MicahJohn

After many various adventures (canceled flights, l – o – n – g layovers, and shattered luggage) I have made it safely back to the States.

As my time left in Thailand ticks away I’ve had some great encounters with some folks. Several people have invited me to eat with them giving me an opportunity to say good bye. And on three occasions when I didn’t have a planned meeting with someone, I ran into someone and got to share a meal with them.

On Sunday morning a friend of mine prayed that I’d have a chance to meet up with a friend I hadn’t heard from in a year. Sunday night that friend called. Some things are beyond comprehension.

I spent this past Friday and Saturday recording some Isaan music. It was a good experience. It was my first time recording so many instruments simultaneously. It was also my first time recording music in a non-Western style. Coming from another culture, from a different music aesthetic, I had to be careful not to impose a Western aesthetic on the recording.

I’m still going over the recordings, but you can hear a sample here.

Operating in the Isaan language for two days was fun, though it put a severe draw on the ol’ gray cells. Talking with the drummer, an older blind man, I had the following exchange:

Drummer: “How do the drums sound?”
Myself: “I think they sound great”
Drummer: “Good, because I can’t see and sometimes I miss the drums”

Another benefit of the venture was a few meals worth of Isaan food.

I always love stories. Some of my favorite stories are the stories told to me by people I know in this modern world of times they remember when the world was a very different place. Today I heard such stories.

Aj. Lertluk is one of my most favorite people in Ubon. She teaches where I teach and has been a friend and mother to me. Today we went out for lunch together with some other teachers. After lunch we stopped by the old campus of our school. The school moved about thirty six years ago. The old building is a wooden structure (not a concrete one). The floors, the stairways, the banisters, the classrooms, all seemed to long to tell us their stories. Some of them had a chance to do so through Aj Lertluk.

We learned that 113 year old Benchama (where I teach) was the only 8th-10th grade school for boys in the whole province until just 30 years ago. Benchama had a science program for 11th and 12th grade that was open to both genders. The 8th-10th grade school for girls had a language program for 11th and 12th grade that was open to both genders. The two schools sat on opposite sides of the city park. There was also a teachers college (11th and 12th grade) in town that focused on education.

When Aj. Lerluck was a little girl she lived 40km away from Ubon city so when she finished 7th grade (at the age of 13) she moved into town and lived with friends of her parents to go to the junior high for girls. She remembers crying and crying when she left home. She believes her parents also cried. She was able to get home only once per term. There were no roads and the journey was a hard one that required travel by both cart and raft. There were no telephones.

She stuck it out studying 8th-10th grade at the girls school, then studying at the teachers college before going to University in Bangkok. She then came back to Ubon to teach.

Last night we had a graduation ceremony for my ม3 kids. The ceremony went well. I started to realize that this season is coming to a close. I didn’t really know what to do to end things well.

I was very blessed by my students. I saw clearly that I have made an impact on them. In the speech of thanks from a representative of the student body, I was the teacher mentioned by name. I was given garlands of flowers and asked for a blessing by a number of my students. My homeroom class gave me a class picture in a homemade frame. I’m going to miss these kids.