Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 14: Week without walls: Juniors in the jungle

It has now been many moons since I signed my first two-year contract with Shekou International School. Still, I find myself proclaiming with some frequency, "No, I really didn't want to come to China. I was actively trying to avoid it, actually." But then the Universe took over and my intuition told me it was right. The conversations I had with Mike Livingston, my principal, and a number of other past and present employees, led me to feel that SIS would be a place that would foster a good deal of professional growth. It has. And more deeply than I had imagined. I also knew that I was being pulled to Asia for unforeseen reasons as well, that the move would present challenges and opportunities that I just could not predict, but that would prove remarkable for my personal growth.

This past week I had the opportunity to go on my second Week Without Walls trip. Along with two teacher friends and 27 juniors, I set off for the rainforest of Sabah, located on the Malaysian side of Borneo.

I have spent this week after returning from the trip reflecting on how rich it was in people and experience and real life learning. As I smile while looking at photographs, several big trip takeaways have surfaced.

1. The importance of indigenous knowledge systems

Our second day and night were spent at Utan Paradise. This beautifully rustic jungle camp is run by a sixty-something kind, kind man and his family. Inus is part of the head-hunter tribe, under the larger umbrella of the Murut. Men from Inus's tribe have historically proven their courage and strength to potential father-in-laws by bringing heads of the men from other tribes that they have conquered. Today, nothing remains of this practice. What does remain is a people working to preserve their language, rituals and culture. Before embarking on a waterfall hike, Inus gathered us around to watch a traditional hunting ceremony. Before going out to hunt wild boar or clouded leopard, men would put together an offering of rice and tobacco on palm leaves. This is a time for the men to ask for protection from the four elements -- wind, earth, fire, and water -- before entering the jungle. 

Inus, along with the Dragonfly staff, helped the students to learn to build a fire, and about how to make a hunting trap. 

And then there was the fishing expedition down by the pond ...

When I look at this photo, what keeps coming to mind is "Don't mess with Texas." We are nowhere near Texas here. I don't think any of these students have ever been to Texas. But, as you may note, these fishers mean business.
Here fishy fishy fishy fishy ...

They caught numerous fish and crawfish with those old school fishing rods. #sisfisherpeople

We were fortunate enough to hear more about Inus's childhood and history later in the evening. At twelve years old, when he first began going to school, he would arise at 3 am to begin the walk outside of the village to the nearest school. This was, for me, as for many of our students, a reminder of how privileged we are to have easy access to education. 

As Inus continued to detail and answer questions about his life, Joschua inquired, "How come you decided to make the jungle camp instead of going into the city?" Inus responded that he had indeed tried to live in the city for 10 years, working as a cook at a hotel, but his boss was always on his case, and he never found the peace that he felt in nature while in the city. So Inus has returned to the place he feels most connected to his culture. My fellow English teacher and friend, Faye, wondered aloud as she, our other friend and colleague Aaron, and I were talking later that evening, "What is lost for all of us when the history and knowledge of different peoples is lost to time or assimilation? What happens when stories stop being told?" 

So I wonder now What stories can we inquire about today, within or outside of our own family? What memories and stories might we share with our friends and family at the next dinner or get together? Who else's story might we seek to learn more about customs and traditions other than our own? 

2. Ignorance really isn't bliss

It has largely been in the last four years that I have begun to consider the larger impact many of my actions have on people that I have never met. While living in Ecuador, I began to learn more about fair-trade, especially in the vein of chocolate. A cross-continental shout-out to my friends Iain and Eva who work with We.org and worked with local cacao farmers in Ecuador to develop a new fair-trade bar to bite into soon! 

On this trip, it was Inus who began to enlighten me about a product called palm oil, a controversial ingredient found in lipstick, shampoo, biodiesel fuel, detergent and dozens of things we use on a daily basis. Inus spoke of the way that the palm oil plantations were destroying so much of the land and natural habitats for animals such as the orangutans and proboscis monkeys with little benefit to the people of Borneo.When I arrived back to Shenzhen, I dug more into the topic. After becoming more aware of the damage many of these plantations are doing, I am working on making more informed choices so that I can buy products that do not use palm oil, or at least use sustainably grown palm oil. 

The proboscis monkeys' hallmark feature is their large red nose. Here you see a female, whose nose is much smaller than her male counterparts. The bigger the nose, the sexier the monkey, said our river boat guide. Photo credit: Joschua Mueller

Perhaps it was more blissful for me before I knew of the unethical actions behind things like cacao trade and palm oil plantations, but it certainly is not blissful for those getting paid so little for their work, and it will not be a blissful future if we continue to plow down natural habitats and endanger more species. 

Ultimately, I am left to ask, What more can I do to align my actions with my ethics? and In what ways might I team up with others to support more ethical and sustainable practices? 

3. Hospitality makes a heart feel at home

One of our juniors, Jamie, articulated a sentiment that we all seemed to share when she wrote me, "The way the families at our homestay treated us made us feel at home. They welcomed us with open arms and really wanted to get to know us during the short period of time we had with them. Seeing how grateful they are for everything they have taught us to be grateful for even the smallest things in our lives." The warmth extended by each our of homestay hosts by and large seemed to have the largest impact on our students as two others, Sean and Joschua also reflected on this part of Week Without Walls. Sean noted that "This year's WWW was absolutely amazing ... what really stuck with me is the big smiles and hospitality the locals gave us throughout our visit. I truly admire the way the Malaysian people we met live in so much more happiness and harmony compared to some of the most privileged people in the world; I definitely appreciate my life more than I did before the trip." Joschua echoed much of this when he wrote, "I tried to do as much as possible to immerse myself in the local culture and some things that will stay with me are buying the fresh seafood at the market on the first day and staying with the homestay in Papar. Our host was great and we felt as if we were part of the family. We even got to hold the baby (!!!)." (I love ... love that he used three exclamation marks to denote his excitement at holding the baby. #sisstudentsrock)

Titta and NaYoon at breakfast with their hostess.

Alejandra, Minseo, Thea, Evelyn and I had so much delicious food this morning,
I do not know how I ended up eating such a squirmy ... well, that's next up ...

As we hugged our host family goodbye, I wondered Do guests in my house feel like family? What might I do to extend even more hospitality to those I host? 

4. Living outside your comfort zone has its rewards

I ate a worm. Not a skinny earthworm, but a fat, juicy sago worm. It started with a pact, between Aaron, Faye and I. Because we are IB teachers, and we must also model the learner profile, one of the qualities of which is "risk taker." 

So we sunk our teeth into that big worm above, which does turn into a rather large beetle over time. I was told it would taste something like coconut. I love coconut. Everything coconut. So I figured I could get over the texture, and the fact that it squirms in your mouth for a moment, and appreciate the coconut-ty goodness. Well, to my disdain, I tasted zero coconut flavor when I bit down into the creamy flesh of that worm. Faye's reaction on the other hand: priceless. And Aaron's, as cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, I was flailing my hands about and scrunching my nose ...

I do not believe I will be compelled to eat another ... in my entire life, but as it stands, I did get the equivalent of egg protein from popping that wood-dwelling wiggler into my mouth. That was, can we say, the benefit. The reward was really the fact that we essentially started a sago worm eating revolution amongst the students. And those reactions were priceless, too.

As Joschua demonstrates, you cannot eat the head, but you must bite off the body, and, as I did,
quickly throw the head to the ground lest it wriggle in the palm of your hand as you chew its remains.
Photo credit: Joshua Ip

This experience really begs the question Why live life in a box when you can eat sago worms out of a bucket? 

I have found that my move to Asia has prompted me to ask many questions ... about the way I live, about the way others live, about and the impact we all have on one another. I have yet to come up with very clear answers to many of the questions that surface in my day to day life, and on these incredible trips. This reminds me of some words from the protagonist of the book I was reading while on the trip. In John Green's newest novel, Turtles all the Way Down, Aza reflects, "Life is a bunch of choices between wonders ... What I love about science [about life] is that as you learn, you don't really get answers. You just get better questions." 

Cheers to this year's trip, to inquisitive students, to our new friends in Sabah, and to funny and interesting colleagues who are also friends. And cheers to experiences that prompt us to ask better questions.

#weekwithoutwalls2017 #juniorsinthejungle #sisrocks

#fearlessteachers

...

and one last toast to that Malaysian sunset

Photo credit: Sean the Sun

Life with Chinese characteristics, Chapter 13: A Mid-autumn festival in Thailand

Having arrived back in Shenzhen late last night, I am fighting off some post-trip blues tonight by flipping through photos. Mostly of elephants. So. many. elephant photos. My goodness, I never knew I could want to actually cuddle with such a big creature, or be wrapped up in an elephant trunk hug again and again. I think the elephant experience endorphins have stayed with me, actually, even days later, as I am still giddy about that whole experience. Before I start writing at light speed about my newfound love for big, bristly-haired, beautiful beasts, I've got to back up a bit.

Some months ago, my dear friend Anah (and Gustie alumni and track teammate), and Elizabeth (Anah's close friend and my new friend and owner of The Twin Cities' Colossal Cafes) set out planning a trip to Thailand. Anah and Elizabeth are the first of my friends and family from the West to visit me in the East. Throughout the trip, the theme for me became the ways that the East and the West are woven together. Having lived in the East for a relatively short time so far, I am really just beginning to ponder the ways that we are, if I may borrow a favorite Thai phrase, same-same-but-different. The trip provided a number of moments to contemplate the ways the East and West are mixed together in our globalized world.

It was after a couple of summer planning sessions with good wine and Thai food, that we were nearly prancing around the dinner table after nailing down the details, filled with anticipation of what adventure the trip would allow to unfold.

And as each day stretched out before us, adventure we did find.

We made our rendezvous at Loy La Long hotel in Bangkok. This was a gem of a find. One of those quaint places where you instantly feel at home. As I was waiting for Anah and Elizabeth to arrive the first morning, I sat in the breakfast area that opens up onto the river. A warm rain fell that day. While the tugboats puttered by, I meditated on the way I feel life is quite enchanting when I travel. I am not a believer in fairytales. Oh, I suppose there is some innocent romantic hidden inside my heart that wants to believe in some of that magic, but largely I am a skeptic. Except, each time that I experience a new place, I fall in love with life again with all of the excitement and anticipation erupting in my body, a lava of life flowing into my veins.

Breakfast views at Loy La Long

Our first day in Bangkok was filled with happy squeals and a lot of giggles as we set out to explore Chatachak Weekend Market. Cass's friend Keith lived in Thailand for a year with his wife Sarah, and he had advised us to simply allow ourselves to get lost and to eat as much street food as possible. This is perhaps my favorite piece of travel advice ever.

Those chicken skewers, though.

After doing what Baci-Huggenvik-Tinucci women do very, very well, and purchasing a number of fun market finds, while sipping our drunken ice teas, we went to see Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn, by night. It was dazzling.

For our second day in Bangkok, our original plans to hang out at Lumpini Park were foiled by monsoon-like rains. So we looked up at the Heavens and said, "We got you, Universe. Time for Thai massage, right?" After asking two locals, we headed to Health Land, a Western looking spa, offering a very Eastern experience. 

As we were sitting in the waiting area, it suddenly dawned on us that we did not know what we were walking into. In the 30 seconds before we were called, a quick Google search surfaced the words "acupressure," "Ayurvedic techniques" and "assisted yoga positions." We all walked into the room with three thin mattresses on the floor wearing quizzical expressions. First, we were asked to take off our clothes in order to dress in loose fitting pants and a tunic-like top. The two hour massage that followed was quite different than what these three Western women are used to. Suffice it to say, my muscles felt thoroughly stretched out after the woman giving me my massage had used her arm like a rolling pin all over my body, and had stretched my limbs in all directions. The trip afforded us time for a second Thai massage, and after having a better understanding of what the experience was going to be, I relaxed into it more deeply, vowing to find Thai massage in China. If you're interested, read more about it here, and if you are in the Twin Cities area, you might even call to make an appointment for your own Zen Experience.

After our day and a half in Bangkok, we set off for the north and landed in Chiang Mai. When we woke up that first morning, we planned to hike to a waterfall near Huay Tung Tao Lake. As our Uber driver was taking us there, the rain began to pour down harder, but the mood was lightened as our new Thai friend belted out Country Roads. When the song ended, he looked in the rear view mirrror and inquired, "Why the people vote for Trump?" We quickly all chimed in our own confusion over the election as we shook our heads and explained many people did not vote for him. 

After arriving at the lake, we acknowledged that the rain again had thwarted our original plans, so we set out to run around the water a couple of times, enjoying a good soaking in our good natured ways.

While our time in Chiang Mai had begun with some activity, this part of the trip was ultimately defined by really. good. food. During lunch at the Tikky Cafe, I had to follow my favorite Italian (at least I once heard a fellow Italian utter it) mantra: Eat through the pain. I licked clean my pineapple filled with seafood and brown fried rice. With bellies protruding with Thai food babies, we wandered the old city for some hours, coming across lovely scenes and cool coffee shops. 

Ristr8to had a chill vibe and served handcrafted coffee drinks in these skeletal glasses.

Somehow after our meanderings, we found ourselves hungry again. Keith tells everyone visiting Chiang Mai that they have to check out the street corner Burmese restaurant off of Nimmanhaemin Road. Good lawwwwd, the tea leaf and tamarind salads were out of this world. And the total cost of dinner for three women who know how to eat? Four dollars. For serious.

We rolled ourselves into bed that night, indulging our bodies in food comas. This was only to wake up the next morning for an 8-hour Thai cooking class. Anah and I really dug learning how to make curry paste and Thai soups, though Elizabeth, as the restauranteur that she is, was less impressed with the experience. This is something to note if you are considering the Thai Farm Cooking School. Its target audience seems to be amateur chefs. I did find one of our instructors particularly entertaining as she repeated, "More spiiicy, more seeexy," "More hiiigh, more seeexy" (as she pinched salt into dishes from sky high), and "Take it eaasssy." 

Three ladies, so seeexxy.

I added extra chili peppers. You already know what's coming...
More spiiicy, more seeexxyy!

After finishing the cooking class with sticky rice and mango, my Thai kryptonite, Elizabeth took Anah and I on a tour of some of the Chiang Mai temples that she had found on a morning run.

Here's Thailand, offering more enchanting moments.

What I found particularly fascinating about this walk was the way that the old and the new, the East and the West, were juxtaposed. The ancient temples are now surrounded by new restaurants and shops. As the monks chant inside the temples, just next door, Western pop music blares out of speakers at the local establishments. While Elizabeth and I explored inside the temples, Anah hung out outside to people watch. When we returned from inside of one, she recounted watching a monk in his saffron robe and bare feet, exit the 7-Eleven across the street. All of this was just really fascinating.

Kind of in the same same but different way it is fascinating that our stomachs can hold so much food. On the way home from temple gazing and wine sipping, we discovered another restaurant serving tea leaf salad ... and bananas in coconut milk. Omg, I'm so stuffed thinking about this trip right now ... but just not stuffed enough to turn down another papaya salad if it knocked on my door. 

We did follow up our day-o-eating with a day-o-hiking. With a good sense of adventure, we followed most of the directions in this blog to make our way on the Monk's Trail to arrive at Doi Sethup. About halfway up the trail, we came across a meditation area that was just stunning. 

If were were to do this again, we all agreed we would have set out on the hike allowing more time to hang out here.

In between this spot and reaching the temples, three brainy women somehow made a silly mistake (we'll blame it on recovering from the food coma still) and passed right by the big buddha who marks the stairs that ascend to Doi Sethup. I'm not sure how you'd even do the same, but just in case, do not pass Buddha ...

A clear indication that this is the right path. Only foggy brained persons walk past ...

After a 45-minute detour, we did find our destination after all.

Luckily, in spite of all of this talk of food comas and food babies, we still felt rather small ... in comparison to the elephants we spent the day with at Patara Elephant Farm following our hike. This was an experience of a lifetime for me. But hanging out with these grand animals does not come with some responsibility. All over the world, humans and animals are exploited. In Thailand, elephants are often the animals terribly treated so that tourists can have an experience to write home about. My friend Sung shared an article that is worth reading if you are planning a trip to see the elephants. We had done some research before booking our time with Patara, whose mission is rescue, recovery, reproduction, reintroduction. We found the day educational and delightful as we fed the elephants, bathed the elephants, and had an elephant ride. While my gut says Patara is caring for these animals' welfare, there are sources that report any elephant riding is bad for the elephant. I encourage you to do your own research in order to make the decision you feel is most ethically sound. 

Now here come some great photos, folks...

It was difficult to follow this day up, but when we arrived at the The Nest 2 in Chiang Dao in the evening, we found ourselves in a serene setting. This time, we foiled our own initial plans of another good hike because we were very tired ladies after a good deal of action. A slow meander up and down the road near our abode led us to explore the ancient buddhist caves. As we went from expansive spaces to squeezing ourselves into tiny spaces, while listening to bats swoop over our heads, I've never felt more like I was in an Indiana Jones film. 

Beauty in the town square near where you enter the caves.

Anah and Elizabeth are now in Ko Lanta, an island of Southern Thailand, but our last night together was spent over many more courses of Thai food and good wine. 

We talked into the night about the ways in which the trip had somehow changed some part of how we viewed the world. Elizabeth noted how before she had come, she had been told she would experience so much culture shock. What she noted throughout the trip was how accessible the travel was, how unintimidating being immersed in another culture had ended up feeling. Anah and I spoke about how we were more aware of being socially conscious. And this, to me, is perhaps the greatest beauty of travel. One cannot leave a place without the fiber of their being somehow changing shape. 

I am signing off here tonight with words from English writer Gerald Gould:

“Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!
For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!”