Tisch Global Jumbos

by Lucy

If I were to view my life in accomplishments, I wouldn’t be able to grasp anything–I cannot hold onto any moment or thing indefinitely, as achieving is holding, possessing. Rather than achieving, I view my life as experiencing. Experiencing lets each moment develop itself within me and depart, leaving me satisfied, not attempting to catch and hold on to a title of “accomplishment.”

I think back to our first week in the city of Chiang Mai where my peers and I made bingo boards of what we hoped to accomplish while in Thailand. I forgot about it for a while, but when I came back to the paper I had found that I had experienced nearly all of the items just within a few weeks.

“Having a basic conversation in Thai.” “Experiencing nature and mountain landscapes.” “Craft.”

While writing these, I didn’t feel like I necessarily had to accomplish any of these, rather they were things I thought were reasonably possible to do, and that I would likely enjoy doing them. Only now do I see that my subconscious, lighthearted but well-intentioned goal making has been completely formative to my experience here in Thailand.

What started from ordering my iced latte with 50% sweetness every morning in Thai turned into conversations about my family and life with my homestay families just in a week.

Exploring temples in the mountains, watching rice fields turn from tall green grass to short, brown, and harvested.

Dyeing clothes with natural pigments in hill tribe villages, painting at my internship every day, painting the house at our excursion, pottery & watercolor workshops as group activities.

Grey boxes quickly adorn a slash in pen across each one.

But one of the things I have not crossed off yet:

“Make friends to have a reason to come back to Thailand for.”

More than things I want to experience or accomplish is my desire to connect to people whose lives revolve around this country. To return here without someone to visit feels like I’m going just for myself–which of course is not a bad thing–but there is abundant beauty in the relationships you have established and maintained over thousands of miles of distance. This box remains uncrossed because I hope there will be no cap on the number of relationships I receive while I’m here.

My host family–Por Swing, Mae Mui, my parents; Nong Newton, Nong Bao Bei, my younger siblings; they have taken me in just as their own child and sibling. Nudging me for waking up past 7 (how do they get up so early…); sitting at dinner talking about food and learning their Northern Thai terms; suddenly facetiming their friends and introducing them to me; new faces showing up at every hour of the day, greeted by a simple “sawatdee jao”; yelling into my room to tell me it’s time to eat.

My coworkers and supervisors at my internship, Nai Suan. Ending placement days with hours of playing guitar and singing with P’Yoshi, P’Ice, and P’Mayu. Eating freshly grilled corn from the family’s fields with P’Boil while he tells us about his art, his life.

It’s only been a month and a half– yet it’s been a whole month and a half. However I choose to define it, I know concretely that I have experienced, and will leave with my bingo board of experience blacked out.

by Syd

Anxiously sitting in the van, thinking of all the possibilities. What would my home look like? Would my feet be too big for the steps? Would I be able to join in when she cooks? So many questions raced through my head, and it felt like a minute longer I would explode. I was genuinely nervous (and excited, of course).

We toured the area in the van. We saw lots of cows and dogs, which I was determined to pet at some point. As Hannah and P’Bo continued to point at everyone’s houses, I patiently waited to see mine.

We arrived at the community center and played a game of “guess who your host mom is.” As we sat there and guessed, I really hoped that my guess was right because the mom that I guessed looked like an extremely caring and kind woman (and also so I could tell the group that I was right). Finally, the moment came when I would find out which mom was mine. Lo and behold, I had guessed correctly. There was Mae Wandee, ready to put my white cotton bracelet on my wrist. Now the picture of her and me on that first day is one of my favorite photos.

When I got to the house, my nerves melted away. Mae Wandee showed me around, and I saw the outdoor kitchen. I immediately knew I would spend lots of time there helping Mae cook and take note of her recipes. That first night, I also met Mae Wanna’s grandson, Liew. Axelle and I spent a solid forty-five minutes attempting to teach Mae Wanna, Liew, and Mae Wandee how to play not just ordinary Uno but Uno Flip, which probably made teaching ten times harder along with inaccurate translations back and forth. However, by the end of those forty-five minutes, we were all (kind of) playing a coherent Uno game. Now, Uno is played every night Liew is at Mae Wanna’s.

This past week has flown by. Between the crazy Google Translations from “Tonight is not a good night for the children to cook” to “What special abilities does she have?” there is never a dull moment with Google Translate. Axelle and I have also been joining the dance group (almost) every night, where we learned a Thai dance that lasts for what seems like forever. I have also taught some of the moms and the group how to do the Cotton Eye Joe, which I have come to realize also seems to last forever. Most days, in the morning, I will go biking with Brandy, Brandy’s host family, and (depending on the day) others from the cohort, where we bike up to the reservoir and then usually walk part of it, if not all of it.

Now that we have been in Huai Lan for a week, it is hard to believe I was ever nervous about living here. There are no words to describe getting to know my new family and just observing how much they really care. My heart and my stomach are always full. I genuinely could not ask for more. I know there will be so many more moments of laughter and warmth, but being here has helped me to stop and enjoy every small moment, and that in itself is a gift.

by Yeili

As I sit in the common area, surrounded by the soft sounds of crickets and music in thai, I’ve been reflecting on my first week in Huai Lan with Mae Tim. I didn’t realize how much I needed a home-cooked meal or how comforting it would feel to be in a space filled with the warmth of family.

I remember one of our first days in Thailand, when Hannah read a YAK post about homestays. The student wrote about how their host family reminded them of their family back home. I didn’t fully understand it then, but now I do. That’s exactly how I feel here in Huai Lan.

From the very first dinner with Mae Tim, Na Noo, Na Wan, Pi Tai, and Pi Dtor, I felt something familiar, a rhythm, a sense of belonging. Like my home, Mae Tim’s house is always full of people, and I love it. There’s nothing that makes me happier than sitting around a full table, hearing everyone talk and laugh, sharing stories about their day. Back home, every Sunday my mom, her sisters, and their husbands come together to eat, sing, and dance. It’s not so different here, where after dinner we often dance for an hour with Mae Tim’s friends and sister-in-law. The joy, the teasing, the shared energy, it all feels so much like home.

Mae Tim reminds me so much of my mom a strong, steady woman who shows her care through the smallest things. I feel like one of her own children when she quietly turns on the fan so I don’t melt from the heat or when she serves me fish, carefully making sure there are no bones left. Na Noo and Na Wan bring the same warmth and humor as my aunts and uncles back home, whenever they walk in, the whole house lights up with laughter. I can feel Pi Dtor and Pi Tai’s deep love for their mother too, the same kind of care that keeps families close no matter where you are.

This weekend, Na Noo and Na Wan took me to visit a nearby temple. We teased each other about there being a buffet afterward, and I couldn’t help but think of my uncles and aunts back home, how they always joke, feed me too much, and make me feel loved in a hundred small ways.

Here in Huai Lan, I’ve realized that love, family, and connection don’t need to share a language to be felt. Each person in this house looks out for one another with the same tenderness and laughter that fill my home back in Illinois. And in that, I’ve found a kind of home away from home.

by Syd & Avery

Syd:
When the group first visited IMPECT we were told to be “flexible” and get used to being on “Thai time”. I was a little nervous because as most of the people who know me know that if I am on time I am late and I always have to have some kind of schedule for my day. However, IMPECT has helped me be okay with doing whatever the days takes me to do and the time things I am still working on but am improving at least a little bit.

One of the highlights has been going to a Karen village for the day and learning about the traditions and work that IMPECT is doing in villages. The village itself was actually in Chiang Rai and took a solid three hours to get to. The roads were bumpy to say the least as Yelli, P’Deang, and I all were thrown off our seats periodically as we got closer to the village. When we finally got to the village we were of course offered food. As Yelli and I sat there eating our Avocado and Honey I took in the scenery and the smiling faces that continued to welcome us. Then we were given more food and then lunch. One of my favorite memories is asking P’Nii’s son in Thai if he wanted to play a game. We played Rock, Paper, Scissors, but unfortunately for me I don’t know how to say any of those words in Thai so we just counted to three before we showed our Rock, Paper, or Scissors.

We were then shown around the village and a massive river which we learned was protected. That is when I met another young boy from the village who really liked his squid toy. My minimal Thai had somehow entertained him as he followed Yelli and I back to the place where we had lunch. As Yelli and I were standing there the boy yells “ฝรั่ง” which means Westerner and Yelli and I start dying laughing as a women tells him to call us “P”.

We ended our day by listening in on the presentation to the head villagers about an app that can help track biodiversity within the villages. It was really fascinating to see in real time how IMPECT was collaborating with the village to track biodiversity so that it could later be presented to emphasize that Indigenous People of Thailand are caring for the forests not harming them. After being begged to stay we departed and started our three hour trip back while of course sharing snacks between each other.

I sat in P’Deang’s truck absolutely exhausted but also incredibly grateful for the opportunity I just had. It was amazing to see the work IMPECT was doing in person and seeing the village come together to help make change. I loved getting to know the village (and the food) and there was never a moment where I did not feel like I was not welcomed. Rather I was welcomed with open arms even by the children. When I got back to Doodle my brain was fried but in a good way. I had spent much of the day speaking Thai and I was so thrilled. Even though it was a short trip I felt like I improved my Thai, learned about the work IMPECT does, and could not wait until I had another opportunity to visit another village.

Avery:

I have had the privilege of working at Maetha Organic, a collection of farmers who have dedicated themselves to sustainable agriculture practices and bringing organic products from the ground to the market. Our duties at Maetha encompass a wide range of activities. On any given day we will assist in a variety of activities from planting seeds and weeding, to setting tables, catering to guests, and preparing materials for a presentation at the local school. Every day is an adventure and no matter how sleepy I am from the hour long car ride, I find that my duties are both fun and fulfilling, making them an irreplaceable part of my day. And the fun isn’t limited to when we’re on the clock. The staff at Maetha are lovely company and habitually treat us to various snacks such as homemade banoffee and chocolate pudding, matcha, and popsicles to name a few. Our lunch breaks are always graced with delicious food with the local khao soi spot being a fan favorite. After lunch, I typically spend the rest of our generous break playing ping-pong with my partner before heading back outside to finish up for the day. I’ve found the time I’ve spent at Maetha to be a priceless part of my routine. In assisting at Maetha I feel I’ve gained a great deal of insight and appreciation for the work that it takes to create sustainable organic produce. Beyond that, every day at Maetha has been a blast and I will have many fond memories of my time there that I will continue to cherish well into the future.

by Axelle

I can’t believe I’m already halfway through the Civic Semester. My interview still feels like yesterday, me nervously smiling through the screen, trying to imagine what this journey would be like. Yet here I am, reflecting on all that I’ve accomplished so far.

Two weeks ago, before we moved from the city to the village, I was honestly nervous. I didn’t know how to ride a bicycle, and I had already heard from our instructors that in the village, biking would be our main way to go anywhere. In my head, I had already decided that I’d just stay home whenever my peers went anywhere.

Then came the second day in the village. Our instructors lined up all the bikes, one for each of us. When they handed me mine, I couldn’t help but laugh and wonder what they were thinking since I had made it very clear in the pre-program survey that I couldn’t ride. But they stayed behind with me, patient and encouraging, and taught me little by little.

By the end of the day, I could actually ride. I mean, sure I hit two trees in my friend’s yard (sorry, trees), but I was riding! And now, guess who bikes uphill to the reservoir every morning? That’s right—me.

Learning to ride a bike might sound simple, but for me, it meant stepping out of my comfort zone and proving to myself that it’s never too late to learn something new. I learned that when I say “I can’t,” what I really mean is “I can’t YET.” My instructors’ belief in me helped me see that difference.

That’s the same mindset I bring to my Thai class every Monday and Wednesday.

As I look ahead to the second half of the semester, I want to keep saying yes to new challenges. I want to connect even more deeply with my host family, get better at speaking Thai, and keep showing up for every opportunity that scares me just a little bit because that’s where all the magic happens.

by Kaliyah and Yeili

Yeili <3
Saturday:
I was so excited when we stepped foot into the community center in Huai Lan. All the mothers looked very excited. I was nervous and had already done my research (looked into last year’s Yak board) and knew who my host mother was. Settling into Mae Tim’s house was great but new to me. I have never done a homestay before, so I was definitely very nervous about the language barrier and my bad Thai. Once I got there Mae Tim showed me around and let me settle down. I am a shy person at first, so the first day was a big challenge for me. Mae Tim and I had dinner together and a lot of women showed up and began practicing a traditional northern dance called Fon Leb. They invited me to dance with them and with my two left feet I tried learning the dance.

Sunday:
I woke up early in the morning and Mae Tim and I headed to the Reservoir and met Na Noo there. We walked 4 km around the reservoir. There were no more mushrooms to pick, but we got lucky and found two. Mae Tim was very excited and let me pick them first. In the afternoon Mae Tim invited me to the Temple to see her and her friends dance Fon Leb. It was one of the most beautiful traditions I have seen. We had a “buffet” in the temple and had various foods a lot of locals brought. We spent another evening dancing, but a more upbeat song.
The first few days in Huai Lan have been heart warming. Although it’s been a couple of days with Mae Tim, I have gotten comfortable and attached to her. She really does treat me as one of her daughters. Now, being away during excursion, I miss her and Na noo. I can feel the caringness from Mae Tim and her family, which makes me feel extremely loved and comfortable. Her home cooked meals are great, and I can tell she cooks with so much love. Na noo’s patience in teaching me the same simple steps for three days has shown me how patient I need to be. Homestay is definitely a unique experience and new for me, but I’m excited to see what other adventures and experiences we will have in Huai Lan.

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Kaliyah <3

Excited. Nervous. Engaged. Curious. Reflective. Hopeful. Cautious. Open. Adapting. Walking. Running out of nervousness. Walking again. Smiling. Waving–oops, bowing. Gazing.

Glancing.

Communicating with and without words.

There’s nowhere else we’d rather be at this moment.

Apart from the lovely rice fields hugged by the mountains frequently captivating me, my attention was fully on the situation at hand–we have just arrived in Huai Lan, our residing village in mountainous rural Thailand. I loved the city, but I’m looking forward to embracing the slow and neighborly motions of a region I’ll come to love. I was offbeat about the welcome tradition–tying cotton bracelets around our wrists as a sign of protection and embrace from the village, but the motives brought much comfort. A few bowls of traditional Northern Thai food and upbeat P’Bo translations, we are each matched with our mother–sounds strange to say, and yet accurate. I can’t tell all the aspects yet, but I know I couldn’t have matched with anyone other than my Mae Ausa.

10,000 miles away from home, yet staying with her area near the village center prompts the most welcoming experience so far into the program. My family had their genuine concerns mixed with their reasonable but incomplete interpretations of homestays, suggesting their single story view of northern Thailand. But between the smile from Mae Ausa, the quick escort to get home, and the onset of us cooking dinner as the start of our tradition was more eye–opening than any words could have prepared for.

So far, I’ve been speaking conversational Thai well while practicing a bit of written letters for fun. A fun challenge for me in growing is communicating with my Mae, whose English is limited but patience is endless. She listens kindly as I stumble through tones–since “maa” could mean horse, dog, or “come here,” and I rarely know which one I’ve just said. Thankfully we’re often able to laugh it off and playfully joke about how some words, such as strawberry and sa-dtaw-buh-rîi, are not so different from each other, just as we are.

It’s been just over a week, and yet I feel connected to my Thai family more than I could have imagined at this point. There are many times where our dining room/kitchen/living room is filled with laughter and other times, more serious and heartfelt moments such as reminiscing over late, close family members. But whether in my own home or at the reservoir or community center where we met nearly everyday the first week to learn/teach Thai dance and line–dancing, I will say that I am gratefully in a place where I can step outside of my comfort zone with more eagerness each morning.