A hole in my door: Not your usual Friday night

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.  Or at least crazier.  Especially in Thailand. 

It started like an ordinary Friday evening. I finished work and walked home, looking forward to a relaxing night, thinking I would put the baseball game on while I folded and put away clean laundry.  My helper comes on Fridays, so I would come home to a clean house and a drying rack full of clothes.  And then I went to put my key in the door. 

I should back up.  My front door has always annoyed me greatly.  Most doors in my apartment complex have a door lock and dead bolt.  Mine doesn't have a deadbolt, but instead it has a metal gate/screen door that has the potential to be padlocked shut.  My landlord thinks it keeps me safer.  I think it's ugly, and it gets in the way.  I call it The Stupid Door. One of the worst things about The Stupid Door, and it's a bit hard to understand this without seeing it in action, is that if you leave your key in the lock and push the door and Stupid Door open simultaneously, The Stupid Door will move across the lock in a such a way that it bends your key or worst case scenario, break it off in the lock.  You have to remove your key from the lock before pushing them open, or just reach through The Stupid Door to push the big door open before opening The Stupid Door.  

I've bent a few keys in it in my day, and two years ago when people were staying here over the summer, one broke off in the lock.  But at that point, the door is open, since it happens as you walk in. They called a locksmith, the door knob was replaced, no big deal.  

Which brings me back to today when I arrive home and go to put my key in the lock and discover it has a broken off key in it.  

I knock because I assume that even though my helper's shoes aren't outside the door, she must still be there if the key is broken, right?  Wrong.  I frantically start calling her, my landlord, and my friend- just in case I need a place to sleep tonight.  No one answers, though I do hear back from my friend quickly so I know at least they are home.  I eventually get through to my helper, who speaks rapid fire Thai at me, of which I understand roughly 10%.  She arrives back 5 minutes later and tells me that she didn't realize what had happened until I called and told her.  I want to give her the benefit of the doubt because I know she's not the most observant person in the world, as evidenced by some clean-but-not-so-clean issues I've had with her lately, but I'm really not sure how you can break a key in a lock and not notice.  

At any rate, I'm in a bind, and she feels bad.  I post a picture of my door knob pickle to a community Facebook page in hopes that someone will know something about picking locks, or breaking into Parkland apartments, or at least the number for a good locksmith.  Meanwhile, my next door neighbor has a couple chaangs (maintenance guys, workers, technicians, etc) working at her place and my helper asks one of them to help.  He comes over to take a look, poor sap.  

For the next 45 minutes he tries to pick the lock, break the knob, drill holes in the knob and chisel/pry the knob out of the door.  None of it is successful, in part because, you guessed it, The Stupid Door is in the way and they can't get to the door knob well.  The entire time, I'm standing there quickly melting into a puddle of sweat in my work clothes while my helper frets about.  The building guard comes up to see what's going on since he can see what we're doing on the security camera.  He hasn't got any brilliant ideas either, at least as far as I can tell, since I haven't studied a word of Thai in 18 months and don't understand anything anyone is saying.  

After about a hour, the chaangs (another guy from next door has now joined us, and the neighbor comes out from time to time to try and help) and the guard communicate to me via charades that they think our best bet is to drill a large hole in the door and reach in and unlock it that way.  But they want to be really sure that I know what they are doing and give the okay before they do it.  Truth be told, I had no idea if that was the best plan and had no one to bounce the idea off. My landlord was still not answering her phone and no one around me spoke English. I know nothing about locks and nothing about what to do  in such a situation. So I took deep breath, nodded, and gave the okay to drill. 

At this point, though very frustrated, I'm also slightly glad that it's this hard to break into my apartment. Maybe I don't need that deadbolt after all. 

Ten minutes, a drill, and a hammer later, we make it through the door. The chaang reaches through the door but the inner part of the knob is no longer intact so it won't unlock.  

I reach through and try- no luck.  After much hammering and banging we eventually get it done and the door swings open.  

End of story?  Nope.  

We make it in the door and straight away my helper starts cleaning up the pieces of lock and door and piles of saw dust. I go next door and pay the guy for his help.  When I get back, my helper closes the door to sweep behind it.  And then she realizes.  A piece of the lock is still in the door, and now it's locked shut. With no door knob. And no way out.  

She starts panicking.  Oddly enough, I'm not overly worried. If there is one thing I have learned from being caught in bad/strange/whatever situations, it is that they always end somehow.  I grab my IKEA toolbox and start trying to pry the bit of lock out, hoping my helper doesn't have a meltdown. She calls her family and tells them she's locked in on the 6th floor and can't get out.  

A bit earlier, I received a phone call from a kind friend/neighbor who had seen my post on the Facebook page and wanted to make sure I had found help and was getting in.  At the time we were nearly in, but I was still grateful for his kindness in checking. Now though I called him back and told him the situation. Within minutes he was outside my door with better tools than I what I had, talking with me through the hole in the door, and working to get the bit of lock out.  Which he did.  We were free.  

After he left my helper apologized profusely, while sobbing and hugging me. I really think she thought she'd be here all night.  

And now, a piece of paper covers the holes while all the inside bolts are done, and The Stupid Door is latched shut.  I feel plenty secure for tonight, and tomorrow I will get a padlock and finally make use of the padlock option on The Stupid Door. 

A different chaang came just now with my landlord, declared the large Hulk-like hole completely unnecessary and will get a new door this weekend and install in on Monday morning. While I had no trouble holding it completely together (and even say a few mai bpen rai's) through the entire ordeal, I definitely lost it after my landlord and the new chaang left. These are the moments when I just want to live in a country where I understand people, where I know how the system works, where my parents or brothers or uncles are just a phone call away.  But instead I'm here, in the middle of a circus, sometimes flourishing and sometimes floundering. 

Fluttering on Fences: missing places

How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you- you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences- like rags and shreds of your very life. - Katherine Mansfield 

Some places just stick with you, even if your tenure there was brief. They come to you in your dreams, or spring up when you least expect it, give you pause, take you back, and leave you longing to walk their streets or hills one more time.  Lately, Argentina and Scotland have been doing that to me.  Even though Michigan is my home and is more deeply rooted, it doesn't cling to the corners quite so much because I am able to visit so often.  

Last week the cobbled streets of my San Isidro neighborhood sprang to life in a voice text sent to me by a dear friend there.  The sounds of Spanish, and not just any Spanish but Argentine Spanish and her voice. I wanted to see her, I wanted to be there, from a place deep within me.  A few days later I saw a picture on Facebook of an aquaintence hiking in Scotland and the damp hills and sharp breeze caught me off guard.  It's been nearly 13 years since I left, and I was only there for 6 months. You'd think I'd be over it by now!  

Some days, when the intense Bangkok sun beats down or I navigate the piecemeal sidewalk that separates my apartment complex from ICS, I am tempted to think that I just want to get out of here, I remind myself of those longings for the places I no longer call home.  I remind myself that someday I will feel that way about this place, too. Someday I will miss the dilapidated elevator in my building or the pounding of my upstairs neighbor making som tam for dinner, again.  Some day I will miss the small things that make up life here. So I take a deep breath, wipe the sweat from my face, and let a piece of me flutter on the fence as I walk by. 

A day off during a busy season

One of my favorite things about living and working abroad are all the random days off that are sprinkled throughout the year.  I'm not sure if Argentina and Thailand really have that many more of these days than the US does or if I just notice them more since I don't expect them, celebrate them, or have anything I need to do on them.  I love Memorial Day, for example, but it doesn't have the same time of freedom that a random Tuesday off does.  As much I miss the family gatherings on such secondary holidays, not having anything to do and having them fall in the middle of week makes them such delectable little treats.  

Today, in honor of Coronation Day, I slept in, had a lovely tea and quiet time, cleaned and organized my house, went out to lunch, bought groceries, made granola, and had afternoon tea with a good book. I'm even getting a change to blog, and it's still just 4:00! Like I said, delectable little treats, they are :)  

It is a welcome repreive from the May Madness that settles over international schools each year.  In the weary last month of a school year we cram in concerts, banquets, visa appointments, graduations, a clothing exchange, and any number of end of the year events in addition to farewells for those who are leaving, garage sales for us to buy what they're leaving behind, and the general wear and tear that is a part of the end of any school year.  I usually board that plane in early June completely exhausted to the core, but this year I am bound and determined to have something left in the gas tank at the end.  I'm being more proctective and selective with my time and energy than usual. We'll see how well it works...

At work I've been busy with all the usual middle school stuff, as well as doing everything I can to get things done for K4. I've scoured the garage sales for gently used toys that the room needs, in addition to some teaching and organizational supplies.  I've got some of my things ready for Open House and the first day of school.  It's been a lot of fun, and has confirmed to me that I made the right decision in the switch. 

Coming home from garage sales last Saturday. We filled my front basket with stuff, hooked the baskets on bought onto the front and bike of the bike, threw everything else into a huge Ikea bag for Karly to carry, and we were on our way!  Intending only to go a few blocks to the nearest moto taxi stand, we were having too much fun and I drove us all the way to Karly's house.  

The start of the rains has meant lots of really impressive sunsets, which I've been able to enjoy while getting down time on my nights in. 

I ordered some things, including the cute shirt he's wearing, for my nephew a while ago and had them delivered to my mom's house.  My mom and sister opened them with me via Facetime while they were there this past weekend.  Little Man is growing so fast that I thought she better open them before I get home (one month from today)! I simply adore this solemn little guy and can't wait to meet him!  

Just What the Doctor Ordered

Vacations are a funny thing, especially vacations when you live overseas. Travel is wonderful, but being a tourist is not generally relaxing. Sometimes it's nice to have a vacation where you actually come home more rested than you were when you left. For that reason, I often prefer to be when I am on vacation than to do. Often easier said than done. 

This week, however, I managed to do just that. I came to northern Thailand with friends for a few days. We stayed at a homestay near the Laos border, a little more than an hour outside the city of Chiang Rai and it has been absolutely perfect. The house has nice spacious rooms and a courtyard with a pool and a peaceful fountain. In the mornings we've taken excursions and spent the afternoons napping, reading, and swimming. On one excursion we did a short hike to a cliff at the Laos border, looking down into a Hmong village nestled in the valley below. All of our meals are included in our stay and the food has been delicious, and always accompanied by local fruit, including the melt in your mouth mangoes that are in season right now. In the evenings, after a post dinner walk and when my friends put their toddler to bed, we have been able to sit and talk over wine and chocolate before curling up in super comfortable beds. 

It's been a few days of sleep, rest, good conversation, a good book, and fun and laughter that leaves me feeling rested, renewed, and refreshed. God's blessings again, overflowing in abundance. 

Views on our evening walks. 

Waterfall walk in a national park 

Border marker, I'm in Laos! 

Hiking with a view of Laos.

View from my poolside beach chair. Gonna miss this...

Abundantly blessed

Admittedly, my blog posts aren't always the most, upbeat, exactly.  It's hard sometimes when you're a bit of a pessimist, or as my friend says, a practical realistic pessimist.  I'm generally much better at calamity than hope.  But this blog post isn't about the weight of the world or the intermingled joy and struggle of serving abroad or the heartbreaking realities of life around us.

This past week I was booking some flights, again.  I have done that a lot lately.  In the past few months I've booked flights to Singapore (I went for a weekend in March), to the US for the summer, and to Chiang Rai (in northern Thailand) for later this week.  This week I got tickets to go to central and northern California in July to spend time with friends and relatives.  And now that that itinerary is in place, I am working on the dates in June to go see my brother in New York.  Right around when I hit the button to finalize the purchase last week, it hit me.  I am so abundantly blessed.  

And not just by air travel, which I actually enjoy less and less every year (though my love of the people on the other side of flights keeps me at it), but by many many blessings that factor in and make the travel possible.  I started reflecting on the myriad of gifts that I have been given and am trying to spend time just appreciating them and recognizing them.  

I have a great job, which I enjoy and which allows me to openly serve and teach about God.  I have friends and family in many places who welcome me with open arms whenever I have opportunities to visit.  I get to live in a beautiful foreign country where the cost of living is low enough that I can afford luxuries like travel.  I work in an industry where I have extended time off every year to back to the States- I don't think I could do life here otherwise.  I have good friends here to travel with.  I have several "shorter" times off during the year to explore this part of the world.  I have family members who spend considerable time each summer shuttling me to and from the airport.  I have friends here who are like family. My sister sends me daily photos and videos of my nephew. 

Okay, that last one has nothing to do with my travel, but it's a pretty great blessing all the same.  It's always easy for me to look at life as half empty- rest assured life here is just daily life and carries all of the usual ups and downs of life on planet earth.  I complain about my aching back (which has been particularly bad lately since I haven't been working out and thus stretching enough) and other minor ailments, even though I'm generally healthy. I sigh and keep walking right past the dirty dishes in the sink, too tired to care.  I get lonely living here on my own, even in the midst of much coveted down time. I worry about the future and the when and what next- when the ink isn't even dry on my newest contract yet.  I look at daily life and see absent friends who have moved on to other adventures, instead of seeing the faces of the newer friends who have walked into my life this year, who I want to get to know more.  

Truth is, life isn't half empty, nor even just barely full. My cup runneth over.  But not because it's perfect or never stressful or lonely or any of those other things I often focus on.  God has been incredibly gracious in many tangible gifts, but also in the gift of himself.  While I certainly enjoy the many ways that God has blessed me recently, I am even more grateful for ways he has grown my knowledge and understanding of him. This season of lent was particularly beneficial in seeing areas of sin that needed to be dealt with and ways that I had not fully been acknowledging or accepting his grace, not really believing and living that la vida eterna starts now.  The other blessings might not feel so "blessed" without that bit.  So yeah, even in the midst of many normal every day struggles of life, I can see that I do live a great life and serve a great God. And for that, I am so very thankful. 

A Poem

Yesterday, as I rode my bike to drop some things off at a friend's house, I started writing this poem in my head. I shared it on facebook, but I thought it might make a good blog post too. 

My bike inches 

slowly behind as traffic 

writhes and wriggles it's way

down the soi of many 

names: Market Street,

Soi Prem, Ha Baht Road, though

no one calls it that anymore since

Sib Baht Road doesn't roll

off the tongue

in the same way.

We slither along to

the sounds of som tam and curry

paste, wafts of coconut rice and

fried chicken, the array of produce a sea

of color in the evening sun. 

The woman in front of me 

has several dozen eggs

strapped to the back 

of her moto. Are they

hard boiled? I doubt it,

she creeps along, slower 

even than I. Rush

hour on the back roads 

in Bangkok. 

Terrified excitement

It's been a busy week for a lot of reasons and I haven't been feeling great and as a result I've slept roughly 22 of the past 48 hours.  And something tells me I'll still go to bed on time tonight.  And while I know for some of you that sounds like absolute heaven (and believe me, to a degree, it is) it's also increibly frustrating for me.  It's the in-your-face reminder of my limits, which in this particular area, are somewhat "closer in" than most peoples.  It's the reminder that I can't quite keep up and can't quite do what "everyone else" does.  And of course, I hate that. [and yes, my thyroid levels and meds are frequently checked and that is not the problem here] 

In the past few weeks my efforts to prepare for my new position in K4 have stepped up quite a bit. I'm spending time every week observing the K4 and K5 classrooms, making lists of what I need and then trying to figure out where and how to get it all, going through storage to sort through the items from the last time the school had two K4 classrooms.  Thinking and and scheming and dreaming and planning for my classroom next year is taking a greater role in my life and it is soooo fun and exciting and terrifying all at once.  

It's scary to leave something that you know you're good at to challenge yourself with something that you think you could be equally as good at, but that is also quite new and the experience you do have is some years ago.  But mostly what terrifies me is not whether or not I'll enjoy it (I've worked enough with the age group to know that I will) nor whether or not I'll hold my own to do a decent job (I have mentors and examples past and present who have taught me so much). No, what terrifies me is that it will absolutely suck the life out of me and leave me dead on the floor.  

I know that in the first weeks and months I am going to have to be kind to myself and not expect too much out of myself outside of the work day.  I know that I am going to have to learn how to better control my intensity and energy output during the day instead of getting so into it that I'm spent by lunch time.  I know that there will always be days when I practically crawl home- that even happens now.  But my prayer is that I will be able to manage and pace myself and seek moments of solitude at lunch and otherwise care for my introverted self in ways that do not cost me my entire social life and routine.  Weekends like this make me nervous because they remind me that it doesn't take much to completely wipe me out and send me into hibernation mode, but in the same breath I am so filled with hope and joy and plans for next year that I am determined to make it work.  One day at a time.