Today was a sad day.

I had coffee with a friend, which was lovely because she is lovely. But they are moving, away from Mae Sot and to other ministries. I am actually quite excited for them and the opportunities ahead. But they were some of our favorites. They loved their neighborhood, too; they inspired us with their language learning. And all three of them are leaving.

And really, there is a relatively small selection of English speakers in Mae Sot. In the grand search for friends, you only have so many that you can communicate well with. And then you have even fewer who are in your age range or the type of person you generally get along with.

That said, we are learning flexibility. We are learning to find friends in unexpected places, different age groups, and in general very different from us. But then when you find someone who is actually quite similar to you and you get along with easily, it’s more hopeful and the friendship comes easier.

But then they move, and it’s sort of a sad day.

And then the kids welcomed us home from church. Everyone played together and sang us songs; they enjoyed some fruit and crackers for a snack. Except Yuh Meh Oo; she sat to the side and didn’t participate. She wouldn’t even sit near me, which is particularly odd; she loves sitting on laps and having an arm around her.

At first I thought she was feeling sick to her stomach, so I asked Chit Ne Oo, who speaks a fair amount of English. Chit Ne Oo asked her and replied to me that no, she didn’t feel sick. She was sad.

The kids then talked among themselves and explained: Yuh Meh Oo mother go. Yuh Meh Oo father drink.

I knew this; it was not new information. She lives with a step-mother or caretaker of some kind; and every encounter I’ve had with her father I find absolutely terrifying.

But to hear the kids say it; to see the sadness on her face.

It was a very sad day.

Some of the kids stayed at our house quite late, and as I looked around I realized it was all the children without parents of their own. They live with caretakers or just on their own; and thus, no one demands them home at a reasonable hour. So four girls and two boys play late into the evening at our house and care for each other.

Eventually we came inside, and I simply wept: because I can’t help Yuh Meh Oo, but I love her; because it seems all the friends I can communicate with always seem to move away. And because I can’t communicate with these friends, to whom I have so much to say and I ache for it in a very real, tangible way. Why doesn’t God answer our prayers for language? I ask this oh-so-often. How will they know that He loves them?  That we are here sharing badminton and playing with dolls and sharing crackers because He loves them?

“Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
Revelation 7:15-17

 

Oven mitts in Thailand are worthless. All of them.

I actually requested new ones from my mom for Christmas, and this is precisely why.

I typically double them up for use. I use a hand mitt without putting my hand in, and doubling it over, thus using four layers of something intended to only use one. And last night, I did this as I grabbed the iron skillet out of the oven, where it was being kept warm while I cooked something else because we only have one burner.

I knew pretty quickly it wasn’t thick enough.

I tried to set the pan back down. But the only place I had to go was back in the oven at an awkward angle with a really heavy iron skillet, and it took me a minute.

A long, burning minute.

During our dinner party for six, I held a variety of frozen vegetables in my palm. I then slept with my hand over the side of the bed in a bowl of ice water, waking up occasionally to wonder why my hand hurt so miserably. I would then roll over and submerge my hand into the ice water again.

Bleh.

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I’m a softie at heart.

The kids have gotten a little out of hand recently; they were getting very demanding. We decided we needed to set some ground rules for a few things, and we have been working hard to do this.

But I am a softie at heart, you see. And its been a very hard week or two of saying no.

Thankfully, they are doing much better, and we are granting privileges back slowly. They are learning their thank yous, which are accepted in any language, and how to be grateful for every yes.

And yesterday, I let two of the little kids into the kitchen for a snack. They ate crackers on the floor while I cooked dinner. It was sweet little Yuh Meh Oo and her little brother, Lay Tah Oo. And they were precious.

They played quietly among themselves. They enjoyed the magnets, calmly without destruction. Yuh Meh Oo even helped with dishes when I put them in the sink–I did have to redo these as she didn’t use soap, but it was the effort that was oh-so-sweet.

They stayed for about an hour, simply laughing together. Lay Tah Oo is about 2 1/2, and he absolutely loved the curtains we have hanging up. He kept getting lost in them and laughing so very hard at popping his head out.

It was lovely.

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A friend showed us this video this week, and I love it!  Flight of the Conchords joined with a number of artists in New Zealand to perform the song Feel Inside (and Stuff Like That).

The start is a little slow, but please, please watch it. Even with incredibly slow internet that took many minutes of loading, I thought it was worth it to watch two days in a row. The kids are hilarious, and the song at the end is absolutely brilliant.

And if you buy the song on iTunes, the proceeds go to charity to help sick kids stop the spews!

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I wish Stephen had an iPhone in moments like this:

When we see three elephants while in town today. A cute little baby one, too!

When we are driving down the highway and see a truck bed full of cow carcasses; a whole assortment of bloody bones bouncing around.

When we are biking and a motorbike passes us, and the driver has a monkey on his head.

Things are always changing.

In the past couple weeks, Stephen and I have both had some expansions in our roles with Partners. Thankfully, these are all really exciting expansions, where we can see God working and can confidently say we are where we are supposed to be.

For Stephen, he has been balancing his work with IT in our Mae Sot office with media projects for Partners worldwide. In the past few weeks, he has been asked to expand his work with media: he will now be balancing photography with marketing videos and some sound projects. His recent video experiment made the rounds in our offices last week, and it was quite popular! Everyone was very complimentary, and hopefully it will be hitting Partners’ website within a few weeks. His photography was also featured in Partners most recent magazine and will be in the 2013 calendar.

Not only does his work with media continue to utilize his interest areas, his skills are being expanded as well. Partners has encouraged him and is equipping him to seek additional training and utilize new equipment.

For me, my Social Development department has officially expanded beyond one member!  Social Development now includes two local staff members. A Shan woman, Pi Pranee, oversees Community Development projects in local migrant communities. I’ll be advising her in community development projects as needed, as well as helping her incorporate her previous sewing projects with Partners into community trainings.

A Thai-Karen staff member, Yim, has just transferred this month from Childcare Projects to Social Development. She graduated with her Masters in Political Science this year, and she will be coordinating with me to help teach Social Development trainings. We will continue using the Political Development curriculum I created earlier this year, and we will be working together to create a curriculum for Economic Development to put into use mid-2013.  Yim is incredibly clever, and I think we will really enjoy working together.

My responsibilities have significantly expanded, but it is exciting to see how God keeps opening doors and equipping me in my inadequacies.

Stephen and I are also really thankful for the ways our jobs coincide. My trainings require me to travel quite a bit, but he will need to travel as well to get photos and video footage.  Thankfully, it looks like we’ll be able to travel to the same places, sometimes for two to three weeks at a time, and each enjoy what we do. This is an incredible blessing.

We expect that things will always continue to change. However, we are really thankful for this moment and these opportunities to expand our skills and work in Mae Sot.

Due to the floods of rainy season, there is currently a rice crisis throughout Karen State.

In a particular division of Karen State, this crisis is emphasized by rat over-population. Every forty-eight years the bamboo trees blossom and regenerate, providing excess food for the rats. Studies show that the seeds increase the fertility of the rats and increase litter size. Before long, the rat population is overbearing, and they have run out of the blossom seeds. They begin to eat through fields and homes, causing starvation in the area.

This phenomenon is called mautam, and usually happens in eastern India and the western parts of Burma. However, it has spread farther east this year, into Karen regions that have never experienced this before. And they are slowly starving.

Meanwhile, Burma continues to be the highest producer of amphetamines and second (to Afghanistan) for opium. Many of our Shan State projects are facing entire communities addicted to drugs–entire families, entire populations; boys as young as ten addicted to using amphetamines regularly.

The Burmese military, while signing ceasefires with different ethnic groups, has continued to confiscate land.  Thousands of families have lost their land without compensation; often for international companies who are destroying natural resources and abusing power.  This has promoted the sex trade, pushing parents to sell their young girls into slavery and prostitution.

Many of these girls end up coming through our little border town of Mae Sot, and sent to cities around the world. Around the whole world, where there is a disturbing demand for humans to be sold at a price.

Meanwhile, our neighbors across the street are in front of us, and we are praying. When do we take them to the hospital? When do we give them food? And when is it not sustainable?

And more importantly, how do we show them Jesus?

I am trying to learn Karen for our work with Partners, while I have children on my doorstep speaking to me in Burmese and mothers across the street that I ache to connect with. And even on the best days of good conversation–the days I feel I might be getting somewhere and someday I might be able to communicate in this language–I know that it will be years more before I know Karen. And then I listen to Burmese chatter outside my window and ache to be able to share with them and to know them.

And somedays, I’m tempted to lose hope. I’m tempted to say that this is too much to carry.

But if I lose hope, I deny Christ.

I deny that he has been faithful; that He is strong, and He is loving. I deny that he has fulfilled hopes in all of history.

And this is all true.

To the benefit and necessity of my job, I love reading. Currently I am reading these things: Guns, Germs, & Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond; Elements of Democracy: The Fundamental Principles, Concepts, Social Foundations, and Processes of Democracy by the Center for Civic Education; and the Constitutions of Burma, Thailand, Spain, Indonesia, and the United States.

And here is what I love: the faithfulness of Christ and the promotion of the Kingdom is written all of over history, politics, and humanity. I can read a host of political books and see eternity in each one of them. Because God is here, he is faithful, and his Kingdom is coming; and this cannot be denied.

Throughout Guns, Germs, & Steel, Diamond is analyzing human history and why certain societies developed over others. He analyzes this from a million different angles and asks questions upon questions. Concluding isn’t his specialty, so I think we would be friends. I love his discourse on the Fertile Crescent. The Fertile Crescent advanced more than any other society; the figures, statistics, and history is truly astounding to read. He asks so many questions, and discusses so many theories of why the Fertile Crescent area and people groups were successful.

For me, it all points astoundingly to one answer: the Fertile Crescent was abundant because Christ was there. His people were there, they were chosen, and he walked with them. And they found themselves abundantly blessed.

The Elements of Democracy book credits Martin Luther for the democratic idea of questioning authority and human error. Each and every Constitution I read points me wholeheartedly to the fall, and the groan in each of us for Christ’s return.

Because Christ is in each of these things–history, politics, humanity–whether we admit to it or not.

And if I begin to lose hope, I deny this presence.

There is a temptation to turn away from horrific things. If we don’t see them everyday, if we can put them out of our minds, we aren’t required to address them or to change our ways.

I am tempted to do this quite often, in different forms.  Sometimes it is a temptation to move back to America; sometimes to close my front door and listen to mindless music while I knead bread. Sometimes I just want to go to sleep at 7 o’clock and pretend I don’t have to wake up to the same problems tomorrow. Sometimes I want to watch a television show that makes me laugh and implies that all problems can be solved within 22 minutes.

Note that none of these are bad: America is not bad, nor bread, music, sleep, or television shows. But when used as numbing agents, they deny truth. They deny the fact that these same problems may exist tomorrow, but God is in them today as he will be tomorrow.

And if I succumb to lost hope, I reject the truth I know in my own life, in every account of history, and in every situation of suffering around the world.

With my interest in political science and current career of teaching political and social development, you might assume this would be a very opinionated post on upcoming elections in the States, or perhaps the upcoming elections here in Thailand.

It won’t be about either.

Instead, the conversation during our bike ride today was this: are the advertisements in Thailand or America more annoying?

In America, the primary advertisements are on television during commercial breaks. You might receive a few phone calls and fliers in the mail. Please note that you have the choice to turn off the television or mute the volume; you can hang up the phone or throw away the flier. It’s a quick exit.

In Thailand, the primary advertisements are trucks, driving around town with blared speakers discussing their candidate or party. Please note that these are usually blown speakers, so it sounds a bit like someone yelling at you with their hand over their mouth. In order to ensure that you are blessed with the entire message, these trucks drive slowly through the center of town and even park in a neighborhood, blaring the speakers so that the whole neighborhood can hear the whole speech at once.

I will note here that this is not only acceptable for elections, but for all stores often use this for promotions as well.

I actually prefer to be driving when I see these trucks, at which point I can zoom right on by. It is more unpleasant when they are actually in the neighborhood and I am required to hear them out and listen to the kids attempt to repeat the Thai. This is very much like having thirty speakers right outside your window.

But today, it got worse. Today we were on our bike ride out of town when we heard a truck. But on a bicycle, you can’t exactly speed away. In fact, his slow pace is very nearly the pace we were managing on the bicycle, thus requiring us to listen to the same advertisement repeatedly for about six kilometers. At this point he stopped in a neighborhood, where we could thankfully pass him; only to have him pass us again–slowly–about twenty minutes later.

It was during one of the moments we were traveling at the same pace that I yelled to Stephen, “Is it just because he has been right behind us for awhile or is this way more annoying than any number of commercials?”

I took a risk tonight: I had Stephen cut my hair.

Yikes!

Why would I have my tech-smart, common-sense based husband cut my hair?

Well, I have heard horror stories of people getting lice or bangs on a regular basis in this area; I am fearful of both. It also seems risky to have someone who cuts straight, black hair 99.9% of the time attempt to cut curly, brown hair.

I decided it would be safer to have someone cut my hair who speaks my language, is familiar with curls, and is very aware that I did not want bangs.

But I did get a little nervous when he held the scissors in his hand and asked, “So, you said you want it sporadic, right?”

No, I had said I wanted layers, not sporadic anything. When I said I wanted layers, but evenly distributed, it took some time to explain how these can coexist.

But I think it just might have worked!

We were at least successful with the no bangs and no lice. We’ll go from there tomorrow.

We woke up early on Sunday to fit in our long bicycle ride and climb before heading to church. We were out the door by 8 o’clock, and then were greeted with sickness. Two little kiddos: a two-year-old and four-month-old with fevers and vomiting.

So we headed to a local clinic with hopes it might go faster than the hospital. We had taken a little girl with a badly infected finger there just a week ago, and the clinic went so much faster; it was like a breath of fresh air. We decided for future, non-emergency situations, this was the ticket.

We signed in the babies’ names and ages, and then sat down amidst a large crowd to wait our turn.

And then we looked up to see a sign posted to the wall,

Sorry
CAUCASION
WHITE AMERICAN PEOPLE

Not Welcomes

(Grammar & spelling errors intended for accuracy of reporting.)

Yikes. That would be us.

We weren’t sure what to do: should we leave? We’re not being treated, really; but are we even allowed to be present? And we had already signed them in, so how do we explain we’re going somewhere else to start the process over?

We waited. We sustained a significant number of glares.

And for a short while, we were on that side: experiencing the scowls and the hatred; the judgment for skin rather than character, attitude, or anything deeper, for that matter.

I’m not sure I even know how to describe it or respond; it was a miserable couple hours–in my soul, sitting next to written word that I, specifically, was not welcomed. I suppose I just want to document it here; perhaps that feeling shouldn’t be forgotten–or extended.

So I’ve recently begun playing Words with Friends.

It was the hubs’ idea. He’s the technology guru, and he kept telling me I’d love it if I played with friends & family in the States. I was hesitant: I don’t like technology as much and use it more than I’d like already. Did I really need another attachment to something that blinks and alerts me?

But I listened, and started playing with my sister, brother-in-law, and mom over huge oceans. And it is such fun!

I don’t think it is because of the game.  But I love that it’s another connection point.  While I’ll admit that Skype is a wonderful asset to our living here, Words with Friends pretends we are in the same place.  It allows us to do something together, which we don’t really have the privilege of here.

It’s like having a cup of coffee with friends.

And then winning, which makes it all the better!