How to Plow

As the few westerners in a close-knit valley, we are often invited to participate in ceremonies and events that have nothing to do with our work here.  This week, for example, we attended an event dedicated to encouraging local farmers to use buffalo instead of tractors to till their rice fields (the issue is that, while using a tractor saves a lot of time, the profit from rice isn't enough to cover the expensive costs of rent and gas. Farmers do it all the time even though it makes no economic sense).

So this is how I found myself pushing a plow behind a buffalo, along with my colleagues and a brave state senator, to show how wonderful this method is.  No doubt my technique wowed the locals and will revolutionize Thai agriculture as we know it.  This is going on my resume:

I started plowing in borrowed boots, but they were too big, so if you look closely you can see that I went barefoot, as many farmers do (when in Rome).  The flowered necklace was a gift as part of the ceremony, and it smelled amazing.

Buffalo cooling off in the mud.

"Organic fertilizer" on our feet after plowing.  Conjure this image the next time you eat some tasty rice!

First day in the field

"Field work" has begun.  We have spent a month creating a questionnaire to survey those with disabilities, and we began conducting interviews this past weekend.  I guess that means I should tell you what it is I am doing here... 

As a bit of background, I am in a very rural area (if you couldn't tell by the bug video!), where many families have no income and have never attended school. They feed their families with what they can farm from the land, so having a family member born with a disability that requires attention or removes a member from the workforce, is devastating.  With no other option, some disabled are left to languish at home alone, or are abandoned to older relatives. Those who are more able-bodied try to find work, but either don't receive it for simple discrimination, or must work for less.

Further complicating their situation is the fact that those in Northern Thailand receive less support, representation and general attention from the central government, simply because of their background (lots don't even have Thai citizenship yet). 

So what are we hoping to do? Warm Heart is hoping to build a program through which those who are disabled can be given a chance. They may be taught a craft or skill, and provided with an accommodating workplace and transportation, and help selling their craft. The program would be supported by a portion of their wages. My role is to manage the research collection process: to find out what population we are dealing with, what their capabilities are, what they want and what they can do.  Because the government has no services available for those with disabilities, there is no data on the books.  We are here to collect it.

This process of interviewing the disabled, to say the least, is humbling. We have met farmers who are partially lame, missing limbs or are blind. But they work twice as hard to produce as much as their able-bodied neighbors.  This project is close to my heart not only because it addresses a major public health need, but because both of my grandfathers had disabilities from a young age that are very similar to the most common ailments here. One had no use of his right arm from birth, but became a successful lawyer (and avid chess player and golfer) and the other was blind in one eye, but served in the US military stateside during WWII, and went on to become a business owner and public servant. They inspired, mentored and intimidated us grandkids with their no-excuse attitude, and I see their spirit in these people every day.

I will continue to keep you posted on our progress. Here are a few photos from our first day in the field on Saturday.

Interviewing a 12-year-old with developmental and physical disabilities. His family is showing off his good grades in school.

P.S. it should be noted that the Lanna people (northern Thai) and hill tribes are by nature indescribably hospitable, kind and love to laugh, so it has been incredibly fun to conduct these interviews. And because a few westerners tend to be a spectacle, the entire village gathers 'round to take stare as we collect data... we are at the least a source for entertainment! 

Lisu women in traditional dress.

Interviewing a man whose botched spinal surgery left him unable to walk (and farm).

Warm Heart team takes a lunch break! (I passed on the grilled liver P'John is about to bite into)

Computer problems

I apologize the lack of updates lately, especially lack of photo and video. I have been having computer problems, and the motherboard finally went. So it may be a while, but I'll get photos, video and stories from Thailand and Cambodia on here ASAP.  Travels, nature, Angkor Wat at sunrise, traditional Cambodian dance... they are trapped in hardware for the moment, but I can't wait to share with all of you!

You know you're hitting the wall on living rural Thai life when...

You are looking forward to a few days in CAMBODIA so as to have modern amenities, air conditioning and fewer bugs at night.

Rain

It's raining. Again. Storms like these make me wish we had walls on all four sides of our office.

Views in the Valley

I am starting my second week of work with Warm Heart, of living in this beautiful rural place and getting to know my neighbors.  Nature's power is not lost on anyone who lives here, many of whom eat or starve by the rain, and work endless hours under the beating sun. The geography and weather of the place had an immediate impact on me, and continue to leave different impressions on me each and every day.

I have never seen anything like it: we are in a flat valley that runs into cool blue mountains on all sides. Rice fields and lam-yai trees cover the land like wall-to-wall carpeting, and when one looks out, you can truly see everything - a diorama of village life, with clouds bobbing about, oxen moving and people coming and going.  It is on my commute to and from work that I get to know these scenes.  I ride my early-90s model Honda Dream motorbike to the "office," which takes 30 minutes each way.  In the morning, the sun has risen and the sky is clear and still, but it is still cool. It is my favorite time to ride.

Throughout the day the sky slowly comes to life. Mini-stormsystems develop across the valley and move around in a game of high altitude musical chairs. Some stop to leave the blessing of water for a section of fields, and other times they only tease the farmers with gusts of wind and their promising damp chill before dissipating as if they changed their minds.

On the way home at 5:30 pm, the sun is setting behind the western ridge, and the "rainy season" makes itself known. The clouds seem to have reached critical mass so they cannot help but take over the sky. Growing up, I remember a few occasions when an ominous storm would announce itself well ahead of its arrival, sending forth messengers in the form of leaves twirling in unnatural patterns, garbage cans being knocked over, and curtains being sucked violently out of their docile swaying. Here, this happens almost every day, and while it doesn't scare me as much as it once did, I try to avoid being caught out in it on my bike if I can.

But despite the gusto with which it arrives, it only storms for a short period of time, and the commute home is indescribably beautiful. As the cliques of clouds, now relieved of their weight, pass through the glen, they create dancing light patterns against the changing colors of the mountains, and the golden temples sparkle with the last rays of the day. The sky is once again quiet as everyone goes home for dinner and rest. It feels as if we are being watched, and the entire valley is being tended by an invisible hand at the end of the day

Photo credit: Warm Heart Thailand

Thai word for "ants"

I have gotten used to co-habitating with creatures of various sizes, noises and degrees of reptilian-ness (it's a word), but some things still surprise me.

The other night, I came home after dinner to find the front room of my hut being invaded by ANTS. They were a solid black mass on the wall- about 6-8 inches wide and 5-6 feet tall. The shape was so smooth and singular that I didn't see them at first, but when the column moved, I was aghast.  This video was taken after they started dispersing, but you would still agree that this is a LOT of ants:



I was worried my devout Buddhist landlord wouldn't want to kill them (especially after he started explaining to me that it would be okay because "moht" don't bite), but his wife came back with some exterminating bugspray and the business was done in a few short minutes.