Hoosiers We Are Not...

Tuesday, February 17, 2009



Various States in the Union have various things to be proud of. Washington State can be proud of the fact that it has given at least three quarters of every town in America at least two Starbucks, roughly a mile apart from each other. Texas has given America Tex-Mex as well as the knowledge that if we 'mess' with you, something bad will happen. The signs aren't that specific. New England has clam chowder. I think they all claim that as their own. Everyone except Vermont which is probably pretty happy with it's own maple syrup.



As for Indiana... Indiana can be proud of, among other things, it's lengthy heritage with the sport of basketball. I recently read an article that even though the Indiana Hoosiers are facing yet another loosing season, they continue to fill just about every seat of the arena. True dedication from a die hard group of basketball fanatics.



Which brings me to my next point. Indiana University is the only university in the great State of Indiana to win an NCAA Men's Division I Title. I.U. has won 5 titles in total but has yet to add a 6th title since 1987. I believe that was roughly the same year that Somalia last saw rain.




Now obviously these two events are not related nor could my own lack of ability with a basketball be related to Indiana Universities March Madness record throughout the early 90's or the weather patterns across the Horn of Africa during roughly the same time period. No. These items are not related at all but they work as a damn good excuse. Because honestly, when I think back upon it, I could have been a great basketball player if only it had just rained a little more in Mogadishu.




Two brand new nets were just installed on the goals of what could sympathetically be called my schools basketball court. I knew this was happening because I was born in Anderson, Indiana. I honestly can't remember how to multiply or divide fractions but I can tell you when basketball is being played within a 3 mile radius.




Nothing right now.




Radar is clear.




With new nets, it wasn't hard to find students who wanted to try out these new toys. After a very brief lesson on how to properly attempt a jump shot, a game was organized of boys v. girls with me balancing out the girls side.




It is important to understand, realize, and know that we did not actually play basketball. To play basketball would be to play by at least some of the rules and to play by at least some of the rules one would first have to know at least some of the rules. Dribbling is a rule. Fouls make up a number of the rules. The 3/5 second lane violation...now that's a rule!




I have quickly learned during my time over here as well as with previous experiences with children that rules are bad and that games are good. This applies also to the NBA. Children, if left to their own devices, will often create their own rules. Lord of the Flies meets Bobby Knight. Now obviously I'm not going to let a friendly game of basketball turn into a hunting party for the little fat kid who's hyper obsessed with the conk shell but I'm also not going to spend the next 25 minutes attempting to explain in broken Thai and English the 'carrying' rule to kids who can't dribble in the first place.




Instead of basketball, what we played was more of a form of soccer, rugby, and basketball all rolled into one. I doubt I need to explain the rugby element as the mental image alone should be satisfactory. Still, their should have been more jump balls than the ( insert random basketball almanac statistic here ) game between the ( insert team A ) and the ( insert team B ).




The soccer element made more sense than the rugby element. The rugby element was just bad officiating on the part of the absent officials who had likely been paid off by local police. With soccer, the students just drew on what they knew and made up for what they didn't know. If the ball went out below the net, and it was the offenses ball, they would automatically take it out from the corner instead of from under the net. Their version of a corner kick. When the ball was moved up the court, the students would pass and pass and pass. Rarely would anyone ever dribble the ball. This of course makes sense as no one actually knew how to dribble.


After what felt like a good solid 45 minutes of play in the punishing Southeast Asian sun, the bell rang calling an end to the day. During the last 20 minutes, I came to realize that a surprise game of basketball with my students was not a blessing but was in fact some sort of punishment. Clearly I had sinned in some way earlier that day or week and was now being punished for my wickedness.


Either that or I am shockingly out of shape. I prefer the God theory as I'm comfortable with my body just the way it is.


On second thought, maybe I'm not as conditioned as I thought I was. But then again, these kids are in their element. I'd like to see how well they'd fair in 40-50 degree weather back home in Indiana.


As a final note to anyone who is interested; the final score was something around 7 - 5 in favor of the boys. As we were playing primarily by soccer rules rather than by basketball rules, I'm only assuming that I would have been the only individual who would have counted each basket as two points rather than as one point. It's also worth noting that as much as I tried to involve the girls, I ended up scoring all 5 points, marking a personal best for myself. If you scored the game as 14 - 10 then I blew my personal best clear out of the water.


Did I forget to mention that I absolutely suck at basketball and am completely the wrong person to be teaching these kids anything about the sport?


Radar is still clear.

Funeral

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Their is a volunteer in our group who publishes a blog roughly once a day. I just checked before I started writing and his last entry was dated at 21 hours ago. Before that he had another entry that was dated at 22 hours before that. I have no idea when my last entry was. At one point I was going back and attempting to write about old stories which had already taken place and then adjusting the date to make it appear as though I had really just written about it as it had taken place. Yeah. I'm really no good with this.

I don't have a plan to fix this nor do I believe I would actually stick to any such plan of my own creation. More than likely this will be my only posting for the next 3 months. And sadly I'm doing this from my schools computer so I don't have any pictures to go with this posting. But how's about this. For those of you who still check this, please feel free to fill my inbox with as much spam as you want. From hate mail to just the dumbest shit you can possibly think of. I'll get the hint. To stop the crap, I have to write. I'm serious. Who knows. Maybe this will work. Or maybe I'll just block your address and go back to watching old episodes of Lost on DVD.

That show is weird!

A funeral is a free meal in my village and typically a good one at that. The other night the surprise feast was Yum Nan Moo or Pig Skin Salad. Just as it's name suggests, it was amazing and I couldn't help but have seconds. Other staples of a traditional funeral were there including 'Back up' curry which is a traditional Southern Thai dish which is simple and easy to make in massive amounts hence its name 'Back up' curry.

The departed was the brother of the wife of a man who use to be on the board of directors of one of my schools. He was in his early 40s and had just passed away from HIV. Don't let this alarm you though. My village as well as the surrounding villages doesn't have a problem with HIV as compared with some of the other villages and provinces of Thailand ( Oh yes we do! ). A total of 5 monks officiated over the ceremony which could be compared to any Roman Catholic service in terms of length and entertainment value.

The first time I attended a funeral, my mind was razor sharp and keen to pick up the subtle details that were all around me. Numerous Religious Studies courses from University taught me to be aware of both secular and non-secular symbols around me when attending any formal gathering ( i.e. a funeral ). Examples of this include the strict dress code which is adhered to of wearing only black and white. Only one kind of desert is served and is only served at funerals. A shroud is placed over the Spirit House of the resident in question. And so on and so forth.

After the 9th or 10th funeral, the mystery ceases except for the question of what will be served that evening. Sometimes the food is horrible, to be honest, while other times the food is amazing. Is it wrong to write a culinary review of a funeral? Probably. But what if the food was really really really good? A traditional Western funeral will typically involve various forms of finger foods which are served following the funeral services. A Thai funeral is a bit different. A full meal is provided to the guests, after which the services take place. This all takes place at the home of the family of the deceased. If it could be compared to anything the West has, then perhaps it best matches an Irish wake played in reverse.

The other night when I attended the funeral of which I have the clearest memory of, as it is the most recent one I have been witness to, I remember wondering if flash photography would be inappropriate. This is a line I have not yet crossed but one I am prepared to. A curious thing, Thai's never turn off their cell phones and as a result of this, at least 4 calls were received by various individuals during the funeral. Not only were these calls received but conversations were held. The monks who presided over the occasion, stoic figures, were not phased. Nor should they have been. No one was phased by this except perhaps myself. This is not something unusual for Thai culture. Voicemail is unusual. Calling someone back is unusual. Accepting a call in the middle of a funeral, that's normal.

I have been in Thailand for over a year now and have been witness to many strange occurrences. An 'elephant show' randomly showed up at my school yesterday and made camp. Three elephants romped around the schools football field, took a shit, and then left. It was "The Greatest Show on Earth!" This will probably stick in my mind longer than the tiny things I have witnessed. Cell phones being answered regardless of the situation. A family of 6 riding down the road on a moped including Grandma holding a 9 month old infant. My star student wearing a shirt that said "Fuck Off Wanker!" in a dance competition. These memories will have to be triggered in order to resurface which is sad because these are the memories which have truly been at the center of my Peace Corps experience. And funerals are just an example.

 
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