The trip this summer with the 2019 I.B. cohort to Thailand and Laos was incredible. Our great Southeast Asia adventure allowed us to dive into some of the deeper issues that the nations of Laos and Thailand are currently dealing with but also gain a beautiful understanding of the kindness and compassion that rest as the clear foundation of both the Laos, "Land of a Million Elephants, and Thailand, the "Land of Smiles". In Udon Thani, Thailand, a northern city of just over 300, 000, dirt roads curve and sprawl through dusty back roads but then almost immediately turn into crowded high ways alongside vast rice fields and swampland. The beauty of the Udon Thani is in its diversity and ability to hold on its history and culture, at the same time as stretch respectfully toward the future. In Na Som Village, a small community of just over a 1,000 Hmong people and whom are fairly new to the mountainous uplands of its town, Vang Vieng (only having built their village in the last 60 years), development tends to be much slower and more affected by weather and seasons - not to mention limited access to resources. The village's proximity to the city, many hours away, makes sustainability and stewardship their main priority. Everyone in the village, child and chief alike, work in the rice fields to provide sustenance for their families as well as their neighbor. Being able to experience both of these cities and work with and alongside the people allowed for conversations and relationships to these beautiful people to develop as we traveled. * * * UDON THANI, THAILAND The first leg of our trip in Udon Thani was meant to prepare us for our service work. We spent roughly 6 days at their Ricefields Base, a beautiful location set on a working rice field, across the street from a Buddhist temple and right outside a small, but busy residential town. Aside from team-building activities at night and a couple nights out on the town, and an incredible conversation about enlightenment and overcoming personal adversity with a monk, our main priority was to prepare us to assist nearby villages with their healthcare needs. We spent 3 days in class, learning first about what health care and first-aid looks like in the wilderness where hospitals and medical professionals are limited. The WFA (Wilderness First-Aid) certification course prepares individuals to respond to medical disasters safely and with professionalism, compassion and a necessary vision. The hands-on course walked us through a dozen hypothetical situations that would help us to develop the critical thinking skills needed to not just respond to emergencies, but help better prepare us for any situation. The course, though technically meant for the wilderness, or outdoors, urges students to become stewards of their own communities and rather see "wilderness" as any place that does not have immediate access to medical care. In other words, an elevator with no cell service could be considered "wilderness" even if it's just blocks from a hospital. A difficult hike with ill-prepared hikers might be "wilderness" even if its within a few miles of medical help because of the problems heat and dehydration cause to a person's state of mind as well as their physical condition. A plane could be considered "wilderness" because of the time it would take for an individual to receive help they might need in the case of emergency. The course teaches preparation for life and for saving life. During this course, we learned how to analyze emergency situations in regards to the injured and the physical parameters; provide immediate care specific to those in need; and determine severity of an issue and any particulars in order to properly assist medical professionals and Evac teams. It was an amazing, eye-opening course that every person should take. Should any of us seek further education, our current certification would help us become trained medical first-responders, a credential any person should be proud to have. Our time in Udon Thani, while primarily was to become WFA-certified, was also to understand and be able to provide medical care to surrounding villages. Many families in Udon Thani and its outskirts don't have access to the health care they need, and medical professionals who work in the cities rarely make it out to the villages where their help is mostly needed. Many families will travel days for medical care in the event of an emergency and then wait in long lines, sometimes 24 hours, to be seen. To help eliminate crowded lines and clear clinic waiting rooms, the doctors rely on health care and volunteer-based organizations such as Rustic Pathways to go to these villages, seeing both children and elderly, and recording medical information for the doctors. The doctors go through the records and determine which patients and villages are most in need of care and require immediate attention. Being a part of this team and knowing the worth we have to these villages and these doctors was a respectable endeavor; but being able to actually go to the temple and provide care to 60 elderly people and then a school of over 100 was an unforgettable experience. As one might expect, our awesome team of Kaiser students were well-prepared after training and enthusiastic (though perhaps a little anxious at first) about the chance to serve this community. Our first session took place on an early morning at a nearby temple. We set up our medical station on the temple grounds and waited for patients. At 8 o'clock, they began to arrive and our make-shift medical clinic began to bustle. As each patient went through each station, they laughed with each other and us, happy to be with us and to be receiving care. We tried out our fresh vocab, trying to making them feel comfortable and calm, though it mainly just brought giggles and smiles. Sawatdee! (Hello) Sabaaidi mai? (How are you?) Sabaiidi (I'm good!) Kon Chun Arai? (What is your name?) Pom chu Paul. (My name is Paul.) Each person's check-up took about 5 minutes and ended with a bowl of soup, and a Khop Kun (Thank you!)! The second session of the day was at a nearby school where we set up a station to see their youngest. The students were so happy to see us and their curious faces were filled with wonder and excitement as they came in, 1, 2, 3 at a time and got checked for lice, sores and any other concerns that we could spot at a glance. We used a checklist for this session and made markings for severity or frequency of certain issues, like cuts on their hands (maybe from playing in the yard) or sores on their arms (possibly minor untreated infections or mysterious lesions or bumps. We were saddened to see how many students had lice, and we suspect the school was sent proper medical care shortly thereafter. Towards the end of our Udon Thani trip, we had the rare opportunity to meet with two villagers that Rustic has a special relationship with. The first was a mother and her daughter, disabled from birth, who had been left by the father and who had taken the other healthy daughter. In an area where survival and healthcare is such a complex issue, a mother and daughter in this state suddenly abandoned by the only adult able to work full-time would ordinarily be a serious matter. The elder son had also left and went to college at a university in Bangkok. The family and the community are still hoping and praying he returns to the village to use his education and help their situation. In the meantime, Rustic has chosen this family as one of the many they provide specialized care for. Hearing this story and understanding the already dire situation much of this area is in anyhow in regards to health care was heartbreaking. While we sat with her on her living room straw-woven mat and talked for awhile, it was easy to understand that there are large parts of life and living on this planet that are just too far outside our grasp, that if we don't at least try to get there, and be there, mind, body and spirit, we'll never see them and never allow for those parts of ourselves to grow. Perhaps this encounter and this part of the trip was the most significant for me. Our time in Udon Thani had really opened all our eyes to much larger issues that don't quite make it into our little corners of this world, that books, film and studies don't come close to touching. * * * NA SOM VILLAGE, LAOS The second part of our trip took us up to the highlands of Vang Vieng, to a small Hmong village called Na Som. The people of the village traveled there and developed their village just about 50 years ago, so it's relatively new but contains some rich customs and traditions nonetheless. While driving up the hill side to the village, we passed several resorts. It would come up later in conversation as we looked at some of the issues related to having a resort and resort-activities so close to an indigenous small village. As we pulled into the village late into the evening after a full day of driving, we unloaded into our new home for the days, a home that had been built by other students and groups in years past. As we strung up our mosquito nets, realized there was no Wi-Fi and took a tour around the home base, it became pretty clear: the days of air-conditioned living at the Ricefields Base were definitely over. The "rustic" nature of our travel program was definitely upon us - a reality that we were all actually looking forward to. While our stay in Na Som Village featured full service, cultural activities, night life and local adventure, our service project was at the center of our purpose there. The school only recently developed buildings with walls, ceilings and floors. Our project was primarily to install tile floor in two of their rooms and on the lanai that wrapped around the building. For most of us, tiling was a new skill we had to learn to develop. Making cement, grouting, and measuring and cutting tiles were among the skills we learned quickly from the people in the village and with whom we worked for the next few days. On the second day of service, the village gave us another task - to build a flagpole. In the Na Som village (and perhaps others), the Laotian government appropriates extra funds and resources for schools that fly the national flag. Tiling the floors was helpful as it provided an aesthetic appeal to the classrooms for the children that made a world of difference, but for the school master and the village, the flagpole could be used to solve financial issues that extend possibly outside the walls of the school. On one of our afternoons, we were fortunate to sit with the a few of the important elders of the village. We were honored to that the two chiefs of the village (a man and woman), the school master, the head of the women's union, and the people's spokesperson took time to sit with us and answer questions about their village and culture. To hear directly from an indigenous people without having to read and interpret it in a book or documentary hoping we get it right was a thrilling experience. Knowledge gained through experience and a gaining of perspective quickly turns itself into wisdom and a depth of understanding that is sorely missed out on if we for a second stop listening. In this conversation we learned quickly the goals of the village. Education plays a large role in their village as many students will leave the village seeking employment and education elsewhere. The school master shared that he wishes people that are educated in the village and become wise to the world around them through a furthering of education - skilled in trade and vocation - return to the village to provide aid. I think we have something in common! We also learned the importance of community in this village. The chief shared with us that every single person spends time in the rice fields. Because of the extreme seasonal shifts, only half the year produces rice in great quantity. Being their only real crop - a staple food as well as an economical resource to sell to nearby villages and hotels - having everyone in the fields during the planting seasons is incredibly important. The chief himself had just come in from the fields and mentioned he'd be returning when our conversation was finished. This was inspiring to hear. This type of leadership is what makes a community thrive. To know that they're all in this together must be a realization that brings the community a great deal of satisfaction, respect of each other's value and improve the relationships within the village. While many of the evenings were quiet and spent storytelling and playing games like "Black Magic" and "Snaps", we did take one evening to head down to the city of Vang Vieng. During the daytime in the village, while we were playing soccer with the children, talking to the locals or working on our service projects, tourists would speed through the village in their dune-buggies, throwing up mud and dirt on the homes, and endangering the lives of the people and the animals. It was hard to watch occur in such a beautifully raw and natural village. To head down into the bustling town's nightlife 30 minutes away was a shock, that despite the daily nuisance of the tourists driving through the village, caught us all off guard. As we unloaded from our vans, tourist groups piled out into the streets from their Jeeps, wet with the river and bottle, half-naked, loud and boisterous ready to take on the night. To think, just 20 minutes away from this chaos was a village with barely enough electricity, that depended on a crop only available if the season and weather were right, schools that are still being tiled and water that was only just recently piped in from a nearby river. We did have a wonderful time that evening, enjoying the food, music and shopping. When traveling in different countries, exploring the nightlife and economy can be just as important and seeing the people as they are. It raises important questions about development and sustainability that everyone everywhere can benefit from. But of course, this conversations have to be had. Our time in Laos wouldn't be complete without adventure. Hiking into the caves nearby our Village and cooling off after a day of service at the nearby dam were among my personal favorites. For some, hiking into a cave was a new experience. But to mediate in the back of the cave in complete darkness was an awesome way to take it up another level! Kayaking down a river and swimming in the Blue Lagoon were all excellent ways to take a break from the hot and muggy days that were pretty much the daily weather conditions. Laos is such a beautiful place. The landscapes and horizons, sheer cliffs and rice fields make for beautiful walks out in nature. Many of the us took advantage of this by waking up early and going for a jog through the village. Of course...many did not and preferred to sleep in. Like me. As our time in Laos came to a close, we had one final dinner together. Some of the village's elders came to eat with us and then, afterwards, treated us to a traditional celebration. After some words were shared by the chief about our work in the village and our time spent there, each of the elders came around to each of us and tied a white string around our wrists as they said a prayer and wished us blessings for our travel. The shaman was there as well with his wife which was especially nice. Leaving Laos behind was difficult to do. The beautiful countryside, the warm and loving people, and the rich culture and traditions were so vibrant and so alive. Our time there was a gift and a blessing, and a journey that all of us were lucky to walk, and lucky to walk together. As we said goodbye to the children (leaving our soccer ball behind for them), goodbye to the amazing women that prepared our meals and the men that taught us how to make cement and build foundation, and of course the dogs, we took a few last mental pictures of the cliffs and rice fields, took a deep breath as we loaded the vans, and began our journey back down the mountain and back to Thailand. What a wonderful and beautiful journey of learning, leadership and adventure.
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