...when you feel like hope is gone, look inside you and be strong...

Recently, with my impending departure, there has been a strong concentration on my thesis; narrowing it down, starting the paperwork and collecting the information. Consent forms need to be signed and questions need to be structured. While situating what I have been doing, with what I am interested in, meanwhile keeping in mind what I need to do for my specific degree, I have decided upon a happy medium. Bangkok Slum Kids and an Orientation to Life Abroad. Granted, that won’t be the final title, but something along the lines of “an orientation for and designed by Mercy kids studying at United World Colleges and Universities in the States.” My main focus being: What do you wish you had known before leaving? What were the hardest adjustments? And what advice would you give kids following you? Then I will design the best possible orientation. That’s the plan at least.

I have been sitting with Father Joe for a few hours, on multiple occasions over the past week and a half or so, and the focus shifted a bit. I framed my question slightly differently for him: what do these kids need to survive? The answers have been simple, long drawn and beautiful – it is everything I have come to know on my own in the past six months, but putting thoughts and ideas into words solidifies the learning.

Mercy is first and foremost a family. Albeit a crazy one at times, but it is a place for kids to run to, it’s a place these kids call home; they are surrounded by siblings and people who care about them. The cooks are their psychologists, who encourage them to “carry on” but always lend a listening ear. The security guards are their confidants and big brothers, and most importantly they have each other, over 200 siblings.

They are a Mercy family and “they will know each other forever.” It is here the kids are encouraged to try new things, to get involved and to experience the world of their peers outside the invisible slum walls: they take piano lessons, voice lessons, dance, music, Tae-Kwon-Do, art and cooking classes. They have recitals, they attend school, they have homework tutors. It isn’t just an orphanage. “We expect a lot out of these kids and they are survivors. All these kids are survivors,” Father Joe repeated.

Survivors they are. And they have each other, which is how they keep on surviving. They are never in it alone. Their existence at Mercy has given them confidence, and they have been told it is cool to be smart. Their lives have direction, purpose and upward mobility.

Tonight I was invited to a concert put on by NIST students (a private International high school in Bangkok) and our Mercy “glee club”. A few seniors at NIST have spent their weekends with Mercy kids, working on their singing, dancing and piano playing skills. Tonight was the night it all became a reality.

When it came to the piano recital portion of the show, I watched on as my girls, Ann, Nancy and Kwan sat down to a beautiful grand piano with the spot light upon them. Having only started learning the keys just a few short months ago, their skills were phenomenal. I video taped all three performances and was moved to tears. I was so proud of them, I felt my heart beating out of my chest.

Their elegance, grace and poise reaffirmed what is so special about these girls. They are survivors, but more importantly, they are heros. They have defied the odds and won.

Their last song was a throw back to my middle school days when Mariah Carey was as popular as Taylor Swift is now. Girls crooned over this song and fantasized about being asked to dance by the popular boy when it came on at the school dance. It was tonight I realized I never fully listened to the lyrics. The Mercy girls call it their “theme song”. As they whispered the soft lyrics into the audience, all dressed in white, it made perfect sense. This is their anthem.

There's a hero
If you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid
Of what you are
There's an answer
If you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know
Will melt away

And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you

Lord knows
Dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone
Tear them away
Hold on
There will be tomorrow
In time
You'll find the way

(Hero, Mariah Carey)

How do they cope? Well, they have each other, they have hands to hold, but also, they are strong and they have dreams to hold on to.

I love these kids will all my heart.

The opening act.

Tammy on drums.

Guess what song they're singing...

"Hero" finale.

Curtain call and flowers, with my pianists :)

ABA

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

...every where I go!

Why do I have to leave Thailand during their winter? I never thought I would say winter was my favorite season, but in Bangkok it is most certainly true. There is a "cool" breeze that allows the city to breathe, the humidity has been sucked out of the air and the sun doesn't feel quite so oppressive. The sky is a brilliant, clear blue hue, which looks oddly strange as the backdrop to oversized Christmas trees, ornaments and naitivity scenes.

As Mercy prepares for the Princess's visit and the holiday season, I find myself scrambling over odds and ends I need to collect for my thesis research and sorting through what goes home and what is left behind.

Tonight, I give you Christmas in Bangkok.

Emporium shopping mall brings out the mini trees and pointsettas.

Starbucks, my seasonal beacon.

Snowflakes!

Short dress outside at night and Christmas tree.

Office at Mercy. This tree was brought in and decorated in a very short amount of time.

Nativity scenes, reefs and mini trees hang out, overlooking the palms.

Where were you on December 5th?

Merry Christmas. Kisses from Thailand.

ABA

Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life. ((Kerouac))

Like watching the last bit of sand slip through the curved hourglass, I can see and feel my time here dwindling away, and I, like the last particle of sand, am clinging desperately to the glass wall of time. Walks after dinner feel like they should have happened months ago and swimming laps in the cool blue waters at Benjasiri Park, I ask myself, “Why didn’t I do this every day?” I think about places I still want to see and back streets I have yet to explore and my time with the kids…

While I am proud to say that my work at Mercy has not only been valuable, it has been quantifiable, in terms of the grants that I have worked on, my most treasured experience has been the relationships I have built with my RIST students. ((RIST is the name of the International School my Mercy kids attend.)) Their trust, their hugs, their smiles, their good days and bad have all been shared. Their ability to overcome, their fierce determination to succeed, their good will toward others and their unconditional love for each other breaks me down and builds me up just a little bit stronger every day.

One of my girls, a mother at 19 and still in high school is consistently a renewed sense of pride (thanks dad, I stole that one from you!). Last night I joked with her, “How come you are thinner than me and you’ve already had a baby!?” She laughed and patted my belly, a sign of comfort and affection in Thailand, and replied, “P’Alex, if you stay here you will be skinny forever and when you have a baby, we have herbal pills that make you skinny, plus you will have to go to the sauna for one hour every day.” A tempting offer. I made her promise to send me the pills when I am pregnant. “No problem, they’re only 40B a pack!”

This morning, stepping out into my narrow, littered soi I was greeted by my always smiling next door neighbor. Without fail, he shouts “Good morning!” hearing the clanking of metal as I slide our front gate closed. I usually find him in shorts, with no top, a sinewy man in his early 50s with a lean face and a smile that stretches from ear to ear, either cleaning his motor bike, or shaving, using his motorbike’s 2’’x 1’’ rearview mirror for accuracy. This particular morning I found him sitting at the modest table he has just beyond his sliding metal gate of a front door. He gestured for me to come join him. I know this man to be a good man and the feeling has been confirmed with Pung’s story detailing his kindness of taking her in, during a monsoon, when she was locked out of our house. If I hadn’t been en route to editing and academic writing I would have taken him up on his offer. To be invited into someone’s home as a foreigner is an honor, especially in this community.

Our conversation went a little like this:

“Maa” he gestured with the sweeping motion of his hand, come come.

He signaled to the bottle of Blend 285, a cheap Thai scotch/whiskey still in the box, with a glass ripe with condensation and filled with a pale yellow, watered down Blend.

“Ahhh, mai-ka, kap khun ka,” I replied, with the look of Oh thank you, but no thank you, a gracious smile swept across my sleepy face. It was just before 11AM.

“Chai, nit noi, nit noi – kap,” in his most persuasive, yet gentle tone, he negotiated, “Just a little bit, a little.”

Using the limited Thai I have on reserve, I busted out my favorite line, “Mai ka, mai gin lao.” I learned this phrase drinking whiskey by accident, and learned it quickly. With the subtleties of the tonal language, saying “gin lao” can either mean, “I have already eaten” or “I have been drinking whiskey,” a lesson taken from Mercy’s security guards after they offered me dinner one night and then roared in laugher at what I thought was a perfectly valid response.

He looked confused, to why I would turn down a perfectly good, cold glass of Blend an hour before high noon. I struggled with words.

“Chan bia key-en, key-en SCHOOL?” In an attempt to explain I had to go write, to write for school, he smiled and laughed in defeat. I searched for the words “Next time” but they weren’t there and my heart saddened at the thought that there many not be a next time.

I thought about the book I am attempting to read, while continuing my work for Mercy, my own school-work and my blog; Shantaram. It’s an impressive tale and a quick paced read and I have found, a favorite among traveling young men. However, this book could not have been suggested at a more appropriate time, as the author recounts his time, as a foreigner from Australia, living in the slums of Bombay. At times I feel his stories are my own and the realities of his life are running parallel to mine. He speaks of the perception of danger to those outside of the slums and of the safety he feels within them. I relate. People know me now, as one of the few foreign faces to be seen in the neighborhood, always surrounded by Thais. I feel a sense of belonging. Looking back to my first day, watching my mother’s face trail off in the taxi out of Jet-sip-lai, I can only laugh: I had no idea what was about to happen and I thought, “What have I gotten myself into?” Six months later I choke up at the thought of leaving. When I left Prague I felt satisfied, like I was ready to move on, but here, I just feel like I’m clinging on to every last minute. 11 full days left on the calendar. I can’t wait to see the faces I left behind, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving the people I love here.

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
((Kerouac, On the Road))

Pictures to come soon.

ABA

Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road. - Jack Kerouac, On the Road

The best time of day in Bangkok is 6pm. The stifling city air feels lighter, there is just enough light in the sky, people are buzzing about and the blazoning sun has taken its nightly reprieve.

This particular Sunday evening I took myself to the coffee shop near my Laundromat, in an attempt to check two things off my growing “to-do” list. Wearing my last clean pair of underwear, and I own an embarrassing amount, I couldn’t help but think of how much my to-do list was going to grow in the subsequent days.

When everyday feels like a mid-summer night, Starbucks becomes my seasonal guide. Cranberry White Chocolate Mochas and Peppermint Mochas are filled in the green and red cardboard cups, embellished with carolers and big smiling snowmen. Oversized, decorative mistletoe line the “Christmas Blend” promotional posters, tempting those who are drawn by the festive spirit. The holiday season has arrived. Nat King Cole belts out December 25th pastimes and I am reminded of the smoky smell of winter and the heat emanating from the dark, antique living room’s marble fire place.

Two weeks.

For now I am busy beyond words and still sweating in shorts, but I will try my hardest to get my parting thoughts live before my return.

Back to thesis questions, AIDS grants and proposal editing and organizing and, of course, the kids.

But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies. ((Kerouac))

ABA

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. ((Kahlil Gibran))

One of the most beautiful things I have seen in a long time.

!!Click on the title of this blog post to watch!!

Check out this fantastic video of the Mercy 2 boys, as seen through the eyes of Ben. I promise it will leave you with a smile on your face and a smile in your heart!

Ben, you cease to amaze.

ABA

There is nothing that makes its way more directly into the soul than beauty. ((Joseph Addison))

The seasons are changing here in Bangkok. There are points in the night when it even feels cool. The humidity is slowly abandoning the air and the sun doesn't feel quite so hot. I can see the appeal of Bangkok "winters" and with the cool breeze and the hot sun, it is very easy to forget that it is Thanksgiving at home and people are bundled up in winter coats.

This year I have so much to be thankful for and today I woke up with a renewed sense of joy. I live in this beautiful city, I have incredible friends scattered all over the world, I’ve had the opportunity to travel the globe and meet new people and for the past six months I have had the privilege of working with Thailand’s finest.

Last night was a night of reflection and as the ones I love sat together eating turkey and stuffing, I thought about this journey. With two and a half weeks emblazoned on my calendar, I am faced with the reality that this chapter is coming to an end. And while I am sure that this is only the beginning of my involvement with Mercy and the amazing people I have met here, knowing our lives with be forever be linked, these past six months can never be repeated. The impact of this experience will only be realized in time, but without words, I can feel the change that has happened within me.

I learned the power and beauty of trust and have seen the ways it can be used for good and bad. I have learned to trust my instinct, knowing that my initial reaction to someone or something is usually the closest version to the truth. I have seen the work, compassion and splendor of a jing jai (true heart) and the way a person’s eyes can tell the story of their heart without words. I have been taught jai yen (a cool heart) and the importance of patience. I have been shown the purity of a child’s love and the strength of persistence and optimism. And I can’t imagine any place in the world where I would rather be on Thanksgiving, a day in which we give thanks for all the blessings in our lives.

Yesterday we received word that a grant I had been working on with another Mercy staff member was contracted. Nearly $32,000 has been given to support Mercy’s Bridge of Hope hospice centre, working with HIV/AIDS patients living in the slums. This morning we completed another budget for $48,000 to fund training programs, in which Mercy will teach other NGOs about our homecare and outreach programs for those living with HIV/AIDS. My kids are all back in school and working hard. One of the older girls, currently studying at Clarke University in Massachusetts, has just learned that she has been accepted, with scholarship, to study abroad in China this spring. My thesis is slowly coming together with the support of my SIT cohorts and I can start to see the light at the end of this “Masters” tunnel.

And with that, I come back to the quote: Nothing of the soul is depleted when shared. This week I was able to share my love of Mercy with two friends I met while traveling. The kids are still asking where P'Mark and P'Jules are, the two guys with the strong arms.

Mercy 2 boys with Jules and Mark. The boys were struggling after their day as a human jungle gym.

Jules at Mercy 3.

Mark and Strawberry Head.

Mercy 3.

Mark goes over Ann's power point on the Floods in Thailand.

Well done gentlemen. The kids miss you already. Best quote I heard yesterday:

"P'Alex, I had a great idea. I want to play ice-skating with your two boy friends."
- Nancy.

Anything to get back to the ice. Mark, last night in Bangkok??

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart. 
((Helen Keller))

See the beauty and give thanks.

ABA

On the other hand, you have different fingers. ((Jack Handey))

It’s overcast. With rainy season behind us, clouds have become an uncommon sight in Bangkok. Life seems to slow down in these moments. Perhaps it’s my complete lack of sleep, but the candy-colored taxis appear to be moving slower and the traffic almost gives the impression of order. The coffee shop is busy and the espresso machine is working itself in circles. With the lack of sun, comes the need for more caffeine, but even the venti isn’t working today.

I look around and besides the fact that I am surrounded by Thai’s, I feel like I could be in any major city in the world. Traffic and Starbucks, two things almost all major cities claim these days. And if it isn’t Starbucks, it’s some other coffee shop, where the smell of burnt toast and ground coffee beans dance in your nostrils. I used to feel pangs of guilt when I walked into a Starbucks in another country, almost like I was cheating on my current city and its rich culture, but in Bangkok, where coffee shops are a rare sight and Starbucks line every city corner, I am left with no choice. Besides, a taste of familiar every once and awhile is a balance I need.

The palm trees lining the street remind me of the temperature outside, yet my computer reads November. Coming from and always living in places that have four distinct seasons, I can’t wrap my head around how summer has lasted so long here. It will be this hot tomorrow and the next day and the next, yet there are plastic Christmas trees popping up in front of malls and winter clothes are coming out in the stores. Yesterday I saw a mannequin bundled in a thick coat, scarf and hat. Zara is stocked with heavy sweaters, tall leather boots and down coats.

We are living in the world’s hottest city.

Even in mid-November, the heat, coupled with the heavy humidity, makes your clothes cling to your dampened chest, milliseconds after stepping out of an air-conditioned room.

A thick coat of gloom hangs over the city, it’s only reprieve being it’s Friday. It feels like a good night to find a new spot, a underground jazz club, with deep maroon velvet couches and thick air, where the strangers faces are blurred from the lack of light. I’m convinced, like Starbucks, most major cities have a place like this. With my familiar quotient filled, I am prepared for the novel.

On a final note, recalling a conversation with a friend in the States last week, we spoke of doing things on your own. Moving many places on my own, not knowing anyone upon arrival, I have become a master of doing things solo. In fact, I enjoy a day to myself and I still find myself wandering the city alone, even though I have made quite close friends here. However, going on vacation alone is a first for me. This means a lot of alone time.

Next week I am off to Vietnam, alone.

Fortunately, I have always had friends scattered in every corner of this small planet and Vietnam is no exception. Wednesday I touch down in Ho Chi Minh City, also known as Saigon, for two days, where I will see Mike Kane, someone I spent many a days in diapers with and have not seen in years, and then I will continue on to Nha Trang, Vietnam’s most popular beach and “the” diving spot of Vietnam. It’s there that I will see two friends I have made in my travels, a Dutchman and a Brit. We will reconnect again in Ho Chi Minh City and continue on to Bangkok together. So while not really alone, we’ll see how well we connect with no phones and just the promise of dates and hotel names.

Always ready for an adventure, I will have my moleskin close by my side.

And with that, the sun is peaking it’s head out and I am almost finished with my coffee, my brain is slowly waking up and the prospect of NEW is getting me out of this seat and pushing me back into the world.

Until next time, go do something new. Shake things up a bit and never feel guilty about a little alone time, it keeps us fresh and makes us more pleasant.

Photo compliments of the one and only, Rick Ashley.

ABA