Jungle Trek: Part II

We continued along the new found path for awhile, happily noting markers on trees, cut branches, and such signs of human presence. It seemed that every time it would start to become faint, we would find another educational sign to confirm our way. A few times, it would branch, and Grandpa or Philip would venture ahead to determine the correct way. In this manner, we made slow but steady progress. We really had no way of know how far we had traveled or how long we had yet to go. By the sun and Grandpa's, we could tell that we were heading in the generally correct direction of west. The girls were all troopers. Even Hollis walked nearly the whole way, with some rests in Daddy's arms and some patches with Mommy lifting her over logs and high tangled roots.

It really was a rough trail. Very little effort had been made to maintain it. We scrambled over logs, under thorny branches, around tree roots, across muddle trickles of water. We noted that it would have been impassable in rainy season. It was not too difficult for abilities, however, and would have been thoroughly enjoyable had the trail been clearly marked and distances noted. As it was, we were continually in doubt as to the trail we were on and distance traveled. While we were on another stretch of clear trail, we met a couple of hikers from Finland. They had come from the same direction we had and had decided to turn around and head back, since they did not know how much longer it was to Ton Sai Falls. They had been hiking about half the time we had, being young and unburdened with four small children. I wondered if maybe we should turn back, but we were hot on the trail and figured that we could make better time than we had been on a trail as distinct as it currently appeared.

We threaded through a brake of tall bamboo and gazed at a large marginally helpful sign posted to a tree. An arrow pointed one way toward Bang Pae Falls and another arrow the opposite direction toward Ton Sai Falls. That was it; no distances, no map, no further elucidation. As the onward trail was still easily recognizable, we continued on our way. We heard water running and wondered if it was the falls. It was merely a stream, which we splashed across, mostly managing to stay on rocks. At this point, I realized that we had gradually been descending and now we started to climb again. At the top of this ridge, the trail swiftly became faint and split three ways. We were dismayed. For some reason, we had begun to feel that the trail was going to remain clear all the way to Ton Sai and that we were going to succeed in our goal. Now it suddenly became extremely like that we would have to trudge all the way back.

Philip and Grandpa did their customary reconnaissance runs but none of them proved fruitful. The most promising trail, across the ridge, stopped abruptly at a huge windfall. The others gradually became fainter to the point where it would be guesswork to follow them. Up to this point, our educated guess as to the direction of the trail had been fairly quickly backed up by another form of confirmation. However, none of the options seemed promising and we risked running into another questionable spot further on. It was apparent that the trail was not going to easily lead us to our destination. We knew that if we turned around now, we should have enough time to get back before dark fell and that we had gathered enough mental markers to find our way. Crestfallen, we made the intelligent decision to return the way we had come.

A challenging hike is fun the first time, especially when you are anticipating a new and beautiful destination. It is not so fun to have to traverse the same difficult terrain in reverse only to end up where you have begun. Yet we all did so cheerfully. Eris was excellent at pointing out plants, turns, and tricky spots we had noticed before to confirm our way. Meriel doggedly continuing on her own two feet, only getting a piggy-back ride from Daddy for a short way. Hollis navigated some tricky patches, with Mommy swing her up steps her short legs couldn't reach. Grandma helped make sure Simeon's head didn't get smacked or poked when I ducked under briars. I certainly recalled the part when I had to squat and waddle like a duck under a whole stand of fallen bamboo canes. It was not rewarding to repeat.

Grandpa led the way, and the rest of us followed willingly. We did try to make a point to look around and confirm that we remembered various parts, as we certainly did not want to end up lost. We found the place where we had scrabble down the slope to join the trail that was "so clearly marked!" It was not to easily to scramble up, especially due to the lack of unprickly branches to grasp. We all made it without event, then all of a sudden Grandpa said he didn't recognize where we were. We looked around and thought that we remembered a particular grouping of narrow trunks or an unusual twist of a branch, but we couldn't be sure that it didn't just look eerily familiar as the whole jungle started to look alike. Now the whole hike there and back, I had been praying for wisdom and safety. But now, I think, we all prayed more earnestly. Despite our precautions, had we managed to get lost after all? It was trending toward late afternoon, when snakes become more active. I prayed that God would keep all snakes away from us; I didn't even want to encounter a non-venomous one.

Grandpa crashed through the jungle from a different angle and recovered the trail. He had merely missed the turn off by a few feet and had very quickly discovered his mistake but hadn't quite been able to find the right way without a different viewpoint. Sending up prayers of gratitude, we followed with renewed vigor. It didn't take us long to reach our picnic spot and from then on we were certain of the way out. Along the way, Philip had caught a spot where he had cellphone service and called our van driver to return to Bang Pae to meet us. When we asked Philip if he thought the driver had understood, he said that he understood enough to chuckle!

When we reached Bang Pae Falls, the girls were too weary to even ask if they could swim. We wished we could have rewarded their perseverance with a swim but felt that we needed to get back to our driver. Once we arrived at civilization, I was happy to let Simeon off my back to get down and run. He had plenty of energy. Hollis also found some renewed reserves and started running around. Our driver was indeed waiting for us, as was a kind woman living in the park with her daughter to run a little food shop. She explained that she had seen us go in and had waited for us to come back. She did not know whether we had made it to the other side or were still wandering in the jungle. Six hours later, she greeted us welcome relief. She doled out a bunch of bananas to the kids and provided us with plenty of water. She also brought out a bag of clothes her daughter had outgrown to give to our girls. I was glad that our returning to our starting point had given her some peace of mind, at least.

Our trek was a success in that we got away from the crowds and touristy mess of Phuket; we enjoyed the challenge of the hike and time in nature; we did not get lost; we stayed safe. I don't think we would have been happy with a guide; he would very likely have encouraged us to turn around before we were ready, saying it was too difficult for the children and possibly told us part way through that we couldn't make it all the way because the trail was too overgrown. For some reason, the Park has decided to not maintain the trail, maybe to try to rip off people who want to hike with overpriced guides. It is really a pity, because it could be a lovely hike. As it is, there is no reason to go out of the way to visit Khao Phra National Park. In fact, Phuket itself has little to offer that isn't somewhere else in Thailand with fewer crowds and fewer hawkers. Oh well, now we know!

Jungle Trek: Part I

As with many places in Thailand, information on Khao Phra National Park on Phuket is difficult to find. I read conflicting reviews stating it was "lovely," "trashy," "well kept," "only worth going for the Gibbon Sanctuary," "crowded," "nice to get away from the crowds." I found very little specifics on the hike between the two waterfalls, Bang Pae and Ton Sai, at opposite ends of the park. One poster advised that while park officials tried to sell the services of a guide, it could be accomplished without one. I wasn't sure of the exact length or difficulty of the hike. I had explained all this to Philip and my parents, and they were game to try. Since we hadn't solidly planned this part of the trip before hand, only Philip had shoes. Grandpa had left his hiking boots in Bangkok. Meriel's one pair of sandals had broken, and Hollis had lost a sandal on the beach, so they each had a new pair of cheap sandals. We certainly did not exactly present ourselves as well prepared hikers.

Upon arrival at the National Park, we paid our entrance fee and, when asked, told the park official that we did not need a guide. Our driver stopped at the parking lot, and we all hopped out to look around. We were first going to look at the Gibbon Rehabilitation Center, so asked our driver to wait at this spot for the time being. I asked a woman to direct us to the Center, and then asked her about the hike from where we were near Bang Pae Waterfall to Ton Sai Falls. She said she had done it and it took her four hours and that we could not do it without a guide. She added that tourists get lost in the jungle every year. I thanked her and gathered the others to lead the way to the Center.

 The Rehabilitation Center wasn't much to see. It is certainly a worthy endeavor to provide a haven for gibbons who have been illegally taken from their jungle homes. The Center is home to several gibbons that are unable to successfully return to the wild for various reasons. The cages of these gibbons have paths that are open to the public. While we were visiting them, they treated us to a resounding chorus of whoops. Other cages receding into the jungle contain animal for whom there is still home for reintroducing into the wild. Not much to see, so I was glad we had not made the trip for that single purpose.

Grandpa asked the volunteer at the Center about the hike. He said he had never done it, and looking at our motley crew, suggested against it. He advised a guide if we were set on trying. While the girls took a restroom break, Philip and Grandpa went off to see about a guide. They were still haggling when we went to look for them. They came up to us and explained that the men had wanted way too much to guide us along the trail. Basically, a group of men with nothing to do but lie around in hammocks, would rather just wait in case somebody else came along who would pay their exorbitant fee than work for less. This attitude frustrated our men, so they went with the van driver back to the entrance to see if a guide could be found there for a fair price. Unfortunately, the situation was the same. We knew that we had a fair amount of experience hiking, carrying young children, plenty of water and snacks. We decided to just try the hike and see if it was really as treacherous as people led us to believe. After gathering out bags, settling Simeon in the carrier on my back, and instructing our van driver to meet us at the other side, we set off.

The 300 meter hike to Bang Pae falls was paved and quite simple. At this time of year, during the dry season, the fall was certainly not spectacular and the pool below small and muddy. We took a brief look and then continued on our way. We hoped to be able to swim at the Ton Sai Falls at the other end of our hike. The first part of the trail was easy to follow, no signs but neither did we see any forks or questionable side paths. It climbed fairly steeply but steps had been craved and we could readily grasp many roots and branches. We did learned fairly quickly about the many thorned plant species. Eris was our spotter and would call back to us to beware of various branches hanging out over the path. The girls were all clamoring for lunch, so once we reached a clear spot at the top of the ridge, we perched a flat rock and a log to eat.

This was the first point in the trail we noticed a fork, and there was no marker to direct us how to proceed. Philip and Grandpa explored both paths while we ate. Independently, they came to the same conclusion to take the path that led up and west. It seemed more used, led the correct direction, and had some plant fronds tied in knots as some sort of marker. Fed and watered, we continued on this trail, noting some markers on tree for the Gibbon Rehabilitation Project. We took these as signs that we were on the right path. We came to gibbon training cage, which we assumed was a chance to gibbons to live away from human assistance but still in the protection of a fenced area to see how they would fare. From here, the path was more difficult to ascertain. We glibly started toward the creek but that trail petered out. Philip gingerly removed a spider's web, careful to not enrage the huge spider in the center, which he thought might have been blocking the path. He went on up the creek bed for awhile but did not recover a path. Grandpa took another direction and Philip yet a third while the rest of us waited by the gibbon cage.

When no clear track could be discovered by our trailblazers, we agreed that we should head back the way we had come. We thought we must have followed the trail that merely led to this practice cage and not to the Ton Sai Falls. We couldn't imagine where the start of the correct trail could have been, however. We were disappointed but did not want to wander aimlessly and foolishly in the jungle. As we were carefully picking our way back, Grandpa noticed a sign on a tree down a small scree. He called for us to wait while he explored the trail he found at the bottom. He soon shouted back to us that this was the path; it was clear and easy to follow. With various degrees of sliding on our feet and bottoms, we all made it to the bottom of the slope and noted the sign on the tree depicting genus and species. Surely such a sign was meant to be seen by tourist and, thus, we must have recovered the trail.

Grandpa admitted that he had considered not telling us about the sign and merely continuing on back to our starting point. He felt that he could not be dishonest with us, though, and we were all in high spirits to think that we could persist on our adventure. It wasn't long after this that we saw an educational sign on second growth forest, another confirmation that we were on the correct path.

To be continued...

Sunrise Swim

We hadn't had all our plans set before we left Bangkok, but I had read up on some nature activities to do in the area. Philip had wanted to do some hiking, and I had a place in mind. We hired a van and driver for the day for 1,600 baht. We planned to have him drive us by the central bus station in the afternoon to get tickets back to Bangkok. Since we might be leaving Friday morning, my dad and I wanted to have a chance for a swim. Scuba diving is not the swam as just swimming at the beach. We got up early on Thursday morning and headed out to the cool, uncrowded beach. I noted that the number of people on the beach was much fewer than it would be in a few hours, although it would still be considered a "crowded" day at the beach on the Oregon Coast.

We waded in the refreshing water in the soft early morning light. Looking past the unsightly jumble of building along the beach front, I could catch a glimpse of the island before it became one giant tourist trap. The steep hillsides are covered with small trees and craggy outcroppings, nearly impossible for developers to built upon. Sunlight seeped out from behind the mountain but no distinct rays were visible yet. We dipped ourselves all the way under water and began to swim out.

We chatted as we tread water. I watched the sun start to peek over the mountain. Fingers of light reached up first, highlighting the peaks and leaving the crags in shadow. The the firey ball began to appear, a slight half dome. I could detect no movement as it slipped up; just everytime I blinked, I could see a sliver more. The sky was too clear for any spectacular color display, allowing for the pure sunrise to be austere and resplendent at once. Once the sun had cleared the ridge, I went back to my swimming. Before long, it was time to head back to get ready for the day. Refreshed, we were ready for a jungle hike.

God's Handiwork: Phang Nga Bay

The day after our scuba diving trip, we had scheduled a boat trip around Phang Nga Bay with John Gray's Sea Canoe tours. We were to be picked up by van at 10:40 am. We were awake, breakfasted, slathered with sunscreen, dressed, and ready downstairs with four children, two car seats, two travel vest restraints, and packed bags by 10:35. The van arrived right on time; the driver couldn't make it down the street crowded with food stalls, parked mopeds, and pedestrians, so we carried all our supplies to the van. The driver and the one other passenger were kind and patient while we buckled everyone in. Every seat had a working seat belt, and the driver was courteous and calm. We traveled to the northeast portion of the island, down a narrow road lined with rickety wooden houses on stilts, and arrived at the Phang Nga Bay marina.

Two boat loads of people gathered at benches by a small tourist shop. We were told that water and tea would be provided on the boat but that now was the time to buy soda or alcohol if we desired. We divided into our respective groups then walked down to the long pier. A few song-thaew drove us to the end of the pier where we walked down the gangplank to board the boat. About 40 of us settled down along the seat on the second deck to enjoy the views and breeze. We were treated to many scenic vistas as our boat made its way to our first stop.

 Any boat trip around Phang Nga Bay reveals many striking tower karst, magnificent pillars of rock, dominating the seascape of gentle waves. Any geographical feature of limestone which experiences attrition over time is known as karst. The particular attributes of the wind and water of the area determine shape of the karst. The tropical climate of Thailand and the monsoon seasons have developed the towers as well as many curious islands with "hong" which is Thai for room. Caves form on the outside of a small island, working their way under the main rock to finally create an area open to the sky but completely enclosed by rock.

We divided into pairs with each assigned a guide. The guides paddled us around on inflatable sea kayaks, exploring caves and hong. As we had forgotten to bring Simeon's life jacket and none of the ones available were even close to fitting, we took turns staying on the big boat with him. Grandpa partnered with Hollis, Eris went with Grandma, and Meriel road with Daddy. They went through a cave path that was just the beginnings of water wearing at the limestone. The guides had headlamps and everyone had to lay down to safely sail through the cave. Simeon and I got to watch the trail of kayaks from the boat as we trolled along from one inlet of the island to another.

It was fun to have some time with just Simeon. We explored the boat, climbed on the roof deck, peeked in the galley, and charmed the small crew (Simeon did this, not me). We had the best views of sea eagles soaring in the brilliant blue sky and egrets picking around the cliff edges of the island. When the girls returned, they told us that they had seen a monkey, lots of crabs, colorful soft coral, and mudskippers - fish that live on land. The next island we visited, I got to go out on a kayak with Hollis and guide Tiger. The three guides paddled to keep our family together. Light filtered down through mahogany leaves of the trees clinging to the sides of the hong. The air was cool, the waves calm, so separate from the glare and swell of the open bay.

I had the chance to see all the creatures the girls had seen on the other trip except for a monkey. Fiddler crabs waved their huge claws as they scurried all over the mudflats. Smaller crabs with intricate designs on their shells in bright greens, reds, and blues poked out from the craggy sides of the island, blending in with the similarly colored soft coral. We returned to the boat to drop Tiger off, and Hollis and I got to paddle around on our own. After exploring a bit, we drifted back toward the boat where Simeon peered out over the upper deck with Grandma holding on to him. We were spotted, so I had to wind up our carefree splashing and return to him.

After supper, the guides helped each pair make a kratong. Loi Kratong is a Thai holiday that takes place in November, celebrating light. Traditionally, Thais make a kratong out of a slice of banana tree trunk decorated with banana leaves and flowers. Candles and incense are lit before floating the kratong in a body of water. We made a kratong out of bread and banana leaves and flowers from our yard for the holiday. However, since most tourists aren't here for the actual holiday, the tour shows group how to make a kratong no matter what the month. These guys make a kratong every evening, so they are very good at it. We saw many elaborate floats; they even showed us how to make little birds out of orchid buds. One of the guides made four little birds perched on a flower stem swing.

After we finished the kratong, a few passenger spotted some dolphins passing by off the stern. We all rushed back; the adults managed to catch some glimpses of the gracefully quick swimming creatures, but they were not frolicking around, so the girls couldn't tell them from the crests of the waves. We then relaxed in the bow to watch the sun set in all its brilliant orange glory behind the island of Phuket. We finished the evening with sailing our kratong in the the caves along an island; however, we did not set them free. Since this is done every evening, too many kratong would be left floating in the Sea. We splashed in the water around the edge of the kayaks to get a glimpse of reverse photosynthesis from the phytoplankton before heading back to the boat for the ride back to the marina.

Unfortunately, clouds rolled in so we didn't get to see many stars. It was a peaceful ride, though, without other boat traffic, just the sounds of the waves lapping against the hull. Hollis hopped around trying to keep herself awake, but finally even she calmed down and just enjoyed the sky and sea as we approached the harbor. We had all enjoyed God's beautiful creation!

It's a Command: Stop Being Anxious

I've been studying the book of Matthew with the girls during our morning "school time" Bible lesson. This week, I started out reading Matthew 6:24 "No one can serve two masters;.... You cannot serve God and mammon (i.e. riches, money)." This leads directly into verse 25, "For this reason I say to you, do not be (or stop being) anxious for your life, as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; nor for your body as to what you shall put on." This passage goes on to take about how God takes care of the birds and beautifully arrays the flowers and culminates in, "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

As I was reading that passage, I was impressed with the connection between not serving money and relying on the Lord for what we need. In all the sermons and studies I've heard on the only serving one master and other studies on God supplying our needs, I've never heard the two connected. Here God seemed to be saying to me that because we cannot serve two masters, we need to wholeheartedly serve Him first. We are absolutely not supposed to worry about money and how our needs are to be met. If we start focusing on providing for ourselves financially, we can so easily lose sight of where God wants us to be. Because of our tendency to do this, God commands us to completely give up that mindset. This is not to say that we should be financially irresponsible or not have a job; it just means that we need to make sure that we are following God first, even when it means letting go of our financial security.

Recently, Philip and I attended a Christian marriage seminar which focused on the various "needs" of spouses. One characteristic that a woman tends to desire in a husband is responsible leadership. I would agree with this, especially as the Bible confirms that role in the husband. However, as I looked at my handout on which I was instructed to rate my husband's leadership, I saw nothing about spiritual leadership - nothing about whether he reads the Bible daily and discusses it with me, not a word about whether he leads us in prayer. About half of the items were related to his financial provision. I was dismayed. It is not my husband's job to provide for my physical needs. Of course, he plays a major role in this, but together we trust God to provide. It is my husband's job to seek the Lord and lead our family to follow Him, and, by example, help us to "seek first His kingdom and His righteous" knowing that through this all our needs "shall be added" to us.

Those of us wives who are blessed to have husbands who fulfill this leadership role should be very thankful. We need to take care to affirm our men in this, as the world and even many in the church (as the marriage seminar demonstrates) often push them to be financially successful. They can be made to feel as though money is the most important marker of their leadership skills and that it is up to them to earn first, then figure out how to fit their spiritual role into what is left. Let's encourage them and build them up when they go against convention and do the opposite. Can you imagine what the world might look like if all Christian men, with their wives support, stepped out in faith to do what the Lord called them to do with complete disregard to finances? We'd probably all be a little poorer on this earth but oh so much spiritually richer!

As we think about what this year holds for us, much of the details are unknown. Our financial situation is precarious from year to year. We truly do not know how we will be provided for once August arrives, and if we will even be able to make ends meet until then. What we do know is that God has called our family to Bangkok for this season and that He has always provided for us in the past as we have followed Him. I am confident that my husband is leading our family in God's paths. So what do I need to do? Let God completely free me from the master of money and stop being anxious. The God who created the universe, who has complete power over life and death, who knows my heart, who died for me has promised that when I seek Him I will lack nothing. Lord, increase our faith!

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your  minds in Christ Jesus."

"And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6,7,19

In the Deep Blue Sea

I was joined in my refresher dive by David and Chrissa, a couple whose last dive had been two years ago. We donned wetsuits, connected regulators to air tanks, and made sure our equipment was in working order. Brian double checked everything and explained to us that we were going to take it slow. He showed us the route we would take on a little map. By this time, the boat anchored in a little inlet of Koh (Island) Racha Yai 19 kilometers/12 miles south of Phuket. I noted several other dive and tour boats scattered around Bungalow Bay before turning to the task at hand. I had never done a boat dive before. For all my Israeli dives, I had kitted up on the beach and walked out into the water. I wiggled into my fins, slipped by arms into my BCD and secured it, and watched carefully to see how the divers entered the water. Thumb around regulator, fingers on mask, just step right into the water.

It really was as easy at it looked. When we were all in the water, Brain gave us the okay to descend. Being underwater, breathing just as easily as on land was as awe inspiring as I remembered it. Snorkeling is just as good as diving for seeing much of underwater plant and animal life; it is cheaper and simpler, as well. However, it is quite amazing to actually be underwater, a part of the deep blue from which most humans are excluded. Compared to the rolling, splashing surface, even just slightly  underwater is surreal and calm. The sun glinting off the water suddenly becomes mellow and tranquilizing as it filters through the greenish depths. And perhaps most stunning is the quiet - no voices, no bird calls, even boat engines are muffled.

I took everything slowly. I descended slowly, holding my nose and blowing to "clear" my ears at frequent intervals. I looked around and just enjoyed being under the water. I breathed slowly and deeply. I took time experimenting with my BCD (buoyancy control device: an air chamber vest used to help a diver maintain a certain depth) to get the amount of air just right. Actually, it turned out that I still tended to float up with no air in my BCD and need extra weight. Fortunately, Brain had the extra weight to attach to me, and then I did just fine. Brain had each of us take off our masks, replace them, and do the proper maneuvers to clear the water from them. It is important to be able to do this in case a mask falls off. I had a bit of trouble remembering how to get all the water out; I kept getting water up my nose. I plugged my nose to keep the water out, taking deep breaths through my mouth and tried again. Finally, I got it figured out. I was glad that I had not panicked when breathed the water through my nose; I had been able to calmly think through what I needed to do and successfully complete the task. The other skill to practice before exploring was to toss away the regulator (breathing piece), regain it, and clear the water from it before replacing it in my mouth. The regulator remains attached to the air tank on my back the whole time, so it can't really be lost; a certain arm movement allows a diver to grasp it easily. It is important to remember how to do this and not panic if the regulator inadvertently slips out of one's mouth.

We then were able to swim around, practicing keeping at a certain depth, checking our air level, and gazing at the sea life. I quickly remembered how to breath out for an extended period of time if I wanted to descend. I could maintain my depth by breathing regularly and then take a deeper breath if I wanted to ascend a bit I seemed so natural to swim around slowly, using my breath and feet to direct myself. I continued to be somewhat clumsy, unable to change direction quickly or keep myself from bobbing into someone who swam too close to me. I started to keep my legs straighter and was able to improve somewhat.

When I climbed up the boat ladder, I was immediately very cold. I sprayed myself with warm water supplied on board, took off my wetsuit, and snuggled into the sweatshirt my dad had brought for me to use. I had not realized that I would be so cold and had not brought anything warm to Phuket, let alone on the ship. My sweatshirts have only been unpacked once since we arrived, for a night train ride to Laos last December. I was thankful that my dad was thoughtful enough to have brought an extra of his for me to use.

On the second dive, my dive group and my dad's dive group went together so we could be buddies. We dove at the same spot. A long train of us followed Divemaster Tanny with bunny ears on her hood and bright yellow fins. I enjoying being with my dad, and it was fun to finally have a chance to dive together. I know how to react to his over-protectiveness on land, but it was a little more difficult in the water. A few times, I just swam the other way so I could have a little space. (I love you, Daddy!) We were able to point things out to one another, sharing an experience without words.

We saw huge sponges wide mouths open like barrels, a giant clam opening and shutting its purplish shell in a beguiling manner. We swam among the long thin pipefish, golden striped butterfly fish, and bright-finned bannerfish. A cuttlefish shot through the group, tentacles waving, its way of moving efficient but rather comical. The bright colors of coral were splashed over rocks all along the floor. I'm pretty sure I spotted a porcupine fish freckled with black spots and tiny spines. A school of baracuda lazily drifted around us while red and blue spotted groupers. We spotted a couple of fierce looking scorpion fish skulking on the floor and swam in circles around to get a better look at an eel peering out if his hole. Sea fans waved over blue sea stars with foot long legs. Tiny bright blue and yellow nudibranchs (sea slugs) crept over rocks between sea anemones and urchins.

For the last dive, the boat circled around to another part of the island where an old boat had been sunk for a "wreck dive." My certification only allows me to dive to 18 meters/60 feet and in open water. The sea floor and wreck were deeper than this, so I contented myself with swimming over and around the top of the wreck. There were also some steel cubes near the wreck within my depth that I practiced swimming through. The sea life here was similar with more coral, nudibranchs, and even another eel. I noticed the now popular clown fish hiding in the tentacles of the anemones. I don't know the names nor can I even remember everything we saw. I focused on enjoying the experience instead of cataloging a list of creatures.

On the boat ride home, we chatted a bit. The sun warmed my legs, and I began to feel very sleepy. Most of the divers lay on mats on the upper deck or the padded benches below. I curled up on an available unpadded bench in the sun on the upper deck; next thing I knew it was time to go below to gather our stuff for departure as we entered the bay.

Arriving back at the dive shop, my dad and I headed straight for the beach to find out how the rest of the family had done. Everyone looked happy, wet, sandy, and not sunburned. It had been a great day for all of us!

On the Deep Blue Sea

The day after we arrived at Phuket, my dad had planned a trip for he and I to go scuba diving with Scuba Cat Dive Center. My dad is an avid diver, diving almost every weekend in the cold, murky waters around the jetties of Yaquina Bay on the Oregon Coast. He enjoys just getting in the water, but he also observes the marine life in their natural habitat, spear fishes for lingcod, and grabs Dungeness crabs for supper. For Philip and my first anniversary, he gave us the gift of scuba diving open water certification. We stayed in a guest house in Eilat, Israel on the Red Sea for two weeks, learning to dive in the warm water filled with beautiful sea creatures. The Red Sea happens to be the most northern location where coral grows, so we enjoyed seeing that as well. Since those initial days of diving, I had not been diving again. When my parents came to visit us, Philip and Daddy went diving together; Mom and I had a great time snorkeling with little baby in my belly. On every possible diving occasion thereafter I was either pregnant or had a young, nursing baby.

When scheduling vacation plans for my parents' trip to Thailand this time, I realized that Simeon would be 16 months old, and I would not be pregnant. I told my dad that I could finally go diving with him. We made sure that all involved knew that I had not been diving since my initial course eight-and-a-half years ago. A dive instructor was scheduled to provide me with a refresher dive and help me remember how to assemble and check my equipment. A lady from the shop gave me a little quiz to go over, encouraging me to not go beyond my comfort level. The questions on the quiz were basic and seemed mostly "common sense," so I was enheartened a bit. It had been a tiring day, but it was difficult to fall asleep; I was nervous about diving and leaving Simeon for so long, and also excited to explore underwater again.

When I awoke, I was still nervous and excited. I tried to keep Simeon asleep, but he is too used to having me next to him. I knew that he would be fine playing on the beach with Daddy, his sisters, and Grandma, but it was still a bit hard to leave him. I kissed Philip and the girls, then slipped out the door. My dad and I rode with my English instructor Brian, Ken from Rhode Island, and a few other divers in a song-thaew to the docks. The Island of Phuket has many beautiful buttes and small mountains. The flat areas are crowded with hotels, shopping centers, and tourist attractions. Many of the winding roads are busy but every so often we would take a smaller one and I would catch a brief glimpse of an unspoiled patch of island.

Once on the boat, we had a chance to eat a bit of breakfast. We were briefed about the boat: where to find water, the bathroom, etc. We were all offered some "sea sick pills." I generally to not get sea sick and do not like the side effect of drowsiness, so had already refused the offer to take one of my dad's. As we sailed out of the bay, I gazed out at the sparkling Andaman Sea. Small craggy white limestone island rose out of turquoise water. Swells began to rock the boat. I love the ocean, but to me, "beach and ocean" means the cliff lined, soft sanded beaches of the Oregon Pacific Coast with rough breakers crashing onto the shore and a cold wind whipping salt spray in my face. Here I could barely catch the salty scent that heralded so many memories, no gulls mewed, and the breeze was soft. On top of my nervous excitement, I began to get homesick.

Seasickness, like many physical ailments, has a strong psychological component. Fatigue, anxiety compounded with homesickness started to get to me. I calmed my mind, prayed, took deep breaths, and tried to relax. I knew that I was going to enjoy the dive and everything would be fine, but I somehow could not translate that into a relaxed body. My hands cramped and my stomach churned. I realized that I should swallow my pride and some anti-nausea medication. My dad had noticed my disquietude and pale face, so he was not surprised when I asked for half a tablet. I stretched my hands and took some more deep breaths. With one of the breaths, I got a whiff of clear, cool, salt air that was reminiscent of "home" which broke the cycle of apprehension. I immediately began to feel better and was ready a moment later when it was time for my dive briefing.

Look for "In the Deep Blue Sea" coming soon!

Travel to Phuket

Now my parents are back in Oregon, and we are trying to get back to our "normal routine," so I will find time to chronicle our adventures together. The Monday after my parents arrived, we traveled by airplane to Phuket, an island off the west coast of Thailand. The girls were excited to fly, although I had warned them many times it would be very different from our last flight. Meriel kept reminiscing about her personal television screen and getting to drink lots of apple juice. On this one hour and twenty minute flight, there were no television screens and juice cost extra. Despite this, the girls still enjoyed looking out the window at the clouds, ocean, and coastline.

Upon arrival, we were to have been met by the Swiss manager of Patong Rose Guest House with a van. He was not waiting for us and had not left a message on my phone. When we called him, he explained that he had been involved in a vehicle accident and could not come to meet us. When my father asked him on arrival, he said something about a car door hitting another car, so I'm not entirely sure that it precluded his coming to pick us up. We found out that he manages (foreigners can't really "own" business or property in Thailand) three guest houses and a restaurant, trying to do most of the odd jobs himself and is really stretched too thin. This situation happens fairly often here, so we took it in stride and hired a van from the airport at twice the cost. This driver was impatient as we buckled our car seats and children in. (See my previous post regarding our decisions for "safe travel.") Then off he went, stopping at a travel agency on "the way." After looking at the map on his phone, Philip was later able to figure out he had taken us way out of the way. We had already booked all our plans for the trip, so it was not a profitable stop for the agency. The driver probably got a cup of coffee and who knows what else for his trouble; he also got an extra 20-30 minutes of Simeon screaming.

The guest house was clean with smallish rooms, barely draining sinks, and a broken light in one of the bathrooms. The staff was friendly and helpful, and we probably could have done much worse for the price in the touristy area of Patong Beach. The owner/manager pretended to be surprised by the number of children we had (he had been informed previously through e-mail and a phone call) and thus deigned to be gracious by allowing two children free of charge in each room instead of the usual one per room. We just told him, "Thank you." The main feature of our trip to Phuket was scuba diving. Scuba Cat had given us the name of a guest house right near their shop and was expecting my father and I to check-in with them. We got all our stuff up the narrow flights of stairs and into the rooms and then headed to the dive shop. The staff all wanted to meet the children. After the usual hand shakes and smiles and name exchanges, we explained that we were all very hungry. Debbie at the shop recommended Sabai Sabai as a local place that was not so expensive and had good food.

Sabai Sabai did have delicious food, expensive compared to our local Bangkok restaurants, but about on par with the eateries in the area. My first meal, the garlic shrimp, was delicious. Then we took Philip, Grandma, and the kids to play on the beach while Grandpa and I went back to the dive shop to get everything set for our dives the next day. We then made the three minute trip (two minutes to walk down the street, one minute waiting for an opening in the traffic to cross the beach front street) back to the beach. Philip had told the kids that they couldn't play in the water because we hadn't gotten them ready for it. With great restraint, I managed to keep myself from even touch the sea. I knew that it would cause my children frustration and resentment, even if they did not know how to express it, if I did so. We played in the sand for a few minutes before heading off to find a local grocery store for supper, breakfast, and snacks.

To get to the Big C, we had to walk down a street line with bars. Hollis called them "special restaurants" and kept saying, "No more special restaurants!" as we passed each one. We then had to walk through a fancy mall and finally reached the grocery store. It was crowded with Russians doing the same thing we were doing. After browsing back and forth, we managed to find chips, soda, bread, milk, yogurt, cups of noodles (we had a hot pot and refrigerator in our room), oats, and fruit. It was nearly dark by the time we checked out and headed home. We saw mini song-thaew (mini pick-up trucks) outside touting themselves as tuk-tuks (everyone wants to ride a tuk-tuk; nobody has heard of a song-thaew). We decided it would be wort 60 baht to us for a ride back to our guest house. I guessed they would quote 200 baht. I was right on, so we walked back "home."

We heated water, ate our noodles, and got ready for bed. Hollis, our most adventurous, chose to sleep with Grandma and Grandpa. We missed her some, but the five of us managed to settle down and get a fairly good, if a little restless night sleep after a busy day of travel and new experiences. Good night, Phuket!

Travel Safety with Children in a Developing Country

Part of our job as parents is to keep our children safe, but we also need to let them explore, learn from mistakes, and have fun. We need to find the balance of caring for them and trusting God to do the rest. So we let our children swing, climb trees, and ride bikes (with a helmet). We let our children play in the yard even though we cannot be entirely certain that there is not a venomous snake out there. And we let our children ride in motor vehicles.

In a country where it is commonplace for a mother holding an infant to balance on the back of  a moped while the father weaves through traffic with a toddler standing between his knees, vehicle safety is an extremely foreign concept. Thailand ranks third for the world's highest traffic fatalities, the majority of which occur in Bangkok among children and moped drivers. Philip and I are often have to evaluate what kind of transportation would be the safest for us to use to get from one place to another. In general, we have decided that public transportation offers the most responsible option. The skytrain has not had any major accidents that I am aware of since its inception in 1999, and the subway has had only one recorded accident with injuries but no deaths in its ten years of running. With their ability to travel above or below the horrible traffic of the city, these modes of transportation are definitely first choice for when we are heading somewhere that is accessible from one of the lines.

However, mass transit systems are quite a bit more expensive than our default choice, the city buses. The non-air conditioned buses can be free up to eight baht (about 30 cents); the air conditioned ones charge based on distance traveled, but is usually not more than 14 baht within the main city. The bus drivers vary widely in the safeness of their driving. Some accelerate and brake suddenly, weave in and out of traffic, and keep the doors open the whole time. We purposely try to sit away from the windshield and lower windows to a level which our children cannot fly out. The worst parts of the bus ride are the getting on and off. Bus drivers time it so that they can put the vehicle in gear and jerkily drive off the moment the last passenger's foot is on the step. I have to lift three children up the steep steps then hop on myself while carrying Simeon and try to make sure all the girls are holding on to something before they get knocked to the floor. Often other passengers and the ticket seller will help, since no one likes to see little children bounce around a bus. When we near our stop, I have to push the button and be ready at the door to dismount or the driver will often not stop. If we've had to sit in the back, it can be extremely difficult to get four small children and any bags together and to the front of the bus without anyone stumbling as the driver slams on the brake and veers to avoid rear-ending another vehicle. However, we feel that the bus option is generally safer than riding in taxi where the driver often behaves similarly, and we are without the benefit of tons of metal between us and another vehicle if involved in a collision.

Taxis might be a a more viable option if the drivers were considerate and they had working seat belts. We've only taken about seven taxis since we've been here but only one has had working seat belts. Philip commended the driver greatly on this. Also, to be really safe, we'd have to use car seats for our children. Any one who has tried to lug a car seat with them on a trip knows how difficult this is; can you imagine trying to drag four car seats around a congested city? We have hired a driver with a van and used our car seats on a few trips where we knew we would have a place to store the car seats on the other end or could leave them in the van.

Recently, I heard of a new product called the Ride Safer Travel Vest. It is similar to a lightweight life jacket and has passed all United States Federal safety standards for a child restraint system. After weighing and measuring the girls, I discovered that it would be awhile before Hollis could use one, even though the lower age limit is three. Meriel fit a small and Eris the large. I ordered them for my parents to bring. While my parents were here, we did some traveling which would have previously required us to debate whether or not it was worth the hassle of bring four car seats/boosters. We were able to chose to bring two car seats for the younger one and safely buckle Eris and Meriel in with their vests. These vests could then be put in the checked luggage for a plane ride, easily stored in a small hotel room, and carried by the girls as necessary.

As I mentioned earlier, the idea of travel safety is unknown here. When we checked our two car seats for the plane, one lady asked another what they were. Drivers are at first bemused when they see us carrying strange looking child seats and then annoyed as their precious time is spent as we struggle to secure the seats in as tightly as possible with disused seat belts and absence of LATCH components. The vests could be put on the girls beforehand and were more easily positioned with the seat belts, reducing the waiting and grumbling of the drivers.

Although none of the drivers mentioned it, I feel quite certain that at least some of them thought that I was a terrible mother for strapping my child into the car seat and letting him scream. As Simeon has only ridden in a car seat a handful of times, he is not used to it and could not understand what was happening. This is bad enough when my husband or I is driving but so much worse when the driver does not understand the reason for the seat in the first place and has to endure up to an hour of incessant screaming. I could not explain to him that if I did not truly believe that the device could safe my child's life, I would have him out of it and in my arms in a moment.

We feel we have found a reasonable balance that allows us to get around as we need. How we have chosen to do things is not the "right" way. Each parent needs to follow his/her own convictions as to how to keep their children safe. We use the information and resources we have available to us and leave the rest up to God.