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A Silly Storytelling Session About Storybooks

/ Sloan / 2 Comments

Bored and confused they look up at me, their eyes begging me to stop. We’ve been repeating the same seven “S” words over and over for the past 15 minutes. I’ve broken down the syllables, reconstructed them, repeated them in order, out of order. I had all the girls stand up and repeat, while the boys sat happy they didn’t have to do anything for a moment—then had the boys stand, then had all over them stand. I get it, nothing can make repeating words you don’t understand interesting. Not even a goofy white girl making faces, doing motions—it’s boring. I know.

            I have my reasons for these “S” words—not just because I love the letter and enjoy alliteration (Silly Sloan stands in front of class snickering stupid secrets.) I want them to read the words so that when I read them the “S” book they get it. 20 minutes into class I pull a storybook out of my book bag. They smile, they’ve forgotten all the boringness I just put them through and the 33 eight-year-olds grin so hard their faces may stay that way.  They stare at me, waiting with excitement. (The students stare at Sloan as she starts the storytelling.)

 

I love reading to kids. Even to kids who don’t speak the language that I’m reading, they all have the same awestruck reaction to pictures, words, the cadence of the teacher’s voice. They forget about the worksheet they were working on and they listen, they unconsciously repeat the words they just learned (yes! It worked!). I imagine them doing what I did when I was kid; making up definitions for words I didn’t understand, giving characters names, wondering how on earth the teacher is reading upside down or without looking at the book! I now get how my first grade teacher did it, I can now read upside down, I can read with out looking at the pages.

 

Bombarded

Bombarded

Story books, story telling, being so absorbed in what someone is saying is an amazing feeling. Being on the receiving end is magical, but I am enjoying giving this to the students; I feels as though I’m blasting them away from the hot classroom, away from the teachers that yell too much and we’re in our own world of story time.

Craved Intimacy

/ Sloan / Leave a comment

I’m not sure what kind of kid I was, if I was affectionate, ‘huggy’, or standoff-ish. Was I the kind of kid that latched onto a new friend’s leg and ‘koala’d’ them until they shook me off? I really have no idea—maybe my Mother or Father could chime in on this one. As I’ve gotten older and my relationships have become closer I like to think of myself as a hugger. I have memories of cuddling with my best friend on the couch, spooning, in the least sexual way possible. Him and I just fit so well, watching a movie and enjoying another body’s warmth.

Living in Chile where a kiss on the cheek is a standard greeting, college where a hug was normal or having a boyfriend to hold my hand, living on the west coast where a hug was the only way to greet—I definitely became accustomed to daily, multi daily embraces. My old roommate can vouch for the fact that I used to knock on her door and just ask for a hug every once and awhile. South East Asia isn’t quite as comforting.

Instead of a kiss on the cheek or a hand shake they/we wai. A simple bow, a smile, sawadee kahhhh. As funny, and as light hearted as this culture is there isn’t much physical affection—I’ve never seen couples holding hands, you won’t see teenagers making out under the stars by the river front, or old couples embracing. It’s such a change from my old norm.

 

I spent the last weekend in Ko Chang, an island South East of Bangkok. I met up with a friend Friday evening and we embraced after not having seen each other since first arriving and meeting in Thailand nearly two months ago. Sitting on the beach, watching the sunset and talking about how this is our real lives, a head on my shoulder an arm around my waist walking home from a crazy night—such little things but it was unexpected because it’s been two months since I was leaned on out of the blue.

While getting a Thai massage and hearing the water lap on the sand my eyes were closed and I listened to different languages be drowned out by the ocean. A woman I never met, a woman who spoke little English was sitting on my butt. She was rubbing the muscles of my back, neck, glutes, calves, feet, fingers, cheeks; such intimate touch was welcomed but again, after two months it was a struggle to relax into the touch.

View

View

I’m finding that I don’t like to be surprised by these little intimacies, I want to have them often enough that they are not a surprise. Never before did I crave an embrace and not know where to turn to get one, (there were days I would text a certain friend and he would come to my work specifically to give me a hug when I asked.) Here, I know I can count on getting latched onto by a child daily. The children have no problem wrapping their arms around my waist or legs and not letting go—sometimes I wonder where this love for embrace disappears. It’s nice, but not the same as what I’ve grown to take for granted in the US.

La Fuerza de la Eneria

/ Sloan / 4 Comments

I remember when I was in Chile, as an exchange student in high school, contributing to a conversation in class about energia. I think we were talking about life after death, souls, heaven, hell—I probably didn’t understand most of the conversation but my contribution in Spanish was La energia no se puede distruir ni crear…siempre exsite. Energy can’t be created or destroyed, it always exists. I think this was my way of being spiritually awakened at age 17—not knowing (still not knowing) what I believe about life and death and souls and spirits. But I do know that I believe in energy; especially the power and effect of positive energy.

 

I decided earlier this week that I was going to run my longest run yet and practice running in the hotness of the day—I need to train in the heat for prepare for the race in February. After chatting with a friend last night about my hopes for today’s run I asked her to send some positive energy my way around 10:30am, about an hour after I planned on beginning, right when I knew I would need it. She agreed and said she’d send it for sure!

9:15 and I was sweating before I could tie my shoes. This week in Thailand has been unbelievably hot and humid—perfect for heat and humidity training I suppose but difficult to stay hydrated even when I’m not running. My run was to consist of two five-mile loops (I think it’s a five mile loop…) first one I finished no problem; it’s my normal daily run. Embarking on the second loop I could feel my legs and sweat glands working extra hard, I was dreaming of the Gu and water bottle I stashed two miles from where I was. Gummy mouth and energy waning, I needed some water and a few calories.

As I started a bit of down hill I began to feel a bit better, I knew I was getting closer to my hydration, I also looked at my watch and it was 10:31. I smiled and knew my friend was sending me the energy that I needed at that exact moment. I reached my bottle and Gu and kept going trying to hone in on this feeling of feeling okay, not great but not horrible.

As I reached one of my favorite temple ruins I saw a group of 5 monks dressed in gold sitting in the grass facing a group of Thai Buddhist wearing white—they were meditating, creating energy for themselves and appreciating the day. I was feeling a bit needy and mentally asked them for some energy—I had another 30 minutes of this run to get through and needed all the help I could get. At this point I had stopped sweating and was beginning to feel chilled, not the best sign when it’s 98 degrees and I was only able to hold down half the gel and a few sips of water. I asked and took the energy, I’d like to think they knew they were helping the farang though the hot run.

I finished strong. I walked the last 500 meters to my apartment door and smiled at what I had just experienced. Not only my longest run in Thailand but the power of the mind and focus it takes to decide to set out and do something. I don’t know if the energy literally came my way—I’m saying it did, and it helped. And believing in the energy doesn’t hurt…so spread it, share it, give it, receive and appreciate it.

Post run energy--coffee yen!

Post run energy–coffee yen!