A Difficult Few Days

Early last week I traveled to Malaysia on my own to make a visa run. The trip was actually a very good one filled with delicious Indian food, a trip to a temple, and new friends from around the globe. I will try to post pictures shortly. These past few days have been very difficult for many here in Nakhon. On February 5, a fellow teacher went missing. I know I have not updated in a while... here are a few journal entries cut and pasted...

February 5, 2011

A is missing. Today, a group of teachers went to the waterfalls in Nakhon. The trail, the sights, everything about the waterfalls is supposed to be just beautiful. There’s seven levels to hike up to. A was on the second. And he slipped. Over the edge. And now he is missing. We’ve been trying to piece everything together- who was with him, where exactly it was, what’s happening now. Has his family been contacted? Why aren’t we searching now, even though it’s dark?

My mind is reeling. I was just with him. Last night. We went to a fair at the south end of Nakhon. We talked about not being afraid, taking chances. It was about something as trivial as driving a motorbike. I am apprehensive about getting one. I told him there’s just so many ways to die in this country, why add one more to the list? He’s been in more crashes… well, he’s been in a few, to say the least. “You can’t not ride one!” he told me, “That’s what life is- you get scraped up, but you make it, you know? And you live to tell about it. And if you go on a motorbike- well, that’s a glorious way to go.” 

He just celebrated his 25^th birthday. He said it was the most amazing birthday he’d ever had in his whole life, honestly, he said.

There are many things about the universe and about life and existence in the world that I just don’t know, and refuse to make any kind of assumption about. But sometimes you meet people, and you know that all these questions you have, well, they seem to know the answers. I believe in old souls- that there are some people in this world… well, this life, it ain’t their first rodeo. They are wise beyond their years, and seem to have this demeanor about them, because these people, these old souls, they know. And there is a very real, very certain peacefulness about them. A, I think he is an old soul.

I hope, because although I have only known him for a month, I know that he is adored, loved, held dear to many, I hope God hasn’t taken him from this earth yet. But if He has, I think it was because A was ready. He seemed to know and understand way more at the age of 25 than I could ever contemplate wrapping my mind around now or maybe ever. 

Tomorrow, we search for him, comb the national park. I hope we find him, and that he is alive. But many of us know our hope is not as realistic as we want it to be. I imagine how it went down, what happened to him the moment he slipped. It makes me wince, it makes my stomach turn. Either he is still here on this earth, or he went in peace. No matter, he is still living on somewhere. Whatever happened, I know A is riding it out.

February 6, 2011

We went to the falls today; a big group of us foreigners, plus some Thai teachers and friends. Everyone was right- it is a beautiful place, one I wish I wasn't seeing for the first time in this way, searching for a missing friend. We split up into groups, searching left, right, upstream, downstream, across the river, and in the river. Eventually, we all ended up at the same part- where the Level 2 waterfall spills down. We had only been searching for about an hour. I came down the trail with the group I was searching with, and so many people, Thai and farang, were just standing there, at the edge of the water. I asked, and a fellow teacher turned around and told me: They had found him. For a brief moment, I was hopeful, that these men clustered in a circle on the edge of the rock were assessing A's injuries, that it was bad, but that he made it. 

I was wrong. We all stood there, without words, without sound. I swear, I know the river was rushing directly in front of me, but I heard nothing.

Since then, the day has seemed to drag on. All but about two of us went down to the trailhead to wait while Thai officials from the park, police, and I assume locals as well all tried to pull A’s body from the river. I didn't stay. Later I learned that the first rope they strung across the river to use to get him out snapped, and that no matter what they tried, they were not successful. So they strung a second rope, a much thinner one because it was all they had, and paid the river. Literally, they threw Thai baht into the river and then prayed to the river to let A go. And immediately after, his body came to the surface.

Down at the bottom, as we were all loading into cars and onto motorbikes, a Thai man began yelling. At everyone. Once we got to the church, a person told us what he had been saying. He was angry, because didn’t we know? Three people die there every year. Three people! What did we expect when we hiked up there, he wanted to know. I could feel him, disapproving so much of us farangs for not understanding, and he was talking to all of us, even those who hadn’t even been there before.

We went to the hospital after that, where a blessing was made over his body. There will be a service tonight at Bethlehem Church in Nakhon. His family was called yesterday evening, as soon as someone could find their number, to tell them that he was missing. Then they were called again today, when he was found. We aren’t sure what will happen next, whether his parents will be coming out here or if the U.S. Embassy will be handling “matters” from here. Everyone is just devastated.

I can only imagine what his family is feeling right now, his friends who have known him for years, his friends who have come to know him here. I have only known him a month myself, but in less time than that, I knew that even if you only met him just for a second, if he was only the smallest part of your life, well, then you were blessed. Blessed is he or she who has known A. A with the singing waffle with whipped cream eyes tattoo, A who believes with his whole self that there is something greater than you and me and this earth, A who genuinely cares for everyone, about everyone, and wants to know more about everyone. And hey, if the falls were a way to go, well, it was a glorious way. His family said they had only heard about how much he loved everyone here, and they knew how much he loved it here. They said that at least they know he went doing something he loved. A, I know your time here was done, and you have moved on to something greater. I am in awe of how many people you touched through your life here. You were blessed and so were we.

February 7, 2011

Today I went to school while the other teachers stayed home to be with each other. I did this for two reasons. One, I feel like they deserve this time to be together. They were all so close to A, and are all hurting so deeply. It makes me hurt to see my new friends and Nakhonian family hurting, and since I know they have each other, all of their memories with A, they should be together and take the time they feel they need. So I told them I would cover all their classes. Second, I just feel like I deal with death differently than most. It’s internal, for the most part, and I take time to reflect on this amazing person’s life, life in general, and my own life, bank it into my schema of belief and experience, and know that life goes on. Thus, I was with the students, covering two classes each period. It was busy, but it was good.

A beautiful, smart teacher I work with said it perfectly last night, as everyone gathered after services at Lifestyle:

A was constantly getting bumps and bruises, scrapes and injuries. When you think about it, his body was a kind of limit for him, one that he was constantly putting to the test, trying to get past. Now, his spirit is free from his body, and he is able to do all the things he wasn’t able to as a person here on this earth.

After school, I went to the church where A’s service was last night. In Thailand, funerals often last for about a week, in Buddhist tradition, so that family and loved ones can spend time with the deceased, pray for safe passage into the next life, and say their final goodbyes. One of our friends married a native Nakhonian, whose family is Thai Buddhist, and she described how beautiful it was when, upon the death of her husband's brother, the family slept beside him for two days at the temple. A’s funeral is a mix of Thai, Catholic, and Protestant tradition, West and East coming together to mourn the loss of this person on this earth. 

His casket, air-conditioned, cream with intricate gold designs swirling about the outside and a lovely pepto-bismol pink I know he would appreciate on the inside, makes up the center of the altar, lifted above the ground about three feet. It is surrounded by flowers. Flowers from his school, flowers from the church and the hospital, flowers from students and co-workers and friends. To the left is a large, blown-up picture of A as I have never seen him, apparently what he looked like when he first started working here in Nakhon. Gone is his pouf of loose brown curls in favor of a more conservative, short haircut, and he has no facial hair. He wears a red and white gingham button-down, all things foreign to the A I knew and adored, but his smile is still the same. Lining the floor are framed photos brought in by his friends- A in Haad Yuan at Full Moon parties and Guy’s Bar, both of which I have never been to. Someone, presumably a student, has drawn a picture of A and taped it to his coffin. In the middle of the altar, on the floor, is incense and a candle, a place to kneel and pray.

When I walked in this afternoon, around four-thirty or five o’clock, I don’t know exactly what I expected, but I did not expect so many of his students to be there. I think I supposed, because of the time of day, that no one would really be there around this time, but they were. Kneeling, praying, lighting incense, the smoke curling, to help usher A along. Four or five at a time, sometimes only one or two, quiet with heads bowed down. When I came in, I did the same, and then took a seat in the back. No one was crying. A few stayed after they lit the incense and prayed, taking seats in the chairs, staring ahead at A’s casket. For being here less than a year, I cannot believe the outpour of love I have seen for this soul. Actually, I think that’s wrong. I can believe it, he was such an amazing person, but seeing it is still overwhelming. Watching these young people come in, it was beautiful. It was refreshing. It made me love life and humanity. I’m not exactly sure I can articulate everything I am feeling right now- I think it was everything A would have wanted, probably more than he expected as well.

Tomorrow I will go to school again, tomorrow I will still continue to live, to explore, and to learn. I will try to always remember in my heart all the good that A gave and keep kindness in my heart. I will try to be the person who knows peace, as A did and does, and live my life to the fullest.