Arteca Unites Us, Children Dance Project

A couple weeks ago I was introduced to a very handsome man, an Italian with a killer accent named Mauro. He and his friend Fabian recently started a non-profit organization focused on developing creativity and artistic skills for disadvantaged children living in Sangkhlaburi (and throughout SE Asia), appropriately named Arteca.

We met at a small cafe and I admit I was distracted for a while by the way his lips moved when he pronounced the word 'cappuccino'... It took only a few minutes for the small chitchat to idle and the networking to begin. He knew me through a friend of a friend in our small village and was recruiting me as a dance teacher for a few weeks in October while his project was present. He was working out of another children's home in the area, Children of the Forest, and had heard through the wire I had a background in ballet dance.

Here's where I had to laugh a little and put down my coffee...Me, ballet? And teaching? I haven't had a proper ballet class (nor any kind of dance class) in 10 years! He assured me I was more than qualified, saying he planned for just some basic movements at an introductory level, with only a small group of girls interested. OK I said, but on two conditions: one, you allow me to bring my girls from Baan Unrak to also join the class; and two, that the meal served at lunchtime is vegetarian friendly.



So here I am on a shaky bamboo platform, working with a ballet bar made of thick bamboo poles wound tightly together; teaching ballet again after many, many, many, lost years to dance. Another volunteer from Baan Unrak, a German named Steven, also taught a joint hip-hop class with our local dance star Chocolate.

The girls really enjoyed the class, and I'm looking forward to the next sessions. Who knows, maybe it's time to contact some of my old dance friends and convince them to come out here for a few weeks to put on a workshop...hmmmm....sounds pretty good!

I was surprised how easy it was to recall the ballet bar exercises and technique when put on the spot. I guess it's true, the body doesn't forget movement...however, I sure don't remember the pain associated with some of the stretches and I certainly remember being a lot fitter when I was 16 years old!

Baan Unrak Hip Hop Boys Take the Stage!

The Baan Unrak Hip Hop boys are at it again! New dance, new members, new choreography and a new look! [Click here if you missed my last post introducing Taji and Chocolate and their mission to dance to a better future...]

These boys are remarkable and despite their losses (loss of family, loss of home, loss of country) they really stay strong and determined to create something new for themselves.

Enjoy the video!

The Karen minority group invited us to their Christmas celebrations last weekend, timed to celebrate the full moon. There were Christmas songs sung in Thai and Karen dialect, snow cones and frozen juice Popsicles, a bouncing castle for the kids (which we foreigners were denied entrance to due to our 'size'), prayers bestowed by the village leaders, and snacks and presents delivered to the kids by a Karen Santa Clause (chewing beetle nut tobacco and carrying a small machete in his back pocket for extra 'local' charm.)

...Watching them on stage takes me back to the days when I was a competitive dancer. Now almost 8 years since I wore my last pair of ballet slippers. That part of me feels like a past life, rather than the recent history that it is. I almost miss the rehearsals, the nerves and excitement, the costume changes and the pressure of an audience...ALMOST!

Baan Unrak Hip Hop Boys And Their Dreams For A Better Life

The boys at Baan Unrak do regular Hip-Hop shows in and around Sangklaburi and Bangkok (Thailand) to promote the children's home, raise awareness about the issues surrounding children and families living along the Thai/Burmese border and to fund raise every chance they can.

Inspired by the American Hip-Hop group Jabbawockeez, they created their own routine and rehearse themselves every spare moment to get the moves just right! Chocolate, Somchai and Taji all love to dance and have taken to hip hop style and fashion like fiends. (Taji, the smallest one at 13 years old admits he only recently started dancing, less than 1 year ago if you can believe it!)

Chocolate, 14 years old, and the main driving force behind this dance team says he dreams of the day he gets to meet the Jabba boys in person, and even better the day he can perform for them. Talking to Chocolate, I can see the dedication in his eyes and I know he's dreaming of going all the way. Here, keeping the kids inspired for a better life is the most important mission, and to see him stand out and inspire the other children who look up to him is...indescribable.

I'm doing what I can now to help him achieve this dream...at their request they'll be released into the You Tube world soon enough, with polished performances and a number of new dances they're choreographing right now. Maybe someday they will get the fame and attention they're working hard to achieve!

Home Sweet Baan Unrak: Sangkla, Thailand

It’s been two weeks and already it feels like I’ve been back here forever. I’m back at the Baan Unrak Burmese orphanage in the Thai border town of Sangklaburi. You’ve seen the videos and the photos from this region, so you already know the scenery is breathtaking…and soon I'll post videos showing the very best of laughing children, inspiring women and dedicated volunteers who run this home.

I’ve had 10 volunteers under my care these past couple weeks and today is our last day together. Tomorrow morning we have a killer 5 am wake up call and a 7 hour drive through winding mountains to the Bangkok airport where we will say our final goodbyes, and where I pick up my next group. Looking back at our accomplishments we have done some amazing work together! We planted nearly 1000 tomato plants and ladyfinger herbs, we created a paddock for planting 25x35 meters, we spent days repairing the fence work around the home (after we found a hole kids were sneaking out of at night!) and we've cleaned and painted the front of the entire orphanage home, making the face of Baan Unrak brighter and more uplifting for everyone living here.

This place...words are hard to find to describe what this place does to me. Don't get me wrong, it's not all that easy being here. The work is hard: physical hard labor in a burning sun all day; pink eye, stomach bugs and chest infections tend to spread like wildfire; waking up to scorpions in your pillow and poisonous man eating-centipedes on your doorstep is not uncommon; and living for months on end with no meat, no electricity, no hot water, and absolutely no privacy does strange things to your body and soul.

And yet...I swear I have never been happier in my life than the times I have spent here. Maybe the only experience that comes close is when my big brother's first baby born came into this world. So tiny and frail, Cooper looked up at me with eyes full of trust and need...and that is something I continue to see every day from the children here.

When traveling, we realize that it takes time to fall in love. Visiting somewhere once, twice, even three times is not enough to really take it in through the skin. Making connections, understanding your surroundings, and reveling in the rhythm of a place can take years. I've been working with this orphanage for over a year now, but it feels like only recently have I been 'seeing' with a new set of eyes. The day I came back for the first time in many months since being away, I felt my heart swell. My chest physically expanded and I found myself releasing a long slow breath I didn't know I was holding.

Didi, the spiritual leader who runs this home, said the children were waiting for me. As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, I had Zola and Taji in my arms again. The last time I saw Taji was in January, and he was swimming after me as my boat was driving away. He was shouting my name, and trying to keep a strong smile on his face. The day he was finally back in my arms, Taji looked up at me with the biggest grin I've ever seen from him, and said he always knew I would come back. Yeah, I knew it too.

Every morning we start with meditation on the hill at 5 am. We watch the sunrise and chant a mantra the children study every day: Baba Nam Kevalam, which roughly translates to 'love is all around us.' After working hard in the field all day, we break at 3:30pm waiting for the children to come back from school and proceed to play for hours: tug of war, skipping ropes, soccer, and dancing classes (even the big boys want me to teach them ballet!) Evenings we share meals and stories together, and put the little ones to bed before doing a nighttime yoga session. Wake up tomorrow, and do it all again. Weekends are spent doing relief work and bringing medical supplies to the nearby refugee villages, and taking group trips to the local river spot to teach the kids how to swim. No alcohol, no smoking, no meat, no romantic relationships. It's the ultimate detox for life: cleaning your body, cleaning your soul, and filling your day to day life with laughter, happiness and most importantly hope for the future.

Now I'm back, and I'm staying put for at least another 3 months...After that, I don't know. Somehow I'll have to tear myself away. But until then bring on the love, the games, the physical labor and relief work for Burmese women and children who struggle every day in the jungles between Thailand and Burma.

Sangklaburi, Life Along The Thai/Burmese Border

...Right now the situation in Burma remains dire…thousands of people are suffering along the Thai/Burmese border with nowhere to go. Organizations, NGO and Government alike have come together to do as much as they can for the refugees, but the camps are barely able to cope with the numbers of Burmese coming in every day, and supplies are limited.

Yet, despite what’s going on across the Thai/Burmese border 20 kms away Sangklaburi remains to be the quiet, charming, sleepy little town I have always loved it for. Children still go to school, monks study quietly in the temples and women barter and sell their home cooked foods at the market…life carries on.

Feeling inspired, I took a camera around the town looking for smiles. There are so many sad stories every day, but the people here are resilient and determined to carry on. I went to the local temple for some peace and understanding and came across a gang of ‘mini monks’ who instantly brightened my mood. I also spent the afternoon visiting the Burmese Mon and Karen resettlement villages, lending a hand where I could and learning more about the needs of those living day to day along the border.

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....Sangklaburi and The Longest Wooden Bridge in Thailand...

I'm starting to grow roots here in Sangklaburi again. I'll be staying here for the next 3 months with children rescued from the border, and I can honestly say there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be right now.

It's 4 pm now, so the children walk lazily in the heat and stiffness of their school uniforms and chase the chickens down the street as they make their own way home. Motorcycle taxi drivers toot and tease me as they zoom by, and I'm thinking it's time for me to cough up the 1$ it would cost to jump on the back of a bike and escape the humidity! Construction workers lay down their tools and join in a locals' game of football that seems to be a daily occurrence in front of the temple grounds. And all around smiles and polite nods greet me as the locals seem to recognize the 'white girl' that keeps coming back again, and again, and again.

Life surrounds Khao Laem Lake here. This was once the site where 3 rivers joined together, until the 1970's when the Thai government decided to dam the water for better resource management programs in the surrounding villages and provinces. So now, the lake has flooded the lowland valley and the people have adapted their culture to life along a lake---floating village culture.

Villagers meet their needs by fishing in the lake off one-manned motor boats, and building bridges to cross from one side to the other...in fact, the longest wooden bridge in Thailand is found here.

The bridge links the Thai villages to the Mon villages across the lake. The Mon is an ethnic minority group that was once part of a powerful empire in Siam's history. Today, this Mon village is known more as a protective hub for Burmese refugees. This village has been here for years and is now home to several human rights groups caring for the refugees and creating a resistance movement against the military junta across the border. Life on the Mon side is where Burmese culture reigns: the locals still rub their faces with yellow 'tanaka' root to keep away the burning sun, the men don checkered sarongs tied high up on the waist, and chewing beetle nut is more than a past time here...it's a cultural stamp.

Today I chose to visit some of the local sites I haven't seen in a while: the wooden bridge, the streets of the Mon village and the sacred temples and pagodas for the Mon Buddhist population.

**This video was created when I was playing around with my Picasa application...my first attempt ever, so be kind!

Burmese Refugee Relief Work, Thailand 2010

Posted: Aug.2010, Written: Jan.2010






Well, I have officially survived the high school group. 3 weeks traveling with 22 people, all between the ages of 15-17 years old has me more exhausted than I've ever felt before!

The group was great, a great group of kids who really made me laugh every day. They were naughty and constantly asking a million questions (never waiting for the answer!) but they were inspired by everything they saw and did during their time in Thailand. I'm not a teacher, but I know that I touched the lives of each of these kids in some small way or another...so many of them started to cry as we hugged goodbyes at the airport yesterday, and better yet so many of them swore they were going to come back to volunteer again when they turn 21. Some of them really learned something new about themselves.

The kids were incredibly naive and sheltered, so they were challenged every day and pushed way beyond their comfort zones. In three weeks I could see personalities change, and personal growth from these kids which was amazing since university students rarely go through such a quick transformation. I'm proud of our accomplishments together, and looking forward to spending with with high school groups again...despite the sleepless nights and manic running around 24 hours/day!

Our time together at the orphanage was amazing, nearly 100 meters of fence construction was done in 3 days, we painted the home from head to toe (which is a feat for a 4 story building), we started construction of a new volunteer house, we did two days of gardening planting vegetables and banana trees (not as easy as it sounds!), and we did several sessions of English teaching (maths, vocab, arts)...but the real impact was with the relief work.

Feeling inspired after our New Year's meditation ceremony, I asked Didi to let our group get involved in relief work within the local community. We set out the next 3 days building roofs (grass thatched roofs) for a blind lone grandmother, and delivering rice, clothes and medical care to the Burmese refugee camps. I took small groups of 6 at time in the back of a truck to the Thai/Burmese border. We then set off with our Baan Unrak volunteer nursing staff and headed straight into the jungle. To say villages doesn't quite cut it...we were in camps. Small families and spaces cramped together, in the middle of nowhere. A lot of the babies were born to women younger than the high school kids in my group, and a lot of them having been born in the jungle were seriously malnourished and physically deformed. One young boy, 15 years old got caught in a forest fire...all of his skin from head to toe had melted off only a few days ago, so I got in to help re apply ointment and gauze...

I also watched a man die. He had been lying down for 6 months and his stools were pitch black...internal bleeding. He couldn't move, eat, sleep, or pee. For 6 months in this condition, because as a political refugee from Burma he has no rights, no access to anything! When I was there with the nurse, he took one breath and closed his eyes...then he stopped moving. The nurse said she would come back again tomorrow with a car if she can find one and try to get him to a hospital...but we both knew it was too late.

I can't explain too much more...there was a lot more that I saw and did, but it's still processing I think. Leaving Baan Unrak this time was the hardest time yet, and I still haven't come to terms yet with leaving Thailand in general....Australia is sounding worse and worse every day, and I feel like I'm trying to dig my heels in as hard as I can. How can I go to Australia and leave all this? I'm finally doing something with my life, something meaningful and I've finally found something worth fighting for--the preservation of life.

Volunteer at "House of Joy" orphanage, Sangklaburi, Thailand 2009

Posted: Aug.2010, Written: May.2009

PART 1:

I've been in a remote/isolated town called Sangklaburi (straight west from Bangkok, on the Burmese border.) I'm doing volunteer work with my 13 kids, working at a home called Baan Unrak (translates to 'House of Joy.')

We're doing some intense manual labor, building bamboo fences, building cages for the animal sanctuary (geese are nasty buggers!), planting trees and grass, and vegetables since Baan Unrak is almost completely self-sustainable and is able to provide 80% of its own home-grown food.

Baan Unrak is an orphanage home to nearly 150 kids ranging from babies in the nursery to young adults 20-21 years old. They are predominantly ethnic minorities coming from Burma, having escaped persecution and war with the military junta. Most of these kids have been given up by their mothers who no longer feel they can run and keep their babies alive. These mothers flee the border and go to Bangkok in the hopes of dodging Thai immigration and finding work...sadly these women most likely end up in the human trafficking trade and become prostitutes working in the red light district.

A lot of the children are also 'unwanted babies'--babies with obvious birth defects and disabilities who were left at the doorsteps of Baan Unrak. Probably the mothers were too poor to be able to get the medical care their babies need, and hoped Baan Unrak could provide a better life.

The man who was helping us build a perimeter fence today is a Karen villager (ethnic minority highly persecuted in Burma.) He lost his entire family in Burma, since military soldiers got drunk and angry at his people and torched his village to the ground. His wife and daughters were raped and killed, and his baby boys became child soldiers against their will. He managed to escape and yet despite his broken heart and will, still found the hope to live. Now he's a project manager at the home, and he personally helps each new Burmese refugee that makes their way to the home (with or without children.)

The project is not just focused on the children, it welcomes with open arms adults---women who become surrogate mothers to the 'unwanted babies', women who use their handicraft skills and can weave fabrics to be sold in the cities, men who can farm and do construction work and who can become role models for the young boys.

This place truly is a place of love and care, and despite the horrific stories I learn on a daily basis, the children smile and the men and women laugh and tease each other. It's incredible.

PART 2:

Today I finally got a day off, woohoo! After 10 days of manual labor and intensive veggie farming, gardening and planting, and building bamboo fences, and building cages for animal sanctuaries with super-aggressive geese, and painting houses and murals for the baby nurseries...I'm pooped.

I had the whole day planned today, sipping my coffee, reading a newspaper, reading my book under the fan to keep the heat and flies away, and more importantly catching up in about 5 days of work online....as I was strutting to the internet cafe this morning, power was cut in the entire village (again, this usually happens once a day for a few hours.) Only difference is that today, we lost power for nearly 12 hours! 12 hours with no fans, made for miserable heat! The entire village sat their bums out on the concrete road to cool off, just like the stray dogs do on a daily basis.

Thailand, never ceases to amaze me.

Baan Unrak, the orphanage home I'm working with right now is truly a house of love. More and more, every day I realize how lucky we are to have basic things in life like love. The more suffering and pain I come across from those in need, the more determined I am to make something meaningful of my life.

Our project is a community development project, so we're involved in a lot of different projects. What I'm not doing Mom, is teaching though. The children here don't speak Thai, or Burmese...they speak the languages of over a dozen minority dialects...so specialized speech therapists from the government work here to teach them Thai, so that one day these refugees will be able to pass the Thai exam to gain citizenship and enroll in the free public school system.

I was working in the nursery yesterday, helping my students paint murals around the babies' cribs. We painted an underwater theme, with bright colors, hoping to increase morale for the babies and their surrogate mothers. These babies, all only a few months old were abandoned at the orphanage with HIV/AIDS. Their mothers, trying to cross safely into Thailand were sucked into the human trafficking industry, where as prostitues they contracted HIV/AIDS. Unable to provide for their babies (since only Thai citizens have access to the government provided free health care), they left them here hoping their children can have a chance at happiness.

I'm constantly being blown away by this place. Sangklaburi itself is magical; a sleepy town tucked in between mountains where the waterfalls form rivers, and the rivers merge into lakes in every direction...you feel almost like you're on an island. I've taken on a new admirer. He's 7 years old (we guess). His father, a Karen villager was a horrible abuser--he even branded his son's wrist with a hot iron to punish him. His mother smuggled him out, and is hiding with him at the home. He's the new guy, and he never went to school so he can't communicate with the other children yet, so he's terribly shy. For some reason, he's drawn to me.

He comes to visit me every working day, and runs down the steps to jump into my arms every time he sees me coming. He craves physical contact, always holding hands and hugging my legs every chance he gets. I've grown quite attached myself, and I know already that saying goodbye to him will be a hard blow. I'll miss his love so much, and I hate knowing that I won't be able to communicate my goodbyes to him...I don't know what I'm going to do. I think it's safe to say, that after living in an orphanage with over 150 children, I'm no longer afraid of little people :)

I already know that this season will be a huge time for me to grow as a person. My adventures as a project leader, leading community development and conservation projects are going to be priceless lesons learned about my life, and my place in this world.