I was recently informed that volunteers in other countries refer to Peace Corps Thailand as ‘posh corps.’ Part of me is screaming ‘are you kidding!?! But, as you’re about to see, there’s some truth in that title.
In May I moved out of my host family’s house and into a large rental house that came complete with lots of things. Many of them are good for nothing but collecting gecko poop, but I’m enjoying my tile floors, refrigerator, cell phone reception, microwave, and U.S.-style tables with chairs.
THE ROAD HOME (from school)
Turning the corner from the ‘main road’ onto the smaller road that leads to my village…
The road that goes to my village is 2.5 km long. It doesn’t have an official name, but some teachers at my school named it the ‘pothole road’ because there are, although not in this picture, a gazillion potholes in this road.
There are rice fields on either side of the road.
This is my street. My house is behind the plants on the right. Somehow only one chicken made it into the picture.
THE HOUSE…
Snazzy, huh? (I wasn’t into living in such a snazzy place at first (perpetuating the ‘rich American’ assumption), but then I had a very difficult time getting a steady supply of drinking water delivered to my house and tried to do dishes without a sink during a thunder storm and decided I was sufficiently ‘roughing it.’ (My counterpart chose this house for me. A married couple of PCVs lived here for a few months previously, but went home because of digestive problems).
This is the back of the house, and the house with the red roof belongs to the landlords. My kitchen is under the awning. That heap of green stuff was burned later this day (thank you, landlords, for ensuring a smoke-filled life) and there’s been a 24/7 construction project going on back here. I’ve had an attentive audience (now that the parade’s over I’m on a stage) of construction workers for over a month now.
INSIDE…
This is the hallway, much of which is taken up by cabinets full of things that belong to the landlords, including satin boxers. The the windows on the left open into a storage area that belongs to the whole world. This is CLEAN, by the way. It doesn’t look it, but take my word for it…
I mentioned a construction project happening outside my kitchen. Well this is a house being delivered to my house on a truck. That’s Mr. Landlord watching from my front porch. (I’m taking the picture from my living room).
This is the view from my doorway when there’s not a house being shoved through the gate. (The rainy season has arrived).
The cleanest quarter of my living room. The landlords graciously provided me with those pink shiny curtains, which I am slowly replacing. That’s my bedroom through the doorway.
This is the kitchen. The floor is my sink. That big jar holds water (but there’s no way to drain it and it’s too heavy to dump!)
My stove. This was the day I rode my bike to town and bought what I needed to cook my very own sticky rice. Many people in my life are incredulous when I tell them I make my own sticky rice. I’ve had more than one person shout in my face ‘NO, NO, WHO COOKS RICE FOR YOU!?’ repeatedly until some other Thai person who has witnessed my rice steaming abilities confirms that I can indeed put rice in a basket and stick it over a pot of boiling water.
My lovely bathroom. I recently stuck a hose on the end of that tap and abandoned the true bucket shower (I was tired of things dying in the basin and not being able to drain the thing). The hose method hasn’t made the water any less slimy. I keep meaning to google ‘slimy water thailand’ to see if I can figure out what makes the water taste like it’s from the ocean (I don’t drink it on purpose).
BATHROOM FRIENDS
This is George. I haven’t gotten to the point where I can kill scorpions yet (big crunch, big splatter, I’d imagine) so I just let them be and they don’t bother me (although I hear that scorpion bites are badddd.)
There are too many of these guys to name them. They also enjoy my bathroom. (I have cleaned all the dirt and cobwebs away since this picture was taken).
Hey Sweetie!
When I imagine squatting over a hole with tender parts exposed to the whims of a scorpion, “posh” is not the word that comes to mind.
Love, Dad
I love you and I love this record of your life. The house is fabulous and you will not have anything so (relatively) posh for years to come I suspect. Can I fit on the couch?
Spoiled imperialist American. And squash the scorpion!
Love,
Uncle Dave
Darlin’, kill them scorpions. If they are on the large size, you need a bit of wood that is flat. They do crunch. I haven’t been stung– so close too many times to count, but I hear it’s miserable. Why on earth is Gecko poop so stinky? And have you introduced contra dancing there?
i introduced contra dancing within the group of volunteers back at training, but i haven’t in my village!
Kill the scorpions – PLEASE!!
I’m still trying to figure out how the outdoor kitchen works? I didn’t know that sticky rice was steamed (as opposed to boiled etc), I’ll give it a try when I get a basket of sorts. How is the classroom going? Is it difficult to come-up with lesson plans etc? Love Uncle Bill.
The most difficult part of the ‘classroom’ is that class is constantly canceled because of disorganization (teachers are ‘busy,’ the kids have to practice for teacher worship day, the kids have to go to the temple, etc.). So it’s difficult to establish any kind of routine or expectations… or any of those things that would make a productive learning environment.
Bean -girl, I say that you should kill the scorpion or have someone do it for you. You could exchange the service of killing the bug for a bowl of sticky rice! Your home is certainly colorful and it looks like you are making it “home.” You are amazing. Love,
Auntie Kim
Hi Jeannine, I love these photos of your house. Could I get one just like it without the scorpion?
Kathleen Williams, group 124
Rumor has it that the landlords do have another house somewhere…
I like that you named it George. I name everything George. Also you’re a total badass.
OK, Jeannine, I don’t see the posh part anywhere. Here are my questions: What’s in those humongous jars on the front porch? Where did the house-on-a-truck end up, and does it belong to your house? What is the mechanical-looking thing on the wall in the living room? Is there running water in your kitchen? What is that white thing in the middle of the kitchen picture that looks like a broken applicance? Where do you dump the dishwater? What keeps hooligans from climbing into your kitchen? Other than wondering if the bathtub-like thing drains, I am ignoring your bathroom altogether, except to say, please get a large solid whacker and smack that scorpion good, arranging yourself so as to allow a means of escape should you miss and only anger it.
Love, Jan S.
those humungous jars collect rain water, which many people still use as drinking water. my landlord keeps them closed and i’ve only seen him collect water a few times. the spout where the water is supposed to come out the bottom is plugged up.the truck ended up in what used to be my nice empty back yard (well, sort of). the white thing is non – automatic washing machine (ingenious invention! let’s make a machine that has to be babysat while it washed clothes). dish water get dumped near the door and runs out into the landlord’s new parking lot (in front of the house. i should get some pics of this setup). the chickens from next door come over and eat any food bits that get dumped out with the dish water. anyone can climb in, but there is a door that locks between the kitchen and the rest of the house. the bathtub thing does drain! that was a fantastic discovery!!