I left the site that hosted the single-most well-rounded feeling of contentment I’ve experienced in I’m not sure how long sobbing almost silently into my left-hand, and with an extremely poorly executed goodbye. I forgot to tell Sirikeow, the 8 year-old girl I had befriended by slipping her mango from our dinner under the table, that I was leaving, and the primary memory I have of leaving Baan Dada is her standing behind the truck, hunched over and looking at me with complete confusion and anger. The last few days at Baan Dada she and I were scarcely apart. Despite having a mother, who albeit can’t take care of her at this junction, she says “You motha for me” and points at her self with her thumb in her shockingly deep voice. She calls me mommy which I discourage by insisting that she is MY mommy, but this does not work. One of my favorite moments of the trip was finding her asleep outside the door of my hut after I woke up for a nap. She had come up wanting to hang out and Amit and I had pretended to be asleep because we did actually want to be asleep. We thought she’d left but she never did. I spent this whole experience grappling with the complications of having short-term volunteers coming in and out of these kids lives and the appropriate dynamic for having relationships with the children, yet I made the cruelest and most poorly planned departure imaginable. I have no idea if I am overvaluing or undervaluing the weight of my departure on these kids’ lives, but needless to say I feel like crap. I miss Baan Dada unspeakably, and can’t stop thinking of myself as just another white face that has come and gone. All that aside, I can’t overstate how much fun I had, how much I want to go back, and how inspired I was by Dada to maybe one day do something similar.
I don’t feel like I’m travelling anymore. It feels like my trip ended when I left Amit in Bangkok because at every step this trip was something that we were doing together and at the point where that ceased to be true, this turns into something else. I am in Hong Kong now in this very awkward space between ‘the trip’ and whatever it is my life will be in New York, unsure if this kindof suspension between a new reality and an old one is good for cooling off or just cooking up anxiety. The trip is over though it doesn’t feel premature, or as if it flew by, but I did forget that there was anything in the world outside of Amit and I trying to figure out what we were going to do that day or the next. And now that he is not here, I am ready to go home. I hate the last blog because I always would rather be descriptive than reflective but that should do it for now; all that is left is to reflect on when the next posted date will be, and contemplate my return.
Here is something a little unusual…
The Story of My Feet:
The day after a group of Canadian volunteers from a women’s college came to Baan Dada, reminding all too much of a somehow less offensive version of the IHPer’s special brand of cultural insensitivity abroad, the remaining four volunteers (myself, amit, erin, and martin) decided we needed beer. The rule is that being a Margi institution and all, if you want to drink you can do so in town but you can’t come back to Baan Dada that night. So we stayed at a guest house in town just to have a little time off and a little Singha. Anyhow to make an already long story short, when walking back to the room, I tripped and the entire weight of my body came down on the side of my foot, and my right palm leaving a compact puddle of crying Andie on the floor for Amit to find on his way back from the bathroom. No broken bones but residual pain, bruising, stiffness and trouble walking.
Earlier that week: While walking through the goat pen to collect compost buckets and stare fondly and lovingly at the baby goats, I stepped on a piece of wood pointing up out of the ground leaving me with a puncture wound in the big toe on the same foot that would soon be all but broken. I found Amit who was still planting Tamarind trees nearby and strolled up with a flip flop full of blood.
Next injury. While back in Bangkok, and walking around Jatu Jak (biggest market in world) with Amit who could only manage to do so by keeping his cheeks clenched to prevent the explosive bowel issues he was having from forcing us to by him new clothes, a little old Thai lady in a woven fisherman’s hat pushed an extremely heavy cart full of god knows what over the same foot. More bruising. More pain. Extreme distaste for old people.
Blisters: Second to last night, Erin, the wonderful Evergreen student from Olympia, Washington who I had so much fun with at Baan Dada and who gave me my first ever layered hair cut and I went on a walk up the hill to watch the sunset in some Nike hiking shoes left by the Canadians. The rather mild blister aquired has turned into an infected, puss-oozing, cesspool, providing the foundation for another blister I acquired from borrowing Meg’s brown boots so that I could look good for an dim sum luncheon with her married, blond, British friends that was so exorbitantly expensive that it would have made Amit crap his pants even AFTER he got over the traveler’s diarrhea thing he had.
Adding insult to injury: My flip flops were “borrowed” by an unidentified child at Baan Dada never to be returned so all I had for shoes was a pair of purple Thai house shoes also left by the Canadians after two days of use that were two sizes too big, and are really wanting for arch support. Couple days on my feet, often toting my pack, and I’ve got shooting pains in my angles to compliment the shooting pains in my tarsals, metatarsals, heels and big toes. The foot injury I was nursing in Kansas City late last year, has also decided to resurface with some purple bruising. I don’t even think I need to go into detail about the state of my toenails.
The End.
Sawadee Kha and Until soon,
Andie