"What Language are they speaking?" and comments on the weather

I'm sitting next to my host sister dancing along with a a video of a man dancing to a Korean song. "Pasa Thai" (speaking Thai?). She shakes her head no."Pasa Japanese?" Nope. "Pasa Korean?" third guess confirmed. This, along with listening to the popular radio on our drives to dinner, awaken me to the fact that I really am in a much more cross-cultural environment than I'm used to. In America is it just because we're across the ocean from a majority of the other major pop culture makers and shakers or that we're more autonomous in some ways, culturally than other nations who are closer geographically? Or is America not the factor, but my own location in America? I mean, more of the time I'm in Grantham, PA (not exactly a cosmopolitan center) or in Dayton Ohio (not much better). I hear Barbara tell her tales from Phili this semester and I am absolutely shocked at the cross cultural experience she's getting only 60 minutes from Grantham. Maybe I need to "get out more".
Today was Lent and I went to 7 fountains Catholic Church, the same place that I did the three day silent retreat at. The service was mostly in Thai with occassional interjections in English to explain what was going on. The Priest had an amazing Thai accent and when he spoke English he definitely didn't have an American accent. Actually, it almost sounded Spanish, though he seemed to be a slightly tanned caucasian. I was tempted to be frustrated at not being able to understand what was being said for most of the service, but then I realized how rediculously egocentric I was being. Lana, you're in freaking Thailand. What do you expect? In fact, how backwards would it have been if the sermon was predominately in English? What would that say about our presence there? If that had happened, I hope that I would've been partially inclined to walk out.
I've really loved going to a liturgical Church. Maybe the Catholic Church has a different vibe than it does back home, but I didn't feel like any of the liturgy or the ritual that was being done was being done simply out of habit or out of feeling of obligation. Whenever I go, I feel like the people who worship at this church genuinely want to be there and seek to worship God with lives of service, although I've never had many conversations with many of the church members to really know. Something just seems different. Although I was conviced before I came, I now know that I definitely have to read more from the Church Father and Mothers, starting with St. Ignatius of Loyola.
It's official: we've moved out of the "cold" season and into the hot. And boy is it hot! Every day I feel sticky and slick from sweat, which is not the most pleasant feeling in the world. Also, I realized, since my host family doesn't have airconditioning, that I've never had to live in a place where it's this hot without having the comfort of an airconditioner. Sure, in Honduras and Nicaragua we sometimes did without it, and there are always those occassional days or weeks when the air goes out over the summer. But I've never gone without it for such a long period of time. It's opening my eyes and making me more and more thankful and appreciative for those little comforts that I so often take for granted.

Oh, and I miss rain. Cooling, drenching rain. Rain that pitter patters, growing in intensity until it becomes an unignorable pounding. Let it pound away, I don't care, just let it fall! The clouds are all predictable here: all white and fluffy, offering no relief from sticky, sizzling skin. At least they're honest, I suppose: no teasers to be seen. Every single one of them bluntly shoots down all your longing thoughts: "Nope, no rain for the next few months. Just deal with it". But I...."Just deal." Urgg.. but I guess I've always been a bit too sensitive for full-out bluntness.