Wolf ,Wolf, what's the time?

That was the game we played today at Kids' Club: "Wolf Wolf what's the time?" My own kids have been playing it since they were about 2... the Kids Club Kids are 6 and older so I thought it would be easy. I had gone through my introduction and explanation of the game with my language helper yesterday... I knew what to say and how to say it. I was ready.

But they didn't get it. The wolf refused to turn around and look away from the kids. The children could only call out "wolf wolf" if they were robotically repeating it after me. And could only take the steps if they were robotically following me. At first the wolf didn't manage to catch anyone (even though he was the oldest and fastest of the lot!). And even though they only had to run back to the start to avoid being caught, they all ran right around the house and then some! Frustration!!!

Photo: Kids Club on a better day!

Sadly, its not the first time this has happened. As I get more experienced at running Kids Club, it happens less often, but that's just because I am lowering the standards and my expectations! I realise it has something to do with my inadequate Thai, but truly, there's definitely a lot more to it than just that!!! I love Kids' Club and am honestly fond of the children, but their lack of ability to THINK really frustrates me...

When we first arrived in Thailand in 2003, I read in the Bangkok Post that the average IQ here is low and dropping. In fact the average of Thai children is between 87 and 88 points. This was according to a survey done in 2002. There was a plan to develop children intellectually and physically, and raise the IQ to at least 100 by 2008.

Its 2008 now and I am wondering how the programmes fared. I am on a mission to find out, but so far have not been able to find anything.

The 2002 survey results were fairly dire: at least 20% of the children under five years of age had visual, muscular and touch-perception problems. Another survey (from 2001) found that children from six to 12 had low levels of patience, discipline, concentration and self-reliance, while those between 13 and 18 had insufficient creativity, analytical ability, conscience, problem-solving skills and emotional control.

The then minister of education said that these problems were the result of parents leaving teachers in charge of their children's development. Teachers are not trained to maximise children's potential at the right age, he said. The five-year plan included teaching pregnant mothers to eat nutritious food during pregnancy, and stimulating their children's development at the right age.

The minister for mental health said that: "Some parents tend to carry their babies in their arms all the time out of concerns that their babies might fall and hurt themselves. That's not right. If it's time for your babies to start crawling or running, let them do so because it encourages their development."

HAH! This is what I've been saying all along. Whenever I get asked how come my kids are so active, independent, energetic, inquisitive and talk so much.... that's what I say, and that's why I started my moms and babies class (which no one attends because they have all taken the kids to nursery so the teachers can make sure their kids develop)!

Before I get too carried away on this particular rant, let me not forget that South Africa's average IQ is 72! So who I am to comment on a nation's whose national average is 87? But all the same, I do hope that the five-year plan will start showing some fruit soon! And that maybe, just maybe, some moms will come to my classes.

And I think that its time to think!

Sports Day! Thai Style.

Sports Day. The kids in the school were divided into three teams: Red, Yellow and Blue. Jonty and Emily were in the Blue team. The day started off with speeches, a demonstration of the sports the kids do, Thai girls dressed up like drum majorettes, a parade (in which Jonty got to beat the drum for the Blue team)... and then, eventually, it was time for the games to begin.

Jonty was in the first race of the day. It was also his first race ever, so, after "triam tua", "prom", and "pay" as the whistle blew ("on your marks", "get set", "go" for those who don't speak Thai) Jonty waited until the other boys were halfway down the track, before realising that he should also run. To add insult to injury, members of the jolly Red team ran out into his lane causing him to (a) get a fright and (b) make a wide - really wide - detour. The other boys were sipping juice by the time Jonty finished his 100m dash/obstacle course.

If that had been me I would have been devastated. Coming last, oh no no! But Jonty was delighted. He had so much fun, and said he hoped they'd have another sports day soon, there's really no reason to wait till next year. He was also proud of himself for running his fastest. Well, he did run pretty fast, just a pity he started a bit too late, and took too long a detour!!! But I was proud of him for being able to enjoy it despite the fact that he came 3 out of 3. He won a bronze medal (unfortunately it was pink) and is very happy with it - especially, after I spray-painted the outside gold...

I felt I was justified in spray-painting it gold because NO almost-5 year old boy should be seen wandering around wearing a pink medal!!! and secondly, his Blue team won Sports Day, so the gold represents his team's victory. So how did the blue team win? Did I mention that Madame Emily was also in the Blue team?

She was in a grumpy mood, so she stomped off to her race looking too cute for words in her athletics outfit. Her race was the much-awaited watermelon relay. She was first off the mark, and did a brilliant job picking up her watermelon, racing around the track and back so the second person could get it. He was half her size, but bravely seized the watermelon and slowly ambled around the track, ending up stone last. The third one to go was a strong little girl who had no problem, but she fell once, and so the Blue team was still last. I thought it was all over, but the race was not finished yet, there were 2 rounds! Off Emily went again - she caught up, and then took the lead which was not all the hard seeing as the Red team member had burst into tears and was being coaxed by the teachers and mother to finish the race, and the Yellow team member had fallen down and had to find her watermelon which delayed her considerably. The Blues held their lead and so, Emily took the gold!!!!! Go Em! She cheered up no end.

After all the races, it was time for the awards and official photos. Every single child had competed in something, and so every single child won a medal. Each one of them was just so delighted, and they went racing around finding others who had the same colour as theirs ... the pinks (bronzes) and the silvers and the golds all seem to have equal value! They all took part, they all had fun. It was a huge success and I learned that you don't have to win to have fun. Although I still think it does help.

Bad Bad Barbie?

Emily loves Barbie. She has 4 of them. Only one is a real “regte egte” Barbie, the other three are 20 baht poor imitations - a fact which thankfully makes no difference to a 3-year old. I never thought a daughter of mine would play with a Barbie. I never had a Barbie in my life. In fact, I thought Barbies were bad news. Bad bad bad. I had this really negative impression about Barbies, based on … I'm not sure what.

Barbara Millicent Roberts (alias “Barbie”) was born on 9 March 1959. She is ten years older than me, but looks about 20 years younger! Barbie is an interesting person. She has a range of pets, from the usual cats, dogs and horses to more exotic pandas and zebras. She has many vehicles, and while she may have once been a flight attendant, she now flies the aeroplane. In fact, she has even flown a space shuttle. She is international too – and, has a large family. She has adapted over the years, always keeping pace with the times.

There has been a lot of controversy about Barbie – some of it valid, some of it positively ridiculous. The bits that were valid, it would appear the makers took to heart, and responded quickly and appropriately. Even her waist has been “thickened”!

Barbie-mania in our home stepped up a notch a few weeks ago when Emily was given the “Barbie and the Diamond Castle” DVD by Kawanor and Ben, our Japanse/Korean neighbours. As always, I watched it with Em the first time. I was surprised to find that I was quite impressed. For starters, the animation somehow captures the fact that these are dolls – their movements and facial expressions are much like actual Barbie dolls (I could almost visualize a little girl holding them and playing). Point is, you never forget that these are just dolls, not real people.

But, perhaps more importantly, the Barbies in this particular story are really good: they are loving, kind, gentle, generous, resourceful, bright, funny, caring, intelligent, respectful of differences, they work well as a team, they are respectful of the elderly, hardworking, brave, they keep their promises, they are faithful, they are not greedy, they sing like angels, they’re gracious, and … they’re beautiful. There is no getting away from the fact that Barbie is beautiful, tall and thin. But you know what? There are worse things for a role-model to be! Besides, Emily’s favourite part of the whole movie is when the chubby little puppy dances!

So, if Emily wants to watch Barbie DVDs and play Barbie computer games and play with her Barbies … that’s OK with me. For now.

My Thai Foot Massage

(3 years ago, having a foot massage while Emily had lunch!)

It was my day off today. A day off is not truly a day off without at least one hour away from all of my kids. Jonty and Emily were at school, so as soon as Nina went down for her midday nap, and Phii Noi got back from lunch, I took myself off to the spa down the road for a foot massage. I could go to the ladies at Big C, but I’m a bit of a massage snob, and rather go to the spa. You pay 20 baht extra, but you get soothing music and aircon. Bonus!

The Thai Foot Massage actually originated in China. It's an art that been practiced for over 5000 years. And although it’s called a foot massage, it involves the legs, up to the thighs, and often even shoulders and hands too.

The benefits ... wow… where do we start? Other than one hour of peace and quiet, it’s also supposed to improve circulation, remove toxins, stimulate lymphatic drainage, boost the immune system, relieve stress, improve sleep, and – my all time favourite (I do SO live in hope) - give clarity of mind.

So, I arrived, washed out, worn out, ready for my one hour. They know me by now. The lady who runs the spa... wait… lady? I am not sure. She is dressed like a lady, but talks like a man. She is taller than me, unusual for a Thai lady, but does wear plenty of make-up. Anyway, I get welcomed. I get taken through to a little foot fountain and my feet are thoroughly washed with a lovely, tingly, minty kind of soap, with coarse salt. Aaah, that alone is worth it. Except that my feet are very ticklish so I spend half the time pulling my feet away and giggling.

While I am getting my feet washed, I spot my masseuse getting ready for me. She… he? … She is small, but walks like a man. Her hair is cropped short. No make-up. I don’t know. I don’t mind if she is a man, because the ladies are often a bit too gentle. I like a firm massage (it’s those ticklish feet).

Then, I am given a pair of fluffy cotton slippers to wear. I pad through to the massage room. It’s dimly lit (so I didn’t get to read my Newsweek which I had taken with me), and has the soothing music and aircon I mentioned. There is a water feature, lots of plants, very nicely done.

I prepare to pass out. But no. The masseuse is a talkative one. Her voice is soft and gentle. A lady’s voice. She’s also new. She bows down and says a prayer or some sort and starts. Starts the massage but also starts the questions. She wants know if I come often – am I a regular? What am I doing in Lampang? Am I married? Do I have kids? Do I like living in Lampang?

I find out that she is from Central Thailand. She’s from a broken home. Her parents divorced when she was two and she was raised by her older sister. She did not go to school, they had no money, but learned the art of massage at a vocational training centre. She worked in Bangkok for a while, but has just moved to Lampang to be with her “fan”. “Fan” is a lovely Thai word used to indicate boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife. Nick (turns out her name is Nick, just like my fan’s) proudly tells me that her fan is the lady who runs the shop.

Nick is getting down to my reflex points which she is digging into viciously with her boney fingers (some use a stick, Nick doesn’t need to). The belief is that each part of the foot is linked to another part of the body – to vital organs and muscles. She tells me that if it’s sore, she needs to deal with that problem spot (i.e. press harder and longer). I grit my teeth and tell her it’s not sore at all. She moves on. No, not sore. Not at all. Gasp gasp. She ends with a scalp massage. Bliss.

Thai foot massage lavishes your feet and legs with the consideration and attentiveness they deserve - they are the pillars of our bodies, after all. But I wonder if Nick is lavished with the consideration and attention she deserves as one of God’s unique creations. I don’t think she is – she’s a lost, neglected, confused, unloved one.

I left my massage walking on sweet-smelling, pampered feet, promising to be back next week. Then the words rang through my head - “How lovely on the mountains are the feet of her who brings good news….” Next week I’d better take the good news!

HIGH EQ

My kids go to a Thai school. It was a big decision, well thought through (we thought so anyway), but recently someone told us that it was the wrong decision - my children will not develop good EQ at a Thai school ...

Firstly I wonder how arrogant is that!? Surely there are plenty, and when I say "plenty" I mean literally "millions", of Thai people with high EQ? But, secondly, being me, I started doubting myself and our decision. So thirdly, I started reading up everything I could find on developing my children's EQ.

Emotional Intelligence. It's the ability of a human being to manage his/her emotions in a healthy way. Apparently it will determine the quality of my children's lives in a far more fundamental way than their IQ will. So, OK, yes, its important. I need to start building my darlings' EQ.

Actually having read up, lots of it is common sense, it's not rocket-science. It's just the actual implementation that's hard.

So here are my reminders, the things that hit home ...

1. Teach the children that although they cannot choose their feelings, they CAN choose what they do with them. If Jonty is angry, then he's angry. If he is disappointed, then he is disappointed. I need to acknowledge his feelings, but teach him that even though he is unhappy or angry or disappointed, he can still choose how he behaves. I tried it at D.K Books yesterday. It worked!
   
2. Empathise. Empathy seems to be the golden rule. It teaches that emotions are not dangerous or shameful, but manageable.
   
3. Do not distract them from their feelings. Acknowledge, empathise, show/talk about what happened, and give them time to process i.e. don't tell Jonty that "big boys don't cry." Easier said than done. This one is going to be a challenge, especially as the technique I use with Nina is definitely still distraction....
   
4. Don't disapprove of fear or anger - it will just cause them to repress those feelings. And repressed feelings are ALWAYS looking for a way out. Oh dear, I heartily, heartily disapprove of anger, but, fine, I need to allow them to express it. Good thing point 5 is:
   
5. Teach them how to handle anger constructively. And when they're angry look UNDER the anger for the fear or hurt. Anger, is - apparently - almost always a front for fear.
   
6. This is a really scary bit: Remember that they will learn what I model. Don't let my own feelings get out of hand. Every time I yell or shout, the fault is MINE. I did not intervene in an effective way before yelling was necessary.
   
7. Give them time to bring up what is bothering them. One expert suggested a few quiet minutes (yeah right, not in our house!) at bedtime in the dark.... But, its a good point, on Sunday I took Emily shopping. She told me that she was being bullied by one kid at school. (She could even tell me where he sat in relation to her desk, so I know it was not one of her tall stories.) It only came out because we were alone and chatting about things important to us.
   

There were other points, but these 7 are enough for me to concentrate on for now. This is a gentle reminder for myself. And for Nick, the love of my life, who dutifully reads all my blogs and helps me stay sane.

Why do I read Newsweek?

Newsweek comes weekly (obviously) to P O Box 8, Lampang, Thailand. I get so excited when it comes and pretty irritated when its late. I hate "double editions" because all that means is that I have to wait TWO weeks for the next edition. I read it from cover to cover - the letters, the politics, world affairs, global investments, society and the arts, tourism, new inventions, hot spots, technology, even the adverts.

And why? Its not like I understand it. I don't - the jargon, the references to things I know I probably should know about, the acronyms, and especially all the financial-business-stock-markets-real-estate stuff. Its beeeeee-yond me. Even the arts column is usually about some obscure artist or an author I've never heard of, or a new exhibition that I'd never attend (even if I weren't in Thailand). But I read it all - sports, architecture, opinions, right down to the last word... which is actually in a column called "The Last Word".

Recently, in an attempt to be honest with myself about the things I do, I asked myself WHY I read it. Am I so desperate for news of the outside world, in English? Am I simply trying to keep my mind active by reading something that is such a challenge for me? Am I worried that an intelligent person might not be able to have a conversation with me about current affairs if I don't read it? Do I actually deep, deep down LIKE feeling confused and bewildered? Am I hoping that by reading it I'll be a better person? Am I just addicted, but if so, WHY? Are the tiny nuggets I do understand enough to make it all worthwhile? Am I hoping, week after week, that maybe I'll start understanding it? Am I hoping that one day I'll pick up the latest edition and suddenly, miraculously, it'll all make sense?

I can't give up because, "the trouble with giving up ... is that the world goes on without you" (quoted from Newsweek, albeit in the context of the data available on current account deficits and yield spreads...whatever THAT is!). Mmmm, I can't have the world going on without me. So, is this why I read it: to feel connected with the world, even if its a world I don't understand? Well, until I get more clarity, I'll just have to keep on reading. Maybe the answer will come in next week's edition!

Adventure of Living

The very worst part of my life in Thailand is, without a doubt, language checks. I have 2 tomorrow. I'm sitting on a train - the Chiang Mai-Bangkok sprinter - on my way to Lopburi.

A few hours ago we were hurtling passed tropical jungle, in the mountains. Now we're dashing through rice paddies. I look out my window. I see houses on stilts, flooded plains, palm trees. Everything is so green. Its 5.30pm. There are children playing along the train tracks, ladies washing in basins, grannies cooking in huge woks. Every now and then we pass a shrine, or a temple, or a spirit house. A few kilometres back there was a massive temple fair. There were jumping castles, games, stalls, and merry-go-rounds galore.

To my left are some odd-shaped hills, flocks of birds fly past in a "V" formation. Rice paddies everywhere. There is a heron wading in the flooded paddies. There is water - so much of it, its a good thing the houses are on stilts, its a good thing the owners have little wooden boats tied up to the posts.

The train driver is hooting again - we're passing another temple.

Another station. About one more hour to Lopburi. Once I get there I'll probably buy some khao phad from a street vendor for supper, I'll take a motorbike taxi to Shiloh, where I'm spending the night. In the morning I'm doing those 2 languages checks, then I'm off for one night in Bangkok and a day of shopping. I'll take the overnight sleeper train back to Lampang the next day.

The sun is setting now. The sky is purple, blue, pink and the palm trees form a postcard-like silhoutte. In my previous life I'd be ... what? coming home from work, yet another day in the rat race.

Here my life is an adventure, and even language study has a silver lining!

Jonty, taekwondo boy!

I am so proud of my boy. So proud!

Firstly he worked so hard to get his yellow belt at taekwondo. I think he is the youngest kid in his club to get it. But it is not just that he got it, its how he worked for it. He was so determined. In the two weeks leading up to the exam there were days that he really didn't want to go to practise. He'd ask me if he HAD to go. I'd say NO! but then I'd remind him that his teacher had said suggested that he practise everyday until the exam... and so he'd go! He pushed himself. He practised at home. He focussed. He did it.

For me, the incredible thing was that this was the first thing that he's ever achieved entirely on his own. He decided he wanted to do taekwondo. He decided how many times a week he would go. He decided he wanted a yellow belt. He decided to work towards it. Obviously we encouraged him, but this was HIS effort and HIS victory.

Then, today we got his school report. Yes, in Thailand even 4 year olds get reports. His overall mark: 81%. Eighty one percent. His teacher told me that he'd done so well, and that all his friends had clapped and cheered for him. He had only been in the school for a few weeks when the tests were done. The school, the system, the method of teaching, the language, EVERYTHING, was completely different to what he had been used to. He'd had to adapt and adjust ... and as I think I've mentioned before, Jonty does not like change.

He's not top of the class, but he's above average and that is cause for CELEBRATION.

Most notable comment: that he is happy and cheerful
Most surprising mark: 18 out of 20 for English i.e. surprising that they were brave enough to assess him seeing as his English is better than the teacher's!
Most pleasing comment: that he plays well with his friends.
Most encouraging mark: 16 out of 20 for Thai. Wow.
Most unsurprising remarks: about how strong and physical he is.

Jonty is so pleased with himself and more motivated than ever before. He is seeing the fruit of hard work and likes it. When I picked him up after his taekwondo lesson yesterday I saw that he was helping the new kids - showing them where to stand, and how to tie their belts. On the way home I asked him if he was happy with his yellow belt. He said yes, but that he wants to "go for" his green belt now.

Nina and Domino

I am a Baxter i.e. prone to exaggeration. My sister and I once agreed that it may be irritating, but it makes life more interesting. Well, this is a story I don't need to exaggerate, in fact, if anything I will play it down!

On Friday night Domino, the cat, scratched Nina, and she (Nina) proceeded to have a seizure. It was a bad one. I thought my baby was either going to die or end up a vegetable for the rest of her life.

Nina has a condition/disorder/disease/I-don't-even-know -what-to-call-it labelled "Reflex Anoxic Seizure." It is not epilepsy. It is not a breath-holding episode (which she has had before). It is not naughtiness. It has nothing to do with temper tantrums.

With a RAS oxygenated blood is temporarily cut off to her brain. So, actually, her heart stops beating. Her eyes roll back, and she goes white, her body goes totally rigid, her legs and arms jerk. Her jaw clenches - she seems to be grinding her teeth and she makes these unnatural grunting noises.

Its incredibly frightening for the parents, not to mention the siblings or anyone else, witnessing it. Now, normally all of this lasts just a few seconds - if that - but feels like about half an hour. The only thing to do is put her in the recovery position and wait it out. After the seizure, she slumps, and passes out.

On Friday night, the seizure - which Nick was timing - lasted one minute, two, three, four, five .... at about ten minutes, and a degree of panic in the Bekker home, we took her to hospital: she was still having the seizure.

We are not sure exactly when she came out of it, but on the way to emergency, I saw her blink - up till that point her eyes were wide open, pupils fully dilated. It was the first very faint glimmer of hope, but she was still groaning, grinding her teeth, and rigid. Once in the the emergency room, she actually started screaming. We found out later than once she could scream she was no longer having the seizure. All in all, we think the seizure lasted 15 - 20 minutes. Frightening stuff.

Once the seizure was over, my stress levels did not diminish all that much - mainly because I had no clue what was going on. She was unconscious for about an hour and although she was unconscious her body was still rigid, she was still screaming, and she had no normal reflexes.

It took her about an hour to eventually regain consciousness. She was groggy, unresponsive, and pretty much fell fast asleep for 10 hours. When she woke up, she was much better, but clumsy and very sleepy, just not quite herself. Even today, two days later, she is not 100%, but she will be soon.
(here she is about an hour before it happened, and about 10 minutes after regaining consciousness)

First thing she did when she got home from hospital? Hugged Domino!!!!

Things that would have helped me cope better:
1. to know that if a seizure lasts more than 5 minutes to go to hospital;
2. to know that we were doing the best (and only) thing by putting her in the recovery position, not trying to hold or cuddle her, give her water, cool her body (she had a fever too), etc;
3. to know that being unconscious for an hour after the seizure is "normal";
4. to know that once she could scream she was no longer having a seizure;
5. to know that other people's children have this condition! And that they don't die from it!

And the one thing that DID help me was to pray wthout ceasing! Even if my prayers were unintelligible.

So, maybe this entry will help someone else.

Yes, having read what I have just written I can confidently say that I played it down, as expected.