Over the years, Tony and I have amassed an impressive collection of stuff from around the world. However, I am determined not to surround myself with “stuff,” so I have intentionally purged until all that remains is meaningful in some way. There’s still a lot left, but each item has a story to tell. Unfortunately, my contract in Thailand didn’t include a shipping allowance, so those stories have been silenced and stashed at a storage facility in Florida.
Here in Bangkok, I stare at cream-colored wallpaper, beige furniture, neutral fixtures, and an off-white tile floor. It’s killing me to know our storage unit is bursting with rich Anatolian carpets, riotously colorful Indian artwork, and stunning carved furniture from China. Not wanting to buy more stuff, I have decided to wait one year in this blandness to make sure I want to stay in Thailand long enough to justify shipping over some of our most beloved belongings.
In the meantime, I couldn’t resist purchasing one carpet to brighten up my living room. Thailand has an Amazon-ish online shopping site called Lazada, where I got lost in a sea of carpets, most of which were either cheap and hideous or attractive and pricey. I finally found one that seemed happy and affordable, so I dropped it in my virtual cart. I’ve been looking forward to rolling out a splash of color and sinking my toes into the pile.
When I got home from school the other day, a small packet was waiting at the door. I couldn’t imagine what it could be. Turns out it was my “carpet.” More of a mat really. A mat with a loud stamped-on pattern.
I thought about returning it, but honestly, I just couldn’t navigate one more unfamiliar thing. Instead, I decided to laugh about another lesson learned and to appreciate this cheesy, cheery addition to my home.
When we first got to Bangkok, jet lag kicked me in the teeth. I kept waiting for my body to adjust to Thailand time, but the anguish ensued. Finally, there was no denying this was not your ordinary jetlag. Something else was wrong.
After bloodwork, ultrasounds, and other tests found no clinical reason for my insomnia, I sought help from a sleep specialist. Suspecting sleep apnea, he ordered a sleep study, which I did Friday night.
Sidebar: I was sitting at a nail salon Thursday afternoon, preparing for a mani-pedi when the hospital called to make sure I didn’t polish my nails before the sleep study. I told them I was literally just about to get my nails painted, and they said, “Well, just leave one fingernail clean.” The nail technician told me to return next week, and she’d finish the job. The hospital also told me I had to wash my hair but couldn’t use conditioner. So many mysteries! The nail salon posted my friend and me on their Facebook page. Note the wrong preposition. Grammar matters, friends!
Friday after school, I grabbed a taxi to meet Tony for a nice dinner before my appointment.
Faithful readers will know my affinity for Bumrungrad International Hospital. I’m so grateful for the world-class care and customer service.
Off to my room.
My lovely nurse, Julaluk, told me she had worked here for 10 years (even though she looked about 20 years old), and she clearly knew her way around the complicated world of preparing me for the night. As she stuck sensors all over my head, I suddenly understood why conditioner might render my hair too slippery for this procedure. And when she strapped a sensor to my index finger to monitor oxygen absorption, the need for an unpainted fingernail made sense. Mysteries solved!
Here’s what I looked like when she finally finished, along with a key to explain all the gear.
A: EEG measured the state of my sleep
B: measured eye movements to determine when I entered REM sleep
C: monitored whether I was grinding my teeth
D: measured airflow through my nose
E: measured oxygen saturation in my body
F: monitored whether I was snoring
G: belts measured chest and abdominal movement
H: sensors under my shirt monitored my heart rate
I: monitored muscle contractions in my legs
J: the machine collecting all the data, which stayed in bed with me all night and hung from my shoulder when I got up to use the bathroom
After serving me breakfast in the morning, Julaluk sent me off to meet with Dr. Sikawat Thanaviratananich. (Whew! Thai names are no joke.)
Dr. T spoke perfect English and explained that I have severe obstructive sleep apnea. He had previously shown me images online to clarify that obstructive sleep apnea occurs when the tongue, muscles, or other tissues block the upper airway, preventing the intake of adequate oxygen. When these episodes happen, the brain experiences a microarousal to trigger breathing again.
Most people have fewer than 5 microarousals per hour while sleeping. Last night’s sleep test found I experience about 39 per hour. Not cool. That explains why I never feel rested, Dr. T said.
He showed me a readout that shows a line with crests and dips, indicating I was taking normal breaths. Then suddenly the line goes almost flat for more than 30 seconds, suggesting I stopped breathing. Another blip shows my brain experiencing a microarousal, followed by a dramatic swing up in the breathing line. “See how you took a deep breath to compensate,” Dr. T explained.
Unfortunately, the only treatment at this time for severe obstructive sleep apnea is the use of a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine. I tried on three different versions last night.
“Goldilocks – the CPAP Edition”
The first one had the least invasive mask and blew air directly into my nostrils. However, it was nearly impossible to exhale without opening my mouth, which apparently is a no-no. The second one featured a mask that covered my nose and mouth. Breathing was easier, but the pressure on my face was uncomfortable. The third one fitted over my nose and felt a bit snoutlike. Very attractive. Still, of the three, I suppose this was my “just right.” Dr. T said the data showed I breathed best with this mask, although I still opened my mouth (which defeats the purpose). He wants me to wear a chin strap in addition to the machine. It just gets better and better.
Now that I know what’s going on with my wacked body, I am actually looking forward to strapping on this wretched machine. Like Goldilocks, I hope I can climb into bed and fall into a deep sleep for the first time in a long time. See you in dreamland! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Who doesn’t love a great haircut and fabulous color? The problem is I just hate sitting at a salon for the hours it takes to get those results.
I recently discovered Wing Salon in my community, and I got a lovely cut from the owner, Amie. She told me it would take 2-3 hours to get color, and I. just. couldn’t.
Instead, I grabbed a box of L’Oreal Excellence Creme at a local pharmacy. I had a little giggle when I translated the Thai name of the shade.
Check out the instructions! Good thing it’s not my first rodeo. (OK, full disclaimer: There were English instructions, too.)
It turned out a little less “sparkling dark blonde” and a little more “mahogany,” but it’ll do.
Transitions are tricky. Even when you transition to something better, there’s still a learning curve. My transition to Thailand has been wonderful in many ways: Tony is here and has a year of Bangkok under his belt. My school took such great care of me as I settled in my new house. And thanks to our time in Laos, the Southeast Asian culture is not entirely foreign.
Still, daily life requires learning something almost hourly as I try to navigate life. It seemed all my questions need answers immediately or I can’t function. One of my biggest challenges came as a surprise – being a vegetarian here is not at all simple. I feel like a neolithic hunter-gatherer (albeit hunting lentils, chickpeas, and tofu rather than wild animals) as I try to sort out my meals every day. Worse, my jetlag extended into chronic insomnia, which has robbed me of the rest and rejuvenation needed to power through each new day. I’m left edgy and emotional, not useful qualities in a middle school teacher.
All this is to say many special moments arise throughout my life here, AND I am exhausted. I often think, “Oh wow, I should blog about that!” but by the time I can sit down to write, I just want to crash on the sofa with a glass of wine and a mindless show on Netflix.
I had a revelation yesterday. The whole reason I started my blog was to document this incredible life for myself. I don’t have to wait for spectacular travel experiences or full-length feature stories. I’ll just share the interesting, weird, wonderful, and frustrating moments as they happen. So, stay tuned …
Lovely moment of the week: Our community was introduced to Naziya, a Pakistani woman who trained as an esthetician. Many of her family members have fled to Thailand to seek asylum, and one way they are making ends meet is by selling food. Always on the quest for good vegetarian meals and a sucker for a facial, I invited Naziya to my home for a treatment earlier this week. She cooked saag paneer and garlic naan for me, which was delicious, and I’m pretty sure I look 10 years younger after her glorious facial.
When it comes to Buddhist temples, I have definitely seen my fair share. (Check out my Wat’O’The Week series from when we lived in Laos.) However, I never participated in a temple ceremony … until now.
I was chatting with our school’s athletic director, Matt, earlier this week about being a vegetarian in Thailand. He mentioned that his wife, Oon, ate vegetarian once a week to honor Buddhist teachings. I texted her to say, “Hey, I would love to join you for vegetarian food some time!” and she immediately wrote back, saying, “Today is Buddhist day! We can go find vegetarian food for dinner if you’re interested.”
That evening, Oon picked me up in her golf cart and took me to V-Kitchen, a vegan Thai restaurant in our ‘hood. The food was delicious, albeit a tad spicy. (And since it was Buddhist day, I didn’t want to order a beer to cut the fire. ) Each dish was bursting with Thai flavors and tasted like their traditional meaty counterparts. I will definitely return!
During dinner, Oon mentioned that she was hoping to visit the temple because it was a Buddhist holiday. Always keen for a cultural event, I jumped at the chance to join her.
First, we drove to Oon’s house to switch vehicles and outfits. She put on a white top, and we both donned long embroidered wrap-skirts, called sinh. I actually own a gorgeous sinh from Laos, but we didn’t have time to swing by my house. I loved the bright yellow color of the sinh Oon lent me.
Golf carts can’t venture too far from our neighborhood, so we jumped in Oon’s car and headed for Viriyadhammo Meditation Center, about 30 minutes away. A full moon peeked out from the cloudy sky, and bright lights illuminated the rural temple. I couldn’t see much beyond the car headlights, but Oon said the temple was surrounded by rice paddies.
Asahna Bucha Day, a national holiday, occurs on the first full moon of the eighth lunar month. This year, it fell on Tuesday. It commemorates the day that Buddha delivered his first formal sermon after his enlightenment.
According to the Fan Club Thailand website, Thais celebrate Asahna Bucha Day with a visit to the temple.
In Buddhism, white represents purity and many devotees will wear a white top when visiting the temple on the main Buddhist holidays. Temples across the country are busier than usual on these dates with Thai people giving alms to monks and performing the wian tian ceremony. This involves a person holding a lighted candle (tian), incense and flowers as they walk clockwise in a circle (wian) three times around the main bot of the temple.
Sure enough, that’s what we did.
We kicked off our shoes and climbed the steps, which were flanked by a huge silver Phaya Naga, the mythical half-human half-snake that guards the temple. At the top, people were kneeling on mats and chanting. Someone handed Oon a couple of mats for us, so we found a spot to sit. Oon took a book of chants, found the correct page, and joined the chanting, while I just soaked in the peaceful vibe.
Chanting at the temple.
Oon explained that the people dressed in white with dark sashes were staying at the temple to study and meditate. The women with shaved heads were nuns. She said women can become a nun temporarily, something she hopes to do someday for a month or so.
At the base of the temple, a waterfall flowed over two nagas, while a monkey figure appeared to climb the wall. I asked Oon why there was a monkey, and she said when Buddha would teach, even the animals gathered to listen. A huge golden Buddha topped the temple, and Oon noted it was the “Saturday Buddha,” and she was born on Saturday, so it was particularly special. I previously wrote about the Buddha’s days-of-the-week poses here, so I knew that Saturday Buddha is sitting in meditation with the naga protecting him.
On the other side of the water, a raised platform held an altar replete with special treats and drinks to attract spirits. Several monks faced the altar, and a master held a microphone to lead the chants and offer teachings.
After awhile, everyone stood up, stacked their mats, and took a candle, a lotus flower, and three sticks of incense, which symbolized Buddha, his teachings, and the monks, according to Oon. Worshippers repeated a chant as we walked clockwise around the temple three times. Then we stuck the incense sticks in a big pot of sand, and placed the candles and flowers near the altar.
Everyone sat down again, and the master invited people to come forward to present their prayers and receive blessings. Oon gripped a white envelope, and told me to hold the other side. “Make a wish,” she said. “Think about the people you love.” Then she grabbed my hand and we shuffled forward on our knees across some turf and up a couple stairs. Of course, I didn’t understand what was being said, but it was clear the monk was receiving our wishes. I imitated Oon’s gestures to show respect, and then we shuffled backward down to our spots.
Soon the master stood up with a bundle of sticks and a helper carrying a bucket. “It’s holy water,” Oon said excitedly. The master dipped the sticks in the water and shook them over the kneeling worshippers. A few stray drops landed on my shoulder. “Oh, that’s lovely,” I thought to myself. Then the master approached, dipped the sticks in the bucket, let all the water pour down on my head, and then pounded me on the head and upper back with the sticks. “He must have thought I needed a LOT of holy water,” I whispered to Oon.
After watching him douse a few other worshippers, we stood up to leave.
On the way home, Oon joyfully shared her feelings and beliefs about Buddhism. She sticks to the commandments: Don’t lie. Don’t steal. Don’t commit adultery. Don’t kill or harm living beings. Don’t drink alcohol. I told her I might struggle with that last one a bit, and she reassured me that you’re allowed to enjoy your beer or wine; just avoid intoxication. Sounds like a good plan.
Evenings like this are why I love living abroad. I could always pop over to a temple on my own, but experiencing the ceremony with Oon and sharing in her passion was profoundly moving and great fun.
After one week in Thailand, I’m coherent enough to possibly crank out a quick post. Usually a pro at jetlag (get on the local schedule ASAP, stay hydrated, go for walks when you get tired!), I was sucker punched this time around. Fortunately, I had a very soft landing.
The leadership team at Ruamrudee International School met Tony and me at the airport and shuttled us to my rented house. There, we were greeted by Oon, the realtor who graciously received our deliveries of cat supplies. After quickly setting up the cat litter and freeing Ella from her crate, we began to relax.
During our first week, I attended orientation activities at school, and Tony stayed at my house on stand-by for the internet provider and other contractors. After living in Bangkok for the last year, he is an old pro! He also popped over to his apartment on the other side of town a couple of times to unpack and run errands. Depending on the time of day, it appears we can travel to each other’s neighborhoods in about 30 minutes.
We didn’t have to worry about food for our first week, which was a huge relief. The coordinator of the new teacher orientation, Debbie, became my private chauffeur, shuttling me to and from school for meals. But Debbie was so much more than a driver. She radiated kindness and positivity, bending over backward to meet the needs of our group despite myriad logistical challenges. In fact, all the RIS staff have outdone themselves in the hospitality department. This has possibly been the easiest transition I’ve had in the last 21 years abroad.
The school and my house are located in Perfect Place, a huge community of gated neighborhoods. Frankly, it’s not that different from The Villages in Florida. In fact, rather than buying a car, I have rented a golf cart! I can drive it to school and to an area with restaurants, shops, and outdoor markets. When I need to venture beyond the bubble, taxis are easy to find.
Overall, I am absolutely pumped to be here. I love my house. I love my neighborhood. I love the people I’ve met so far. Bring on the students!
Tomorrow, we start real orientation. Lots of meetings with lots of information. I’m sure it will be intense after this gentle pre-orientation week. If only I could get some sleep …
I’m fading fast, so I’m just going to post a gallery of school pics.
The admin building.The middle school, my new home away from home!One of many lovely spots on this campus.One of two pools.The Nest, a meeting room.The culinary arts classroom. What?!There are SO many options in the cafeteria! The secondary library. These little sculptures were all over campus. One of the covered gyms.Assemblies take place at the flag pole each week.A bright hallway leading to art classrooms.
As I prepare to move to Thailand, I’m camped out at our house in The Villages, a 55+ community in central Florida. When my parents moved here, we bought this place as a vacation rental while abroad and as our home base when visiting the States.
The only other time I’ve spent more than a few weeks here was during the pandemic. I had come from Chile to see my mom and got stuck here. Although Florida was pretending Covid didn’t exist, I continued to follow Chile’s approach: strict social distancing, wearing a mask, and staying home. So it wasn’t a whole lot of fun.
This time, I’m accessing my inner joiner. I love classes, clubs, and community events, and there is no shortage of such things in this surreal Disneyland for grown-ups. The Parks and Recreation list of clubs is 204 pages long. Two hundred and four pages!
So far, I’ve joined a weekly ladies coffee klatsch, a book club, and a hiking group, and I reached out to the organizer of a club for international teachers (which won’t meet again till September, unfortunately).
I’ve had great conversations with ladies over coffee and even met a Chilena! The book club discussed One Italian Summer, by Rebecca Serle. Even though most of us found it to be fluffy and unsatisfying, I was so grateful to talk books with a bunch of smart women. The weekly hikes provide so much of what I’ve been craving: social interaction, nature, and group exercise. Here’s a shot of us at Pruitt Trail, which included a section on a levy created when Florida toyed with digging a barge canal connecting the Gulf of Mexico with the Atlantic Ocean. (Learn more about that here.)
Perusing the Parks and Rec list, I discovered more groups for people who share my interests: expat life, plant-based diet, meditation, ukulele, and all kinds of theatre. There are heaps of exercise classes, including mainstream options such as yoga, pilates, weight lifting, and cardio fitness, as well as kookier offerings like cardio drumming, hula hoop workout, dance party, and body groove. Yes, please!
What’s more, that Parks and Rec list reflects just a sliver of the lifestyle pie served up daily.
If you’ve seen the Netflix documentary about The Villages, you’re probably snickering at my enthusiasm. Yes, it’s a pretty darn homogenous community. Sure, I’m a blue dot in a dramatically red state. Yep, there is a LOT of partying among some of this crowd. As for the colored loofahs accenting the golf cart antennae, many Villagers have insisted to me that it’s just to help them find their vehicles in the parking lot. Still, the reputation persists, and some people like to play into it.
One lady posted this on Facebook with (a) the loofah guide that gets everyone’s blood pumping and (b) a more realistic guide.
I’ve seen my share of drunken revelry at the nightly outdoor concerts, but more often than that, I’ve encountered people with interesting life stories making the most of their golden years.
Since finding a moth infestation in our storage unit, I’ve had much less time for fun. The space is stuffed like a 3-D Tetris game with everything we had at our lake house in Michigan and at our apartment in Chile. I’m hoping to unpack enough to solve the moth problem and prepare for a garage sale next month.
When I’m not digging through boxes, I ride my bike about 12 miles each morning, take long walks, drive my 98-year-old neighbor to her appointments, hang out with my mom (who lives right down the street), and meet up with lovely locals. I know it’s too early to dream of retirement, but at least I know I’ll be good at it.
When I returned to the States last June, I felt pretty darn confident that my teaching days were over. I gave away my teaching materials. I unsubscribed from all the educational websites and bloggers that used to fill my email inbox. I stopped scrolling through twitter for new classroom ideas.
I leapt into the horse world with a dream of starting my own business. Since I last owned a horse a million years ago, the equine bodywork industry has exploded. Your horse is in pain? Here are some options: massage, acupuncture, acupressure, pulsed electromagnetic field therapy (PEMF), cold laser therapy, stretching, orthobionomy, myofascial release, kinesiology taping, electrical muscle stimulation … and more!
In my dream, I owned a cute little truck with some splashy promotional design on the side and all my fancy equipment in the back. I would drive around to farms, providing therapies for hurting horses.
This dream is not unique to me. In fact, the market is arguably saturated here in the “Horse Capital of the World,” and I’ve met several people doing what I had planned to do. It only took a couple of observations with such people to realize I’m just not up for the challenge.
Before you jump to my defense, I know I’m a smart and savvy risk-taker. It’s just that I’m also old and tired. OK, I’m not THAT old. But I’m old enough that the thought of starting over in a whole new career with a very steep learning curve and the potential for a massive debt load feels a bit overwhelming.
One of the bodywork practitioners I met admitted investing more than $40,000 in her equipment – for just one bodywork modality. She also explained that you have to get certified in each field of treatment, which would take years and more money. (One of my classmates said, “I know a girl who started this right out of high school. Her dad bought all the equipment for her graduation present.” Must be nice.)
Earlier this semester, Rachel Devick of Balanced Electromagnetic Therapy demonstrated PEMF and shared her stories of starting her own business. Daunting!
In addition to the price tag and the time required to achieve this dream, there’s no denying the need for a high level of scientific expertise. As I study the horse’s musculoskeletal system, including origin and insertion points of major muscles, acupressure meridians, and joint physiology, I am truly fascinated and often call friends and family members to share fun facts. However, there’s a niggling little voice in the back of my mind, pointing out, “You’d better understand how to apply all this science, or you’ll mess up someone’s horse!” That’s a lot of pressure.
Dr. Jillian Johnson, an equine and human chiropractor, demonstrated at one of my classes recently. So interesting! And intimidating.
I’ve had a few other epiphanies in the last few months: It took me 21 years to become an expert at teaching English as an Additional Language, and I like being an expert. Also, I still love learning about teaching EAL. Lately, I’ve been resubscribing to teaching websites and researching how to use the new AI tools with students. Moreover, I miss the international lifestyle, traveling to exotic locations, hanging out with people from all over the world, navigating a foreign language, and all the trappings of teaching abroad. Also, it’s no fun to be broke.
When the opportunity arose, I just couldn’t resist! We visited Thailand many times during our years in Asia. In fact, we used to ride our bikes to Thailand on the weekends when we lived in Laos. I’m feeling pretty psyched about moving back to that part of the world.
Tony works at another school way across the city, so we’ll continue to live apart. But at least we’ll be able to see each other on the weekends and enjoy phone calls without worrying about the time difference. (This could be the secret to a happy marriage!)
I can’t overstate how much this gap year has meant to me. I feel so lucky to have income from my rental house plus a little help from my Bangkok sugar daddy (em, I’m talking about Tony), which allowed me to take a break from real life. Still, I’m ready to jump back in.
In the meantime, I just finished all my final exams to earn an Associate’s Degree in Equine Studies from the College of Central Florida, and I’ve moved to our house in The Villages, Florida. Tony will arrive in mid-June for his summer break, and we’ll head to Thailand together at the end of July to kick off another adventure. Stay tuned for tales from the Land of Smiles.
For the last 21 years, I’ve been teaching overseas. My brother was in the Air Force, and then he also became an international teacher. Both my sisters married military guys, so they rarely stayed in one place for long. Finally, we’re all living in the States! You would think it would be easier to get together.
For the first time since Christmas, we all met up last weekend at Cumberland Falls State Resort Park in Kentucky. We had planned to camp, but the weather report looked bleak, so we opted for cabins instead (hallelujah!). When my mom canceled at the last minute after hearing about the grueling drive, I took her reservation at the lodge (even better!).
I rode with my sister, Megan, and her kids after driving six hours to get to her house. Turns out the trip to Cumberland Falls was nearly 12 hours! So painful. However, we had some good laughs and arrived to find the rest of the gang already settled in their cabins with food on the stove.
Remember road trips without electronics? View from the lodge.
We lucked out with a crisp, clear day for hiking. First, we walked down the path behind the cabins to reach the falls.
Two cuties, a waterfall, and a rainbow. Who could ask for more?The whole gang!
The nieces and nephews skittered around boulders and cliffs like little mountain goats as the Cumberland River roared below us. It’s possible we let them skitter a bit too much, and we’re lucky nobody plunged into the waterfall or got flattened by falling rocks. (There was a near tragedy, though … read on …)
Oops…Where’s Nico?Cousins xoTaking in the view.Can’t stop climbing!A round resting spot.Dripping rocks and sweet boys.
We spent a little time hanging out at this beach, where the kids collected garbage for a Scout merit badge. Unfortunately, there was plenty to collect as it gets carried downstream and deposited on these shores.
Playing at the beach.Chilling with the ladies.Back walkover!Garbage collectors.
After lunch, we hiked to Eagle Falls, which was hidden in a cove of massive boulders.
The kids climbed up behind the falls!Summer finding her zen.Nieces!
The second day was cloudy, and we were exhausted, but we managed to squeeze in one more hike. Later, we adults hung out around the campfire while the little people played in the woods.
Like a postcard!
More random shots from our visit …
The bookends are friends of my brother’s kids who were also visiting the park.
Tuesday morning, Megan and I took off with her kids and dog for the arduous trip home. As we zig-zagged through small towns and farmland across the southern states, Megan counted Dollar Generals using the voice of the Count from Sesame Street (“16 Dollar Generals! Bwah ha ha ha!”). She got up to 20 before we finally emerged from the countryside and got on a proper highway.
In the meantime, the rest of the family took a morning hike along the river. My brother’s dog, Lexi, wandered too close to the edge and fell in the icy river. Summer, thinking the splash had been one of the children, dove in and pulled Lexi to safety. This happened just upstream from the falls, where the rapid current could have easily swept them both away and given me a whole different angle for this blog post. Whew! Tragedy averted.
Summer and Lexi
I wish we could have had more time together, but as always, we made the most of it!
At EquiLightenment, education is part of the ethos. Whether you’re a horse, an intern, or an accomplished equestrian, you are likely to learn something new every day.
As an intern, my whole job is to learn. Working with Sharon and Jess, I continue to relish experiences that pop out of my textbooks and into real life. What I hadn’t expected was how often teachable moments arise throughout the day and how flexibly the two trainers drop everything to (a) teach me something, (b) teach a horse something, or (c) learn something new themselves.
For example, last Wednesday we brought Crescente and her 9-day-old baby, Tenebrus, in from the pasture and into their stall. As we admired them, Jess bent down to give the foal a little scratch, and he took a step toward her. “Hey, let’s just introduce the marker right now,” Sharon said.
It felt like a major milestone as Jess practiced positive reinforcement training on Tenebrus for the first time. She continued scratching his chest for a few seconds and then took a step back. As soon as Tenebrus started to move toward her, she made a clicking sound (the “marker”) and then gave him a scratch. The click acts as a bridge between the desired behavior (moving forward) and the reinforcer (a scratch on the chest).
Positive Reinforcement Training Kindergarten
A few days later, Sharon took a break during a very busy day for a short session with Tenebrus in the field. She introduced the concept of backing up on command, and she also presented a little halter to begin desensitizing him for future use.
During my days at the farm, Jess and I use a checklist to care for the horses. She frequently stops what she’s doing to teach me a new skill or concept, such as mixing feed for the horses, treating wounds, and targeting specific hoof care needs.
Me learning how to follow the feed chart with color-coded buckets.
Tenebrus and I are the newbies here, but Jess and Sharon are also eager learners. When equestrian coach Jon La Force visited the farm recently, both women raved about how much he taught them. It was inspiring to see Sharon in the arena, lunging her stallion, Ladino, as Jon kept up a steady stream of advice. She and Jess continue to refer to his training as they work with the horses, and it’s a refreshing reminder that no matter how much of an expert you are, there’s always something new to learn.
Sharon and Ladino during one of Jon’s lessons.
Another teachable moment happened the other day after Sharon demonstrated some training strategies with her colt, Romano. She had walked him to her trail course, a sort of playground with a variety of obstacles, where he practiced crossing a bridge, stepping up and down a steep slope, and keeping calm while moving through a gate. A guest at the farm and I watched as Sharon explained what she was doing. After putting Romano back in the pasture, we headed to the barn while discussing positive reinforcement training.
Romano learns not to freak out when tapped by the gate.
It was a casual chat until Sharon realized we had a misconception. She paused, leaned over to draw a Punnet square in the sand, and proceeded to use clear analogies to explain the four domains of operant conditioning: positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement, positive punishment, and negative punishment. I had learned this stuff in my Equine Behavior and Psychology class, but Sharon’s explanation was so much clearer. Her guest and I both felt enlightened.
About halfway through my internship, I feel grateful for teachable moments and the commitment to education that permeates this experience. What will I learn tomorrow? I can hardly wait to find out.
