Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Values

Values.  I've been thinking a lot about the values in my life.  What do they mean?  What are they exactly?  I guess I haven't really pinned down a core set of values for life since my son was born.  I suppose they have changed quite a bit.  I've always been one to say, if it doesn't cause harm to anyone or anything, it's probably OK.  But now that I think about it, I do have some specific things and thoughts and people that I value more than just "do no harm".

Firstly is the health and safety of my family.  I would do anything to protect my son, I am a big giant slobbering Mama Bear in that respect.  But I also like to let him try new things, step out of my sight sometimes, be with new people, experience new foods and flavors.  I do value those experiences.  So where is the line drawn?  Being around sketchy people is a line, for sure.  Playing in filth, poop, broken glass, etc. is also a line.

It's been hard to align my values with this town.  I feel like many people don't share the same ones with me.  I feel like children here are mostly left to raise themselves, without consequence or manners or morals.

For example, we built a little play area for Asher outside on the porch.  By we I mean Amon.  I watched.  He does beautiful work.  Anyway, this play area has all of Asher's toys, which aren't that many (it's hard- nay impossible- to find quality toys here).  The neighborhood kids see him playing and BAM, here they are, playing with him.  This is OK, except that they don't have the manners I would expect from my own child.  Asking before you enter another person's space, saying please and thank you, respecting the toys, not taking toys away from Asher, not fighting or biting or kicking or spitting on/with each other.  These kids are here now all the time, regardless of whether Asher is out there playing or not.  They help themselves to the toys, and because they don't respect other's property, end up breaking them.  They don't clean up.  We have even come home to find some kids playing in there while we were out.

I don't like it and I know that is SO American of me.  I want to be relaxed and say "whatever" to the whole situation, except, well these are not the values I would like to teach my son.  I want him to have manners, to ask before entering, to say please and thank you, to avoid cursing, biting, kicking, and screaming if he doesn't get his way.  So how can I teach him these things when he is surrounded by the opposite?

My friend once pointed this out to me.  When I was about 12 weeks pregnant and completely naiive about having a baby in the jungle.  She said, "What is going to happen when you ask your kid to go in and wash his hands before eating and all the other kids don't do it?"  I shrugged it off at that point, thinking it'll be no big deal, I'll make him wash his hands, end of story.  I mean, that's just one example and maybe it will be easy to make him clean his hands, but what about all the rest?  How right you were my dear friend.

Alas, it is Christmas eve, a time when we hold our loved ones close, sing happy songs, open presents.  Even though we are here in the jungle where people don't celebrate Christmas, I will do it.  I will play stupid music all day, light the tree in the evening, drink hot cocoa under the stars and tell Asher about Santa Claus.  Because that's also something I value, the wonders of Christmas.
 


Thursday, December 11, 2014

Normalcy vs My Life

So a good friend of mine started a blog, and I love it.  I love her, and you know what they say, copying is the best form of flattery.  Or do they only say that to older siblings when younger ones are relentlessly shadowing them?  Anyhow.  I decided that I wanted to spend more time on this blog.  Maybe someone will read it and find it interesting, this life of mine, here in the jungle.

I've been thinking a lot about my last post.  About how raising a child here is so much different from being in the States.  It's a battle sometimes, I won't lie.  It's excruciating even.  Simple things that most of my friends and family know to be true and sound when it comes to child rearing is simply not so here.

The latest of these is the bottle.  Like, OK, I know it isn't the end of the world if Asher keeps his bottle till he's two.  But I am ready for this stage to be over, and I want to protect his teeth.  You all should see the teeth on some kids here.  Most of them have rotted out front teeth from the bottle, or soda, or soda in the bottle.  It's gotta hurt, right?  I mean, I know when I have a cavity, it's not a joyous thing to eat or drink.  So I really want to avoid that whole thing.  Locals on the other hand, have the opinion that these baby teeth will just fall out anyway, so why worry about them being rotten?  I mean, most adults walk around with betel nut stained teeth that are half missing, so why should it matter that the kids have the same, uh, condition?

Well it matters to me.  And that's all that should matter.  I want to give my kid the best in life and him having a tooth decay problem is not a reflection of me giving him the best.  The battle comes in the form of my husband and the grandmother who watches Asher.  I try to give him a sippy cup and when he won't take it, it's immediately to the bottle.  I know that if I only offer him the sippy he's bound to take it at some point.  Every day, twice a day, I meet this and we fight.  And he usually wins, because, at the end of the day, I am so tired of fighting for everything else, what's another fucking bottle?  Then, we get up, we start again.  And again, and again.  I may one day win.  Or I may just give in.

I recently went back to the states.  Just got back last week actually.  It was blissful.  It was better than I thought it would be.  To have my kid in a car, and me, driving around, to places.  Wow, heaven on earth I tell ya.  We went to the beach, we saw all my family and friends that I love so much and who love me and Asher, we swam, we swung, we slid, we read books at the library, we went out to eat, we ate, ate, ate.  We even saw the Great Wall of China with my cousin and her son.  That moment was so special.  We shopped, a lot.  I got a babysitter (thanks Mom!) and saw a movie, in a movie theater.  It was fabulous, every last second of it.  Except for one huge thing.  My husband was missing.  My other half, my partner, the one who I can fight with every day about a bottle and still go to bed smiling with.  I really love this man and to not have him with me for a month was pretty hard.

So now I am back here, to the monotony.  The job I don't enjoy, the heat, the rice, the poverty, the trash, the noise.  It's like a heavy weight that I carry and I want to get rid of it, but how?  How do I shed the hatred I have of this place?  I want to go back to when it was magical, when I saw people walking down the street with big buckets on their head and I smiled, instead of feeling so jaded about it all.  I guess I can't go back in time.  Those days are over and I've moved on to even greater ones... just how to reconcile the joy with the displeasure?

Amon and I are talking about some day moving back to the States.  Some day is a long ways off though.  I don't know if I've mentioned so much about him, his history, but his family is here.  His only family is his father and he is elderly.  Still strong as a horse mind you, just needs some extra help that only Amon can provide.  I can't ask him to leave his father.  He won't leave his family.  Speaks volumes of the kind of person he is and the kind I am, eh?

So for now, I will sit with this place, these people, enjoy my son, swim in the river, drive a motorbike and eat Thai food.  It's all I can do until I can't anymore.


Saturday, April 12, 2014

Having a baby in Thaianmar (Thailand/Myanmar)

It's been a while.  A very long while.  And I've been meaning to write for all that while.  But I haven't.  Because reading other blogs and facestalking is way more important, or fun, or whatever.

Anywho.  I wanted to share the silly, sometimes disturbing, things that Karen, Burmese and Thai people say to do with my child.  By the way, Asher is now 5 months old, a very strong and healthy little boy.

When he was born the first craziness came about in the form of blankets.  Actually, even to this day I have to fight Amon about the blankets.  Wrap him up, keep him warm, ALL THE TIME.  When he was born he was immediately wrapped in a receiving blanket, and then a nice, plush, heavy blanket.  He was barely removed from these wrappings (except for pees and poos) for the next 3 days.  This actually turned quite scary, and was actually pretty detrimental to Asher's health.  He developed severe jaundice, his bili levels were almost too high.  He wasn't eating well, wasn't quite getting the hang of the whole nursing thing, and was sweating, a lot.  By day 3 of life he had stopped peeing and pooping all together and had to be rushed back to the hospital at 2am where doctors threatened to put a feeding tube in him if he did not start eating and peeing.  Luckily we dodged that bullet, but the fact is that had we not wrapped Asher in a thousand blankets, he would have peed out the bili instead of sweating it out, and we could have potentially avoided jaundice.


Luckily that was the most serious effect of the suggestions and we haven't seen any ill effects since then.

So along with blankets, there was water.  Give the (exclusively breastfed) baby water.  Nope.

When he turned a month old the "shave his head" haranguing began.  To this day it is still an issue with the locals that I chose not to shave my kid's head.  He's a baby.  It's not going to happen.

"Shave his eyebrows, then put butterfly pee and tanaka on them so they grow in thicker".  Um, butterfly pee?  Where exactly do I get that?  How...  Oh nevermind, I'm not going to shave my baby's eyebrows anyway.

I told one mother that my milk was drying up.  She said, I'm pretty sure, "shave the baby's head, then shave your breasts, and the milk will come".  Shave my breasts?  How much hair do YOU have on your boobs lady?

NO DIAPERS IN THE DAY!  It's too hot, don't you know.  So instead you put these little shorts on and then they get pee and poo EVERYWHERE.  We've managed to compromise by using cloth diapers.

Cover his chest, always.  Because if you don't, the air can go in and give him cancer.  Or something.

Make him wear a hat, preferably a knit one, whenever he goes outside.  Yes, even in one million degree heat with one million percent humidity.

"If he is sleeping and jumping in his sleep (startle reflex) put a pillow or something heavy over his chest and he won't jump."  This actually is good advice, as Asher has insane reflexes, however, he jumps so much that the pillow inevitably falls off.  And then he ends up on his tummy, always.

Speaking of tummy, I am so not allowed to do tummy time.  It will make his chest flat.  Why are the poor kid's nipples so far apart?  Because I did tummy time.  Duh.

"Exercise the baby's legs, hold them straight for 5 minutes twice a day so they don't stay curved."  Lord knows we can't all be walking bow-legged forever.

Also, it is perfectly acceptable for a stranger to walk up to me and ask me if I am breastfeeding.  In fact, it's pretty much the first question people ask, even before asking if he's a boy or girl, his name, his age... it's "luk gin nom meh?" Does baby drink mother's milk?  Which, I mean, depending on your standpoint with the whole breastfeeding thing, could be good.  I don't tell people he is fed both breastmilk and formula, because I get "the look" if I do.  I am obviously just too selfish not to exclusively breastfeed my child.

In the "cold" season I can't give the baby a bath anytime after 4pm.  It's too cold and he could die.  Pretty much.

Now that Asher is beginning to eat real food, I have gotten a whole bunch of new advice.

Here is how to feed your baby:  Lay him down on your lap, with your legs straight out, and his head in your groin.  Yeah.  Now feed him like that.  Oh, no, don't worry, he won't choke.

To make rice: Boil the rice until it is watery, put it through a towel, scrape off the goo.  You get about 1/2 a teaspoon every 10 minutes, so it's totally worth it.  No, you cannot use a blender because the metal in the blades could come off in the food and then your baby WILL DIE.

He cannot eat anything but rice.

WHY are you giving your child pumpkin!?  What, are those CUCUMBERS!? Are you seriously trying to POISON your child?

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There are many other things people have "advised" me to do, but for the most part I can agree with some things.  Like co-sleeping.  People are astonished and appalled that Asher has his own bed in his own room.  They see his room and ask, "who sleeps in there?", and when I tell them "that's Asher's room" they are shocked.  I would love to sleep with my baby if a) it weren't so hot b) he actually slept and c) it wasn't so loud in my room.

Another thing I kind of like is the whole going back to your roots, Eastern medicine stuff they use.  Like certain foods I was forbidden to eat after giving birth because they make the body too hot or too cold.  I was only allowed to drink warm water.  I was supposed to stay in bed, covered in tumeric and do nothing for one month.  People looked afraid when I told them I had to go back to work after only 2 months of leave.  "But how will the baby eat?"  "He needs his mother."  And this I agree with wholeheartedly.  Incidentally, I did not go back to work, and am still a stay at home mama.

With all our love from the jungle,

Ani, Amon and Asher