Catapulted to motherhood

Yelloooo brave soldiers!

Greetings, once again, from the uproariously large, claustrophobic, crowded, and, dare I say it... beautiful city of Bangkok.

I find myself here a second time in two weeks to attend a conference on human trafficking. At such conferences as these I find my head exploding with ideas throughout the day, be it through a conversation with an individual with similar interests, during a lecture, or chowing down on some coconut-curry soup. At these moments I want to suddenly jump up and down with excitement about some strange or brilliant thought that comes through my head and feel much like I've just drank three cups of coffee and cannot sit still. Does this happen to you? Please say yes.

Needless to say the information and thought-provocation that occurs at these things is priceless, more so than any mastercard ad I've seen yet.

I'd now like to redirect your attention to another subject, however. That of motherhood.

Yes, motherhood. It seems I have become one. No, no, there are no pregnancies involved, just a process of growing ever closer to my incredible, delightful, stupendous students. True, many of them are older than me, and true, many of them are just as much a doting parent to me as I am to them, but still I can't seem to help laughing when they laugh, crying when they cry, swelling with pride when they overcome difficult situations, and raging with anger when they throw away an opportunity. In fact, in just the two nights I have spent away from them I have stopped myself from calling them to check on them on various occasions, reassuring myself that it will only be a few more nights away from these darling babies.

I think it may be fitting to first update you on who these people are and why they are so incredible. I work with 14 (formerly 15, but one recently left for Burma where she is negotiating a marriage proposal-- a difficult subject that deserves a blog entry itself) citizens of Myanmar (which I regularly refer to as its former name, "Burma"). They are all of the Mon ethnicity (there are 8 major ethnicities in Burma, all seeming to want self-determination, making things very difficult...) and are from the Mon and Karen States in Burma. They have exhausted all education opportunities provided them by the Burmese military junta government(including university-- which all agree is totally corrupt and leaves them with what is still considered a very poor education by Western standards) and are now in a "post-ten" (after grade 10) school created by the Mon State Education Department. This "post-ten" school is located in the jungle, in a place where electricity is nonexistent and mosquitoes reign supreme (all my students except for one have had malaria). The Mon Women's Organization, working with the Mon Education Department, bring the students to study in Thailand, quite close to the border of their country, so that a native-English speaker can teach them (ahem... Laura).

Unfortunately, I cannot give the bucket-load of details I would like, due to security reasons for many involved, but it is safe to say that the students are making many sacrifices to be here in Sangkhlaburi studying with yours truly.

My students come from a place where they do not have the rights to which we are so happily accustomed in the U.S. and other Western countries. Simplicities of infrastructure, health, education, gender, and economic rights-- to name just some of the areas involved-- are not granted to my students or their families. Many have spent time in refugee or resettlement camps, and many have felt imminent danger. Many have moved due to attacks on their villages by the military junta. Many have family members working in other countries to make money and send it back home, and some of these guys have never seen these family members again, as their relatives lack the opportunity to return home, or in the worst case, suffered from fatal injuries while working the least desirable jobs of the world.

Enraged by this unfairness and given the opportunity to further their education (unlike many of their siblings and friends who must work to assist their families), my students have incredible visions for themselves to be at the forefront of politics, democracy-building, international NGO involvement, health, and more.

So there you have a snippet of what they have been through and go through. Now. Let's get down to it. Who are these guys? Well, you may recall I had a photo up for a few weeks, but I recently took it down, again, due to security concerns. But for those of you who did see their shining faces, you may have guessed that my students are incredibly vivacious and happy people. They are a hilarious bunch of people. They are wise, intelligent, and take advantage of opportunities like no one I have ever known. Whether I am teaching them about Nelson Mandela or how to correctly use the terminology "that sucks," they absorb information in an incredible way. They possess a wide range of things I consider skills, but that they think of as as natural as breathing, such as cooking incredible meals, fixing anything that is broken, killing snakes and other crazy beasts that climb out of the cupboard when least expected, making their own clothes, using everything around them in nature as a means of nutrition, a tool, a medicine, or something else, and so much more.

Sometimes I suffer from communal living overload (as I eat most meals with these guys and reside next door), but I've actually found that the remedy to this situation, oddly enough, is to spend even more time with my students, which reminds me just what cool people they are. I mean, how can you not laugh when, after you teach the word "boob," one of your male students declares that he "only has a small boob." Freaking phenomenal.

Okay, enough words to swarm around in your head for now.

Small boobs for everyone--

Laura!