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.
 

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.