Somehow in the course of my childhood and adolescence, I never needed stitches. Today after getting two biopsies on my stomach and leg, the doctor mended me up with stitches. My skin was not responding to the scabies medication, which means there's a chance that it isn't scabies now. The doctor refrained from making judgement at this point, awaiting instead the results of the biopsy on Saturday. My primary care physician at the PC office in Bangkok's daughter is finishing her thesis at Reed; for those of us who went to Reed, you might know her. Her name is Tessa, and she had that beautiful golden retriever called Sienna, Bio-major. The doctor was not so worried about it; he thinks that I will be heading back to country. He wants to make sure that I have a definitive diagnosis before I leave with a treatment plan as well if necessary. I am sort of stuck in Bangkok. I have done most of the sightseeing that I am interested in doing. I also have already shopped for everyone at the Weekend Market and a few of the sidewalk vendors.
I found out who my friend from Bangkok is. He is the Prime Minister of Thailand's nephew, which is why he knows everyone (or everyone knows him). We went to the capital of Siam called Ayudhya. I hopefully will have some photos uploaded onto the website by the end of the blog. Ayudhya with someone who knows it was brilliant. We went to various temples, rode on a longboat around the city, and ate really good food off the street. The photos will give you some impression of the immensity of this city and the nature of the architecture. I found the Buddhist temples to exert such a spiritual power over me while walking around them. It is incredible to think that this city had once been the center of European and Siamese trade before the capital was moved to Bangkok. Many of the statues of Buddha had their heads cut off and taken away by Europeans. It's easier to decapitate a statue than to try to take the multi-ton object in one piece. Ask anyone imperialist treasure hunter.
I went to temple at Wat Mahathat in the center of town. That morning was pretty trippy. I got onto the metro to head toward the station to pick up Bangkok's public transport longboat. While speeding along, I noticed that my nose was running. It wasn't thick but runny like water. It was embarassing, and I was trying to use my sleeve to wipe it up as well as my hands. I looked down and realized that my nose had been bleeding for a few minutes. The people on the metro were stupified by the amount of blood and my unique capacity to smear it all over my hands and face in trying to be discreet. The blood was all over. I had been dripping for some time onto the metro floor. No one offered me a tissue. I got off at the next stop and had to walk to a 7-11 for water and tissues. I looked maybe like I had slaughtered something in haste under the florescent lights of the minimart. I discovered the section with the bottles of water quickly, yet I was dumbfounded by where they might have put the tissues. I almost bought (a) diapers or (b) some pads to clean up my face. I was meeting with a monk at 9AM, so I felt rushed on top of it all. Finally I found them at the register, the little bastards. It was pouring outside and, with the rain's assistance, I managed to clean myself up and make it onto a boat. I waited in the vicinity of the temple a few hours. The monk hadn't come on account of the rain pouring.
After lunch, I made my way back to the temple for instruction on Vipassana meditation, a form of Buddhist meditation that involves awareness of the present. I learned how to work on walking meditation and was introduced to a couple of new techniques about meditation in general. The foundation of this meditation is to focus on the rising and falling of the abdomen. It is important to connect your thoughts to your actions. At the beginning of the walking meditation, when you are standing, you think, "Standing standing standing" with your eyes close. Then you think, "Opening eyes opening eyes." Then "Intending to move intending to move." For every action you synchronize your thought with the action. I walked back and forth for an hour. This technique has some benefits for working on awareness of one's actions. If you think about what you are doing as you are doing it, you are meditating in this way. Monks here learn how to be aware of their actions throughout the entire day while eating, washing, and every other deed that Thai monks accomplish. The wat is one of the oldest in Bangkok and one of the largest.
I realized that the Thai script was actually taken from the parts of my dreams when I try to read and cannot. Do you know that feeling when you are dreaming? You look down to read something, and it's a mess. That mess most likely is Thai letters. Maybe if I learn Thai I will be able to read things in my dreams, though.
The doctor told me that I can leave Bangkok. I am thinking about heading to Angkor in Cambodia if I have enough money. My pin number is lost to my wavering memory. I have some cash and can probably take a train there. Apparently, it is a place that everyone has to see before they die, or so says Capt George. I also might be here for the Thai New Year when people throw buckets of water on one another in celebration. I will be sure to take photos of this. I met a lady at the PC office who wants to go out and party with me. I think we are going out tonight actually. I think it would be fun to party with "someone from the office." Haven't really done that before. If I don't head to Cambodia, I will probably lie in the sun at the beach for the next week and improve my tan. I can't swim. If I do, I will compromise the stitches' function entirely.
I miss my job and life in Kyrgyzstan somewhat. I really want to get back to my students and my school. I feel like a chump to be just hanging around Bangkok. I have realized how I can be a better teacher: have more fun with the students. I need to play more games and integrate more ridiculousness into my classes. I think that I can find ways. I also have realized how beautiful my village is having been in a dirty metropolis for the last week. I miss the simplicity and satisfaction of being a real volunteer at my site. I will get back to it, "gudai biursa" (god willing) as my Kyrgyz host father often says. In any case, write me emails and keep me posted.
The Pope is dead. Akyaev resigned. I have stitches in Bangkok. America hosted the largest faux terrorism exercies (DeLillo's prophecy). The only thing to do is dance at a hip bar. I will post photos from my friend's computer tonight. Kisses. -MJ
