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.
11.16.2008
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.
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