Bowel Movements

I am no stranger to living with a family other than my own, but being a live-in nanny with an American family is nothing like living with a host family during Peace Corps training. There is the obvious challenge of speaking different languages and then there are endless cultural elements to consider… I’m not gonna lie, y’all. I expected this whole host-family living situation to be hell. However, I am actually comfortable. Hell, I’m downright happy here.

Nevertheless, my first taste of the Peace Corps experience has not been all sunshine and butterflies. My baggage was destroyed somewhere along the way from Detroit to Thailand. I lost a few items and had to spend one-third of my two-month stipend on new luggage. I’ve only just arrived and I’m already on an extra tight budget - a situation all too familiar. My additional complaints include the territorial dogs that chase me as I ride by on my bicycle; the pressure to eat a ridiculous amount of food while my host family watches, awaiting my reaction; and my inability to obtain enough sleep. I’d also like to emphasize my total lack of privacy. The lock on the bathroom door doesn’t work, so if my 4-year-old host-sister decides to burst in while I’m showering, I’m just gonna have to deal with it.

That’s just a brief summary, folks.

It must be said that I’m biking nine miles a day, on average. I will admit that this is nothing compared to some volunteers who bike much further distances and never complain. But I still feel like a bad-ass. (Pardon my French, Grandma Jo.) In any case, no one is losing weight. We’re all puttin’ on the pounds a little quicker than we’d like. As you can imagine, the food in Thailand is a-plenty and oh-so-good.

In other news, I can easily speak for every single one of my fellow trainees when I say that we’re all suffering from a severe case of ‘Brain Pain’. The amount of information a Peace Corps trainee is expected to learn within ten weeks is absolutely insane. We’re all amazed at our abilities to hang in there.

Among the volunteers, friendships are forming fast. Upon arrival, we quickly noted a few drinking spots to gather after our five o’clock release. Depending on travel distance between said drinking spot and our respective homes, we are granted roughly one hour of time to decompress before making curfew. In the midst of a two-beer consumption sprint, we exchange advice, reading material, and gossip. One trainee often comments on all the beautiful Thai women. Another enjoys intellectually stimulating topics like President Nixon or the implausibility of hyena domestication. The girls, including yours truly, often exchange shopping tips. But there is one topic that is always on the table, and that, my friends, is the subject of our bowel movements. This is a completely acceptable topic, regardless of gender or class.

Evenings with my host-family have become routine. I get home around night fall, settle in for dinner, and prepare for a language tutorial. (My ‘Paa’ insists that I be a fast learner of the Thai language.) By 7:30, I’m sent off to shower, study, and sleep. However, I rarely study. I’m usually watching one of the movies my brother loaded on my external hard drive before leaving Texas. (We’re talkin’ 900 gigs of entertainment media, guys. These movies aren’t gonna watch themselves…)

After my well-earned brain-drain, I spend nights with the windows open, listening to the crickets, frogs, and territorial dogs. I sleep sound under the safety of my mosquito net and with the necessary aid of an oscillating fan. The village is quiet by eight o’clock. I wake at 6 a.m. to rooster crows and village announcements screeching from nearby speakers that resemble giant megaphones. Sometimes, they play music that reminds me of 1920’s American croon-tunes and I pretend the megaphones are actually gramaphones.

Every day is absolutely nuts. I can’t believe this is my life. But the craziest bit so far was during my realization that I can actually do this. I mean, we’ve been here for 1 month. One. And somehow we’re already having long conversations in Thai. That’s bonkers! We’re making lifelong friendships with people that don’t speak a lick of English. These people actually like talking to us. They’re all so damn smiley and patient. It’s completely foreign - and delightful.

I don’t mean to sound cheesy, but the Thai spirit is infectious. A girl can get used to this real quick. Consider me one happy camper. Month numero uno has been a total success.

Stay tuned.