Once more, from the top!

Mae Sot has been so very protected from Covid, and we’ve only had three cases total. The last one was on 4 April, so if things go well, we might open up more on 30 April; we’re waiting for the government statements releasing this week. We are SO THANKFUL.

And with that, we’re preparing to re-open things starting this Friday! This, hopefully, was our last food distribution to help the community weather the economic challenge of quarantine.

We’re thankful for all those who helped us do this: to those who gave financially, to Thida who helped me pack our car ridiculously full at the market each week, to the teenagers who carried bag after bag! We’re also thankful to be back to development-based projects very soon.

Here we go again!

After a few weeks, it was getting challenging for the youth. Partially, delivering food in 100 degree heat is exhausting. This is also over a couple kilometers, going back and forth; and dealing with people and complaints. So…we revamped. This week, Stephen drove the boys around to different areas, helping with deliveries and trying to help manage the challenge and chaos.

And while we’re getting better and serving more…this isn’t exactly what we’d like to be good at. 🙄 Here’s to hoping it’s just a few more weeks of quarantine in Mae Sot!

Our first food distribution was an incredible gift. It went so smoothly and was received so well. In the week following, we had three women come separately to tell us thank you, each with their own stories of waking up without rice and unsure what they’d do on the very day the youth showed up at their door. It was so clear that God had led us in the exact day to distribute the food, and we were thankful, awed, and hopeful.

But I’ll be honest, all the things we feared about beginning food distributions came true the following week. And I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t. But that doesn’t seem right or truthful.

We did pack up another set of food for forty families last week. There were three not-to-be-forgotten highlights.

First, I ordered rice in pre-sealed bags. This was the wise idea of Stephen, who was over the idea of hand-scooping 300 kilograms of rice with a three-year-old. I went on my own to order it on Friday: I got 40 bags of 10 kilograms each, all packed and sealed. Then on Saturday, after buying all the eggs and oil and vegetables in the market, Thida and I went to pick up the rice. I told her on the way, “Look, I went and tried my best to pick out the best one. We usually buy it at the other shop, where I can say, ‘The one my auntie always buys.’ I couldn’t do that here. I went ahead and bought 400 kilograms, in forty bags. It might have been the wrong kind. I may have way over-paid. It might have been a really bad deal. But I tried, and we’re just going to take it this week. Then, you show me which one is the best deal, and I’ll get that for next week so I know at this shop. I’m sorry if I picked the wrong one and spent way too much money.”

Sometimes, if we are “wasteful”–I cut off too much peel off a pumpkin, throw away the skin on chicken, or pay a few baht more for fruit at this market versus that one–I get scolded. I was nervous I’d gotten the wrong rice or paid a horrible deal; but I was also loving the idea of picking up forty already-packaged bags.

Well, here’s the win: we got there, and Thida was so pleased! She said I’d picked just the right one, and it was cheaper than the other shop! She thought it was wonderful they had bagged it and it looked so nice; it was such a good gift for the community.

She did scold me for not telling her before she’d bought a bag of rice at the other shop 🙄

But this was a big win. Maybe one I can’t really even express, but it was like “an arrival”: I can go to a shop and pick out the “right” kind of rice for our community (of like twenty kinds!) and even get a good deal. WOW.

Second highlight: I got a headstart while Oak napped, which made the whole process much smoother.

And third, he helped for about thirty minutes the second week and did so with glee–an improvement.

Then Monday. It didn’t go smoothly; it was stressful. And those who are helping us–our dear Thida and the three teenage boys–they got the flack with us. They get blamed for being our friends, for not doing enough or not giving enough themselves. It was messy. I ended in tears, far too aware of the situation surrounding us.

The week continued in this, as we had families coming nearly every day to ask for rice. This was people we didn’t know, who had walked kilometers to tell us that they didn’t have any rice and heard we gave some. Could we please help?

This was entirely my fear. We completely ran out of rice by Wednesday, without anything to offer. We spent the week getting help from Lun and her local church.

We had multiple requests for medical help this week; for now just ear infections and prenatal check ups and fevers.

But it felt endless; it felt heavy. On multiple occasions I felt terrified it was only the second week of food distributions, with five on the calendar and unsure how long this really will last. On multiple occasions I felt guilty, trying to enjoy this time as a family or baking something for dinner. On multiple occasions I hated that it fell to us to be the distributors, to make the call; I dreaded this role and power when we started.

If I’m honest, though, that was week two. Nothing that seems blog-worthy; nothing that we might call beautiful. But I still believe God was in it, and I still believe we were doing what we should.

We did our first food distribution on Monday.

I was quite scared as it drew near. We knew it was needed and the right thing to do; and it’s just a simple food distribution.  And while we are nervous for how and when Covid reaches our community, we feel like the lack of work and lack of movement is hurting them economically far before that. For a neighborhood living on daily wages (and sometimes barely living on those), having work cancelled for some, irregular for others, and unsure of what tomorrow will hold is chaotic. The idea of stocking up, even for a few days, is nearly impossible.

But we’ve spent so many years trying to establish boundaries: when we give, how we give. We’ve tried so hard to provide skills and jobs and relationships, not just give stuff. To just distribute food; it goes against so much of what we have worked so hard to create. There is a part of me that is scared we can’t go back; scared it will change the way we go forward.

But that might be how we all describe Covid for years to come.

And all the same, it’s what is needed in this season. It’s what is needed now, and we have to trust that God will provide in every aspect of the needs for community here and for our lives here: financially, physically, strategically, emotionally. We have to trust that he’s a God of completeness as he calls us to be here.  

So, here we go. None of us thought we’d be here in a million different ways. 

On Sunday afternoon we worked as a family of three packing up the food we’d purchased in the market that morning.

Oak helped us put cabbage into bags for ten minutes, and we spent the following two hours trying to prevent him from breaking eggs and smashing vegetables. (#quarantinewithatoddler) We packed up forty bags of rice–six-kilos scooped into flour bags we’ve been storing for something such as this!– and divided out cucumbers, cabbages, eggplant, garlic, onion, duck eggs, and chicken eggs that we’d purchased in bulk. 

Monday we had three teenagers scheduled to come by 8am, so we pulled them out of bed at 8:30am. (Because it’s still summer and they are still teenagers.) We handed out masks, gave them a bottle of hand sanitizer, and explained the goal: to reach the poorest families and those who really needed it.  We gave them a list of families that we knew would need it, and then gave them the authority to decide from there. We talked to them about the goal: to reach those who needed it, the poor. If they don’t need it, encourage people not to take it. If someone needs more, encourage them to share. And while one group of houses is all sharing germs, wash your hands as you go between communities to ensure you don’t pass anything between them. 

And it worked. It went far better than we could have hoped!

We let Oak go outside for the community right around us—with a mask and followed by a shower—to see some friends and share some food. We want him to understand why we are sharing food with our neighbors, why we aren’t seeing our friends, and perhaps even why I got angry when he threw his food earlier this week. 

The boys then trekked all over the neighborhood,, taking load after load of rice by bicycle. Oak’s bicycle seat can hold up to 22 kilos, so that’s helpful!

It was so great to hear their conversations: Does so-and-so need it? …We can ask. What about so-and-so? …No, they will be okay. This family will need it more.

Two of the boys even decided their aunt, who is a bit wealthier and currently on paid leave from two jobs, didn’t really need it as much as other families. 

Or to overhear, “Where are you?” … “Washing my hands!”…”Wash them at the end, not now. Come on!” … “He can wash them whenever he wants. Washing them a lot is good!” 

The boys were such a help. It is extra work for them (and so more money for their families); and much easier on us. We are exposed to different germs than much of our community—our trips to immigration this week, the grocery store, etc—and we don’t want to bring anything into the community.  We also felt that Oak couldn’t go to all the places safely, leaving just one of us to trek around in the heat through many kilos of rice. The boys were able to do it together in just over an hour. 

We also really loved seeing them have the authority to make decisions, to help their communities, and to deal with questions and explanations on their own. It feels like a small way to set an example of what Christ has asked us to do, but equip them to carry it, too. 

And so it begins: Covid Food Distributions, Take 1.