As I have obviously not posted in a while and thoroughly missed the western holiday season, it seems somehow serendipitous that I should post again on Chinese New Year. Because much has happened since you've last hear from me and these can tend to drag on, I'll compress my holidays.
Christmas night was spent with a large group of farang friends at the top of the tallest building in Thailand. It was a truly impressive buffet with breathtaking views of the megalopolis that is Bangkok accompanied by stimulating conversation and plenty of laughs. If only they'd have some damn mashed potatoes and gravy! Obviously being away from friends and family was a change, but then much of this experience has been.
New Year's Eve I went to Central World (a giant shopping complex with several beer gardens bordering it) with some Thai friends. Basically, it's the Thai equivalent of Times Square. Once there, we met up with some of the farangs that I went through TEFL with. Beer flowed, there were several stages with bands, people counted down, and then people set off a tremendous pyrotechnic display.
I was off for a few days and left the city to revisit Ayuttya. I had a great time with my friends there, including some more fantastic food at Daang-moh's mother's restaurant. Having that little escape from the city a mere hour train ride away is great.
Following the break, I settled back into the teaching routine. Then, two weeks ago, I got a mild cold. My school was closed Thursday and Friday of that week. Friday was teacher's day, so the schools around the country were slated to be closed and the Thai faculty at my school opted to take the opportunity to close Thursday as well.They all went to Chiang Mai. There was no invitation extended to the farang teachers. In fact, we weren't officially informed of any of the closures until Monday of that week. The total avoidance of communication on the part of my department head continues to frustrated me.
Waking up completely drained and feeling miserable, I rested on Thursday and Friday. (Though I still managed to drag myself to my Thursday night class.) As I felt restored by Saturday, I caught a midday bus to Kantanaburi. It's about an hour city bus ride to the bus station, and then three hours from there. Buses travel between Bangkok and Kantanaburi regularly, leaving every half hour. Total transportation costs round trip: $10. You've gotta love that.
If you're wondering, why should I care about Kantanaburi?, let me tell you. It's where the bridge over the River Kwai is. Yes, that bridge. Oh, and by the way, the British bombed it. I know that's not how it was in the movie, but they apparently couldn't get British actors so they modified the script. That's the theory I'm working with.
There's a river. There's a bridge. I walked across it.
I absolutely love the fact that there is no safety measure at all. It's a working railroad track covered with people looking around, taking pictures, and generally not paying attention. Add to that the fact that there is no 'walking' area (read flat surface), and I'm sure that I'm not the only person who's had a precarious misstep as a flock of Japanese ambled past me. Praise be to my 'adventure sandals' for saving me from the hundred foot drop into the river.
Having rented a motorbike, I returned to my bungalow on the river and watched the sunset while I read in a hammock. A massage and dinner at a more than descent Indian restaurant rounded out the evening. The next day was spent exploring the surrounding countryside. I was not actually prepared for the amount of outdoor sites and activities available there. I spent the better part of the day driving around and exploring. It could easily have occupied me for another couple of days, and it is likely that in the future it shall. I returned to Bangkok that night.
Unfortunately, Kantanaburi was, pardon my French, fucking cold at night. Even more unfortunately, my bungalow came equipped with what I can only describe as beach towel to use as a blanket. So between the lack of sleep, the night in the cold, and the sunburn I managed to acquire while driving around all day, my illness came back with a vengeance.
I have heard from others here that a mild cold that one would recover from quickly in one's homeland can drag on. That is a fact that I will attest to. I was a wreck last week. I didn't properly follow the scientific method to verify my hypothesis, but I postulate that a liter of mucus continued an evasive migration from my sinuses to my lungs and back again. It seems to have eventually settled in my lungs, which means that I don't have a throbbing headache anymore. The racking cough seems to be finally managing to evict the last occupants and I am hopeful that my cocktail recipe of two parts antibiotics to three parts cough syrup muddled with a generous sprinkling of cough drops will fortify me soon enough.
As mentioned above, today is the Chinese New Year. Join me in welcoming in the year of ox. (In case anyone was wondering, I'm a rooster.) I don't know exactly what this means yet, but I'm going to look into it more in the coming days. I do know at this point that the Chinese calender is a lunar/solar calendar that's been used for over four millennium. That's a lot of human knowledge brought to bear on astrology and astronomy.
Yaowalat is the main street that runs through Chinatown here in Bangkok and I headed there after school today. Honestly, I was a little disappointed, but it was fun regardless. I didn't see a parade or anything, and it was more subdued than I had imagined it to be. I did follow some Chinese dragons and a drum/symbol trio for a while. I think I also managed to get some adorable shots of children though I'll be going through my photos at a later time. The food in Chinatown was, as always, delicious.
On a side note, I have managed to read some fantastic books lately. Haruki Murakami is still a genius. I will be reading more Cormac McCarthy in the future. I also really enjoyed Letters From Thailand. If you have some time and are a reader, try to track it down. This was kind of a fun read as well.
Once again, this has managed to eat a considerable chunk of time, and I am hungry. It is also late, so I must venture from my dwelling in search of comestibles. Once sated, I shall slumber until I must wake on the morrow. Please forgive my literary transgression. I so rarely get to manipulate the English language, in conversation, and Thai is so structurally simple, that occasionally I positively yearn to be verbose. An intoxicating excess of vocabulary.......
1.26.2009
12.25.2008
Kuey bai Laos lai Ayutthya.
I have officially been to Laos. Last Thursday night (the 18th of December) after my evening class, I boarded an overnight train from Bangkok to Nong Kai. On the train, I sat across from a wonderful Thai woman who was going to visit her mother. Soon, however, a young man from San Francisco traveling on holiday engaged me. After a long conversation and many beers in the dining car, I retired to my upper bunk.
Following an early morning arrival in Nong Kai, we headed to the boarder. Four hours later, I was standing in Laos, 1500 Baht poorer, but one visa richer. We managed to get a Tuk-Tuk into the capital city, Vientiane.
I met up with my French friend, Serge, and he helped me find accommodations. An invitation to a party that evening at the French Cultural Center set my plans but left me plenty of time to explore. I must say that Vientiane is a beautiful city. It is what one imagines when conjuring images of the French settling in Southeast Asia: wide boulevards, colonial architecture, and restrained sensibilities. While not a small city in its own right, compared to the sprawling, congested urbanity of Bangkok, it seems downright quaint. A peaceful calm pervades. Sitting at a quiet outdoor cafe, sipping cappuccino and eating quiche was not just unexpected, but nearly unimaginable the day before.
I wandered around on foot, which is not very difficult given its small, well-laid out city heart. After eating a delicious sandwich of pork pate with radish, cilantro, and chili on French bread, I made my way to the banks of the Mekong River. Watching the sun set through the banana leaves and looking at the far bank, seeing Thailand, was tremendously relaxing.
There are, in fact, many French people living there. The influence is impossible to overlook. French bistros abound, and heavily accented English wafts through the air as readily as the smell of milk being steamed.
Communication with the Laotians living there was very easy; most spoke not only the languages of Thailand and Laos, but also English and French. The Thai and Laotian languages are very similar, but do have many differences. This ensured that I would expend about zero effort to learn it. Everyone was also extremely gracious and eager to talk with me.
Frustratingly, the Laotian monetary unit, the Kip, is tremendously confusing. One Thai Baht is worth about 250 Kip. As you can imagine, the amount of Kip required to do simple commerce is immense. My sandwich cost 5000 Kip. This would be complicated enough, but the denominations looks nearly identical, with hard to identify values. They also come in odd sizes: the nearly worthless 500 Kip note, 1000, 2000, 5000, 10,000, and finally, the 50,000 Kip note.
It was slightly unnerving at first to attend the party at the French Cultural Center, realizing quickly that it was a fairly small community, and that Serge was not actually all that involved with the center. After some conversational dead-ends (isn't that often the way with French people?) I managed to make some interesting friends. One was a very impressive young Laos man who is leaving to study in Paris soon. He speaks English nearly fluently, along with French, Thai, and of course Laos. There was also the very sweet French woman who will be moving to Cambodia at the end of next month, and a group of Australians, some residing, some visiting.
Roxana (the French one) took me for phu in the wee hours of the morning. Phu is like the ubiquitous noodle dish of Thailand, kuay te-ow, but offers slightly different noodles, along with tomatoes and sometimes cabbage. Not as flavorful, it does not offer a true broth, but rather moistens the dish with the liquid used to cook the ingredients a la minute.
The next morning, I rented a 250cc motorcycle and began my journey north towards Vong Vienne. Driving through the changing countryside was an exhilarating experience. From the flat rice paddies of southern Laos into the mountains nearing my destination I drove. Stopping to take pictures, refuel the bike and myself, and seeing what was available in the small towns along the way was an adventure unto itself. And that's not even mentioning the thrill of the ride, increased exponentially as I entered the winding mountain passes.
Tremendously hot at the outset, as I increased altitude and the sun began to dip lower, the temperature dropped dramatically. By the time I reached Vong Vienne, just after sunset, it was decidedly cold. Wishing that I had brought some sort of fleece to compliment my light windbreaker was a good learning experience.
By the time I arrived, it was past dark, so I missed seeing the mountains surrounding it. Taking care of my immediate necessities I found a guesthouse for 20,000 Kip (about $8 U.S.) and went off in search of food. Unfortunately, Vong Vienne is not a great town in my opinion. Partying college students, drugged up backpackers, and generally ignorant travelers have overrun it. The identity of what was probably once a beautiful haven in the mountains has been replaced by one where finding traditional food is the exception, not the norm. Familial establishments can't compete with the many restaurants selling buckets of booze and showing 'Friend's on televisions mounted around the pool tables.
I found perhaps the only restaurant in my area that actually had some Laotian people in it and sat down. A group of farang beckoned me over, and luckily, they were likeminded. We had an enjoyable meal together, exchanging life information, and generally lamenting the state of the town. My guesthouse was quiet and I managed to sleep soundly if not for an extended length of time.
Intending to get started so that I would have plenty of time to stop along the way, I woke up early. Apparently the best laid plans of mice and men can be thwarted by a dead battery. The motorcycle would not start. Unfortunately, because of the early hour, I had to wait for the mechanic to open his doors before I could swap the battery out. That done, and the spark plug drained, I was once again on my way.
The 150-km return trip to Vientiane was actually a lot of fun. Mostly downhill, there was no traffic, and the sun hadn’t risen to its blazing pinnacle. I returned the motorcycle, though, of course not without an embarrassing attempt to drive it up and over a curb (in the center of Vientiane mind you). It seemed like a good idea to try taking a bus across the boarder so I found the station and got a ticket with 15 minutes before it left. This time going through customs went much more smoothly and I was in Nong Kai with plenty of time to spare.
My sense of relief at being again surrounded by something closer to what I have grown accustomed to was surprising. A medium sized boarder city, it has plenty to offer. From shopping and eating to visiting wats, I could easily spend two days here. Seeing the cuisine of Isaan collide with the traditional Laotian cuisine was interesting. Here was the Kuay Te-ow that I was familiar with, but seasoned with shrimp paste and a different chili blend. First things first though, I changed money and bought a kaa-fee buulon yen within two minutes of having Baht in hand. A dense, dark coffee left to steep for time unknown is mixed with sweetened condensed milk and canned milk, then poured over ice. It’s heavenly.
On the train, I made friends with a pair of Thai gentlemen. They live in Ayuttya, the previous capital of Thailand. It lies about 70 kilometers north of Bangkok. One of the gentlemen was a professor at the University, and he spoke English fairly well. The other, a jolly fat man, sells antiques there and owns another store in Luaprabong, Laos. Daang Moh (Watermelon) speaks virtually no English, but between my Thai and his friend's translations, we were all having a great time. The beer and whiskey may have helped a little too.
As the dining car closed, Daang Moh invited me to come to Ayuttya. He wanted to show me around the city. Of course seeing as that was a good four hours away, it seemed like a brilliant idea, and I readily agreed. Returning to my bunk, I made certain to set my alarm.
While the train was running an hour behind schedule, I had no way of knowing this, and was constantly getting up to try to ascertain our position. Needless to say, it wasn't the best night's sleep ever. Finally, at 5:00 a.m., the train arrived at Ayuttya, and I stumbled off. I was greatly relieved to find my new friends on the platform waiting for me. We secured a Tuk-Tuk to take Suchart home and Daang Moh and myself to his antique store.
Daang Moh's store is rather impressive, and he is obviously tremendously proud of what he has. Artifacts and pieces range from the commonplace to truly ornate religious pieces several hundred years old, and hail from all over Thailand and Laos. He showed me many things and with the help of a book, introduced me to the different periods of art and culture in the Chang Mai region.
We also discussed the new house he has just completed in Luaprabong. He had many architectural books showcasing styles throughout the region and years. Of course the invitation to accompany him to see his home was extended, and I look forward to having the opportunity to take him up on the offer.
We ate breakfast at his mother's restaurant. Truly, the adage about a fat man delivering you to great food can be true. His mother is a fantastic cook. It is a fun little restaurant overlooking the Chao Praya River as it runs through Ayuttya, making the central area an island.
As the main attractions to visiting tourists are the temple ruins, he made certain that I was properly introduced to those. Obviously a once thriving center of wealth and prestige, the city is strewn with the remnants a flourishing and expansive civilization. Founded in 1350, it was one of the most populous cities in the world when it was destroyed by the Burmese army in 1767.
Making sure that I wanted for nothing in the way of hospitality, he took me to his favorite massage parlor, and we had some amazing Thai massages. Thai massages are great. They are much more interactive than western massages with more personal movement. Twisting, turning, and a slight amount of pain all lead to deep tissue work and a great feeling at the end of it all. Because they are such a big part of the culture, parlors are everywhere and very cheap.
Refreshed, it was time to eat again. That evening one of Daang Moh's friends met us and we went to a large open-air restaurant serving food from Isaan (the northeast region of Thailand). Daang Moh's friend, Jason, speaks English pretty well, so that eased some of the pressure of communication. The food was delicious, and I was introduced to some new things including deep-fried chicken knee cartilage (not unpleasantly chewy) with a pickled onion slaw and shredded, fried catfish. Whisky, beer, and ribald conversation solidified the new friendships.
As night had long since fallen and the day had been more than full, they accompanied me to the train station and we bid our farewells. 15 Baht to get back to my home station really can't be beat. After stopping to say hello to my neighborhood friends, I returned home, weary but satisfied with my trip.
P.S.I had planned on including my Christmas celebration in this post, but am finding that to be unlikely. It's late, and I must work tomorrow. That, I'm afraid will have to wait for a bit. Good night, and Happy Holidays to one and all.
Following an early morning arrival in Nong Kai, we headed to the boarder. Four hours later, I was standing in Laos, 1500 Baht poorer, but one visa richer. We managed to get a Tuk-Tuk into the capital city, Vientiane.
I met up with my French friend, Serge, and he helped me find accommodations. An invitation to a party that evening at the French Cultural Center set my plans but left me plenty of time to explore. I must say that Vientiane is a beautiful city. It is what one imagines when conjuring images of the French settling in Southeast Asia: wide boulevards, colonial architecture, and restrained sensibilities. While not a small city in its own right, compared to the sprawling, congested urbanity of Bangkok, it seems downright quaint. A peaceful calm pervades. Sitting at a quiet outdoor cafe, sipping cappuccino and eating quiche was not just unexpected, but nearly unimaginable the day before.
I wandered around on foot, which is not very difficult given its small, well-laid out city heart. After eating a delicious sandwich of pork pate with radish, cilantro, and chili on French bread, I made my way to the banks of the Mekong River. Watching the sun set through the banana leaves and looking at the far bank, seeing Thailand, was tremendously relaxing.
There are, in fact, many French people living there. The influence is impossible to overlook. French bistros abound, and heavily accented English wafts through the air as readily as the smell of milk being steamed.
Communication with the Laotians living there was very easy; most spoke not only the languages of Thailand and Laos, but also English and French. The Thai and Laotian languages are very similar, but do have many differences. This ensured that I would expend about zero effort to learn it. Everyone was also extremely gracious and eager to talk with me.
Frustratingly, the Laotian monetary unit, the Kip, is tremendously confusing. One Thai Baht is worth about 250 Kip. As you can imagine, the amount of Kip required to do simple commerce is immense. My sandwich cost 5000 Kip. This would be complicated enough, but the denominations looks nearly identical, with hard to identify values. They also come in odd sizes: the nearly worthless 500 Kip note, 1000, 2000, 5000, 10,000, and finally, the 50,000 Kip note.
It was slightly unnerving at first to attend the party at the French Cultural Center, realizing quickly that it was a fairly small community, and that Serge was not actually all that involved with the center. After some conversational dead-ends (isn't that often the way with French people?) I managed to make some interesting friends. One was a very impressive young Laos man who is leaving to study in Paris soon. He speaks English nearly fluently, along with French, Thai, and of course Laos. There was also the very sweet French woman who will be moving to Cambodia at the end of next month, and a group of Australians, some residing, some visiting.
Roxana (the French one) took me for phu in the wee hours of the morning. Phu is like the ubiquitous noodle dish of Thailand, kuay te-ow, but offers slightly different noodles, along with tomatoes and sometimes cabbage. Not as flavorful, it does not offer a true broth, but rather moistens the dish with the liquid used to cook the ingredients a la minute.
The next morning, I rented a 250cc motorcycle and began my journey north towards Vong Vienne. Driving through the changing countryside was an exhilarating experience. From the flat rice paddies of southern Laos into the mountains nearing my destination I drove. Stopping to take pictures, refuel the bike and myself, and seeing what was available in the small towns along the way was an adventure unto itself. And that's not even mentioning the thrill of the ride, increased exponentially as I entered the winding mountain passes.
Tremendously hot at the outset, as I increased altitude and the sun began to dip lower, the temperature dropped dramatically. By the time I reached Vong Vienne, just after sunset, it was decidedly cold. Wishing that I had brought some sort of fleece to compliment my light windbreaker was a good learning experience.
By the time I arrived, it was past dark, so I missed seeing the mountains surrounding it. Taking care of my immediate necessities I found a guesthouse for 20,000 Kip (about $8 U.S.) and went off in search of food. Unfortunately, Vong Vienne is not a great town in my opinion. Partying college students, drugged up backpackers, and generally ignorant travelers have overrun it. The identity of what was probably once a beautiful haven in the mountains has been replaced by one where finding traditional food is the exception, not the norm. Familial establishments can't compete with the many restaurants selling buckets of booze and showing 'Friend's on televisions mounted around the pool tables.
I found perhaps the only restaurant in my area that actually had some Laotian people in it and sat down. A group of farang beckoned me over, and luckily, they were likeminded. We had an enjoyable meal together, exchanging life information, and generally lamenting the state of the town. My guesthouse was quiet and I managed to sleep soundly if not for an extended length of time.
Intending to get started so that I would have plenty of time to stop along the way, I woke up early. Apparently the best laid plans of mice and men can be thwarted by a dead battery. The motorcycle would not start. Unfortunately, because of the early hour, I had to wait for the mechanic to open his doors before I could swap the battery out. That done, and the spark plug drained, I was once again on my way.
The 150-km return trip to Vientiane was actually a lot of fun. Mostly downhill, there was no traffic, and the sun hadn’t risen to its blazing pinnacle. I returned the motorcycle, though, of course not without an embarrassing attempt to drive it up and over a curb (in the center of Vientiane mind you). It seemed like a good idea to try taking a bus across the boarder so I found the station and got a ticket with 15 minutes before it left. This time going through customs went much more smoothly and I was in Nong Kai with plenty of time to spare.
My sense of relief at being again surrounded by something closer to what I have grown accustomed to was surprising. A medium sized boarder city, it has plenty to offer. From shopping and eating to visiting wats, I could easily spend two days here. Seeing the cuisine of Isaan collide with the traditional Laotian cuisine was interesting. Here was the Kuay Te-ow that I was familiar with, but seasoned with shrimp paste and a different chili blend. First things first though, I changed money and bought a kaa-fee buulon yen within two minutes of having Baht in hand. A dense, dark coffee left to steep for time unknown is mixed with sweetened condensed milk and canned milk, then poured over ice. It’s heavenly.
On the train, I made friends with a pair of Thai gentlemen. They live in Ayuttya, the previous capital of Thailand. It lies about 70 kilometers north of Bangkok. One of the gentlemen was a professor at the University, and he spoke English fairly well. The other, a jolly fat man, sells antiques there and owns another store in Luaprabong, Laos. Daang Moh (Watermelon) speaks virtually no English, but between my Thai and his friend's translations, we were all having a great time. The beer and whiskey may have helped a little too.
As the dining car closed, Daang Moh invited me to come to Ayuttya. He wanted to show me around the city. Of course seeing as that was a good four hours away, it seemed like a brilliant idea, and I readily agreed. Returning to my bunk, I made certain to set my alarm.
While the train was running an hour behind schedule, I had no way of knowing this, and was constantly getting up to try to ascertain our position. Needless to say, it wasn't the best night's sleep ever. Finally, at 5:00 a.m., the train arrived at Ayuttya, and I stumbled off. I was greatly relieved to find my new friends on the platform waiting for me. We secured a Tuk-Tuk to take Suchart home and Daang Moh and myself to his antique store.
Daang Moh's store is rather impressive, and he is obviously tremendously proud of what he has. Artifacts and pieces range from the commonplace to truly ornate religious pieces several hundred years old, and hail from all over Thailand and Laos. He showed me many things and with the help of a book, introduced me to the different periods of art and culture in the Chang Mai region.
We also discussed the new house he has just completed in Luaprabong. He had many architectural books showcasing styles throughout the region and years. Of course the invitation to accompany him to see his home was extended, and I look forward to having the opportunity to take him up on the offer.
We ate breakfast at his mother's restaurant. Truly, the adage about a fat man delivering you to great food can be true. His mother is a fantastic cook. It is a fun little restaurant overlooking the Chao Praya River as it runs through Ayuttya, making the central area an island.
As the main attractions to visiting tourists are the temple ruins, he made certain that I was properly introduced to those. Obviously a once thriving center of wealth and prestige, the city is strewn with the remnants a flourishing and expansive civilization. Founded in 1350, it was one of the most populous cities in the world when it was destroyed by the Burmese army in 1767.
Making sure that I wanted for nothing in the way of hospitality, he took me to his favorite massage parlor, and we had some amazing Thai massages. Thai massages are great. They are much more interactive than western massages with more personal movement. Twisting, turning, and a slight amount of pain all lead to deep tissue work and a great feeling at the end of it all. Because they are such a big part of the culture, parlors are everywhere and very cheap.
Refreshed, it was time to eat again. That evening one of Daang Moh's friends met us and we went to a large open-air restaurant serving food from Isaan (the northeast region of Thailand). Daang Moh's friend, Jason, speaks English pretty well, so that eased some of the pressure of communication. The food was delicious, and I was introduced to some new things including deep-fried chicken knee cartilage (not unpleasantly chewy) with a pickled onion slaw and shredded, fried catfish. Whisky, beer, and ribald conversation solidified the new friendships.
As night had long since fallen and the day had been more than full, they accompanied me to the train station and we bid our farewells. 15 Baht to get back to my home station really can't be beat. After stopping to say hello to my neighborhood friends, I returned home, weary but satisfied with my trip.
P.S.I had planned on including my Christmas celebration in this post, but am finding that to be unlikely. It's late, and I must work tomorrow. That, I'm afraid will have to wait for a bit. Good night, and Happy Holidays to one and all.
12.13.2008
Thanksgiving, king kong, laa Laos
Thanksgiving has come and gone in the United States. I have taken on a teaching job Tuesday and Thursday evenings, so I was supposed to work that night. My class, however, was canceled that evening, but not before I had traveled to Siam Center. Since this is the hub of the shopping district, with four mega malls in close proximity, I opted to indulge in a Whopper as my celebratory meal, followed by my first movie here in Thailand. The Burger King experience was not quite the same as being home for the holiday, but it did provide a note of familiarity.
My evening class has been going well. I am teaching 14 adults who work at the University bookstore. Unfortunately, the classes are relegated to a shoebox-sized room dominated by a conference table. There are really no opportunities for student movement and interaction amongst themselves is limited because of this. This seriously hampers the effectiveness of our time together. Despite this, I think that they are getting something out of the experience. I find that playfulness and minimal traditional teaching is what is really wanted from me.
They are a fun group, and we have started to come together as a class. While I certainly don't think I'll be friends with any of them in the near future, it has been a valuable experience. Seeing adult Thais who have a desire to learn English in a group setting is very different from my cobbled together English language experiences with individuals. Seeing the group dynamic change from shy and reserved to comfortable and outgoing his been rewarding, and I am less of an outsider now. The level of the English that the group has is generally low, but together they can communicate quite effectively. Again, their ability to read far suppases their ability to speak and listen to the language. Mostly, we do things that are immediately applicable to their jobs, but general conversation skills are also very important.
This job has also exposed me more to Siam Center. Being in that area of the city is so vastly different from anywhere else. It could be any major shopping mall in any county in the world. They affluence and posturing are pervasive. Salvatore Ferragamo, Christian Dior, and Mazerati all have shops in Siam Paragon. It seems MBK offers whatever necessity you could possibly imagine. Outdoor sitting areas with intricate fountains, young Thais eating McDonalds and licking DQ cones, and beautiful architecture make it easy to forget that this is an emerging country.
They sky train that offers a backdrop to this scene can't be afforded by the majority of people in the city. And while many of these Thais spend hours a week here, that is all most are doing, spending time. An actual shopping excursion is a very special affair. Much of this is a facade, a service offered to entice the farang. Here it succeeds. Everywhere one looks at these malls are farang scooping up the commodities, cheap by their standards. Jewelry for bargain prices, designer dress shirts for $20, even the largest aquarium in South East Asia can be seen for $7.
Right around Thanksgiving, a royalist group took control of the two International Airports in Bangkok. They held control for 10 days, until they achieved their goal of having the appointed Prime Minister removed from power. This action stranded an estimated half million visiting tourists, and effectively shut down much of Thailand's economy. The orchid industry alone lost $10 million dollars a day through its inability to export. The tourism industry, which affects every level of the economy here is expected to feel repurcusions for years to come. They are estimating a loss of 4.5 billion dollars next year just in tourist spending.
These demonstrations were not a direct threat to farang and from an outsider's perspective, daily life continues with nary a change. There was violence, however, with grenade explosions killing 3 and injuring dozens. The colors of red and yellow have taken on an all encompassing affiliation with the two opposing factions. While it is rarely openly discussed with me, that does not hide the tension simmering beneath the surface.
And to be sure, it is a tense time for Thailand. What hangs in the balance is a huge step away from democracy. The PAD (People's Alliance for Democracy) has succeeded in removing three appointed Prime Ministers chosen by the popularly elected PPP (People's Populist Party) over the last three years. The most common name to hear when discussing this issue is that of Taksin, the exiled former Prime Minister who attempted to privatize many of the nation's infrastructure services. While corruption is rampant in both parties, it is the wish of the PAD to remove voting power from the lower class and impoversed country populous. They desire a return to a royally selected, wealthy ruling class.
Their support seems to have waned slightly do the events at the airport, but elections will be held in Parliament this Monday. There are reports that they may have enough support this time to appoint someone more to their liking, and are already threatening similar guerilla tactics if that does not happen. I, along with my host country, anxiously await the outcome of this new election.
The King of Thailand is the longest serving Monarch in the world. His birthday last Friday is a joyous affair for the country. Perhaps tellingly, he did not address the nation on Thursday, reportedly due to illness. This is the first time in history that he has failed to make that address. The Economist has been covering this with its own opinions, some of which have caused the magazine to have its distribution here suspended following a pair of articles (article1, article2). There will be a rebuttal issued this week by the Thai Foreign Ministry.
I continue to apply myself to learning the language. To this end, I went to the weekend market last weekend and found some childrens' books and a very good English-Thai,Thai-English dictionary. Honestly, I have yet to truly invest myself in any of them. Every weekend, however, I spend several hours a day teaching my friend English and working on my Thai. Last Friday, she invited me to join a group of friends for lunch. We had a hot-pot meal at a local shopping center, peppered with language lessons and laughs. The most interesting Thai word I was already familiar with: king kong means gorilla. I have been unable to definitively track down the etymology of the phrase/word, so if anyone can help, I'd appreciate it. Idle curiosity I guess...
On a purely fact finding mission (OK, that's not quite true), I went to see the movie Ong Bok 2. If you're unfamiliar with the original Ong Bok, rest assured that it's a fine piece of cinema. This seemingly had absolutely nothing to do with the first, sharing only the star, but Tony Jaa again delivered. Muai Thai inspired fight coreography, brilliant weapons work, amazing stunts, and a plot that was at least cohesive made this a thouroughly enjoyable experience. Honestly one of the most intense martial arts movies I've seen in a very long time. I just wished they would have called it "The Next Movie That Tony Jaa Absolutely Kicks Ass and Does Amazing Stuff In" to avoid confusion.
I am also looking forward to visiting Laos this coming weekend. While I have a year visa, I must leave the country every three months to keep it active. This also affords me the opportunity to take a break from the city, which can be taxing. I will board a train on Thursday after my night class. It will travel north from the city to Nong Kai, the Thai boarder city. It will take about 10 hours. My return trip begins on Sunday night. I hope that the ride affords me the opportunity to see some of the Issarn countryside.
Upon arrival in Nong Kai, I will take a bus to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. This is very near to Nong Kai. In a pleasant turn of events, I had met a French man who works for an NGO in Laos a few weeks ago. He lived in Vietnam for seven years and has lived in Laos for the past two. He asked me a question on the ferry as I headed back home after work, and we struck up a conversation. I will be meeting him on Friday upon my arrival, and he is finding a hotel for my first night. I might rent a motorbike and leave the city on Saturday, but I have no definite plans.
This adventure has me excited and nervous again. It offers a million small new things, in an unfamiliar land. A second class sleeper on a Thai train, a trip over a boarder on the ground, and a new stamp in my passport, just to name a few.
My evening class has been going well. I am teaching 14 adults who work at the University bookstore. Unfortunately, the classes are relegated to a shoebox-sized room dominated by a conference table. There are really no opportunities for student movement and interaction amongst themselves is limited because of this. This seriously hampers the effectiveness of our time together. Despite this, I think that they are getting something out of the experience. I find that playfulness and minimal traditional teaching is what is really wanted from me.
They are a fun group, and we have started to come together as a class. While I certainly don't think I'll be friends with any of them in the near future, it has been a valuable experience. Seeing adult Thais who have a desire to learn English in a group setting is very different from my cobbled together English language experiences with individuals. Seeing the group dynamic change from shy and reserved to comfortable and outgoing his been rewarding, and I am less of an outsider now. The level of the English that the group has is generally low, but together they can communicate quite effectively. Again, their ability to read far suppases their ability to speak and listen to the language. Mostly, we do things that are immediately applicable to their jobs, but general conversation skills are also very important.
This job has also exposed me more to Siam Center. Being in that area of the city is so vastly different from anywhere else. It could be any major shopping mall in any county in the world. They affluence and posturing are pervasive. Salvatore Ferragamo, Christian Dior, and Mazerati all have shops in Siam Paragon. It seems MBK offers whatever necessity you could possibly imagine. Outdoor sitting areas with intricate fountains, young Thais eating McDonalds and licking DQ cones, and beautiful architecture make it easy to forget that this is an emerging country.
They sky train that offers a backdrop to this scene can't be afforded by the majority of people in the city. And while many of these Thais spend hours a week here, that is all most are doing, spending time. An actual shopping excursion is a very special affair. Much of this is a facade, a service offered to entice the farang. Here it succeeds. Everywhere one looks at these malls are farang scooping up the commodities, cheap by their standards. Jewelry for bargain prices, designer dress shirts for $20, even the largest aquarium in South East Asia can be seen for $7.
Right around Thanksgiving, a royalist group took control of the two International Airports in Bangkok. They held control for 10 days, until they achieved their goal of having the appointed Prime Minister removed from power. This action stranded an estimated half million visiting tourists, and effectively shut down much of Thailand's economy. The orchid industry alone lost $10 million dollars a day through its inability to export. The tourism industry, which affects every level of the economy here is expected to feel repurcusions for years to come. They are estimating a loss of 4.5 billion dollars next year just in tourist spending.
These demonstrations were not a direct threat to farang and from an outsider's perspective, daily life continues with nary a change. There was violence, however, with grenade explosions killing 3 and injuring dozens. The colors of red and yellow have taken on an all encompassing affiliation with the two opposing factions. While it is rarely openly discussed with me, that does not hide the tension simmering beneath the surface.
And to be sure, it is a tense time for Thailand. What hangs in the balance is a huge step away from democracy. The PAD (People's Alliance for Democracy) has succeeded in removing three appointed Prime Ministers chosen by the popularly elected PPP (People's Populist Party) over the last three years. The most common name to hear when discussing this issue is that of Taksin, the exiled former Prime Minister who attempted to privatize many of the nation's infrastructure services. While corruption is rampant in both parties, it is the wish of the PAD to remove voting power from the lower class and impoversed country populous. They desire a return to a royally selected, wealthy ruling class.
Their support seems to have waned slightly do the events at the airport, but elections will be held in Parliament this Monday. There are reports that they may have enough support this time to appoint someone more to their liking, and are already threatening similar guerilla tactics if that does not happen. I, along with my host country, anxiously await the outcome of this new election.
The King of Thailand is the longest serving Monarch in the world. His birthday last Friday is a joyous affair for the country. Perhaps tellingly, he did not address the nation on Thursday, reportedly due to illness. This is the first time in history that he has failed to make that address. The Economist has been covering this with its own opinions, some of which have caused the magazine to have its distribution here suspended following a pair of articles (article1, article2). There will be a rebuttal issued this week by the Thai Foreign Ministry.
I continue to apply myself to learning the language. To this end, I went to the weekend market last weekend and found some childrens' books and a very good English-Thai,Thai-English dictionary. Honestly, I have yet to truly invest myself in any of them. Every weekend, however, I spend several hours a day teaching my friend English and working on my Thai. Last Friday, she invited me to join a group of friends for lunch. We had a hot-pot meal at a local shopping center, peppered with language lessons and laughs. The most interesting Thai word I was already familiar with: king kong means gorilla. I have been unable to definitively track down the etymology of the phrase/word, so if anyone can help, I'd appreciate it. Idle curiosity I guess...
On a purely fact finding mission (OK, that's not quite true), I went to see the movie Ong Bok 2. If you're unfamiliar with the original Ong Bok, rest assured that it's a fine piece of cinema. This seemingly had absolutely nothing to do with the first, sharing only the star, but Tony Jaa again delivered. Muai Thai inspired fight coreography, brilliant weapons work, amazing stunts, and a plot that was at least cohesive made this a thouroughly enjoyable experience. Honestly one of the most intense martial arts movies I've seen in a very long time. I just wished they would have called it "The Next Movie That Tony Jaa Absolutely Kicks Ass and Does Amazing Stuff In" to avoid confusion.
I am also looking forward to visiting Laos this coming weekend. While I have a year visa, I must leave the country every three months to keep it active. This also affords me the opportunity to take a break from the city, which can be taxing. I will board a train on Thursday after my night class. It will travel north from the city to Nong Kai, the Thai boarder city. It will take about 10 hours. My return trip begins on Sunday night. I hope that the ride affords me the opportunity to see some of the Issarn countryside.
Upon arrival in Nong Kai, I will take a bus to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. This is very near to Nong Kai. In a pleasant turn of events, I had met a French man who works for an NGO in Laos a few weeks ago. He lived in Vietnam for seven years and has lived in Laos for the past two. He asked me a question on the ferry as I headed back home after work, and we struck up a conversation. I will be meeting him on Friday upon my arrival, and he is finding a hotel for my first night. I might rent a motorbike and leave the city on Saturday, but I have no definite plans.
This adventure has me excited and nervous again. It offers a million small new things, in an unfamiliar land. A second class sleeper on a Thai train, a trip over a boarder on the ground, and a new stamp in my passport, just to name a few.
11.16.2008
Mahk ruk Thai
A light rain falls steadily outside, and inside, Modest Mouse issues from my computer. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon here. I have a little work to do for school tomorrow, but that shouldn't take long. It's more general organization than anything else. This evening I will head south on the river to join some new friends in playing and watching Thai chess.
Last Sunday, after book shopping near Kao San, I wandered aimlessly in search of Indian food. I found much to take pictures of, and stumbled upon a beautiful little park. Seeing the entrance to a flower market, I decided to explore and came across a group of men in the midst of a warehouse shopping center playing a game. I stopped to watch, and someone offered me a chair. It seemed to be something like chess, and for the most part, I was able to pick up on the rules from watching. When the game ended, I clarified the points I was unclear of, and they immediately threw me into the game.
At some point, they started opening big beers. These they poured into a small plastic mug filled with ice. It was passed around and topped up as necessary. Alternating between playing and watching, I can say that I understand the game fairly well. The difficulty comes in my affinity for the chess that I'm familiar with and the change in strategy required for this version.
In Thai chess, the Rooks and Knights move the same. Pawns also move the same, but the entire line starts the game one row forward. All other pieces move only space at a time. There is one 'Bishop.' In place of the Queen, there are two pieces that can move in any direction forward, but only on the diagonal backward. They can never move sideways or straight back. Once the Pawns cross the third row threshold on the opponents side, they are flipped over and become 'Bishops.' Because everything only moves one space, the game is more plodding, and not as spread out. The general strategy seems to be to create a general block protecting the King and rolling forward en mass across the board.
After many hours and several beers, I took my leave, promising to return. I continued my search for delicious Indian food. While Thai food is available and plentiful at any hour of the day, it seems that the Indian population closes shop much earlier. It was just past eight o'clock and I had difficulty finding an open establishment. Ultimately, it turned out to be overprice (relatively speaking) and not particularly impressive.
Wednesday evening was Loi Krathong, an annual river festival all across Thailand. Variously reported to be a celebration for the river god, a sending off of bad omens and habits, and a joining of couples ceremony. It involves setting adrift beautiful round rafts made of banana tree trunk cross sections (which float) and banana leaves adorned with flowers and candles. These rafts, called Krathong (pronounced with the sound somewhere between k and g that is important to master if you wish to speak much Thai), range from the small and simple to very intricate affairs.
Along with the floating of the boats is a subdued carnival atmosphere. There are ornate floats on the river, lit up to excess. At certain points along the Chao Praya, there are great food malls, sculptures and pieces of art, traditional dance, and stages with music. The influx of people to small areas that are not designed to handle those kinds of crowds was exciting for a short period, but we did not linger long.
The King's sister had passed away this past January. Because of the importance of the Princess to Thailand, her funeral arrangements have been long in the making. Friday marked the beginning of the official ceremony. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has been wearing black or white since Friday. This has been accompanied by what one would expect of a national grieving period. While the ceremony will continue until Wednesday, people may begin to dress in a less somber tone tomorrow.
Yesterday, I went to Chinatown. With no specific agenda, I opted to walk through the alley markets. These are cramped, and generally full of cheap, poorly made products. They teem with people, and once you're in, forget a quick escape. As the hand-trucks laden with goods and audacious people on motorbikes barrel through, it is best to pay attention, lest your foot end up under a wheel. I did, however, manage to find some very cheap materials for school. Red pens, organizing clips, whiteboard markers, and clear sleeves to organize papers at these prices mean that I'll probably be returning when I need a fresh supply.
Overall, I truly enjoy Chinatown. While Bangkok in general has a no lack of energy, there it is slightly different. The language, foodstuffs, and architecture change from the city at large. From a western viewpoint, the change may not be as stark a contrast as say in New York or San Francisco. That said, the brief time that I've been here has already started to make the differentiation clear.
At the vendors and restaurants, familiar equipment is modified, or merely serves a slightly different purpose. The woks are at a much higher temperature, requiring faster agitation and in general more movement. The omnipresent noodle cart, with its segmented heated compartment for quick blanching noodles and keeping broth warm, is still a mainstay. Processed meat balls and sausages along with the various last minute seasonings that the cook requires are still there. What changes are the available meats and noodles. Duck, not a staple selection outside of Chinatown, shares center stage with pork. The noodles also change. Here the wheat/egg noodle is more prevalent. Wide flat noodles, and thicker, extruded noodles can be found alongside the standard rice noodles. At the table, soy sauce stands in for fish sauce.
While the Chinese here fry with the same gusto as the Thais, it is often with more starch involved. Crunchy patties of taro, peanut, or corn replace the leavened doughnut like concoctions. Fried tofu with its unique texture is more common than unbreaded fish mash with chili. It is here that you see the fried spring rolls. Outside of Chinatown, spring roll wrappers seldom appear. Here, it seems that anyone with a wok full of oil would be blasphemous not to have some type of roll on offer.
The steam table that generally produces kaa-fae bulaat (long time coffee) is covered in a thin cloth atop which taro paste steams to form 'crepes.' These are folded and rolled in coconut shavings or crushed peanuts. Peanuts also make an appearance in the form of bars, bound with something akin to stiff marshmallow. These are not quite as sweet as their western counterparts, and topped with cilantro leaves.
After meandering and eating to a near bursting point, I hopped a motorbike taxi to my school. There, I dropped off my newly acquired goodies. Returning to foot travel, I walked to settle my stomach. As if by chance, I found myself once again by the flower market.
Though it took some searching, I did once again arrive at the spot from the previous Sunday. And lo and behold, there was the same group of men, engaged in what appears to be their weekend activity. They were happy to see me, and I again fell into watching and playing.
While I can't say that I've won a game yet, I have come close a few times. It often comes down to a critical mistake that I don't see until it is too late and the tide changes quickly. They play for hours on end, as I must imagine they've been doing for a while, so I don't feel too bad. As beer tends to loosen tongues, we start joking and it has been great for me to practice my Thai with them. That alone would make it tremendously worthwhile.
I still rely on my phrase book as my vocabulary is nowhere near large enough, but my sentence structure is coming along, as is my pronunciation. Fortunately, while Thai has a very different structure, it's rather grammatically simple. There are no tenses, and much is left to inference. For example, the sentence "I played Thai chess yesterday," can, at it’s simplest, be "mahk ruk Thai len meu-a whan," or "Thai chess play yesterday." The 'I' is inferred and there is no need to conjugate 'play.'
There are also no definers and the noun does not change to become plural. 'A,' 'an,' and 'the' simply don't exist. There is also no word for 'be.' 'Ben' joins nouns and pronouns, but not nouns and adjectives. 'Pom ben ah-jahn.' 'I teacher.'
I am getting better at seeing the words in English and imagining how it will be pronounced in Thai. The sooner I can let go of this crutch, though, the better. As such, I am trying to teach myself to read and write in Thai. Ultimately, it will make everything come together faster, but it's not easy. Not surprisingly, the writing system is vastly different than anything I've ever come across. The consonants are pronounced differently depending on their position in the word. Additionally, the way that vowels are written depends on what they are paired with, and they may appear before, after, above, below, or actually be separated by the consonants. Throw in the tonal markers, and it can be pretty overwhelming. The light at the end of the tunnel is that it is a phonetic language. So once I understand it, how it's written is how it's pronounced. Oh sweet consolation!
Unfortunately, I’ve got other things to do, and I’ve been at this for while. On that note, I take my leave.
Last Sunday, after book shopping near Kao San, I wandered aimlessly in search of Indian food. I found much to take pictures of, and stumbled upon a beautiful little park. Seeing the entrance to a flower market, I decided to explore and came across a group of men in the midst of a warehouse shopping center playing a game. I stopped to watch, and someone offered me a chair. It seemed to be something like chess, and for the most part, I was able to pick up on the rules from watching. When the game ended, I clarified the points I was unclear of, and they immediately threw me into the game.
At some point, they started opening big beers. These they poured into a small plastic mug filled with ice. It was passed around and topped up as necessary. Alternating between playing and watching, I can say that I understand the game fairly well. The difficulty comes in my affinity for the chess that I'm familiar with and the change in strategy required for this version.
In Thai chess, the Rooks and Knights move the same. Pawns also move the same, but the entire line starts the game one row forward. All other pieces move only space at a time. There is one 'Bishop.' In place of the Queen, there are two pieces that can move in any direction forward, but only on the diagonal backward. They can never move sideways or straight back. Once the Pawns cross the third row threshold on the opponents side, they are flipped over and become 'Bishops.' Because everything only moves one space, the game is more plodding, and not as spread out. The general strategy seems to be to create a general block protecting the King and rolling forward en mass across the board.
After many hours and several beers, I took my leave, promising to return. I continued my search for delicious Indian food. While Thai food is available and plentiful at any hour of the day, it seems that the Indian population closes shop much earlier. It was just past eight o'clock and I had difficulty finding an open establishment. Ultimately, it turned out to be overprice (relatively speaking) and not particularly impressive.
Wednesday evening was Loi Krathong, an annual river festival all across Thailand. Variously reported to be a celebration for the river god, a sending off of bad omens and habits, and a joining of couples ceremony. It involves setting adrift beautiful round rafts made of banana tree trunk cross sections (which float) and banana leaves adorned with flowers and candles. These rafts, called Krathong (pronounced with the sound somewhere between k and g that is important to master if you wish to speak much Thai), range from the small and simple to very intricate affairs.
Along with the floating of the boats is a subdued carnival atmosphere. There are ornate floats on the river, lit up to excess. At certain points along the Chao Praya, there are great food malls, sculptures and pieces of art, traditional dance, and stages with music. The influx of people to small areas that are not designed to handle those kinds of crowds was exciting for a short period, but we did not linger long.
The King's sister had passed away this past January. Because of the importance of the Princess to Thailand, her funeral arrangements have been long in the making. Friday marked the beginning of the official ceremony. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has been wearing black or white since Friday. This has been accompanied by what one would expect of a national grieving period. While the ceremony will continue until Wednesday, people may begin to dress in a less somber tone tomorrow.
Yesterday, I went to Chinatown. With no specific agenda, I opted to walk through the alley markets. These are cramped, and generally full of cheap, poorly made products. They teem with people, and once you're in, forget a quick escape. As the hand-trucks laden with goods and audacious people on motorbikes barrel through, it is best to pay attention, lest your foot end up under a wheel. I did, however, manage to find some very cheap materials for school. Red pens, organizing clips, whiteboard markers, and clear sleeves to organize papers at these prices mean that I'll probably be returning when I need a fresh supply.
Overall, I truly enjoy Chinatown. While Bangkok in general has a no lack of energy, there it is slightly different. The language, foodstuffs, and architecture change from the city at large. From a western viewpoint, the change may not be as stark a contrast as say in New York or San Francisco. That said, the brief time that I've been here has already started to make the differentiation clear.
At the vendors and restaurants, familiar equipment is modified, or merely serves a slightly different purpose. The woks are at a much higher temperature, requiring faster agitation and in general more movement. The omnipresent noodle cart, with its segmented heated compartment for quick blanching noodles and keeping broth warm, is still a mainstay. Processed meat balls and sausages along with the various last minute seasonings that the cook requires are still there. What changes are the available meats and noodles. Duck, not a staple selection outside of Chinatown, shares center stage with pork. The noodles also change. Here the wheat/egg noodle is more prevalent. Wide flat noodles, and thicker, extruded noodles can be found alongside the standard rice noodles. At the table, soy sauce stands in for fish sauce.
While the Chinese here fry with the same gusto as the Thais, it is often with more starch involved. Crunchy patties of taro, peanut, or corn replace the leavened doughnut like concoctions. Fried tofu with its unique texture is more common than unbreaded fish mash with chili. It is here that you see the fried spring rolls. Outside of Chinatown, spring roll wrappers seldom appear. Here, it seems that anyone with a wok full of oil would be blasphemous not to have some type of roll on offer.
The steam table that generally produces kaa-fae bulaat (long time coffee) is covered in a thin cloth atop which taro paste steams to form 'crepes.' These are folded and rolled in coconut shavings or crushed peanuts. Peanuts also make an appearance in the form of bars, bound with something akin to stiff marshmallow. These are not quite as sweet as their western counterparts, and topped with cilantro leaves.
After meandering and eating to a near bursting point, I hopped a motorbike taxi to my school. There, I dropped off my newly acquired goodies. Returning to foot travel, I walked to settle my stomach. As if by chance, I found myself once again by the flower market.
Though it took some searching, I did once again arrive at the spot from the previous Sunday. And lo and behold, there was the same group of men, engaged in what appears to be their weekend activity. They were happy to see me, and I again fell into watching and playing.
While I can't say that I've won a game yet, I have come close a few times. It often comes down to a critical mistake that I don't see until it is too late and the tide changes quickly. They play for hours on end, as I must imagine they've been doing for a while, so I don't feel too bad. As beer tends to loosen tongues, we start joking and it has been great for me to practice my Thai with them. That alone would make it tremendously worthwhile.
I still rely on my phrase book as my vocabulary is nowhere near large enough, but my sentence structure is coming along, as is my pronunciation. Fortunately, while Thai has a very different structure, it's rather grammatically simple. There are no tenses, and much is left to inference. For example, the sentence "I played Thai chess yesterday," can, at it’s simplest, be "mahk ruk Thai len meu-a whan," or "Thai chess play yesterday." The 'I' is inferred and there is no need to conjugate 'play.'
There are also no definers and the noun does not change to become plural. 'A,' 'an,' and 'the' simply don't exist. There is also no word for 'be.' 'Ben' joins nouns and pronouns, but not nouns and adjectives. 'Pom ben ah-jahn.' 'I teacher.'
I am getting better at seeing the words in English and imagining how it will be pronounced in Thai. The sooner I can let go of this crutch, though, the better. As such, I am trying to teach myself to read and write in Thai. Ultimately, it will make everything come together faster, but it's not easy. Not surprisingly, the writing system is vastly different than anything I've ever come across. The consonants are pronounced differently depending on their position in the word. Additionally, the way that vowels are written depends on what they are paired with, and they may appear before, after, above, below, or actually be separated by the consonants. Throw in the tonal markers, and it can be pretty overwhelming. The light at the end of the tunnel is that it is a phonetic language. So once I understand it, how it's written is how it's pronounced. Oh sweet consolation!
Unfortunately, I’ve got other things to do, and I’ve been at this for while. On that note, I take my leave.
11.08.2008
toh-ra-sap hak laa-ou
There was a mini reunion last night of TEFL trainees. Many people from the course came into Bangkok and the contingent living here met up with them outside of Center World, the largest mall in Southeast Asia. They set up a giant beer garden there on the weekends during the cool season. Last night they had two stages set up, one apparently sponsored by Singha beer, the other by it's rival, Chang. We ended up in the Chang camp, with two tables in front of the stage. The three liter beer towers stood proudly in the center of each.
When we arrived, they were setting up the stage, and I had no idea what we were in for. What followed was one of those cross-cultural things that I don't fully understand. One member of the band wore a luchador mask. Another, some sort of white mask that would have worked equally well for Halloween or a bank robbery. The lead guitarist wore high top trainers, tight jeans, and a Beatles' shirt. The second guitarist in a collared shirt and tie looked and acted as though he had no idea that he was in a band, let alone this one.
The musical progression began with what I can only describe as death metal, rolling into catchy pop followed by balladic melodies, and finally coming full circle back to the metal. This was interspersed with costume changes, an aerosol can flame thrower display, and some of the hardest to contextualize stage antics I can ever recall seeing. They also managed to disseminate to the crowd playpen balls, balloons, sparklers, and cheap candy.
The beer helped immensely with the entertainment factor.
As things wound down we went in search of transportation to Kao San road. Where else can a large group of white travelers go to on a Friday night but to the falang carnival? I'm getting better and better at negotiating for transportation costs and find it a happy little diversion.
I must admit, there are actually positives about Kao San. First of all, it is a good place to find used English language books. You can trade in books for half of the original price and they are pretty reasonable, with a fair selection. Also, aside from the fact that there is also more skin on display there than anywhere else in Bangkok that you're not paying to see, there is amazing falafel to be had!
At either end of the short street are stationed falafel stands, like sentries of old. They do little to guard against the onslaught of Tuk-Tuk drivers, walking peddlers, suit salesmen, or the ubiquitous lip smacks of ping-pong show solicitors, however. While their observational and security roles are questionable, the public service that they offer is undeniable. They provide a welcome change of pace from the constant stream of noodles, rice, and skewered meats flowing into my gullet.
Mung bean sprouts are plentiful here. Tomatoes are common in the papaya salad. Cucumbers and onions play an important role in many a meal. Cabbage, pickled and fresh, can be found easily within two blocks of wherever you find yourself. The Thais are also not strangers to deep-frying as evidenced at many of the vendor carts. But the combination of chickpea and fava bean mash deep fried and stuffed into a pita slathered with hummus is certainly not from around these parts.
Douse it with tahini and a very different type of hot sauce. Load it with your choice of toppings (there are so many to choose from: corn with onion, cucumber with dill, cabbage and carrot slaw to name but a few). Dig in, and revel in the resultant mess.
In fact, there is a large population of Indian nationals here in Bangkok. My school is actually strategically located between the two areas with the highest density. Perhaps tomorrow will be a day to further investigate. As one of my closest friends from training is in town, I might abscond with her for the day to show her the sights. A food loving co-conspirator is always a welcome addition.
Today, I had to go in search of a cheap replacement phone. Last night, packed into a Tuk-Tuk with four others, my phone fell out my pocket and onto the road. By the time we had managed to get back to it, it had seen the business side of too many tires to be salvageable. Try as I might to roll with things in an upbeat manner, sometimes it's very hard. This was one of those times. I returned home in a rather foul mood.
In a pleasant turn of events, Sarah was on Facebook. We chatted for a while before exhaustion finally set in. The unburdened sleep I enjoyed, as well as waking to face the new day optimistically, can only be attributed to her. I did manage to find a relatively cheap phone, and have loaded most of my lost contacts from other people's phones. There are some people that I'm sure I will lose touch with because of this, but at this point I'd rather not dwell on it.
Currently eating delicious fruit that I bought last weekend and waiting for the storm to clear outside, I will take my leave. I have lessons to prepare for and Thai to study. Until next time, be well.
When we arrived, they were setting up the stage, and I had no idea what we were in for. What followed was one of those cross-cultural things that I don't fully understand. One member of the band wore a luchador mask. Another, some sort of white mask that would have worked equally well for Halloween or a bank robbery. The lead guitarist wore high top trainers, tight jeans, and a Beatles' shirt. The second guitarist in a collared shirt and tie looked and acted as though he had no idea that he was in a band, let alone this one.
The musical progression began with what I can only describe as death metal, rolling into catchy pop followed by balladic melodies, and finally coming full circle back to the metal. This was interspersed with costume changes, an aerosol can flame thrower display, and some of the hardest to contextualize stage antics I can ever recall seeing. They also managed to disseminate to the crowd playpen balls, balloons, sparklers, and cheap candy.
The beer helped immensely with the entertainment factor.
As things wound down we went in search of transportation to Kao San road. Where else can a large group of white travelers go to on a Friday night but to the falang carnival? I'm getting better and better at negotiating for transportation costs and find it a happy little diversion.
I must admit, there are actually positives about Kao San. First of all, it is a good place to find used English language books. You can trade in books for half of the original price and they are pretty reasonable, with a fair selection. Also, aside from the fact that there is also more skin on display there than anywhere else in Bangkok that you're not paying to see, there is amazing falafel to be had!
At either end of the short street are stationed falafel stands, like sentries of old. They do little to guard against the onslaught of Tuk-Tuk drivers, walking peddlers, suit salesmen, or the ubiquitous lip smacks of ping-pong show solicitors, however. While their observational and security roles are questionable, the public service that they offer is undeniable. They provide a welcome change of pace from the constant stream of noodles, rice, and skewered meats flowing into my gullet.
Mung bean sprouts are plentiful here. Tomatoes are common in the papaya salad. Cucumbers and onions play an important role in many a meal. Cabbage, pickled and fresh, can be found easily within two blocks of wherever you find yourself. The Thais are also not strangers to deep-frying as evidenced at many of the vendor carts. But the combination of chickpea and fava bean mash deep fried and stuffed into a pita slathered with hummus is certainly not from around these parts.
Douse it with tahini and a very different type of hot sauce. Load it with your choice of toppings (there are so many to choose from: corn with onion, cucumber with dill, cabbage and carrot slaw to name but a few). Dig in, and revel in the resultant mess.
In fact, there is a large population of Indian nationals here in Bangkok. My school is actually strategically located between the two areas with the highest density. Perhaps tomorrow will be a day to further investigate. As one of my closest friends from training is in town, I might abscond with her for the day to show her the sights. A food loving co-conspirator is always a welcome addition.
Today, I had to go in search of a cheap replacement phone. Last night, packed into a Tuk-Tuk with four others, my phone fell out my pocket and onto the road. By the time we had managed to get back to it, it had seen the business side of too many tires to be salvageable. Try as I might to roll with things in an upbeat manner, sometimes it's very hard. This was one of those times. I returned home in a rather foul mood.
In a pleasant turn of events, Sarah was on Facebook. We chatted for a while before exhaustion finally set in. The unburdened sleep I enjoyed, as well as waking to face the new day optimistically, can only be attributed to her. I did manage to find a relatively cheap phone, and have loaded most of my lost contacts from other people's phones. There are some people that I'm sure I will lose touch with because of this, but at this point I'd rather not dwell on it.
Currently eating delicious fruit that I bought last weekend and waiting for the storm to clear outside, I will take my leave. I have lessons to prepare for and Thai to study. Until next time, be well.
11.05.2008
Kor toht
To all that are follow this blog, my apologies. I have been negligent. Writing these posts requires energy, time, and motivation. Some how these haven't seemed to coincide as of late. Please forgive me. Settling in, the establishment of a new routine, and a general malaise have kept me occupied.
But the fact that my laundry froze on the spin cycle frees up time, as well as requiring me to stay up. The tremendous amount of new experiences and thoughts/feelings coupled with the gentle haranguing of friends and family provides the motivation.
I have an apartment. I decided to move into the building that my friends from training are living in. While it would be considered small and sparse by Western standards, the living space is certainly as large as my first Chicago apartment. While that was called an efficiency, this has that place beat hands down:
-A balcony where I can hang my clothes to dry (and a nice view)
-A built in wardrobe, shelf and desk with mirror
-A queen size bed (that was as hard as a rock until the addition of a pad)
-Mini fridge, microwave, TV
-Free Internet
-A one room bathroom/shower (There's a drain in the floor with a shower handle. It even has a 'hot' shower, which is essentially a mini water heater. You get used to the cold shower pretty quickly.)
-A pool
Unfortunately, it requires a commute of about an hour via river ferry every morning and afternoon. Though as far as commutes go, traveling down the middle of the Chao Praya with Bangkok looming on either side as the sun hits it's stride is not too bad. That's as long as there's a seat available and that' there’s not a torrential downpour. Those things do diminish it slightly, but the Thais have been doing this for a while, so who am I to complain?
My school is wonderful. I teach 21 hours every week. It covers four grade levels (11-16 year olds) with class sizes of about 40 students. Each grade is broken up into ten 'levels' based on their overall academic scores. While these may correlate loosely to general interest in school, it doesn't necessarily translate into English ability. The disparity within a given class can be huge.
I see one class twice a week for 50 minutes each time. I also see one class for two periods in a row, but all of the others I see just once a week. Given the huge variety in skill level and lesson plans required, this has been quite a time consuming undertaking. The basic ideas for how to cover the material, and more importantly, keep the students engaged and occupied for the period is taxing in and of itself. The additional requirement of actually grading nearly 800 students' work makes for full days.
Overall, however, I truly enjoy the teaching. Many of my students are tremendously sweet, and no day is dull. The interaction with the students is very rewarding, as is feeling that I'm actually making a difference in their English speaking skills. The polite wais in the hallways and the ever present shouts of 'Mr. Matt! Hello!' as I move through the school put a smile on my face that seems to remain well after I leave.
It seems that my teaching style has sufficiently impressed one of my Thai co-teachers for her to go looking for outside work for me. She approached me today with what seems to be a contact for daily two-hour private lessons with a man for after school. Apparently, he has recently been promoted to a supervisory position and wishes to improve his English. The stated figure is 500 Baht an hour, of which I believe she would like ten percent.
While part time work is a very common practice here for English teachers, this seems like an exceptional offer. I will hopefully set it up tomorrow so that the 'driver' can start picking me up at 3:30 from school. My Thai Madame at work.
I happened to meet a Thai woman who is an American citizen on Friday when I was returning school from lunch. Vanee (my new friend) has lived in Fresno, California for 27 years where she runs a produce stand, bringing farmers’ bounty to the market. She also grows some of her own fruits and vegetables. She comes back to Thailand occasionally to take care of financial issues and see her family. While her English isn't great, she loves me just for being an American who teaches at her Alma Matta. As such, she insisted on taking me out Saturday with her sister to buy fruit and show me a wholesaler.
From what I can tell, Thais love three things above all else: eating, shopping, and haggling. When these three things are combined, look out. The synergy produces some form of Super Thai, less mortal person than mythical creature. I swear I saw these 5'2'' women grow six inches as they cornered a poor Thai Indian girl over the authenticity of some 'Indian made' shirts. 15 minutes later, Vanee had bought three and the girl had somehow managed not to burst into tears. An hour and a half later, Vanee wanted to go get one more.
When I talk about shopping, you may be picturing some quaint open air, street-side vendor. They do have those, lots of them. But they also have more malls than you can imagine. A few are what would be familiar in the West, perhaps a little bit more packed. The majority, however, basically move those street side vendors indoors. A 15 foot by 15 foot space filled with dress pants and slacks. Next to that is another 15 by 15 stall full of belts, or sheets, or polo shirts, or you name it. This goes on nearly infinitely until they have occupied ten stories of a building taking up a city block. Add thousands of people milling about to your mental image, and you start to get an idea of the experience.
Sometimes the floors are segregated by merchandise: electronics on three, men’s wear on five. This can by no means be thought of as the rule of thumb. Even with the 'streets' being numbered, I still find myself wanting a compass, a canteen, and sometimes a machete (maps are fairly useless in this country and the opinions of at least three independent people are required to verify the direction and distance to a desired destination). The shops give out cards dictating their position as if fourth floor, at the intersection of streets 16 and 12, is an address.
This actually comes in tremendously handy though. Shops must be revisited because apparently hiding among the piles of garments lurk seamstresses. Pick out your pants; get measured for inseam and waist, pay, and come back in a half an hour to pick them up, freshly hemmed. Sure, Brooks Brothers doesn't sell rayon/polyester blends, but these babies don't wrinkle. Also, when I sweat through them, they dry in minutes.
The foray into the land of fruit buying with experienced guides was great too. Not only did I pick up some knowledge about the myriad types of papaya here (don't even get me started on mangoes), I was introduced to a segmented, pitless cousin of the longan, and learned proper etiquette for eating on the go. After being induced to try a fresh olive, I mastered the ever-important phrase 'I don't love it.'
While I am certain I could go on and on, it is getting late. I will endeavor to not let so much time elapse between posts in the future. But for now, goodnight.
P.S.: While I was eating lunch yesterday, the television was on in the teacher's area. The Thai teachers turned up the volume for me so that I could hear Barack Obama's acceptance speech. As I sat listening, my throat got tight and tears welled in my eyes. Pride, vindication, joy, and hope for America are emotions that have lain dormant in me for too long. I wished at that moment that I could share it with my fellow countrymen. A new day is dawning.
But the fact that my laundry froze on the spin cycle frees up time, as well as requiring me to stay up. The tremendous amount of new experiences and thoughts/feelings coupled with the gentle haranguing of friends and family provides the motivation.
I have an apartment. I decided to move into the building that my friends from training are living in. While it would be considered small and sparse by Western standards, the living space is certainly as large as my first Chicago apartment. While that was called an efficiency, this has that place beat hands down:
-A balcony where I can hang my clothes to dry (and a nice view)
-A built in wardrobe, shelf and desk with mirror
-A queen size bed (that was as hard as a rock until the addition of a pad)
-Mini fridge, microwave, TV
-Free Internet
-A one room bathroom/shower (There's a drain in the floor with a shower handle. It even has a 'hot' shower, which is essentially a mini water heater. You get used to the cold shower pretty quickly.)
-A pool
Unfortunately, it requires a commute of about an hour via river ferry every morning and afternoon. Though as far as commutes go, traveling down the middle of the Chao Praya with Bangkok looming on either side as the sun hits it's stride is not too bad. That's as long as there's a seat available and that' there’s not a torrential downpour. Those things do diminish it slightly, but the Thais have been doing this for a while, so who am I to complain?
My school is wonderful. I teach 21 hours every week. It covers four grade levels (11-16 year olds) with class sizes of about 40 students. Each grade is broken up into ten 'levels' based on their overall academic scores. While these may correlate loosely to general interest in school, it doesn't necessarily translate into English ability. The disparity within a given class can be huge.
I see one class twice a week for 50 minutes each time. I also see one class for two periods in a row, but all of the others I see just once a week. Given the huge variety in skill level and lesson plans required, this has been quite a time consuming undertaking. The basic ideas for how to cover the material, and more importantly, keep the students engaged and occupied for the period is taxing in and of itself. The additional requirement of actually grading nearly 800 students' work makes for full days.
Overall, however, I truly enjoy the teaching. Many of my students are tremendously sweet, and no day is dull. The interaction with the students is very rewarding, as is feeling that I'm actually making a difference in their English speaking skills. The polite wais in the hallways and the ever present shouts of 'Mr. Matt! Hello!' as I move through the school put a smile on my face that seems to remain well after I leave.
It seems that my teaching style has sufficiently impressed one of my Thai co-teachers for her to go looking for outside work for me. She approached me today with what seems to be a contact for daily two-hour private lessons with a man for after school. Apparently, he has recently been promoted to a supervisory position and wishes to improve his English. The stated figure is 500 Baht an hour, of which I believe she would like ten percent.
While part time work is a very common practice here for English teachers, this seems like an exceptional offer. I will hopefully set it up tomorrow so that the 'driver' can start picking me up at 3:30 from school. My Thai Madame at work.
I happened to meet a Thai woman who is an American citizen on Friday when I was returning school from lunch. Vanee (my new friend) has lived in Fresno, California for 27 years where she runs a produce stand, bringing farmers’ bounty to the market. She also grows some of her own fruits and vegetables. She comes back to Thailand occasionally to take care of financial issues and see her family. While her English isn't great, she loves me just for being an American who teaches at her Alma Matta. As such, she insisted on taking me out Saturday with her sister to buy fruit and show me a wholesaler.
From what I can tell, Thais love three things above all else: eating, shopping, and haggling. When these three things are combined, look out. The synergy produces some form of Super Thai, less mortal person than mythical creature. I swear I saw these 5'2'' women grow six inches as they cornered a poor Thai Indian girl over the authenticity of some 'Indian made' shirts. 15 minutes later, Vanee had bought three and the girl had somehow managed not to burst into tears. An hour and a half later, Vanee wanted to go get one more.
When I talk about shopping, you may be picturing some quaint open air, street-side vendor. They do have those, lots of them. But they also have more malls than you can imagine. A few are what would be familiar in the West, perhaps a little bit more packed. The majority, however, basically move those street side vendors indoors. A 15 foot by 15 foot space filled with dress pants and slacks. Next to that is another 15 by 15 stall full of belts, or sheets, or polo shirts, or you name it. This goes on nearly infinitely until they have occupied ten stories of a building taking up a city block. Add thousands of people milling about to your mental image, and you start to get an idea of the experience.
Sometimes the floors are segregated by merchandise: electronics on three, men’s wear on five. This can by no means be thought of as the rule of thumb. Even with the 'streets' being numbered, I still find myself wanting a compass, a canteen, and sometimes a machete (maps are fairly useless in this country and the opinions of at least three independent people are required to verify the direction and distance to a desired destination). The shops give out cards dictating their position as if fourth floor, at the intersection of streets 16 and 12, is an address.
This actually comes in tremendously handy though. Shops must be revisited because apparently hiding among the piles of garments lurk seamstresses. Pick out your pants; get measured for inseam and waist, pay, and come back in a half an hour to pick them up, freshly hemmed. Sure, Brooks Brothers doesn't sell rayon/polyester blends, but these babies don't wrinkle. Also, when I sweat through them, they dry in minutes.
The foray into the land of fruit buying with experienced guides was great too. Not only did I pick up some knowledge about the myriad types of papaya here (don't even get me started on mangoes), I was introduced to a segmented, pitless cousin of the longan, and learned proper etiquette for eating on the go. After being induced to try a fresh olive, I mastered the ever-important phrase 'I don't love it.'
While I am certain I could go on and on, it is getting late. I will endeavor to not let so much time elapse between posts in the future. But for now, goodnight.
P.S.: While I was eating lunch yesterday, the television was on in the teacher's area. The Thai teachers turned up the volume for me so that I could hear Barack Obama's acceptance speech. As I sat listening, my throat got tight and tears welled in my eyes. Pride, vindication, joy, and hope for America are emotions that have lain dormant in me for too long. I wished at that moment that I could share it with my fellow countrymen. A new day is dawning.
10.27.2008
Pom mai mee bahn. Pom sow.
I wrote this on Monday, October 27 at 9:00 P.M. It apparently didn't post. I should have a new post tomorrow night.
So much has happened since my last post, I don't know where to begin. I've finished my training course and said my farewells to many of my fellow trainees. The partings were heartfelt, and I'm certain that I've made friends for life. Fortunately, we did manage to have one final blowout; karaoke included.
Early Saturday morning Erica, three other trainees, and I set off for Bangkok. Erica and I were dropped off at Siam Computer and Language (our new employer) and left to our own devices while the other three were squirreled away to secure housing in north Bangkok. Meeting our contacts, we were given our assignments. Everyone in the office who heard of my placement had nothing but congratulations to offer.
After basic formalities, we split up to find housing in our respective areas. One of those formalities was informing us that while the company would be providing a housing stipend, we would be expected to put our own deposit down. That's three month's rent. That's a lot of Baht. Going separately was a necessity because my school is right in the heart of old Bangkok, but Erica's is near the eastern fringe. This is a very large distance, especially in Bangkok traffic.
Ian, the internal program director for Siam, loaded me in his brand new Honda and we were off. Zipping may not be best way to describe our trek through the streets, but unless you're on a motorbike, not too many people are. Canadian by birth, Ian has lived in Bangkok for eight years. He has taught in several schools around the city, including my current posting. He knows the neighborhood names. He has no sense of direction.
We were attempting to get to the school at which Ian had taught for two years. What could have been a fairly straight shot (by Bangkok standards) turned into a journey of an hour and a half. Ian may not have any idea where he is in relation to other things, or where other things are in relation to each other. He certainly doesn't use vague concepts like north, south, east, or west. He might measure distances using a perhaps unreliable time en route methodology. But Ian is also a tremendously nice guy, and a font of useful knowledge about teaching in Thailand, and Bangkok life in general.
During the six hours that we spent together, most was spent in his car, and nearly all of that was engaging and insightful. For my part in distracting him with a barrage of questions I accept partial responsibility.
We visited my school and having spent time there himself, he was a great asset. He knew the layout, the room numbering, and the faculty. Having him introduce me to the department head and ah-jahn Cindy (my fellow teacher) was a nice feather in my cap. He was also able to fill me in a little more on the students and what to expect as far as behavior and skill level.
As I discovered today, my school has some great qualities. It happens to be an all girl school, which apparently makes a world of difference in classroom behavior, disposition, and general desire to learn. The students are so sweet, at least on the first day when we mostly play games. The faculty seem nice and very willing to help.
For the moment, that will have to suffice. As it is getting late, I'll post more on school thoughts soon. There is much to discuss about beginning my career as a teacher, and I fear that I will go on for quite awhile once I begin.
Another important matter needs attention first. I have no home at the moment. Ian and I left the school after speaking with Cindy. She had a lead on an apartment near the school that we were going to look at today (but that has been postponed until tomorrow... maybe). He wanted to show me a few in his neighborhood so that I could get a feel for them, but the idea was to hold off until I could look at Cindy's lead and then decide.
After another directional misadventure, we did manage to look at two apartments. Things here are very minimalist. A bed, wardrobe, basic desk with moveable stool, and an all in one toilet/hose yourself down room are pretty much the standard. They weren't bad, and tomorrow I will speak with Ian again about commute time and reevaluate it.
In the interim, I am staying on the north side of the city with one of my fellow trainees. It is a wonderful apartment complex. The manager is cutting the teachers a deal, and the apartments include the standard with a small refrigerator, microwave, and television. Also, Internet is included. The complex even has a pool. This would be idilic if it weren't for the hour commute via ferry to work. It truly is a tough decision.
For the time being, I can only count my blessings for having someone whom I've known for such a short time enduring my invasion of her space. I have tried to intrude as little as possible, but still realize that this is inconveniencing her. I hope that I would be so accommodating in her place.
While the tone of this post is fairly light hearted (owing to my first day at school), the emotional roller-coaster of Saturday was not. Arriving in Bangkok on very little sleep to find that not only was my housing not arranged as promised, but that the cost of securing any would deplete my financial resources in their entirety left me shell shocked. I felt adrift in a huge teeming metropolis without an emotional anchor. Here I was to be teaching my first class in less than 48 hours, and I wasn't sure that I would have a place to stay in the next 12.
Dad, thank you for your support when I needed it. You've buoyed me yet again.
So much has happened since my last post, I don't know where to begin. I've finished my training course and said my farewells to many of my fellow trainees. The partings were heartfelt, and I'm certain that I've made friends for life. Fortunately, we did manage to have one final blowout; karaoke included.
Early Saturday morning Erica, three other trainees, and I set off for Bangkok. Erica and I were dropped off at Siam Computer and Language (our new employer) and left to our own devices while the other three were squirreled away to secure housing in north Bangkok. Meeting our contacts, we were given our assignments. Everyone in the office who heard of my placement had nothing but congratulations to offer.
After basic formalities, we split up to find housing in our respective areas. One of those formalities was informing us that while the company would be providing a housing stipend, we would be expected to put our own deposit down. That's three month's rent. That's a lot of Baht. Going separately was a necessity because my school is right in the heart of old Bangkok, but Erica's is near the eastern fringe. This is a very large distance, especially in Bangkok traffic.
Ian, the internal program director for Siam, loaded me in his brand new Honda and we were off. Zipping may not be best way to describe our trek through the streets, but unless you're on a motorbike, not too many people are. Canadian by birth, Ian has lived in Bangkok for eight years. He has taught in several schools around the city, including my current posting. He knows the neighborhood names. He has no sense of direction.
We were attempting to get to the school at which Ian had taught for two years. What could have been a fairly straight shot (by Bangkok standards) turned into a journey of an hour and a half. Ian may not have any idea where he is in relation to other things, or where other things are in relation to each other. He certainly doesn't use vague concepts like north, south, east, or west. He might measure distances using a perhaps unreliable time en route methodology. But Ian is also a tremendously nice guy, and a font of useful knowledge about teaching in Thailand, and Bangkok life in general.
During the six hours that we spent together, most was spent in his car, and nearly all of that was engaging and insightful. For my part in distracting him with a barrage of questions I accept partial responsibility.
We visited my school and having spent time there himself, he was a great asset. He knew the layout, the room numbering, and the faculty. Having him introduce me to the department head and ah-jahn Cindy (my fellow teacher) was a nice feather in my cap. He was also able to fill me in a little more on the students and what to expect as far as behavior and skill level.
As I discovered today, my school has some great qualities. It happens to be an all girl school, which apparently makes a world of difference in classroom behavior, disposition, and general desire to learn. The students are so sweet, at least on the first day when we mostly play games. The faculty seem nice and very willing to help.
For the moment, that will have to suffice. As it is getting late, I'll post more on school thoughts soon. There is much to discuss about beginning my career as a teacher, and I fear that I will go on for quite awhile once I begin.
Another important matter needs attention first. I have no home at the moment. Ian and I left the school after speaking with Cindy. She had a lead on an apartment near the school that we were going to look at today (but that has been postponed until tomorrow... maybe). He wanted to show me a few in his neighborhood so that I could get a feel for them, but the idea was to hold off until I could look at Cindy's lead and then decide.
After another directional misadventure, we did manage to look at two apartments. Things here are very minimalist. A bed, wardrobe, basic desk with moveable stool, and an all in one toilet/hose yourself down room are pretty much the standard. They weren't bad, and tomorrow I will speak with Ian again about commute time and reevaluate it.
In the interim, I am staying on the north side of the city with one of my fellow trainees. It is a wonderful apartment complex. The manager is cutting the teachers a deal, and the apartments include the standard with a small refrigerator, microwave, and television. Also, Internet is included. The complex even has a pool. This would be idilic if it weren't for the hour commute via ferry to work. It truly is a tough decision.
For the time being, I can only count my blessings for having someone whom I've known for such a short time enduring my invasion of her space. I have tried to intrude as little as possible, but still realize that this is inconveniencing her. I hope that I would be so accommodating in her place.
While the tone of this post is fairly light hearted (owing to my first day at school), the emotional roller-coaster of Saturday was not. Arriving in Bangkok on very little sleep to find that not only was my housing not arranged as promised, but that the cost of securing any would deplete my financial resources in their entirety left me shell shocked. I felt adrift in a huge teeming metropolis without an emotional anchor. Here I was to be teaching my first class in less than 48 hours, and I wasn't sure that I would have a place to stay in the next 12.
Dad, thank you for your support when I needed it. You've buoyed me yet again.
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