I've spent three weeks now in the Village of Kham Pia.

I've made a friend named Ying. She's 24 and has a boyfriend with two children. I've eaten dinner at thier house three out of the last four nights. Saang Jan the woman next door comes over every evening with her family and we all eat together. Saang Jan is a quick-witted woman and makes us laugh a lot. They taught me a little Thai massage last night, Ying having been a professional Thai masseuse in a tourist city for some time. Saang Jan's baby screamed and cried as her mother massaged me. She thought I was being tortured. Later the baby pooped on the floor and nobody noticed the big slops until she stood up refreshed and walked away. This gave us the giggles.



Ying and I trekked up Phu Wua, the mountainous jungle, on Saturday without a guide. She had never been and I'd only been one time before. I teach her English and she teaches me Thai. We speak together in both.

Work is still terribly inconsistent and I’m still trying to find some meaningful work that I like. I visited a hospital on Friday and asked if I could volunteer here. They accepted my young age and lack of experience and kindly showed me around the hospital. In the end the doctor said that he was so happy that I was there and he said that in this hospital they have an open mind and I can learn a whole lot. I think of my dad, the doctor.

I went to Ying's house the other night and Yuod, the sister who is about 59 years old in my home stay stopped by the house and told me I needed to come home. It was only about 8:20. A man who was with us said to me and gesturing to Yuod, "My mother." I agreed sulkily, "My mother." The sister of the house is not a very kind woman and Bunleod says that she is crazy, literally crazy.
Bunleod has been good to me. He has taken very good care that I am comfortable. Lately he's been very worried that I am not happy because of his sister's harsh words and random moods. But I'm okay. I can deal with this. I think it's better that I can't understand her snide remarks most of the time. But I’d like to move to Ying’s house if I can…


When a person dies, the whole village comes together and celebrates with dancing and food. But unfortunately at this particular memorial concert, the drunken boys formed into gangs according to village and began to fight. Most people waited around till everyone was calmed, so they could walk home safely.


I went to two weddings. One in the Village of Kham Pia with two beautiful Thais and the other in a neighboring village with a Pharang (white person) and a Thai woman. The wedding with the Pharang was situated right on the Mekong river. I sat on the steps leading down to the big Mekong beach taking in the incredible shooting mountains just across the water and the light purple moon above them. I sat and unexpectedly also watched several Thais walk down the steps and squat or stand and do their business. This seemed all very natural to them and they didn’t seem to mind my gazing eyes. Soon enough children showed me the way. They raced onto the beach and I after them. Oh the excitement of wide open spaces. We reached the water and waded in, then chased each other and did cart-wheels. I had to go to the bathroom (Number 1) and thought I might as well do it right here as the others had. I told the children to go away but they rebelled but finally with some pressing retreated some. I went behind some tall grasses and the one girl in the group stood guard. I squatted and went for only for a few seconds and stood up again. One of the little boys said “nic noi” which means “only a little bit.” I was thoroughly embarrassed but laughed and laughed. When I went back to the wedding I was ready to dance and danced and danced. And the people loved to see a white girl dance.



Ams has become my buddy in the neighborhood. He's a leader among the youngest children and loves to play with Yugio cards.

My mom wanted me to tell this story: The second week I was in Kham Pia there was one day where I was especially lonely and did not have enough to do. I journeyed out into the rice fields to relax and be in nature. On the path I decided to lay down and look up at the sky. I stayed there for a good while watching the itty bitty clouds drift overhead. Soon I heard a man yell something and knew that there must be two people in the nearby rubber tree plantation. I stayed where I was not thinking much of the men and then soon stood up to go home. But as soon as I stood up the man at the rubber tree plantation yelled many Thai words I didn't understand and then kept saying "Mai pen rai, mai pen rai," which means "no worries, no worries." I was confused and walked over to him. He showed me with body language a gun that was shooting something on the ground. I was shocked and thought maybe it was hunting time and I had better get out of there. A second later a man on a motorcycle drove up. The two men conversed in Thai and then without another word but with a sour face the man on the bike turned around and headed back up the trail. The first man told me again, “Mai pen rai, mai pen rai.” So I turned and left and as I walked up the trail I realized what had happened. This man had seen my body and had thought I was dead. He called the leader of the village and this was the man on the motor cycle who left when he saw that I was indeed not dead. As I walked down the street a family called out to me and gestured the shooting gun. Oh I was embarrassed. It had already gotten around. I reached home and Bunleod was waiting and said to me, “What happened today? You die?” Ohhhh. Bunleod and his nephew had great laughs over this. So thus far I am known in the village as the girl who died and rose up again.

Thanks for all of your thoughts and love.
Julia