Final Thoughts

**There are a few more posts, that are unfinished, that will be added under the “Bangkla Nights” category**

When we left for Thailand I never imagined how emotional of a trip it would be. I knew I would have fun and I knew it would be great to see where my mom grew up and where my grandfather worked, but it was more than that. I had an opportunity to fall in love with the country and the people that my grandfather and mother know so well. I had an opportunity to grow closer to my mother, who was half way around the world. I had an opportunity to learn about and get to know a cousin that I had grown apart from. I had and opportunity to see my grandfather with an excitement and purpose in his eye that I have never seen before. I had an opportunity to make new friends who provided me with more encouragement than they will ever know.

The things I was able to see and the people I was able to meet have me longing for more. As I sit in a well air-conditioned house in Texas I find myself missing Thailand. I miss mornings and reading with my grandfather, and the evenings spent with my cousin. I miss taking pictures of new things, and I miss having something exciting and new to write about. I miss the faces of friends who have become familiar, and I miss the time spent with those friends, even if we didn’t speak the same language. I have spent two weeks emerging myself in a culture and now I find that I have left a small part of myself behind and replaced it with a small part of something new. In the end, I have had more than a great time, more than words can express, more than photos can capture, and more than the stories I tell will reveal. In the end it was dee tee sut.

Bangkok: Royal Palace, Souvenirs, and Master of the Piki Nu

I know that time is suppose to fly when you are having fun but the past two weeks seem more like a month. As we return to Bangkok early Friday morning, the Baptist hospitality house seems distant. John Mark and I travel with Dui, Gift, and Dift for our day of tourism and shopping while Granddaddy goes with Preecha and his wife to spend the day with Agan Wan, the former pastor of the Baptist Church in Bangkla who is currently serving as the pastor of the largest church in the country.

The situation in Bangkok over the past several months has been a little dicey. Without going into to much detail, there is a revolutionary group, mostly made up of a rural population, know as the Red Shirts. The two months leading up to our trip riots in the shopping district lead to several people dyeing and several more people being injured. The mood calmed before we left, but we knew there was a slight risk on an incident occurring while we were in the country. We had planned to spend two nights in Bangkok, but on Sunday Red Shirts placed bombs in a shopping building close to where we were when we went to Herbalife our first full day in the country. After one of the bombs went off, killing at least one man, our plans were changed and our time in Bangkok limited. Our first stop of the day will be to the Royal Palace, which is in the safe zone, but to drive there we passed by some of the locations the Red Shirts had been at the months before.

In a country with an excess of Asian architecture displayed in their temples and monuments, the palace is still the most impressive thing I have seen. Dui stays with the car and Gift, Dift, John Mark and I pass the guardhouse filled with armed guards and enter the palace gates. As a student who studies history I want to know the details behind everything, but our time does not permit and my on site study of the limited. Instead I spend my time taking pictures. (By the way I think I have decided to never take a picture of myself in front of something with major historic significance. I may take a picture of the thing that has historical significance, but why would I want ruin good history by putting my fat head in the picture. You all should ascribe to my philosophy as well.) We travel the grounds of the royal palace and I thoroughly enjoy my time there.

When our tour is over we leave the palace and hop on an express boat that takes us to the silk shopping area where John Mark purchases the Thai silk his mother requested. We take a break for lunch (FYI Do not eat steaks in Bangkok) and go to a few more places to by souvenirs for our friends and family. The most entertaining thing about our shopping experience is Gift, who is the master of the price haggle. She goes to work and gets us our souvenirs for cheap. The greatest item purchased was the giant chang (elephant) head that John Mark was able to purchase for 500 BAHT ($15). We take all of our purchases and head to the hotel where we pick up our grandfather and leave our shopping bags and luggage.

For dinner we make the short drive to Dui and Gifts where we enjoy our last Thai meal with the people who have been our best friends on the trip. I have some important information for anyone who thought it was funny that I haphazardly burned my mouth the first full day in Bangkla when I ate the piki nu pepper…I have become master of the piki nu. Yes it is true, over the past two weeks I have conditioned my mouth, stomach, and body to handle the heat of the pepper previously describes as, “A jalapeño, soaked overnight in gasoline, lit on fire, with battery acid poured on top of the entire spicy flame drenched concoction.” To prove to my friends and family sitting at the table that I have mastered the pepper, I take a long red pepper and eat it without a tear, a sinful, or a sip of water. I stared the Satan pepper in the eye and said, “Sure I’ll have another,” without flinching. Everyone laughs as I tell them how impressed they should be of me and Dui is proud of how I handled the spicy food. Before long the night has to come to an end. Dui and Gift drive us back to the hotel and we convince them to let the shuttle take us to the airport in the morning. We all hug and say our goodbyes. I try to hold back my tears but a few fall when no is looking. I will truly miss my friends and count the days until I can see them again. We set the alarm for 3:45am so we can make our 4:30am shuttle. The lights are turned off and we go to sleep in Thailand for the last time.

Bangkla: Tying Up Lose Ends, Surprise for Maw Willis, and Korean Fondue

I tend to remember last days, my last day of high school, my last day of college, my last day of any given job. There is something about the near sight of change that plucks a sentimental string and encourages me to make the most of what is left. While my life is no “Carpe Diem” scene played out from The Dead Poet Society, occasionally, I get it right an appreciate what is around me. Thursday is my last day in Bangkla.

I wake up to the same familiar routine that now seems like home and make a list of all of the things I would like to do before I leave Bangkla: take pictures for Aunt Kaye, scan old photographs of the hospital, visit the Baptist Church, spend time writing at Ran Jeck Cheu’s, spend nit noi more time at the hospital watching Granddaddy. I accomplish all of the things on my list and end the workday with my grandfather at the hospital. I sit and observe as he sees his last patient and walk with him back to the apartment for rest some before dinner.

All my grandfather knows about dinner is that Gai and Et have asked us if they can take us out. Gai shares with John Mark and I that she is planning a surprise for Maw Willis. They pick us up at 6:00pm and take us to an open-air restaurant similar to most of the other restaurants we have eaten at. Waiting outside the restaurant is a small group of people. I see the same look on my grandfather’s face that I saw when we first came into view of the hospital, two weeks before. The surprise Gai has planned was calling three or four of the original hospital staff, all senior citizens now, and having them meet us for dinner. What we did not anticipate was those people would call more people. I watch the group of nine as they crowd around my grandfather, who is thrilled beyond measure at his surprise.

We walk into the Korean fondue restaurant and sit down at four tables that have been placed together. Soon our waiter walks to our table with a large stone pot that has burning wood inside. He places the pot on the table, then places a pan on the pot, a guard on the pan and puts a soup in the pan. The pan has a raised dome in the center. Soon bowls filled with different assortments of meat are delivered to our table. A piece of pork fat is place in the top center of the dome and the meat is put around the rest of the dome to cook. Cabbage, noodles, and carrots are placed in the soup to cook. The meal is one of the most interesting I have ever had. The food tastes good and there is plenty to pass around. As the hospital veterans look at old photos, Et commandeers my camera and spends time photographing the group. Towards the end of the meal Agan Neetat arrives to say hello to everyone. He tells me that the tailor has already finished my coat and gives me a bag with my present inside. We laugh, smile for pictures, and stay later then we intend, but it is worth ti to see how much fun my grandfather has. He comments, “This is the perfect cap to a great two weeks.”

Nahonnyak/Prachinburi/Khawhinson: Waterfalls, Dams, The Tailor, and Church

**I will edit and add picture when I have some more time**

I once read a short book that explained the evolution of going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. While in the beginning a beer keg type barrel was employed, through time and technological advancements the barrel turned into a modernized metal role cage in the shape of a barrel. My question is, “Who was the first person to look at Niagara Falls and say, ‘Yup…I need to go over that…in a barrel.’” One of the most awe striking waterfalls in the world, thousands of tourists flock to it’s viewing decks and ferryboats each week. I have never seen it in person but I have seen the Nahonnyak, Thailand equivalent.

Wednesday morning I wake up to my normal routine. After our morning skype calls, I find a box of old photographs and begin looking through them in search of pictures of anyone I am related to. Before I get very far, I am visited by Agan Neetat who offers to take me and show me around the provinces of Nahonnyak and Prachinburi. I agree and within 15 minutes I am in his truck riding down the highway. While we drive, he spends time trying to teach me Thai, Kou, Kou, Kou (which means white, news, and rice). He also tells me the story of how he was influential in bringing the hospital to Bangkla. When we arrive in Nahonnyak we drive into a national park. As I get out of the car I am told that we are going to see the waterfall. We walk across a parking lot, over a bridge and down some stone steps. When I get my first gimps of the waterfall, my initial reaction is, “this is it?” The fast flowing rapids were very calming and nice, a fact which the many picnickers around me had figured out, but they were simply not the three hundred foot waterfall falling from a cliff, that I expected to see. Though I am confident that I could easily survive a barrel trip down the falls I resign to snap several pictures. I pose for several more photos as Agan Neetat once again produces his Cybershot.

We look at the waterfall a few more minutes and then jump back into the truck. While driving he asks me if I am impressed with my driver, who is 81 and still able to drive. I tell Agan Neetat I am impressed at his skill, which pleases him greatly. We drive further into Nahonnyak and in the distance I see what looks like a giant wall. As we get closer I can see that the wall is actually a dam. We drive up to the top of the dam, that is a kilometer in length. The water in lake created by the structure is low because of the dry season but will rise over the next few months. I am impressed at it's size and make sure I take several picture of it. I climb back into Agan Neetat’s truck and we leave to find a suitable restaurant for lunch. After more searching than either of us desired, we stop at a roadside place with a half basement that serves us a delicious lunch. With our hunger suppressed we get back on the road and drive to the Prachinburi province. The reason for Agan Neetat has taken me to Nahonnyak and Prachinburi is because both places were being considered as locations to build the Bangkla Baptist Hospital (obviously they would have changed the name if it had been in either place instead of Bangkla). We drive through the province, but don’t get out of the truck as Agan Neetat points out several things in the city.

On the trip back to Bangkla I comment on the black coat my driver is wearing. His response is, “You like?! Okay we will go to the tailor, I will get you one made for you.” Even though I try to refuse his offer, fifteen minutes later I have a small Thai man wrapping a measuring tape around my chest and running it down my arms. After I am measured for my coat, we discuss how I will get the jacket that I am told will take one week to make. I write my address down on a piece of cardstock and hand it the old family friend. We arrive back at the hospital, I bid Agan Neetat farewell and I walk over to the apartment to look over my teaching for the Wednesday evening worship service.

Agan Weecahi, had asked me a few days before if I would like to teach on prayer on Wednesday night in a church in Khawhinson. Having spent time reading over a few passages, my grandfather, John Mark and I climb into Agan Weechai’s van and along with Agan Weechai, Voot, and Um we head to Khawhinson. When we arrive we eat a meal together and have a nice worship service. It is difficult, especially after you have just delivered a lesson on the subject, to sit for thirty minutes and listen to prayers in a language you do not understand. I try to stay in a spirit of prayer, but my drooping eyes, and bobbing head are relieved when the service ends. Following the service we spend time speaking to many of the church memebers. The most impressive church members are two young girls, Sarah and Haley. Both girls are in elementary school, fifth and second grade, and speak the best English of anyone I have heard in the country. With names like Hailey and Sarah, at first I think that their father may be American, and they have spent time in the US, but when I as where they are from, I am told, “Thailand.” When I ask the my second question, “Where did you learn to speak English so well,” they respond with, “School.” We sit and chat a bit longer before climbing back in the van, but eventually and return to the Apartment to get some rest before our last day in Bangkla.

Bangkla: The Search, Bird Seed Donuts, and Supachai

I have never actually met Peter Butcher. My mother’s childhood friend, and her partner in crime, I couldn’t recognize in a lineup of two. Having never met him, I know, surprisingly, quite a bit about his childhood. The time he and mom got stuck on a tree limb when they tried to make a pulley system elevator for their tree house, without a pulley, may be my favorite story. I have come to realize that the people you get in trouble with as a child, are also the people who witnessed your greatest childhood moments, for my mother that was Peter Butcher.

On Tuesday morning I participate in my usual routine of reading with my grandfather, morning chapel, and skype calls home. I then begin my search. My mother has told me of a tree where her and Peter Butcher’s initials are carved. I have Granddaddy draw me a crude map on a paper towel, change into shorts and a t-shirt, put on my sunglasses, grab my camera bag, and head out into the city. It took me a bit of time but I finally located my mother’s old house. I walk into the yard and set off the Thailand Home Security System, otherwise known as a dog. I search the yard and the yards of both the houses close by but have little success in finding the tree or even one old enough to have been around when my mom grew up in Thailand. After twenty minutes I come to the conclusion that the tree my mother’s name is on has been cut down.

Instead of returning to the hospital I decide to walk around a bit more and end up at the floating market. I wonder around, moving from stall to stall to see if there is anything worth purchasing. When I come to a vendor making what looks like donuts, I stop and take a few minutes to watch the process. The man cooking the food takes, what looks like birdseed dough, dips it in a liquid batter and puts the whole thing into a fryer. When I ask about the food I am given a sample. The flavor is similar to a deep fried whole grain granola bar, it is delicious and I purchase a small bag of the donuts.

When I return to the hospital campus and to the apartment, we take a few hours to rest before Supachai, and old family friend picks us up for dinner. Supachai was nineteen when he began working in the hospital office. Overtime he became the hospital administrator, and he is now the mayor of Bangkla. When it is time for dinner two black vehicles pull in front of the apartment, a Toyota Fortunner (no it is not a typo there is a toyota vehicle in Asia called a Fortunner) with the Bangkla city seal on side, and a sedan who’s make and model I did not catch. John Mark and I are introduced to Supachai, his wife, and their daughter, and everyone climbs into the vehicles. We drive fifteen minutes to Chacheangsao and to a Chinese restaurant. When we are lead to an enclose air-conditioned room I am surprise, it is the first time I have eaten in a restaurant that is inside and air-conditioned since the Banana Leaf, my first day in the country. As I look around, I notice the restaurant is strangely empty. I ask my grandfather why this is and after a few minutes we determine that the restaurant may have been rented out for us. As we sit and enjoy our meal, I hear stories about my mother, and how I am loud like she is. At the end of our meal a large plate of multi-colored sticky rice and mangos appears and we enjoy the dessert thoroughly. It is a pleasant evening and I am honored to finally have met Supachai, a man I have heard about for several years. We return to the apartment, say good by to new (old) friends and we retire to mine and John Mark’s bedroom where I tell my grandfather and my cousin about my life. It is a great night.

Bangkla Nights: Dr. Harlan Willis pt 1

Possibly the most enjoyable thing about Thailand has been the time spent with my cousin and grandfather getting to know each other better. The nights in Bangkla the three of us spent sitting on two twin beds telling teach other about our lives, have been filled with laughter, a bit of sadness, and a closeness between and grandfather and his grandsons. The Bangkla Nights posts are a result of those nights, they are meant to tell stories of meaning, closeness, and family.

To say everything there is to be said about my grandfather would take an entire book. To say everything there is to be said about the people who’s lives he has touched would take volumes. Since I don’t currently have the time or complete knowledge to write either in these posts I would like to tell you about the two sides of my grandfather I have seen the most while I have been in Thailand. While the two go hand-in-hand and cannot be separated, for the purpose of these posts I will attempt to separate them. The first of the two posts follows:

Harlan Willis M.D.

When his youngest daughter (and youngest child at the time) was only three Dr. Harlan Willis moved his family to Thailand. Following two years of intense language school, learning tropical medicine, and the planning and building of a hospital he and his family moved to the small Thai town of Bangkla. I doubt the first night in Bangkla, sleeping in his bed in a newly built house he had any idea the number of lives he would save.

I remember during vacations to Granny and Granddaddy’s house we would always visit his office. The air-conditioned St. Mary’s clinic, in Brownfield Texas was half way around the world from Bangkla but it is where I can remember sitting on an exam room table while he listen to my heart. My knowledge of my grandfather’s professional work has been his work in his office, the hospital, and OR in Brownfield, as well as his post retirement work in the Lubbock Community Health Clinic. Until the past two weeks the stories I have heard about his work in Thailand have been distant stories about a distant land. But, Ever since we turned onto the Hospital’s driveway on July 20th and he got his first glimpse of the Hospital he helped to build, I have seen a different side of my grandfather. Suddenly the stories I have heard all of my life no longer seem distant but real.

On our first day in the clinic he gave us a tour of the hospital and took us to the Surgery Department. He referred to the building as the inner sanctum. Hearing the excitement in his voice as he told stories of marathon surgeries and how much he loved it, made me feel like I was small child again, hanging on his every word. To hear him tell stories of water shortages, power outages, operations by candle light, the installation of central oxygen, working with his operating team, and to be able to see the places everything took place paints a vivid picture of part of him I have never known first hand.

My grandfather has always told anyone under his teaching that, “Hard work builds character.” I have always taken this lesson to heart, but what he has failed to tell me is how much of his character he put into his hard work. I have never doubted he worked hard, and I have never doubted that he is a man of incredible character but when I look at the Hospital and the countless lives that were changed because of it, I see the character of my grandfather.

While his first night in Bangkla, Harlan Willis, might not have had any idea about the number of lives that would be saved through his work, he most definitely didn’t know that almost fifty years later, he would be at the hospital he built showing two of his grandsons his life's work. And what he didn’t know and may still not, is the impact his work has had on my life. After the past two weeks I am not only more proud than ever to be his grandson, but I am honored beyond words to learn from a teacher of such character.