One Treasure At A Time: Bao

Learning Thai is really hard. Poot yahk! During my time at Hot Springs last month, I do believe I added to my vocabulary and improved my tones. But honestly? I am no where NEAR having an actual conversation.

Except with Bao.

Bao is the youngest member of the Hot Springs family, 2 going on 3. She and I....we had the best conversations! "Good morning, how are you? Is your food tasty? What's your name? My name's Bao, what's yours? Today it's hot, isn't it? What's this called?" We could go at it for 5 or 6 whole sentences!!! It's because we're on about the same level. No actually, she's way ahead of me because she can at least understand a whole lot more of what's being said to her.

I've described before the wai....that gentle pressing together of the hands just under your chin (or higher depending on who you're standing before) and the ever so slight bow of the head and shoulders, indicating your respectful greeting. It's charming. Coming from the adults, it's a lovely acknowledgement of being present. Coming from the older children, it's a delightful show of good manners. But coming from Bao, her little two year old hands pressed together, her little still-baby voice saying "Sawatdee,ka!" followed by a shy, sweet smile....it's impossibly adorable.

Without realizing it, Bao has given me a great gift. Over the course of the two weeks I was in Thailand, from our first meeting at the airport, and the brief time together at the dedication service that first Saturday, then all day at the Chiang Mai Zoo, all leading up to the time I would actually live at Hot Springs for five days, Bao progressively let down her shy baby guard and let me be her friend. She walked carefully with me from our first uncertain introductions, all the way to our last energetic hug and frenetic wavings goodbye as I walked through that last gate at the airport.

In between were some wonderful moments. Our first shy game of "round and round the garden". Her delight when I brought out the paints that morning and the beyond-two concentration she put to her picture. The day when we were watching them assemble the computer and she came up to me, stood leaning into my lap, all giggly and conspiratory, to tell me that Fruk was a monkey (and I understood her!!!). And the report coming back to me that the day after I left Hot Springs (to go back to the Flinchums and gather myself before heading back to Canada), she woke up, came to the breakfast table and asked, "Eyi Rut, youteeni?" "Where did Granny Ruth go?"

The neat thing about that is this. Even though I had thought I would introduce myself to the kids at Hot Springs as Granny Ruth, and even though that was indeed the role I intended to fill while there, cultural protocol required I be referred to as Ajahn Rut, Teacher or Rabbi Ruth. That's what everyone called me while I was there. Now perhaps her parents called me Granny Ruth to Bao. But however it went down, it was a great gift for me to know that, bottom line, when it came to why I was really there......Bao got it.


I'm trying to imagine what it would be like to be raised in a family where you have 14 older brothers and sisters, and they're all MUCH older than you. There's at least a 6 or 7 year gap between Bao and Sai and/or Fruk, the next youngest kids. I don't know what it feels like, but I can tell you that it looks like a lot of fun.

Bao moves in and among the other children with ease and confidence, knowing she's got a whole lot of people looking out for her. At any time, any of the children will be talking with her, singing a silly song with her, picking her up and giving her gentle, hilarious attention. The favoured one among all the other older children seems to be Bee (Pornsawan). It was Bee who held Bao the most. It was Bee who Bao looked for to comfort her if Yupa wasn't around. It was Bee who played with Bao and talked to her and taught her things. Next time I'm there, I'm going to have Bee teach me the singing game she played often with Bao...the one that ends up very much like rock, paper, scissors, but has an elaborate set of hand motions and music that all happens in the lead up.


I miss her. I miss them all.

In one of my postings before I actually got there, I think I wrote something about loving like you won't get hurt. Sounded good then. Now...it just hurts.

I'm fully two weeks back. I actually can't really tell if the jet lag was harder this time or last. Certainly, my emotional processing has been very different, recognizing that the whole experience was way more positive, way more filling than that first shock-filled trip last winter. I am most certainly in a far better head space right now than I was when I got back last time. Physically, I think my body had more to adjust to with the added factor of the Malaria medicine. And, to be honest, coming back to the demands of my very demanding life (more so in the past five months than even previously) was a bit of a shock in itself. It was a wonderful gift to be far away from the very painful and difficult things our church and family have had to walk through in the last little while. So there were a number of factors.

Whatever it was that you might want to factor in, it took until just this last Thursday before it felt like I had my head back. Just woke up Thursday morning and I knew...I'm back! Whew! I'm glad! Now I can get on with it.

Sermon prep has been the hardest, trying to keep my concentration when my heart is still rather mushy. Problem solving and trying to engage with the urgent needs presented by patient but rightfully expecting people who have held down the fort while I've been away. It's been a rather challenging two weeks.

But it clicked back into place Thursday morning, and I have energy again for all the delightful and even not so delightful components of the life and ministry God has so generously lavished on me.

Thanks everyone for bearing with me. For my family and the Staff and Elders at Highview especially, I appreciate your patience. It's hard when someone is back but not back, I know.

Except....I miss them.