PART 2--- A DAY IN THE LIFE OF...
Some days I wake up to the sounds of children screaming in the hallway outside my door; some days I wake up to the sounds of children singing in the next room as they prepare for morning meditation; most days I wake up to the rapping of Chocolate (15 years old) knocking on my door wanting special computer time, Lochoy (18) wanting to borrow the guitar in my room, and/or Thar Gyi (15) not asking permission to hang out in my room for the day.
7:30-8:30 am is my quiet time. Thar Gyi helps to boil water and fix a coffee for me while I hang my laundry to dry, get dressed and brush my teeth in the bathroom. By the time I come out of the bathroom he's made himself comfortable and invited one or two of his closest friends inside (today it is Treeda, 14 years old) and they both play quietly with my Ipod (listening to Akon of course) while I check my emails and write back to friends and family on Facebook.
I spend most mornings sitting and working from a woven mat thrown on the floor while the kids play nicely in a circle around me; each of them looking after my Thai comic books, papers, coloring books, cameras, and music players. Around 9:30 am my room swells from 2-3 kids to 7-8 kids of all shapes and sizes, enjoying some downtime if they are free from school or work duties; all of them scrunched and crowded in front of my traveler netbook mini-screen watching the latest downloaded Charlie Chaplin flick or You-Tube music video.
9:30-11:30 am I leave the older kids in charge of my room and run errands for Didi and the volunteers who are just starting their work day. The tasks always vary: writing thank you letters to fundraisers and sponsors; answering emails; designing letterheads and document templates; documenting photos and bi-yearly updates of the children; etc. Today I was in charge of working with the kids to collect, bag and weigh rice, sort clothes, weave grass thatch roofing and buy cooking oil to be donated to Burmese refugees in the border camps; this is part of Baan Unrak's weekly commitment to community relief work in the area.
Some days I am at the mercy of the kids and their desired schedules: help them check out books from our bare library; take long walks to the market; teach ballet and help our yoga troupe rehearse; lead bicycle trips to the neighboring village; and treat Chandra (16 years old) and Atitaya (13) to sweet iced cocoas from the local cafes.
11:30 am-12 pm. Lunch. And just like every typical school cafeteria, this is the best time to catch up on all the gossip. Most days the gossip is fun, teenage drama I'm happy to be done with, however today's gossip isn't so nice...one of the girls had money stolen from her room, and we all suspect the same boy. We are prisoners of our suspicion, and we all hate the reminder that not every kid and young mind can be reached for good here at the home. We all must soldier on though, and hope to give the best to the ones we can reach out to.
12-1 pm I have my private Thai/guitar lesson with Lochoy. He's incredibly patient, teaching me chords and strumming, and he has decided we must meet every day so he can 'control me.' His words, not mine. He's quickly figured out that I am lazy to practice on my own (something my old violin teacher must remember vividly!) We do this lesson entirely in Thai, and I get a not-so gentle smack on the arm or shoulder when I forget and speak in English. (The smacking has recently continued outside of the classroom as he has now decided I must only speak Thai to him, 24 hours a day.) Lochoy is the oldest boy at the home, and I think he enjoys our time together if only because he gets time away from the other kids. Our guitar time is like a sanctuary for us both, a small 'time-out' from the chaos outside the classroom walls. I'm thinking of how I can repay him...maybe some private 'computer tutoring' sessions, and an excuse to even the odds when he starts making mistakes.
1-4 pm my morning work tasks continue, and the kids in my room usually includes a few more regulars. Samoella (8 years old), Dipti (10), Kaisaou (13), Kammadsi (12), Matoo (12) and Faith (14) come in to keep me company at random intervals and usually fall asleep in a confusing human pile of legs and arms, each head trying to squeeze onto the one small pillow I keep on the floor for them when they come to nap.
3 pm. On a day like today, if I've been working with the kids since dawn, I'll take an R&R in the afternoon. I will make another coffee, eat some sweets from the market and take some alone time to blog or simply sit in peace and quiet. Right now I got all of 20 minutes to myself before two of the smaller toddlers (Vichay and Apaso) started banging on my door, screaming my name non-stop, making a game of annoying me and testing my patience...punishment and a temper tantrum will surely follow this afternoon when I lock them out of the computer room for the day. Haha!
4-7 pm is where the real madness begins! It's computer time, and I have to monitor the scheduled times and privileges for the small boys, small girls, big boys and big girls respectively. The kids are so naughty! As soon as I turn my back they're hiding in the corners and sneaking in to watch their friends play. More than once I've made the small ones scream and the older ones pissed when I cut them off for not playing nicely. On a really, really lucky day I'm able to share the computer duties with another volunteer, and take the older kids (all 20 of them!) for an evening swim at the local lake-side temple.
7-8 pm...my only other quiet hour. I usually lock myself up in my room while they do meditation and sit quietly. I shower, check my emails and messages again and then take 40 minutes of quiet meditation time for myself. I'll also use this time to finish any projects left over from the day.
8-10 pm...chaos continues. The kids run from the meditation room and knock on my door for 'special computer time' if they've been extra good or working hard on a duty for Didi. So, back to the computer room again while also monitoring the kids watching their evening movie...gotta make sure they're not watching inappropriate scary movies again (the smallest kids cried in their sleep for a week after that day!)
9:30-10:30 pm is Didi time. This is also her only quiet time in the office, and I usually sit for a chat with her about the state of the kids...who's been naughty, who's been nice. Who's been hiding in the dark smoking cigarettes, who's been sneaking out unsupervised, who's been stealing our girl's money? You know, the usual concerns in a children's home with 130 kids plus. This is also the time to catch Didi up on any insights I've made into the kids well-being that day. I'm concerned about one girl not feeling like she has any chance of a good future, having lived in this remote village her whole life...we must work together to provide opportunity for her outside the home, and possibly a part time job earning money at my friend's coffee shop next month.
Didi offers me teachings and meditation techniques during this time, and we usually share dreams and future 'surprise' plans set in motion for the children (holiday season is just around the corner!) I think, more than anything else, she enjoys having another adult around for her to confide in. Happy to help, Didi.
10:30 pm. Lights out, kids in bed. I quickly outline Monday's ballet lesson (what new steps to teach?), wash my feet, start tomorrow's laundry soaking in the wash basin, and climb into bed absolutely exhausted. I read a couple chapters of a book borrowed from the library and hope Mom will be sending me a care package of good books soon!
...and yet, the most common question I get is: "Are you not lonely?" Impossible!
