Adventures in South East Asia

17 ~ Giving up meat

The next morning, I slowly headed up the hill. Som-o and a couple young boys were raking up leaves already and chatting away in Thai.

Som-o greeted me with an energetic "Good morning!"

At forty-five or so years old, he handled hangovers far better than I. My body groggily responded to my mind's wake up pleas this morning. Maybe I'd be able to stay up late and get up enthusiastically for chores by the end of this week too.

I took a rake and helped them group everything into piles, to burn and subsequently be used as part of fertilizer. We continued until breakfast was ready where I tried passion fruit for the first time. It had almost the same texture as cantaloupe.

After, as we painted the bamboo classroom to preserve its lifespan an extra five years, two more young boys joined the effort. I caught them staring at me often, but as soon as I turned to smile, wave or greet them, they would hide, run or laugh. As a foreigner, I was used to attracting attention, but I didn't usually scare children. Som-o assured me that they'd warm up to me and  we continued to chat about Thailand and Canada. I also learned that diesel could be used to supplement paint supply.

In the afternoon, we ventured down to the family farm. It was exciting to go beyond the Akha school/residence and the short drive to his brother's place in the dark. The farm lay at the bottom of the valley and stretched across three of four fields. A bit of infrastructure like a mud hut, a bamboo covered rest area and a few tool sheds sat on a raised hill area. We spent the afternoon clearing weeds off the gravel paths in the hot sun. Over the next few days, we planned to mix up the bags of cement and sand to pave these little paths.

The boys warmed up to me as we worked and I even got frequent surprise hugs from one. They started to speak to me in Thai often and burst out laughing when 90 percent of my answers were 'Mai Khao Jai', indicating that I didn't understand. It wasn't long before the imitations began and I could just laugh. They were little goofballs, much like half of my students.

After our tasks, I got to see the collection of piglets who lived in a sty near the fish pond. Twenty or so black piglets squealed and ran as soon as people came near. There was also one adorable brown haired piglet. They ventured closer when I remained completely still so I could sneak pictures.

The boys who were helping out on the farm tried to literally drag me into the fish pond for a swim with them. The teenage son was watching and laughing, while offering no help. I shook my head, while also laughing, and told them that it was their turn to swim not mine.

Eventually once they gave up on their attempts, I was a boring adult and watched from the side as they jumped in to fight the summer heat. Other than the mud coloured water, it was a great swimming venue: mountains on all sides, bright green fields stretching and napping piglets under a bamboo structure. I didn't want to drench my clothes, and I was not comfortable being in less than that around all these kids. Being foreign already drew enough attention; I didn’t need to a scandalous one at that. I saved that for crazy nights when I partied on Thai islands.

A few minutes after a loud shot sounded off in the distance, Som-o came out of the forest with a bird flipped upside-down. With the bird, he decided it was suppertime and most of us crammed in the truck box for the ride back up the mountain. Only Som-o's son and Nueng rode on the motorbike.

Before the young boys left for their homes, Som-o gave each one some money for helping out on the farm. He had also made sure they were fed and given water all day. I admired the way Som-o ran this organization. Not only did the boys get skills like painting and building under his influence, they were rewarded for their hard work. The way they had coming running into the yard yesterday when we arrived indicated just how highly esteemed he was in their eyes.