In telling the girls the story of the first Thanksgiving, I try to stress the difficulties the pilgrims had overcome. The previous year or so had been very difficult. They had come to a new world so that they could worship God in their own way. They must have been trusting Him to take care of them, but they still suffered so much hardship. Yet after all this, they were thankful for friendship, family, food, and shelter. This year has been one of the most difficult for me; harder in some ways even than my first year of residency with a two year old, a newborn, and a husband in graduate school. Even so, I have much for which to be thankful.
I am thankful for the struggles this past year, for in them, God has shown Himself to me. I am a different person than I was a year ago when I boarded the plane to come to Bangkok. I am more humble, realizing that I can do less on my own than I thought I could. I am more dependent on God, my husband, and on my friends around the world. I have a deeper faith, realizing that God's plans are so much greater than my own. God has used my tears of this past year to bring me further than He could have taken me otherwise. He is shaping me into the woman of God He wants me to be. This past year has been a time of waiting and testing. In God's timing, I will be a better physician, a better pilot, a better "missionary" because of what God has led me through.
I am thankful for shelter. I recently wrote about how God provided this home for my family. As I walk to the vegetable market every week, I see shacks built up along the canal. Most children I know here do not have a yard of any sort; they spend their days inside or on a small balcony. Philip just mentioned the other day that they hotel room we lived in for nearly a month was about the same size as our dining area alone. No matter my mood, I do remember to daily thank God for our home. The months spent without one have created a more grateful spirit in me.
I am thankful for food. In another post, I wrote about some of the difficulties I have in providing meals for my family. Big and small groceries are often out of staples items for weeks, I have no oven and just a two burner stove, and dairy products are two to three times more expensive than in the States. But we always have three meals a day, plus snacks. We are able to afford "cheese meals" once or twice a week. We even get store bought pizza one night a week, for a treat and to give mommy a break. Most lunches, we are able to get chicken and rice or noodle soup from a food stand costing a little less than a dollar a piece, giving me more time for schooling in the mornings. I have been able to figure out a variety of meals that are inexpensive and everyone enjoys. We get to eat plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. We are all more appreciative of special treats like apples, butter, and cheese.
I am thankful for family. There is nothing quite like being on the other side of the world to make one appreciate family. When I moved to Israel right after getting married, I was excited to be in a new country with my husband. It wasn't until I was pregnant with Eris that I really wanted to be closer to my family. These days, I often wish I could just run over to my parents house to have a chat with my mom, to let my kids play on my old playset, to borrow an ingredient, or to relax. I wish my children could spend a weekend at my in-laws, fishing with Granddad, playing games with Grandmom, and laughing together. I wish I could go on a family camping trip with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece. I wish my grandparents could meet Simeon. But I am also very thankful to even have so many loving family members. And I am extremely grateful for Skype. My children can talk face to face with their grandparents. We were able to say hello to everyone at my family's early Thanksgiving dinner. I was able to hear my Grandpa's voice and to tell him that I love him. My parents and in-laws can watch my children grow. They can see Simeon walk around, they can watch Hollis jump around and hear her silly stories. They can appreciate just how tall and grown up Eris has gotten and see Meriel's sweet face as she laughs. Meriel and her cousin Tayla can Skype eachother when it's still Meriel's birthday in Oregon and already Tayla's birthday in Thailand. And the times we do get to spend physically together are almost too precious to describe. We are all eagerly anticipating mid-January and a visit from Grandma and Grandpa!
I am thankful for friendship. While God has not brought friends into my life here in Bangkok as I had hoped, He has deepened my friendship with those on the other side of the world. I can only imagine the isolation and loneliness of those who lived overseas before technology allowed us to interact across vast distances. While I generally do not profess a love for computers, I am grateful for these advances. Encouraged by many friends, I opened a Facebook page. It has been fun to see pictures of my friends' children as they grow and babies I have never had a chance to hold. I get to hear news from Terre Haute, Oregon, Bolivia, New Orleans, and other places just by looking at my computer. I have read through the Bible with a friend in Bolivia and one in Tulsa. I try to Skype regularly with my dear friends who are the closest to sisters I'll ever have. While our experiences are very different, Heather, serving as a missionary in Bolivia, and I can relate to one another in a way we would not have been able to if I were still living in Indiana. Hannah in Long Island has become dearer to me as well. Thank you to everyone who writes a comment on a Facebook post or smiles as you read a comment I write. Thank you for including us in your lives by praying, thinking about us, Skyping, or sending an e-mail. Thank you for allowing me to share by reading my blog. I daily thank God for your friendship.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Morning Rush
Mothering, like many other professions, seems to have whirlwinds of activity interspersed with lulls of relative calm. I have heard many mothers mention the 5 o'clock hour with displeasure. Dinner needs to be made, the kids are getting tired and hungry, toys are strewn all over the house, and Daddy is coming home from work all at about the same time. While I don't have to get anybody off to school or work at a certain time, it seems that the first hour or so of a morning is full of activities that all need to be performed at roughly the same time.
In our house, we don't have one child who is always the early riser. Any child could be the first awake, but the most frequent one is Meriel. She nearly always wakes up very hungry, but she can play quietly for awhile. Once I hear her awake, I usually try to get Simeon comfortably asleep without me. Oftentimes this doesn't work, so then he is awake too. It's usually a matter of minutes until Hollis hears Simeon and Meriel playing and wants to join them. Eris is my late sleeper, unless she is wanting to read a book. Just this morning, she got up early to finish a book so she could take it back to the library and check out a new one.
So generally the three youngest wake up within minutes of one another. Here's a sample schedule of events.
7:15 Meriel wakes up. I hear her up and come out of the bedroom. She sits on the couch with her
blanket. I go to the bathroom.
7:17 Simeon wakes up. He's fussy and wants to snuggle and nurse a minute. Meriel says she's hungry.
7:18 Hollis wakes up and needs to go to the bathroom. I set Simeon down to hurriedly get her diaper
off. I change Simeon's diaper while I'm at it.
7:27 I start getting breakfast ready: boiling eggs or cooking oatmeal or toasting bread. While I wait, I
try to quickly brush and braid my hair. It's too hot and humid to leave my hair down and the
longer I leave it loose, the more time it takes to get the tangles out. In the meantime, Hollis
needs help getting her panties on the right way, Simeon needs to be stopped from banging on the
bedroom door, Meriel needs help finding a book, Simeon needs to be stopped from banging on a
glass cupboard with a block... You get the picture.
7:37 Breakfast is ready. I get everyone settled with a cup of milk and bowls or plates. I give Meriel
the charge of giving Simeon pieces of food on his tray. I run upstairs to hang up laundry. If I
don't get it up first thing in the morning, it often rains before it has a chance to dry. It's not so
bad now, since dry season just started but it's still better to get it up early.
7:58 I come downstairs to a very messy table. Sometimes I have everyone come up and hang laundry
with me to try to lessen this inevitability, but some days everyone is just too hungry to wait. I
serve up seconds, help Simeon get a drink of milk, and clean up some messes before they spread
too much.
8:11 I grab something to eat. I usually take bites between helping Simeon eat and drink, taking dishes
to the outdoor kitchen, helping Hollis and Simeon wash up, and doing whatever else needs to be
done for the morning.
8:17 Eris wakes up and starts reading. I ask her if she wants to eat, and she says, "Not now." I tell her
that she needs to eat soon because I'm starting to clean up. No response.
8:22 Just as I'm about to wipe off the table, Eris decides she wants breakfast. I pour her some milk
and get her a dish. I wipe off the table around her and sweep the floor.
8:25 Eris is finished, so I wipe up her spot. If she forgets to take her dishes to the sink, I have to
decide whether to do it myself or call her back to do it.
8:31 It's about time to start school. But before that, Hollis comes in wanting a drink. I haven't washed
the cups from breakfast yet, so I do that and then get her a drink.
8:36 Now Simeon wants a drink, I hunt around for his sippy cup. When I can't find it, I end up
helping him drink from a regular cup.
8:42 I'm about to call the girls in to start school when I notice that Simeon doesn't smell so nice. I
change his diaper.
8:47 About this time, I notice that it's starting to get dark. I run upstairs to grab the laundry as big
drops start coming down. I find places to hang the damp clothes to finish drying, while Simeon
does his best to take everything down as fast as I can put it up.
9:12 I start singing our beginning of school song and the kids come running. I sit down, and Simeon
sits in my lap; he's soaking wet. It could be from grabbing a full cup off the counter or from a
very wet diaper. Either way, he needs to be changed.
9:30 It doesn't seem to matter how early we are up, we never manage to start school before 9:30.
There are many variations of this schedule. Events happen in different orders or at different times. But it's always a rush of activity from the moment of waking. One day all my children will be potty-trained, one day they will be making breakfast for me, maybe even one day I will have a dryer, or maybe we'll have to all be up and out of the house at a certain time. So this is written as a memorandum, so I will always remember these days, and as a tribute to all mothers across all time who have very busy mornings. May we always prevail and make it to the early afternoon lull.
In our house, we don't have one child who is always the early riser. Any child could be the first awake, but the most frequent one is Meriel. She nearly always wakes up very hungry, but she can play quietly for awhile. Once I hear her awake, I usually try to get Simeon comfortably asleep without me. Oftentimes this doesn't work, so then he is awake too. It's usually a matter of minutes until Hollis hears Simeon and Meriel playing and wants to join them. Eris is my late sleeper, unless she is wanting to read a book. Just this morning, she got up early to finish a book so she could take it back to the library and check out a new one.
So generally the three youngest wake up within minutes of one another. Here's a sample schedule of events.
7:15 Meriel wakes up. I hear her up and come out of the bedroom. She sits on the couch with her
blanket. I go to the bathroom.
7:17 Simeon wakes up. He's fussy and wants to snuggle and nurse a minute. Meriel says she's hungry.
7:18 Hollis wakes up and needs to go to the bathroom. I set Simeon down to hurriedly get her diaper
off. I change Simeon's diaper while I'm at it.
7:27 I start getting breakfast ready: boiling eggs or cooking oatmeal or toasting bread. While I wait, I
try to quickly brush and braid my hair. It's too hot and humid to leave my hair down and the
longer I leave it loose, the more time it takes to get the tangles out. In the meantime, Hollis
needs help getting her panties on the right way, Simeon needs to be stopped from banging on the
bedroom door, Meriel needs help finding a book, Simeon needs to be stopped from banging on a
glass cupboard with a block... You get the picture.
7:37 Breakfast is ready. I get everyone settled with a cup of milk and bowls or plates. I give Meriel
the charge of giving Simeon pieces of food on his tray. I run upstairs to hang up laundry. If I
don't get it up first thing in the morning, it often rains before it has a chance to dry. It's not so
bad now, since dry season just started but it's still better to get it up early.
7:58 I come downstairs to a very messy table. Sometimes I have everyone come up and hang laundry
with me to try to lessen this inevitability, but some days everyone is just too hungry to wait. I
serve up seconds, help Simeon get a drink of milk, and clean up some messes before they spread
too much.
8:11 I grab something to eat. I usually take bites between helping Simeon eat and drink, taking dishes
to the outdoor kitchen, helping Hollis and Simeon wash up, and doing whatever else needs to be
done for the morning.
8:17 Eris wakes up and starts reading. I ask her if she wants to eat, and she says, "Not now." I tell her
that she needs to eat soon because I'm starting to clean up. No response.
8:22 Just as I'm about to wipe off the table, Eris decides she wants breakfast. I pour her some milk
and get her a dish. I wipe off the table around her and sweep the floor.
8:25 Eris is finished, so I wipe up her spot. If she forgets to take her dishes to the sink, I have to
decide whether to do it myself or call her back to do it.
8:31 It's about time to start school. But before that, Hollis comes in wanting a drink. I haven't washed
the cups from breakfast yet, so I do that and then get her a drink.
8:36 Now Simeon wants a drink, I hunt around for his sippy cup. When I can't find it, I end up
helping him drink from a regular cup.
8:42 I'm about to call the girls in to start school when I notice that Simeon doesn't smell so nice. I
change his diaper.
8:47 About this time, I notice that it's starting to get dark. I run upstairs to grab the laundry as big
drops start coming down. I find places to hang the damp clothes to finish drying, while Simeon
does his best to take everything down as fast as I can put it up.
9:12 I start singing our beginning of school song and the kids come running. I sit down, and Simeon
sits in my lap; he's soaking wet. It could be from grabbing a full cup off the counter or from a
very wet diaper. Either way, he needs to be changed.
9:30 It doesn't seem to matter how early we are up, we never manage to start school before 9:30.
There are many variations of this schedule. Events happen in different orders or at different times. But it's always a rush of activity from the moment of waking. One day all my children will be potty-trained, one day they will be making breakfast for me, maybe even one day I will have a dryer, or maybe we'll have to all be up and out of the house at a certain time. So this is written as a memorandum, so I will always remember these days, and as a tribute to all mothers across all time who have very busy mornings. May we always prevail and make it to the early afternoon lull.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
The Ever Present Jing-Jok
I suppose one cannot be a blogger and live in Thailand without writing something about the little creatures we share our lives with. Simeon recognizes the Thai word; when he hears it, he looks up and points at the ceiling. So what is are jing-jok? They are small geckos with sticky feet, walking on ceilings and walls all around our house. For Thai people, the name is onomatopoeic, but I think they sound more like chee-chik-chee. They really are everywhere. For months, Hollis would excitedly point them out, but eventually they became common even for her. We even have some recognizable friends. There is the one who has a waddle to his walk who is usually on the living room ceiling during the bedtime routine. One snacks on the ants in the indoor kitchen. I have a particular friend who peeks through the wall slits in the outdoor kitchen to watch me wash dishes. His friend lost his tail somehow, and we have been watching it grow out since we've lived here; it takes a long time for a gecko to regrow his tail. More lizards live in the outdoor kitchen than any other place. They enjoy snacking bits of food left in the sink and on the ants which try to snack on that food. When we first move here, I was always startled when I went to turn on the sink and a gecko speed past my hand up the wall. I learned to brace myself for this, and I now I am rarely surprised.
Due to their habit of turning up in random places, I have been responsible for the death of three jing-jok. Not long after we moved in, I was cooking something on the stove when I watched a gecko drop from the ceiling onto the pot lid. He slithered off and managed to make it under the stove where I watched him pant terribly until he sighed his last breath. It was a pitiable sound. Fortunately, these lizards rarely fall from the ceilings or walls. This is the only time I can recall it happening in my sight. I have read that it only happens when they are copulating but have not cared to try to verify this.
The second little jing-jok just happened to be in the hinge of the back doorway when I shut it for the night. I couldn't figure out what was keeping the door from shutting all the way. It's common to have to clear toys, sandals, and sticks out of the way. I looked on the floor and didn't notice anything, so tried again. It was then that I happened to look toward the hinge and notice the smashed lizard. I was so traumatized, I asked Philip to remove it and shut the door for me. Now, I try to remember to look around the door posts before shutting a door. This has saved more than one other lizard from a similar fate.
The third and last lizard (to date) to suffer a terrible fate at my hands managed to have extremely bad luck. I was trying to get some small toys out from under a cupboard which had sliding glass doors. As I lifted up the cupboard to try to shift it, the glass panels came lose and shattered on the floor. A jing-jok just happened to be between the two panels and was squashed upon impact.
I imagine there will be more instances of jing-jok ending up in dangerous situations, but overall we manage to dwell in harmony. Generally, I find the little guys rather cute. Sometimes I am annoyed by their constant presence. They seem to enjoy hiding under my counter-top stove, and then scramble out frantically when I light it. They also leave droppings but are not as prolific in this department as mice, fortunately. By sweeping out the kitchen floor and scrubbing the counter every morning, I am able to keep my kitchen fairly clean. I have also learned to keep my clean pots and pans covered. It's easy to learn to live with these mosquito and ant eating critters.
Due to their habit of turning up in random places, I have been responsible for the death of three jing-jok. Not long after we moved in, I was cooking something on the stove when I watched a gecko drop from the ceiling onto the pot lid. He slithered off and managed to make it under the stove where I watched him pant terribly until he sighed his last breath. It was a pitiable sound. Fortunately, these lizards rarely fall from the ceilings or walls. This is the only time I can recall it happening in my sight. I have read that it only happens when they are copulating but have not cared to try to verify this.
The second little jing-jok just happened to be in the hinge of the back doorway when I shut it for the night. I couldn't figure out what was keeping the door from shutting all the way. It's common to have to clear toys, sandals, and sticks out of the way. I looked on the floor and didn't notice anything, so tried again. It was then that I happened to look toward the hinge and notice the smashed lizard. I was so traumatized, I asked Philip to remove it and shut the door for me. Now, I try to remember to look around the door posts before shutting a door. This has saved more than one other lizard from a similar fate.
The third and last lizard (to date) to suffer a terrible fate at my hands managed to have extremely bad luck. I was trying to get some small toys out from under a cupboard which had sliding glass doors. As I lifted up the cupboard to try to shift it, the glass panels came lose and shattered on the floor. A jing-jok just happened to be between the two panels and was squashed upon impact.
I imagine there will be more instances of jing-jok ending up in dangerous situations, but overall we manage to dwell in harmony. Generally, I find the little guys rather cute. Sometimes I am annoyed by their constant presence. They seem to enjoy hiding under my counter-top stove, and then scramble out frantically when I light it. They also leave droppings but are not as prolific in this department as mice, fortunately. By sweeping out the kitchen floor and scrubbing the counter every morning, I am able to keep my kitchen fairly clean. I have also learned to keep my clean pots and pans covered. It's easy to learn to live with these mosquito and ant eating critters.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Holding on to God's Promises
Today, the girls and I read 2 Chronicles 30 about Hezekiah proclaiming a Passover celebration. Whenever we read about the various Israelite remembrances, I take the opportunity to remind the girls of stories from our own family history of how God has taken care of us. It's easy to get discouraged when I look at the day to day drudgery and wonder about God's provision and plan for us. A year ago today, I earned my private pilot's license. It was a nerve-wracking, exciting day. But as soon as I received congratulations from my instructor, I had to go home and finish the myriad of tasks required for moving a family of six overseas. I didn't have an opportunity to take my husband or one of my children on a flight. Since that time, I have not flown once. So why did God bless with flying lessons, and then bring me to a place where I am unable to fly?
I recently had the opportunity to observe a clinic for sex workers here in Bangkok. I really enjoyed being able to use my medical skills to show God's love to those women. It felt rewarding to be apart of a small medical community. I wanted to continue to help in the clinic, but after researching the requirements for medical volunteers in Thailand, I learned that I would need to have a full Thai medical license. This entails taking a written test in Thai, as well as paying a large fee for a license. So why did God allow me to learn about this clinic, only to be unable to help? Why did God bring me to a country where it would be so difficult for me get a medical license?
I do not have specific answers to the above questions, but I do know that God does not reveal His long term plans to us and His ways are loftier than ours. I am thinking about what seems good today; God is thinking about eternity. I like to have a long term plan: I will train and get my instrument flying rating at this time and place, I will begin working part-time in a mission clinic when Simeon is a certain age, God will give our family an airplane in a specific year, etc. But if God wanted me to know all this, He would let me know. So what does He want for me instead? He wants me to trust Him day by day; He wants me to celebrate the times that He has provided and kept His promises. I know that He will fulfill His will for my life to be a physician and a pilot to His glory. That's all I need to know. God promised Abraham a son; Isaac was born twenty-five years later. I pray that I will be patient to wait for God and not try to rush into second (or third or fourth) best.
While we have many stories of remembrance, the following is one that demonstrates our waiting and holding on to God's promises. My husband and I had felt God guiding us toward moving to Thailand in Fall 2013. We were waiting for university contacts to give us the green light by committing to provide paperwork for visas and sponsoring Philip's research. When this happened, we sold or packed up everything we owned and moved to Bangkok in a month. We didn't have much time to plan what we was going to happen once we got here. As God helped all the last minute details fall into place, we trusted that He would provide for us upon arrival. We arranged places to stay for the first five weeks.
Being from smallish cities in the United States, my children are used to having room. We had an average size yard in the States, meaning they had plenty of room to run around, play in the mud, plant flowers and vegetables. We had a sidewalk in front of the house for riding bicycles and scooters. I felt that I would be unable to function on a daily basis without an outdoor space for my children to play wildly and loudly. I needed to be able to say to them, "Go play outside!" instead of, "When I finish washing dishes and hanging up laundry, I will take you on a 20 minute bus ride to the nearest playground." I wanted to be able to invite other children to play in our yard and adults to relax in our home. I planned to have a place with room for visitors, not just my parents who could squeeze in anywhere if necessary. I prayed about this a lot and believed that God promised me He would provide.
Philip later told me that He believed God would find us a house during our first week here; that we would move from the five story town house, straight into our new home. I was a bit less optimistic, sure that we would have a house before our month in the guest house was complete. We did not make plans past those first five weeks, because we were so sure that God would provide. As the time neared for us to move out of the guest house, I prayed more fervently and even began to doubt. I spent hours with a Thai friend, looking online for houses and calling realtors. Philip walked around promising neighborhoods and rode around on the back of a friend's moped looking for signs. We spoke to everyone we could letting them know of what we were looking for. We found a great place, and even paid a deposit, only to have a misunderstanding due to the language barrier cause it to fall through. At the beginning of January, we moved into one room in a hotel.
Why would God allow this to happen? We had so much faith in His provision. We had prayed and believed that He would provide a house with a yard. I was discouraged and frustrated. My resolve to wait for a house was tested: lugging laundry downstairs to wash in the lobby while trying to keep four children entertained and not too wild, carefully picking my way around as to not step on children sleeping on all available floor space, threading through crowded side-walks with a trail of children behind me just to complete the first stage of a journey to a park or play area. I realized that living in our own apartment would be much better than this. I briefly started looking at townhouses and apartments, but my heart was not in it. Around this time, I found another house to look at. My friend called, and it was available! For the second time, we put a deposit on a house. A few days later, the realtor called to say that the family had decided not to move, and she would meet me to return our deposit.
I would like to say that I had staunch faith, that I never doubted for a moment, that I was so sure of God's provision that I rejoiced in this turn of events. But that's not true... I cried, I got angry, I wanted to give up. The hotel we were staying at, reneged on the special monthly rate we had negotiated. We began to look for another place to live. I contacted the guest house and found that the apartment there was available for another month. I spent this month really searching my heart. Was my desire for a house with a yard, my desire only or was it God's desire for us? I read Scripture some, but mostly just prayed. I again started looking at townhouses with small fenced parking areas instead of just detached houses with yards. I asked God to change my heart if He wanted us to live in an apartment. Maybe we were supposed to live more like locals in Bangkok. God had given me the sanity and peace to live in a hotel for a month, maybe He wanted to teach me to rely on Him more by living in an apartment. I asked Philip his thoughts, and he told me that he supported me either way. He did not feel strongly about living in a house versus an apartment. So God had given me a promise and had not related it to my husband. It was up to me to believe God's promise or doubt that I was really hearing God's voice and find an apartment to rent.
I'm not sure how long I looked at apartments and townhouses, but in my heart I knew that I was sinning. It was like Abraham taking Hagar; if we moved into an apartment or townhouse, we would be accepting less than God's best plan for us. I finally told Philip that God had not allowed me to have a change of heart and that I needed to only look at houses. He supported me in this decision. Meanwhile, our time at the guest house was running out. We packed up our suitcases again and moved into a one bedroom apartment. This was much better than a hotel. We had a tiny kitchen with a microwave and refrigerator. We had a living room to read or talk in while the kids slept in the bedroom. I did have to carrying the laundry down the street to some outdoor washing machines, but I considered that weight lifting. I was so thankful to not be living back in a hotel, and that gratitude spread to the children. The apartment even had a swimming pool!
During this time, Philip suggested that I contact the realtor of the second house, just to let them know we were still looking for a home in case they might reconsider moving. I was a little hesitant to do this, as I didn't want to be pushy. However, what did I have to lose? So I sent her a message, and then didn't hear anything. On March 16, my Thai friend sent me a message to call her when I had a chance. When I returned her call, she told me that the family of the house had indeed decided to move and wanted to rent us the house. The house would be available April 1st, the day Philip left for a two week trip to the States and a few days before our apartment contract finished. After moving six times in four months, we finally had a home!
This is just one part of our testimony of God's provision. As I write this, my children are playing in the yard. We have trees for them to climb, a driveway for them to ride bicycles, mud for them to play in, frogs for them to catch, a hose for them to wash off. How different would this story have been if we had not chosen to wait for God's timing? We could be living in an apartment with no yard or a townhouse with a small cement carport to play in. Yes, God's grace would have helped us to live in such a place; He could have used us in that setting. But He wanted to bless us, and He wanted to teach us. He wanted us to have this story to remind our children that we need to wait and hold on to His promises. Instead of forgetting, we need to celebrate our "feast days" and worship the Lord.
I recently had the opportunity to observe a clinic for sex workers here in Bangkok. I really enjoyed being able to use my medical skills to show God's love to those women. It felt rewarding to be apart of a small medical community. I wanted to continue to help in the clinic, but after researching the requirements for medical volunteers in Thailand, I learned that I would need to have a full Thai medical license. This entails taking a written test in Thai, as well as paying a large fee for a license. So why did God allow me to learn about this clinic, only to be unable to help? Why did God bring me to a country where it would be so difficult for me get a medical license?
I do not have specific answers to the above questions, but I do know that God does not reveal His long term plans to us and His ways are loftier than ours. I am thinking about what seems good today; God is thinking about eternity. I like to have a long term plan: I will train and get my instrument flying rating at this time and place, I will begin working part-time in a mission clinic when Simeon is a certain age, God will give our family an airplane in a specific year, etc. But if God wanted me to know all this, He would let me know. So what does He want for me instead? He wants me to trust Him day by day; He wants me to celebrate the times that He has provided and kept His promises. I know that He will fulfill His will for my life to be a physician and a pilot to His glory. That's all I need to know. God promised Abraham a son; Isaac was born twenty-five years later. I pray that I will be patient to wait for God and not try to rush into second (or third or fourth) best.
While we have many stories of remembrance, the following is one that demonstrates our waiting and holding on to God's promises. My husband and I had felt God guiding us toward moving to Thailand in Fall 2013. We were waiting for university contacts to give us the green light by committing to provide paperwork for visas and sponsoring Philip's research. When this happened, we sold or packed up everything we owned and moved to Bangkok in a month. We didn't have much time to plan what we was going to happen once we got here. As God helped all the last minute details fall into place, we trusted that He would provide for us upon arrival. We arranged places to stay for the first five weeks.
Being from smallish cities in the United States, my children are used to having room. We had an average size yard in the States, meaning they had plenty of room to run around, play in the mud, plant flowers and vegetables. We had a sidewalk in front of the house for riding bicycles and scooters. I felt that I would be unable to function on a daily basis without an outdoor space for my children to play wildly and loudly. I needed to be able to say to them, "Go play outside!" instead of, "When I finish washing dishes and hanging up laundry, I will take you on a 20 minute bus ride to the nearest playground." I wanted to be able to invite other children to play in our yard and adults to relax in our home. I planned to have a place with room for visitors, not just my parents who could squeeze in anywhere if necessary. I prayed about this a lot and believed that God promised me He would provide.
Philip later told me that He believed God would find us a house during our first week here; that we would move from the five story town house, straight into our new home. I was a bit less optimistic, sure that we would have a house before our month in the guest house was complete. We did not make plans past those first five weeks, because we were so sure that God would provide. As the time neared for us to move out of the guest house, I prayed more fervently and even began to doubt. I spent hours with a Thai friend, looking online for houses and calling realtors. Philip walked around promising neighborhoods and rode around on the back of a friend's moped looking for signs. We spoke to everyone we could letting them know of what we were looking for. We found a great place, and even paid a deposit, only to have a misunderstanding due to the language barrier cause it to fall through. At the beginning of January, we moved into one room in a hotel.
Why would God allow this to happen? We had so much faith in His provision. We had prayed and believed that He would provide a house with a yard. I was discouraged and frustrated. My resolve to wait for a house was tested: lugging laundry downstairs to wash in the lobby while trying to keep four children entertained and not too wild, carefully picking my way around as to not step on children sleeping on all available floor space, threading through crowded side-walks with a trail of children behind me just to complete the first stage of a journey to a park or play area. I realized that living in our own apartment would be much better than this. I briefly started looking at townhouses and apartments, but my heart was not in it. Around this time, I found another house to look at. My friend called, and it was available! For the second time, we put a deposit on a house. A few days later, the realtor called to say that the family had decided not to move, and she would meet me to return our deposit.
I would like to say that I had staunch faith, that I never doubted for a moment, that I was so sure of God's provision that I rejoiced in this turn of events. But that's not true... I cried, I got angry, I wanted to give up. The hotel we were staying at, reneged on the special monthly rate we had negotiated. We began to look for another place to live. I contacted the guest house and found that the apartment there was available for another month. I spent this month really searching my heart. Was my desire for a house with a yard, my desire only or was it God's desire for us? I read Scripture some, but mostly just prayed. I again started looking at townhouses with small fenced parking areas instead of just detached houses with yards. I asked God to change my heart if He wanted us to live in an apartment. Maybe we were supposed to live more like locals in Bangkok. God had given me the sanity and peace to live in a hotel for a month, maybe He wanted to teach me to rely on Him more by living in an apartment. I asked Philip his thoughts, and he told me that he supported me either way. He did not feel strongly about living in a house versus an apartment. So God had given me a promise and had not related it to my husband. It was up to me to believe God's promise or doubt that I was really hearing God's voice and find an apartment to rent.
I'm not sure how long I looked at apartments and townhouses, but in my heart I knew that I was sinning. It was like Abraham taking Hagar; if we moved into an apartment or townhouse, we would be accepting less than God's best plan for us. I finally told Philip that God had not allowed me to have a change of heart and that I needed to only look at houses. He supported me in this decision. Meanwhile, our time at the guest house was running out. We packed up our suitcases again and moved into a one bedroom apartment. This was much better than a hotel. We had a tiny kitchen with a microwave and refrigerator. We had a living room to read or talk in while the kids slept in the bedroom. I did have to carrying the laundry down the street to some outdoor washing machines, but I considered that weight lifting. I was so thankful to not be living back in a hotel, and that gratitude spread to the children. The apartment even had a swimming pool!
During this time, Philip suggested that I contact the realtor of the second house, just to let them know we were still looking for a home in case they might reconsider moving. I was a little hesitant to do this, as I didn't want to be pushy. However, what did I have to lose? So I sent her a message, and then didn't hear anything. On March 16, my Thai friend sent me a message to call her when I had a chance. When I returned her call, she told me that the family of the house had indeed decided to move and wanted to rent us the house. The house would be available April 1st, the day Philip left for a two week trip to the States and a few days before our apartment contract finished. After moving six times in four months, we finally had a home!
This is just one part of our testimony of God's provision. As I write this, my children are playing in the yard. We have trees for them to climb, a driveway for them to ride bicycles, mud for them to play in, frogs for them to catch, a hose for them to wash off. How different would this story have been if we had not chosen to wait for God's timing? We could be living in an apartment with no yard or a townhouse with a small cement carport to play in. Yes, God's grace would have helped us to live in such a place; He could have used us in that setting. But He wanted to bless us, and He wanted to teach us. He wanted us to have this story to remind our children that we need to wait and hold on to His promises. Instead of forgetting, we need to celebrate our "feast days" and worship the Lord.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
The First Viper: God's Protection
Last night around 9:30, Philip opened the front door and was about to step onto the mat when he noticed that one of the stripes was raised up with an open mouth. He quickly backed inside and firmly shut the door. I was Skyping with a good friend when Philip told me that there was a bright green snake at the front door. I confirmed his thoughts that this meant it was poisonous. Armed with a grasping mop handle, Philip headed out the back door around to the front. The snake was still in position waiting to strike whatever stepped out the front door. Philip meant to catch it with the mop grabber and put it into the trash can. However, he realized that he didn't know what to do with it after that. If he released it anywhere in our neighborhood, it would likely find its way back here. Besides, he did not want to be responsible for someone else getting bitten. The only responsible thing to do was to kill it.
I was still chatting with Heather, but also praying for Philip's safety. If I had known he had initially thought to capture it, I would have been praying harder! Once he decided to kill it, Philip had to decide what to use. He called me to bring him the 10+ foot bamboo pole that was on our large upstairs balcony. I lowered it done to him from the front balcony. This whole time the snake had thankfully stayed on the small front porch, curling up, backing into position, and rearing up to open its mouth. Now Philip took aim with the tip of the pole, prayed, and struck out. He hit the snake's head between the pole and the baseboard of the porch cupboard. The snake squirmed a little bit but was obviously lethally injured. Philip hit him a few more times to make sure he was rendered harmless before taking a closer look.
He called me to see. Seeing the bring green up close made me appreciate the fact that Philip had known from the beginning; this really was a dangerous snake. We examined the markings: bring green back, a slightly lighter yellowish belly, a white stripe in between. A white-lipped pit viper: commonly stirring after dark and traveling on the ground, known for frequent run-ins with humans, quick to strike, venom causes serious pain and necrosis but is not usually lethal. I asked Philip, "What in the world was it doing on our door mat?" He shrugged, and I answered my own question, "Maybe God sent him there so you would find him and take care of him before one of the children found him sleeping in the garden." I don't know if that's true, but I do know that God allowed Philip to see the snake before he stepped on it and gave him time to retreat. He helped him to be able to hit it and injure it on the first blow and protected him from getting bitten. While it's not comfortable to live in a place where my children could wander upon deadly snakes in the garden, it is very comforting to know that God is watching out for all of them. And I am also thankful that anti-venom against all vipers is available in Thailand. Now I've just got to learn how to say, "A snake bit my child/husband!" in Thai.
I was still chatting with Heather, but also praying for Philip's safety. If I had known he had initially thought to capture it, I would have been praying harder! Once he decided to kill it, Philip had to decide what to use. He called me to bring him the 10+ foot bamboo pole that was on our large upstairs balcony. I lowered it done to him from the front balcony. This whole time the snake had thankfully stayed on the small front porch, curling up, backing into position, and rearing up to open its mouth. Now Philip took aim with the tip of the pole, prayed, and struck out. He hit the snake's head between the pole and the baseboard of the porch cupboard. The snake squirmed a little bit but was obviously lethally injured. Philip hit him a few more times to make sure he was rendered harmless before taking a closer look.
He called me to see. Seeing the bring green up close made me appreciate the fact that Philip had known from the beginning; this really was a dangerous snake. We examined the markings: bring green back, a slightly lighter yellowish belly, a white stripe in between. A white-lipped pit viper: commonly stirring after dark and traveling on the ground, known for frequent run-ins with humans, quick to strike, venom causes serious pain and necrosis but is not usually lethal. I asked Philip, "What in the world was it doing on our door mat?" He shrugged, and I answered my own question, "Maybe God sent him there so you would find him and take care of him before one of the children found him sleeping in the garden." I don't know if that's true, but I do know that God allowed Philip to see the snake before he stepped on it and gave him time to retreat. He helped him to be able to hit it and injure it on the first blow and protected him from getting bitten. While it's not comfortable to live in a place where my children could wander upon deadly snakes in the garden, it is very comforting to know that God is watching out for all of them. And I am also thankful that anti-venom against all vipers is available in Thailand. Now I've just got to learn how to say, "A snake bit my child/husband!" in Thai.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Benefits of Work-At-Home Daddy
Sometimes I dream of a husband with a "typical" 9-to-5 job. We would all eat breakfast together in the mornings; he would be home in time for supper, after which we would have family time then get the kids ready for bed together. He wouldn't have to do any work in the evenings or on weekends. I know the reality would likely involve having to do extra work from home or stay late. And I remember when he was trying to go to his office at Thammasat University regularly, commuting two hours each way! So to counteract my musings of an alternate reality, I write why I am thankful for my work-at-home husband.
Since he works late into the night, his only truly distraction-free time, he is usually not awake for breakfast. However, he is always home for lunch. He often goes out to bring lunch home for us, saving me the trouble of getting four children dressed, sandaled, and out the gate. He's also always home for supper on time. No trying to keep supper hot or hungry children entertained until Daddy walk in the door. A couple rounds of "The Lord is Good to Me" (our traditional waiting for Daddy at mealtime song) while he finishes grading a paper or reading an article, and we're ready to eat together.
He's available for back-up. How many mothers would love to have an extra hand around when everything goes wrong at once. Eris, my seven year old, can help play with Simeon while I clean up Hollis's accident on the floor. But sometimes, an adult or even just an extra helper is ideal. Sometimes Daddy is able to calm Simeon to sleep in his lap while I fix supper. Sometimes Meriel is stuck in a tree at the same time Hollis is sitting on Eris and won't get off at the same time I'm changing Simeon's blow-out diaper. This sort of scenario happens fairly often with four children. And of course, no matter how calm everything seems to be beforehand, something is bound to happen the second I'm in the bathroom. These moments, Philip is able to step in and help bring things to order much more quickly than if I were home alone.
He is the escalated disciplinarian. For some reason, fathers tend to be better at disciplining children. I remember being afraid of my father in a way I was not afraid of my mother. We haven't spanked in our house yet, but just the girls will sit quietly for time out in Philip's study when they won't sit in the kitchen. He is sitting there keeping an eye on them, while I am unable to watch the time out spot the whole time because I have duties all over the house. If they will not sit in time out at all, one of us has to hold them down. While I have the strength to hold a tantrum throwing three or five year old down, Philip is better able to do this. Also, if I'm nursing a napping baby in my lap, I'm loathe to cut the nap short to deal with a naughty child. So while I handle much of the discipline myself, it's nice to know I have back-up in the house.
The first post on this blog was about the scary creatures in and around our house. If I really had to, I would figure out a way to squash a huge spider (I have done away with one medium-size one) or get a snake out of our yard, but it is comforting to know my husband is around to deal with these for me. I don't even have to get frogs out of the bathroom or crabs out of my kitchen. The girls know who to call, "Spider catcher! Spider catcher!" running to Philip's study.
He can spend time with the kids during the day. He often takes Eris and Meriel bicycle riding in the Yaek (our small dead end street). He will sometimes take a child or two to the bulk market for cheese and yogurt. He can work in the yard in daylight hours. He can run upstairs and help me grab laundry off the line when it starts raining suddenly. He can catch the vegetable truck while I'm in the middle of fixing supper. We can go to the water park, zoo, or a museum on a week day to avoid crowds.
I'm sure this is not an exclusive list of reasons to be thankful for having my husband home, but these all easily came to mind. So while Philip may work all hours of the day and night, while I almost exclusively care for the children twenty-four hours a day, he is always available by a knock at his study door. We almost certainly have more time together as a whole family than those with a dad away at work. Our children are just as thrilled to see Daddy emerge from his study as they would be to welcome him home after a day at work. Surely our situation will one day change, Philip will have to go outside the house to work, our kids will grow older and present new difficulties, I will start working as a physician again. But for now, I am so thankful to be home with my children and my husband just behind a door.
Since he works late into the night, his only truly distraction-free time, he is usually not awake for breakfast. However, he is always home for lunch. He often goes out to bring lunch home for us, saving me the trouble of getting four children dressed, sandaled, and out the gate. He's also always home for supper on time. No trying to keep supper hot or hungry children entertained until Daddy walk in the door. A couple rounds of "The Lord is Good to Me" (our traditional waiting for Daddy at mealtime song) while he finishes grading a paper or reading an article, and we're ready to eat together.
He's available for back-up. How many mothers would love to have an extra hand around when everything goes wrong at once. Eris, my seven year old, can help play with Simeon while I clean up Hollis's accident on the floor. But sometimes, an adult or even just an extra helper is ideal. Sometimes Daddy is able to calm Simeon to sleep in his lap while I fix supper. Sometimes Meriel is stuck in a tree at the same time Hollis is sitting on Eris and won't get off at the same time I'm changing Simeon's blow-out diaper. This sort of scenario happens fairly often with four children. And of course, no matter how calm everything seems to be beforehand, something is bound to happen the second I'm in the bathroom. These moments, Philip is able to step in and help bring things to order much more quickly than if I were home alone.
He is the escalated disciplinarian. For some reason, fathers tend to be better at disciplining children. I remember being afraid of my father in a way I was not afraid of my mother. We haven't spanked in our house yet, but just the girls will sit quietly for time out in Philip's study when they won't sit in the kitchen. He is sitting there keeping an eye on them, while I am unable to watch the time out spot the whole time because I have duties all over the house. If they will not sit in time out at all, one of us has to hold them down. While I have the strength to hold a tantrum throwing three or five year old down, Philip is better able to do this. Also, if I'm nursing a napping baby in my lap, I'm loathe to cut the nap short to deal with a naughty child. So while I handle much of the discipline myself, it's nice to know I have back-up in the house.
The first post on this blog was about the scary creatures in and around our house. If I really had to, I would figure out a way to squash a huge spider (I have done away with one medium-size one) or get a snake out of our yard, but it is comforting to know my husband is around to deal with these for me. I don't even have to get frogs out of the bathroom or crabs out of my kitchen. The girls know who to call, "Spider catcher! Spider catcher!" running to Philip's study.
He can spend time with the kids during the day. He often takes Eris and Meriel bicycle riding in the Yaek (our small dead end street). He will sometimes take a child or two to the bulk market for cheese and yogurt. He can work in the yard in daylight hours. He can run upstairs and help me grab laundry off the line when it starts raining suddenly. He can catch the vegetable truck while I'm in the middle of fixing supper. We can go to the water park, zoo, or a museum on a week day to avoid crowds.
I'm sure this is not an exclusive list of reasons to be thankful for having my husband home, but these all easily came to mind. So while Philip may work all hours of the day and night, while I almost exclusively care for the children twenty-four hours a day, he is always available by a knock at his study door. We almost certainly have more time together as a whole family than those with a dad away at work. Our children are just as thrilled to see Daddy emerge from his study as they would be to welcome him home after a day at work. Surely our situation will one day change, Philip will have to go outside the house to work, our kids will grow older and present new difficulties, I will start working as a physician again. But for now, I am so thankful to be home with my children and my husband just behind a door.
Friday, November 7, 2014
Loi Kratong: Festival of Lights
Yesterday (the full moon of the twelfth lunar month) was Loi Kratong, one of Thailand's most important holidays. A Google search will get you more information about the holiday, but no one is sure on the history nor is there a unified significance behind floating a Kratong. Loi means float; a kratong is a decoration meant to float. Basically, a person or group floats a kratong out onto a body of water to symbolize letting go of negative feelings and light a candle to symbolize a prayer or a wish. Kratong are traditionally made from banana plants: a slice of trunk as the base with strips of leaves folded for decoration. We did not want to cut down one of our banana trees for just a slice, and I didn't find any bases for sale, although I'm sure they could be found if I knew where to look. At the supermarket on Sunday, I noticed bread kratongs, so I decided to bake a round loaf of bread for our base. A bread kratong takes three days to compose (according to a poster I saw) as opposed to fourteen for a banana one and fifty years for a Styrofoam base.
When the bread base was ready, I called the girls to go out to the yard to gather flowers and leaves. We covered the base with a banana leaf and made a border of folded strips. We used only toothpicks for holding in place. Our main flowering plant is a bougainvillea bush, so it turned out a lovely pinkish-purple. It proved to be beautiful reflecting the candlelight. We were pleased with the outcome, and I fervently hoped it would float.
We took a picnic supper to nearby Jatujak Park. I placed the kratong on a plate, covered it with a large bowl and carried it in a cloth casserole holder. Thankfully, it made it to the park in good condition. The girls played at the playground until it began to get dark, then we ate supper. A crowd began to form around the pond. I remarked to Philip how neat is was to have a holiday that basically requires everyone to gather with strangers at a public place. Our nearest equivalent would be Fourth of July when we gather outside to watch fireworks. We cleared up our picnic and joined the crowd. We watched a few others light and float their kratong, so we would know the "proper" way to do it. Then we lit our candle, thanked God for the Light of the World, and floated our kratong. Yes, it did float! The girls and I splashed waves to push it further out. Among the mostly boughten kratong, ours was lovely.
A couple nearby gave the girls sparklers. We watched others light and float their kratong, a few small families and many couples, only a few other farang (non-Asian foreigners). We felt a part of the Thai culture in a small way. Although it gets dark around six o'clock and was only about seven, the girls were tired. We went to the edge of the pond to say good-bye to our kratong. It was the furthest one out and the candle was still lit. Good Night, Loi Kratong!
When the bread base was ready, I called the girls to go out to the yard to gather flowers and leaves. We covered the base with a banana leaf and made a border of folded strips. We used only toothpicks for holding in place. Our main flowering plant is a bougainvillea bush, so it turned out a lovely pinkish-purple. It proved to be beautiful reflecting the candlelight. We were pleased with the outcome, and I fervently hoped it would float.
We took a picnic supper to nearby Jatujak Park. I placed the kratong on a plate, covered it with a large bowl and carried it in a cloth casserole holder. Thankfully, it made it to the park in good condition. The girls played at the playground until it began to get dark, then we ate supper. A crowd began to form around the pond. I remarked to Philip how neat is was to have a holiday that basically requires everyone to gather with strangers at a public place. Our nearest equivalent would be Fourth of July when we gather outside to watch fireworks. We cleared up our picnic and joined the crowd. We watched a few others light and float their kratong, so we would know the "proper" way to do it. Then we lit our candle, thanked God for the Light of the World, and floated our kratong. Yes, it did float! The girls and I splashed waves to push it further out. Among the mostly boughten kratong, ours was lovely.
A couple nearby gave the girls sparklers. We watched others light and float their kratong, a few small families and many couples, only a few other farang (non-Asian foreigners). We felt a part of the Thai culture in a small way. Although it gets dark around six o'clock and was only about seven, the girls were tired. We went to the edge of the pond to say good-bye to our kratong. It was the furthest one out and the candle was still lit. Good Night, Loi Kratong!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Shadows and Strings
Yesterday we attended a few shows at the "Harmony World Puppet Carnival Bangkok 2014." The festival showcases 160 puppet troupes from around the world. I thought this would be a fun event for the kids and with all the events free, there was really no reason not to go. So I picked a convenient day and booked a few shows for us. The shows were at a handful of museums and galleries near the Grand Palace. The trip to the first venue was uneventful and took less time than we had planned (an amazing occurrence in Bangkok's legendary traffic). We walked around Democracy Monument and snacked on roasted bananas, fresh mango and watermelon, and fried bread balls.
The first show was a "workshop" by a hand shadow puppet group from Georgia (the country, not the state). After being welcomed by a recording in approximately ten languages, one of the group members told us a little about the history of the troupe. It was started by a man who was interested in puppeteering but couldn't afford puppets. He began using just his hands because that's all he had, but he became so good at this that it became a show in its own right. We got to go behind stage and watch how the members worked together to make pretty impressive shadow images: a spider playing the piano made the girls laugh, flowers budding, a bird catching a fly to name a few. My favorite was dancing bears. Then we had a chance to try ourselves, but only Hollis was brave enough to do so. One of the puppeteers helped her to shape a brief spider, then she was done.
The next place was about a ten minute walk away. There was a shuttle but it wasn't due to arrive for another twenty to thirty minutes, and I was worried about missing the start of the next show. Despite "booking" for the shows, there seemed no record of it at the first location, and we were told "first come, first served." With this in mind, we opted to walk. It started to sprinkle, then rain, then pour. It wouldn't have been so bad except for the shows were inside in air conditioned buildings. Oh well, we made it to the next place in good time. This show was called "The Road to Bolero" and was a story about the "Little Orchestra" performing their opening night of Maurice Revel's Bolero. Eris was able to follow the story, laughing at all the appropriate times. She later declared this her favorite performance. Hollis was sitting on Philip's lap, and she was watching a completely different story unfold. She told Philip that the lion was having trouble. He asked her to point out the lion next time it was up, and she pointed out the flute playing puppet saying, "There's the lion!"
We then went to try to find something to eat. We had speculated that the carnival organizers would have arranged for food vendors to be around Sanam Luang, the huge lawn by the Palace and where an outdoor stage was set up. The place was nearly deserted. We asked the girls if they would like to find a restaurant for a "real supper" or to look for a snack and go to another show. They all agreed, "snack and another show!" Hollis was really hoping to find ice cream, but all we found were Thai hot dogs at a stand outside the park.
The last show of the night was a rendition of Peru's Andean Ritual Scissors Dance done by a single performer. It began with cut out puppets of alpacas and eagles and then proceeded with a serious of puppets performing the dance. First flat cut out puppets maneuvered with sticks behind demonstrated the dance. This was followed by two hand puppets upside down from traditional puppets, so fingers could be used for legs. A whimsical six-inch marionette danced on the audience's hands and heads; next a three foot high marionette danced around the entire stage. While Philip would have preferred a more traditional set up where the puppeteer was hidden behind a curtain, but I did enjoy seeing the manipulations of the puppet as his legs kicked and his body leapt. At the climax, the puppeteer dressed himself in the traditional dancer regalia and performed his own dance. It's difficult to describe the kicking, somersaulting, and jumping across the stage all while clacking a pair of unjoined scissors as castanets. Both Meriel and Hollis chose show as their favorite. Meriel was particularly impressing, recognizing it would be difficult to learn all the different moves in the dance.
After getting our exhausted children tucked in, Philip noted, "Think of the difference between this afternoon and evening from the one which would have been if we had stayed home." Rich experiences for our children come at a cost: the risk of it not being worth it, time on buses in traffic, late bedtimes, less than ideal meals. Now I wouldn't want to do this sort of thing every day, but this evening with at the Puppet Carnival was worth it; it will be a memorable event for awhile yet.
The first show was a "workshop" by a hand shadow puppet group from Georgia (the country, not the state). After being welcomed by a recording in approximately ten languages, one of the group members told us a little about the history of the troupe. It was started by a man who was interested in puppeteering but couldn't afford puppets. He began using just his hands because that's all he had, but he became so good at this that it became a show in its own right. We got to go behind stage and watch how the members worked together to make pretty impressive shadow images: a spider playing the piano made the girls laugh, flowers budding, a bird catching a fly to name a few. My favorite was dancing bears. Then we had a chance to try ourselves, but only Hollis was brave enough to do so. One of the puppeteers helped her to shape a brief spider, then she was done.
The next place was about a ten minute walk away. There was a shuttle but it wasn't due to arrive for another twenty to thirty minutes, and I was worried about missing the start of the next show. Despite "booking" for the shows, there seemed no record of it at the first location, and we were told "first come, first served." With this in mind, we opted to walk. It started to sprinkle, then rain, then pour. It wouldn't have been so bad except for the shows were inside in air conditioned buildings. Oh well, we made it to the next place in good time. This show was called "The Road to Bolero" and was a story about the "Little Orchestra" performing their opening night of Maurice Revel's Bolero. Eris was able to follow the story, laughing at all the appropriate times. She later declared this her favorite performance. Hollis was sitting on Philip's lap, and she was watching a completely different story unfold. She told Philip that the lion was having trouble. He asked her to point out the lion next time it was up, and she pointed out the flute playing puppet saying, "There's the lion!"
We then went to try to find something to eat. We had speculated that the carnival organizers would have arranged for food vendors to be around Sanam Luang, the huge lawn by the Palace and where an outdoor stage was set up. The place was nearly deserted. We asked the girls if they would like to find a restaurant for a "real supper" or to look for a snack and go to another show. They all agreed, "snack and another show!" Hollis was really hoping to find ice cream, but all we found were Thai hot dogs at a stand outside the park.
The last show of the night was a rendition of Peru's Andean Ritual Scissors Dance done by a single performer. It began with cut out puppets of alpacas and eagles and then proceeded with a serious of puppets performing the dance. First flat cut out puppets maneuvered with sticks behind demonstrated the dance. This was followed by two hand puppets upside down from traditional puppets, so fingers could be used for legs. A whimsical six-inch marionette danced on the audience's hands and heads; next a three foot high marionette danced around the entire stage. While Philip would have preferred a more traditional set up where the puppeteer was hidden behind a curtain, but I did enjoy seeing the manipulations of the puppet as his legs kicked and his body leapt. At the climax, the puppeteer dressed himself in the traditional dancer regalia and performed his own dance. It's difficult to describe the kicking, somersaulting, and jumping across the stage all while clacking a pair of unjoined scissors as castanets. Both Meriel and Hollis chose show as their favorite. Meriel was particularly impressing, recognizing it would be difficult to learn all the different moves in the dance.
After getting our exhausted children tucked in, Philip noted, "Think of the difference between this afternoon and evening from the one which would have been if we had stayed home." Rich experiences for our children come at a cost: the risk of it not being worth it, time on buses in traffic, late bedtimes, less than ideal meals. Now I wouldn't want to do this sort of thing every day, but this evening with at the Puppet Carnival was worth it; it will be a memorable event for awhile yet.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Flexible Meals
Last week, I made tortillas for supper. I usually use my huge iron pan over a high powered gas cookstove for this. After the first round of tortillas was partially cooked, the little gas tank for this stove was out. No matter, I finished the tortillas on my two burner stove with my cast iron skillets. They turned out delicious, and it didn't take much longer. We were having company for the next day and with the busyness of life, I forgot about that empty gas tank. Until a few days later, as I was cooking pizza pockets (trying them for the first time), my larger gas tank went out. A lesson learned: always replace one tank as soon as it goes out. Maybe I will learn a trick for telling when one is low, but I can't order a new one until the old one is out, otherwise I'll lose whatever is left in the old tank when it is removed. For now, I will aim to have a small tank available to switch over to finish the meal.
When we lived in the United States, I had an arsenal of meals that my family all enjoyed. Many were casseroles, allowing me to clean up, take the dog and kids for a walk, or weed the garden until supper was ready right on time. During late spring through fall, I planned meals based on what we had growing in our garden and were receiving from our CSA (community supported agriculture) share. I also always had the ingredients on hand for a number of quick and easy meals for those evenings when I couldn't or just didn't want to really cook: jars of home canned spaghetti sauce and packages of noodles, homemade pesto in the freezer, tortillas and refried beans, peanut butter and jelly, to name a few.
Upon moving to Thailand, most of the ingredients for my repotoire of meals were too expensive, too hard to find, or both. Also, we do not have an oven, so the casseroles were out, although some of them have proved to be adaptable to stovetop cooking. I've gradually rebuilt my list of regular recipes and am now able to plan my weekly meal schedule with less frustration that at first. However, I found myself needinng to be more flexible with fewer readily available options.
I generally depend on the neighborhood "vegetable truck" for my chicken. I have not quite built up to buying raw chicken hanging in the local market. The smell is too strong and the sanitary conditions too questionable. I can get chicken at the indoor supermarket, but it is more expensive and I have to try to keep it reasonably cool until I can get it home on the bus. The truck is the best option, as it stops literally right outside my gate and the price is good. The problem is that I never know which days the truck will come. I've gone entire weeks, with all the vegetables sitting in my refrigerator just waiting for chicken to make complete meal. In the end, I have to scrap together a vegetarian meal with what I have.
I don't have a lot of ingredient just sitting around in my cupboards, for two main reasons. Firstly, everything I have in my house has to be lugged from the store to the bus stop and then from the bus stop to our house, usually while carrying a heavy 14 month old and trying to keep the other three children from getting run over by mopeds and taxis. Secondly, ants are really persistent and swarming here. On principle, we refuse to use any poison in our house, since we don't want our children harmed along with the insects. But ants are everywhere. I have not found a tupperware container, jar, or sealed bag that they have not been able to get into given enough time. So the key is to use up ingredients before the ants can find a way to get in. If I buy and use a bag of beans or pasta in the same week, I have yet to have it spoiled by pests. I do store some particularly vulnerable items, like sugar, in the refrigerator and others that are susceptible to weevils are in the freezer. On the whole, however, I buy ingredients by the week. This means when the chicken truck doesn't come, I don't have the range of options to improvise meals that I might otherwise have.
So last week, what did we eat for supper? First we ate the one cooked pizza pocket while it was hot, and everyone agreed it was delicious. Then I quickly put the remaining ingredients into the fridge. Philip kept three kids at home, while Meriel and I walked to a neighbor's to order a new tank. I think she said that it would be at our house in 30 minutes. It was 5:50 pm. I considered going back home and finishing making pizza pockets. They would be all ready to cook when the delivery man arrived, and since they only took about 5 minutes or so, we would have a only slight late supper. (I usually aim to have supper at 6:00 pm). I thought I would hurry on to the convenient store down the street and see what I could get there. Tesco Lotus Express is wonderful in that it sells milk, bread, and some other basic food items at the same price or less than the bigger supermarket. And it is much closer to home. However, they are chronically understocked. I never know when or how long they will be out of bread or some other Cardin "necessity." This day they had bread, cans of tuna fish, and potato chips. We had mayonnaise and homemade bread and butter pickles at home. We bought the items and rushed home. Total away time: 10 minutes. I decided to make the sandwiches, as I figured we could be eating by the time the delivery man arrived, if he was on time. Turned out to be a wise decision, as the gas tank did not arrive that day at all. I had to make a second trip to the neighbor's before I got my tanks. The pizza pockets were still delicious!
When we lived in the United States, I had an arsenal of meals that my family all enjoyed. Many were casseroles, allowing me to clean up, take the dog and kids for a walk, or weed the garden until supper was ready right on time. During late spring through fall, I planned meals based on what we had growing in our garden and were receiving from our CSA (community supported agriculture) share. I also always had the ingredients on hand for a number of quick and easy meals for those evenings when I couldn't or just didn't want to really cook: jars of home canned spaghetti sauce and packages of noodles, homemade pesto in the freezer, tortillas and refried beans, peanut butter and jelly, to name a few.
Upon moving to Thailand, most of the ingredients for my repotoire of meals were too expensive, too hard to find, or both. Also, we do not have an oven, so the casseroles were out, although some of them have proved to be adaptable to stovetop cooking. I've gradually rebuilt my list of regular recipes and am now able to plan my weekly meal schedule with less frustration that at first. However, I found myself needinng to be more flexible with fewer readily available options.
I generally depend on the neighborhood "vegetable truck" for my chicken. I have not quite built up to buying raw chicken hanging in the local market. The smell is too strong and the sanitary conditions too questionable. I can get chicken at the indoor supermarket, but it is more expensive and I have to try to keep it reasonably cool until I can get it home on the bus. The truck is the best option, as it stops literally right outside my gate and the price is good. The problem is that I never know which days the truck will come. I've gone entire weeks, with all the vegetables sitting in my refrigerator just waiting for chicken to make complete meal. In the end, I have to scrap together a vegetarian meal with what I have.
I don't have a lot of ingredient just sitting around in my cupboards, for two main reasons. Firstly, everything I have in my house has to be lugged from the store to the bus stop and then from the bus stop to our house, usually while carrying a heavy 14 month old and trying to keep the other three children from getting run over by mopeds and taxis. Secondly, ants are really persistent and swarming here. On principle, we refuse to use any poison in our house, since we don't want our children harmed along with the insects. But ants are everywhere. I have not found a tupperware container, jar, or sealed bag that they have not been able to get into given enough time. So the key is to use up ingredients before the ants can find a way to get in. If I buy and use a bag of beans or pasta in the same week, I have yet to have it spoiled by pests. I do store some particularly vulnerable items, like sugar, in the refrigerator and others that are susceptible to weevils are in the freezer. On the whole, however, I buy ingredients by the week. This means when the chicken truck doesn't come, I don't have the range of options to improvise meals that I might otherwise have.
So last week, what did we eat for supper? First we ate the one cooked pizza pocket while it was hot, and everyone agreed it was delicious. Then I quickly put the remaining ingredients into the fridge. Philip kept three kids at home, while Meriel and I walked to a neighbor's to order a new tank. I think she said that it would be at our house in 30 minutes. It was 5:50 pm. I considered going back home and finishing making pizza pockets. They would be all ready to cook when the delivery man arrived, and since they only took about 5 minutes or so, we would have a only slight late supper. (I usually aim to have supper at 6:00 pm). I thought I would hurry on to the convenient store down the street and see what I could get there. Tesco Lotus Express is wonderful in that it sells milk, bread, and some other basic food items at the same price or less than the bigger supermarket. And it is much closer to home. However, they are chronically understocked. I never know when or how long they will be out of bread or some other Cardin "necessity." This day they had bread, cans of tuna fish, and potato chips. We had mayonnaise and homemade bread and butter pickles at home. We bought the items and rushed home. Total away time: 10 minutes. I decided to make the sandwiches, as I figured we could be eating by the time the delivery man arrived, if he was on time. Turned out to be a wise decision, as the gas tank did not arrive that day at all. I had to make a second trip to the neighbor's before I got my tanks. The pizza pockets were still delicious!
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