SE Asia #2 – Shalom from Chiang Mai
By Ben Volman, Toronto Ministry Team Leader and Messianic Rabbi of Kehillat Eytz Chaim / Tree of Life Congregation
By Ben Volman, Toronto Ministry Team Leader and Messianic Rabbi of Kehillat Eytz Chaim / Tree of Life Congregation
(Ben was kindly invited to travel to Thailand and speak to a group of local pastors and evangelists about a Messianic perspective of the Gospel. And, since he will be “in the area,” he’ll also visit the Philippines to visit some pastors there.)
Chang Mai, Thailand is definitely an Israeli hotspot. I bump into one outside an Israeli restaurant and we both say, “Shalom.” Inside, the menu is in Hebrew and English. The waitresses are Thai, but a few of the clientele are definitely Israeli. My own waitress takes my order with few problems, though she agrees that she has only a bit of English. Like almost every Thai person I meet.
My Canadian host, Beverley, and the Thai pastor, Piret, explain that the Thai language itself is very difficult—a mixture of Indian and Cambodian languages and script, with its own grammar. Yet many of the peoples here in the north are born into tribal ethnicities that aren’t Thai. So their first language is the language of their own people; then they learn Thai and add to that some required English at school. Even those who have dedicated themselves to learning English struggle to make themselves understood. I’m a good Canadian and encourage their efforts, but it’s a stretch.
Over the last few days, I’ve been figuring out how to venture out and about.
Navigating Chang Mai is not that difficult, although the area where I’m staying has no sidewalks and the space where you’d normally be walking is constantly taken up by the mopeds and scooters that that seem almost as common here as pedestrians in other places. An old-fashioned bicycle is a rarity. Why would you walk when you could ride? And generally the traffic here moves at a reasonable pace—the truly obnoxious drivers are few and people tend to give way—which is in keeping with Thai culture. (They are great believers in karma—so cutting off someone in traffic will be paid for sooner or later. Unfortunately they don’t really respond well to accidents—victims are simply taking another step forward in the karmic cycle.)
Much as I had been told that the city is a peaceful refuge after the hectic pace of Bangkok, it’s hardly idyllic. Many of the areas remind me of the rundown areas of Tel Aviv or Toronto’s old Kensington market area. People had told me frequently of the Night Bazaar and when I get there, I find a crowded area where sidewalks and enclosed malls are an endless series of little stalls selling many of the same types of goods: packaged silks; animal mugs with the handles resembling beaks, snouts or trunks; varieties of T-shirts; carved elephants; raw silk purses. I pass by a father and his son who have their feet immersed in a fish tank where the fish are supposed to feed off the rough skin. “How does it feel?” I ask the Dad. He gives me the thumbs up.
Every morning I wake up to the sound of roosters crowing in the yards facing the back of my hotel room. There is an extensive Thai breakfast—very plain white bread that I butter and top with a fried egg. There’s salad and the only dressing is a sweet mayonnaise. Sticky and fried rice is accompanied by vegetable soup and chicken flecked with hot peppers. Most things are marked in English, including sausages (which I assume are pork and avoid). Then I get picked up. Although my usual driver is notoriously late—one time, he didn’t arrive until almost 9:20 and sessions started at 9. After that, another driver began picking me up. This one is a stalwart, heavy set evangelist named Super; he comes early. I like him. He drives me to Beulah Christian Church which is not far, out in a more suburban area. Across the lane, there’s a huge white house the size of an overblown Rosedale mansion with a balcony suitable for the White House.
The room where I’m speaking is about the same size as the North Banquet Hall at Wellspring with a few chairs. When my students like what I’ve been saying, they give me a thumbs up. When they are less enthusiastic, they sit there with their arms folded. On occasion, I look over the room and everyone has their arms folded, even my host. I have taught them about Day of Atonement, the sacrifices in Leviticus and how these lead up to the ultimate sacrifice of Messiah, the Holocaust and the roots of anti-Semitism in the church. I have also spoken about the birth of Israel. I show pictures of Theodore Herzl and Ben Gurion. Have they heard of these people? No. They ask me questions about Creation.
I’ve learned that after our Thai lunch (kindly made by the church ladies) almost everyone will nod off with the heat. So I do a difficult subject in the morning, and in the afternoon, a simpler sermon. My translator is a gentleman of about my vintage—very gracious, a former pastor who studied for a year in Philadelphia.
(He speaks fondly of having visited Niagara Falls, but being unable to cross the border to see the Canadian Horseshoe Falls—the better ones.)
Every day I thank him for his faithful work in translating me, reading the extensive Scriptures in Thai and helping me to answer questions, to which I often add more information. May the Lord bless him. When we close the sessions, I thank him profusely and he often says, “It’s hard, but it’s been good.” I agree.
Later, I begin to spend time praying for my students. Praying for what will work here and what they need to know. Today is Friday, and I’m grateful because I know you’ve been praying for me.
Shalom from Chiang Mai.