My very first thanksgiving.

This week I celebrated my very first thanksgiving - in Thailand of all places!

On Thursday we had school and so instead of rice and chicken for lunch, we had rice, chicken (which we pretended was turkey) AND mashed potatoes mixed with gravy! Yum, yum, yum. Though I'm sure the majority of our kids would have preferred just normal rice mixed in with some fish sauce, they all tried the new foreigner food. Some liked it, some hated it and some questioned why on earth we were eating baby food. Nevertheless, it was a fun meal time and it reminded us all of the family we have become.

On Friday we had the day off school and an evening celebration at our boss' house. The day consisted of a long lie and mashed potato making! While I am not a huge fan of the photo, I would just like to share the amount of potatoes peeled, cut, boiled and mashed!

The smell of potatoes still lingers on my hands..I'm sure of it!

We arrived and helped to set up and serve and of course enjoy a DELICIOUS thanksgiving meal! Turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, hot cider, stuffing, pumpkin pie and of course, mashed potatoes! So scrumptious!

Then we all sang songs together, with our Thai staff and friends, and talked and laughed and played with some adorable children.

 Room mate Brittany, myself and the 4th Grade Thai teacher Nida. :)

 Feeding the most adorable little girl the whole of my cherry pie. Talk about sacrifice!

Such sweeties!

Though I am not American, nor do I celebrate thanksgiving on a yearly basis, I most definitely have a lot to be thankful for. 

Only in Thailand..

'Is that mouse poop, gheko poop or poop bugs..?' whilst looking in the cupboard.


Having to call our boss and see if we can come over and use his shower because we have no running water for the weekend. 


Using ridiculous amounts of rubber bands to hold the tap down because when the water eventually came back on..we discovered the tap was broken and then proceeded to brake it further by mistake. 


'I feel itchy..can you check my head for lice again?' (thankfully there were none..but it's a very high possibility)


'How are you today teacher?'
'I am good thank you, and you?'
'I am fine thank you, and you?'
It can be a bit of a vicious circle...


People are freezing in 20 degree weather. And I even where a jumper..I'm not quite sure how it's possible to feel cold in this country, but it has happened.


Setting Chinese lanterns off next to some old monks who catch a tree on fire, and almost catch us on fire. At the same time as killing themselves laughing because they've attached sparklers on the end of the lanterns and that is why everything is going up in flames. Definite trouble makers. 


Is the answer 'tall' given when the question is - 'Who is God?'


Does my science lesson consist of 'pretend to be a monkey, now pretend to be a tree, now pretend to be a pencil' and do 1st graders constantly tell me everything is beautiful because that is one of the only adjectives they know. It is good for self-esteem though...in the moments when their tact is not letting them down!

Pretending to be a tree.

These are not moments of significance, nor do I have much to say about them. But these are the moments in my days where I am reminded that I am far away from home, and that the best things to do in these situations is to laugh it off. 

'Sometimes working in a Third World country makes me feel like I am emptying the ocean with an eyedropper. And just when I have about half a cup full of water it rains. More orphaned children from the north migrate to where I live, more abandoned and dead babies are found, more people are infected with HIV. It is enough to discourage even the most enthusiastic and passionate person. And yet the discouragement only lasts a moment and God tells me to keep going. That He loves me. That He loves these people. That He will never leave or forsake any of us, not one. That my work is important to Him.' - Katie Davis

This I can relate to. Our school has 29 kids. 29 beautiful, precious and unique individuals. But some days it doesn't seem enough for me. I think of the rest of the kids in this city, in this country and in our world. The billions of orphans and abandoned children. The billions in need. And I am tricked into believing that 29 kids just isn't enough. But the truth is - statistics are just statistics and numbers will always just be numbers. But lives can change. There is worth in effecting one life. It's not my job to save the world and it is not my job to meet it's needs. It is my deep privilege to make a difference.
Yes - some days I am a little overwhelmed by what I see, read or hear. But I would like to assure you that I am fine. I am learning and growing through these overwhelming truths - but it has never been too much to handle.
I think back to the individuals who have made a difference in my life - and they were never seeking to make a difference to the most amount of people possible. They were concerned for me. They loved me. They paid attention to an individual. And so that is what I am to do for these kids. I am to see them as individuals. As one person. And work to love that one child.

Blessed.

I have always struggled with the question 'why me?' Not in the self-pitying sense, but a question of blessings. 
Why was I blessed to be born in a country full of wealth? What did I do to deserve to be born into a Christian family who loves and cares for me? Why, when there are millions suffering, was I chosen to grow up in ignorance and comfort?
I know I have done nothing to deserve this. Yet I know that this life was meant for me. I know that before I was born, I was chosen and set apart. And before I was born He knew the plans He had for me, He knew my every step before I took it. The life I have led has not been by mistake or chance. It was chosen for me.
But I know that each of these gifts have been blessings. My life has been easy - I have never been without food or water. I have been well educated and have grown up with incredible friends who have always been there to support me. I've never had to suffer through abuse or torment and I've always been made to feel safe. All of which I take for granted.
Living here has begun to bring those already known truths to light. The stories often heard from the comfort of my living room sofa, church pew or school desk are no longer just stories. 
So why me? 
Because 'Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand more.' 

I was not blessed because I got lucky.
I was not blessed because I am worthy.
I was blessed to bless.

This year that takes the form of loving these precious kids. And whatever else He sees fit to entrust me with.

fun.

Seeds planted.

The kids who come to our school are from a mixture of religious backgrounds - some are from Buddhist families and some are from Christian families. The school is openly a Christian school and so all the parents know that they are taught Bible stories here and we pray etc etc. Though some parents have specifically told their children not to bow their heads in prayer and to just ignore the things they are taught about Christianity - it's been really cool to see the seeds that have already been planted in these kids. Though the signs are small, and could be easily missed, they are still there. Faith as small as a mustard seed right?

Here are some examples - there is a little boy who comes here. He's in 3rd grade - but nobody is entirely sure of his age. He was taken away from his parents when he was 5 months old because they were both put in jail for drug dealing. Ever since he has been in a children's home. The home is a good place for him to be and they treat him well - but growing up without your parents is difficult wherever you are, even if you are placed in the best of children's homes. About a week ago, he broke his ankle. He went to the hospital with my room mate and she said that they kept asking him questions like 'what's your mother's name?', 'what's your father's name' and 'where do you live?' and to each question, he gave a disheartening 'I don't know.' Even through all of this, there is still a seed growing in him. This morning I was sitting with him, playing a game and I noticed some writing on his leg. I said 'What is that writing? Did you do that? What does it say?' and he replied with 'Yes teacher. I show you on paper' and on a piece of paper he drew a picture to himself and an arrow pointing to the words 'I Love God.'
Yesterday, on the way home from school we were dropping off the little girl who's mother has cancer. She has been through so much in her little life, and while we aren't sure how much she understands, everything that has happened to her mother is bound to have effected her in one way or another. We were listening to a CD with the song 'Our God is greater' on it, and as my room mate picked her up out of the van and spun her round she looked up and in English said 'Teacher, we have a big, big God!'
And one of the other 3rd graders, spent the whole bus journey home talking about what he had learned about the Bible and all the stories he knew about God. He goes around singing 'open the eyes of my heart Lord' and remembers so much that he's heard or learned. He comes from a Buddhist family, and has even had to be a monk for his Grandfathers funeral.
Another little boy lives with his Grandparents. His parents divorced and his mother remarried so didn't take him with her, and his Dad didn't want him. We found out the other day that if he weren't here, he would be going to school at the temple. And we've heard stories about how the younger boys are abused and treated by the older monks at the temples. 
Every child here has a unique story, and they all have a need for a seed to be planted.


Last night, we met with a lady who the girls have come to know very well whilst they've been here. She said something that has stuck with me. She talked about how we wouldn't know, until we got to heaven, what lives we have touched and which individuals we have made a difference to. I've only been here a month, but I already feel responsible for what happens to these kids. If I feel that way after such a short time of knowing them, how much more does their Father in Heaven care about them? I'm learning to depend on God for my needs more and more here, but I think the bigger challenge is learning to depend on Him for their needs and their lives too. 

Eye opening.

Every day after school we take some of the kids home in the school van (no don't worry, I'm not allowed to drive it.) One our kids' mums has cancer - and so we bring her home and give them leftover food from lunch at school. She is a single mother, a baker and was diagnosed with cancer in January and was told they had caught it very late on. On Monday we dropped this little girl home, and my boss and room mate went into the house leaving me with another little girl in the van. As we chatted and played and sang songs, my boss and room mate were busy talking with the mother - and deciding whether she needed to be taken to the hospital or not. Over the weekend she had had terrible muscle ache and the doctor had given her some medicine for it - the medicine helped for a little while but when the pain returned it had spread to her legs. She said she didn't want to go to the hospital because she wouldn't be able to see her own doctor and so she would rather stay at home, despite the terrible pain she was in. 
Later on that evening, we were all having dinner at our boss' house when he received a phone call from the mother, asking him to take her to the hospital. 3 of them left, leaving 3 of us round the dinner table to pray. They gave her some medicine, and told her to come back on Wednesday. 
The next day, when we dropped the little girl back home again, she seemed much better. She said that the pain was gone and she was feeling brighter - she kept saying that because of the amount of pain she was in, she was expecting death and was just relieved that the pain was now gone.
On Wednesday, our boss wasn't going to be around for most of the day - so left the school van in our capable hands. (Again, I wasn't allowed to drive..don't worry!) We had to make a trip to the hospital to take the mother for her check-up and so that myself and one of the other teachers could get our medical check done for our work permits (this included a syphilis test..standard procedure apparently..) Anyway, the 3 of us plus 2 of my room mates left to go to the hospital at around 8.30 am and didn't leave the hospital till after 4 pm. In the meantime, one of the boys at school broke his foot so had to be taken to another hospital by my last room mate and one of the Thai teachers. 
While me and Emma (the other English teacher) went off to get our tests done, accompanied by a trusty room mate, the others waited patiently in the waiting room to be seen. The blood test was fairly harmless and I am happy to inform you that I am indeed, clear of syphilis. We had our blood taken at about 10.30 but had to wait till 2 to get the results and get the rest of our check up complete which consisted of the doctor making me breathe in about 100 different places, prodding (which felt a little bit too much like groping if you ask me) and checking I had teeth. 
The mother was not seen till 3.30. Apparently the system here is that, they don't actually have a system. They tell everyone who has to get a specialised check up to arrive at 9 and then they just work their way through them. And after all that waiting for an appointment that would tell her what was going on, they couldn't really tell her. Basically what they said was 'we diagnosed her in January, took a scan in February, operated in February, did some chemo, then radiation and then some more chemo.' To which my room mate said 'right, okay, but you've done more scans since then to see if the cancer is spreading right?' 
'No, she's already had her scan for this year but the cancer is not spreading because we've been doing radiation.'


It just seems that life has less value here. In a place where social class is everything, you really have no chance if you're amongst the poor. A single mother who works herself sick to provide for her family is treated like the dirt beneath our feet, simply because she has not had the same chances in life. Here, that is her fault. It's 'karma' and so most people brush her aside. 


It's in days like these where I realise why I'm here. The smallest amount of help can go a long way - like waiting at the hospital all day with someone when they're afraid and lonely. Or giving someone leftovers so they have something to eat. Or giving a little girl a ride home. 
I think we tend to forget how big an impact a small act of love can have.