Rediscoveries: Silom and Sin Tao

So a couple weeks have passed (how quickly time melts away in this heat), and I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with some really great people. Over the last two weeks I traveled to places I’ve already been, Bangkok and Phuket, but approached them in a fresh way. Last semester I focused on seeing new places, "taking advantage" of the fact that I was abroad… but I’ve come to accept a hokey (yet fundamental) truth about travel and life:

A new experience pales in comparison to a shared experience.

In some ways my life here has been about the cities, the food, the culture, the classrooms... but what brings flavor to my meals? The friends I share and savor them with. What shapes my perception of Thai culture? The Thai people who simultaneously embody and create it. Who brought life to my empty classrooms? My students. And what characterized the towns, beaches and streets that I’ve walked? The strangers I passed, the people I met, and the companions I traveled with. People build and give life to places, not the other way around.

So I took a couple opportunities to spend time with new and familiar acquaintances in some new yet familiar places.

I began my weekend in Bangkok catching up with my cousins, then meeting up with some friends. On Saturday night we attended a Tapas party at a restaurant and bar called “Spanish on 4.” It was located in Silom, nestled on a raucous soi packed with gay bars and tattoo parlors. A friend of mine was DJ-ing for the event, so we prepared at his house just outside the city. Upon our arrival we were swarmed with free margaritas and platters of paella (see below), tortilla de patatas and salchichon. On top of mingling with friends, I met some pretty interesting people, including correspondents from BBC, NBC and AP news. They told me that breaking into journalism in Asia is easier than in a Western country if you’re willing to put in the time to really familiarize yourself with the region.


The next weekend was a long weekend for (yet another) Buddhist holiday, and although I’d originally considered venturing into Burma, my friend told me her dad had a house in Phuket and she wanted a bunch of us to go. All things considered, it could have been a disappointing holiday; thunderstorms racked the island, preventing the quality beach time that pretty much defines Phuket. Yet the time we spent cooking, grilling, swimming and playing games in the house were so entertaining and relaxing that I couldn’t imagine spending my holiday anywhere else. We snacked on rambutans fresh from the backyard, and utilized the kitchen to the fullest extent. The town where we stayed (Sin Tao) also had an unusually local feel for such a touristy island—when we strolled into a local store the Thai women pulled my hair because they didn’t believe it was real. I wouldn’t expect this sort of reaction in an island with so many Swedish tourists, but I realized that inland from the resorts and beaches there are plenty of small Thai communities.





Besides lounging around, I managed to accomplish some of the aquatic activities I’d hoped I would: I went diving and surfing. I did two boat dives to Ko Racha Yai, where I’d dived before, and I was lucky enough to dive with three of my friends. The morning before my flight home, I was determined surf (even though almost everyone else was still sleeping), so I took a motorbike into Kata beach, rented a board, and seized the (rainy) day. The water was incredibly choppy due to strong onshore winds, and I began to worry when I noticed I was the only girl AND the only longboarder. But I had to try. Within one hour I caught two waves, and spent the other thirty minutes fighting my way back to the outside. It was almost worth it just to get that rush of gliding down a wave again, but it was raining so hard I couldn’t really take in the splendor of the moment. Still, it was nice to be back on the board.


This week I’ve been swamped with midterm exams, and squeezing in last minute projects and reviews. These days, teaching is a drastically different experience depending on the day. I have moments when I find the kids so endearing I want to squeeze them like teddy bears, and others when they are so ambivalent and rowdy I want to squeeze them until they pop. I am unsure how to teach children who have absolutely no incentive or interest to learn English. Although I have come across several temptations to continue teaching in Thailand (and with better benefits, salary and location) I don’t want to spend another year as a classroom teacher knowing that this isn’t my calling. I enjoy educating. But I don’t have it in me to force knowledge onto disinterested children, especially when there are people out there who really crave mentorship. Nothing feels quite as awesome as being useful to someone who seeks my help.

Floating Markets

This past weekend I enjoyed an undeniable staple of Thai tourism: floating markets.

It was part of a trip I was asked to helped organize, a weekend excursion aimed at encouraging interdepartmental bonding amongst the Japanese, Chinese, English and Thai teachers. There were no students there, but the Thai teachers still jumped on the opportunity to make a field trip booklet. We were each given a "Making Friends" packet, and everyone eagerly began interviewing each other ("What's your name?" "Do you have any siblings?") in hopes of completing their booklet and winning a toy prize... I resisted the urge to answer the question "What do you dislike?" with "forced mingling exercises," because in spite of my smart-aleck skepticism towards these cheesy bonding exercises I was actually able to familiarize myself with few of the other teachers. As a general rule of thumb I avoid being condescending about the child-like fun that my Thai co-workers engage in; at least they're embracing sanook!


Our first destination was Damneon Saduk in Ratchaburi, the most frequented floating market in Thailand. Tourists are carted to Damneon Saduk by the busload, and the the prices reflect this demographic. I was thankful to be there with Thai teachers, they arranged us a boat tour for thirty baht apiece—I imagine I would be charged at least triple that if I'd attempted to negotiate without them.



For lunch we ate at a well-known local seafood restaurant, and split some classics like Tom Yum Goong (spicy shrimp soup), Khao Pat Goong (shrimp fried rice) and some new dishes like Poo Haaw (steamed crab). The teachers commented on how "high-calorie" this food was, although I'm beginning to realize that some Thai people have a really distorted perception of what kinds of food are the worst. One teacher ate a fudge sundae for breakfast, but refused a bite of my mango sticky rice, insisting "it will make me fat."


The next floating market, Amphuwa, was my favorite. Amphuwah was bustling with tourists as well, but there were still more Thai people there. More importantly, the goods were more original, and most vendors sold crafts that were unique to their store. This was refreshing after Ratchaburi, which featured the same tourist paraphernalia I've seen all over Bangkok.



We took another boat ride in Amphawa, but this time we floated to a temple downriver. I've mentioned being "templed out" at this point, meaning I've seen my fair share of wats and don't feel the need to pursue any more. However, Wat Bang Kung was hard not to love; the temple was smothered in the roots of a banyan tree, which gave it a really wild, ancient look.




I also began a more sincere attempt at communicating with some of my estranged co-workers; many of them are not great at English, but I during this trip I had enough time to speak with them slowly, and paint more complex picture of each of them. Language barriers have denied me a more detailed picture of my Thai co-workers, and I have to admit that I tend to overlook the individuality of the Thai teachers because our conversations can never delve very deep. But just because we can't communicate doesn't mean they aren't interesting people... and I'm determined not to let the language obstacle prevent me from seeing that.

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July, from the land of Thai!

On Friday we had a Fourth of July activity. We taught the kids about the Declaration of Independence, and demonstrated our fight for freedom by kicking the British teachers out. The kids ate hotdogs and had a three-legged race, and my students realized that teacher Rochelle is actually kind of cool because she stuffs her face with hotdogs just as ravenously as they do.






I spent the weekend with my American friends in Kalasin, a small town in Isan (the Northeast region of Thailand bordering Laos). The people in Kalasin were incredibly friendly, and the town was surprisingly clean. Our friends teach at a school in Kalasin, and their co-workers threw a party with karaoke and Thai food on Saturday night, then let us hold a BBQ at their house Sunday. We listened to American music and made pork burgers (the meat is much easier to find than beef). The first few burgers were a little burnt but we got back into the swing of things and felt like true yankees for a day.


I have never felt much in the way of patriotism before I came to Thailand... I always saw the concept of national pride as divisive, pitting one group of people against another based on arbitrary borders. In the philosophical sense, I still feel this way. But I have developed much more sentimentality regarding my home-country since being abroad. I, along with my fellow American friends, often share feelings of nostalgia and appreciation for America that only ex-patriots can really understand. On the flipside, I've also been considering some of the aspects of America that may annoy me upon my return, and the things about Thailand that I'll miss. In many ways the grass is greener in Thailand. But oh how I miss cheese and ocean breeze.