Despite the long commute in hellish smoggy Bangkok traffic, I was happy to get back out to Mahidol’s leafy suburban campus this week. After a couple of weeks away teaching in Chiang Mai and traveling in Viet Nam, it’s nice to resume my routine and get back to work in my so-overly-air-conditioned-it-feels-like-a-meat-locker office. My very friendly colleagues welcomed me back and were inquisitive about my trips outside the city.
The office was, as usual well-stocked with fresh fruit and cloyingly sweet Thai snacks that they insist I taste. It also seems that a new trend has developed in the office: my officemates have taken to blasting Thai pop music in the afternoons and occasionally singing along. While charming and kind of funny at first, it’s now just an annoying distraction… But I'm not allowed to complain about the office because thanks to their networks and contacts, I've managed to get involved in some really interesting projects during my time here. In fact, I’m already planning another trip back up to Chiang Mai to meet with more Burmese pro-democracy leaders and organizations.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Happy birthday to me!
Thinking back over where I’ve spent my past birthdays, I don’t think I ever could have predicted where I am today: on a junk in Ha Long Bay in Viet Nam.
As a birthday gift, my mother came out to Asia to take me on a special trip to Viet Nam. I’ve been looking forward this for weeks, and especially since I was so drained from teaching the workshop, I really needed this mini-vacation. As a funny coincidence, I realized that former Fellow JG was here with her mother at exactly the same time last year… But unlike Julia, I have no personal connection or family history tied to this country and my mother and I have been discovering it for the first time together.
We started the trip in Ho Chi Minh City, still commonly referred to as Saigon. The city was reminiscent of Bangkok in its heat and chaotic motorcycle traffic, but Saigon is far less developed and thus much more pleasant. The architecture maintains the elegant French-colonial flavor and the large boulevards and city squares are lined with stately trees. After a city tour, we drove out to the Mekong Delta and spent a lazy afternoon observing the traffic on this massive commercial river and floating along some of its small tributaries.
Moving up North, we visited the capital Hanoi, the grey capital city perched on the banks of the Red River. Hanoi felt cleaner and more cosmopolitan than Saigon, and it seamlessly blends its various Vietnamese, European, and Chinese influences—though I suspect that I may just have liked it better because its cooler climate is a refreshing change from the Southern heat and humidity.
And today I sit on the deck of a junk, floating between the striking karsts of Ha Long Bay. At this time of year, there aren’t many tourists. The bay is misty and calm, not quite serene, bordering on haunting… Certainly a unique and unusual place to celebrate my 24th birthday…
As a birthday gift, my mother came out to Asia to take me on a special trip to Viet Nam. I’ve been looking forward this for weeks, and especially since I was so drained from teaching the workshop, I really needed this mini-vacation. As a funny coincidence, I realized that former Fellow JG was here with her mother at exactly the same time last year… But unlike Julia, I have no personal connection or family history tied to this country and my mother and I have been discovering it for the first time together.
We started the trip in Ho Chi Minh City, still commonly referred to as Saigon. The city was reminiscent of Bangkok in its heat and chaotic motorcycle traffic, but Saigon is far less developed and thus much more pleasant. The architecture maintains the elegant French-colonial flavor and the large boulevards and city squares are lined with stately trees. After a city tour, we drove out to the Mekong Delta and spent a lazy afternoon observing the traffic on this massive commercial river and floating along some of its small tributaries.
Moving up North, we visited the capital Hanoi, the grey capital city perched on the banks of the Red River. Hanoi felt cleaner and more cosmopolitan than Saigon, and it seamlessly blends its various Vietnamese, European, and Chinese influences—though I suspect that I may just have liked it better because its cooler climate is a refreshing change from the Southern heat and humidity.
And today I sit on the deck of a junk, floating between the striking karsts of Ha Long Bay. At this time of year, there aren’t many tourists. The bay is misty and calm, not quite serene, bordering on haunting… Certainly a unique and unusual place to celebrate my 24th birthday…
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wrapping up
As I wrapped up the 3-day workshop, I couldn’t help but get a little emotional. I was moved by the students’ kindness, warmth, humor, and humility. They are doing such remarkable work but they demonstrated a lot of respect for me, calling me “Teacher,” giving me a special seat at the lunch table, and insisting on making my coffee and washing my dishes for me despite my protests. In addition, my apprehension of facing a shy and non-participatory stereotypical group of Asian students was not realized. They was incredibly eager to learn, always had lots of questions, and actually asked for homework assignments! These Burmese students are every teacher’s dream! Unfortunately now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to enjoy teaching anywhere else…
This week, I had one of the most fulfilling (and exhausting!) professional experiences of my life. These young Burmese activists (actually, I shouldn't call them young since we're about the same age) are so eager to learn and are so passionate about their cause. Many are in Thailand illegally, risking their personal security and sacrificing their freedom and contact with their families, to develop their skills and knowledge so they can go back into Burma and work towards bringing about a peaceful transition to democracy. It was hard not to leave the school feeling inspired. It was an absolute privilege for me to meet and work with these young activists and I hope to stay involved with this work and their cause even once the Fellowship year is over.
This week, I had one of the most fulfilling (and exhausting!) professional experiences of my life. These young Burmese activists (actually, I shouldn't call them young since we're about the same age) are so eager to learn and are so passionate about their cause. Many are in Thailand illegally, risking their personal security and sacrificing their freedom and contact with their families, to develop their skills and knowledge so they can go back into Burma and work towards bringing about a peaceful transition to democracy. It was hard not to leave the school feeling inspired. It was an absolute privilege for me to meet and work with these young activists and I hope to stay involved with this work and their cause even once the Fellowship year is over.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Workshop day 1
This morning I was picked up from my little hotel and brought to the school, which is in a secret location. This is only one of several security measures that the organization puts in place to protect the students from both Thai authorities (many are in Thailand illegally) and from Burmese government intelligence which is eager to undermine all the pro-democracy groups. For this reason, I can’t write in detail about the school or the organization or publish photos where students are identifiable.
I was at first concerned about how I would be perceived as an outsider penetrating this secure location, but the students greeted me very warmly when I arrived at the school and they served me a delicious breakfast of Burmese noodles. When I consulted with former Fellow Julia Geggenheimer about this workshop, she said that her biggest challenge in facilitating a multi-day workshop by herself in Cambodia last year was maintaining energy and stamina, so I also guzzled about 3 cups of coffee to prepare for the long day ahead. Despite these precautions, I definitely felt my energy waning by the end of the day of teaching. We went over a lot, but we covered less material than I had planned, but my planning is loose and flexible as I’m trying to make this their workshop and their process. And even though I’m completely exhausted at the end of this long day, I’m also strangely energized and I eagerly looking forward to the days ahead
I was at first concerned about how I would be perceived as an outsider penetrating this secure location, but the students greeted me very warmly when I arrived at the school and they served me a delicious breakfast of Burmese noodles. When I consulted with former Fellow Julia Geggenheimer about this workshop, she said that her biggest challenge in facilitating a multi-day workshop by herself in Cambodia last year was maintaining energy and stamina, so I also guzzled about 3 cups of coffee to prepare for the long day ahead. Despite these precautions, I definitely felt my energy waning by the end of the day of teaching. We went over a lot, but we covered less material than I had planned, but my planning is loose and flexible as I’m trying to make this their workshop and their process. And even though I’m completely exhausted at the end of this long day, I’m also strangely energized and I eagerly looking forward to the days ahead
Supporting the Saffron Revolution
Last week I received an email from a Thailand-based international NGO that works on human rights and environmental issues, asking me if I was available to come teach a workshop on conflict transformation. Naturally I jumped on the chance.
What is particularly exciting about this opportunity is its timeliness and potential impact on actual world events. In Burma last summer and fall, there was an upsurge in anti-government protests, known as the Saffron Revolution because of the leadership of the saffron-robed Buddhist monks. While the participation of the monks in the 2007 protests was important, the most active and historically significant part of the Burmese pro-democracy movement is the youth and student groups. Most of these pro-democracy organizations operate in exile in Thailand due to the repressive nature of the Burmese military regime, known as the State Peace and Development Council. (The junta surprisingly has little to no humor regarding the obvious irony of their nomenclature.) Several other organizations have been created to support these Burmese youth activists through education and training and it is one of these organizations that invited me up to teach the workshop. They run a program for young activists from the marginalized ethnic minorities in Burma. Now in its 8th year, what started as a small experimental project has evolved into a yearlong comprehensive program that trains these young activists in subjects ranging from minority and women’s rights, to English and creative writing, to documentation and research skills, to conflict transformation—which is what I will be teaching starting tomorrow.
Indeed, I now find myself in Chiang Mai preparing for the first day of the workshop tomorrow. The invitation was given in “Asian time,” which, as I’ve been told, means ‘at the very last minute.’ They also sent along their proposed curriculum in “Asian time,” meaning I only had a couple of days to review the curriculum, alter it at my discretion, and prepare for the 3-day workshop. I felt like I was almost too prepared for the workshop I taught in Lebanon so this will be the opposite experience. But luckily for me, I actually prefer to not overly prepare and let this type of program unfold organically according to the group’s needs and interests.
While I am a little concerned about having to fill 3 days all by myself, the curriculum they suggested is quite comprehensive and I can complement it with some of the Insight tools and exercises. More than anything though, I’m just excited to be heading back into the classroom and to have to opportunity to work with this special group.
What is particularly exciting about this opportunity is its timeliness and potential impact on actual world events. In Burma last summer and fall, there was an upsurge in anti-government protests, known as the Saffron Revolution because of the leadership of the saffron-robed Buddhist monks. While the participation of the monks in the 2007 protests was important, the most active and historically significant part of the Burmese pro-democracy movement is the youth and student groups. Most of these pro-democracy organizations operate in exile in Thailand due to the repressive nature of the Burmese military regime, known as the State Peace and Development Council. (The junta surprisingly has little to no humor regarding the obvious irony of their nomenclature.) Several other organizations have been created to support these Burmese youth activists through education and training and it is one of these organizations that invited me up to teach the workshop. They run a program for young activists from the marginalized ethnic minorities in Burma. Now in its 8th year, what started as a small experimental project has evolved into a yearlong comprehensive program that trains these young activists in subjects ranging from minority and women’s rights, to English and creative writing, to documentation and research skills, to conflict transformation—which is what I will be teaching starting tomorrow.
Indeed, I now find myself in Chiang Mai preparing for the first day of the workshop tomorrow. The invitation was given in “Asian time,” which, as I’ve been told, means ‘at the very last minute.’ They also sent along their proposed curriculum in “Asian time,” meaning I only had a couple of days to review the curriculum, alter it at my discretion, and prepare for the 3-day workshop. I felt like I was almost too prepared for the workshop I taught in Lebanon so this will be the opposite experience. But luckily for me, I actually prefer to not overly prepare and let this type of program unfold organically according to the group’s needs and interests.
While I am a little concerned about having to fill 3 days all by myself, the curriculum they suggested is quite comprehensive and I can complement it with some of the Insight tools and exercises. More than anything though, I’m just excited to be heading back into the classroom and to have to opportunity to work with this special group.
Friday, February 08, 2008
Life in transit
This second week of work at OHRSD was exhausting, as I dove into my research project on the Burmese pro-democracy movement and my new schedule began to take form:
Every morning, I wake up early, take a motorbike taxi to the main road, and get on the bus. This first bus ride is under 2km but takes about 30 minutes due to the rush hour traffic. I jump off at a big shopping centre and usually wait about 10 minutes for the next bus, which takes me out to the suburb of Salaya where Mahidol University’s main campus is situated. Because it is a reverse-commute, the traffic is not as bad, but the local bus excruciatingly stops every 200m so it still takes nearly an hour to cover the 18km distance.
And then, at the end of a long workday, I have to do the whole thing in reverse: walk to the main road, jump on the bus, transfer to the second bus, then motorbike up my soi (little road off of a main road) to my apartment building.
At first I was almost excited about commuting since I have never had more than a 15-minute commute in my adult life. But the daily 3 hours on non-air-conditioned local buses have quickly eradicated my romantic notions of commuting. Unfortunately I have never had the ability to read or write comfortably in a moving vehicle so I can’t get any work done while on the bus. But my main complaint about the long commute is that is takes away such a big chunk of my day and delivers me home exhausted and drained. Thus my free time to do things besides work (and sit on a bus) are limited and part of me feels like I’m missing out on the experience of living in Thailand. However, when I managed to get a window seat on the bus ride, it’s not too bad as I can sit and watch Thai daily life unfold, and have some quiet time to reflect—which is helpful for someone like me who is learning to slow down and appreciate living in the moment.
Every morning, I wake up early, take a motorbike taxi to the main road, and get on the bus. This first bus ride is under 2km but takes about 30 minutes due to the rush hour traffic. I jump off at a big shopping centre and usually wait about 10 minutes for the next bus, which takes me out to the suburb of Salaya where Mahidol University’s main campus is situated. Because it is a reverse-commute, the traffic is not as bad, but the local bus excruciatingly stops every 200m so it still takes nearly an hour to cover the 18km distance.
And then, at the end of a long workday, I have to do the whole thing in reverse: walk to the main road, jump on the bus, transfer to the second bus, then motorbike up my soi (little road off of a main road) to my apartment building.
At first I was almost excited about commuting since I have never had more than a 15-minute commute in my adult life. But the daily 3 hours on non-air-conditioned local buses have quickly eradicated my romantic notions of commuting. Unfortunately I have never had the ability to read or write comfortably in a moving vehicle so I can’t get any work done while on the bus. But my main complaint about the long commute is that is takes away such a big chunk of my day and delivers me home exhausted and drained. Thus my free time to do things besides work (and sit on a bus) are limited and part of me feels like I’m missing out on the experience of living in Thailand. However, when I managed to get a window seat on the bus ride, it’s not too bad as I can sit and watch Thai daily life unfold, and have some quiet time to reflect—which is helpful for someone like me who is learning to slow down and appreciate living in the moment.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Zen and the art of SCUBA diving
In order to relax and get out of the hectic city, I decided to go on a SCUBA diving trip this weekend. Thailand is renowned for having some of the best diving sites in the world, which is one of the reasons I decided to get certified last month (another reason being that it seems to be a popular Insight pastime). I am beginning to feel much more at home in the bulky SCUBA gear, though underwater I still feel a bit like the clumsiest fish on the reef.
I realized about halfway through my first dive on Saturday that I was feeling stressed out. As I paused to analyze this feeling, I saw a small school of teeny tiny electric blue fish tentatively peek and then dash madly out from a chunk of bright orange coral—something I would have missed entirely had I not stopped. And suddenly it hit me: rather observing the teeming marine life, I was swimming with a destination in mind, as if I was heading towards something in particular. Once this realization struck me, I slowed down my swimming and took the time to actually look around and enjoy this unique peek into this underwater world. By the end of my sixth and last dive of the weekend, I was feeling utterly zen and relaxed underwater—exactly the point of the SCUBA weekend in the first place.
Upon further reflection (on dry land), I realized that my attitude underwater translated into my everyday life. I often don’t live in the present. I’m constantly thinking ahead, planning, scheduling, counting down etc… and I fear that I’m often missing the point. However, I hope that my underwater realization can gradually translate into a real change in how I live my life. I think that my timing is also impeccable since for the next few months I am in Thailand, a 95% Buddhist country. I hope that I can use my time to develop my understanding of the principles of Buddhism, which can hopefully lead me to live more presently.
I realized about halfway through my first dive on Saturday that I was feeling stressed out. As I paused to analyze this feeling, I saw a small school of teeny tiny electric blue fish tentatively peek and then dash madly out from a chunk of bright orange coral—something I would have missed entirely had I not stopped. And suddenly it hit me: rather observing the teeming marine life, I was swimming with a destination in mind, as if I was heading towards something in particular. Once this realization struck me, I slowed down my swimming and took the time to actually look around and enjoy this unique peek into this underwater world. By the end of my sixth and last dive of the weekend, I was feeling utterly zen and relaxed underwater—exactly the point of the SCUBA weekend in the first place.
Upon further reflection (on dry land), I realized that my attitude underwater translated into my everyday life. I often don’t live in the present. I’m constantly thinking ahead, planning, scheduling, counting down etc… and I fear that I’m often missing the point. However, I hope that my underwater realization can gradually translate into a real change in how I live my life. I think that my timing is also impeccable since for the next few months I am in Thailand, a 95% Buddhist country. I hope that I can use my time to develop my understanding of the principles of Buddhism, which can hopefully lead me to live more presently.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Back in academia
This first week at the Office of Human Rights Studies and Social Development (OHRSD) was quite busy. Between settling into my new office space, learning the names of my new colleagues, and drafting a funding proposal for a new OHRSD program, I managed to find some time to sit in on a couple of graduate seminars on human rights as well as attend a thesis defense about the relationship between the United States and the International Criminal Court. It was interesting for me to hear an Asian perspective on this issue and, having recently wrapped up my placement at the ICC, I was able to share some of my experiences and perspectives on the Court.
The intellectual stimulation of being back in an academic environment has reminded me of how much I look forward to returning to school in the fall. Currently, I am waiting to hear back from several graduate programs to which I have applied. It will likely be another few weeks before I receive any answers, but the anticipation is still gnawing at me.
The intellectual stimulation of being back in an academic environment has reminded me of how much I look forward to returning to school in the fall. Currently, I am waiting to hear back from several graduate programs to which I have applied. It will likely be another few weeks before I receive any answers, but the anticipation is still gnawing at me.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
OHRSD
On Monday, I formally began work at the Mahidol University Office of Human Rights Studies and Social Development, which is hosting me as a visiting Fellow. Last week, I met with the director of the PhD program, Mike Hayes, who will be my supervisor here. He has some projects in mind for me to help out the center, such as working with students on their dissertations and helping draft funding proposals. In fact, I already have meetings set up with two doctoral candidates tomorrow to help them work on their dissertation proposals. They need my assistance as an editor because they are working in English which is their second language.
The centre also has many contacts in my field of interest: Burmese pro-democracy activism. In addition, they have a great little library. Since I'm not an expert on Burmese issues, I’m planning on spending the first couple of weeks here doing background research and reading before venturing out into the field.
The centre also has many contacts in my field of interest: Burmese pro-democracy activism. In addition, they have a great little library. Since I'm not an expert on Burmese issues, I’m planning on spending the first couple of weeks here doing background research and reading before venturing out into the field.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Long long overdue update
The last time most of you heard from me, I was happily living in The Hague, working at the ICC, and trying to avoid crashing my snazzy bike, that's Ms. Gulch to you, into a canal. Since then, I have been a little busy. While I am sure that at least 3 or 4 of you are interested in the details of the past several months, I don't want to alienate my entire audience, so here is as brief an overview as humanly possible:
So, 3 months in The Hague went by in a flash, as most of my life seems to these days. In that time, my main accomplishments were 1) limiting injury to only one cycling accident; 2) resisting learning more than 3 words of the lovely Dutch language, which I affectionately describe as sounding like a cat with a cold coughing up a hair ball; 3) traveling to 7 European countries, which includes a jaunt to Croatia to participate as an assistant trainer in a 2-week USAID-sponsored mediation workshop for High Court judges; 4) hostessing the ONE friend who has ever come to visit me abroad: Mr Justin David Moore; and 5) withstanding the temptation to don blackface and dance around to celebrate Sinterklaas' arrival in Holland for Saint Nicolas day (see "Six to Eight Black Men" post below for explanation).
I wrapped up my life in The Hague with a weekend-long leaving party (always true to form) and a frenzied final 24h of packing--only to be greeted by a suicide bombing in my next destination: Beirut, Lebanon. While it certainly unsettled me, the bombing wasn't really scary. The sense I got from most Lebanese people I met was that they were saddened by the assassination, but ultimately blasé as they have been happening with regularity for nearly 2 years. As several people told me, the bombs are well targeted, killing the intended victim and the people in his immediate entourage, without excessive collateral civilian casualties.
The rest of my time in Lebanon was far less eventful (besides that little incident at the Syrian border…). I spent most of my time overindulging in delicious Lebanese cuisine, abusing my hostess' generous hospitality, putting together a workshop at the American University in Beirut and enjoying the city's nightlife—the vibrancy of which is legendary as it is directly proportional to the political drama and tension.
After 2 weeks in a country that is deadlocked in its inability to select a new president, I moved on to a country that has been happy(-ish) with the same president for nearly 27 years: Egypt. My family flew over from New York and we spent the holidays together exploring Egypt's ancient wonders, fighting Cairo's traffic, relaxing by the Red Sea, and trying to stop my father from trading me and my sisters as brides for a handsome dowry of camels and gold.
3/5 of the DLMK clan retired after an exhausting 2 weeks in Egypt, but my sister Claire and I ventured on to Ethiopia. Our weeklong whirlwind tour included visiting ancient sites that rivaled those in Egypt, getting roped into teaching a two-hour English class at a hospitality school, increasing our tolerance of injera, the famous Ethiopian spongy fermented bread, and spending a day at an orphanage in Addis Ababa—yes, the same one that BrAngelina adopted from.
Claire ditched me and headed back to the US to resume classes while I continued on my trek into the mysterious dark heart of Africa and battled the savage blood-sucking tribe of Northern Tanzania, also known as "UN ICTR lawyers." ;-) While it felt quite surreal to be back in Arusha, where I lived for several months last year, it was great to visit friends and reconnect with former UN colleagues--plus I managed to escape to the beautiful beach in Zanzibar for a few days to relax and have some much-needed reflective alone time.
The week in Tanzania was exactly what I needed to recharge and prepare for my next Fellowship placement in Thailand, from where I write to you now. Yes, you heard me correctly, I am now living in Thailand. I've been here for 48h and just started work at the Centre for Human Rights today...
And if you have read this update correctly, you will know that in the past few months, I have been to 12 different countries (nearly 14 if you count my almost entry to Syria and my stopover in Sudan!) on 3 continents. Whew, I am exhausted, but that could just be the Bangkok weather talking—anyone care for 1000ºF with 200% humidity?
More soon from the original City of Angels!
So, 3 months in The Hague went by in a flash, as most of my life seems to these days. In that time, my main accomplishments were 1) limiting injury to only one cycling accident; 2) resisting learning more than 3 words of the lovely Dutch language, which I affectionately describe as sounding like a cat with a cold coughing up a hair ball; 3) traveling to 7 European countries, which includes a jaunt to Croatia to participate as an assistant trainer in a 2-week USAID-sponsored mediation workshop for High Court judges; 4) hostessing the ONE friend who has ever come to visit me abroad: Mr Justin David Moore; and 5) withstanding the temptation to don blackface and dance around to celebrate Sinterklaas' arrival in Holland for Saint Nicolas day (see "Six to Eight Black Men" post below for explanation).
I wrapped up my life in The Hague with a weekend-long leaving party (always true to form) and a frenzied final 24h of packing--only to be greeted by a suicide bombing in my next destination: Beirut, Lebanon. While it certainly unsettled me, the bombing wasn't really scary. The sense I got from most Lebanese people I met was that they were saddened by the assassination, but ultimately blasé as they have been happening with regularity for nearly 2 years. As several people told me, the bombs are well targeted, killing the intended victim and the people in his immediate entourage, without excessive collateral civilian casualties.
The rest of my time in Lebanon was far less eventful (besides that little incident at the Syrian border…). I spent most of my time overindulging in delicious Lebanese cuisine, abusing my hostess' generous hospitality, putting together a workshop at the American University in Beirut and enjoying the city's nightlife—the vibrancy of which is legendary as it is directly proportional to the political drama and tension.
After 2 weeks in a country that is deadlocked in its inability to select a new president, I moved on to a country that has been happy(-ish) with the same president for nearly 27 years: Egypt. My family flew over from New York and we spent the holidays together exploring Egypt's ancient wonders, fighting Cairo's traffic, relaxing by the Red Sea, and trying to stop my father from trading me and my sisters as brides for a handsome dowry of camels and gold.
3/5 of the DLMK clan retired after an exhausting 2 weeks in Egypt, but my sister Claire and I ventured on to Ethiopia. Our weeklong whirlwind tour included visiting ancient sites that rivaled those in Egypt, getting roped into teaching a two-hour English class at a hospitality school, increasing our tolerance of injera, the famous Ethiopian spongy fermented bread, and spending a day at an orphanage in Addis Ababa—yes, the same one that BrAngelina adopted from.
Claire ditched me and headed back to the US to resume classes while I continued on my trek into the mysterious dark heart of Africa and battled the savage blood-sucking tribe of Northern Tanzania, also known as "UN ICTR lawyers." ;-) While it felt quite surreal to be back in Arusha, where I lived for several months last year, it was great to visit friends and reconnect with former UN colleagues--plus I managed to escape to the beautiful beach in Zanzibar for a few days to relax and have some much-needed reflective alone time.
The week in Tanzania was exactly what I needed to recharge and prepare for my next Fellowship placement in Thailand, from where I write to you now. Yes, you heard me correctly, I am now living in Thailand. I've been here for 48h and just started work at the Centre for Human Rights today...
And if you have read this update correctly, you will know that in the past few months, I have been to 12 different countries (nearly 14 if you count my almost entry to Syria and my stopover in Sudan!) on 3 continents. Whew, I am exhausted, but that could just be the Bangkok weather talking—anyone care for 1000ºF with 200% humidity?
More soon from the original City of Angels!
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