A Wake Up Call

I was to post this earlier but I guess it is too late now, so I am posting this as a tribute to my dad who passed away this morning around 10 (April 30, 2015).

It wasn't the same sentiment when he decided to leave the country. Stepping on that plane, with curiosity and excitement, gave none of the nostalgic sentiments associated with going away. Perhaps, the person who left had more anticipation of a new life rather than those who were left, as one bird in their nest, decided to fly away.

His decision to leave was triggered by his inability to make amends with his father. From childhood to adulthood, there were snippets of a difficult relationship. From abandoning the responsibility to pay for his tuition, to publicly humiliating his son in front of others because he did not make it to the honour roll. 

Physical abuse were a part of his growing. A fork flew towards him while they were eating because he did not answer as soon as he was asked. A towel was used to strangle him in one petty situation. Harsh words were thrown at him when he pursued acting and teaching as his career choices, and often forced into his head that those activities were not for men. 

That man, who was offered a job to leave the country, grabbed the opportunity to escape and escape he did, as he did not return anymore for good. For many years, he will pay a visit because of his mom and would often stay less than fifteen days in a year. Those visits became rarer when his mom passed away as there was no more reason to be back. 

When he heard of the many unfortunate events happening back home, he felt the same guilty feeling he had when he lost his mom. Though the childhood trials linger, there was a pinch of sadness and a change of heart until he received a message from his former student.

Natty had studied with him during Saturdays and they had formed a good bond between themselves. The girl was difficult to teach because she was stubborn though she was really, really bright. After more than two years, her dad was very sick so they decided to stop going to his house for extra tuition.

Natty: Hello teacher. I have bad news to tell you.

Teacher: What is it?

Natty: My dad passed away on March 2.

Teacher: I am sorry to hear this, my condolences.

Natty: But I have good news too! I passed the exam and 

I will attend a new school this coming school year.

Teacher: Good job! Do great things for your dad. He is looking after you.

Natty: My mum is crying after my dad passed away.

Teacher: I hope she will stay strong. Take care of her.

Natty: My dad had cancer and he ate medicine that 

can help him live without pain but it made his body unresponsive.

The psychiatrist told me that the last thing people can respond to is hearing so I told him that I love him so much at the hospital. Sometimes I cry when I miss him because it's like something disappeared from my life. When I miss him, I'll tell myself that he is at rest.

Teacher: Your dad leaving you at this very young age is painful but I know how strong you are. 

Natty: The psychiatrist told me that her father passed away about the same age as I. She said that her father had an accident and that she wasn't able to tell anything to her dad. She told me that I'm luckier than her that I can tell my father what I want to say.

Teacher: You know what I remember now. You can't lend me the book Charlie and the Chocolate Factory because it was from your dad so please keep that book as a memory of him. I know you treasure that book. 

Natty: I will. 

After that short chat conversation, the man looked from a distance and tears came running down his cheeks. It was a wake up call and it was time to make proper amends. Maybe a really positive and open conversation will do. But maybe, an upcoming visit will reign light and closure to those issues.

So I, will do.

Update: When my brother/sister asked me if there is something I wanted to say to my dad as he was in the emergency room, I sobbed and cried saying, "Please send my apologies." 

Let's Play I Spy!

The Dan Singkhon pass in Prachuap Kiri Khan has a market for Thais and Burmese to either ply their trade or to exchange commodities by buying and selling. There were not much to see though they have plenty of jewelries, some clothes, leather bags, fancy slippers, amulets, flowering plants, and wooden furnitures. 

Of the many things you can buy from a market, what do you think I bought?
I spy with my little eyes, something you wear.

Of the five flower photos, which one is which?
I spy with my little eyes, something that is not real.

Of the three open doors, which one did I use?
I spy with my little eyes, the door that I entered.

Have a great day everyone!

A Short Trip to Myanmar

As I was on a road trip recently, I decided to pass by Dan Singkhon in the border of Thailand and Myanmar. As it was the New Year's celebration for both countries, the border was opened for visitors for four days.

Dan Singkhon Pass located in  Prachaup Kiri Khan.

Hopping into a pick-up truck after paying a minimal fee, off I went with a group of Thais. Since the passenger portion was filled up, I was asked to sit in front with the driver thus I was able to take some photographs. 

The main entrance to Myanmar where a check-point
was set-up for immigration purposes.

The bucolic scenery reminded me of the countryside. The brownish mountains, as it was hot and dry, welcomed us as we traversed the rugged terrains. The dust through the asphalt road were upon us like powder on our faces. This was the first destination, to see the countryside.

The view along the Tennaserim Mountain was just as refreshing
as the rains of May.

An abundance of palm plantations gave life to the zig-zagging roads.

There was a limitation as to how far a distance vehicles
can run through each other's soils. 

As we approached another blockade, it wasn't because of another check-point but it was because a group of people were dancing and dousing each other with water as they celebrate the New Year. I was asked to roll up the window as wetting the inside of the truck wasn't a good idea. The people greeted us with smiles but there was not a single drop of water splashed on us, I mean, to the Thais inside the truck.

Oh, uh, water fight!

Our second destination was this temple, not as ornate as the other temples I had seen so far, but it was different in a sense that it was just a rounded shaped structure with seven almost identical deities representing the days of the week.

Stunning from outside!

I offered some flowers, a candle and joss sticks to the deity of Sunday,
the day of my birth.

A bell to signal communion, prayer time and other daily activities.

A monk summoned us to gather inside and he blessed us with holy water.

After some solemn prayers and offerings, we were to go to our third and final destination which was a shopping spree for duty free spirits and cigars. But before we reached the local stores, we passed the same blockade of people and this time, not a single soul was dry. 

You could see in their eyes and faces the joy of celebrating their
New Year in the middle of summer. 

Hoses were everywhere and the Myanmar men were rocking the truck up and down, up and down to the beat of the song they were dancing to. It was chaos and it must be so much fun getting soaked in the heat and I am saying, it must be because I was the only dry soul aside from the driver since I was in front of the truck. 

We finally reached the store where two dozens of beer cans were sold for 240 baht only and a bottle of liquor was for a hundred. I was just looking at the commodities wishing they sell chocolates but to no avail. :(

With that disappointment was a great exposure as to how the New Year was celebrated at the neighbouring country. Maybe next year, I might go to the capital city. For now, I wish Thailand and Myanmar a happy new year!

Ranong, Visiting Ko Phayam

The Thai New Year gave us a week off to enjoy the celebration of water splashing and cooling off from the summer heat. When half of the population were thinking of going away, the other half stayed put to enjoy the traffic less roads and ghost town cities. I joined the first half and off to Ranong I went. 

The still water and outstanding view at the pier was visually stunning
though the immediate surrounding was not.

Fishing is a major industry followed by tourism.

Old and new, these boats are still in use.

The boats are inviting enough to be taken photographs of
because of their colours.

A 50 minutes speed boat ride brought me to Ko Phayam.

The only available mode of transportation were motorbikes and one can rent for the duration of the day for a certain fee. It was cheaper to rent rather than hire a motorbike driver for your every destination. 

This was the view where I stayed.
The weather wasn't favourable so I opted to just walk and enjoy the air.

Land, water, greens and air captured in one single shot.

Some lonely souls kayaking down the sea.

Still boats as they bobbed up and down the waters.

- Ko Phayam is one of my most expensive get away ever. The accommodation was expensive as well as the food. The club has twenty four hours of electricity run by generators thus the cost. Food was doubly priced, as well as drinking water.

+ Though the rain gave a certain gloom to the beautiful island, it was a much better choice to be trapped in a wet and cold place than be in the summer heat of Bangkok and its vicinities. 

These critters visited my bungalow during the night, making icky sounds at the terrace
 until I found them dead on the floor the next morning. 

I will never go back to Ko Phayam even if given another chance. As the owner of the resort asked me, "Why come here when there are so many beautiful beaches in your country?"

Coron, here I come!

Sand Post

Since it was the Thai New Year and everyone's out, I might as well do a road trip once again and this time, to the South of Thailand. We traversed hundreds of kilometres and after five hours decided to stop in a town called Bankrut. The seaside can be found in between two adjoining provinces Chumpon and Prachuap Kiri Khan. 

I happened to witness some of the works of the locals and Thai university students during their annual Bankrut Sand Fantasy Festival. Some were finished but others were in the finishing stages. 

Group hug!

Peace men! Busog na kami!

What dah? It's like looking at a mirror!

So hot! Hotdog!

All I asked for Christmas were my two front teeth!

Sa malamig, sa malamig!

Shark: What big eyes you have!
Octopus: What big teeth you have!

Antok na me, good night!

Buntis ka, ne?

When I left the day after, the rain had been pouring and I was worried about the sand sculptures as they might had been ruined. But lo and behold, they were still intact when I passed them. They might had been protected by the palm trees since none had tarps on them. Were they probably sprayed with glue?

Not So Nice 2

Really!

A few weeks ago, a student was unempathetic commenting about my broken foot. This time, a student was asked to visit an activity centre so he could draw his family. He hesitated at first with a resounding no but I still asked him politely to sit with me. After being seated, he looked at me and said, "I'm going to stabbed you with my sword!" I looked at him with no expressions at all and with all patience asked, "Do you think those are good words to say to your teacher?" And so goes my morning in school.

Then, during music class as I was teaching the children to listen to the beat, one of the students blurted, "We know that already!" Of which I challenged her with "Let me see!" And only half of the class can do it, minus that child. That was my afternoon.

During my last tutorial class, I told my student that he doesn't speak like a student anymore. He sounds like a person growing up in the ghetto with his remarks and negative comments. I was saddened by the lost of his childhood manners. He is growing while I am dying, metaphorically speaking.

Throughout one day, there was only one thing running in my mind and it was the resounding subject of rudeness. There will always be one everyday whether with children, care takers, teachers, parents, or the people that I meet each day. I even became callous with the constant snobbish attitude of someone in school but I don't feel good.

Not everyone can like me and same case with people I meet, though I do return with politeness what was offered to me. A smile for a smile, a nod for a nod, a nice return for gestures received.

(I do this with blogging, I visit the one who leaves a comment on my page. It's like a curtsy bow and even better when it is returned.)

To Return, Kanchanaburi

It was a recommendation from my orthopedic doctor for me to do some exercises such as swimming and biking to help myself build muscles again on my left leg. It will also be beneficial for my left foot to have some exercise. Without batting an eyelash, I made a trip driving out of the city for two hours to a place I am very familiar with. The province name is Kanchanaburi and it is where I started my nomad life as a traveller many years ago. 

This was the first stop as I wanted to see the ruckus created on the newspaper as to how the resort encroached the waters. I was mesmerized by its grandeur and the place reminded me of the Maldives.

After some inquiries, I was told that the only available unit was at the very end of the resort, facing the magnificent water but I declined. The walk was just too much for my 'healing' foot to bear. I left with a heavy heart but I was telling myself that I shall return.

Further away from that scenic area, I scouted for a more appropriate place for my weary foot and found another haven. Though not as grand as the first, it was a perfect pick of my definition of peace.

The facade was inviting and as I managed to do small but steady steps, I finally reached my room to stay.

The furthermost unit was where I retreated after all the walking and it was indeed serene as nobody was around the resort. Magically turning a much visited place into a ghost town.

As I wanted to swim, I asked if I could have something to climb down and up the waters and I was graciously given a raft, made from PVC pipes. It was perfect!

The steady flow of water did not stir any fear in me as I am an avid swimmer. I only approached one personnel and inquired to make sure there were no crocodiles around.

Watching the scenery gave me some things to ponder as I wonder what I will eat for snacks and dinner. Viola, I called the resort management and ordered food. What sumptuous food and service. 

The forest fire at night gave a fiery glow to the dark surroundings coupled with fireflies and eerie silence encompassing the still water and deserted resort.

And at six in the morning, another astounding view welcomed me through the terrace of my hotel room. Beyond compare to a restful staycation.

After breakfast, I decided to leave the place with a fresh spirit and a rested foot. The swim gave me something to be hopeful for, that my foot is healing. The place gave me something to look forward to, a second visit. The generosity of time and circumstances gave me something to be thankful for. It was a great rest!

*Have a wonderful Easter Sunday!*

Dreams

I am running so free and so fast that I start to float and then fly. It is eerie as nobody can actually lift themselves high in the air and zoom like a bird, but I did. And there I am, with no wings, able to glide up and down in the sky with no effort. It is fleeting! It is pure magic!



While laying in bed, a figure sits at the side and the weight is felt with its sudden movement. It is startling because it is my grandfather who passed away many, many years ago. I look at his face and he starts sobbing saying, "It is so lonely! It is so lonely." Tears swell in my eyes as well.



Out of breathe, a group of bad people are running after me. The trees protect me as I camouflage myself, giving me some time to rest. Then the sounds of heavy footsteps and crunching leaves and twigs are getting nearer so I run again, to escape. My heart is pounding and as I look back to see whether I am being followed, I keep on running, faster than ever.



And when I am in slumber, a voice is heard calling me to wake up. It is an unfamiliar sound. I know that I am being awaken at past midnight so I dare not open my eyes. The voice is coming from the window right above my bed and the mere fact that I know no one is around made me shiver in fear. I close my eyes tightly and tries hard to ignore the call.



These are some of my dreams. Not once but many times in intervals. I might be stressed out or had certain fears and apprehensions. I find it consoling that I can remember my dreams when I wake up. I also find it disturbing that most of them are enveloped with darkness.

When I dreamt of flying I connect it with the will to be free, to escape. When I see my grandparents in my dreams, it reminds me of my affinity with them. When I dreamt of running away, the everyday dealings with troubles and stresses wear me out thus the fatigue even at sleep. And the voice summoning me to wake up is a call. It might be a message wanting to be shared or a premonition of something bad is to happen. 

Whatever I dream of and whatever interpretations I give to them, it is not upon me to guide my life. My dreams are remnants of my thoughts. To validate my interpretations mean that I believe in other things rather than fate. I pray all the time, before going to bed and when I wake up. It just became a habit to recall my dreams once I open my eyes.