Sea Monkeys

So this weekend’s animal related adventure (because every escapade here seems to be involve some sort of animal) was the Lopburi Monkey Festival.


I didn’t arrive in Lopburi until around 9pm on Saturday night, because I spent most of the morning at the bottom of a pool in Bangkok. By this I mean I completed my scuba pool session with my cousin/instructor extraordinaire, Steve.

The night before I tried my first Mos Burger, part of a Japanese burger chain that’s apparently been sweeping Asia. The Spicy Mos Cheeseburger wasn’t too shabby, but it definitely wasn’t spicy. To be fair, my definition of spicy has been seriously altered since I arrived in Thailand. I'm going to try to work my way through the Mos Burger menu, maybe I'll have tried them all before I leave Asia.


So Friday night I crashed at Steve and Anastasia’s lovely pad (for as long as I live, I doubt I’ll ever bathe in such a spacious shower), then I completed my pool session the next day. Firstly, I’ll say what I’m sure every diver says for the first time: there’s no sensation quite like breathing underwater. It’s something I always dreamed about doing (literally), and although I was covered in gear and strapped to a big tank, sitting at the bottom of the pool and realizing I could remain there was pretty surreal. I’m excited for my first open water dive next weekend, even though it’s going to be in Pattaya, which according to every account I’ve come across, houses the scum of the country. I’m honestly kind of interested in seeing it now, after hearing such widespread vilification and disgust.

Lopburi definitely didn’t end up being my favorite town, but I was happy to see some people from my program. It’s a huge relief to speak with people who understand exactly what I’m saying without having to resort to hand gestures or repeating myself slowly as if speaking to a five year old. The language barrier hasn’t gotten to me too much, but it can seriously perpetuate small problems, particularly in Thailand where people will pretend that they understand you so they don’t lose face. That particular Thai habit is what leaves me stranded on the wrong side of town, writing an exam six times over, or sitting in my room with no electricity.

In my time here I’ve met very nice Thai people, who smile at me, offer me free food, or stand in front of me on the bus to block my eyes from the sun. I’ve also met people with generally bad intentions, who see a farang as a separate class of person, who is inevitably wealthy and deserves to be swindled. I don’t know how else a culture that believes in karma could downright steal from people without restraint. There was unfortunately a lot of that this weekend, and even though my stuff went unscathed, I was disheartened (and for the first time in Thailand, angered) by the disinterest of the hotel staff when it came to retrieving missing goods.

The Monkey Festival itself was also pretty unclimactic; I was more thrown off by the monkeys climbing on cars and drinking sodas in the street than the ones crawling up the walls of the temple where the food offering actually occurred. I was curious about the ruins the monkeys were lounging on, there were a lot of relics from an old city scattered throughout Lopburi, and I wanted to know their history.

Before I left, I saw the local sunflower fields, which were actually rather picturesque. As a friend of mine pointed out, most people don't see that much bright yellow on a regular basis, particularly in a natural setting, so it was kind of captivating. Here's me looking like a total flower child:


I had to hop on a bus not soon after that, from which I took a motorbike, to the skytrain, to a van in order to get back home. If you don't ride at least three forms of transportation it’s not a real Thai trip. I only spent about 16 hours in Lopburi total, so the travel time felt even more dragged out than usual. Traveling on the weekend is still my greatest solace, but it’s also dissatisfying in its brevity.

However, I’ve decided to think about my circumstances in a more positive light, after remembering the many conversations I’ve had with travelers who wander freely for several months. Almost all of them agree that what really burns them out is not having a base, a space to call their own where they can decompress in between traveling. Here in Amata, I have that, humble though my town may be. Besides, travel is still travel, and even a short weekend can produce long lasting memories.

Sky Cowboys

This weekend kicked off with a field trip on Friday, a day began and 5am and seemed to last forever. We took the Mathayom 5 (Grade 11) students to several locations in Suphanburi, a province northeast of Bangkok.

The Suphanburi historical museum was vaguely interesting, although I wondered why the school selected Suphanburi as a field trip location. It’s namely an industrial province, and relative to other provinces it doesn’t have much in the way of ancient ruins or a gripping history. Suphanburi’s one claim to fame seems to be that much of the famous national poem “Khun Chang Khun Phaen” takes place in that province.

“Khun Chang Khun Phaen” is a long epic about two men, Khun Chang and Khun Phaen, who are in love with the same woman, Wanthong. The two men essentially spend the entire story fighting over Wanthong, kidnapping her, watching her sleep, marrying other women, trying to kill her child... when the love triangle debacle is brought to the King, he orders Wanthong to be executed for having two husbands. They chop her head off, while her son watches in horror. Great ending. Our coordinator seemed to think it had a good moral lesson, I decided to keep silent about my opinions regarding this tale.

We also went to a fun, crowded and busy market called Samchuk, where my students kept handing me a variety of unrecognizable foods and insisting “try it, teechur.” My one downfall was having too many sweets (sticky rice, jelly candy, sesame chews, a cherry coffee beverage, the list goes on), and I suffered the first stomachache I’ve had since arriving in Thailand.

We attended some sort of water buffalo show, which was narrated in Thai so I failed to understand its premise. The students were laughing, however, so I assume the storyline was amusing. The water buffalo performed a few tricks, including lifting their legs and smiling (I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a water buffalo smile, but it’s pretty awkward). Once midgets began dancing on the water buffalo and bounding from back to back, I decided to stop trying to gauge the academic value of this sight and just enjoy the absurdity. I can now also add water buffalo to my list of random animals I’ve ridden in Thailand.

We went to several cultural monuments, including a couple locations where the students and Thai teachers prayed. As Americans we debated whether we should join them, but I decided it would be more disrespectful of me to pretend to pray than to watch silently.

Once the field trip was over, we were told the school would provide a van to Bangkok, and that we’d arrive by 6:30pm at the latest. Of course, in true Thai style we ended up taking a bus, to a van, to a cab, to the skytrain, and I arrived in my destination past 8:00pm (which was regrettable considering I’d made dinner plans with my cousins at 7:00pm). My cousins were very understanding, and we went out for a tasty dinner at a Japanese restaurant called Fuji. I spent the evening at the home of my cousins, Jeff and Prapassaree, and their small but mighty dog, Dobby.

The Satit Kaset school fair kicked off on Saturday morning at the Bang Khen campus, where we performed our line dancing routine with our students in front of parents and school administrators (an embarrassing video of this is soon to come). Our students looked great with their little cowboy hats and bandanas, and they were so full of energy—I had my first feeling of pure teacher pride, and now I hope it will carry over to something a little more scholastic than the Cotton Eyed Joe.


Afterwards we grabbed lunch at the busy Kaset fair, and I wandered Bangkok a little on my own. I spent some time looking for a cell phone (yes, I lost it already) and then just enjoyed the experience wandering through the city. I stopped every once in a while to buy random street food, and practiced haggling for clothing (I pulled the teacher card again, and a vendor bended from 220 baht to 150). I was losing steam after walking almost 10 BTS stops on foot—this distance won’t mean much to those of you who have never been to Bangkok, but it’s a fair amount to trek with a full backpack. Sarah, another teacher from my school, invited me to her uncle’s really nice apartment in the city, where he greeted me with a taste of home with some California dried figs and raisins.

That evening we went out to a swanky bar called the Sky Bar, which overlooked the entirety of Bangkok. Drinks cost almost 500 baht, which for Thailand currency is really steep, but it was worth it for the view and ambiance. I got a drink called “Air” made with Grey Goose and real peach puree, with lychees floating on the bottom. The temperature was perfect, we had live jazz in the background and the city sparkled below us. We went out to an Irish Pub afterwards, but I called it a night pretty soon afterwards because I was tired of paying the cost of a five-course meal for a beer.



On Sunday we took a trip to the National Museum, where we saw, well, a lot of Buddhas. Old Buddhas, newer Buddhas, Buddhas Subduing Mara, Buddhas standing with their hands out, Buddhas with four arms, Buddhas with two arms…. The list goes on. There were also several ornate cabinets I wished I could take home with me, and a tablet engraved by the inventor of the Thai alphabet. I learned a little more about Thai history, although I’m not sure if many of the names stuck.

I also experienced a brief bout through Chinatown, which was so packed with stands, people, vehicles and food we could hardly move. Stores were crowded between buildings and almost spilling onto the street, and they offered anything from Chinese calendars to an entire cooked pig. We were traveling in a rather awkward crowd of seven, and I decided that next time I would only go with one other person, just for the sake of squeezing through stands and finding somewhere to sit.

I finally caught a bus back to Chonburi, my home sweet home where a gecko greeted me at the door and my bathroom was flooded from a leak. How I missed it!

Teacher photo of the week:

Waterfalling Into a Tiger's Lap

This Sunday I returned from another busy weekend excursion and concluded that I’m leading a pretty unusual life.

Here’s a question everyone gets on Mondays: “Hey, what did you do this weekend?”

Normal responses:
“I went to a movie.”
“I hung out.”

Answers these days:
“I rode elephants and rafted down the river Kwae”
“I swam in waterfalls and pet tigers.”

Before I go any further, I want to clarify: I know I’m talking about touching tigers and elephants, but I hope I’m not exoticizing this country. Life here seems pretty outlandish sometimes, but Thailand is also very westernized. Most of the monks here have cell phones. All of the children have facebook. There’s a 7/11 on every corner. Granted, the Lays chips flavors sold in a Thai 7/11 are BBQ Prawn, Nori Seaweed and Pickle Explosion… but you get the idea.

On to the good stuff! This past weekend was spent in Kanchanaburi, where we spent part of our orientation but missed some of the most important sites.

Saturday we went to Erawan National Park to see the waterfalls, and it was just my speed. There were some Europeans, but there were also plenty of Thai families, and none of the waterfalls were too crowded. The waterfalls were all blue, glowing and so lagoon-like that I expected a nymph of some sort to be bathing in one. The falls had seven layers, and the top waterfall was nearly empty—this was where we spent most of our time, just sitting on the smooth rocks as water poured around us.



Most of the pools had pesky little fish that felt like they were biting us, but I think they were actually nibbling off our dead skin. Still a pretty awkward sensation. It was funny to watch people get nipped for the first time and let out a little shriek.

The Tiger Temple on Sunday was pretty neat, but I definitely felt more like a tourist than I have in a while. As the brochure explained it, the public was allowed to see tigers in the middle of the day, when they were digesting and napping in the peak of the heat. During the mornings and evenings they roam free with the monks, but for the couple hours when tourists see them they have to be on leashes. It honestly didn’t seem to matter much, many of the tigers were lying lazily in one spot or just plain sleeping. I initially wondered whether it was worth it, but I decided there’s nothing quite like laying my head on a tiger’s stomach—not sure if I’ll ever be able to do something like that again.



On my way home I ended up at the wrong bus station in Bangkok, and tried to take a motorbike to the correct station. In spite of repeating the location name three times to my motorbike driver, I got dropped off somewhere arbitrary. At least I didn’t pay too much for the ride—the driver actually gave me a discount when I mentioned I was a teacher. I walked a bit until I found the sky train, at which point my friend called and explained that they were all on the last bus to Chonburi and were restraining the driver from leaving without me. That was a fun evening—I’m only half kidding, I think cutting things close keeps life interesting.

Thoughts on Teaching, Two Weeks In

Teaching English in Thailand requires many skills, and as I expected, patience is the most essential. However, there are several elements of teaching I did not anticipate, for example the physical side. The humidity sometimes makes it hard for me to focus, and my allergy to bug bites causes some of the stings on my legs to swell (a condition that is exacerbated by being on my feet all day). By the end of some classes, I’m blanketed in chalk dust, sweat and exhaustion. They look cute, I know. But don't let that fool you.

The most important step has been understanding my student’s perspective. English is a confusing language. I would hate to learn it as my second tongue. Naturally, many of my students feel the same way. I have accepted that most them would rather not bother with English, with the exception of a few precocious children in the front row (these kids are my lifeline). If you ask Thai children direct questions, they will probably mumble in response. If you ask them to read aloud, they will read in a soft whisper, and class focus will quickly dissipate.

Most of them don’t want light shone on their abilities, with a few exceptions. Children will usually volunteer if the activity involves art—Thai students are pretty incredible artists. Playing games not only encourages participation, it makes them associate English with fun. I’d rather see their faces lit up than glazed over with boredom. When I really want them to speak English, offering kids several answers to give me, rather than expecting complete improvisation, encourages them to respond with confidence.

One ex-pat teacher told me that Thai students are not independent or strong individuals, and I understand why he felt this way but don’t quite agree. There is certainly a strong group mentality, kids always go to the bathroom in pairs, they look to each other for answers, and the culture has a generally strong emphasis on maintaining the family/group unit throughout life (my coordinator is in her late 20’s and lives with her family). The ethnic homogeneity of the student population, along with the use of school uniforms and regulated haircuts also contributes to this sense of conformity. However, it’s easy to mistake their shyness for a lack of personality, and to miss the subtle attributes that make the children distinct. Their unique qualities are somewhat more subdued than those of Americans, but they certainly exist.

As for classroom management, disrespecting a teacher isn’t common, but chatting constantly during class is pretty normal here—that aspect of the Thai classroom, I can’t stand. At least in America kids are usually bored in silence, doodling or sleeping on their desks. Raising your voice does not work, and is considered disrespectful in this country. So oftentimes I’ll just wait (sometimes for several minutes) for them to be silent before I speak, staring intently until they hush each other. If one student is particularly chatty, I’ll make him get up and do example work with me on the board, in English.

When I’m not forced to punish, I think I’m more fun than some Thai teachers. Girls generally like me; they ask me if I have a boyfriend, and comment on my long blonde hair and clothing. Sometimes the younger kids don’t want me to leave after a really fun day. When it comes to disinterested older kids I try to take things in stride. If they’re so distracted they can’t focus, I will briefly put our work on hiatus to talk with them about surfing or movies. At least they’re speaking English! Getting through the schoolwork is definitely part of my obligation, but I also flew across the world to help Thai students practice conversing with a native English speaker.

My Grade 10 students, probably my hardest class, have become more endearing in light of my line dancing class. My coordinator assumed all Americans know how to line dance, and asked that we prepare a routine for some grade 10 students. Another teacher suggested we teach the kids the “Cotton Eyed Joe,” and I loved the idea—not sure if that counts as line dancing, but it’s definitely a significant pop culture piece from the states. We see the class as an opportunity to just have fun with the kids, and I think it’s working. We even got our coordinator, Thamanoon, to do the dance and the students loved seeing a person of authority busting a move. They act embarrassed, but they also voluntarily show up for practice during their lunch break, so I know it’s at least somewhat entertaining.

Things I’m finally getting used to:
- Being asked “may I come in, teacher?” every time a student enters the classroom.
- The hundreds of little shoes scattered in the hallways (students take off their shoes before entering the classroom).
- Seeing boys come late to class after military training, still wearing army uniforms.
- Students showing up to school in sweaters and scarves for 70-degree weather.
- Three words: “Goooooddd mooowwwnneeeeennng teeeechuurrr!!!”

Address

For the record, my address is:

Rochelle Bailis #212, Amata Mansion (BIP), 700/1000 Moo 1 Klong-Tam Ru, Amphur Muang, Chonburi 20000 Thailand

Letter, packages and other forms of postal love are strongly encouraged! I'm also just curious to see how well the mailing system works here.

The Beguiling Boroughs of Bangkok

I spent the weekend in Bangkok, and it turned out to be kind of a reunion weekend for most of the teachers on my program.

I began my Friday evening with a drink in a traditional English pub with our British co-workers, who gave us some pointers when it comes to understanding Thai culture and English language teaching. They were both self-diagnosed addicts of Thailand, and neither of them would ever consider moving back home. I’ve already spoken with several ex-pats whose lives are similarly entrenched, and it fascinates me to speak with someone who has seemingly left the entire world they know behind in favor of a new life. Could I do that?

I roomed with several other teachers in a cavernous hostel I discovered called Suk 11, which had the decor of an Indiana Jones adventure ride. It ended up being the main destination for most other teachers visiting for the weekend, and was thankfully close to a lot of activity.


We went out around Sukhumvit road that night, to several quirky bars including the Pickled Liver, the Hilary Bar, and Bangkok Beat, which featured a live band. I had a great time, although every bar was crawling with shady old British men looking for young Thai women to hire or liquor up. My guy friends were literally the only young men I saw in Bangkok Beat, the rest of the male population consisted of old, awkward white men looking to score.

The next morning I dragged some friends to Chatachuk market, off the Mo Chit BTS stop. Chatachuk is a never-ending maze of small stores, selling everything from leather shoes to art. The animal section was by far the most surprising portion; birds, kittens, puppies, marsupials of all varieties were displayed in an endless series of boxes and cages, many of them covered in cheesy bows and flowers. I ended up wandering for an hour or two, and was quite happy to simply weave through endless hallways of colorful stores and savory-smelling food nooks.


I enjoyed a delicious Lebanese lunch with my cousin Steve and his girlfriend Anastasia, who lived only a block or two from my hostel, and Steve went over the basics of scuba gear—I’ve just begun my Open Water Diver course, and will be doing my training dives with him.

Afterwards I went with Tim, another teacher on my program, to a film screened as part of the Bangkok International Film Festival called “Diamonds.” It was about women in the Asia/Pacific region with HIV, and one of the women featured in the film was in the theatre. She was an Indian woman who contracted HIV from her husband, who her father pressured her to marry through an arranged marriage (her father then stigmatized her for being HIV positive, go figure). Tim and I got up to leave after the Q&A session, but were stopped by a man that informed us another film was screening and gestured for us to sit down. The film was supposed to be about a Filipino written language that was almost lost after the Spanish colonization… I think. The film was almost an hour long, and felt like a drug trip gone sour.

Another thing that caught me off guard was before the movie began, when everyone stood up for a cinematic tribute to the King. That night I also took a few seconds to notice that no one in the busy sky train station was walking, and realized that it was because the national anthem was playing.

That evening was kicked off with a satisfying meal of Mexican food at a joint called Charlie Brown’s, where the owner informed me that cheese was their steepest expense (seriously, what’s with this country’s lack of cheese). We also had some margaritas, which for me is a taste of home. Afterwards, my friends and I all went out to a huge club called RCA or Route 66. I literally ran into half the members of my teaching program there, and was pretty blown away by the series of rooms: one played dance/hip-hop music, one featured some sort of techno, and another had a Thai pop rock performance complete with back-up dancers. The bathroom, a certifiable house of mirrors, had a massive foyer with modern-looking sofas and crazy statues of animals.

By Sunday morning I was running out of steam—carrying my backpack, walking and riding trains everywhere on little sleep… I need to get my traveler stamina back. A few friends and I had breakfast at one of Bangkok’s massive malls (Siam Paragon and Central World are some of the most sprawling malls I’ve ever been to), and slowly began to part ways. I’m really happy to be back and showered, but I’m already looking forward to our next weekend adventure. I’ve also decided I really like Bangkok, in spite of the smog and muggy heat; I love the winding alleys, chaotic traffic, hidden restaurants and markets, lanterns and sizzling food, and all with great public transportation. It’s dirty, messy and awesome.

Loi Kratong

Hey, I wanted share some pictures of Loi Kratong, the river festival our coordinator took us to last night. We lit the candle and incense sticks on our krathongs (little baskets made of sugar cane, leaves and flowers), then floated them down the river as an offering.






The four American teachers demonstrating our sparkler handiwork:

Chonburi Living

These past few days, I've been trying to acquaint myself with my province. So far, Chonburi has proven to be somewhat of a desolate and industrial wasteland, but it's revealed a few hidden gems.

One of said "gems" is a small road we found tucked behind a field, less than a mile from our apartment. It's certainly a locals place, to the point where our presence as farangs (westerners) attracted stares, whispers and even pictures. However, we were so happy to have somewhere to grab dinner and a beer that we decided to go two nights in a row. No one on the street speaks English, so I'm seeing it as an opportunity to practice my Thai.

Our favorite location is an outdoor restaurant packed with locals and dripping with vines, where an elephant is a frequent visitor. Turning around and seeing an elephant in the bar was almost as surprising as noting the other patron's disinterest regarding the elephant's presence. We bought a bag of sugar cane to feed the elephant, and got a good laugh at his manners (he would squeak impatiently if you kept sugar cane away from him, but he was polite enough to throw away his trash). The low point of the evening was seeing a blind man come through the bar and sing for money. His eyes looked sealed shut, and he was led around by the arm—I wondered if he was intentionally blinded so that people would take pity on him as a beggar. I also suspect there's a brothel on our street, since old men emerged from one building with young women in small dresses, and disappeared down an alley. I think it's probably best that I'm exposed to these things now, so that I can (in a kind of depressing way) get accustomed to seeing them. I am strictly forbidden to be politically active, so I need to put this issue aside for now.

My favorite location so far is Bang Saen beach, which is only a 20 minute cab ride away. We met up with a handful of other teachers on our program on the beach, and we enjoyed a lazy day under the umbrellas, strolling on the walk street packed with seafood stands. We were definitely the only farangs for a few miles, and I realized that this was a popular weekend get-away for Thai families. The only downside was the water, which was pretty brown from industrial run-off. I jumped in and immediately got out, because the smell and taste was so foul. Still, I was happy to be back by the sea, it's the only location where I always feel at home.


I loved the evening in Bang Saen, when the entire beach lit up with fireworks and paper lanterns being set off into the sky by Thai families. It was a beautiful sight at sunset. We lit some sparklers in an effort to join the pyromaniacal fun.




That night we had dinner in a local Thai joint, where we met a crazy ex-pat from Australia named Shane, who showed us the ropes when it came to ordering. He was definitely a character, as most ex-pats in Thailand are turning out to be. Being the only Westerner in a new country seems to affect people in good and bad ways, it definitely fosters some quirks. He talked openly about the "ladies" (a.k.a prostitutes) he buys, but also spoke just as candidly about his two daughters who he loves with all his heart (he literally has their names tattoed over his heart).

We went out for the evening, and met some incredibly friendly Thai people at our bar, including one Thai guy with silver shoes and dance moves that rivaled Michael Jackson. It was probably one of the strangest and most fun nights I've had so far, and it ended with some definite transportation issues. I've already decided that I love riding on vehicles where you can feel the wind in your hair, motorbikes and the back of trucks especially.

I start my first full week of teaching tomorrow, hopefully I can really focus my energy and make it through until Friday.