rice farming, and driving

Another weekend came and went. The weekends are always an interesting part of the experience. Because I have no car or motorcycle, I have to depend of the few friends I have in the village to drive me places or take me on outings. This also means that I am on their time at their leisure.

On Saturday evening I went to dinner with one of my friends from the village. They cut me to a really cute riverside restaurant which overlooked the float boat making for the upcoming festival. The scary part was the father had two beers for dinner, something I thought very little of. This is until he had to drive us home. I have never felt more terrified in my life. I don’t know if there is just not the concept of no drinking and driving, but for some reason neither of the other two people I was with (both of whom can drive) offered to drive. There were times when he would randomly jerk the wheel to avoid nothing and we would all fly to the left or the right. There was a time we drifted into the left margin, and the huge car accident I had before coming to Thailand flashed in my mind. Luckily the wife jerked the wheel and we avoided spinning out of control. I didn’t really know what to do or say. The one person who spoke English had her head down with embarrassment and stayed silent the entire ride home. I don’t know how to drive stick, but I was very close to offering to drive. We made it home slowly with the driver only falling asleep at the wheel once at a stoplight. When we finally pulled up to my gate, my friend with little English said “ sorry I think he drink.” I had nothing to say for the driver was a director of a school, a very respected position in Thailand, the wife was a teacher at my school and they also spoke no English. It was one of those surreal experiences where I just felt totally culture shoked.

The following morning I continued the weekend’s pattern by spending the day cutting rice, literally. One of the brother’s of a teacher in my school wanted to show me what many of my student’s family did for a living. He took me to a farm about 5 Kilos from my school. I was given a tradition cone hat and a rounded knife – it almost looked more like a hook. Even though it was about 90 degrees out, the farmer insisted I put a jacket on to avoid the sun.

So I ended up in a rice field drenched in sweat cutting rice by the handfuls and then laying them in stacks to dry for four days. The crazy part is the man who brought me just walked away and said OK I will be right back. So there I was in the middle of the rice field by myself for roughly thirty minutes. I didn’t know whether to continue or if this was some cruel joke he was playing on the silly foreigner. He finally returned with a camera in hand to take picture to send to my family. These pictures are soon to come when he sends them to me.