I decided to spend my one full day in Bangkok not in Bangkok. Instead of the hustle and bustle of the city, I wanted to explore the old ruins in Ayutthaya, about 70 kilometers north of Bangkok. For anyone interested in history, I would really recommend a visit here. It was beautiful and interesting and surprisingly diverse. The tuk-tuk driver took us to a variety of different wats, ruins, and Buddha images. I got some great shots here, and it was a comparably calming, spiritual experience over the crowded streets of Bangkok.

The last week at the Ban Tha Ding Dang School was lovely, but there were many loose ends when I left. This wasn't entirely my fault or anyone's fault, as you will see. On Wednesday, I was in the middle of my second class of the day, when I glanced out the door to see one of the students from the 6th grade class being carried out of the classroom by a group of women. Sommai had mentioned that someone had been ill yesterday, and I was worried that this same
girl might have become sick again.

Then during my next class, I saw the 5th and 6th grade classes, which take place across the soccer field in a different building, run outside and to the road. There was a large group of people gathering, and my students in the 2nd grade class rushed outside to see. After a few minutes, I started to usher them back inside to their work, but then the first grade teacher motioned for them to come. I took this as an indication that something major was happening, and walked over to ask. The first grade teacher said that she did not know what was going on. I was confused, but it was clear that there were no classes going on so I let my class go. I took the opportunity to go back to my house and wash my face and hands thoroughly--my first class had been grade 6!

After lunch, the headmaster told me that there would be no students this afternoon. He explained that five students in the 6th grade class and one in the 5th grade class had become ill, and the villagers believed that there was a ghost in the school. Sommai was at a meeting that day, but when he came home I asked if the students would be back the next day. He said that he didn't know. This had happened once before more than ten years ago.

The next morning I woke up at 6:30 to an eerie quiet. The usual morning sounds of people talking along the road, music playing, and children laughing were nonexistent. Even the roosters seemed hushed, although not silent. No students came to school on Thursday or Friday, and apparently the villagers were going to bring in someone to get rid of the ghost on Friday afternoon. I left before he/she arrived, however, and without saying goodbye to any of my students or two of the teachers. My departure from the Ecole in Switzerland was quite similar. I guess I don't have much luck with goodbyes.

Above are some photos from the last week.

The view of the Khao Sok National Park on the way to the dam.

During the last two weeks in Thailand, the internet decided to go down at my school. Sorry for the lack of updates. But now I am in the Taipei airport with WiFi and a laptop, so I'll try to make up for lost time. My flight leaves at 10:20 pm on Monday and it arrives in San Francisco at 7:30 pm on Monday. Time changes are mind boggling, aren't they.

The first weekend after I got back from Krabi, Sommai took me to the Surat Thani dam. Created 19 years ago, this dam was soon incorporated into the national park. The limestone cliffs are about 3 times as high as the ones in Phang Nga and the surrounding jungle is dense. One of the best things about this place is that I left the tourists behind. Here was a little secret of Thailand.

We took a longboat to the far end of the lake and stayed in some floating huts. After we arrived, Sommai asked me if I wanted to take the canoe out, and I readily accepted. He looked surprised at my enthusiasm, and asked me if I knew how to paddle. I laughed at him: "I'm from Vermont, silly! Of course I can paddle!" He then informed me that I could paddle him arround, since he did not know how to. I offered to teach him, but he refused, protesting that he was too lazy. So I paddled him around the lake a little bit before dinner. And it worked out quite nicely because Thai people have a much better eye for wildlife than I do. He quickly spotted monkeys in the trees that I never would have seen.

The sounds of the jungle were my lullaby that night. Although I certainly didn't see any, apparently the owner of the huts has been having trouble with tigers eating his chickens. When I woke up in the morning to the creaking of the huts, I imagined that a tiger was walking along the wooden bridge, slowly looking in each hut for a morsel to devour. It was only the wind, of course, but it was kind of fun to let my imagination go crazy for a bit.

The next day the owner of the huts took us on a longboat tour of the lake. It was a gorgeous ride, and I was glad that this tour came at the end of my travels. The mountains and wildlife elsewhere would have been pale in comparison. As we headed back to the pier, ominous looking clouds approached us on three sides. (How is this possible, my scientific family?!) I was sure we would not beat the storms, but we made bets as to which one would reach us first. In the end, it was hard to tell through the downpour. But I didn't mind--I love the warm rain here that comes in exiting waves but is warm and lets up shortly.

On our way home, we were just in time to catch the sunset at my favorite restaurant--The Top of the Tree Restaurant that hangs over the ocean cliffs and is nestled in the Khao Lak National Park.

It's high time I post some photos of the reason I came here in the first place--the children!

The weekend in Krabi was quite eventful and lovely. It was the first time during this trip that I have gotten the chance to explore Thailand on my own--which means I get to call the shots. I've only got a few more minutes in this internet cafe before Sommai will finish playing badmitten and pick me up. So, while I have the fast internet connection, here is a photo preview of my weekend. Stay tuned for an updated post with my commentary.

The people you meet when you travel by yourself! Before I write my entry all about the packed weekend I experienced, I must first put down the story of my Saturday night with possibly the, for lack of a better word, craziest man I've ever had a long conversation with. It started out quite normally. I had come back from a busy Saturday of sightseeing and entered an internet cafe. While I attempted, and failed, to use the internet, an American walked in and started telling the Thai worker, an obvious friend, about the latest news about his missing ATM card. When I told the Thai worker that the internet was not working, the American struck up a conversation and asked if I would like to get a cup of coffee. I accepted, since I had no other plan for the evening, and it's always nice to talk to a native English speaker.

We set off for the cafe, and I learned that he was from Santa Cruz and had been stuck in Krabi for 4 weeks now because his bank refused to send him another ATM card. I asked him to tell me the story about how he lost it, and then he really started talking. Although I was quite clear- headed and I could understand every single word he said, I found myself entirely lost. His sentences didn't seem to connect, somehow, and I just kept hearing random interesting words and phrases. He would be talking about a woman that he was in love with and then suddenly start discussing astrology. He asked me early on what my sign was, and then proceeded to tell me all about myself. Some of it included details that I had already told him about myself. But he also said that I had a younger brother. I told him that I didn't, and he looked at me genuinely surprised and concerned, "Well, where is he then?" This was I realized that he was not playing around. He was quite serious that a white cat had played a large role in my childhood and that my mother was greatly jealous of my father's love for me.

Despite the unbelievable statements that he made, some pieces of interesting information did come out of his mouth. He was clearly a very educated man, and--if you believe all that he told me, which I tend to do--he came from a very well-to-do, intellectual family and went to Harvard before dropping out. The rest of his life came out in patches. He became very religious, and started going on religious journeys and vision quests, etc. Then it came out that he has a 12-year-old son who lives in Sweden. Tragedy was certainly a big player in his life, and he confessed that the love of his life died a year ago with his child. The conversation was quite fascinating in the randomness of its course and the diversity of its content.

And I haven't even started telling of his out-of-this-world experiences! Oh, yes, he has been abducted. But he would rather like to call them "family" rather than "aliens," because their purposes were peaceful. They take people from the world in order to remind them of their humanity, which I thought was quite ironic but also deep. He could write a very interesting book someday, but he'd need someone to tie the ideas together a bit.

In the end, I really did not know what to make of him. At first I passed him off as just a strung- out, druggie, but he later told me that he didn't do drugs. Perhaps the amount of pain in his life loosened something in his brain. I don't know, but I nursed his fantasies until about 11 pm, when I finally offered to walk him to the Buddhist temple where he was staying. I must admit that I really enjoyed talking with him. He was open and natural, if a little unstable. But, after spending 4 weeks with a person who is rigidly and artificially stable, it was refreshing to talk with someone who delighted in every ridiculous topic I brought up. His freedom of expression made me feel comfortable verbalizing any absurd statement that came to me. It's not often that you meet someone like that.

Now that I am the only volunteer here at the school, I find my life to be eternally wonderful. Not that Kara was a horrible person, but it's really hard to eat, sleep (in the same room), live, and work with the same person. And since the situation was unnavoidable, I drew myself in, stepped and spoke tentatively--trying to make peace last somehow. I didn't realize how much I had contained myself until now, when I can actually act like my happy self. The weekend served to cleanse me, and I think Sommai will be surprised to experience a very different Erin for the next two weeks--the real Erin, which is a lot more interesting (I like to think).

Some classic examples of Sommai's easy-going way with life:

Sunday night Sommai picked us up from our resort in Khao Lak to take us home. On the way up the curvy, mountain road, we had a close call with a bus. The lines on the road in Thailand are clearly "suggested," and the bus had moved entirely into our lane to pass a truck/motorbike. I don't know how, but somehow Sommai sensed the bus around the bend and moved into the break-down lane. Kara and I gasped in horror, but Sommai didn't even flinch. We made a few exlamations that he probably didn't understand, but his only comment was, "You know fun park? Just like here. But we don't have to pay!"

Then last night on the way home from dinner, in the dark, we saw a motorbiker who did not have any lights--NO lights! After listening to Kara and I comment about how crazy the driver was, Sommai stated, "No, he is more clever. We need lights. He does not need. He sees in the dark. Very clever. Like a bat."

Oh, Sommai, if only we all could see life in such an optimistic light!

My life in Thailand is rough, eh? In all truth, I came to Thailand to get out of my comfort zone, but I'll be the first to admit that I feel quite at home. I must attribute much of my happiness to my caretaker teacher, Sommai. From the first day he was a vigilant protector. As is typical of Thai people, he is extremely sensitive to our needs. (On Friday, a seven-year-old brought me a chair when she saw me kneeling by the desk of another student. When can I brag that my 15-year-old, American students are that considerate!) When we are eating, I can feel Sommai watching as I eat my food, and it is not uncommon for him to put a few more pieces of meat on my plate if he thinks I haven't had enough.

Although his watchfulness can sometimes be too much, he makes it feel familial with his humor. It's no wonder that Thai folk are known to smile often--they have a fabulous sense of humor! By the second day he was teasing me like an uncle would. On Monday, when I got up 15 minutes later than usual, he looked up at me and said, "Good afternoon!" When we pass a hose that is shooting water up in the air, he'll smile at us devilishly and say, "Look! Geyser!" Sometimes I don't even realize that he is joking until later. One time I asked Sommai what the green pots on the side of the road were. He told me that people use them to boil chickens. I didn't even question his statement until I started seeing the green pots were full of trash. . . I guess he thought my question was pretty silly and gave me an equally ridiculous answer.

Kara and I wondered for the first week whether this single, 47-year-old man was seeing anyone, and at this point we don't think it's a possibility. He spends all of his time at school or with us! I felt badly for him at first--how can he really be satisfied when his life is entirely devoted to school (where, even he admits, he is simply a disciplinary figure for the TV-watching students) and the myriad volunteers who ask him silly questions about Thailand. But, after three weeks of living with him, I think he is a happy man. In the morning, he is always doing little household chores while whistling or even singing outloud. It's such a heart-warming sound to hear. He lives a quite simple life, and he takes a great deal of joy from it. . . a lot more joy than many people who are overloaded with people, things, and responisibilities.

I came to Thailand to try to help the people in a 3rd world country, but who am I to teach these people how to live? They are happy! What more could they want; what more can I give them? I almost feel like I am tainting their lives by bringing in my iPod, laptop, and digital camera. I almost want to keep them a secret, hide them away. They don't need these things, these desires to clutter up their lives.