Title: Sangkhlaburi.
Date: 08/07/2011
I arrived in S'buri last night after a 7 hour bus ride from Bangkok. I was instructed to get a motor bike taxi to the Baan Unrak bakery, which I did, and they were supposed to call the Didi and tell her I was there. But they couldn't get a hold of Didi so they put me up in a little tiny room with concrete walls, duct tape over the cracks, plastic on the floor, and a twin bed with a mat about an inch thick, two blankets and nothing else. I nearly ran back to Colorado at that point. There was no internet and my phone still won't work. On top of it all I have a total of 20 mosquito bites that are driving me insane and I am praying I don't have malaria or dengue fever (I don't, I'm just over dramatizing). So I took a benedryl and resolved to call it a night at 8:30. Just then I hear a knocking at my door and there is Didi with 5 children, all there to collect me. She said they had a room all set up at the orphanage for me, and so I hopped in the truck and we drove up to the childrens home were I was presented with a much bigger, and slightly nicer room, with a private bathroom and balcony. The kids helped me set up my mosquito net and fan, and I felt much better.
Now it is 24 hours later and I think I am feeling numb. I am in shock that I am here and that I am living in these conditions, although, to be honest, I expected worse. They feed me well, the kids are slowly getting used to my presence, and they even gave me today off to assimilate even though there are several sick children and only one doctor that could use my help. I walked 30 minutes to the town and bought a blanket, a pillow, 2 towels, 2 washcloths, a rice mat for my concrete floor, some writing paper, incense, a plate, bowl and cup, and toilet paper all for 600 baht, or $9. Now my little room feels more like home, although at some point I will have to do something about the bathroom. It smells of raw sewage and is stained with god knows what on the walls. This room used to be one of the kids' rooms, so there are kids dirty hand prints everywhere. The bathroom door is half eaten away by termites and the empty bunkbed next to my bed is crawling with them as well. There is no shower, I get to take sponge baths for the next six months, which kind of blows because I feel so dirty... all.the.time. Dirty from sweat, dirty from bug spray, dirty from dirt. The door to my balcony doesn't close so there are bugs as well as geckos in here. I feel surprisingly safe in my mosquito net though.
But, all in all, it could be worse and I am actually pretty OK with it all right now. It's like camping, only a bit better. And I get to fall asleep to the sounds of crickets and laughing children.
I met another volunteer today who is 23 and from Nepal. He is very smart and I am very impressed with him doing this at such a young age. He committed to one full year at Baan Unrak. He is in charge of the boys, well some of them. He watches them and plays with them from dawn till dusk, 7 days a week. We ate breakfast and dinner together and talked about American politics, different languages, currency rates, and what the kids do on a daily basis. So far he is my lifeline for information as both of the Didi's are swamped with sick kids, not sick kids, sponsors, trying to get sponsors, house mothers, trying to get house mothers and always worrying about the budget. I'm pretty good at holding my own, so hopefully I can continue to do so. I have a feeling that the reason they put me up at the orphanage instead of the volunteer house is because this is going to be a 24/7 job. If emergencies arise at night I might be the one that gets called. As it is already the children burst into my room every five minutes. There is one in particular who won't leave me alone. The problem is, is that I am not entrirely sure if she is a he or a she. He/she has a shaved head from the lice, is about 9 years old, and doesn't speak but two words of English: "Picture?" and "Eat". I am pretty sure she is a girl, so we'll go with that for now. I am also pretty sure she lived a very tough life before this one. Not only does she not speak English, but she doesn't speak any other language either. She has this little whine that comes out when she wants you to do something and uses hand gestures often. When we were taking pictures using photobooth she didn't smile in any of them. I wonder if she was taught to look sad in photos so people would take pity on her? I want to know her story, but I don't even know her name, or her real gender for that matter. This is going to be hard, this language thing.
The kids all range from tiny babies to about 16 or 17 years old. Most of them are elementary school age. It is really interesting how they are taking me being here. One of the first questions out of their mouths, if they speak English, is: "how long will you be here?' So many volunteers come and go; there is a group called ISV that ships new volunteers out every two weeks. This place definitely needs the help, but I can tell it has an effect on the children.
There really is so much more to say, like how the town looks, and how beautiful the lake is. Or about the long, hand built wooden bridge to the Mon side of the town. But I am tired, and I have to be up at 6am to meditate and then be at work by 7am. So off to bed I go.
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