As time rolls on...

You know, I feel like it's been forever since I wrote anything on my blog much less posted new pictures. I suppose that could be taken as a good sign that I'm doing really well, happy and don't have that much time to do updates. For the most part, that is pretty true. As I've entered into my second year of my service as a Peace Corps volunteer here in Thailand, I can't help but feel more comfortable, both in my work and my community. The language barrier that was at the beginning such a monumental task has become less and less restricting. I'm able to enter most situations and feel comfortable speaking Thai with the people around me. At work, I've gotten into the routine of a Thai school year and all the various surprises that might come with it. I've made good friends here in my town and just hope these next eight months before I return to the U. S. don't fly by too quickly.

I'll share one really interesting story that happened to me about a month and a half ago. I thought at one point that I had seen most of what Thailand had to offer, but it never ceases to surprise me what you might find on any given day. I was riding my bike home from school one day in May when, as usual, I passed by the local store on my street. I stopped and chatted for a bit as I try to do everyday. They are a great family and always welcoming and interested in what's going on in my life. There are three sisters that live within this compound of three houses, and the youngest sister, Jarune, owns the shop at front. She's a lively woman, and a natural leader. Even last year when I only understood a little of what was being talked about I could tell this lady had it together. She is the only member of her family that has traveled abroad, and she seems at ease in almost any situation. This particular day as I hopped off my bike and strolled up to the little garage where everyone hangs out, I noticed that Jarune sprawled out on the hammock towards the back. Her hand to her head, a weary look on her face. I could just feel her headache by looking at her. I felt tired just seeing her laid out like that. I asked her what was up and she said she'd been to the local doctor and the city doctor and no one can figure it out. She had been unable to sleep for more than a week. Terrible headaches. Low energy. What was she going to do, I asked. She and her family decided that the ailment must be related to her spirit, and obviously there was another spirit in her that was causing these symptoms. It was a spirit of a man that lived long ago. Not someone related to her, but someone that sought her out for no apparent reason. And this spirit was hungry for chicken. And whiskey. And likes boats. Banana boats. I'm not even trying to joke.

This information about the spirit came from the local witch doctor in our village who has made somewhat of a career of exorcising spirits from ailing villagers before or after they've gone for other medical help. The witch doctor did the consultation and requested Jarune to return the following night for the ritual. Fortunately, the day I stopped and asked her what was the matter was the same day they were going to the exorcism. They invited me along and I quickly accepted. After all, this was something I've never seen in my life. Not more than an hour later, myself, Jarune and nearly the entirety of her family are cruising across town. We pulled into a dusty, little street and parked next to a tin shack with trash strewn about the side and back. A short walk brought us to a little wooden, sitting hut that are common all across Thailand. It's where people come to sit and socialize. A crowd of older woman are already gathered gossiping and preparing the materials needed. In our case, a boat was being fashioned out of banana leaves, a chicken had already been roasted, head and all, and the whiskey was purchased by yours truly before we arrived. 100% rice whiskey. The stuff is awful.

A string was tied around Jarune and then placed between the hands of the witch doctor. She began by praying and talking. The way I understood it, she was basically talking with the spirit, asking it why it had come. Why wasn't it satisfied with it's existence. It should accept these gifts brought by Jarune and her family and then go on. Go rest in peace. Not only was the witch doctor speaking, but at any giving point, the whole of Jarune's family was talking to this spirit. Gently persuading it to go away from here and take the chicken with it. As the talking was going on, whiskey was being poured, slowly and carefully into the beak of the roasted chicken. Not dumping it on its head. Making the dead chicken drink, in little beakfuls, the whiskey. Just like you'd carefully give a baby it's food. Making sure not to spill any of it.

The speaking began to escalate at one point and everyone joined in, even me. Everybody was doing an eerie call of some sort. A call, they explained would help take the spirit away. Kind of a "yeeeeehooooooo!!!" I couldn't help but turn my head and snicker at points. Even some of the younger kids found it hysterical. We eventually ceased this calling and managed to capture the spirit in a boiled egg that was cradled by the witch doctor and then handed to Jarune. Jarune proceeded to cradle it also before she cracked it open and handed everyone a small piece.

"This," she said, "you must eat in three bites. No more, no less." So, one, two, three. I'm not sure how I feel about boiled spirit eggs, but it wasn't bad. That spirit could have used a little salt, I suppose.

Finished, we all strolled back and Jarune decided she felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. She knew whatever it was that had ailed her was passing already. I can't say it wasn't just her immune system finally kicking in, or her mind willing it to be over, but maybe there was a different kind of energy that required everything I saw. Either way, I learned that boiled eggs don't just come around on Easter.