By Boat, Bus, Train, and Plane: The Account

Already one week of teaching has passed since my two weeks of travel through southern Thailand. I still remember the murmur of breaking waves outside my window, the crystalline hues of the Andaman Sea, the earnest conversations with individuals I previously had shared no history with. Though sometimes it feels more like a prior dream than past reality, it was very much real, and I have chosen portions of my journal entries to recount it.

Ferry Speedboat to Koh Tao

10/17/09

“My first image getting on the train was this: A pot-bellied African American, Jamaican t-shirt stretched taut across his burgeoning organ, bottle of Beer Chang in hand, bellowing out, “What the F&#@?” His name was Teddy, he worked for the U.S. Department of Defense, and he was going to be my seatmate for the next 10 hours.

The train ride however, was certainly not as dire as that. I soon became acquainted with a young group of Aussies, and we spent time till the early hours laughing, talking, and hanging out in the open space between the carriages..

On the speedboat to Koh Tao, an island well known for its fantastic diving:

Entering Koh Tao

10/17/09

..We came into port. Shafts of smooth volcanic stone shot up from the island as though outstretched to the sky. Eco-friendly bungalows needled out through the lush foliage, blending harmoniously with its pristine surroundings. Easily Koh Tao is the most beautiful island I’ve come across [so far].

Presently, I was able to find a spacious bungalow only a mere 10 meters from the beach for an astounding 300 B (10$) a night! It comes with a sweeping porch, hammock, and ideally, a desk. I think I might be in some sort of fantastical writing paradise..

10/19/09

My last day in Koh Tao was marvelous, I rented snorkeling gear and explored the island’s surrounding reefs, spooting fish of such electrically vibrant colors it almost seemed contrived. I also located a sunken cargo ship, about 15 meters in length, which definitely was a high point of the swim..

Traveling to Koh Lipe, a remote island far south in the Andaman Sea

Upon arriving in Hat Yai, I met Yanna, a Czech diving instructor and Anna and David, two good-natured Irish backpackers. We spent the evening walking around the marketplace and having a good time. Yanna adores durian (a notorious fruit that emits an odor akin to rotting meat), so o course she bought some and made us all try it- David almost vomited on the spot!

Sunset from my bungalow porch

10/22/09

Koh Lipe is breath-takingly gorgeous- crystalline wates, vast stretches of white sand beaches, the salt sweet breeze coarsing against one’s skin. I think I might spend the rest of my break here..

I must close with describing my bungalow, which I worked down to 250 B a night. The theme of the place is rasta, with bright, multicolored cannabis leaves adorning each structure. The room is small, and the advertised “personal toilet” is an outside utility connected to the room and of the most austere form, surrounded by a short tin fence for privacy. I suppose beggars, meaning budget traveling teachers in this case, cannot always be choosers!

10/23/09

The day was a full one. Alex (a friend I had made on the way to Koh Lipe) and I explored the island, stumbling across gorgeous coastlines yet to be marred by the aggressive development that has begun to ravage the island’s pristine spots..

Later on I played beach soccer with a lively group, meeting Moriseu, a friendly Italian chef on vacation, and his girlfriend Elainia, who is incredibly nice but hardly speaks a word of English- she just smiles when we’re talking, a very nice smile. Very cool people.

10/25/09

Today, myself and six friends rented a longtail boat for snorkeling. It was nice- the water was transparent and I was able to spot such creatures as the flute fish, clown fish, and even sea horses. One of the more interesting animals I caught sight of was a gnarly-looking scorpion fish; a sting from one of its vicious spines could send you into excruciating pain for several weeks.

Out For Snorkeling

The last stop we made was to an island inhabited by tribes of curious monkeys. They were quite bold, coming right up to me and greedily snatching peanuts from my hand, though fixing me with a wary stare all the while.

10/26/09

I finally caught a fish in my lifetime- and it was enormous. We rented a boat to take us out sea fishing, a worthy experience for any island endeavor. I enjoyed sea fishing, which consisted of lashing a massive pole onto the boat and letting it trail behind.

Shouting. We had been cruising for a good two hours when my pole began bending precariously. I began to reel whatever it was in, and this was no simple task. After several minutes of frenzied action, my forearms screaming in protest, it emerged from the water’s surface a fantastic mackerel approximately 1 meter in length!

Dinner that night was incredible. The manager of my accommodations, who had previously worked at a hotel restaurant in Bangkok for several years, prepared my fish for us, grilling fillets of it with garlic and lime juice over simmering red coals. Nine of us feasted that night, along with tasty fried rice and heaping bowls of steamed vegetables.

10/28/09

I spent my last day on Koh Lipe very unlike how I had envisioned it. Instead of renting a kayak and exploring Koh Adang (a nearby island which is entirely a national park), I chose to finish “Open Water”, a short story I’ve been thinking through for several months. Write I did- from 10 am directly after breakfast to 4:30 pm, not even stopping for lunch. But I’m finished, and the sense of accomplishment I experienced is enormous. Tomorrow I say my goodbyes to my newfound friends and make my way back to Bangkok, this time by plane

And made it back I did after the goodbyes were said, the salt-stained clothes stuffed back into my rucksack. It was a good break; I saw much and interacted with many individuals I hope to see again. Now only to wait one more month and December break is just around the not-all-that-distant corner!

Traveling as the Actor and Audience

“The traveler’s-eye view of men and women is not satisfying. A man might spend his life in trains and restaurants and know nothing of humanity at the end. To know, one must be an actor as well as a spectator.”

This quote by the English writer Aldous Huxley reaches down into the soft marrow of travel. As I move through different environments while journeying, I feel somehow separated from the people and habitat I am amidst. Silently, I absorb both the magnificent and minute details as the member of an enraptured, disconnected audience. Traveling allows me this kindness- to exist and observe in solitude.

However, I ultimately agree with the crux of the late Huxley’s reflection, that to exist indefinitely only as one passing through allows no depth in one’s understanding of humanity, no gratification derived from those chance encounters that leaves one enriched and the more wiser.

In travel, there are stirring experiences to be seized, but there must be that balance between the actor and the audience or I fear one will arrive at their journey’s end with little to show for it.

With that being said, I plan to do just that-  travel by train and eat in restaurants all across southern Thailand, however it will only be for a mere two weeks and not my entire life. I won’t deny the thought has crossed my mind, though. I will leave by the overnight train tonight, and reach the “doorway to the south” city of Surat Thani in the early morning.

Apart from purchasing the train ticket, very little of my excursion is rigidly set, and I consciously planned it this way. It looks as though I will spend several days at the dive haven island Koh Tao, then I will travel down further south to Hat Yai, a city that has unfortunately been plagued with flurries of violence and the Thai government and Muslim insurgents continue to battle on. I’ve been told that it is a gorgeous city, though. And no, foreigners are not necessarily the targets of violence, so there is little cause for worry. From there, I plan to take a small ferryboat to Koh Tarutao, a marine national park that historically served as a penal colony for Thailand. It ceased to be this when, during an economic downpoint, the government stopped sending food supplies, so together the guards and prisoners revolted and escaped the island to Malaysia. Hopefully they found life less dire with the laid-back Malays.

Alright- time to pack. Be well in mind, health, and heart, and by God’s Good Graces you will hear from me in approximately two weeks!

The Thai Tennis Open and the Prodigiously Unexpected Stroke of Good Luck

Everyone has heard of those stories. Or at least, everyone knows someone who has a cousin who had it happen to them. The unexpected stroke of prodigiously good luck which ushers one into an ideal situation by no merit of their own. My friends, I was that person today.

Bridget said she loved a good backhand, so I obliged her

Today was the finals match of the Thai Tennis Open, a competition which boasted several of the world’s top ten players (Nadal backed out at the last minute, blast him). I had previously purchased tickets to the final match with my friend and fellow tennis enthusiast, Bridget. These seats weren’t in the nosebleed section, mind you- they were a row in front of them.

Anyhow, we are on our way to the morning church service when a friend sent me a text that simply stated: “I have a surprise for you when you arrive.” We arrive. Sally, the brilliant heroine of my life at the moment, came up to us beaming and with no further adieu, hands us two tickets. VIP tickets. Seats so close you can almost make out what expletives the players murmur under their breath after an overshot. We love you, Sally.

When the Prime Minister comes out for it, you know the sport is a big deal

There’s no doubt about it- tennis is a serious sport in Thailand. In fact, the prime minister of the country came out to hand the trophy to the winner; quite an honor for any sports tournament. So long story short, we had an absolutely fantastic time watching the Thai Open in the covered, air-conditioned facilities of the Impact Arena, a colossal sports complex I never knew existed until today. The games exhibited a level of prowess and ferocity I had not experienced even watching the women’s singles years ago at the U.S. Open. There were moments during the peak of the fiercest volleys that I barely dared to breath, leaving me gasping by the moment of the victor’s stroke. As a dear friend of mine would put it- absolutely brilliant.

Like a well-played tennis match (apologies to those who despise sports/life analogies), the month of September has had both it periods of intensity and endless periods of volley. Teaching has been at a high point for me. I feel as though I have reached a level in which my students are consistently learning from me. This may sound like a strange statement to make, but when you teach you only become more aware of how difficult it is to have people understand you. Especially when their barely over a decade, crammed in a room with a dozen of their friends, and English is their second language.

This coming week ushers in the frantic studying and taking of mid-term exams, and the next is the last week of the semester. Although this cliche is well past being simply overused, I constantly wonder where all the time has gone, it only feels as though we began the first class two months ago! The end of the semester sees us off on our long anticipated 2-week semester break, and in my next blog I will give more details concerning my upcoming travel plans. To convey how excited I am about them, I will say simply this: I scrapped surfing in Bali for them. Until then readers, play a game of autumn season tennis for me. And win.

An Unsettling Use for Taxi Rearview Mirrors

For whatever reason, it is not unusual to find yourself being inconspicuously stared at by taxi drivers. Being raised where I was the obvious minority, this is something which I’ve grown accustomed to over the years, but today’s ride was different. Every time I glanced up at the rearview mirror, I found the taxi driver’s gaze fixated on me, or at least the area around me- an unnerving situation, to say the least. This continued on for the good part of the ride until we came to a traffic jam. As soon as the car halted, the driver whipped out a pair of thin tweezers and proceeded to use the mirror to pluck out not one, but several nose hairs.

I’m not sure whether this explanation to his intense staring alleviated or worsened my unsettled state.

It is interesting to consider what is and is not proper etiquette in view of the public. For example, many westerners would hardly bat an eye to pick a pineapple fiber from their teeth in public, which for many Thai is fantastically revolting. If it absolutely must occur, most will use one hand to shield their mouth from onlookers and discreetly pick at the offending object with the other. However, I have seen many adult Thai pick their nose in public as commonly as I would swat a mosquito. It really does make me consider all of these standard codes of conduct I have been raised to abide by which, in truth, are not at all standard in the slightest.

Beyond pondering the idiosyncrasies of culture, September is already promising to be an eventful month. One project that has recently fell into my lap is both exciting and at the same time a bit demanding. The editor for a magazine I worked as an intern writer for in my college days caught wind of the article I recently wrote on the bleak living situation of  Mindanao evacuees. She has asked me to write an adapted version for their magazine. Any published material is a great opportunity for me with grad school looming around the corner, but I am finding the free time to work on these projects more and more evasive.

I was quite excited to hear that the Mindanao article will be very soon going out in print, and though I haven’t gotten a look at the layout yet, the photographer for the piece said it looks strong. If you’re interested, we posted a multimedia piece constructed around the photographs and interviews used for the article, and you can see it for yourself here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xw3EA3w58Mo

We created this piece as an effort to gain exposure on what is occurring in Mindanao and help initiate the dialogue towards resolving a desperate situation. Feel free to post this on your facebook or other social website. Although the actual article will be sold in print throughout the Philippines (which bars out access to most of my weblog readers, I assume) I will try to post up its link as soon as it goes online.

Biking and the Inestimable Value of Constancy

Peering down the wooded trail to the intersecting highway, a sensation next to dread wrenched my stomach.

The leaders were nowhere in sight.

Last Saturday’s bike ride had been plagued with ill luck from the start after a first-time biker had almost collapsed over his handlebars soon into the morning ride due to exhaustion and splitting dehydration. Near the roughest section- a swampy trail I’ve dubbed “Monitor Trail” due to past bikers crashing into monitor lizards there the size of small crocodiles- I stayed behind with the gasping rider so as to let the lead bikers push on ahead with the understanding we would meet at the trail’s end. However, as we came closer to the muffled hum of daytime traffic, I realized that they were nowhere in sight. Still being 20 Km. from home and having only gone out with the group twice before, I realized that this could pose a serious problem.

Luckily, by identifying several unique landmarks along the way and asking directions in my poorly accented Thai, we found ourselves at the river ferry, carrying us over the Chao Phraya river and back into the comforting presence of familiar territory. What a fantastic way to spend a Saturday morning!

Biking has truly become a passion of mine in the recent weeks. I had lately been invited by a close friend to accompany his bike group on their 50-60 km outing through serene countryside and dirt trails, but always politely declined. I finally took him up on the offer and have been hooked ever since. In fact, I’ve even joined a spinning class at my gym in order to prepare myself for the weekend excursions.

It’s not only the thrill of the ride that I enjoy- it allows me to experience the genuine side of this fantastic country. The vibrant green hues of young rice fields, the constant flashes of quick-footed wildlife, the timid scent of banana blossoms- these are aspects of my childhood that biking has helped me recapture.

Beyond that, life continues in its rather unhurried, unchanging (yet ever changing) way. My sixth graders are great, though there are times that I want to lock them all in my large filing cabinet and conveniently lose the key. This feeling usually only arrives at the end of the day when the bell rings and I have to force them to get out of the classroom. It’s so strange- you couldn’t have gotten me out of the classroom fast enough when I was their age.

More personally, although I still undergo pangs of isolation and restlessness, I believe that I’ve gotten through the worst of this period. At least, for now. Sometimes I wonder if I really did make out better in life by being born into a family that lived internationally yet never developed roots, anchoring, whatever you choose to call it. True, I wouldn’t have experienced much of what I was able to during my childhood, but since I would have never known what I had missed, I doubt its loss would have troubled me much at all- and possibly I would have had a little more constancy in my life.

The truth is that I know I wouldn’t trade my life overseas for anything, especially knowing that some of my friends have far less stability then I do- and they lived in the same town most of their lives. It’s interesting though, to consider what stability in our lives actually is. I could assume it is simply familiar individuals that bring us a sense of stability; which is true, but let’s be honest- people have the potential of evoking as much instability as well. I could convince myself that it is places that bring stability, but I know (at least for myself) that familiar locations only offer a vague sense of constancy, and are definitely not a prime source of it.

When it comes down to it, my faith and family are the only two aspects of my life which have been present with me all throughout in some form, both in an undulating sort of fashion. Personally, I believe that finding stability has much to do with recognizing the things which are constant in one’s life, whatever they may be, and guarding them well. They are of inestimable value.

A Welcome First

Over steaming bowls of savory Thai soup and spiced heaps of Som Tam (green papaya salad), I found myself for the first time of my teaching tenure being invited to supper with the Thai staff of my school. Truth be told, it was the farewell party of a much-loved Thai office worker who I had grown close to over the past year and I’m sure her insistence had much to do with my presence there. I was also informed by them later that I was invited on the basis of being known as one to enjoy hot food, so it pays to develop an appetite for the local cuisine I suppose.

Despite the obvious language barrier between myself and the rest of the farewell party, we had a fantastic time together. It was so refreshing to be able to interact with the Thai teachers on a level which is quite out of the question within the professional confines of teaching. They let down their guard towards me in a way I had never previously experienced , laughing about our school’s idiosyncracies and colorful characters (and I’m not necessarily referring to students), and ofcourse the customary who-likes-who conversation which is universally interesting.

Although most aspects of my life are bidding well, I have undergone a peculiar array of emotions in the last two weeks. Usually it strikes as simply an overbearing sense of isolation and disconnectdness. For someone like myself who stays fairly emotionally consistent, it is unnerving how vividly this sense of “aloneness” can strike me.

Recently I have begun to recognize that I have struggled with these sensations soon after my father died of cancer during my senior year of highschool. Since then (and for many years preceding it) I’ve lived a life of provisioinal housing and impermanence. Although a part of me thrives on this as allows me to move freely, I’m convinced that a softer, silent part of me yearns for the stability of constancy. I feel as though finding the balance these two things is a tight-rope dance between two extremes: those who never breach their limitations, sticking to only without what they are familiar with, and those who are always flitting from one interest to the next, never enjoying permanence in life.

Sometimes I wonder if this is what my life will entail- countless transitions and changes of scenery in search for some level of peace of mind. May journey have fewer turns, mine is beginning to exhaust me.

Firetwirls on Fourth of July

Within the first hour of arrival, a lively 5th grade girl had split her arm open while sliding down a banister. Although I had spent considerable time preparing for the unexpected while organizing our school’s overnight camp, this was not one of the scenarios I had foreseen. Fortunately, five stitches later saw the student in vibrant spirits, and she was able to participate in most of the retreats’ events

During the two-day camp, students rode ATV’s, went paintballing, and ziplined from a 40 ft. platform down to a surrounding lake- the favorite for many of the students. For the most part, the camp was thankfully deemed a success by students and staff. In retrospect, I had a great time, but I am ultimately glad it is finished and the mantle of responsibility is off my shoulders. For this year, at least.

Much has transpired since last I wrote. Since mid-June, the school year has been underway, and I have made the welcome transition to teaching 6th grade, opposed to teaching only English class for three separate grades last year. My new students are energetic, eager, and incredibly funny- I’ve thoroughly enjoyed teaching them. A recent story involves one of the students writing my name out as “Mr. Chist” in math class and my instructing the whole class that I would answer to nothing but that interpretation of my name for the entire period. Oh, the joys of teaching young minds.

Another highlight was celebrating Fourth of July on a 5-day vacation with half a dozen other teachers on the enticingly warm beaches of Koh Chang Island, situated off the coast of eastern Thailand and Cambodia. While there, we were able to enjoy the island’s evening entertainment- usually fire throwers employed by the myriad of hotels and restaurants stringed along the beach front. It was mesmerizing to watch them fling and twirl kerosene-drenched batons with the dexterity and grace of Bollywood backup dancers.

The following day, we all rented out mopeds and explored several waterfalls that cascaded through the lush foliage of the tropical island. Personally, the apex of the trip came on the last day when I went out on my own and covered the entire perimeter of Koh Chang, discovering spectacular beaches that lay as detached oases on the sparsely populated eastern side.

Recently, we have been informed that the school would be closed for the next three days, due to an outbreak of the infamous swine flu among our own students. Although two of these days will be teacher work days, Monday has become an unexpected vacation and I am not entirely sure of how I am planning to spend it; however, I might take an early morning trip to the Queen’s Snake and Venom Center, where you may watch them “milk” king cobras and other deadly snakes, which they will eventually synthesize into a life-saving vaccine. I’ve always wanted to make the trip, but teaching has always prevented me.

Trust me- if I go, I will be sure to take photos of the process.

Be well and in good spirits my loyal (albeit intangible) friends.

The Mindanao IDP’s: The Living Casualties of a Weary War

The attack occurred in the middle of dinner.

When we first arrived in the war-torn region of Mindanao, a Philippine island which has endured over thirty years of violent conflict, I was not at all sure what awaited us. A photojournalist

(http://benjaminrasmussen.com/Photo/Index.html) and I flew down to the volatile region of Datu Piang to capture the suffering and hardships of the tens of thousands of evacuees who have fled their homes due to the battles ensuing in their rice fields and backyards.

Upon arriving, the situation was strained. The MILF (Moro Islamic Liberation Front) had bombed a bridge that morning and military blockades were turning away vehicles constantly. Due to the imposed media blackout, our escort carried us through the checkpoints by introducing us to the soldiers as “Father Ben” and “Father Chris”.

Much of our work was done within the evacuation camps, shelters teeming with tattered blue-tarped tents, slick mud, and small swarming children. Some of what families endured was unbelievable: howitzer shells exploding 30 meters from their homes, their houses being lit on fire to “teach a lesson to the community. However, it was the presence of deep-seated fear and the unknown for the future that struck me as incredibly profound. For many, their life’s priorities had been whittled down to simply finding a way to provide rice for their families’ next meal. With the military blockades turning away the majority of aid convoys, many had gone for months without food or medical aid.

We were in the middle of supper when the piercing sound of RPG’s and the crackling of assault rifles pierced through the tranquility of the evening. The attack occurred approximately 2 km. from where we were staying; like a small town parade, all the neighbors lined the sides of the streets in order to get a better view of the ongoing attack. Luckily, no civilians were injured that night, although we did find bloodstains in the Muslim cemetery the next day, the position the MILF attacked from.

It was an evocative week for me- I was able to experience the frustration and emptiness of the situation firsthand, meeting many incredible individuals along the way. One man in particular stood out: his name was Yul and had volunteered for the last ten year serving with a local NGO called Bantay Ceasefire, an organization dedicated to doing whatever is possibly in their means to prevent blood from spilling on Mindanao soil due to the conflict. He was a schoolteacher but as he states it, “Everyone has stake in this war. If you are not voicing out against it, you are allowing it to occur.”

The article I am writing will be finished and possibly in print within the coming month. I will try to send out a link to those of you who are interested in checking it out through this blog. Here are some images I took during the the trip: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chrismart28/show/

The Last Game

A persistent ring sounds off in the distance like a yell that never fully reaches the hearer.

Soft, sweat-stained hands reach out for the final enthusiastic high-five of the summer. The ecstatic voices of young children reverberate against the paneled walls of the small gym, dodgeballs careening back and forth despite the last game of the day coinciding with the last game of the summer.

So summer school has ended, and with its closure my summer’s journey has commenced. Change of plans- I won’t be heading out for a second trip to Bali. Time was simply too short, so I have opted a for a week trip to go surfing off Phuket, an island off the coast of southern Thailand, where I will be joined by my surfing comrade Craig, his wife Michelle, and his two small children.

The past few weeks have been an ongoing blur of activity, teaching, and brief periods of respite so as for now, there is little that I have to say that is worth the reading. I’m looking forward to these next few weeks of summer break to rest, recollect, and emotionally prepare myself for the oncoming school year. For myself, teaching is far more an emotional test of endurance than it is of any other area. To remain positive amidst frustration, passionate when dogged by gnawing apathy, and loving when resentment is the predominate sensation- this is my interpersonal battle as one who teaches as a full-time occupation.

I am leaving in half an hour for the airport, so I believe I have held packing at bay long enough. Stay in touch my friends, and wish me over some stellar surfing conditions for the next week!

Liquid.

Admittedly, last week was an unusual, emotionally-charged time for those of us who reside within the Bangkok region. It was marked by the festive spirit arising from Songkran, the Thai New Year celebration well-known as the “world’s largest water fight” where shops shut down and everyone does their best to soak each other thoroughly for three days straight. Unfortunately, it was also filled with tense anxiety as the political opposition party erupted with a series of violent clashes with government troops in the streets of Bangkok.

My journal entry at the time:

..Amidst the threat of rioting, we made our way down to Khao San Road (a Bangkok street famed for its foreign tourists and Sangkran water fights), which was absolutely writhing with Songkran spirit. The streets and alleyways were teeming with people who carried with them every sort of water-projectile mechanism imaginable.

I looked down at my feet and saw that the white chalky paste smeared on one’s face [during Songkran] had intermixed with the excess water to create a small, milky stream down the main road. It reminded me how blood flowing during a fierce battle must appear.

After a while, they began to shut down many of the streets, claiming that the red-shirts (Opposition Party) were on their way there and no one exactly knew what was going to happen..

Fortunately, we made it out with no serious difficulties and from what I heard, even when the protesters did arrive, violence wasn’t headlining the demonstrations.

Fortunately, Thai people didn’t let the political tensions to dampen their Songkran spirit and I joined up with the uproarious neighborhood party, which made it their sole mission to soak every truck ladened full of water warriors with ice water. There are facial expressions observed following the impact of the frigid liquid that will never be etched out of my memory.

Music blared from the DJ hired by a local businessman, people donned themselves with flowery Sonkran shirts danced and grooved in the streets, and beer flowed almost as freely as the water- Thais love a good party like none other!

After the celebrations that left my head spinning, I got away to Hua Hin Beach and spent the last of my week break reading “Pride and Prejudice” (excellent, by the way), finalyzing a short story, and eating cheap, fantastic seafood. The summer is going exceedingly well and I find myself presently refreshed and fully-invigorated.

So far, my plans after teaching summer school begins with a week of surfing down in Phuket, an island off the coast of southern Thailand with adequate waves. May 14th will find me on a plane out to the Philippines, spending one week there with my mom and another week writing an article for a non-profit magazine concerning the refugee camps down in Mindano.

Although I am saddened in not having the pleasure of visiting many of you during the summer, you can observe that it is being put to adequate use and please know that I miss many of you very much- please continue in your correspondence with me during the continuing months!