Something About Samet

So for the long weekend (thank you, Constitution day) I finally experienced the white sand beaches associated with the vacation-destination side of Thailand. Ko Samet (some people say “Ko Samed,” I say Thai names simply don’t translate well into English) pretty much embodied island living; plenty shacks and bars on the beach, locals on motorbikes with shaggy hair, and just enough tourists to maintain a resort-y feel but not feel too congested.



We stayed in Saikaew Villa, on what was by far the busiest beach yet felt deserted compared to other popular tropical destinations. The villa where we stayed made its own yogurt, which I have admittedly become addicted to in this country (again, without cheese, I take what I can get). Beach vendors walked down the hot beach selling fruit and sarongs, and they were all covered from head to toe—this was, of course, to avoid becoming too dark therefore unattractive according to Thai standards. Kind of funny, considering that most of the tourists were there to get a decent tan.

Further down the coast, the beach was emptier. There was a nice cove with a raft floating off the shore and an impromptu soccer game with both tourists and locals participating. At night, the trusty Thai obsession with all things ablaze kicked in, and the beach was lit up with multi-colored lights and fire spinners. It was relaxing to finally have a weekend where we weren’t waking up early to fulfill some sight-seeing plan. My “planning” in Ko Samet usually consisted of “maybe I’ll move down the beach at some point” or “perhaps I should shower today.”


On Saturday I finally found an exception to my ability to eat anything, when something (god knows what) caused me to empty my stomach in the middle of the night. I haven’t been sick since arriving, but feeling nausea and stomach pains in the heat of Thailand was different than any illness I’ve ever experienced. I blame food poisoning, but I can’t really be sure. All I know is that I was really thankful I had good friends and people who cared around, because otherwise Saturday night might have devolved into an evening of “why the hell am I here in this hot country that makes me sick where bugs keep biting me etc. etc.” I haven’t felt very pessimistic about Thailand yet, but it’s easy to deteriorate into negativity when you feel like crap.

I’m back to the school grind today, again satisfied with the weekend in spite of my smaller stomach. Since last week we attended a field trip followed by a long break, I already feel like I’ve forgotten how to teach. Some of the older students are finally more relaxed around me, and I feel like kind of a jerk for knowing so few of their names. It’s really difficult for me to retain such unfamiliar sounds, not to mention that I teach about 20 different classes and many Thai people have insanely long names. I’m also trying to get used to the word “porn” in student’s names—Nattaporn, Pornmanus, Tanaporn—in Thailand, “porn” means beautiful… yeah, close enough.

I’m trying to develop a new strategy for my problem classes. I teach a class in prathom six (grade 6) that my fellow teachers coined the “crack children” because the students literally crawl up the walls, run around the classroom, and shout at the top of their lungs for the entire period. I’ve been forced to walk out of class once because I was literally losing my voice and nothing would control them with the exception of a large net and some tranquilizer darts.

I’m learning better ways to get through to them, but in some cases it’s not possible. Some children have slid through their academic career copying off their friends and hiding in the back of class, so they literally don’t know English; at this point, I can’t communicate with them unless they come to me directly. There are others, however, who are good at English, want to be, or just need a little push in order to bring forth their abilities. Sometimes I forget that these kids are all covering complex subjects like calculus because their English is still at an elementary level. It takes a one-on-one conversation for me to remember how intelligent they are, and that what’s inhibiting them is language, not a lack of aptitude. And that’s why I’m here.