Right now I'm still in "jungle" mode. This trip in to Chiang Mai, I just haven't really gotten my mind around being in Chiang Mai. Maybe it's largely due to the fact that I've been staying with others with whom I generally see and associate with the jungle. Maybe it's just because I've crossed some critical threshold of time in the village. I'm not sure the cause.
But this time I've not checked BBC News once, even though it's my web browser's home page. I tried to read the headlines once, but my lack of background knowledge simply overwhelmed. Somebody told me there was a terrible shooting in a movie theater in Colorado while I was in the jungle. I'm really, really sorry to hear that. I assume it's probably old news for you, though. Neither have I watched an episode of Glee or The Office. Or surfed Facebook for updates on people I care about. Or even barely checked my e-mail. Or really remembered the full potential of Skype.
And that's actually all a problem, because I'm not in Chiang Mai often enough to waste the few precious opportunities for internet connectivity.
Sooo... needless to say, this blog entry will not be stocked full of helpful links to recent news articles or discuss these major events that we are supposed to all share in our human psyche. According to popular opinion, that makes this a pitiful blog. I suppose there are pitfalls to trying to write a blog while living in the jungle. You just really know way more about what's going on than I do.
But I can talk about life in the jungle. I do not know what Aung San Suu Kyi's most recent words were, which is something I miss, but I know it's the rainy season and that tomorrow begins the Buddhist Lent. I know that when I take a shower, my hair may take 24 hours to dry, and I can forget about having really dry clothes. I know that plants are the most vibrant shade of green right now, and my valley has simply sprung to life from the dry grave of the dry season. I know that it's not banana season right now, though every Farang seems confused that we are not eating bananas. I'm not sure why. I know that papaya trees are beginning to put out their new produce, which will be ready in a few months, passion fruit vines are in their growing phase, and many pineapples are ready to pick. I also know that the leaves of the sweet potato vine growing wild in the crevice behind my house are really tasty on ramen (mama) noodles, and my mint and lemongrass make my "teacher's throat" feel a tiny bit happier. I also know where to go to look for wood to build an arbor for my passion fruit vine (though admittedly I need my brother for success on such occasions), and I know how to collect morning glory leaves for soup.
I also know the other stuff. The stuff that's common in a community that's suffered trauma. And people coming out of communities destroyed by drugs.
And though I am not able to follow the news from my home and perhaps you might idealize the beautiful parts of my world (and that's fine, they are idyllic), I'm sending out a plea to all of you to follow the news for me and to keep hoping and praying. And asking good questions. Don't accept too quickly. Be cautious. Because we need people who care about this part of the world and who want to see the hope of full lives.
But this time I've not checked BBC News once, even though it's my web browser's home page. I tried to read the headlines once, but my lack of background knowledge simply overwhelmed. Somebody told me there was a terrible shooting in a movie theater in Colorado while I was in the jungle. I'm really, really sorry to hear that. I assume it's probably old news for you, though. Neither have I watched an episode of Glee or The Office. Or surfed Facebook for updates on people I care about. Or even barely checked my e-mail. Or really remembered the full potential of Skype.
And that's actually all a problem, because I'm not in Chiang Mai often enough to waste the few precious opportunities for internet connectivity.
Sooo... needless to say, this blog entry will not be stocked full of helpful links to recent news articles or discuss these major events that we are supposed to all share in our human psyche. According to popular opinion, that makes this a pitiful blog. I suppose there are pitfalls to trying to write a blog while living in the jungle. You just really know way more about what's going on than I do.
But I can talk about life in the jungle. I do not know what Aung San Suu Kyi's most recent words were, which is something I miss, but I know it's the rainy season and that tomorrow begins the Buddhist Lent. I know that when I take a shower, my hair may take 24 hours to dry, and I can forget about having really dry clothes. I know that plants are the most vibrant shade of green right now, and my valley has simply sprung to life from the dry grave of the dry season. I know that it's not banana season right now, though every Farang seems confused that we are not eating bananas. I'm not sure why. I know that papaya trees are beginning to put out their new produce, which will be ready in a few months, passion fruit vines are in their growing phase, and many pineapples are ready to pick. I also know that the leaves of the sweet potato vine growing wild in the crevice behind my house are really tasty on ramen (mama) noodles, and my mint and lemongrass make my "teacher's throat" feel a tiny bit happier. I also know where to go to look for wood to build an arbor for my passion fruit vine (though admittedly I need my brother for success on such occasions), and I know how to collect morning glory leaves for soup.
I also know the other stuff. The stuff that's common in a community that's suffered trauma. And people coming out of communities destroyed by drugs.
And though I am not able to follow the news from my home and perhaps you might idealize the beautiful parts of my world (and that's fine, they are idyllic), I'm sending out a plea to all of you to follow the news for me and to keep hoping and praying. And asking good questions. Don't accept too quickly. Be cautious. Because we need people who care about this part of the world and who want to see the hope of full lives.
