Walking on . . . Graduation caps?!

Kindergarten graduated yesterday. . . Is it weird that I was more excited than they were? Of course, they had to go to school today which is something of a buzz kill, but I am so happy because of it.

Didn't have to go anywhere in the morning, and I canceled my classes in the afternoon (which turned out to be a really smart thing to do). Straightened my hair for the first time by myself (hey, I was bored), and I have to admit: even though I looked freakishly like my sister, I felt hot. Which is awesome, because if there's one thing volunteering does is bleach you of your sexy. Heels and straight hair, all the way baby.

Went around 11:30, and we got all the kids dressed in their little caps and gowns. Out of the 267 kids at our school, we had 77 graduates yesterday, and I was proud of every single one of them.

Parents brought huge bouquets of flowers and stuffed animals (how they fit in a bouquet is simply amazing), and there were about a thousand pictures taken. It this case, heels were not a smart thing; made me even taller than them and made leaning down incredibly dangerous. I always find it interesting how people I have absolutely no relation to want my picture sometimes. I took pictures with cute but random babies and total strangers, as well as really cute soon-to-be graduates.

Lined them all up, socked feet neat and tassels securely hung for the walk into the meeting room for the ceremony. Now, I generally when you have 150 kids in a room for over three hours in very cramped quarters they're likely to get ansty. Not these ones; they were all incredibly patient and quiet. We had some who were on the road to Dreamland, all of which simply increased my pride. Its absolutely hilarious how almost none of them smiled, and those who did fought for a while before just beaming.

*This picture was taken after the whole thing was over and they were waiting to take their own pictures; smile barrier broken.*

Father Joe gave a speech after handing out all the diplomas with the general message of 'stay in school!' It was totally awesome though because I understood most of what he was saying, like this gem:

Even if you're hungry and people are doubting you, always learn. . .
When we stop learning, what's to keep us going?

My opinion on the matter?

I love my kids!

Nats

Net Mouse

So, when I was little my Dad stayed in a house full or computers, of varying degrees of completion and usefulness. After we moved and he got remarried, he bought up a dying computer store. The place loses money like crazy and they're constantly renovating the place with his new Zen/Buddhist style, but it means the computers have another place to live, instead of functioning as a perfect table when eating illegal, sugary cereal. Back in those days I called myself a Net Mouse.

Dad was a Net Rat. Perceptive little kid I was back then.

A few years ago I spent the summer living with them and working in the store assembling machines and installing XP on machines whose owners had realized Vista sucks.

I thought those days were over; Mum never ceases to remind me that I've never been particularly technical, my computer sucks, and I don't fix things either.

Haha! Today was different! I gave the Kindergartners computers! I gave life! (metaphorically, of course)

10 second hand desktops, that just need a couple extension cords to be fully operational. Take that nay-sayers!

My hands were ridiculously dirty and they were feeding me half ripe green mango, but my dignity did not suffer. I'm a god today.

Plus, while waiting for the rest of the world to wake up this morning, I watch the Keira Knightly "Pride and Prejedice."

W arm and Fuzzy today, my friend. So warm and fuzzy that I leave you with this from the 1978 Farmer's Almanac :

To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.

That's so true too.

Nats

An Introduction to Thursdays

Thursdays . . . I've always liked Thursdays. Somehow they're always good days. At school there was always Assembly or ELSR Day or Volleyball or some sort of event, which meant that the beautiful afternoon was almost never spent in academic pursuits.

Here, Thursdays are Home Visit Days, on which yours truly joins a Community Health and Development Centre (CHDC) team on one of their daily visits to one of our contacts with HIV/AIDS who are well enough to live outside the hospice on their own or with family. Normally that team consists on NK and Y, two wonderful ladies with varying levels of English. NK herself has AIDS, two boys, and some non-malignant form of Cervical Cancer. She doesn't skimp on the details and certainly doesn't hold back.

Anyways, this Thursday I went with NK, Y, and T (NK's old partner in visit) to visit three people. One was relatively close to Mercy, and lived by herself in the back room of a restaurant, for some reason cluttered with hairdressing equipment. She picked up work at the restaurant, but kept forgetting to take her pills and thinking about worrying about her boyfriend. It never ceases to amaze me how many older Thais have relationships; in the West, after about the age of 40 having a boyfriend is rare, but this woman was at least that.We talked to her for about half an hour, checked her temperature, and set an alarm to remind her about her meds. We also left her a care package of Thai essentials, instant noodles and Baby powder! With a few other things tossed in too.

Next stop was was visit a Lady Boy at work in China Town. He worked at a cosmetic wholesaler (Y bought 800 baht worth of diet pills from him), and there was a big difference in the visit. No paperwork, no checking meds, just a casual conversation between friends. It lasted no more than 10 minutes; I felt so bad being the only Farang in sight, I drew attention to the conversation. I amused myself playing with a dog on the street in a feeble attempt to seem unconnected.

Chinatown is . . . pretty much a huge string of markets that makes for a shopper's paradise. Its full of wholesalers, who sell huge quantities to people for resale (I've twice seen similar bags, at lest fifty of them, being taken by three little ladies on Tunisian Air; I see the connection now!). At this point it kind of changed from a work trip to a shopping venture, not that that's a bad thing!

When we finally emerged from the tangle, we took a Tuk Tuk past the Grand Palace (yes, I took the flak for still not having been) to Tamasat University for Lunch. Ferry across the river to Siraj Hospital, temporary home of the Thai King during his series of illnesses that have kept him hidden away for most of my time here. Bussed past NK's home to a gas station where our third lady was working at the car wash. She had strange colouring on her hands, and was complaining of shaky legs. Our conversation was maybe 5 minutes because she was surrounded by co-workers, but it was a relatively jovial meeting.

Bussed back, just in time for my five o'clock class with the international girls.

Now, this is rather unusual, but I also went with them on Friday this week. Two women were healthy enough to leave the hospice, but because neither had any family or support network we took them to another foundation called WE-TRAIN, where they would learn a trade and live until they could get a job and home of their own. We also took a woman to a distant hospital so she could pick up her daughter's medication. This is where Mercy is useful; she didn't even think of asking the doctor to sign the papers so she could get the meds at the same hospital they get their IVs, and much closer.

The stint at the hospital took almost 4 hours, so I wandered down to the first floor and ended up making and teaching others how to make paper air-fresheners that look like little polo shirts. It was fun, and I might have to teach some more people here for resale. It was fun though; I doubt they get many Farangs out there, so everyone came over to practice their English. . . The White Girl's Burden I guess.

We made it home, through heavy traffic, at 7 o'clock. The result? One very tired volunteer who fell asleep waiting to go to the bathroom. Barely made it up for the Fast this morning, but it was totally worth it.

Quote tine! The CHDC is by far the most organized department. What did NK and Y's records show for the month of March?

Only one person died this month.

Fasting Day One

So, in case you haven't got this yet (though I probably can't blame you if you didn't), I'm a Baha'i. No, that does not mean I'm a cult member and likely to eat your children during a sacrifice to a satanic statue; its a genuine religion, and I'm proud to be a member.

If you want to know more about it, ask. Otherwise, I'll simply leave you with this quote by Abdu'l-Baha, which I use as guidance whenever I can:

"To be a Baha'i simply means to love all the world, to love humanity and try to serve it, to work for universal peace and universal brotherhood."

Anyways, part of being a Baha'i is Fasting. It is, I suppose, our equivalent of Lent or Ramadan. Starting at the age of 15, for 19 days (one Baha'i month) we don't eat or drink from sun rise to sunset.

It started today, and I, being a total idiot, didn't wake up before 6:30 like I was supposed to in order to eat. So now it's 12 o'clock, 33 degrees, and I haven't eaten or drunk anything today. Note to self, tomorrow WAKE UP!

Nats

News Flash

Sorry its been so long for the no one reading this; the internet's been really crazy and most of my communication with people has been over the phone. . . with my mum.

Not entirely true; A called on Thursday and we talked for two hours. She did another silly thing that I had to mock her for, but considering the summer plans currently incubating in my mother's brain, I may get to see her as early as May!

Anyways, a short catch up of the past week:

JW hasn't e-mailed all week.

Wrote my first resume ever for a job I can't even remember the specifics of that, in all likelihood, I won't get.

I've been to a total of three Baha'i functions in the last few days (with another one tonight). Sure, its the holiday season, but does it have to be so busy? It's certainly not helping with the loneliness I feel seeing as I've had maybe 4 personal e-mails in past week.

Its a Buddhist holiday today, so I stayed at home all day chilling and feeling sorry for myself.

I've realized my life sucks.

Canada is really good at the winter Olympics.

Tomorrow is the start of my new fast induced diet, which also includes staying away from 7 Eleven for three weeks. Needless to say I've stocked up.

And there's this Bahai guy that I cannot help but look forward to seeing. A result of item one? Unknown, but I'm really feeling screwed. Have to see him tonight too.

So yeah, that's my hellish life :)

Nats

Rejection

Rejection comes in many shapes and forms. Sometimes its the ignoring of a phone call, or the casual 'no' of a friend. Sometimes its the awkward wave goodbye, and sometimes it comes in a small envelope. Today, my rejection came in the form of a single word on my UCAS Track account: 'Unsuccessful.' Yeah, I know it was a long shot, but it was still a dream.

But you what's worst about that rejection? The word 'unsuccessful'. It makes it seem like it was my fault, that I'm not good enough. Sure, it's probably true, but they don't need to call me unsuccessful so soon. I have potential, right. . . right?

I've been rejected before, but somehow this hurts more that not dancing with the Dane at the Freshman dance. And I've rejected people too, but I don't know how the boy felt when I ran away from him (up a mountain) when he told me he loved me in Junior year. Ok, that's a bit of a lie; he apparently got crying drunk that night, and didn't talk to me the whole of Senior year. It's pretty obviously that he hated me. It's entirely possible that he still hates me.


ANYWAYS! We deal with rejection in our own unique ways. Ok, mine isn't that unique, involving copious amounts of chocolate and a call to my Mom, but give me a break . Chocolate is gold, people. Thank God for wonderful boyfriends who send Valentine's Day presents late and chock full of sugar. And through the chocolate haze, we find peace, and new people and institutions to reject us.

Which brings me to the quote of the day, by Earl G. Graves:

We keep going back, stronger, not weaker, because we will not allow rejection to beat us down. It will only strengthen our resolve. To be successful there is no other way.

So I try to keep the chocolate consumption to a minimum, and come to terms with the fact that it's not going to happen right now. It's not going to happen right now, but it's not the end of the world.

It's not the end of the world.

Nats


P.S. Chocolate courtesy of JW's room, via Korea mail. God I love them!

Goodbyes

J and I took T to the airport today. God, it just makes you realize how screwed up this world is. Her Dad is rich, her grandparents are rich, she's definitely an international kid, but today I say goodbye to her as she went off to foster care in the States. Now, I know there's a good chance that its temporary, but its so sad. It makes me think of how quickly its possible for us all to fall; what may seem like miles is only a minute one. That goes for lots of things though, not just falling. Even when we're far apart, we're close in heart and spirit, and technology (when it works) keeps us together. So, I've decided in this case to use the following quote by Ivy Baker Priest:

The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning.

And in all honesty, it is. I say goodbye to T, and I have to find friends elsewhere. She moves to live in a country she's only visited, and its an adventure, a foray into a new and strange land. That it will be difficult and awkward, I have no doubt whatsoever, but we'll keep in touch and stay as positive as possible.

If that fails, we'll always guilt her family into fixing this.

Nats