Crossing the Border
It is Monday morning.
Yesterday, I went to Mae Sot, for my first and only visa run.
Mae Sot is right on the border between Burma and Thailand, so all I had to do was leave Thailand, cross the river into Burma, and then come back into Thailand.
Pretty simple and straightforwards. : )
As we drove down the busy street towards the bridge that crosses the Moei River, Mrs. Steck, Hannah and Sharon simultaneously tried to tell me where I needed to go, what buildings to go to, when to cross the street (because Thais drive on the left side, and Burmese drive on the right side, so the road switches on the Burmese side of the bridge), and what to do.
I only half-heard them. Coming from the quiet peaceful jungle, into the business of traffic and milling people, I was trying to stay calm.
It's ok, you can do this.
Don't worry.
Stay calm.
Just do it.
I mechanically nodded my head and repeated the directions back to the Stecks, all the while trying not to freak out. We neared the bridge, and slowed to a stop in the middle of the road.
"Ok, here you go! Get out! It's that building back there."
So I opened the trunk (where I had been riding), and hopped out into the street. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I kicked into gear. I didn't know what I was doing, but everyone was watching me, the only white girl there. I needed to look confident, so I held my head high, and quickly made my way to the building I needed to start at. Men started making pleased noises as I walked past and one yelled in English, "Hey, you! Come over here!" but I ignored them and went directly to where I thought I was supposed to go, and stood in line. My heart was pounding in my ears.
Touch me, buddy, and you're dead.
I was alone, a white woman surrounded by dark people, and am some one who (unfortunately) already turns heads, even when I'm in my own country.
This was not the time for me to look at people, smile at them, and be friendly.
I was edgy, like a lone dog walking into another pack's territory. What would I do if someone attacked me? No one here would help me; they would probably just sit there and watch the show.
I squared my shoulders. I couldn't let myself think scared thoughts; they would show in my behavior.
And so I got my picture taken, and the Thai official stamped my passport so I could leave the country. I crossed the road, past many loitering people who turned to stare, and started walking across the bridge as fast as I could. The people I passed on the bridge all tried to talk to me, or turned to watch me, but I ignored them and kept going.
It was really hot and humid going over that river, and as I approached Burma, I coached myself.
Keep going. Don't stop now. You can do this.
A Burmese official saw me and motioned me into his office, which was air conditioned.
*imagine beautiful high voices singing*
I haven't been in air conditioning for almost two months. That may not seem like a big deal for you who are now experiencing fall and winter weather, but over here, it is still summer. It is always summer here. Always some degree of hot.
Anyway, the Burmese people were nice, but as I sat straight as a rod, waiting for them to finish, I realized that my confident act was slipping a little. Maybe no one there could tell, but I knew that I was acting scared. My voice was a little tighter, and I was a little bit more clumsy than usual.
Come on, Raquel. No one has hurt you yet. You've done exactly what you're supposed to do. It's working out alright.
So I left the a/c, crossed the road again, and marched back across the bridge. This time I felt a little more confident, and started to pay attention to my surroundings. A rooster crowed. I below the noise of traffic, I heard some children playing. The brown river flowed beneath me between banks of reeds, and as I passed a man who limped along on a bandaged foot, God said,
Raquel, why are you so scared? You're acting like there's no one with you. What about your angels? What about Me?
Yes....I know, but no one can see them! No one else knows You're here! These are heathen people!
But what about when you're canvassing? Are you afraid in the ghetto? Those guys have been more aggressive than the ones here.
But I'm doing Your work when I'm canvassing! Right now, I'm not doing anything for You; I'm just living. I haven't actively shared a Bible verse with anyone in a while! Aren't I supposed to take care of myself when I'm off work time?
You think I only protect you when you're doing something for Me??
yea...?
Is your dad like that?
no...but -
You thought I was one altogether like yourself...don't you remember that I love you?
You're right. I keep forgetting that You're different than I expect You to be.
Deep breath.
Ok, I trust You.
Raquel, these are the very ones who need to know Me. They are human beings, just like you are. You're no more special or alone than them. I am your Helper, you don't need to fear what men can do to you. What about Mother Teresa, or Gladys Aylward, or the other single women missionaries? I took care of them. Do not fear these people. I am with you.
So I listened, and kept walking. I started to relax, to feel sorry for the limping guy, and the other people I passed. Maybe people stared at Jesus, too. He was certainly without a friend when the mob was spitting on Him, and beating Him. He wasn't afraid then, though He knew He was going to die.
After waiting in line for a while, back at the Thai border, someone told me that I was waiting in the wrong line. They redirected me to the right place, and I didn't have to wait but a minute after that. Then I was let back into Thailand. No one was there to pick me up immediately, so I just started walking towards the river market, where I've been before. It was not a safe place for me to stand and wait, so I just kept going, praying that Mrs. Steck would drive by. She did, and stopped in the street for me to run and jump in.
That was an ordeal, but I made it alright, thanks to Jesus. I learned again that God gives blessings, especially when I'm not doing something to earn them.
This morning, more giants to face. Giving a Truth for Youth sermon for chapel, incidentally on David and Goliath. (what do you know?) Going to class when I really did not feel like it, or want to go. Being enthusiastic and smiley, when my students are also experiencing the Monday morning blues. Being patient with Dwee Mae Saw, who is wanting to hang on me, and push buttons on my computer, and generally being annoying.
It's the little things that stretch you.
Every day for the past few days, I've been imagining what it will be like to come home again. I really miss my friends, being able to have nice deep conversations in English, and hearing spiritual talks. Nearly all the worships here are in Karen, so I just sit there and try not to let my mind wander away.
I want to debate with someone, have a rousing conversation, learn something new, COMMUNICATE.
That's what I miss, I think.
As far as everything else, I really like being here. The place is great, the people are great, and I'm doing fine here...I just miss good communication.
But if I sit still and think about that, I'll be discontented. God has better things for me than that.
Random happenings:
Came back from Mae Sot, knelt on my bedroom floor to open my computer, and noticed something squirming on the floor. It was another baby rat, even younger than the last one.
"Irresponsible parents!" I grumbled, "Hannah (Steck)? Can you...um...get rid of this? I can't do it..."
She took it away.
We did manage to catch a rat in a glue trap the other night. I woke up at 11:45, and discovered a rat, half-encased in glue, his eye bulging out in fear. He struggled when I picked up the box the trap was in, and I felt so bad for him! I woke up Hannah, who was sleeping out in her hammock, and she sleepily told me I should drown the rat.
It took me about twenty minutes to get up the courage to do it. I would have happily walked a ways up the road in the dark just so he could live somewhere else, but I couldn't get him off the trap without hurting him.
It was a hard thing for me to do. I felt like a hardened murderer afterwards.
There are yet three or four more big rats that live with us and come down to commune on the floor at night. Last night they were fighting, I assume over who lost the baby.
I wonder if Thai people use blow guns? I'm totally up to shooting the rats with poisoned darts, now that I've already killed one.
The bats here are huge. Like, around 18-inches-wingspan-huge. Eeek.
The rainy season is over, but there's still dry lighting every night. You can see the stars through a thin veil of clouds, and the lightning randomly flashes from cloud-to-cloud. It's very strange.
On a side note, I don't really like looking at the stars here, though they are very visible, because they are all foreign and remind me that I'm on the other side of the world from my home.
Those students that remind me of the kind of student I am. The one third-grader who stubbornly will not participate, and puts his head on his desk the whole time. He's too smart, and knows that he doesn't have to put in the effort in order to pass the class.
Ugh. You could at least just participate!
The ones who don't want to take notes.
The ones who don't want to be there.
I deserve them! All of them! I deserve to have huge classes with only those kind of students, because they are exactly the kind of student I am.
I don't like sitting in class. I don't like sitting still unless I'm thinking very hard. I cannot think very hard when I'm in class, because I'm supposed to be listening. I don't want to listen. I don't like to learn at the pace of other students. I want to learn everything all at once. I don't want to put any effort into learning because I'm overwhelmed with all the classes I'm taking; I just want to pass the classes. I want to do it all my way! I don't like this group, generalized learning process. I want to teach myself. Just give me the book, or maybe even your brain, and I can teach myself everything I need to know. Why do I need to be in class at a certain time? Why for such a loooong time? Every day? Can't we do something different?
I'm so independent!
I can totally empathize with the problematic students. In highschool, I always wanted to make trouble in class because I was so bored. Homeschooling taught me that I could do whatever subject I wanted to whenever I wanted to, as long as it got done that day. I could get up and do whatever I wanted if I got bored with a subject. Sitting in a normal classroom is like torture, unless I really like the teacher.
So now that I'm the teacher, in a normal classroom, what do I do?
How can I help my students....when I only have so much time, and there are so many of them, and I empathize with their attitude? I think I'm going to hit on a solution eventually; it will just take some time to work it through my mind.
One thing I know for sure; when I come back to finish college, I'll try to be a much better student for my teachers.
Being a canvassing leader taught me to be a much better canvasser, and I think being a teacher will make me a much better student.
Yesterday, I went to Mae Sot, for my first and only visa run.
Mae Sot is right on the border between Burma and Thailand, so all I had to do was leave Thailand, cross the river into Burma, and then come back into Thailand.
Pretty simple and straightforwards. : )
As we drove down the busy street towards the bridge that crosses the Moei River, Mrs. Steck, Hannah and Sharon simultaneously tried to tell me where I needed to go, what buildings to go to, when to cross the street (because Thais drive on the left side, and Burmese drive on the right side, so the road switches on the Burmese side of the bridge), and what to do.
I only half-heard them. Coming from the quiet peaceful jungle, into the business of traffic and milling people, I was trying to stay calm.
It's ok, you can do this.
Don't worry.
Stay calm.
Just do it.
I mechanically nodded my head and repeated the directions back to the Stecks, all the while trying not to freak out. We neared the bridge, and slowed to a stop in the middle of the road.
"Ok, here you go! Get out! It's that building back there."
So I opened the trunk (where I had been riding), and hopped out into the street. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I kicked into gear. I didn't know what I was doing, but everyone was watching me, the only white girl there. I needed to look confident, so I held my head high, and quickly made my way to the building I needed to start at. Men started making pleased noises as I walked past and one yelled in English, "Hey, you! Come over here!" but I ignored them and went directly to where I thought I was supposed to go, and stood in line. My heart was pounding in my ears.
Touch me, buddy, and you're dead.
I was alone, a white woman surrounded by dark people, and am some one who (unfortunately) already turns heads, even when I'm in my own country.
This was not the time for me to look at people, smile at them, and be friendly.
I was edgy, like a lone dog walking into another pack's territory. What would I do if someone attacked me? No one here would help me; they would probably just sit there and watch the show.
I squared my shoulders. I couldn't let myself think scared thoughts; they would show in my behavior.
And so I got my picture taken, and the Thai official stamped my passport so I could leave the country. I crossed the road, past many loitering people who turned to stare, and started walking across the bridge as fast as I could. The people I passed on the bridge all tried to talk to me, or turned to watch me, but I ignored them and kept going.
It was really hot and humid going over that river, and as I approached Burma, I coached myself.
Keep going. Don't stop now. You can do this.
A Burmese official saw me and motioned me into his office, which was air conditioned.
*imagine beautiful high voices singing*
I haven't been in air conditioning for almost two months. That may not seem like a big deal for you who are now experiencing fall and winter weather, but over here, it is still summer. It is always summer here. Always some degree of hot.
Anyway, the Burmese people were nice, but as I sat straight as a rod, waiting for them to finish, I realized that my confident act was slipping a little. Maybe no one there could tell, but I knew that I was acting scared. My voice was a little tighter, and I was a little bit more clumsy than usual.
Come on, Raquel. No one has hurt you yet. You've done exactly what you're supposed to do. It's working out alright.
So I left the a/c, crossed the road again, and marched back across the bridge. This time I felt a little more confident, and started to pay attention to my surroundings. A rooster crowed. I below the noise of traffic, I heard some children playing. The brown river flowed beneath me between banks of reeds, and as I passed a man who limped along on a bandaged foot, God said,
Raquel, why are you so scared? You're acting like there's no one with you. What about your angels? What about Me?
Yes....I know, but no one can see them! No one else knows You're here! These are heathen people!
But what about when you're canvassing? Are you afraid in the ghetto? Those guys have been more aggressive than the ones here.
But I'm doing Your work when I'm canvassing! Right now, I'm not doing anything for You; I'm just living. I haven't actively shared a Bible verse with anyone in a while! Aren't I supposed to take care of myself when I'm off work time?
You think I only protect you when you're doing something for Me??
yea...?
Is your dad like that?
no...but -
You thought I was one altogether like yourself...don't you remember that I love you?
You're right. I keep forgetting that You're different than I expect You to be.
Deep breath.
Ok, I trust You.
Raquel, these are the very ones who need to know Me. They are human beings, just like you are. You're no more special or alone than them. I am your Helper, you don't need to fear what men can do to you. What about Mother Teresa, or Gladys Aylward, or the other single women missionaries? I took care of them. Do not fear these people. I am with you.
So I listened, and kept walking. I started to relax, to feel sorry for the limping guy, and the other people I passed. Maybe people stared at Jesus, too. He was certainly without a friend when the mob was spitting on Him, and beating Him. He wasn't afraid then, though He knew He was going to die.
After waiting in line for a while, back at the Thai border, someone told me that I was waiting in the wrong line. They redirected me to the right place, and I didn't have to wait but a minute after that. Then I was let back into Thailand. No one was there to pick me up immediately, so I just started walking towards the river market, where I've been before. It was not a safe place for me to stand and wait, so I just kept going, praying that Mrs. Steck would drive by. She did, and stopped in the street for me to run and jump in.
That was an ordeal, but I made it alright, thanks to Jesus. I learned again that God gives blessings, especially when I'm not doing something to earn them.
This morning, more giants to face. Giving a Truth for Youth sermon for chapel, incidentally on David and Goliath. (what do you know?) Going to class when I really did not feel like it, or want to go. Being enthusiastic and smiley, when my students are also experiencing the Monday morning blues. Being patient with Dwee Mae Saw, who is wanting to hang on me, and push buttons on my computer, and generally being annoying.
It's the little things that stretch you.
Every day for the past few days, I've been imagining what it will be like to come home again. I really miss my friends, being able to have nice deep conversations in English, and hearing spiritual talks. Nearly all the worships here are in Karen, so I just sit there and try not to let my mind wander away.
I want to debate with someone, have a rousing conversation, learn something new, COMMUNICATE.
That's what I miss, I think.
As far as everything else, I really like being here. The place is great, the people are great, and I'm doing fine here...I just miss good communication.
But if I sit still and think about that, I'll be discontented. God has better things for me than that.
Random happenings:
Came back from Mae Sot, knelt on my bedroom floor to open my computer, and noticed something squirming on the floor. It was another baby rat, even younger than the last one.
"Irresponsible parents!" I grumbled, "Hannah (Steck)? Can you...um...get rid of this? I can't do it..."
She took it away.
We did manage to catch a rat in a glue trap the other night. I woke up at 11:45, and discovered a rat, half-encased in glue, his eye bulging out in fear. He struggled when I picked up the box the trap was in, and I felt so bad for him! I woke up Hannah, who was sleeping out in her hammock, and she sleepily told me I should drown the rat.
It took me about twenty minutes to get up the courage to do it. I would have happily walked a ways up the road in the dark just so he could live somewhere else, but I couldn't get him off the trap without hurting him.
It was a hard thing for me to do. I felt like a hardened murderer afterwards.
There are yet three or four more big rats that live with us and come down to commune on the floor at night. Last night they were fighting, I assume over who lost the baby.
I wonder if Thai people use blow guns? I'm totally up to shooting the rats with poisoned darts, now that I've already killed one.
The bats here are huge. Like, around 18-inches-wingspan-huge. Eeek.
The rainy season is over, but there's still dry lighting every night. You can see the stars through a thin veil of clouds, and the lightning randomly flashes from cloud-to-cloud. It's very strange.
On a side note, I don't really like looking at the stars here, though they are very visible, because they are all foreign and remind me that I'm on the other side of the world from my home.
Those students that remind me of the kind of student I am. The one third-grader who stubbornly will not participate, and puts his head on his desk the whole time. He's too smart, and knows that he doesn't have to put in the effort in order to pass the class.
Ugh. You could at least just participate!
The ones who don't want to take notes.
The ones who don't want to be there.
I deserve them! All of them! I deserve to have huge classes with only those kind of students, because they are exactly the kind of student I am.
I don't like sitting in class. I don't like sitting still unless I'm thinking very hard. I cannot think very hard when I'm in class, because I'm supposed to be listening. I don't want to listen. I don't like to learn at the pace of other students. I want to learn everything all at once. I don't want to put any effort into learning because I'm overwhelmed with all the classes I'm taking; I just want to pass the classes. I want to do it all my way! I don't like this group, generalized learning process. I want to teach myself. Just give me the book, or maybe even your brain, and I can teach myself everything I need to know. Why do I need to be in class at a certain time? Why for such a loooong time? Every day? Can't we do something different?
I'm so independent!
I can totally empathize with the problematic students. In highschool, I always wanted to make trouble in class because I was so bored. Homeschooling taught me that I could do whatever subject I wanted to whenever I wanted to, as long as it got done that day. I could get up and do whatever I wanted if I got bored with a subject. Sitting in a normal classroom is like torture, unless I really like the teacher.
So now that I'm the teacher, in a normal classroom, what do I do?
How can I help my students....when I only have so much time, and there are so many of them, and I empathize with their attitude? I think I'm going to hit on a solution eventually; it will just take some time to work it through my mind.
One thing I know for sure; when I come back to finish college, I'll try to be a much better student for my teachers.
Being a canvassing leader taught me to be a much better canvasser, and I think being a teacher will make me a much better student.
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