tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79398808343383546952024-03-14T02:35:34.258-07:00Ahjahn AdventuresKorinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-57772102418654800542013-01-28T01:47:00.000-08:002013-01-28T07:04:20.726-08:00My retreat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now that the fight is
over, my hardest applications are in, and I can clear my mind, I decided to
take a trip. Well I didn’t really decide. I needed to renew my visa because the
Philippines only gave me 3 months on a work visa, and I needed it to last until
the end of March. So I had to take a trip to the border to get a visa
extension. P’Sonya knows I don’t like to miss classes, so she told me I could
go during midterm exams when I don’t have to teach, but then there would be no
teachers available to help me (because the Thai teachers have to proctor exams-
teachers can’t miss days when they need to proctor, but if it was a normal
teaching day, they could easily skip class to take me, haha). No problem! I can
speak Thai and take a bus by myself and just do it on my own. Knowing I needed
to make the trip early in January, I didn’t mind that I hadn’t traveled at all
for the King’s birthday or for New Years. I wanted to make this visa run into
my own trip. And it couldn’t be at a better time.<br />
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I left on Saturday morning for Tak, the province East of
Sukhothai that borders Myanmar. As is always the case, my first obstacle was
getting OUT of Sukhothai bus terminal. I took the bus there from Sawankhalok,
and upon my arrival, my old friend/stalker P’Pin was there. It had been almost
a year since I had talked to P’Pin, and I didn’t miss him one bit. He
supposedly works at the bus station, but he is the least helpful person there.
Every time I go, he tells me the wrong bus information, tells me I don’t need a
ticket, and tells me to just sit with him while I wait. The people at the bus
station love me, so the three hours that P’Pin made me wait went by quickly as
I caught up with all the folks I hadn’t seen in a long time. But I was really
annoyed because I kept seeing buses that were definitely going to pass through
Tak and I wasn’t getting on any of them, because P’Pin said that it wasn’t my
bus yet, or that one was full already, or it was going in the wrong direction.
Whatever, P’Pin. So I escaped to go to the bathroom, and found a new friend to
help me get a ticket and get me on a bus, which happened in 15 minutes. I think
I’m at the point where I speak just enough Thai that I’m not completely
hopeless so people know I can get around on my own okay, but not enough to
understand everything that’s going on around me. Hence my 3 hour delay to Tak.
But one hour bus ride later, and I was in the main city of Tak. I called a
teacher from the Philippines that I had met at a competition months ago that
lived in the city and asked her how to get around from the bus station. She
said, “Can you wait there? I’ll be right there.” I insisted all I needed was the
name of a hotel downtown and I could get around from there, but in half an hour
she was at the bus station with her Thai friend and one motorcycle. So the
three of us spent the afternoon riding around the city crammed on her little
motorcycle, seeing everything that Tak has to offer. Vanessa, the Filipino girl, has been living in Tak for 6 years now, and Fern, the Thai girl, her whole
life. But both of them had never been to a lot of the places they took me to.
We started with lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant with NAM NUENG! I was in
heaven; then to the biggest swamp in the city, which is poorly maintained
and kind of an eye sore now, but has so much potential to be awesome; to the
Shrine for Taksin the Great, who was the King of Thailand known for protecting
Thailand from the Burmese way back when (not Taksin Shinawatra, the ex-Prime
Minister who is exiled from the country…not that Taksin the Great, haha); then
to the oldest bridge in Tak in the middle of a rice field; then to the burial
site of people who were sacrificed alive…really eerie and kind of odd; then to
a temple that is also kind of odd because there is a drum that if you rub a
certain way will make a high pitched whistling sound- if you can make the drum
hum like that, your wish will come true but we tried several times until a monk had
to step in to show it how it was done, then asked me to continue the humming,
which I couldn’t do; then to the suspended bridge over the Ping River in the
middle of Tak’s beautiful waterfront- which is Tak City’s one and only famed
tourist attraction- to watch the sunset; then finally to dinner at an American
restaurant where we feasted on pizza, buffalo wings and a salad. It’s a good
thing I got to Tak three hours later than I planned. I was exhausted by our
non-stop sprint through every last inch of Tak. So we took some last pictures
by the bridge, and I headed back to my hotel to get ready for my next
adventure.</div>
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Early in the morning, I headed to the bus station to catch a
van to Taksin Maharat National Park. The van on the way to Mae Sot dropped me
off at the road to the park, where I walked 2km to the entrance gate at 7:30 in
the morning. The guards were delighted to see this little farang girl walk up
to the gate by herself. I asked for a tent, a sleeping bag, and paid the
discounted entrance fee, which went from 200 bhat to 40 bhat for being able to
speak Thai, hopped on the back of a guard’s motorcycle, and he took me to the
campsite. It was PACKED! The sun was still rising, and whiskey bottles were
still out and the campsite was alive with teens, families, and groups of
friends around my age. The guard plopped me down in the middle of the chaos with a
front-row view of the rising sun over the distant mountains separated from me
by a deep valley. He helped me set up my tent, and then I immediately retreated away from the mass of scary Thai people that might
talk to me. I think normally I would be excited to be able to meet Thai people
and practice Thai, but there were so many Thai people and I was the only
farang, and a GIRL farang at that, and the prospect of having to talk to so
many people seemed exhausting. In these situations, I usually get several
offerings for marriage, or at least am forced to promise to bring some girls from America
for them to marry. I usually get a stalker or two that gets my phone number and
calls me non-stop for weeks, and MOST DEFINITELY, I get sucked into having to
teach someone English on the weekends. To avoid all of these, particularly the
last one, I retreated into the forest as quickly as possible. I started on the
only trail at the park, which was a 2km hike to a big tree, then a 1km hike to
a waterfall. This park is famous for this big tree, the Krabak tree which is
the biggest in Thailand. The hike was along the river, and was really
beautiful. It was super peaceful too because I was the only one on the trail
since there is an alternative route that you can drive to then walk down stairs
to get to the tree. The biggest Krabak tree in Thailand wasn’t very appealing
to me, having been to the Redwood Forest in Northern California which I
think is more impressive, so I moved on to the waterfall. Again, another quiet
hike. And this attraction doesn’t have a parking lot, so there was no one at
the waterfall. I’ve been to many waterfalls in Thailand, more than I can count
by now, but this one was the most beautiful one I’ve ever been to. </div>
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I spent an hour at the bottom of the waterfall, with lack of
anything else to do really, before meandering my way back to the campsite. I
had spent about three hours on the hike, and emerged from the forest around
noon to a completely empty campsite. Being a Sunday afternoon, the weekend
partiers had all packed up and left! Whew. What a relief. There was one couple
and a group of three girls that were staying another night, and though our
tents were next to each other, we never really crossed paths. I spent the
afternoon finding different views of the surrounding mountains to read and nap,
the only person I interacted with being the woman at the canteen. It was eerie
to walk into the empty canteen. I felt like I had just missed a party, with
messy plates and glasses still left behind. When I ordered food, she frowned,
wanting to pack up and go home after the weekend rush. But as soon as she
handed me my pathetic mixed vegetables over rice, she gave me a wide smile and
asked me where I was from and why I was traveling by myself. When I went back
for dinner, she smiled wider and asked me more details about what traveling I
was doing. (Then she betrayed me by not opening in the morning- taking a
personal holiday so I got no breakfast. The canteen is the only option for
food, except for the closed mini-store, unless you have a car/motorcycle to
take you to the main road and drive however many miles to the closest
restaurant or store) I was worried about the evening- not out of safety, but
out of boredom. I don’t know if I’ve ever had such a large span of time where I
was by myself, with no cell phone service or internet, and no one to talk to. I
had a great book my aunt had sent me for Christmas about a woman who hiked the
Pacific Crest Trail by herself, perhaps the first woman to do so, and so I
entrenched myself in the book and I became that independent, lonely woman. I
also convinced myself that I should hike the Pacific Crest Trail when I finish
my masters degree (if I get in?!?!) but I’ll probably forget about that dream
by then. Surprisingly I didn’t get bored though! It was great to get absorbed
into a book, something I haven’t done since I lived with my grandmother at the
beach when I was kid, and it was nice to be alone. After the sun went down, I
laid on the roof of the canteen and watched for shooting stars. I got to make
three wishes before heading back to my tent and falling asleep by 8PM. </div>
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That was the first time I was able to sleep through the
night in a tent. I think it was because of the adorable “I love you” pillows
with hearts that the park officer gave me. I woke up 10 hours later just in
time for sunrise. I opened the front of my tent and watched the sunrise over
the mountain cliffs, still snuggled in my sleeping bag. </div>
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Having been betrayed by my canteen lady, I left the park by
8, hungry, and ready to go to the border to get this visa thing finally taken
care of (I was able to do this trip over the weekend because the immigration
office is only open Monday-Friday, so I designed my trip to get me to the
border by Monday). In my planning, getting the van to Mae Sod (the border) from
the National Park seemed as easy as getting dropped off at the National Park
from Tak. In reality, no one actually does that except for crazy farang
traveling by themselves (who probably don’t even do that- I think I am the only
one), and it was a lot more annoying than I thought. The vans pass through
every half hour, but the first two were full already, and not willing to stop
for the crazy farang on the side of the road to try to fit her in which would
be easy to do. They displayed this to me by flashing their lights while I
frantically waved my arms as they sped past. I sat down in the only spot of
shade behind a bush, watching people go in and out of the park, staring at me.
I had been on the side of the road for over an hour, really hungry, when
finally a woman saved my life. She came out of the park on her motorcycle and
asked me where I was going. She carefully instructed me that I cannot get into
a car with any strangers and I must wait for a van. After her instructions, she
was about to go, but changed her mind and told me to get onto her motorcycle
and she would take me to a better place to wait. So she took me to a strawberry
farm where I could stand in the shade and wait, and gave me her number to call
her when I’ve made it safely to Mae Sod. The guys working on the farm one by
one stopped their work to one by one ask me where I was going. Convinced this
wasn’t the right place to wait, they flagged down another girl on a motorcycle to
take me a bit further up the road to another place that was a better idea than
the strawberry farm. This place was a police check point, where we strolled up
with no helmets. That wasn’t the concern though. The concern was if I could speak
Thai, which the girl on the motorcycle insisted I could. So the police took me in, and let me wait and
watch TV with other police that weren’t doing anything. One of them struck up a
conversation with me, asking where I’m from, where I’m going, why I’m traveling
by myself, the usual. Turns out he graduated from SawanAnan 10 years ago, and
was upset there was no one to help me get to Mae Sod. So he gave me his number,
and insisted that I call him when I safely get to Mae Sod, and next time I go
on a trip to tell him so he can make sure I have a friend to go with (this
friend is him, which will probably never happen. At least he didn’t ask me for
English classes) After meeting Yod the cop, I think I now have met more cops
than teachers, which is pretty remarkable for never actually having a problem
where I need the cops. Though if I ever do, I have plenty of cops. Even more
remarkable, this is the first time I’ve met a cop and he was sober.</div>
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Having the police stop the van and insist they take me to
Mae Sod is probably the only way I would have ever gotten to Mae Sod without
hitchhiking on the back of random women’s motorcycles all the way. I sat in the
aisle of the van for the short ride remaining to Mae Sod, and as promised
called my helpers to ensure them I made it there safe. I checked into an
adorable little place called Green Guesthouse, and went to FINALLY get
breakfast. I had heard about this Canadian place in town that had bagels and
coffee (bagels basically don’t exist in Thailand, so this was a surprise), so I
went straight there. Every once in a while, I crave breakfast sandwiches, and
having a bacon egg and cheese on a bagel with a coffee reminded me WHY I missed
them so much. I was in farang heaven. </div>
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There’s actually a lot of farang in Mae Sod, a lot more than
I thought for a small town. Many work here for NGO’s for Burmese refugees. A
lot of them are missionaries, which are easy to spot cause the women wear long
skirts. And there is a small population of tourists like me coming to take care
of their visa, though they usually have someone to take them around, unlike me,
so they don’t actually stay in the city. After finally getting food (and too
much of it), I went to go take care of this visa thing. I had spent weeks
getting the paperwork together with P’Sonya to make sure that everything was
perfect and in order, especially since I was doing this on my own. It took me a
while to figure out where to get the ride to the border, then once at the
border, where the correct immigration office is, then at the immigration office
why everything was closed to find out they were on their lunch break. So I
wandered around to the river that borders Thailand and Myanmar, and marveled at
the shallow depth that keeps the Burmese from crossing over, with a measly
strip of easily hop-over-able barbed wire. And no guards. Well, I didn’t think
about that for too long, because it was 1:00 already and I could go get my visa
extension. Weeks of paper work and three days of (optional) travel to spend
less than ten minutes in the immigration office and be awarded my visa
extension. SO easy! P’Sonya prepared me well. So I spent the rest of the
afternoon shopping at the border market, looking for a good gift for P’Sonya
and the other teachers in the department.</div>
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I was exhausted when I came back into the town of Mae Sod
from the border. After freshening up at my sad little hotel room, I took a
stroll around the municipal market, which is HUGE and incredibly diverse. Mae
Sod is known for its cultural diversity, having goods from Thailand, Burma, hill
tribes, Muslim communities and India. As well as people from all those
denominations. And their diversity of goods are scattered throughout this huge
market. I unintentionally wandered around it for over an hour, trying some
street Burmese food, before taking a rest at a Burmese restaurant that donates
20% of its profits to an NGO. I tried their specialties: Tea leaf salad and
pumpkin curry, which were both out of this world amazing. Then I went back to
the Canadian place to have a glass of wine (farang heaven) before going to back
to the hotel to sleep on the last night of my adventure.</div>
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I woke up early in the morning to try the variety of breakfasts scattered throughout town. After passing some Buddhist monks receiving offerings along the street, I had curry and tea at an Islamic restaurant outside of the mosque, then walked through the market to a Burmese tea shop where I had sweet milk tea with roti and a little sampling of Burmese baked goods. Tummy full of international treats, I packed up my things and walked to the bus station. Van to Tak, bus to Sukhothai, bus to Sawankhalok, with each transfer less than 5 minutes, and I was home in less than 3 hours. Stupid Sukhothai bus terminal. Next time, I'm only speaking English.</div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-27915859390302706152013-01-09T19:21:00.001-08:002013-01-14T07:16:21.423-08:00Words of wisdom from my students<br />
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Excerpts from some holiday activities I did with my students:</div>
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<b>LETTERS TO SANTA:</b></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To Santa,</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">I've been good this
year because I want many friend and I'm beautiful. I'd like to have want to
gift and doll. I pinki promise I will believe in santa and I have happiness
family. Thank santa, and "Merry Christmas". I love you Santa</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;"><i>-Golfpy, M5/5</i></span></span></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To Santa. Hello! My nickname is Sun. I am a good kid because
I feed my dog and my fishs. I want gift. I want go to space. I cook for Santa
in space. Thank you Santa.</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;"><i>-From Sun, M4/3</i></span><br />
<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dear Santa,</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Christmas this
year. I was good for Santa to give a gift to me. THis year, I'm getting a good
job to help the school. Help parents work. And the good of society. I was not
good because I had a gift, but I'm getting better with it. What I want is
wings. Because I want to go wherever. I like birds. Next year I will make good
by being good to parents, and a good citizen.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Hope that Santa
will read a letter.</span><br />
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<span style="background: white;"><i>-From Zee, M4/3</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Dear Santa (Korin),</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">I've been a good girl because I have been studying so hard and get 4.0 grade for many term. I help my parents to take care their job. I talk more polite. I take care other feel more and I help my town to save accident and most problem on flooding's day such as I have made emergenzy toilet for victim. Hahaha!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">So on Christmas Day I want something cool. It may be IPhone 5, extra power, D.I.Y. gift or food. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Next year I promise I will be better than now and I'll love you more. Especially I will not forget to wish something what I want to you. Again and Again.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><i>-From Miw, 3/01</i></span></span><br />
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<o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAKlYaghYkqtdmB_YHa3awv4YkwhTu4c5pQelq4bLJEKt6szuf7dCFYgcXBwMFU-de0ZlEXBN4Z4PdK5gS4IFbe0zs8bG9UZ7NUNk_s59MYUyRJ7LX3T05kmJ0a1RPqng5zuh-3aMp8w/s1600/IMG_1194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAKlYaghYkqtdmB_YHa3awv4YkwhTu4c5pQelq4bLJEKt6szuf7dCFYgcXBwMFU-de0ZlEXBN4Z4PdK5gS4IFbe0zs8bG9UZ7NUNk_s59MYUyRJ7LX3T05kmJ0a1RPqng5zuh-3aMp8w/s400/IMG_1194.JPG" width="400" /></a></o:p></div>
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<b>NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS:</b></div>
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-I promise to love the world; <i>Mod, 4/2</i></div>
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-I want to taller than you (Kru Korin). I’m very low; <i>Frame, 4/1</i></div>
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-I will love my girlfriend forever; <i> Pooh, 5/5</i></div>
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-I will calm down; <i>Pear, 4/01</i></div>
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-I will be eating vegetables but I don’t like it; <i> Ice, 4/1</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->play games</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->travel</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><u>eat eat eat and eat<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->get up late</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><u>loose the weight<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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<i>Mo, 4/1</i></div>
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-Look for real love in Korea; <i>Kanphiram, 4/1</i></div>
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-I’m going to sleep to speed things up; <i>Nan, 5/5</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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-I will play computer games all day all night; <i>Boat, 5/5</i></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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-Stop drink coke. (ToT) (noooo!) <<+ (-- ) (lose
weight!!!); <i>Ing, 4/1</i></div>
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-I do not fear anyone; <i>Boss, 5/5</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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-I want to go to the space in the future; <i>New, 5/5</i></div>
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-forget someone; <i>Miew,
4/1</i></div>
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-I will not copy your homework; <i>Kik, 4/1</i></div>
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-I will use money economizely; <i>Bow, 4/1</i></div>
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-I will have a girlfriend everyday; <i>Big, 5/5</i></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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-Visit Kru Korin at America; <i>Nine, 4/2</i></div>
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-I want to eat cake; <i> Kae, 5/5</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<b>FROM MIDTERMS: the prompt was "Why is it important to protect the environment?" I was worried about this exam, because it's a hard topic for them to write about without dictionaries or notes. But this girl rocked it:</b><br />
<i><br /></i>
Once upon a time, the world is very beautiful and freshy. in the ocean have many sea animal, fish, and colorful sea flowers. In green forest they have long trees. The animal love the world. Suddenly, the god make 1 man and 1 woman. The god said to little humans "Please protect and love your world, it's a last thing that I can do". The god smile and flying to the heaven in blue sky. Little human smile and said "Yes, I will love this world every day!"<br />
But 10 years later from 2 people before 100 people. Many people cut the trees, catching the fish and kill many animal for them fur clothes, them shows, bags and hats. People forgot the god.<br />
Sooner or later the world will be fulled of pollution. People will dead. But 1 little people think "Nowaday we destroy our world, I'm sorry..." He said and cry. "I promise, I will take care and protect you, my world"<br />
<br />
So! I think, I want to protect my world. Because the world will be with me forever! haha! =D<br />
<br />
-<i>Gam, 4/1</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This midterm was following a debate I had set up in my M4 classes about global warming. I split them into four groups: </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">-Scientists that don't believe in global warming, </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">-Scientists that say humans cause global warming, </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">-Average Jo who doesn't know what global warming is, and</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">-Penguins. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">4/01 did an amazing job with this. After two hours of debate and everyone decided the we should all love penguins and let them live in our refrigerators</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> if necessary, the closing comments from the scientists were "Penguins, all of us are trying to save you. Now what are you going to do for help us?" Average Jo chimed in and said, "Yeah Penguins, you do nothing, you just go around and eat fish. You don't plant trees!" The Penguins replied, "If another life is true, I will born to be humans like you. เราเจอกัน" </span></div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-30841260355846022222013-01-07T18:11:00.000-08:002013-01-07T18:22:37.162-08:00A New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I made several New Year’s resolutions this year. This first
was to update my blog!!! Another one was to take a picture every day (which is
easy, I usually take several) and create a photo album of a picture a day to
see what changes happen in my life over the course of this year. A friend of
mine did something like this a few years ago, and I think this is a good year
for me to do it, because 1. this will hopefully be a big year for me if I get
into graduate school for the fall, and 2. I think 13 is a lucky number thus
2013 is a good year to try this out. Of course getting into grad school was on
my resolutions list. We’ll see how that goes. I’ve been pouring my heart into
these applications, and as of today I have sent my heart to Berkeley, MIT and
Pratt, with University of Washington and Tufts in the works.</div>
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My last resolution was to fight in a real Muay Thai fight.
This resolution was easy to fulfill, because I had promised my Muay Thai
trainers that I would fight on New Year’s Day, though the whole time I was
crossing my fingers it wouldn’t happen. I was still scared to actually fight. I
had backed out of my first fight, it having been scheduled 3 days before my
application to Berkeley was due. But I couldn’t back out of my next fight,
which was actually scheduled two days before my MIT application was due. So New
Year’s Day. I fought in my first Muay Thai fight. It required a ton of
training. I was running about 7 miles every morning I had time to, and training
every afternoon I had time to train. Leading up to my fight on January 1<sup>st</sup>,
I was a mental wreck. I was spending every last brain cell worrying about
either my physical preparedness to fight, or my mental preparedness to finish
the MIT application. Both were wearing me down. On top of that, I had broken up
with my newly acquired Thai boyfriend, and so I was also an emotional wreck. It
was a holiday from school, Bryan’s family was visiting from the Philippines and
went on a trip to Chiang Mai for New Years, and I was all alone in our house
for four days…training like mad for the fight and spending every minute in
between writing essays. It was not a fun time in my life.</div>
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For New Year’s Eve, the night before my debut as a Muay Thai
fighter, I went back to some old friends. I had spent the afternoon helping my
first friend in Sawankhalok, Mint, get away from her crazy family. We took an
impulsive road trip to the national park, over an hour away, just to turn
around and drive back because she was worried her parents would get mad she was
gone for so long. So we came back to Sawankhalok and had Khao Soi for dinner.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaF27B5N8mKTGkrl64opLYhIXozA0Yh7TW6xNbBoMn0bNDxY68tlIHMU3Z6ONYDUQO_3iPXYRSXXWsSW8q_aqjIrSYs5VP1J53kdllKovm4bpN5pX59pxdlvWwtX5J8xrR_iUHDMVloQ/s1600/165805_4474906184990_872029386_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFaF27B5N8mKTGkrl64opLYhIXozA0Yh7TW6xNbBoMn0bNDxY68tlIHMU3Z6ONYDUQO_3iPXYRSXXWsSW8q_aqjIrSYs5VP1J53kdllKovm4bpN5pX59pxdlvWwtX5J8xrR_iUHDMVloQ/s320/165805_4474906184990_872029386_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6KcPawmyByoSPAfxPNZNyEhKt0lIvNWrFI_UOEFxkgUIm-1j2XqUjgaN5u8hE4lOf41IAhcyjPWMtfi8hv2b8XHdUnLX9JXhVKnJTfQBbCZIswEmGIHjiT7gq6nDj2gsj9UUZ753pP4/s1600/262677_4474063563925_1123438391_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6KcPawmyByoSPAfxPNZNyEhKt0lIvNWrFI_UOEFxkgUIm-1j2XqUjgaN5u8hE4lOf41IAhcyjPWMtfi8hv2b8XHdUnLX9JXhVKnJTfQBbCZIswEmGIHjiT7gq6nDj2gsj9UUZ753pP4/s320/262677_4474063563925_1123438391_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Then I went to see P’Chompu, and P’Dii, friends I haven’t had time to visit in
way too long. I made up with my boyfriend, though things aren’t the same and
never will be with him. And I spent the passing of New Years with my best ever
friend in Sawankhalok- BaNee. When I knew I wouldn’t be spending New Years with
my boyfriend, and that Bryan would be away, I went to BaNee. She saved my New
Years by inviting me to go to a temple with her for the passing of the New
Year. She picked me up, and three of us, BaNee, her sister and myself, went to
Wat SawangAram around 10PM. Everyone dressed in white, I saw many of my
students and acquaintances from Sawankhalok, and immediately felt welcome.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41TFnuwBHPHRn5_v-3w5mVy5oLBkhErGUl8nM2vHYU8WqoSVdUzc_1HL-prT-LjmcgFv-UWyJLx9_vwt9aZP55BrYRsC9rCFXlKCPasomRCN9Vuk6zxcWYtF0iDz1G6bhXE1y4XJzNBc/s1600/IMG_0886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj41TFnuwBHPHRn5_v-3w5mVy5oLBkhErGUl8nM2vHYU8WqoSVdUzc_1HL-prT-LjmcgFv-UWyJLx9_vwt9aZP55BrYRsC9rCFXlKCPasomRCN9Vuk6zxcWYtF0iDz1G6bhXE1y4XJzNBc/s320/IMG_0886.JPG" width="320" /></a> We
picked up the evening’s prayer books, sat down with me in between my two aunts,
and started chanting. I didn’t realize we would make it through all 40 pages of
the book, but we chanted through the whole thing, BaNee’s fingers tracing
almost every word for me so I could keep up with the quick Thai. After an hour,
I really couldn’t read the Thai anymore, but that didn’t stop BaNee from
leading me through the whole session. The chanting escalated as it approached
midnight. The sounds of the fireworks, the birds chirping in the trees, and the
monk’s echoing voice became almost deafening. Just after midnight, we were
supposed to go into meditation- but I was so distracted by everything happening
around me, plus I didn’t exactly notice it was supposed to be meditation time
because I was busy watching the fireworks and listening to the birds go wild. After
our last set of chants, BaNee rushed me into the temple to go pick up a gift
from the monks, and finally we went home around 1. That was definitely a New
Year’s I’ll never forget.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-fmKaYlDzd_Am6QO_JiCKKPcZtAQxLkBL6QZ_8fm5WkuT1DlpMhSWNF6Gd5aV3Ajyw_HNlCVa6mSCWa_2syuL0nC3to6dN7t77I7a_9Nx8mbZq3hs8tRY28i6SX8-ScLU63aBdolRVE/s1600/IMG_0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-fmKaYlDzd_Am6QO_JiCKKPcZtAQxLkBL6QZ_8fm5WkuT1DlpMhSWNF6Gd5aV3Ajyw_HNlCVa6mSCWa_2syuL0nC3to6dN7t77I7a_9Nx8mbZq3hs8tRY28i6SX8-ScLU63aBdolRVE/s320/IMG_0898.JPG" width="320" /></a>Then came January 1<sup>st</sup>, 2013. Another day I’ll
never forget. I didn’t tell many people I was going to fight- I didn’t tell any
of my students. I didn’t really want anyone to come watch because I was scared
I would get into the Muay Thai ring and have no idea what I was doing. That was
partially true. I got into the ring, and looked around, then turned back to
P’Sua, my trainer, and asked with pleading eyes to instruct me. In my training,
I never actually fought. I never actually blocked. I learned how to kick and
punch and kick and punch, and I could do those things in my sleep now. But
without someone commanding “punch 1, 2, elbow, punch 1, 2, kick”, I had no idea
what to do. But it was okay, because I’m farang. I had all of Thailand on my
side, because I was a farang girl, fighting a Thai girl, in the middle of a
small town in rural Thailand with only 3 months of training. I could hear the
announcers going wild over me and my Thai name, Mali, as I performed my “wai
kru”, the dance to intimidate your opponent before the match. Singh, one of my
trainers, taught it to me only a few hours before the match. Learning the “wai
kru” was one of the most important parts of the Muay Thai fight for me,
particularly as a dancer. There is a set of versions of the dance, and your
trainer usually picks one that represents you best. They all take after an
animal, and mine was a bird. And I performed the shit out of it. I didn’t care
if I lost the match as long as I got my “wai kru” down. And the whole town of
Sri Satchanalai (that’s literally how it felt- I think there were hundreds
watching) was on my side. They went wild over my dance, and my confidence grew
when my opponent didn’t have a dance to return (not everyone does the “wai
kru”, especially if you’re new). P’Sua put my mouth guard in my mouth, and told
me- just 5 rounds. You’ve won already- everyone is behind you. I felt bad for
my opponent. I’ve gotten several versions of her story- that she’s 16 and
fought once before. That she’s seventeen and has fought many times and won
every time. Or that this is her first fight. Whatever her story, she was bigger
than me, prettier than me, and way more experienced. That was obvious in the
first two rounds. I came off the first round exhausted, but exclaimed to P’Sua,
this is so easy! I know she’s winning, but I can do this! I can fight. I was
amazed- even though she was punching me probably with all her strength, nothing
hurt. Punches to the face, knees in the gut- I felt nothing. At the end of each
round, even though she was clearly winning, as soon as the bell rung P’Sua held
his arms up in triumph, turned to his friends and shout “mali’s got this” (but
in Thai) and would run onto the ring to stretch me out. Entering the third
round, I was so tired, more physically tired than when I sprint the end of a 7
mile run. But she was more tired, and I was starting to figure out how to
fight. She could punch, but my knees and kicks, thanks to my 15 years of ballet
training, are better. In the 4<sup>th</sup> round, she surrendered, too
exhausted to continue to fight. I ran to P’Sua and gave him a huge hug before
the referee took my arm and lifted it in victory and walked me around the ring.
I came off the stage to hundreds of cheering fans, my biggest fans being Kirk
and Bryan. People came up to shake my hand, or had their kids shake my hand.
Drunk teenagers wanted pictures with me. And avid Muay Thai followers asked me
to fight at another festival the next night. I was famous. Maybe only for one
night. Maybe only in this small town in Sukhothai. But I was famous.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExgAsYRGAqBgAalvR3wDhE6ri8Vow12xbnBHBQuoUzM2TQxpx5sFVdOQvkYnt8Rv4K8kDWtFuR0qXnuI7YYLQkr0KZ_99D3WjBvxuogz1ocZsZlxvPGz3R0SD-XpNI38JvMNiQnK23n0/s1600/muaythai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExgAsYRGAqBgAalvR3wDhE6ri8Vow12xbnBHBQuoUzM2TQxpx5sFVdOQvkYnt8Rv4K8kDWtFuR0qXnuI7YYLQkr0KZ_99D3WjBvxuogz1ocZsZlxvPGz3R0SD-XpNI38JvMNiQnK23n0/s400/muaythai.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExgAsYRGAqBgAalvR3wDhE6ri8Vow12xbnBHBQuoUzM2TQxpx5sFVdOQvkYnt8Rv4K8kDWtFuR0qXnuI7YYLQkr0KZ_99D3WjBvxuogz1ocZsZlxvPGz3R0SD-XpNI38JvMNiQnK23n0/s1600/muaythai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeRI_ed9r94dcrUaZ-0UvBn9tGkrTEhX8yXaLJvRu1r403mttd3kmWqPhbMVixtIILr9mdSZ-QFgi8ZysUDE0AAgOPbmDeUJVEqOriLustJCGKjSeXRK2gZTZkydJNffhHoA9lR_XNDA/s1600/IMG_0920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeRI_ed9r94dcrUaZ-0UvBn9tGkrTEhX8yXaLJvRu1r403mttd3kmWqPhbMVixtIILr9mdSZ-QFgi8ZysUDE0AAgOPbmDeUJVEqOriLustJCGKjSeXRK2gZTZkydJNffhHoA9lR_XNDA/s320/IMG_0920.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My Muay Thai family, and our New Years party after New Years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</a><br />
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Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-59124313053350072772013-01-07T18:08:00.002-08:002013-01-10T23:13:07.565-08:00Catch UpTo fill in the blanks on what’s been going on in my life
since I went to the Philippines last October, here is a quick update.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I’ve been living with Bryan since the start of the new term,
which has been the best thing ever. I love Bryan and he’s been one of the best
friends I’ve ever had. We tell each other everything, and even though I get
annoyed with how irresponsible he can be, he is the closest thing to a younger
sibling I’ve ever had, and I love having him as a housemate. Bryan and I started
to acquire a bit of a family when the new semester started. The first addition
to the family was my boyfriend. I met BenTen through Kirk. I finally got to
meet Kirk’s Thai roommate, P’Rong, whom I absolutely love, and their group of
friends. BenTen, P’Rong’s closest friend, is my age, single, and cute-
qualities that NEVER exist in boys in Sawankhalok. By default, we hit it off
right away. Within two weeks, we were boyfriend and girlfriend, and he was
spending every evening with Bryan and I.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I think Bryan and BenTen loved each other more than BenTen
and myself. I loved going on trips, just the three of us. BenTen can’t speak
English, and Bryan is still working on his Thai, so their broken exchanges were
hilarious. Every night, if it was getting late and BenTen still hadn’t come
over, Bryan would come downstairs and ask where BenTen was. Usually he was
working or with his friends, and Bryan would always ask “but he’s coming over,
right?” I felt like Bryan’s mom, and BenTen was his new beloved step dad. Then no matter how late, BenTen always came over, marched upstairs and knocked on Bryan's door, yelling "Bryannnnnn! Pom kittueng kun!!! (I missed you)" but he never said those words to me! BenTen
showed us a lot of places around Sukhothai, always ready to be the tour guide.
We went to Sri Satchanalai Historical Park, he met me at the Loy Krathong
festival in Sukhothai, and took me to the Sri Satchanalai ancient times
festival.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQeh4Ozji8TRdICMlwV2GUrlTcl51gmcDk818e3Q_BP78zK0QFYsvDQDsE8hoQc69RllKCQGowEyB_jcCSK8g7ar4JDOz106Ea1VajvqRn66EdqDgIgrnflUb_gYRIhYPPWJHBlZDWwA/s1600/302836_290703327713957_854870078_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQeh4Ozji8TRdICMlwV2GUrlTcl51gmcDk818e3Q_BP78zK0QFYsvDQDsE8hoQc69RllKCQGowEyB_jcCSK8g7ar4JDOz106Ea1VajvqRn66EdqDgIgrnflUb_gYRIhYPPWJHBlZDWwA/s200/302836_290703327713957_854870078_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwo7-6NLnUVL4hRo0BBNfQkdmPGg2lRj6Ap2r_gi8GzJuidUoRdWDCJiW19AN-eNJkXAzono0y21K2J7gyaQfma0xKmQF4DrRj3ipoGKYoFRdRnJd3NnvcRDX_uDo5SvqCnEe54jaDqL0/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwo7-6NLnUVL4hRo0BBNfQkdmPGg2lRj6Ap2r_gi8GzJuidUoRdWDCJiW19AN-eNJkXAzono0y21K2J7gyaQfma0xKmQF4DrRj3ipoGKYoFRdRnJd3NnvcRDX_uDo5SvqCnEe54jaDqL0/s320/love.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
But the best part about BenTen is his HOUSE! He works for the
Minister of Foreign Affairs of Thailand (which he kept telling me about, but I
didn’t believe until I met the guy myself). BenTen is the radio DJ for the
government radio station or something weird that I can’t really translate- but
he has his own radio station on the grounds of the Minister of Foreign affair’s
home, as well as his own little cabin house.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-H59He0Tt2rC1FFveFVjDm5ciYiFTf1VgBOZqy29q6ajchJR0_A2AG4vXiBH88TaLf_gWbBVIIY9D1fKMBlDfRojExrkvGiawFyoHb9tgf0Pe4lvGFK-dbzN9ee9-jXb7ovJ4YmHji4w/s1600/IMG_0129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-H59He0Tt2rC1FFveFVjDm5ciYiFTf1VgBOZqy29q6ajchJR0_A2AG4vXiBH88TaLf_gWbBVIIY9D1fKMBlDfRojExrkvGiawFyoHb9tgf0Pe4lvGFK-dbzN9ee9-jXb7ovJ4YmHji4w/s200/IMG_0129.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">BenTen's home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYMUbw48U6sy5X_7WlJ0J7GD_Q7xJV1GpwErFwixuDsZQFtpksfMA2NzX-D0rfptcXlyNLQN6ylSjgPK5JIVPZj0nMkl2iD4yo1_AyL83JzbHiJ-hYOZXvPs7aK_TbVEdM-DygDOlrS0/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYMUbw48U6sy5X_7WlJ0J7GD_Q7xJV1GpwErFwixuDsZQFtpksfMA2NzX-D0rfptcXlyNLQN6ylSjgPK5JIVPZj0nMkl2iD4yo1_AyL83JzbHiJ-hYOZXvPs7aK_TbVEdM-DygDOlrS0/s200/IMG_0130.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">the radio station</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In addition to his DJ job, which
I’ve watched him do and is the easiest job known to man, he does a lot of upkeep
for the Minister dude and little projects here and there- like hanging up 18
billboards throughout all of Sukhothai with a picture of the Minister’s son
wishing everyone a Happy New Year. To me, things like this still seem weird,
but everyone else in Thailand thinks it’s normal. I also got to meet the dude’s
little brother, who is a big hot-shot that lives in Sawankhalok and loves to
watch rugby. He was excited to meet me and have someone to watch rugby with,
but I’m still waiting for him to call to invite me to watch a game. It’s been
great hanging out with these really important people! They all speak to me in
Thai (though I KNOW they can speak English. It’s the Minister of Foreign
Affairs! He HAS to speak English). And they are very involved with the King’s
projects. When the Minister dude found out I was working on my graduate
application and it involved researching the floods in Thailand, he excitedly
promised to take me to visit a “Monkey Cheeks” project, which is one of the
King’s famous projects to help prevent flooding. Like his little brother’s
rugby promise, I’m still waiting for this to happen…it will happen.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anyway, this guy’s
house is a tropical PARADISE on the outskirts of Sawankhalok. I was spending
every weekend there, writing my grad applications in the middle of a bamboo
forest next to a lake, being served papaya salad or BenTen’s homemade Sukhothai
noodles which are better than any noodles in Sawankhalok. The downside to this
paradise, is everyone loves this paradise, and by 3P.M., someone would show up
with a bottle of whiskey and all work would stop to make way for the whiskey.
Either I’d try to be polite and sit with them while they drink while secretly
still typing away at my essays, or I’d hide in the radio station to continue
working. But usually, my escape was Muay Thai, so I would secretly run away to
go to train.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2l12VBXvEBhWKswP73SBWLwoeaNnCtd4pJRdvuFCXgHxRJ_BhBqYLleVoOHQBDHoeO9MmK4oorzAgMV-2w3qEhUZUCmStTYGtebbv-TzRyKrmC-ylQ4bmmv0SkvegtxM3u1x4Ne5uFs/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2l12VBXvEBhWKswP73SBWLwoeaNnCtd4pJRdvuFCXgHxRJ_BhBqYLleVoOHQBDHoeO9MmK4oorzAgMV-2w3qEhUZUCmStTYGtebbv-TzRyKrmC-ylQ4bmmv0SkvegtxM3u1x4Ne5uFs/s320/IMG_0126.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">som tam lunch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRu1EcoU-pVMoUv_nQF6jO7SiOY_F-0kALF4B9yIiZFPyMhL3qioqWJrkuHh9bSVEuKnYzSS7B5olAyFgh-7sK6EtC8_kSIwJSL5TUDWsRfQv40kF_PENGfi5K2sX1n8qb81xtjIU3xc/s1600/270059_293928224058134_1558094442_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRu1EcoU-pVMoUv_nQF6jO7SiOY_F-0kALF4B9yIiZFPyMhL3qioqWJrkuHh9bSVEuKnYzSS7B5olAyFgh-7sK6EtC8_kSIwJSL5TUDWsRfQv40kF_PENGfi5K2sX1n8qb81xtjIU3xc/s320/270059_293928224058134_1558094442_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">A usual afternoon at BenTen's house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05nSgQHL7Onz-ZR9_citQeaPZsSx_GlDQNneD6Qw3IdlMXM_L0l1gSiScSyx9Ow_CG91EEviJ9cpVUlDM5hsfxBOk3uchQm0qjY3UMDLPhfFCFLjnashX_BcpdSUr_b1TQZkrg1PUeRg/s1600/IMG_1025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05nSgQHL7Onz-ZR9_citQeaPZsSx_GlDQNneD6Qw3IdlMXM_L0l1gSiScSyx9Ow_CG91EEviJ9cpVUlDM5hsfxBOk3uchQm0qjY3UMDLPhfFCFLjnashX_BcpdSUr_b1TQZkrg1PUeRg/s320/IMG_1025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My daughter, nong Ploy, helping me teach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfiHKt7nOGxwQV5fxaesOFx3BHwb5Qs8qupRLlFnRZzVGaYRQj4axD0ZAapnk2eK5r280AEq8Wlwizfn1coazOJ9m3Bz5_oAnwfjLgsE4DGBE_9Sf0bD4CI4uSPqq5COJ1TXS2hZ89OeU/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfiHKt7nOGxwQV5fxaesOFx3BHwb5Qs8qupRLlFnRZzVGaYRQj4axD0ZAapnk2eK5r280AEq8Wlwizfn1coazOJ9m3Bz5_oAnwfjLgsE4DGBE_9Sf0bD4CI4uSPqq5COJ1TXS2hZ89OeU/s320/IMG_0245.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">making Krathong for Loy Krathong at my house,<br />
with Kirk, Bryan and nong Ploy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Around the same time I started dating BenTen, I met nong
Ploy, an 11 year old girl that lives close to my Muay Thai training center. The
first day she met me at Muay Thai, she started calling me P’Suay (Suay means
beautiful, and P is used to address someone older than you, whereas nong is for
someone younger) and followed me to Kirk’s house. The next night, she wandered
to Kirk’s house on her own (she lives close to him), and requested he call
P’Suay to come over. The next day, a Monday, she showed up at my school, asking
students on campus where P’Suay was. She ran into the French exchange student,
who was the only one at school that knew me by my new nickname, and he showed
her where the English office was. And that’s where she came every day after
school. Then we rode back to my house together, and I would either go to Muay
Thai or do some grading. And then we would go out to dinner and I would ride
her to the other side of Sawankhalok to her home. After a few weeks of this, I
was exhausted trying to balance my time with nong Ploy, my new boyfriend (they
hated each other by the way- nong Ploy didn’t think he was handsome enough for
me, and BenTen hated that I was spending my time taking care of nong Ploy
instead of getting my grading done), training for Muay Thai, working on grad
applications, and getting my lessons planned and work graded. It didn’t really
help either that Ploy’s family kind of gave her to me. Every night when I took
her home, her mother said, nong Suay, you can just let her sleep at your house
so you don’t have to bring her home at night! They also requested I take her on the weekends to teach her special English classes. I told them, just hanging out with the farang all the time is basically a 24 hour special class. But after weeks of being her mother, the only words she got down in English were "Ready Freddy? Ready Eddy!" (kudos to Dad), "Come On! Come On!" and "I love you". (My Thai got remarkably better between having a Thai boyfriend and a Thai daughter, who's only words they could say in English were "I love you")<br />
<br />
Though exhausted, nong Ploy was
just filled of so much love and happiness that I couldn’t help but take her in
every opportunity I had. Eventually nong Ploy and BenTen got over their hatred
for each other, and the four of us: Bryan, nong Ploy, BenTen and I were an
adorable family. But par usual, I got stressed out over my work (and mostly my
grad applications), so as the deadline for Berkeley was approaching, and nong
Ploy was constantly on my computer playing games so I couldn’t get work done
when I had the time to, I had to break up my new family. I told nong Ploy she
needed to go home and help her mother. And I broke up with BenTen. Recently, I
found out that nong Ploy got caught stealing from a gold shop in town. I don’t
know the details, because I heard about this from my Muay Thai trainers when
they were drunk on their after New Year’s party, which was a blast by the way.
We all agreed that we saw this coming though. Nong Ploy is always wandering the
streets with other kids whose parents’ work late, and is an experienced liar
and conniver. Despite her loving laughter, nong Ploy had a dark side, and I
wanted so much to keep her away from it. That’s why I let her take up every
ounce of free space in my life during some of my most stressful weeks. But nong
Ploy’s upbringing is stronger than the few weeks she was my daughter, and I
haven’t seen her since that day I told her to go home and help her mother,
except for occasionally when she stops by the Muay Thai center to say hello.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzj1eF8fHb5HXwI2JAUGvG5pV1LrtKt1JlA6VEmce6JcUymYdxFjVZDW8JMlhHmCVIxsKqzoNG277boAGGlMOih6sUCff96xEZCVojoxKAIrLtZFXmXDkQbjQDfj7F9rKNSmTeA8fkLs/s1600/IMG_0119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzj1eF8fHb5HXwI2JAUGvG5pV1LrtKt1JlA6VEmce6JcUymYdxFjVZDW8JMlhHmCVIxsKqzoNG277boAGGlMOih6sUCff96xEZCVojoxKAIrLtZFXmXDkQbjQDfj7F9rKNSmTeA8fkLs/s320/IMG_0119.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanksgiving at my house with Kirk, the French guy and nong Ploy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-1GCxt_s6pkphDa0hJaRZwCd2OwvdU97Q6Z7_zKg0vsiaokMj_ebdNJ8Z_CV6isW1G00PY9r2Iv_ifg3wP5i0K-PjHRUSh0-JdXAGXUDCxiPnTrY5SUdvNeMe47pUUsbZuPPl3GT8ZI/s1600/IMG_0333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-1GCxt_s6pkphDa0hJaRZwCd2OwvdU97Q6Z7_zKg0vsiaokMj_ebdNJ8Z_CV6isW1G00PY9r2Iv_ifg3wP5i0K-PjHRUSh0-JdXAGXUDCxiPnTrY5SUdvNeMe47pUUsbZuPPl3GT8ZI/s200/IMG_0333.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">floating my Krathong</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGePiHe-TiIqWVqTcAf0a__Y10uX_cJN7PKjF68bGiRN7LkBSe9a0YaCk8nBxUI5EqEopnWy_jX5pG_qsa08sG26MVAcO7CvXzyjHIwJpTgNn5WwJNRwdXi0XEKEd5CjVvdQm3wqbKqrQ/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGePiHe-TiIqWVqTcAf0a__Y10uX_cJN7PKjF68bGiRN7LkBSe9a0YaCk8nBxUI5EqEopnWy_jX5pG_qsa08sG26MVAcO7CvXzyjHIwJpTgNn5WwJNRwdXi0XEKEd5CjVvdQm3wqbKqrQ/s320/IMG_0373.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">the light and sound show at Loy Krathong</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To complement the stresses of this semester, I’m thankful
that this is the semester of holidays, class trips, and not really teaching.
That’s been a relief for me in the midst of my grad applications. I went to the
Loy Krathong festival with the Thai teachers, got to see our students win in
the longest-parade-ever, and was met by BenTen and his friends later in the
evening for the midnight fireworks show. The King’s birthday on Dec 5<sup>th</sup>
ended up being a 6 day holiday from school because of other random disruptions
to the rigorous school calendar. I joined my M4 students, a.k.a. the loves of
my lives, to a trip to Chaing Rai and Mae Sai. Mae Sai is the northern most
point of Thailand and borders Myanmar. The students crossed into Myanmar to go
shopping, but I couldn’t because of my visa, so I stayed in Thailand and bought
the same things on our side.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4wiFEBXrOV4a88KQTsrpDkOvNpTBpHQdJGrqe4uo6r_bdbgjqn_nTbu-itHxw7YeYWp2wspX7vCl944hc-G84MjzqicuQw5gxU1aya_24rjldTVes8XTKRRVDO_4AsUdvndEn029qeA/s1600/IMG_0578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4wiFEBXrOV4a88KQTsrpDkOvNpTBpHQdJGrqe4uo6r_bdbgjqn_nTbu-itHxw7YeYWp2wspX7vCl944hc-G84MjzqicuQw5gxU1aya_24rjldTVes8XTKRRVDO_4AsUdvndEn029qeA/s320/IMG_0578.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My M4 students in MaeSai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2vrZ2HRttSXGdtCCLRbweeRdvoueSvhLO_eYvCVo1S3BFVkkwN5jJf81s7HcfRMrwv3MIaSoACeayQ72JojSRFcVH21LlW-yTuFytRkRrSoxxRSjoPVn9PrFdRlui-X5n2SIxtPzqQs/s1600/IMG_0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2vrZ2HRttSXGdtCCLRbweeRdvoueSvhLO_eYvCVo1S3BFVkkwN5jJf81s7HcfRMrwv3MIaSoACeayQ72JojSRFcVH21LlW-yTuFytRkRrSoxxRSjoPVn9PrFdRlui-X5n2SIxtPzqQs/s320/IMG_0627.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nine, Pop, ME! and the French exchange student</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then we went to the White Temple, which I had
visited with Dave last year (wow….so long ago). Though I don’t particularly
like this temple, I love its history and I admire the architect for being so
ballsy. Wat Rong Khun, or the White Temple is a one hundred year long project in the making. The architect wanted to create a large attraction to bring more attention to Chiang Rai, which often gets forgotten being next to Chaing Mai. He wanted it to be something like the Taj Mahal, that it would be a reason for tourists to come to Thailand- to see the White Temple. Some say it is the most beautiful temple in the world. I disagree, but I think it is the most interesting. The architect makes it a point to never take money from any organizations or government, so he can keep the temple in his own vision and doesn't have to uphold any one else's input. He also vows that this temple will always be free so that anyone can come to visit. So, I have a lot of respect for the guy, I just don't like the temple, which made up the last stop of our Chaing Rai trip. '<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4h2ndvbBdfqB4CknTcyjMa7OQG51hvGnIi4NPIDNgGaKNS2PLI0gDFgE4fviPDs7OQ2JUGKwWDbv2Fe7JM8yM_I1LCQe8JeKrw-6G3EE7F_bKgqlTSyumAnqV6AfMAbjgptSIafSVEcY/s1600/IMG_0619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4h2ndvbBdfqB4CknTcyjMa7OQG51hvGnIi4NPIDNgGaKNS2PLI0gDFgE4fviPDs7OQ2JUGKwWDbv2Fe7JM8yM_I1LCQe8JeKrw-6G3EE7F_bKgqlTSyumAnqV6AfMAbjgptSIafSVEcY/s400/IMG_0619.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My farang loves, Kirk and Antoine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The trip was super quick, less than 24 hours
long, more than half of which were spent on a bus. But I had so much fun with
my students and will sacrifice any number of uncomfortable nights on a bus to
go on a trip like this with them again.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22eL8ubhFGk-ubt1thRqgMhxzARygozNs4egvO78HkRKCRlNUbbd0ZKKi_yNb4eB3cQctxahPPU1DazsvR2BiyziAnjTfn1o0RDaQ8vYwPoNbB9oxyJhWpzYS7DYZ8IvoVr9h15bOJMA/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22eL8ubhFGk-ubt1thRqgMhxzARygozNs4egvO78HkRKCRlNUbbd0ZKKi_yNb4eB3cQctxahPPU1DazsvR2BiyziAnjTfn1o0RDaQ8vYwPoNbB9oxyJhWpzYS7DYZ8IvoVr9h15bOJMA/s400/IMG_0600.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M4/01 and M4/1 on the bus ride home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Another great thing that happened this term was that my
older cousin, P’Aut came to visit me. Over a year, and no one from America had
come to visit. So when I found out P’Aut was coming to Thailand for a few
weeks, I convinced him he had to make a stop in Sawanakhalok. And I think he
fell in love. (Not with a person!! Just with my town). One of the teachers took
us to both historical parks, which was exhausting to do in one day, and then at
night we hung out with P’Rong and the gang, who at that time I was just getting
to know myself. The night before P’Aut left for Phuket, we went to P’Rong and Kirk’s
house after the bar and hung out on his roof until the wee hours of the night.
It was so cool to have someone from home visit me, even though I’m not very
close with P’Aut. Since his visit though, I feel like we’re real cousins now,
and we talk all the time. And now I talk more and more with his parents too.
Coming to Thailand, I had really wanted to learn more about and be closer to my
family. It hasn’t worked in a lot of ways, but at least in this way it has.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU71eKf9Lpb7Ag8EHVDMTDRgsG8OEAYi0XBVFDlwDO8IXsD5K0YhIttEAdXpk9oVkedpIiT6OccTiMApVnGGzshs_tNliISa4Y645GN4dH17MCFuPRe4g40mPSWbWXHkGvb1TcYYd-kWc/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU71eKf9Lpb7Ag8EHVDMTDRgsG8OEAYi0XBVFDlwDO8IXsD5K0YhIttEAdXpk9oVkedpIiT6OccTiMApVnGGzshs_tNliISa4Y645GN4dH17MCFuPRe4g40mPSWbWXHkGvb1TcYYd-kWc/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Around the holidays, I was starting to get my first real
bout of homesickness. I was jealous that Bryan’s family came to visit him from
the Philippines (his mother, his younger sister and her boyfriend were
visiting), and I was mad at myself for not letting anyone close to me. As I
always do when I’m stressed, I had pushed away everyone I was close to: I
pushed nong Ploy away, I pushed BenTen away, and I got annoyed with Bryan, my
best friend, for having his family come to live with us for a month without
properly taking care of them, leaving me to do it on top of the other things I
was doing. I love them all from when I visited the Philippines in October, and
I spent every free minute I had making sure they got to see the best parts of
Sawankhalok. As we have learned, Bryan is not the best tour guide, so it was up
to me to take them around, which was frustrating, time consuming, and made me
really wish MY family would visit so I could show them how cool Sawankhalok is.
So as the holidays came around and I had pushed everyone away, I felt really lonely.
But my students saved me. I had to choreograph a dance to show for Christmas
Day, which was just another thing I didn’t have time to do in the midst of
everything else that was going on. I only had about two hours with each class
to put it together, but we put on, I thought, an awesome show. I had three of
M4 classes dance to “All I Want for Christmas is You” which was wild and had a
total of about 120 students in it.<br />
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<br />
Then my M3/02 class, which is one my
worst-behaved classes, requested to perform break dancing. So I put together a
short dance to “That Girl is Poison” and my break dancing boys soloed while the
rest of the class did an easy dance in the background.<br />
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<br />
Those performances were
the best Christmas presents ever. Though I grumbled through all the practices,
watching it come together was awesome, and reminded me that I love what I’m
doing (and I love teaching dance!)</div>
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Then New Years came. We had another holiday from school that
I was reluctant to travel for so I could focus on my applications, I was
getting worried about my Muay Thai fight, and BenTen was making me cry. But my students
came to the rescue. My M4/2 students wanted to countdown to the New Year with
me, but I figured that they didn’t ACTUALLY want to do that, so we settled on a
New Year’s party at my house instead, the weekend before New Year’s. I spent an
entire day not on my MIT application, but instead on decorating my house and
making pasta (they requested pasta, which I tried to make as accurately foreign
as possible, but then had to add some hot dogs to make it a little appealing to
Thais) with three of my students helping. At three in the afternoon on Saturday
December 29<sup>th</sup>, the New Year’s party commenced, and my students
rolled into my driveway on their motorcycles, with gifts and snacks in hand. We
had a gift exchange, a balloon popping contest (where you rubber band a balloon
to your foot and you try to pop each others’ balloons by stepping on them),
some other games, and of course some dancing. As the party trickled down, I was
left with 6 or 7 students that didn’t want to leave my house, so we played
apples-to-apples and listened to music for an hour until I shooed them out of
my house so I could train for Muay Thai. It was, I think, the coolest thing I
have ever done in Thailand. Training Muay Thai, hiking mountains, crystal clear
beaches, have nothing on these students. I never thought I would be a teacher,
but apparently I’m really enjoying it!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rYouhavulOeNSbi0RJKEI-Tj7vqxG9WSdZkvQuu5EQy0r9Z_lKpUNn1LSOaqpPoJ-BgDqcb72TW-NV5xbcWd209FFCvJCRBFyjCgwOXkbEQxaMc7tBa5XdiWPdRamayKpX8wlZOIx24/s1600/406051_484263131616902_1586285870_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rYouhavulOeNSbi0RJKEI-Tj7vqxG9WSdZkvQuu5EQy0r9Z_lKpUNn1LSOaqpPoJ-BgDqcb72TW-NV5xbcWd209FFCvJCRBFyjCgwOXkbEQxaMc7tBa5XdiWPdRamayKpX8wlZOIx24/s200/406051_484263131616902_1586285870_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZfNVG4Mk0lHeDbVHVsv2pJ4b3jHtFvxdwDkSKTT9W-hoAfSEAREFDiN-8r-OCSaO16Cn0GjQkFZXwGPTH3D-pmp9EfF8ar7_as2L10pnJ6EAR4Ir9Xlu9I-dpjrAYbsHzub2-C0LEHc/s1600/IMG_0877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZfNVG4Mk0lHeDbVHVsv2pJ4b3jHtFvxdwDkSKTT9W-hoAfSEAREFDiN-8r-OCSaO16Cn0GjQkFZXwGPTH3D-pmp9EfF8ar7_as2L10pnJ6EAR4Ir9Xlu9I-dpjrAYbsHzub2-C0LEHc/s200/IMG_0877.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lN4ZUeD6i_4yMToHznYqATrKR7Db0PvPwEH8MIo-pfOY8IyAH-og92zrqZQd1HTi2Lru6WPqa35NewHNh7zRnZB7gYwl9FASjggdHJjv_s5fJUSgOleycPyscA-_f99soVDIVglP5M4/s1600/71651_484263774950171_2424715_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lN4ZUeD6i_4yMToHznYqATrKR7Db0PvPwEH8MIo-pfOY8IyAH-og92zrqZQd1HTi2Lru6WPqa35NewHNh7zRnZB7gYwl9FASjggdHJjv_s5fJUSgOleycPyscA-_f99soVDIVglP5M4/s200/71651_484263774950171_2424715_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1ztGCqOPZzfkvbZbNGUu6ZE59iDCfOi_Om6RnV7gb6QYMK3wgga__xU03LN-2YLzZMSzCnZCcrlgBaFwtDvOjx7yeOrZXr8CsvJazk2tbE96D62xDVRQpY4B4EVFnhhmtOr8Y9r4laU/s1600/IMG_0868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1ztGCqOPZzfkvbZbNGUu6ZE59iDCfOi_Om6RnV7gb6QYMK3wgga__xU03LN-2YLzZMSzCnZCcrlgBaFwtDvOjx7yeOrZXr8CsvJazk2tbE96D62xDVRQpY4B4EVFnhhmtOr8Y9r4laU/s640/IMG_0868.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-28833165484548876042012-10-22T03:39:00.002-07:002012-10-23T08:15:34.259-07:00It’s more fun in the Philippines.Kinda cheesy, but it’s kinda true too. Spending a week in
the Philippines was a perfect vacation. For our one month holiday from school,
the F team took a week to go to the Philippines to visit Bryan’s family and do
some touring.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When we got off the plane on Luzon Island, Bryan’s mother
picked us up and took us to his home town, Cabanatuan City. And what’s the
first thing that we do when we get there? Well, after going to the mall,
because that’s what people in the Philippines…and all of Asia do, I impulsively
decided to dye my hair dark brown. Which sounds fine, and sounded like a great
idea to me at the time- I haven’t dyed my hair, gotten any piercings or tattoos
in a long time, so I’ve been itching to do something different. So I thought
dark brown would be harmless…until Bryan’s friend that was dying my hair
decided to go shopping right after she put the dye in, so she left me in her
hair studio for over an hour while she went to buy a dress. By the time she got
back to wash out the dye, my hair was BLACK. I kind of don’t like it at all,
but I’m gonna make it work. So day one in the Philippines, and I have black
hair. (by the way, one week later, I found out the woman who was dying my hair
is not just a slightly masculine woman, but is actually a transvestite, and I
can’t believe it took me a week to realize that) Yup, it’s more fun in the
Philippines.</div>
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Day 2!! Turns out that Bryan is a baller. When we turned
down the street into his neighborhood, we were passing little tin shacks, some
with grass roofs, none with electricity. Some with goats! All with chickens and
kids. I got worried, hoping they wouldn’t have to accommodate three more guests
in those crowded little shacks. Then the driver stopped in front of three big
mansions, smack dab in the middle of the shacks. His and his cousins’ houses
are huge, comfortable, tasteful and beautiful. And they have a baby pig!!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX1NfaM-68NRJVOjjKVXu1HGj93Yex-oSlEtlWhD7l8LrT8vOHumIjOUF53ledae-FW0bX5e-HCvnWhH6q0M9EAcWdrqxMs7B4zYOKaYzF815XyRFz8ZYN6ArRnlc0CqeiwZsyZBOceY/s1600/IMG_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX1NfaM-68NRJVOjjKVXu1HGj93Yex-oSlEtlWhD7l8LrT8vOHumIjOUF53ledae-FW0bX5e-HCvnWhH6q0M9EAcWdrqxMs7B4zYOKaYzF815XyRFz8ZYN6ArRnlc0CqeiwZsyZBOceY/s320/IMG_0626.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEFX0Gli6MYZ0rbt_2bdAq1elVAayLXU3u0t7Ttr7uC0DugHMyXfKfFj3GGE1l6C2P0UvQLPC9aai9ii0L5Di-nQryY3t1X6B8w8nA36zdG4a5ksT-8Brd25dpJAmhK-KLqq2EK9EWBg/s1600/IMG_0589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEFX0Gli6MYZ0rbt_2bdAq1elVAayLXU3u0t7Ttr7uC0DugHMyXfKfFj3GGE1l6C2P0UvQLPC9aai9ii0L5Di-nQryY3t1X6B8w8nA36zdG4a5ksT-8Brd25dpJAmhK-KLqq2EK9EWBg/s320/IMG_0589.JPG" width="320" /></a>On
Sunday morning, we woke up at 4AM to go for a crazy hike to a waterfall in a
mountain a couple hours from Bryan’s home. For two dollars, we hired a tour
guide with a machete to clear the path to the waterfall for us. We were
struggling to keep up with his slowed pace (though Bryan did surprisingly well,
considering last time I went hiking with him I had to carry him half way down
the mountain cause his legs were shaking) and had to climb some crazy walls to
get to the top of the three-tiered waterfall. It was a short but pleasant and
challenging hike. I know I say this a lot, but it was the most real hike I’ve
been on, in that there were no man made aids, we had to use tree roots to pull
ourselves across the cliff walls, and the man had to hack half of the trail
with his machete for us to pass through. I like the Philippines.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15J4X2ofzj6mstDt8BLID4M1gaHcYzSCQgJIzauiWHpbzubea0p0EtmEtVNlIsQ_OkvzlN3eSPAh1_q6g251mTaPAKotwXnude_OwOUuf0j3XBNTV-pYUy2-TG_lD61w2C8IZedCASco/s1600/IMG_0613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15J4X2ofzj6mstDt8BLID4M1gaHcYzSCQgJIzauiWHpbzubea0p0EtmEtVNlIsQ_OkvzlN3eSPAh1_q6g251mTaPAKotwXnude_OwOUuf0j3XBNTV-pYUy2-TG_lD61w2C8IZedCASco/s320/IMG_0613.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This dinosaur definitely needed a hug-- at the resort at the base of the mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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In the afternoon, we went back to the mall we had been in
the day before to watch Bryan’s younger sister in her first modeling gig. It
was really cheesy, poorly put together, poorly judged and an overall
disappointment. Bryan’s sister is a beautiful girl, but she didn’t have the
terrible bounce all the other models have, because she walked like a real
model. But they like the stupid fake bounce walk here in the Philippines, so
the judges didn’t score her favorably. Apparently this comes from the booming
gay population in the Philippines, and they love the bounce walk, so that’s
what all the models do now. Anyway, we spent the entire afternoon in the mall
and made me sick for the rest of the trip because my fragile little body can’t
handle that much air conditioning after an overnight bus followed by a flight.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Day 3!! Monday! To Manila, the capital of the Philippines. I
spent the entire morning in the Thai embassy applying for my work visa, then
the entire afternoon in ANOTHER mall. P’Tara has a Filipino cousin that works
at one of the huge malls in Manila, so we went to meet her (P’Tara’s first time
meeting her ever!) and she is adorable. She got us free tickets for the cinema
and a ton of free popcorn, so we watched this hilarious film about a transvestite
who is trying to steal “her” ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend by going back to
being a boy, so that “she” can get “her” ex-boyfriend back. Gay culture is
seriously taking over, and it’s hysterical. Then more embassy bullshit, blah
blah blah. The embassy there really wanted to keep me in the Philippines. But
after hours of phone calls and emails, they permitted me to return to Thailand.
Thought I was going to get stuck in the Philippines! </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To end our only day in the capital, we met up with Bryan’s
friends on the Manila Bay where we went to an all you can eat buffet with WINE.
I was so happy to have “unlimited” wine (they call things “unlimited in the
Philippines. Maybe that’s not so weird, but I still laugh every time I hear
it). Bryan’s friends all know each other from doing theatre together,
particularly improv, and are quite possibly the funniest people I’ve ever met.
And their names are Divine, Moon and Rein. And this is their real,
given-at-birth names, not nicknames or anything. Then there’s Bryan. It was
awesome talking to them to realize that Bryan is as clueless and unfocused with
his Filipino friends as he is with his American friends. He answers their
questions wrong, doesn’t listen, and doesn’t follow simple instructions whether
it’s in English, Tagolog, or Taglish. So now I don’t feel bad and think that
sometimes Bryan has a hard time understanding us when we speak English.
Although his Filipino friends speak English better than he does, and make fun
of him for his Filipino accent, and it’s kind of funny that he’s the English
teacher. But we all love Bryan anyway.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlq97tB2voNHWayAFJBoyx7Iw1LPWEDZN7QV_xJrNGUtx1Gj_O5Rn_dyB2enCpNye3L3tvyjUB3bJCi4GffffwdkmI_0UAe6gQoe6dlZ6OHNTiYqJ1sxXUVf2ybqlSdaNBX56Qg8SwYXM/s1600/47432_4396937235312_1230901421_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlq97tB2voNHWayAFJBoyx7Iw1LPWEDZN7QV_xJrNGUtx1Gj_O5Rn_dyB2enCpNye3L3tvyjUB3bJCi4GffffwdkmI_0UAe6gQoe6dlZ6OHNTiYqJ1sxXUVf2ybqlSdaNBX56Qg8SwYXM/s320/47432_4396937235312_1230901421_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
We ended the evening with a ride on what
Bryan claims is the largest ferris wheel in Asia, which I told him was wrong
because I went on the tallest one in Asia when I was in Japan. Turns out it’s
just the largest in the Philippines. And it’s actually quite small.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Then we were on the road, ready for our big road trip around
Luzon Island! We picked up a friend of Bryan’s on the way. But of course Bryan
doesn’t tell us this. We stop on the side of the road in ghetto Manila, some
guy hops into our van, and we continue driving. After a few minutes, I ask
Bryan, is he coming with us? Bryan just says “yup”, casually as ever. Another
long awkward pause. “So, nice to meet you, I’m Korin. What’s your name?” And so
Martin, Bryan’s friend from University was coming on our trip as we were
heading for rice terraces, island hopping, volcano hiking and a day on the
beach over the course of four days before retrieving my passport from Manila on
Friday. Gora! (that means “let’s go” in gay Tagalog)</div>
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<br /></div>
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But before we go, I want to lay out some interesting
differences between Thailand and the Philippines. I know you shouldn’t compare
places but I’m going to do it anyway. (Of course these are complete
generalizations that were gathered over the course of a one week visit). You
can skip this part if you don’t care =P<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-FILIPINO PEOPLE.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone in the Philippines smiles. I know people call
Thailand the “Land of Smiles”, but that’s not true. People smile more and are
much more polite in the Philippines. Every gas station, restaurant, even pulis
(police) officer brightly smiled at me and said good-morninnng maam! And yes, I
was maam for a full week. And this wasn’t even because I was a tourist- because
with black hair I actually got mistaken for Filipino a couple times!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-The THAI TUK-TUK vs. The FILIPINO TRICYCLE.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tricycle totally wins. Sorry Thailand.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNpeznQd9mQaE3aBE3zI01G1_9bHWzYsXrfnNQ0RMiKhnkPMnCZZ3BUFUfuAdlU7rjwUW2tYBmuYBCwQPFQ1hNVJ0ln0u0eknS8AFNYKOZ2DdD0pKqyV-ApfwgAgT1ZSu9SIunoyiUDM/s1600/IMG_0757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNpeznQd9mQaE3aBE3zI01G1_9bHWzYsXrfnNQ0RMiKhnkPMnCZZ3BUFUfuAdlU7rjwUW2tYBmuYBCwQPFQ1hNVJ0ln0u0eknS8AFNYKOZ2DdD0pKqyV-ApfwgAgT1ZSu9SIunoyiUDM/s320/IMG_0757.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There is also this thing called the “Jeepney” all over the
Philippines. They’re old U.S. military jeeps from WWII that have been converted
into a flashy, brightly colored mode of transportation used mostly in the form
of a taxi service. They’re outrageously awesome. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS59GjTzEVS3bUrsnzf_7TAbKGu5zGoG85y9pRHq-efxjwUt0kCWSrvrE9D277WfBVLoNvsrWqVIN8jmzQ_G1DctxRlMSsaNWVcoCpZBtKE8ewIzYQd7RWPf_wVhYD585VDPpmA7AwryU/s1600/IMG_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS59GjTzEVS3bUrsnzf_7TAbKGu5zGoG85y9pRHq-efxjwUt0kCWSrvrE9D277WfBVLoNvsrWqVIN8jmzQ_G1DctxRlMSsaNWVcoCpZBtKE8ewIzYQd7RWPf_wVhYD585VDPpmA7AwryU/s320/IMG_0661.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
-DRIVING.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Filipinos are crazier drivers. Being in a car downtown for
the first time, I felt like I was in a movie in a large Indian city- it felt
that hectic, crowded and chaotic. But it seems like there’s more accidents in
Thailand. I think Thai's just don't pay attention when they drive. But then later in the trip I found out that the driver we hired used
to be a racecar driver, which definitely explains the videogame feel every time
we were on the road, and the multiple times we almost died or killed innocent
pedestrians. But I did feel totally safe with him- he was in complete control
weaving in and out of traffic at insane speeds and overtaking a car while it
was overtaking a motorcycle.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-COLONIZED COUNTRY!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Holy crap what a difference it makes. So quick history
lesson of things I hope you know already (but I didn’t before I met Bryan) is
that the Philippines was colonized by Spain, then America, then we gave it to
Japan, then took it back from Japan. And I, being anti-colonization, am quick
to point out that Filipinos have been robbed of their heritage and are stuck in
an awkward balance of colony vs. tradition, but they have to deal with it three
fold from Spain, America and Japan. It makes for a very interesting country
full of Spanish, American and Japanese products, and also a lot of Korean
things for a reason I haven’t figured out yet. Their blends of Spanish and
American art-deco architecture is awesome, but has NOT EVER been maintained and
all their buildings look vacant and sad. Then you walk into this rusted, unlit
building and you’re in the middle of a mall. Again, a poorly maintained, dimly
lit, smelly mall, but the building is in fact not vacant! I think they were
doing well economically in the 60’s and 70’s when these styles of buildings
were cool and they must have developed massively back then, and then stopped
doing anything when their economy went downhill. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
- LANGUAGE.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the most fascinating thing about their whole
colonization deal. Tagalog is hilarious. Though it’s the national language,
it’s really only spoken on a small part of Luzon island. Tagalog is a mix of
Spanish, English and native words. Sometimes they count in Spanish, usually
it’s done in English, and Bryan doesn’t even know how to count in Tagalog. It’s
so funny to listen to them speak, especially if you know Spanish. I can tell
what their talking about most of the time because there is so much Spanish and
English. Or the driver will be on the phone with Bryan and I will hear him say
“you talk to the Americans” in the middle of his Tagalog sentence. So funny. Then
when Bryan doesn’t want us to know what he’s talking about, he switches to gay
Tagalog. It’s the new language of the Philippines that they gays are making up,
but a lot of gays aren’t fluent in. Though “real men” can sometimes speak gay
Tagalog too. Pure Tagalog is seriously dying out. Even the ATMs offer only “English”
or “Taglish” as their language choices. And in the provinces, kids learn their
dialect first, English second and Tagalog last. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
-TOILETS.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The squatter toilets don’t happen in the Philippines.
Instead, all of their toilet bowls don’t have the cover seat thing that you sit
on, so it’s just like having a squatter toilet cause I don’t want to sit right
on the bowl, but its more awkward because of the height and it’s just weird plus
they all have the tanks so they can flush, but then they’re almost universally
all broken so you have to bucket water in anyway. They should just stick with
the squatter toilet and skip all the potential upkeep since they don’t do it
anyway.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-FOOD.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s really hard to
go from Thai food to Filipino food. I don’t recommend doing that. That’s really
all I have to say about Filipino food. And it’s really meat heavy. I do like
their rice though. Especially in places where the rice is “unlimited” because I
still think that’s a really funny word to use with food. They do eat a
ridiculous amount of rice, which is weird to say because I eat rice three times
a day, but for some reason it’s even more in the Philippines. Because it’s more
fun? <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7E7yimBwoHC__cz2uNrOD24HdJXS9zX7UtZL-YxAEUmJ4GcU7KA7lXW-hBnYxQRRcKaBGgDly0zDl776AidgK9I73N0zvC16hDx9UP9o6XqjA5lL9ALtLlMkiNT09EnCjKYBy4mDBL4/s1600/IMG_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7E7yimBwoHC__cz2uNrOD24HdJXS9zX7UtZL-YxAEUmJ4GcU7KA7lXW-hBnYxQRRcKaBGgDly0zDl776AidgK9I73N0zvC16hDx9UP9o6XqjA5lL9ALtLlMkiNT09EnCjKYBy4mDBL4/s320/IMG_0630.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One day old chickens is a popular dish here, <br />
as well as boiled chicken fetus</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-ECONOMICS.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s hard to say who is more developed, who is developing
faster. It’s hard to evaluate and not really fair to anyway. Just some
interesting things: the Philippines still harvest their rice by hand and water
buffalo, whereas it’s almost all mechanized in Thailand. Costs of food,
clothing and accommodation are relatively the same. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
-RELIGION.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was really strange to be in a Christian country. They’re
SUPER Christian. Majority Roman Catholic I think. And there are churches
splattered EVERYWHERE! On the first day, Bryan showed us the Ingelsia ng
Christ, and confidently stated, “but they aren’t Christian”, to which everyone
in the car, including his mother, replied, “actually Bryan, they are Christian.
It’s the Church of Christ”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
-BEER.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is cheaper and better in the Philippines. As much as I love
and will always love Chang, Red Horse beer is rich and tasty, and is for “real
men”…which is why Bryan doesn’t drink it, hahah.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6IvA7UaY2zvOSI3M48-6wl_h5h1utGL4b9P4euJMcR0bGsmVNY_n0f6NA_HJw_ZTrm0Fl1aFWk1mmuwnvfx_a3lFy9xVPVVRifz2CZp4ej4giFhBHMEZEM-oIgKt0Fhq-QKhyfstq-Y/s1600/IMG_0586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6IvA7UaY2zvOSI3M48-6wl_h5h1utGL4b9P4euJMcR0bGsmVNY_n0f6NA_HJw_ZTrm0Fl1aFWk1mmuwnvfx_a3lFy9xVPVVRifz2CZp4ej4giFhBHMEZEM-oIgKt0Fhq-QKhyfstq-Y/s320/IMG_0586.JPG" width="320" /></a>Okay, enough comparisons. So Monday night at midnight, we
headed on our journey. Our first stop was 10 hours north of the capital to
Banaue. This town is super duper famous for its historic rice terraces, once
the eighth wonder of the world, that was constructed over 2,000 years ago. Its
indescribably breathtaking and humbling, to see something created by hands in
almost prehistoric times, and is still functional and perfectly maintained
today…unlike art deco. This was probably the hardest part of the trip,
definitely for me because I had a fever and disgusting cough from all the darn
air conditioning, which was only exacerbated with the two hours of traffic we
encountered on side of a mountain at 3 in the morning. Where else does that
happen but in Asia? But those windy, one-lane because of slow moving road
construction, and unlit roads keep hordes of tourists from visiting this world
wonder, and really should have deterred us too. But we sat through that traffic
on the way up and way down, leaving only a couple hours to breathe in the beauty
before it got too dark to head back down the mountain. Rumor has it, the Banaue
villagers believe you’ll bring bad luck to the whole village if your run over a
chicken, plus those roads are beyond scary even in the daytime, so it was
necessary to leave…only after taking pictures with an 80 year old woman dressed
in the traditional costume of the village who just happened to be walking up
the mountain by herself. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-pytYwUmokn7mvlNWK3LOxIbNUcFov5_70_mBNwHp-RAHCn6H9DY8RFkB-3rWwAuFeUtUKSLuqBMg-O9nHzV7_Jegzwc_16Mk5Ao8OV-Ms09nxnBLsA6ZZPY_J27H8WpEhnQW7bA7t4/s1600/389514_4396942115434_1683727260_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 13px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-pytYwUmokn7mvlNWK3LOxIbNUcFov5_70_mBNwHp-RAHCn6H9DY8RFkB-3rWwAuFeUtUKSLuqBMg-O9nHzV7_Jegzwc_16Mk5Ao8OV-Ms09nxnBLsA6ZZPY_J27H8WpEhnQW7bA7t4/s320/389514_4396942115434_1683727260_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhop8BLPdxTo5nTCynEa7E7SpYoSc4nYz0wzrRA6a3yEJEI568g9Swq_beVr7PH4DOY156555bJTVZ71EwrirP-EneWj6pTw6xHYJtBM2PgcqEqDPpB_p4lpF-hRi3B5s1xT3XEr-LPHcs/s1600/IMG_0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhop8BLPdxTo5nTCynEa7E7SpYoSc4nYz0wzrRA6a3yEJEI568g9Swq_beVr7PH4DOY156555bJTVZ71EwrirP-EneWj6pTw6xHYJtBM2PgcqEqDPpB_p4lpF-hRi3B5s1xT3XEr-LPHcs/s320/IMG_0800.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our amazing driver drove through the second night in a row
to get us to Alaminos City, the port of the 100 Islands (a misnomer- it’s 122
islands during high tide, and 123 during low tide). In the morning, we rented a
long-tailed boat for the day and went island hopping. You can only really
access 9 or 10 of the islands, since most of them are small or too cliffy to
get onto. This whole trip is remarkably close to the Ang Thong National Park in
the south of Thailand, but I think it’s actually better because there’s no
tourists! Ang Thong is crawling with tourists, but we only saw a couple white
people, some Filipino teenagers, and I swear the singer from the Black Eyed
Peas was there, but was too distracted by doing cartwheels on the beach to take
a picture with him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePW42PI2YIHzeoeU-SWSKhvLP6TzLW44EvRwtrUNiICzTkVpEUPADEhgJ_X1PiJ0JztPUdKUUHC7VHNyrWpYc8qL4bU1lkggck3uEXHGiOSlqXqzrx9t0CIf8iCKKAY5egIs3waO7f2I/s1600/IMG_0981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePW42PI2YIHzeoeU-SWSKhvLP6TzLW44EvRwtrUNiICzTkVpEUPADEhgJ_X1PiJ0JztPUdKUUHC7VHNyrWpYc8qL4bU1lkggck3uEXHGiOSlqXqzrx9t0CIf8iCKKAY5egIs3waO7f2I/s320/IMG_0981.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSeDW0SVysRbxa4F4Uwznq2Y9Ba4xXh06gjtlb6ahw_EUFDLxjjdBFs9C9LoUan0tJERNFIbshpm2zhOy4sl2CnBzSZM68Zj76rM0Tg3CK5PBPSanvAQ1wlQWGQYB3sn9QdABdVWb2W0/s1600/IMG_0845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSeDW0SVysRbxa4F4Uwznq2Y9Ba4xXh06gjtlb6ahw_EUFDLxjjdBFs9C9LoUan0tJERNFIbshpm2zhOy4sl2CnBzSZM68Zj76rM0Tg3CK5PBPSanvAQ1wlQWGQYB3sn9QdABdVWb2W0/s200/IMG_0845.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
Also, our boatmen were very sweet, quiet and let us do
whatever we want, charging about a quarter of the price I had to pay in
Thailand to go island hopping. Our first two islands also had caves! which I
don’t think Ang Thong had. From one island, you enter a cave that you can jump down
into and land in a pool of water. I was ecstatic when the tour guide told us
about it, then I got there and said no freakin way, too scary. Then 15 seconds
later I convinced P’Be we should do it, and we did and it was awesome! The jump
isn’t that far down, and you can just swim out of the cave and the beach was
right there. I probably would have down it five times over if there wasn’t
snorkeling to be done.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12GPCOVTvUxLY53oQIU8Ok1LkZCL-WtLTUQ9ZQQn7ZlXG-mFq9Yi4kT1fm65o85ZuaAKH5MrMjb2gdkMUGhN-T4DZ6zLfqC4Evey98xoK0nzu1dPmXfKTDIv0vthfhmCXVVOg19R9h3U/s1600/_MG_0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12GPCOVTvUxLY53oQIU8Ok1LkZCL-WtLTUQ9ZQQn7ZlXG-mFq9Yi4kT1fm65o85ZuaAKH5MrMjb2gdkMUGhN-T4DZ6zLfqC4Evey98xoK0nzu1dPmXfKTDIv0vthfhmCXVVOg19R9h3U/s320/_MG_0898.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So that was our next stop. A lot of the many islands of the
Philippines have great diving and snorkeling. Unfortunately its super evident
how damaged the coral reef is here (I’ll blame global warming- the increased
carbon dioxide in the atmosphere affects the oceans the most, because oceans
like to absorb CO2, which changes the pH of the water and makes coral die) and
it seemed like 80% of the coral reef was dead. There were also lots of dead giant clams! Which was kind of cool, and also sad. I also found Nemo and his
family, which is also kind of funny because they are incredibly territorial
nasty little fishes but I still find them so cute because of that movie. And
there were plenty of Dad’s favorite- angel fishes, which are now my favorite
because they’re my Dad’s favorite.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwMDuTln_WBRY727DYleVrbQ2b1NoN8nAyNCH3q_xX1jQUUha7Ky3TrVt3rI0ptUvSx7XAUGlSmGfy5z_U91Gm88ZZz3HLqIr7RKhSLfaDG7I2Zv7tngDEo9PuTSmMJaMjfhxpNPp3xn8/s1600/IMG_1025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwMDuTln_WBRY727DYleVrbQ2b1NoN8nAyNCH3q_xX1jQUUha7Ky3TrVt3rI0ptUvSx7XAUGlSmGfy5z_U91Gm88ZZz3HLqIr7RKhSLfaDG7I2Zv7tngDEo9PuTSmMJaMjfhxpNPp3xn8/s320/IMG_1025.JPG" width="213" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyK75o2JETcf7vJ_mE9N2AOI1QDe6M2sxlc5N1hWAXd6DP9xarTQQgb6UR9_MHcR4ex1ZE4Pl-sBzjGADtNw0gSsXZ2stkT0p-s0OCv-QO3H3XmFrNgZq49MAfK90rbuiIH1Zd1Asw3k/s1600/IMG_0924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyK75o2JETcf7vJ_mE9N2AOI1QDe6M2sxlc5N1hWAXd6DP9xarTQQgb6UR9_MHcR4ex1ZE4Pl-sBzjGADtNw0gSsXZ2stkT0p-s0OCv-QO3H3XmFrNgZq49MAfK90rbuiIH1Zd1Asw3k/s320/IMG_0924.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNiVLjxpXdKAJqXk8KDY5g7-ogsMGD2uDmwFRVgj6JsAJz3WnkR8MwCNmWS_3Mhhy8lAlDbFoIm5r1wdivRYLpSH7A2zwEWZjhEY0SrIPUOAjNF6QKp25ai95bozU47e4kdLMr0suDjY/s1600/IMG_1073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNiVLjxpXdKAJqXk8KDY5g7-ogsMGD2uDmwFRVgj6JsAJz3WnkR8MwCNmWS_3Mhhy8lAlDbFoIm5r1wdivRYLpSH7A2zwEWZjhEY0SrIPUOAjNF6QKp25ai95bozU47e4kdLMr0suDjY/s320/IMG_1073.JPG" width="320" /></a>Enough about fish and dying habitats! The whole day was a
dream. It was relaxing, interesting, not too hot, full of natural beauty and
spent with wonderful people.We spent a few hours on the biggest island, Quezon
Island, and slowly ate lunch, played on the beach, and I climbed a mountain
(without my camera, darn it!) to get a sweeping view of the entire archipelago.
I also got to know Martin a lot better, and he is such a wonderful person (don’t
worry Mom, I’m not falling in love. He’s also gay.) He is quiet most of the
time, but always has positive energy and LOVES to take pictures of everyone, especially
himself. And for some reason it’s adorable. When Bryan takes a million pictures
of himself, we call him vain. When Martin does it, we all go aww, Martin you’re
so cute! He was a wonderful addition to our trip, and I’m really glad he was
there! It’s hard to tell, but I think that was the day I fell in love with the
Philippines. The Filipinos’ bubbly attitude, the natural beauty, and the lack
of tourists make it an incredible hidden haven. I’m almost hesitant to share my
experiences, because I don’t want people to go there and ruin it! I hope that
it stays under the radar so it can hold on to its natural landscapes and not
get overtaken by greedy tourism.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJdOVIJmuLgZ6JeQRddr6y_GpVWVdQ-LAVCCgBrGlkOfQwI4SIOzDG-B6oQ-oqLq1TjFhifIws-fMhqfwRhcuul57avwSL2urtFiv9v5TzQpHziyFIr1p-_waWeEfhmnJd5gT6ATX4aU/s1600/IMG_0975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJdOVIJmuLgZ6JeQRddr6y_GpVWVdQ-LAVCCgBrGlkOfQwI4SIOzDG-B6oQ-oqLq1TjFhifIws-fMhqfwRhcuul57avwSL2urtFiv9v5TzQpHziyFIr1p-_waWeEfhmnJd5gT6ATX4aU/s320/IMG_0975.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dvHoSZYbVKjA2X1KeKYiIweRwbbdXN8IkxbEHPDMkhj2JQOV_Rk2Z1hQzaAN_h987ebMWGaMolbXhSjASQQNaZqP2tVqLcYij0cxiD3f-JpNdnfnpDxTyDpktabJa8g-2OY6str2c-8/s1600/IMG_1184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dvHoSZYbVKjA2X1KeKYiIweRwbbdXN8IkxbEHPDMkhj2JQOV_Rk2Z1hQzaAN_h987ebMWGaMolbXhSjASQQNaZqP2tVqLcYij0cxiD3f-JpNdnfnpDxTyDpktabJa8g-2OY6str2c-8/s320/IMG_1184.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hehehe Bryan was hung over =)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But then all of those sentiments were lost the next day when
we visited our next tourist destination. After island hopping, we stopped over
in Manila to rest at Martin’s house for the night before heading to Tagaytay,
home of Taal volcano, the Philippine’s most treasured tourist attraction. Taal
volcano is fondly referred to as “a lake with a volcano with a lake within and
an island in the middle of that small lake”. Upon learning about this unique
geological phenomenon, this became a must-see on the itinerary. Taal volcano
erupted in 1911 in the middle of Taal Lake, which itself is surrounded by dead
volcanoes. After the eruption, Taal volcano collapsed, leaving room for a small
lake at the top of the volcano to form. It’s been a feisty volcano,
particularly in recent geological history, it’s last eruption happening in
1965. Of course I heard about this and think these people are crazy- obviously
this volcano is still active, why are there hundreds of tourists here. But we
totally went anyway. The problem is, it’s a total rip off. The resort that
rents boats to the base of the volcano wanted to charge us 5 times what we paid
for an entire day of island hopping, for a 15 minute boat ride. We managed to
get them to lower their price, and got to the base of the volcano for the SAME
PRICE we paid for island hopping.<br />
Then the next obstacle arose. At the base of
the volcano, some genius thought it would be a great idea to have horses and
ploy tourists into paying to ride horses to the top of the volcano. Except they’re
not horses. They’re ponies and should not be carrying grown people on their
backs. I told the manager we would rather just walk to the top, to which he
smirked and said “too far”. So after much debate and halving the price he was
asking for, we agreed to take the ponies up, and were forced to pay for a tour
guide per person to manage the pony for us. Ridiculous. And at this point for
the boat and horses, we were paying twice what we had paid the day before for a
full day of heaven, for a measly two hour activity just to see a natural
phenomenon. So we headed to the ponies, where one tour guide had kept his eye
on me and told all his friends to take the other tourists so he could be my
tour guide. Though a total creep, he was really funny. He immediately jumped on
the back of my pony with me, and left my friends in the dust.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZEGbqP5abyMh660A9QSuvnMhvHmEK7kk9rPPuyM5pjnu6nQfW2DcIk9sDWCLw_rFdS_iUoDb4F6yyeNnjIxCCB4ODnXUZAuLbli-hi_ZO0DJ1BIHjlSEZBsvIPO9VNu1Qy0kTWnABGY/s1600/IMG_1206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZEGbqP5abyMh660A9QSuvnMhvHmEK7kk9rPPuyM5pjnu6nQfW2DcIk9sDWCLw_rFdS_iUoDb4F6yyeNnjIxCCB4ODnXUZAuLbli-hi_ZO0DJ1BIHjlSEZBsvIPO9VNu1Qy0kTWnABGY/s200/IMG_1206.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5jc80kENRBASWBo5c9Eck_HEMGDH11QP6bB0LnHJszt6RJNvJ-sxcbrduVuvp98WunSG6_k6O7XF_8m5hyphenhyphenXis9bBCVD1eqVeMJA9x_j6-W56t9A-TVHQnZQEAeZ03esf07_GcigVK1o/s1600/IMG_1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5jc80kENRBASWBo5c9Eck_HEMGDH11QP6bB0LnHJszt6RJNvJ-sxcbrduVuvp98WunSG6_k6O7XF_8m5hyphenhyphenXis9bBCVD1eqVeMJA9x_j6-W56t9A-TVHQnZQEAeZ03esf07_GcigVK1o/s320/IMG_1218.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
He had his
repertoire of English answers quickly at the ready, whether or not he
understood what I was actually asking.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: What’s the horses name?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tour guide: Jericho.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: What’s your name?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tour guide: Jomas.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: How old is our horse?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: 4 years old maam.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Hm. How long do horses usually live?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: Two years maam. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: So what do you feed the horses?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: Feed</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Oh, where does it come from?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: ….what, maam?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: So do you have many tourists from America?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: No maam.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Where do most tourists come from?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jomas: Korea. And many from Australia and USA.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stopped there with my questions. Then he made my poor
struggling horse canter up the side of the mountain on uneven ground, and I
kept saying slow down, Jericho doesn’t like this, Jericho is tired. And Jomas
insisted that Jericho is a good horse, but my friends’ horses are hungry. But
Jericho is not hungry. So we unfortunately won the race to the top of the
volcano, where I was continuosly harassed by Jomas’ colleagues to leave a tip
and buy beverages for my tour guide. I just ignored them and pet poor Jericho.
Martin was the next to get to the top, tour-guide-less. He said his tour guide
left him at the beginning to go clean his house, so Martin, having never ridden
a horse before, had to go solo up the mountain. So much for paying for a tour
guide. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1plTos5Q06oO4DK0lH8MiUqAe1sIdzJodUZamIQnb1gc9n5lcJIKJ2_e7sI3vF1gc53bGGnxFlNDuqxJyePlPvnTHMJyJDppPmx_pKHhbU5842aGCLLR0b3ptIPMEewsmgozz5Fh8zwk/s1600/IMG_0727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1plTos5Q06oO4DK0lH8MiUqAe1sIdzJodUZamIQnb1gc9n5lcJIKJ2_e7sI3vF1gc53bGGnxFlNDuqxJyePlPvnTHMJyJDppPmx_pKHhbU5842aGCLLR0b3ptIPMEewsmgozz5Fh8zwk/s320/IMG_0727.JPG" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttsWM1q_KhTxZxpKDTpvv31UTWVBA1QguTrBAbXHG1N5R0B-_iuCV0ChcK6t0VV6Qw9CBESOgkRu18Gr9Q7l8oWyWx-HZg_nOaIYqlUxdcA6Ug2BCBsORFsr6s8x3d5MvXoah7TaNDzg/s1600/IMG_1306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttsWM1q_KhTxZxpKDTpvv31UTWVBA1QguTrBAbXHG1N5R0B-_iuCV0ChcK6t0VV6Qw9CBESOgkRu18Gr9Q7l8oWyWx-HZg_nOaIYqlUxdcA6Ug2BCBsORFsr6s8x3d5MvXoah7TaNDzg/s320/IMG_1306.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite the disappointment in how this beautiful natural
attraction has been ruined by money hungry tourist authorities, the volcano
itself is gorgeous. And really hot!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv6RnwPsf9C1MZMB6OyXg0eZ1xTlxX6AITbNXVd7Xo5C4ZjrYw2x0sdKzsAuiu6su04-yCMIqtaz455nn-t0Gpso6gsYzx6-y0hl_sshArGvITI4IBz29FWMLstK1IXmteYGubnB14wM/s1600/IMG_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv6RnwPsf9C1MZMB6OyXg0eZ1xTlxX6AITbNXVd7Xo5C4ZjrYw2x0sdKzsAuiu6su04-yCMIqtaz455nn-t0Gpso6gsYzx6-y0hl_sshArGvITI4IBz29FWMLstK1IXmteYGubnB14wM/s320/IMG_0728.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-KyekCYX_n-_Bai6IJTvh8TLQv4u9sX3_Xode5eRhXnwof0Mz8Z2kjePchDVfUNU1M1wwjZywl1YlrIHenwwn-94Nr-WuZf9jhSPsE73tJ2hoJ3fW5xeDNMFO5iosPKViZKSvXepZuI/s1600/IMG_1249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-KyekCYX_n-_Bai6IJTvh8TLQv4u9sX3_Xode5eRhXnwof0Mz8Z2kjePchDVfUNU1M1wwjZywl1YlrIHenwwn-94Nr-WuZf9jhSPsE73tJ2hoJ3fW5xeDNMFO5iosPKViZKSvXepZuI/s320/IMG_1249.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdC1ZpCGA5u1jdsg-k0Pnp1-2Y-CJM9AnD1gGfn5CpEum9TMyhrpmrnWdRt-_pr6AIxWOYYd_fhs-GkINHqzC-pJKg-DBTa6POWDioRZYaeE39xOLi_tXl-ruzGcIq488fWYjTZL-mnQ/s1600/IMG_1271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdC1ZpCGA5u1jdsg-k0Pnp1-2Y-CJM9AnD1gGfn5CpEum9TMyhrpmrnWdRt-_pr6AIxWOYYd_fhs-GkINHqzC-pJKg-DBTa6POWDioRZYaeE39xOLi_tXl-ruzGcIq488fWYjTZL-mnQ/s320/IMG_1271.JPG" width="213" /></a> There were geysers galore spewing out hot
gases, furthering my theory that this volcano is about going to blow again. I
warned Jomas of this on the way down, to which he replied “yes maam” or just
stayed silent. Then I lectured him on how to treat tourists, assuring him, “if
you want a tip, you must have a happy tourist. To have a happy tourist, you
have to go slow up the mountain. Fast is scary. See those tourists, they’re not
happy. And neither is their horse”. I think he got bored of my lecture, then he
told me that in the mountains, there are many snakes. Many snakes, many birds. But
no monkeys, maam. Tigers, or lions? I asked. No, maam. And no zebras, maam. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Jomas redeemed himself a little bit, for being funny and
pretending to listen to me about how to make tourists happy. But I still only
left him a measly tip, then got his friend in trouble by telling the manager what
happened, and then continued to lecture the manager about how he is ruining the
image of the Philippines by running this terrible industry. He got defensive
and told me he pays his workers 400 pesos per trip up and down the mountain,
which I wouldn’t have believed whether or not Jomas had told me he makes 50
pesos per trip, the equivalent of $1.20. So we got back in the boat and headed
back to the resort where I went on to lecture the resort manager about this
tourist package ruining tourism for the whole country. Wow, get me off my
soapbox, I don’t know when I turned into such an assertive tourist. Apparently
it’s something I feel very strongly about, mostly because our entire trip had
been such an incredibly positive experience, and I was mad at these people for
making the worst of a tourist attraction. Clearly it doesn’t have to be that
way because it’s not in the rest of the country. Reminded me of Angkor Wat in
Cambodia.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we left that joint to have lunch on a cliff,<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXBWFbxCPJG5H5jnGCZXLbA6HeWCQJ5iS9m-IeggSmQzqqjfM-rhgez2MZrCVaBJo0aPl5dgW4CgdhyphenhyphenPk3lirns5M81bpoYvMW0YM6JWjjugF21SMBmlx5JN6SugcRijOS1KOwWvxhfGA/s1600/IMG_1320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXBWFbxCPJG5H5jnGCZXLbA6HeWCQJ5iS9m-IeggSmQzqqjfM-rhgez2MZrCVaBJo0aPl5dgW4CgdhyphenhyphenPk3lirns5M81bpoYvMW0YM6JWjjugF21SMBmlx5JN6SugcRijOS1KOwWvxhfGA/s320/IMG_1320.JPG" width="320" /></a>then headed to
our next destination- the beach in BATANGAS! We drove for a very long time to
Batangas, which made me super suspicious because it was only supposed to take a
couple hours. And I saw many signs that posted distances that we had far surpassed
as the sun began to sink behind the mountains, and if Bryan was awake in the
front seat I would have asked us where the heck he is taking us. I’m still
hesitant to trust anything Bryan is doing (wonder why?), but I probably should
have more faith in him at this point, because he (kind of, in an indirect Bryan
way) knows exactly what he’s doing. He got us to the perfect beach spot in Batangas,
a quiet beach front bungalow with video-oke (the Filipino form of karaoke), crystal
blue water and stretches of beach with only a scattering of Filipino tourists.
Development is sparse in Batangas, and this fisherman’s beach will hopefully
stay as undisturbed and beautiful as it is now, but I am confident that this
perfect beach will soon be discovered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before blinking an eye, we changed into our swimsuits and
jumped into the moonlit water. Well, I guess P’Be had time to blink an eye,
because he also had time to buy a two liter bottle of Red Horse for 70 pesos-
less than 2 dollars. Even though the nighttime air wasn’t quite cool yet, it
was cooler than the warm ocean water, and we kept only our heads and the bottle
of beer above the water until we were too hungry to wait any longer to have
dinner. Instant noodles, video-oke and some shooting stars later, it was time
to call it a long day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWk7KGkd3kPafUCIXSJ3bQbFfHGU3gZE73XDwDWm-k15qpejAt4QMRf4GAeJqqPxJfI9fLHCs1wIZPwLFExl_L7fcPdn_Byvjik9Hs4DW1_EPJAbknQbX4loJNCFbWog-y_nvfoWK794/s1600/_MG_1368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWk7KGkd3kPafUCIXSJ3bQbFfHGU3gZE73XDwDWm-k15qpejAt4QMRf4GAeJqqPxJfI9fLHCs1wIZPwLFExl_L7fcPdn_Byvjik9Hs4DW1_EPJAbknQbX4loJNCFbWog-y_nvfoWK794/s200/_MG_1368.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsM_sLrvfuSpuXxFaev4oZXMGLIKz6_Tww95mpg5pEeqBRpwrZ6P7YjwCzoA7qkZq5AdlsOQbpYTI0B_ZP8dDJ708a8wUBFU_XCs8Fo2boSg2FArcd_EBRqIAS3W9-ZrwUiwMGHrN7lk/s1600/304489_4396952595696_1030965883_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsM_sLrvfuSpuXxFaev4oZXMGLIKz6_Tww95mpg5pEeqBRpwrZ6P7YjwCzoA7qkZq5AdlsOQbpYTI0B_ZP8dDJ708a8wUBFU_XCs8Fo2boSg2FArcd_EBRqIAS3W9-ZrwUiwMGHrN7lk/s200/304489_4396952595696_1030965883_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>We attempted sunrise in the morning, but the clouds ruined
the moment, so Martin and I took a long walk on the beach to soak in the cool
breeze and subtle lighting. I heard the fisherman heading out at around 2 or 3
AM, and we watched their return with the sunrise. We spent the rest of the
morning lying on the beach, playing on an unattended fishing boat, going to the
market to get some of the fresh caught fish, and more or less living the dream.
Bryan spent the morning cooking, and omelet and corned beef with rice for
breakfast, and sour fish soup (like a clear Gaeng Som) and grilled squid for
lunch. Awesome! I always like Bryan’s versions of Filipino food cause he adds
tons of veggies.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDufBPD_C8BPhCGlPY-0kVvhYNRKUBktgMhvBS1MvSsN3P0gaKwsT9RdBaZKoeAeKOeOC5SKdTJmuu0wNSWeVzE-21JYtIyF2-OdQuomQm9qfiVk91uHB9CGrglOMfCELVGVUUITDN6t0/s1600/IMG_0746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDufBPD_C8BPhCGlPY-0kVvhYNRKUBktgMhvBS1MvSsN3P0gaKwsT9RdBaZKoeAeKOeOC5SKdTJmuu0wNSWeVzE-21JYtIyF2-OdQuomQm9qfiVk91uHB9CGrglOMfCELVGVUUITDN6t0/s320/IMG_0746.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then we were on the road again….to Manila to pick up my visa
(woo hoo!) and dinner with P’Tara’s cousin. Pizza Hut in a mall…anti-climactic,
but she also had free tickets to a comedy club! So after dinner we headed to
the most popular comedy club in Manila, Zirkoh. Apparently like everything else
in the Philippines, the comedy industry is spearheaded by the gay community.
The first act we saw were five transvestites that were not at all convincing
but put on a wonderful show, followed by a trio of very flamboyant men. These
guys were hilarious and somehow could improv dance moves in unison. Bryan and I
do that sometimes, but it’s a lot harder with three people. Oh, in addition to
being gay, to do stand up comedy, you must be able to sing and dance, and basically
put on a concert in between your jokes. Though every sentence had some English,
and the jokes were easy to get, the performing was definitely the best part of
the show. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We left the comedy club at 3 A.M., to drive back to Bryan’s
home, arriving around sunrise. The whole house was awake already and blasting
music, preparing Bryan’s sister for the next round of her modeling gig. But
that didn’t stop us from sleeping until noon, with just enough time to shower
and make it to her show. That day’s theme was performing a talent, which was
really sad. They may be beautiful, but NONE of them can dance, though many of
them tried. This isn’t funny, but one of the girls accidentally knocked out her
partner during a lift, and he broke his leg. While the medics were taking care
of him on stage, they had a guest performer sing to distract the audience, which
totally worked because she is Filipino and all Filipinos are built with an
extra singing gene that makes them all sing beautifully. Martin confirmed this
theory for me. I asked him. Then the second part of the show was COSPLAY!!!
What a fantastic idea. Though this has nothing to do with beauty and is solely
about crazy costumes, that was a genius theme and kept me content and
entertained for an additional two hours. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For our last night in the Philippines, we partied like true
Filipinos. It was Bryan’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s birthday, who was also
a model, and we were invited to the party. Bryan’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother,
who I guess I could just call Sam for short, has a huge family and a gorgeous
home. There is a complex of gazebos, strung with Christmas lights, and a huge
patio set up with tables and chairs and a video-oke machine. After a fabulous
dinner (I guess Filipino food isn’t ALWAYS bad) of adobo and kare kare, we were
not really asked but kind of forced into a game of beer pong. It didn’t take
much force anyway- I was so excited to play beer pong. Which is funny really, I
never really liked to play beer pong in America, but being an American playing
beer pong in the Philippines seemed so exciting. But then Team Thailand lost,
even with the help of an adorable little girl wearing a party hat that would
stick out her tongue at the other team every time it was their turn.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQg2CAJcMN5twuIzRXmi77X0pF0zqgzijyZyXn79Xnknn33yzdYf5emWDlE2NTOUwOt4SPLty7pq-f_qTCeVGxmUNPH2cxnStIU6zLcvB09Bfc8QBipkwO33bpwGe1fHDdLTPcLs1Z4U/s1600/_MG_1402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQg2CAJcMN5twuIzRXmi77X0pF0zqgzijyZyXn79Xnknn33yzdYf5emWDlE2NTOUwOt4SPLty7pq-f_qTCeVGxmUNPH2cxnStIU6zLcvB09Bfc8QBipkwO33bpwGe1fHDdLTPcLs1Z4U/s320/_MG_1402.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team Philippines</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZuQrQSzGxmzJLj4f76C7zFjs-fvTqrVwY2KSRvyt5BbCENiFFO-rQKSEbSe_tTWIGfSqyX7VH7ollmm74jpgQ1Gc_T0Kn8XMojpl_C4RQwrxkaV3YQCOcaN9Mt9vgvUrjTb9NMFWFPU/s1600/_MG_1551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZuQrQSzGxmzJLj4f76C7zFjs-fvTqrVwY2KSRvyt5BbCENiFFO-rQKSEbSe_tTWIGfSqyX7VH7ollmm74jpgQ1Gc_T0Kn8XMojpl_C4RQwrxkaV3YQCOcaN9Mt9vgvUrjTb9NMFWFPU/s320/_MG_1551.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
I spent
the rest of the night bonding with Bryan’s teenage cousins and sister. They
made me promise to come back in March when I’m done teaching. Sam’s girlfriend
exclaimed that we can celebrate our birthdays together, because she’ll be
turning 18 in March. Then I realized I’ll be turning 25 and that made me really
sad and feel old. But I guess I’m not too old to pretend like I’m a teenager
and drink with these high school girls until 3 in the morning. (which is also
funny, because when I WAS a teenager, I never drank like that) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
But holy crap, after two nights of drinking until 3 AM after
that four day sprint through the Philippines, I was exhausted and ready to go
home, despite Bryan’s family’s pleas for me to stay a few more days. It was
tempting to hang out with them for longer, but I need to get home to my Sawankhalok!
I have grad schools to apply to! =) I am almost 25 years old, after all.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPV9pQi1qOucvRbX6Mq2SE_m86ucb4-k_Z2xrxJ__yOW5KZyCeqTy8KkLbHw5bSMlG3nLn1H5k9ODaY_048tvIenPWKcX8gS9-5CutnBmV-UvEoFuB85xCTS2kHr6OY7AEwV6BsK0Si4/s1600/IMG_0764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPV9pQi1qOucvRbX6Mq2SE_m86ucb4-k_Z2xrxJ__yOW5KZyCeqTy8KkLbHw5bSMlG3nLn1H5k9ODaY_048tvIenPWKcX8gS9-5CutnBmV-UvEoFuB85xCTS2kHr6OY7AEwV6BsK0Si4/s400/IMG_0764.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
saying goodbye to Bryan's mom at the airport, with our cool new F-team shirts!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-22841343077706006472012-10-11T19:38:00.000-07:002012-10-22T08:35:27.250-07:00A farewell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After a year and a half of being in Thailand, my darling Hawaiin/Thai sister, P'Tara is going back to America, as well as my Thai brother, P'Be. They've been wonderful friends for me this past year, and it's definitely going to be strange not having them here. Our school had a retirement party last week, during which P'Be and I were supposed to say our goodbyes to the school, even though I'm not leaving yet...Like any good Thai party it ended in dancing and karaoke, where I learned how to waltz and cha-cha-cha with the physics teachers that FAILED all my M4 students and whom I will never forgive for making all my students cry. He was a good lead dancer though, and learning cha-cha-cha while P'Gai was singing karaoke was indeed entertaining. Anyway, that sub-par dinner party does not do my departing friends justice. It took me a few weeks, but I finally managed to complete this video for P'Tara recapping our year together to give to her as a going away present. It's the first video I've ever made and posted on youtube, and it was really fun! Notice the significant improvement in my ability to take pictures, as well as make a movie as the video progresses =)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/VaIstUrA9gA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
(<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaIstUrA9gA&feature=plcp">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaIstUrA9gA&feature=plcp</a>)Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-90452478719634047592012-10-10T03:34:00.002-07:002012-10-22T19:31:30.733-07:00Winding down: A year in Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Entering October, it’s now been over a year since I've been home, and exactly a year since I've started my Fulbright grant. Though the grant is only a year long and it’s expected that the ETAs head home after a year, I’m following in my predecessor’s footsteps and ignoring that expectation. I’m staying an extra term at my school, employed as just another foreign teacher, and I’m so stoked about it. I think I've been working my students hard this past term, and while I’m still learning how to be a teacher, they’re learning how to be my students, and they've gotten pretty freaking good at it. I feel like I have a lot of momentum with them, and I’m so excited to have them another term to experiment with what their capable of.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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The weekends leading up to the end of the semester were just as exciting as ever. In mid September, there was a little reunion with some Fulbrighters in Phitsanulok. I’ve actually been a pretty lousy Fulbright when it comes to hanging out with other ETAs, which I really haven’t done all year. To be honest, I kind of loathe hanging out with other ETAs because there tends to be lots of complaining, comparing, hating Thailand, and other feelings I never experience in my little Sawankhalok bubble. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the only happy ETA, but getting any of us together is bound to end in complaining about all the little Thailand things that are frustrating to Americans, and I’d rather just never face these things. And yes this still happened during the only meet up I went to in Phitsanulok, but it was an enjoyable weekend anyway. The Phitsanulok, Sukhothai, Uttaradit and Lampang folks all met up, which are coincidentally all my favorite Fulbrighters. We all got in on Friday night, and spent hours in my hotel room exchanging insect stories. Rachel from Uttaradit won the contest; she lives in the middle of the jungle, spends half an hour a day killing ants, and sprays so many pesticides in her house that she is noticeably going a little crazy. We talked until 1 A.M. when we realized we should have left an hour ago if we wanted to go dancing. But that didn’t stop us from going to a semi-fun club down the street from where we were staying, where we didn’t have to pay the 200 bhat cover because we’re white, and there was not a straight person in sight. That was quite a let down- it’s been quite a long time since I’ve seen any boys my age, but it was inevitable they would all be gay. It’s interesting because I doubt these places are even labeled as gay clubs, but the gay male and “tom” female (and of course ladyboy) population is so high, that it just kind of dominates. And straight Thai boys are too cool for dance clubs so they go to “pubs” with live music. Or more likely stay at home and play video games. Anyway, the 7 of us squeezed into a tiny open space between two tables of ladyboys, and didn’t have enough room to dance, nor a
table to order any drinks. So we waited it out until 2 A.M. when people started to leave and invaded all the open spaces with silly-looking farang dancing until they kicked us out at 3.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHunvQDBG0_x-DwSPK6mr7HOEuM-1MT-JvuhXyKn1eJbTQZmwLYIFmBSPHl6GYKWicQRFH2i0143OpZu51vCMD-KZQwJUevrI5f0lBdgy0ytdCwUETuLCspKXL3Grbrz3G1XXP-VOvRdM/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHunvQDBG0_x-DwSPK6mr7HOEuM-1MT-JvuhXyKn1eJbTQZmwLYIFmBSPHl6GYKWicQRFH2i0143OpZu51vCMD-KZQwJUevrI5f0lBdgy0ytdCwUETuLCspKXL3Grbrz3G1XXP-VOvRdM/s200/IMG_0339.JPG" width="150" /></a>On Saturday, we headed into the jungles to go on a crazy awesome rafting trip. Usually these kinds of tourist packages are cheesy, expensive and make me feel like a stupid tourist, but this was an absolute gem. It was only 700 bhat, just over 20 dollars for over two hours of rafting on the Nan River. The resort that puts together this package is hidden on the side of a highway in the middle of Phitlok jungle. Besides being adorable, serene and the epitome of zen, there was also a Thai talking parrot! He was kind of annoying, but he said “sawasdi kap” and “khop kun kap” like a pro while “hello” was not in his vocabulary.<br />
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The rafting trip itself was spectacular. I had gone on a rafting trip in New Zealand, which was about an hour of training and maybe 30 minutes in the water. But in total Thai style, there was no training, and over two hours of good quality rafting. Well, there was no waterfall like there was in New Zealand, which made the training there kind of necessary, but there were a lot of rapids. Our boat was 4 Thais and 4 of us, and an adorable guide who didn’t know any English. We were kind of the lazy boat, and we kind of didn’t paddle at all. He kept politely reminding us, “paai, kap”, but his commands to paddle resulted in all of us dipping our oars in the water once, maybe making a paddle motion, then putting it back in the boat and relaxing some more. Tough work! But the current was strong enough that we really didn’t need to paddle. And any time it was too calm that we probably should paddle, we jumped out and went swimming instead, and waited for the boat to float to us. Sound perfect? Then as we were passing through some rapids, we passed a monk who was meditating on a rock in the river under the cover of a large tree, not flinching or hinting to have heard the rowdy tourists barreling down the rapids. I think only in Thailand can these worlds coexist like that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgeSxonZv0ibhj4gux91IwQLHNOY6BH3cRurRUoTGgXKFwu8kEqZSv5tBuz6nOiP37D0SgErWzYqyLhqmq7BGBKPV9SunMC0Fvt_x_fWZyDCFQZTxo8uTqX9PcNtKA7jkmasV3rDWL5U/s1600/IMG_0355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgeSxonZv0ibhj4gux91IwQLHNOY6BH3cRurRUoTGgXKFwu8kEqZSv5tBuz6nOiP37D0SgErWzYqyLhqmq7BGBKPV9SunMC0Fvt_x_fWZyDCFQZTxo8uTqX9PcNtKA7jkmasV3rDWL5U/s320/IMG_0355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgeSxonZv0ibhj4gux91IwQLHNOY6BH3cRurRUoTGgXKFwu8kEqZSv5tBuz6nOiP37D0SgErWzYqyLhqmq7BGBKPV9SunMC0Fvt_x_fWZyDCFQZTxo8uTqX9PcNtKA7jkmasV3rDWL5U/s1600/IMG_0355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgeSxonZv0ibhj4gux91IwQLHNOY6BH3cRurRUoTGgXKFwu8kEqZSv5tBuz6nOiP37D0SgErWzYqyLhqmq7BGBKPV9SunMC0Fvt_x_fWZyDCFQZTxo8uTqX9PcNtKA7jkmasV3rDWL5U/s320/IMG_0355.JPG" width="320" /></a>After the rafting trip, I did what I typically do and left the farang party early to head back to Sawankhalok. The end of the rainy season has resulted in some problems with flooding which has particularly affected Sukhothai province after a levee broke and the new and old city were under three meters of water, but that’s not why I was heading home early. I had been invited to go on an 80 km bikeride with P’Bew, the owner of my favorite coffee shop in ‘wanlok. He had put a together this trip with all the bicycle clubs in Sukhothai province to bike to an orphanage in the hills of Thung Salium, and there were over 100 people planning on going. On Sunday morning, we were supposed to meet at P’Bew’s coffee shop and get an early start. Unfortunately, the Sukhothai gang never made it because their homes were still flooded, and the Sri Samrong group had shown up, but as soon as they got to P’Bew’s, they turned around and went back to Sri Samrong to patch up their homes to prepare for the flood. But the rest of us went for it anyway, and started the journey. It was a cute crowd of mostly older men in their professional bike suits, helmets, and fancy bikes. Then there were the teenage boys, in their blue jeans, black tee-shirts and baseball caps, riding their super trendy fix-gear bikes. Then there was the farang, not really fitting in with anyone as usual. But P’Bew lent me his bicycle suit, and P’Buddy lent me his helmet and fancy bike, so I blended in with the professional riders a little bit minus my silly sunglasses. The first 30 km weren’t very interesting because they were just on the main road to Thung Salium which looks like any other main road in Thailand- rice paddies, rice paddies and more rice paddies reaching all the way to the mountains in the background. Then all of a sudden, we reached the mountain in the background, and spent the last 10 km up in the hills. That was the best part. The air was slightly cooler, the scenery changed to forests, and the cars on the road disappeared. The whole trip went surprisingly quickly, and we made it to the orphanage before 10AM. P’Bew and some other had driven their trucks filled with donations while we were biking, and we unloaded pounds of rice, preserved foods, clothing and teddy bears to give to Bahn Nok orphanage. It was an incredibly gratifying feeling, to be part of this trip.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGmXDpckYSOvPHzwQQl5_36SRy9YWtnBWUaJ7K2Bpch_T5yQbZgCYBXashSvCw7zSWBH92100yD5RhD2sE8Fh23iHLrYMKeWIrXyOhnhKn6Nu5u608eZk3EN29w5VS8Y0yOfqOY8mVcM/s1600/IMG_0360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGmXDpckYSOvPHzwQQl5_36SRy9YWtnBWUaJ7K2Bpch_T5yQbZgCYBXashSvCw7zSWBH92100yD5RhD2sE8Fh23iHLrYMKeWIrXyOhnhKn6Nu5u608eZk3EN29w5VS8Y0yOfqOY8mVcM/s320/IMG_0360.JPG" width="320" /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGCDQ455BDL1mpIpoIKDU2gMgXpBcILv517v36PwI3HucUjcLaYdPZxTx-Wvsx8vqm-Z0Cd-ndD0evzJCNZc7JtiH-NjidFZjztHPkTeeBpwcIRAXi2o0jwsi9DKbEiIn1lJd8d3DG48/s1600/IMG_0357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGCDQ455BDL1mpIpoIKDU2gMgXpBcILv517v36PwI3HucUjcLaYdPZxTx-Wvsx8vqm-Z0Cd-ndD0evzJCNZc7JtiH-NjidFZjztHPkTeeBpwcIRAXi2o0jwsi9DKbEiIn1lJd8d3DG48/s320/IMG_0357.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Though I’m always the last to know what’s going on, yet am the center of attention for picture taking, it was still a very real experience, seeing how much P’Bew and his crew of cyclists can do for this orphanage in just one day. Though it’s a small orphanage, they get kids from as far away as Chaing Mai and Bangkok. We didn’t spend much time there, because our whole province was flooding, and as people were starting to get packed up, I was about to hop back on my bike. I guess what I hadn’t noticed is that everyone had loaded their bikes up onto the trucks. I asked P’Bew if I could bike back to Sawankhalok, and he said no, Sawankhalok is flooding, so we’re all driving back. I was a bit bummed, not that Sawankhalok was flooding, but because I really liked the ride up, and the ride down would have been so much fun. I reluctantly got in a truck with a guy I recognized and couldn’t remember why, and some other unfamiliar faces. I sat in the front with the driver, who if you could imagine a cross between a stoic Native American and a wise old Thai man, that was him. He wasn’t really old though. The familiar face that sat in the back, I realized, was the tech helper at a school where I taught a teachers’ seminar earlier in the year. He remembered not only my first and last name, but also every detail about me I never knew that I had shared- that I played rugby in America, that I’m half Thai and from Philadelphia. I thought this was so adorable- he was just the guy that helped us with computer things, but he spoke English more clearly than all of the Thai teachers at the seminar and is probably the only person that remembered what I said in my introduction. After telling the driver all these details about me, he introduced the driver to me: Kun Sanyaa, to which the up until now silent driver quietly stated in English: “you call me Mr. Promise. Sanyaa means promise”. The things that Thai people are capable of saying in English really astound me sometimes. He told me about his home in Issan, the Northeast and slightly looked down upon region of Thailand, and gave me some sticky rice from his home. He assured me sticky rice from Issan is more delicious than in Sawankhalok, which I took as a silly, proud statement. Sticky rice is always delicious. My friend in the backseat handed me a chunk of sticky rice for me to be proven wrong, and indeed I was wrong. It was definitely more delicious than Sawankhalok sticky rice, and was mixed with grains of wild rice that are crunchier and I don’t know how to explain this, but taste more like rice than your average rice. One day I’ll learn the proper words to describe grades of rice, but take my word- it tastes more like rice.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAEcqY-HWvzPOak6rXlgpXlyewYXwLhFNMpLEd3KPiv9XKC1wXKx3qv1FaAyVYwG401Y3rsLHW4MbbTbfQmD4H-E5wl2PkMAuXR6wiL2G95ZuQPEMovx2rn81Hp0VCxyMklq7AgIMSJQ/s1600/IMG_0362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAEcqY-HWvzPOak6rXlgpXlyewYXwLhFNMpLEd3KPiv9XKC1wXKx3qv1FaAyVYwG401Y3rsLHW4MbbTbfQmD4H-E5wl2PkMAuXR6wiL2G95ZuQPEMovx2rn81Hp0VCxyMklq7AgIMSJQ/s320/IMG_0362.JPG" width="320" /></a>So I was dropped off in Sawankhalok before noon. Still
having adrenaline from the bike ride up, I got back on my bike and explored the
flooded parts of Sawankhalok. I guess the flooding had started in the morning,
and was overflowing from the river onto the riverside streets. It was only back
roads affected at this point, and just a few inches of water in the worst
parts, with a party of Thai men that were probably supposed to be workin on
those sandbag walls but were sitting in lawn chairs drinking whisky in the
flooded road instead. But with no rain insight for the first day in a while, Sawankhalok's flooding didn't get much worse. The river had peaked that morning, and Sukhothai’s broken levy downriver of us
soaked in more of flood water.
I watched the river level slowly back down from the sandbag walls, and
Sawankhalok was safe. I was kind of looking forward to the flood, secretly
crossing my fingers for a day off a school as if it were a snow day, but it
never came and Sawankhalok is safe for this year. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkqPBbu-EnpL_lXQLMCdrXRX_t02qz7FzHCqYdF8xaDSJ7hNlK8cx0Vh-jIRnApf381VtNRdWkK7-sV24MnPibitb2737LzMdXwxcv7EAJrvPmDJz1W9J-glKhYsHjfbbIdbBwH0QQA0/s1600/IMG_0367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkqPBbu-EnpL_lXQLMCdrXRX_t02qz7FzHCqYdF8xaDSJ7hNlK8cx0Vh-jIRnApf381VtNRdWkK7-sV24MnPibitb2737LzMdXwxcv7EAJrvPmDJz1W9J-glKhYsHjfbbIdbBwH0QQA0/s400/IMG_0367.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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School finished as scheduled with only one more camp for the
foreigners to tackle before the end of the term. Another school in Sukhothai had lost a Fulbright ETA early in the year that had to
go back to America, so I’ve had to do some of her Fulbright responsibilities
this term, including exhausting English camps. The first one was a typical M4
English camp at her school with lots of lady boys, but this last request to
help with an English camp was very different. The school asked me and my troop
of foreigners to run a prathom camp, which is elementary school students. They
didn’t really tell me anything other than that. So a teacher picked up Bryan
and I (the rest of the F-team kind of bailed) at 7 on a Saturday morning, and
took us 45 minutes into the middle of no man’s land, Sri Satchanalai. Dirt road
after dirt road, we ended up at this tiny little building labeled a school,
with an army of little kids dressed in blue track suits. I jumped out of the
car and right onto their awesome playground with them. They had built their own jungle gym
out of wood, and attached a plastic slide- way better than the plastic jungle
gym sets except that I was way too tall to play. But I did anyway. And they
weren’t scared of me! I am potentially the only white person they’ve had to
interact with in their entire lives, and they were not shy or scared at all. What
little angels.</div>
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This middle-of-nowhere school is for grades 1-6, and between
the six grades there are 200 students- in the whole school! So at our camp, we
had almost all of the 4<sup>th</sup>, 5<sup>th</sup> and 6<sup>th</sup>
graders. Their English skills were almost non-existent, so games were the
extent of our language teaching. Duck duck goose, which became duck duck mouse
because I forgot the word for goose in Thai, was our main source of
entertainment…and I played that for HOURS. During our lunch break, one of the
girls asked me to go out to grab snacks. So we hopped on two broken bicycles
with flat tires and biked to the end of the of the school's dirt path and stopped in a little wooden shop on stilts. Inside were shelves of
dusty snacks, an open bottle of whiskey, an old woman fanning herself, and a
monkey! (not sure who opened the whisky..) The little monkey on a chain was
awesome! He didn’t hesitate to start climbing all over me, and hold onto my
hands to do somersaults up my leg. As the little guy was using my body as a
gymnastics bar, a guy came up on his motorcycle and laughed at me and my new
friend. He kept saying to the monkey “go to mother, go to mother”, which I
didn’t even take offense to him calling me a monkey’s mother because I would
adopt my monkey son any day.</div>
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One last thing that has started with the end of the semester
is my new found interest in Muay Thai boxing. For something I never really
appreciated, man is it fun to train! P’Be found a Muay Thai training center in
Sawankhalok with the most awesome trainers ever. I went one day after school,
after hearing about these great trainers
from P’Be. We showed up and started warming up in the ring, as the trainer
comes out, wearing nothing but a purple towel wrapped around his waist, yelling
hold on! I just showered, I’ll be out in a minute. Great first impression. This
guy’s two sons, whose nicknames are “Sua”=tiger, and “Singh”=lion (for reals,
their nicknames are Tiger and Lion), and are around our age, are actually the
trainers. So once a week, I meet with P’Sua or Singh to train, and it’s
actually really fun! We went to watch Singh fight in Uttaradit at their longan
festival. We piled into the back of P’Sua’s pick-up truck (thankfully a clear
night, and a blue moon! I miserably failed when I tried to explain what a blue
moon was in Thai to Singh’s dad) and headed through corn and sugar cane fields
to the next province over. The festival was waaayyyyy cooler than the festivals
that Sawankhalok has, mostly because they had bumper cars. We didn’t have time
to play the bumper cars unfortunately, which ended up turning into a dance club
by the end of the night. We watched about 8 fights, mostly kids still in middle
school or early high school, before Singh got to fight. Those kids were feisty!
Singh’s fight was much more controlled, and very structured. We made our way to
the front, just inches away from the ring, where we got a lot of attention from
the announcer for being accompanied by a white girl. I think he was talking
about us throughout the duration of Singh’s fight. They loved Singh’s
entourage. The guy that Singh fought was really calm and slow, and looked like he
was high, whereas Singh was full of energy, always with a little grin on his
face. I guess the high guy knew what he was doing though; they went through
four really good rounds, and on the fifth round he got Singh cornered and
repeatedly kneed him in the stomach, and won on a technical knockout because
Singh couldn’t continue. And after that, I decided I will never enter a Muay
Thai fight even though P’Sua keeps saying I could do it. But what I have kind
of signed myself up for is to be a Muay Thai demo, so I don’t have to actually
fight, just demonstrate how to fight. We’ll see if that happens!</div>
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Just to wrap up the end of the semester, I had my M4
students write an autobiography. I did this mostly because we did a unit on
names, and they have all had to write about where their name comes from, all
because I wanted to know how the heck Thai kids got their nicknames. I got the
funniest results. Kids are named “Nook” because their parents like to play
snooker (Thai billiards), or “Nahm” as is water, because she was born during a
flood, or even better: “looknahm”, which means mosquito larvae, because it was
a year of a flood and mosquitoes breed in still flood water. One of my best student's name is Dunkin, which Steven always said made him think of donuts. I told him that was mean and I'm sure he doesn't want to be associated with Dunkin Donuts. Then I read his essay, and he wrote that his mother had wanted to nickname him Donut, but their neighbor just had a baby and were naming him Donut, so she picked Dunkin instead! There are also a
lot of matching names, like all kids in a family will be named Kan, Kay and Kai
because they all start with the first letter of the Thai alphabet. Anyway, it
was all really interesting, and Thai people have the most interesting ways of
getting names. Here are some of my best and most favorite finals from some of
my favorite (though I say I never pick favorite) students:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQjHTO7hqHZh2RwBc31cJGF10rrjZExQlaRAy8-7cbVjwAoGX_9t3diq3j7W0-MOskINYtT7rI7JkyI1iqiDbqHFvQdpYvWECFa_65ZPJyBOcoBP6rAPFxpsdIZM5QJHHabEFsPQ9trc/s1600/IMG_0370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQjHTO7hqHZh2RwBc31cJGF10rrjZExQlaRAy8-7cbVjwAoGX_9t3diq3j7W0-MOskINYtT7rI7JkyI1iqiDbqHFvQdpYvWECFa_65ZPJyBOcoBP6rAPFxpsdIZM5QJHHabEFsPQ9trc/s400/IMG_0370.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By Hanks, in M5/5. We were focusing on new ways to express likes and dislikes.<br />
Hanks really enjoyed this lesson.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbWiFNkf3APM6y86ckOQPKbmbtvSTW3I__QTeW439om-KpPuHUsE4yyyLA-iREVQMl9w2NHI8sysAs-h78qd3Z248blOc6Lk61CbpuZJ8F3sy6-xu2_dVYTGgq-3MW45gHz2d2dSGwrM/s1600/IMG_0424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbWiFNkf3APM6y86ckOQPKbmbtvSTW3I__QTeW439om-KpPuHUsE4yyyLA-iREVQMl9w2NHI8sysAs-h78qd3Z248blOc6Lk61CbpuZJ8F3sy6-xu2_dVYTGgq-3MW45gHz2d2dSGwrM/s320/IMG_0424.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is one of the first assignments Pel has handed in,<br />
and they're always so funny when he finally does them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1neiIsscuYe5lD9VVkLF-LKM6AecJqElQt7DQ06H1oxq2060lKRZjwrVwZL8NmMAJoWew1cXFakf-ptXg2I9-pckVKF1qDOx7-3WCDjlxXgHZwGFVYGIAR_t4qK80jfNbKcbcqA4WSOA/s1600/IMG_0430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1neiIsscuYe5lD9VVkLF-LKM6AecJqElQt7DQ06H1oxq2060lKRZjwrVwZL8NmMAJoWew1cXFakf-ptXg2I9-pckVKF1qDOx7-3WCDjlxXgHZwGFVYGIAR_t4qK80jfNbKcbcqA4WSOA/s400/IMG_0430.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kao from 4/2, always a crazy imagination</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEHNmGw9icd4UIdPAkJYc458z9jJcNQfmMc0FO-jV6t0vTdrB9VCwOirxZY7Nnv1hSNIE0REMQRqrGqAmo57ZSNOEzSLckFPyvNmuiFcTE7sqS31W1UChPv9K_0JXNAnXyUsd4y8ChQQ/s1600/IMG_0431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEHNmGw9icd4UIdPAkJYc458z9jJcNQfmMc0FO-jV6t0vTdrB9VCwOirxZY7Nnv1hSNIE0REMQRqrGqAmo57ZSNOEzSLckFPyvNmuiFcTE7sqS31W1UChPv9K_0JXNAnXyUsd4y8ChQQ/s400/IMG_0431.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A good demonstration of the difference in science and English education.<br />
My students still can't write in the past tense, but they will tell you all about Albert Einstein</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8ZdiNYwYns1HcE6ZVLGx4pPDyPBdDT3aFBrrXEGX5M0SmzWcj4YOPd1H2zjwQ-xOgkv18h1VB3PU4bMK_zkOMshHhdrwZNdzg-Q-8RHBxHDLPS_N_iIiS-t_qdE_nf0PyAMhfOuLDN4/s1600/IMG_0441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8ZdiNYwYns1HcE6ZVLGx4pPDyPBdDT3aFBrrXEGX5M0SmzWcj4YOPd1H2zjwQ-xOgkv18h1VB3PU4bMK_zkOMshHhdrwZNdzg-Q-8RHBxHDLPS_N_iIiS-t_qdE_nf0PyAMhfOuLDN4/s640/IMG_0441.JPG" width="480" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gam, from 4/1 apparently has strong feelings about cucumbers and caves</td></tr>
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Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-17576037632632005732012-09-15T09:09:00.001-07:002012-09-19T08:31:48.856-07:00The scariest province in ThailandAnother funny thing about Thailand is that they are
incredibly superstitious. My students ask me alllll the time, “Teacher, glua
pii mai?” Teacher, are you scared of ghosts? I usually tell them I’m terrified
of ghosts, which is not true, but I like to hear their stories. I told a group
of students that I’ve never met a ghost in Thailand before, to which they responded,
“well of course not! Ghosts can’t speak English!” That explains so much.
Apparently ghosts are afraid of me.<br />
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So when I told my students I was going to Phrae (pronounced
preah) province for a weekend, they said “Teacher, jangwat arai naaglua ti
sut?” What is the scariest province in Thailand? The answer was “PHRAE” said is
a scary grumble with your tongue sticking out to the side and your eyes crossed
like your dead, because it sounds kind of like “pii”, which means ghost. I
realize now that writing this out, the joke isn’t that funny anymore, but I
repeated it to everyone I met all weekend. This is how to become popular in
Thailand…repeat bad jokes you learned from your students.</div>
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But in reality, Phrae is a lovely, unscary place. Its north
of Sawankhalok, along the dangerous, narrow, cliffy,
really-should-not-have-any-cars-or-over-sized-tour-buses-like-ours-on-it road
on the way to Chiang Rai. Makes for a beautiful mountain ride. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lXm4NBss4lcaYWa6JnYF2XGbGvItzX4AHcIEq8rXwkIYZr9yGr1YiEmedPkXyoIFo-YBGWwG4Mx5jh7lTjpQKLMGZ0LATCMFpxZJuH7kKQSBl26WAS-V00sVzyn9gbSsiicQKO09y18/s1600/IMG_0827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lXm4NBss4lcaYWa6JnYF2XGbGvItzX4AHcIEq8rXwkIYZr9yGr1YiEmedPkXyoIFo-YBGWwG4Mx5jh7lTjpQKLMGZ0LATCMFpxZJuH7kKQSBl26WAS-V00sVzyn9gbSsiicQKO09y18/s320/IMG_0827.JPG" width="320" /></a> I went with a
teacher I have gotten to know well this semester: Kru Gai. She teaches music,
is in her late 30’s, and loves speaking English. So she took Bryan, P'Tara and I
to her family’s home in the main city in Phrae. We arrived on Saturday around
lunch time. Her brother picked us up and took us to this beautiful restaurant
on a lake. All the tables gave their own little picnic area with a roof, benches, and
food brought to you by bicycles. Each table has its own spot on the bank of the
lake, and if you bring your own fishing pole, you can catch your own lunch! We
didn’t have fishing poles, or the time to fish, so we went with a standard fish
off the menu…and live shrimp! They served us a covered bowl with little jumping
shrimp inside. P’At, Kru Gai’s brother, mixed together a spicy, limey sauce,
poured it over the jumpy shrimp, and mashed up the ones that hadn’t already
jumped out of the bowl. What an exciting and delicious lunch!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvKnbuuQs7_olzisfjUjh3db12SKGzKw3LXzJIOAqz10MRH4vUyLjB8uvQt2syic5rdVenDzVATKbmWBzNn9trqYP5c2j_gA8KAKjPxioT6MLV-MbY-CMax8p-NQ30neIibLGkdI-ywm4/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvKnbuuQs7_olzisfjUjh3db12SKGzKw3LXzJIOAqz10MRH4vUyLjB8uvQt2syic5rdVenDzVATKbmWBzNn9trqYP5c2j_gA8KAKjPxioT6MLV-MbY-CMax8p-NQ30neIibLGkdI-ywm4/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-89_xw2IYTbAiJVplOd54g6Gz2EqPxPP93XMDYGDsxTEV2Ah2llqxJuXCsMpnYNxzWXq4AjRXiAomjuaPuvCyifbEXtiT9ecqh1H4AfLZSEXSWT5oHc8ajFBDmx9b3Gk3G2lGUnb1gI/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-89_xw2IYTbAiJVplOd54g6Gz2EqPxPP93XMDYGDsxTEV2Ah2llqxJuXCsMpnYNxzWXq4AjRXiAomjuaPuvCyifbEXtiT9ecqh1H4AfLZSEXSWT5oHc8ajFBDmx9b3Gk3G2lGUnb1gI/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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After stuffing ourselves too full, we went to one of Phrae’s
biggest attractions, “The Grand Canyon of Thailand”, but we called it the
Medium Canyon. In Phrae Muang Pii, there is a canyon like rock formation where
there used to be a river that eroded away a lot of the limestone rock. I guess
it could resemble the Grand Canyon, if you’ve never seen the Grand Canyon
before and know nothing about geology. It was definitely interesting, and
unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Thailand. There is a ghost story behind it that is
interesting too- when the Medium Canyon used to be a river bed, a woman
who was following the river got lost in the woods. She stumbled upon a stash of
gold. So she scooped it up and put it in her bags and continued on. She got
more and more lost in the woods, and she thought it was because there were ghosts in the forest that were trying to protect the gold that she had stolen. So she dropped her bags, and then was able to find her way home. When
she told the villagers her story, they entered the woods to look for the gold.
They found the bags she left behind, empty, and followed the footsteps from her bags. At the end of the footsteps, they found a coffin. And no gold.
And so this Medium Canyon attraction has been named “Phrae Muang Phii”- City of
Ghosts, Phrae. I guess Phrae really is the scariest province in Thailand.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUOTQO3sZa7B62OogOZkPIBEZkxaHBpC7a9rCDJhv25Pr-kashD4l5Q7codpqQ3MjIJfRmFRscf5tmffWsvbprLHdl5pnV5cXgEBs-3Bw-GhmbyFKakMRLD71TbM12Rcw9Uzffho_CAY/s1600/IMG_0904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUOTQO3sZa7B62OogOZkPIBEZkxaHBpC7a9rCDJhv25Pr-kashD4l5Q7codpqQ3MjIJfRmFRscf5tmffWsvbprLHdl5pnV5cXgEBs-3Bw-GhmbyFKakMRLD71TbM12Rcw9Uzffho_CAY/s320/IMG_0904.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, P'Tara, P'Gai and Bryan</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfENhYqbug-y9Im1O1ttu-Tw5uRc63ka2VywCMBkRtejuyDDgJa1t68d94spg60_5C_pSeeFPeC1ac7jFV-ANfrmeWAP5JSvBXHt5xPla8LbE-BlBsU5QHeF1hWX7IIEyOoiR9XtZ5oVY/s1600/IMG_0906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfENhYqbug-y9Im1O1ttu-Tw5uRc63ka2VywCMBkRtejuyDDgJa1t68d94spg60_5C_pSeeFPeC1ac7jFV-ANfrmeWAP5JSvBXHt5xPla8LbE-BlBsU5QHeF1hWX7IIEyOoiR9XtZ5oVY/s320/IMG_0906.JPG" width="213" /></a><br />
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But the rest of our trip was ghostless. You can thank us foreigners for that. They’re scared of us. Our next stop was a gorgeous quiet
temple that is either mimicking or is a sister temple to Doi Suthep in Chiang
Mai. I think it’s mimicking it. It was basically a replica of Doi Suthep, but
smaller, less taken care of, and not on top of a mountain. Oh, and no white
people. That’s always nice =) We did the routine candle and incense lighting and prayer before continuing on to buy matching Phrae shirts!!!</div>
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I think after those three places, we had seen all Phrae had
to offer! So we went to a cute indoor vegetable and meat market to get food for
dinner, and headed back to P’At’s humble apartment over the video rental shop he owns. They prepared an
adorable hot pot setup with a charcoal heated clay pot, and we sat on the floor
of his video store for dinner.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70fOpwE1LYCb5MnhujKZ2gNlRMy9eP9dSNNUrY5hvDtd96ph1JZyT400JEwQWAgfaJ5EJaFaB_spnouRHAM0oGl04c1itFmRELjA3hHlOqhZnyoRKGoZEkBwAYjDvfq0xtCbdajDHwo4/s1600/IMG_0124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70fOpwE1LYCb5MnhujKZ2gNlRMy9eP9dSNNUrY5hvDtd96ph1JZyT400JEwQWAgfaJ5EJaFaB_spnouRHAM0oGl04c1itFmRELjA3hHlOqhZnyoRKGoZEkBwAYjDvfq0xtCbdajDHwo4/s320/IMG_0124.JPG" width="320" /></a> We spent a few hours hanging out, eating over the slow
cooking fire, and having a few beers. Apparently his video store was open, but
there were only three people that came in for the duration of his open hours.
Two came in to drink some whisky with him, and the last one came because she
was waiting to go out drinking with us. So I’m really wondering how he makes
any money, especially because he just gave us copies of some of the movies he
has for free. But apparently he’s really popular, and now so am I, because all
his friends that came in asked for my number. (And I didn’t even tell them any bad jokes!) I now have a collection of contacts saved as "crazy guy from phrae" in my phone so I know when to not answer my phone...</div>
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Three hours after opening his store, P’At closed the
store up and took us to an awesome night club, and also paid for all our drinks
(it’s funny- he was so nice to us and treated us great..but never actually said
a word to us. All his communication was head nods yes or no, or a mini-smile.
He didn’t even seem to talk to his sister. Interesting guy) The club was
surprisingly awesome for a small city like Phrae. There was a live band, with
several males and oddly masculine females singers (each one that came out, P’Tara,
Bryan and I looked at each other and said puying? puchai?? Girl or boy?? But
P’Gai assured us that all the ones that were dressed like women were indeed
women... I don’t believe her though). I think I liked this bar so much because it was all Thai people and of a huge age range, there was plenty of
room to dance, and they played great songs. Clubs in Bangkok have none of those
characteristics.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsAKCPw0oYQR9p-zLw4QipZPrft3CfQyYWHxzoue515Tm8uOXfkKLyYGiCyDp9NCpoSP2ewAAj9M0C9ibwV7QIkHnb09FuDk6jaGBpLbTiN17jrp7GQ3jnOuo8wUyV41WlkiUk_9upsQ/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsAKCPw0oYQR9p-zLw4QipZPrft3CfQyYWHxzoue515Tm8uOXfkKLyYGiCyDp9NCpoSP2ewAAj9M0C9ibwV7QIkHnb09FuDk6jaGBpLbTiN17jrp7GQ3jnOuo8wUyV41WlkiUk_9upsQ/s200/IMG_0127.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">small bird laab</td></tr>
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In the morning, before we headed home to Sawankhalok, we
made a pit stop at P’Gai’s parents farm outside the city. We had fresh kanon
kroc- Phrae’s trademark snack, and a northern style breakfast her mother had
prepared for us: wild sticky rice, laab, pickled something, and some soup thing
I can’t really describe but it had a lot of yummy vegetables. Everything was
really salty, and we spent the entire breakfast debating what kind of meat was
in the laab. Turns out it was “small bird”. Apparently I'm not so crazy about rural northern food. I think it was all the saltiness. Or maybe it was the minor hangover. After breakfast, we walked around her village for a
bit, but it was hard to tell what land was hers and what was her neighbors’. So
much farmland out there! But I guess that is a lot of Thailand- rice fields
forever….</div>
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After the English Study Tour, the wedding/weekend in Chiang
Mai, then the trip to Phrae, I had to spend the next weekend teaching at an English camp at a school in
Sri Satchanalai. It had been over a month since I had a
relaxing weekend at home in Sawnakhalok, and I was starting to get burnt out. I
have also been training some of my students to compete in an ASEAN competition
(Association of Southeast Asian Nations- Asia’s version of the European Union,
which is going into effect in 2015), and it has been occupying every lunch
period and free time after school to train these students. (I now know more
about ASEAN than American history and can tell you all about “Economic trends
for Thais in ASEAN in 2015”-the ridiculous speech topic given to the high
school students that still can’t speak about themselves in English for five
full minutes). On Friday, the competition day finally came, and my amazing
students that I trained for the English quiz were ecstatic. They had an
outrageous opening ceremony that was filled with ASEAN music, costumes and
confetti, (I taught my students the words corny, and cheesy) all because they had
a famous guest speaker attending- Andrew Biggs. He’s like the third most famous
farang in Thailand (yes I have a ranking) and I got to see him in real life.
He’s a famous English teacher that is on all learning-English advertisements
all over the country and has written a ton of books, in English about learning
Thai, and in Thai about learning English. When I found out he was going to be there
(granted I also just found out WHO he was the day before…) my new goal for the
competition was to shake his hand, not for my students to win. Well, I didn’t
get to shake his hand, but my students won 4<sup>th</sup> place for the English
quiz and <i>they</i> got to shake his hand! And I took a picture. So I’ll count it as a
success. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWxQaF4sq27tfzJb0WB_LDBVN_NmuEnIy4AgmxfTZdH_hslER-wrtboOjf8-veXoHWGWBbPIyjFEkuTZ2trz4DB21kAFDEt9-EJ_Tg7SKUaqsrdpINhDuTMdiFa1CL9QeDSATMJqEgDs/s1600/IMG_0257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWxQaF4sq27tfzJb0WB_LDBVN_NmuEnIy4AgmxfTZdH_hslER-wrtboOjf8-veXoHWGWBbPIyjFEkuTZ2trz4DB21kAFDEt9-EJ_Tg7SKUaqsrdpINhDuTMdiFa1CL9QeDSATMJqEgDs/s640/IMG_0257.JPG" width="640" /></a>Anyway, the whole thing was exhausting and was not what I wanted to
focus on on top of all the work I’m currently wrapped up with in my classes. So
when my friend invited me to teach a camp in Uttaradit that weekend, the day
after the ASEAN competition, I was looking for any legitimate excuse to tell
him no. Luckily I had run into Kru Phet, the gym teacher I was good friends
with last year who moved back to Sukhothai to work on his parents’ farm, and he
invited me to hang out with his family whom I love very dearly. So I quickly
jumped on the opportunity and put any English teaching responsibilities behind.
P’Tara, P’Be and I spent a night with his wonderful family, drove around his
hundreds of rai of rice fields, watched the sunset over Phu Kao Luang- the
mountain in Pitsanulok, and played poker (by play, I mean watch) until the wee
hours of the night. It was glorious- exactly the break I needed after some
really stressful weeks. (who knew the sabai sabai life in Thailand could get so
tiring!) The next morning, I got to try my luck at cards and challenge the big
boys to rummy. There rules are a little different to how my dad has shown me
how to play Thai rummy, but I caught on quick, and kicked their butts! Then Kru
Phet borrowed all the money I won to play poker, and lost it all again. Oh
well, at least they’ll let me play with them now.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kru Phet's nieces and nephews that I'm kidnapping from Sukhothai</td></tr>
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Finally, last weekend, I got to stay home and relax! My plans to sleep in all weekend got interrupted by a wakeup call on Saturday morning to get coffee at my favorite coffee shop with P'Buddy, a really goofy old man that "teaches" English, but only talks to me in Thai, and an early visit to the temple on Sunday morning. I had visited the temple in Sawankhalok on Friday with Ton Nahm,
the visiting French student, (his name is Antoine, but his Thai nickname is easier to pronounce) for meditation, but there was no meditation that
day. So we sat down with my favorite monk, the head of the temple who gave me the amulet on my birthday, and he asked me how Ton Nahm was doing (he loves Ton Nahm!), so I had be the translator. I was so excited to talk with my favorite monk, since I haven't been able to talk to him since my birthday, and my Thai has gotten much better since then and now I can actually talk to him. He told me that many people my age like to wear make-up to make themselves beautiful, but I don't need to wear make-up because I smile when I speak. What a cool thing to say! So anyway, he asked
us to come on Sunday morning because it is a Buddhist holiday. We were supposed
to go at 6:30 AM for the start of the ceremony, to which Ton Nahm instantly
said no. I had to wait for it to stop pouring rain to make the bike ride across
town, so by the time I got there, the ceremony was half way over and I was
soaking wet anyway. I felt like an idiot because at first I walked into a
funeral, thinking it was the Buddhist holiday ceremony, then quickly ran up the stairs to where
the other monks were, totally embarrassed. Out of breath, I sat down in the
back and looked around at the sea of people all dressed in white, then looked at myself, dressed in black pants
and a blue tee shirt. Everyone also had a bowl of cooked food and a basket for the monks, and
I had a plastic bag of dried ramen to donate. This is the last time I’m
going to a temple to tambun without BaNee. But all my worries and mishaps
melted away with the remainder of the ceremony. I listened to the echo of my
favorite monk chanting in the second floor of the huge, open air temple. I don’t
think I can explain how beautiful it was, seeing the row of monks meditating in
their okra robes, and the wall behind them covered with beautiful blues and touches of red and orange that displayed the story of the Buddha, and just
above the mural were open windows, with only thin bars obstructing the view of
the light rain falling in the green forest behind the temple. Love this temple. The
ceremony lasted only another 45 minutes, and I frantically rushed to the front
of the temple to give my favorite monk my pathetic donation of ramen noodles. I
bowed to him three times, and apologized for not knowing what was appropriate
to bring. He gratefully accepted my food, and blessed me despite my faux paus.
For the second time that weekend, I couldn’t stop smiling, The first time being when at the temple on Friday. Even though the monks love Ton Nahm more
than me, and don’t remember my name but always ask about Ton Nahm and ask him to go
on trips with them that I can't go on cause I have to teach, I love that temple so much!! and just feel so happy when I
am there. Part of the magic of Sawankhalok. </div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-84802839902768459412012-08-23T08:34:00.001-07:002012-08-24T02:25:52.748-07:00English Study Tour 2012- “F Team” Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Every year, the foreign language department hosts an expensive trip and calls it the “English Study Tour” (by expensive, I mean 60$ per student- and incredibly pricey three day excursion by Sawankhalok standards). Though it sounds like the trip is about English, don’t be deceived. The only English thing about it is that all the farang teachers are on the trip. It’s a genius idea.</div>
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They picked the four day “candle festival” weekend to hold the trip. We spent over a month putting together this trip, and the office was a hectic mess the few weeks leading up to it. On Wednesday evening, we met at the poorly lit, heavily trafficked four way intersection by the night market, where we had to run back and forth across the street to transport the loads of snacks. I asked if it would make more sense to have the bus come to this side of the street to pick up all the snacks, but the response was no, we’ll just have the students do it. So our troop of students had to sprint across the intersection with the traffic light that stops working as soon as it gets dark out to stock our buses with more than enough snacks. But no one died, so we were off to a good start. We also didn’t leave anyone behind, except Tara and Be when we stopped 50 meters later for water, but we didn’t get too far when we noticed they hadn't gotten back on the bus.</div>
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There were three tour buses with 50 kids each. The F Team was in charge of one bus (those poor students), the young Thai teachers on another, and the old Thai teachers on their own bus. Let me tell you a little about tour buses in Thailand. First of all, no tour bus is complete without a colorful painting covering the outside of the bus. It often looks like the painter was on acid, with neon paintings of fantasy images like fairies or super heros. Or Finding Nemo. That was on our bus. The double decker bus features seats upstairs with a TV, karaoke machine, and disco lights, and anything else you might need for an all night party, and the downstairs is equipped with a lounge and a toilet. By the way, music on tour buses is louder than at a concert.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLRr_HalO2MvmFnDMooi3eVaAcdcNgD5IrfVlrQnh1RYy-NT7b7xRWpHbPObQu58t9-sCjc_BF6OOBXXWTfxvJ2wHzdwTnrrCGLHx-9oel7wlPLlQ6mLxoq0XtblkvPz6Ggo5XPjooWk/s1600/IMG_2705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLRr_HalO2MvmFnDMooi3eVaAcdcNgD5IrfVlrQnh1RYy-NT7b7xRWpHbPObQu58t9-sCjc_BF6OOBXXWTfxvJ2wHzdwTnrrCGLHx-9oel7wlPLlQ6mLxoq0XtblkvPz6Ggo5XPjooWk/s320/IMG_2705.JPG" width="320" /></a>We had an incredibly humble group of students on our bus (all the studious 8<sup>th</sup> graders wound up on our bus together), so thankfully our overnight ride to the beach had only some karaoke, then fun Thai movies for the rest of the night. We arrived at Cha-Am around 7 in the morning, got our rooms sorted and started the day. We had our few hours of English activities (mostly dancing and singing Thai songs, and the only English activity we had was like pulling teeth, so we quickly forfeit the battle) before letting them go to the beach. Unfortunately there were a bunch of jellyfish (which is apparently really hard to explain if you don’t know the word for jellyfish in Thai), so I went for a second serving of coconut ice cream instead of continuing to swim.</div>
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And that was the only down time we had for the next three days. From then on, we were on the road, stopping at every market between Cha-Am and Sawankhalok. We went to an antique market that night in Hua Hin, the neighboring beach town, after having dinner at the night market down the road. Between each stop, we had to load the kids back onto the bus, and drive what would have been a 20 minute walk, but take an hour to get to because it took so long to get on the bus, then sit in the beach side traffic. But we filled our bus time with dancing in the aisles of the upstairs of the bus, and really the bus rides were more fun than sprinting through each market in our allotted 60-minute time slot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigk01NFIhym6zvoCK-LBzw473_50i9gKqlhkgkCPBRxID62TCJSjcDha9pQTizuXl5A8QxAVfA3Tftho6F3wKQM9jArNBHaq55ZtAHZvwnch4Mbewfto1n6kMygg47JWraNiDhOk2k9s0/s1600/IMG_2716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigk01NFIhym6zvoCK-LBzw473_50i9gKqlhkgkCPBRxID62TCJSjcDha9pQTizuXl5A8QxAVfA3Tftho6F3wKQM9jArNBHaq55ZtAHZvwnch4Mbewfto1n6kMygg47JWraNiDhOk2k9s0/s200/IMG_2716.JPG" width="200" /></a>In the morning, we made a 40 minute trip to the exciting part of Cha-Am beach, where I had gone with Tara and Be last summer. With forty minutes, we couldn’t really do much…so we rented two three-person tandem bikes, and biked for 20 minutes then biked back. Certainly 40 minutes well spent. Tandem bikes are hilarious. And then we kind of held the bus up by an extra 15 minutes because we had to have a photo shoot with the bikes. What kind of F-Team would we be if we didn’t do farangy things like rent a three person bike and spend 15 minutes taking pictures with it in front of the beach?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0XnBeAwTzvbGgt0z03FCtPMMdZ_1hn0MY0LSMqRWjl06QGe_4BkcRzn8PGwy2pmgHMzvC9q1WeCuITsjlaRYp_m7h2Ks8C5b6kLZuVZeKasjxrtcp6QUSxB9ZCPzHmtgA1heRh4AO78/s1600/IMG_2729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0XnBeAwTzvbGgt0z03FCtPMMdZ_1hn0MY0LSMqRWjl06QGe_4BkcRzn8PGwy2pmgHMzvC9q1WeCuITsjlaRYp_m7h2Ks8C5b6kLZuVZeKasjxrtcp6QUSxB9ZCPzHmtgA1heRh4AO78/s400/IMG_2729.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAEHcaTrH_tEpQbQdCs8FsrCXIIo0vXQtoO7Y_hwyd6QALByEY4sgJeGknyvr44HNMKsMeje6_Umu04WSCV69fbIx79koG8bEdWU4sdrnHMbmlto_UoZ_I7xmx-IkNsJI4-Gwk01sZN8/s1600/IMG_2741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAEHcaTrH_tEpQbQdCs8FsrCXIIo0vXQtoO7Y_hwyd6QALByEY4sgJeGknyvr44HNMKsMeje6_Umu04WSCV69fbIx79koG8bEdWU4sdrnHMbmlto_UoZ_I7xmx-IkNsJI4-Gwk01sZN8/s320/IMG_2741.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our next stop was the highlight of our trip, and everyone’s favorite (but most expensive) stop. We went to Santorini Park, a new amusement park in Hua Hin. Though you have to pay the equivalent of 15 dollars per ride, an outrageous price for anything in Thailand, it was just as exciting to see how much fun you could have had if the rides weren’t so expensive. I did go on one ride with one of my M4 students that was attached to my hip the whole trip, and my new best friend, an M1 boy who I have named Tiki Tiki Tembo because I can’t remember his nickname that is probably something easier like Game or Jap. I gave him this name because he was going to be in our play of Tiki Tiki Tembo, but we didn’t have time to perform it, so he didn’t get his chance to shine. They had their money in hand and were ready to do this 20 dollar ride with me, so I invested in the cause to please my students. I didn’t really take a good look at the ride until after we got our tickets, and I watched the people in front of us go on the ride. It’s kind of like a sling shot into the air, with elastic bands holding the passengers from flying into the neighboring mountains. Wonderful. So my two students sat on either side of me in the three-person ride, and I held their hands tight. The guys strapping us in gave the instructions in Thai, which I opted to not listen to, until Faii translated the last part for me… “he says, don’t close your eyes”. And we were ready to go. We were slowly elevated from the ground as the elastic tightened, the tension growing and growing. Tiki Tiki Tembo grabbed my hand hard, anticipating the shock. With absolutely no indiciation of when the elastic would snap us into the air, we impatiently waited, eyes squeezed shut, hands squeezed tight. A minute or two of over anticipation....and we were SHOT what seemed like miles into the air, and in less than a second snapped back towards the ground, spinning around and upside down, until we faced the ground as we fell straight down. That was the worst part, falling face first to the ground at an uncontrollable speed. Just as we were about to crash, we were pulled back into the air by those unforgiving elastic ropes. The ride slowed as we coasted to a suspended stop. And it was over faster than it had started. Faii had a huge smile on her face, saying she has never been so scared for her life. I looked over at Tiki Tiki Tembo, and asked how it was. He said, he was not okay. And he begged me to get off the ride. He started crying and begged me over and over to get off the ride. The descent back to earth took a painfully long time, and I squeezed Tiki Tiki Tembo’s hand and urged him to breathe with me until we could get off. Stepping back onto the platform, I felt really dizzy myself and thought I was going to throw up. That nauseating feeling stuck with me (and Tiki Tiki Tembo) for a long time, but it was somewhat relieved when we watched Bryan go on a similar ride. It was a swingy version of what we went on, and way less scary, but we forgot our nauseousness by laughing at Bryan screaming “Call my mother, call my mother!” “Not fun, not fun. I don’t like this” throughout the entire ride. We probably shouldn’t have laughed at him, but it was too funny.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECz1D4UY6LdHhmRYG6NjOoKCRwcUUsfJ9f7O4X_1BAwuEoj9CD_G5htQitiJWlOS2g5yzMdyBWeQ2dPBHadzzPGU2XOd4SiVzl47aMPPbGPkWC_G4SB6w30W80Jo0UQqjN3X7uLJRuoA/s1600/IMG_2763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECz1D4UY6LdHhmRYG6NjOoKCRwcUUsfJ9f7O4X_1BAwuEoj9CD_G5htQitiJWlOS2g5yzMdyBWeQ2dPBHadzzPGU2XOd4SiVzl47aMPPbGPkWC_G4SB6w30W80Jo0UQqjN3X7uLJRuoA/s400/IMG_2763.JPG" width="400" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIO56WjNvuN_WrsutF7otmYqmj1fYKyf-4nGNpQ1HEWnY5tH2ztS4_LKgDF6sd542FP9Ud9IwePyhl4VkquFI9n0oSLmBnlmcWVUOizTdTM0_40bFZD3M1NcLnuQrSgi96anwoPk0fums/s1600/IMG_2768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIO56WjNvuN_WrsutF7otmYqmj1fYKyf-4nGNpQ1HEWnY5tH2ztS4_LKgDF6sd542FP9Ud9IwePyhl4VkquFI9n0oSLmBnlmcWVUOizTdTM0_40bFZD3M1NcLnuQrSgi96anwoPk0fums/s200/IMG_2768.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MRernFrZyKUYbzoqC0uFfUuZQnQ0RakPsaT4-rLLhsJ0nARunLogEAi5rnP3irPzokNpsLu8IPtVCythsC4S2BTVuqdS3GitZk-rS2pasEH24tJ-zApM5y3QmBtkgrr6fYSAc5_wEa0/s1600/IMG_2769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MRernFrZyKUYbzoqC0uFfUuZQnQ0RakPsaT4-rLLhsJ0nARunLogEAi5rnP3irPzokNpsLu8IPtVCythsC4S2BTVuqdS3GitZk-rS2pasEH24tJ-zApM5y3QmBtkgrr6fYSAc5_wEa0/s320/IMG_2769.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0efIjnR7EOrfuvIyQcmLtydMrGL2uaEn_PYBd62J_38HYSYt7B0ccW0OVATD6K3YJXK5gZ9ovvqzrS730vbRvrgf1k3B-1G5G3fbRoF-CFrcnX5EokoWUnycvU3gJpBXhth7Patvo0QE/s1600/IMG_2857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0efIjnR7EOrfuvIyQcmLtydMrGL2uaEn_PYBd62J_38HYSYt7B0ccW0OVATD6K3YJXK5gZ9ovvqzrS730vbRvrgf1k3B-1G5G3fbRoF-CFrcnX5EokoWUnycvU3gJpBXhth7Patvo0QE/s320/IMG_2857.JPG" width="320" /></a>After all the nauseous fun at Santorini, and an unappetizing meal on the bus, we were dancing our way to the floating market. Thailand used to have a bunch of these floating markets, particularly around Bangkok, when the canals through the city were a common mode of transportation, much like Venice. Now that many of the canals have been paved over to make room for over-congested over-crowded Bangkok, the remaining floating markets are rare…and touristy. Some are cooler than others. This was not one of them. The deceiving name “floating market” leads one to believe that most of the commerce happens via long-tailed boats that come up to your boat to make you delicious hoi tort. Instead there are hundreds of street vendors obstructing the path to the canal that sell tee-shirts, over-priced coconut juice, and cheesy souvenirs like matchboxes that have “Amphawa” printed on them. Yes, I bought all of those things, and ice cream. The canal itself is fairly narrow, and had more empty boats looking for passengers than vendor boats. We decided to take a break from more and more shopping, and hailed a long-tailed boat cab. Some of our students were passing by as we were getting on the boat, so we kidnapped them to come tour with us. For 50 bhat, we had 2 hours to go wherever we wanted.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggc7iQmzHCLoRZcg3zNC2KKpuT1DNA-tbUd_xT87xJoWPy9omdrA4U_93A1kCwfDd5DBJz_sd4rwKUB0n4cb7Ha6woITJta-R1hHA29VVjxzWjNhjcEqlMh45uOCIp_TZjxFTJxlEc6g0/s1600/IMG_5296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggc7iQmzHCLoRZcg3zNC2KKpuT1DNA-tbUd_xT87xJoWPy9omdrA4U_93A1kCwfDd5DBJz_sd4rwKUB0n4cb7Ha6woITJta-R1hHA29VVjxzWjNhjcEqlMh45uOCIp_TZjxFTJxlEc6g0/s320/IMG_5296.JPG" width="320" /></a>So the boat driver took us out of the market, out into the open river, and to a nearby temple on the opposite bank. All of students agreed: this temple was the most beautiful temple we had ever seen and it was completely empty except for the monks conducting a meditation session. The inside of the temple was covered in intricately carved wood, except for the golden Buddha in the middle. We sat inside the cool temple for probably half an hour, and examined the carvings, trying to put together the story it was depicting on all the walls. It was a very calming and humbling moment, in the midst of a crazy weekend.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDFDD-pQmySNBwZv4A4yeNC1Esaecn1raiYGA1MU1qROlIHrEzAlgSY19PS9KjCZef0M5KOv3TWMYNYplhZqjVVc7GFGgi4evvRmcZmJcjGVlKxlBvErBiUV4iLaql3YfDXbBwjMWgqYE/s1600/IMG_2832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDFDD-pQmySNBwZv4A4yeNC1Esaecn1raiYGA1MU1qROlIHrEzAlgSY19PS9KjCZef0M5KOv3TWMYNYplhZqjVVc7GFGgi4evvRmcZmJcjGVlKxlBvErBiUV4iLaql3YfDXbBwjMWgqYE/s200/IMG_2832.JPG" width="200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ecURpH8UPeqAanh-QRvk1bD3V4KbQaZatavp5qhT_KrETIBa7m7OxA64tAeMuWN0J4Uw4W68SDf7KzqWvorZ1p7H3k0Qf5rysmfaEkQVHCbO8sNCbzUPM8YNtduYi9-fdF62KNxIabI/s1600/IMG_2834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ecURpH8UPeqAanh-QRvk1bD3V4KbQaZatavp5qhT_KrETIBa7m7OxA64tAeMuWN0J4Uw4W68SDf7KzqWvorZ1p7H3k0Qf5rysmfaEkQVHCbO8sNCbzUPM8YNtduYi9-fdF62KNxIabI/s200/IMG_2834.JPG" width="200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnd3RnXh-urZKu60aWpmRfpJVt89Tux5-jMqGRtUsnMJs8eIGJuPuDrvaZ6TCCUAHmb5_vx-ePSx4mUy42F1SKveQgjJj4BxcP6anN6ycT6F4eiYcTGyg3vE7ZCCbd1ibCEdojer5FeKE/s1600/IMG_2839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnd3RnXh-urZKu60aWpmRfpJVt89Tux5-jMqGRtUsnMJs8eIGJuPuDrvaZ6TCCUAHmb5_vx-ePSx4mUy42F1SKveQgjJj4BxcP6anN6ycT6F4eiYcTGyg3vE7ZCCbd1ibCEdojer5FeKE/s200/IMG_2839.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNn_Bok0i0pz-gbzHERT4raeJUTVh_l1bXE6zmlteN1dBqNaXuuJZXA9QRBRgLqotRu-tgwOMREhS6IP8SJ3CK5dAUCw6GpC4Q61CIOJ5wMKoF72qYDOCcgxw629y4S_RalzzRsqKYBb4/s1600/IMG_2861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNn_Bok0i0pz-gbzHERT4raeJUTVh_l1bXE6zmlteN1dBqNaXuuJZXA9QRBRgLqotRu-tgwOMREhS6IP8SJ3CK5dAUCw6GpC4Q61CIOJ5wMKoF72qYDOCcgxw629y4S_RalzzRsqKYBb4/s320/IMG_2861.JPG" width="320" /></a>And back on the bus! More dancing and singing on the way to the hotel. The second night we stayed in a resort with cabins built over a lake, connected by their front porches. Can you imagine, being in 7<sup>th</sup> grade, and spending the night in a cabin with 7 of your best friends, with essentially no supervision? (the boys had to stay in a separate, but similar resort down the road). And what did the students want to do? Hang out with their farang teachers! Tara and I took a walk around the resort around 9PM, and were pulled into almost all of the cabins in the resort to hang out with the students. We hung out in a group of 7<sup>th</sup> graders' cabin for about an hour, before one of the Thai teachers had to come in and yell at the kids (and farang teachers) for being too loud! She laughed when she saw me, and asked why they were bothering me in my room. I felt bad correcting her, and told her no, we are bothering them in their room! The girls escorted us back to our cabin, so that no ghosts came to scare us on the walk back. So who are the chaperones on this trip?</div>
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In the morning, we started our long journey back home. I don’t know who’s idea this was, but we deviated from our painstakingly thorough itinerary to stop at a teddy bear factory?? And this was where we decided to take our group photo…though it was a ridiculous stop, the giant teddy bears totally made the picture better. I’m not gonna talk any more about this stop, because I want to erase it from my memory- it was that lame. Except for the part where we all got to make little baby teddy bears, and decorate their faces ourselves.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFI7MeHohFJG9AkDOjUDhTrMmx7Z_qCLuB-CDy7agi9DPqbPAWZiitQljMECNnS318neCBs_OXxK4FFd0UBOnLCpLOJBiKW7T-TiPK2s8BZpj-BeuENx-A-RzIutv1708sNmoPBHHvhg/s1600/306785_401749386540828_654192331_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFI7MeHohFJG9AkDOjUDhTrMmx7Z_qCLuB-CDy7agi9DPqbPAWZiitQljMECNnS318neCBs_OXxK4FFd0UBOnLCpLOJBiKW7T-TiPK2s8BZpj-BeuENx-A-RzIutv1708sNmoPBHHvhg/s320/306785_401749386540828_654192331_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqJurJ2t6G2S2CJcZJbuea-xxkRQFh1_19Zt0Fazogbzb3tCCXBCMZ9TW7HN9mDlqcBtfj96a2qSVOYB7R3QDdPiu4KDtC_Ht697OY0K97_6ZejPRvl7X6LIfg_G3jtXjjACOC2zcfIU/s1600/562750_490242237670522_228676193_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqJurJ2t6G2S2CJcZJbuea-xxkRQFh1_19Zt0Fazogbzb3tCCXBCMZ9TW7HN9mDlqcBtfj96a2qSVOYB7R3QDdPiu4KDtC_Ht697OY0K97_6ZejPRvl7X6LIfg_G3jtXjjACOC2zcfIU/s200/562750_490242237670522_228676193_n.jpg" width="148" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmfjDyLkwsJ2KlmcWh9E8ijviL2_zgDJYMezt80EkkSXEFzXMEpQSOPXXXZcqVeTfToLNk75M7smXxww3G8ZOlm56kT8TUWF10y1S6YuJPyOr_4ssem9S6iTBTzkBTBn9mo24P03bHZU/s1600/IMG_2925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmfjDyLkwsJ2KlmcWh9E8ijviL2_zgDJYMezt80EkkSXEFzXMEpQSOPXXXZcqVeTfToLNk75M7smXxww3G8ZOlm56kT8TUWF10y1S6YuJPyOr_4ssem9S6iTBTzkBTBn9mo24P03bHZU/s200/IMG_2925.JPG" width="200" /></a>Our last stop before returning safe and sound in Sawankhalok was where else but... at a market! We went to Talaad Roi Et, or Samchuk market in Saphanburi. They had the same variety of key chains, tee shirts, and bags as Amphawa, but with “Samchuck” smeared on the front. As much as I love open air markets, once you’ve seen one…you’ve really seen them all. But as I accidentally made into a habit at every stop on this trip, I got my ice cream. Coconut ice cream in a coconut shell with peanuts on top. For 50 cents. Unbeatable.</div>
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Though exhausted and starting to feel sick, none of us were really ready to go home. The last hour of the ride home, all the kids were groaning “mai yak glapbhan…” I don’t want to go home. But I don’t think any of us would have survived another day. I slept the entire next day, only getting out of bed to get dinner, and going right back to sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.</div>
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To top the weekend of crazy student love, the following weekend was a complete 360. My cousin’s friend, P’Krit, was getting married to a Dutch man she met from the motorcycle gang. If there is anything stranger than the chopper gang in Thailand, it’s all of them being in Sawankhalok at once for a wedding.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgsydxZFdwFca0cdphO1e-cE_R2rINcfbrNLySJv86S1PKdD36ONWTIPfcdRBOyBegC1kYxROJkGvIwpAWB-1L2oiTYgj9C52yepzw2w_ihGHXAPebRmtWERUPkrmjUqkIfoM9MnOykk/s1600/IMG_2954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgsydxZFdwFca0cdphO1e-cE_R2rINcfbrNLySJv86S1PKdD36ONWTIPfcdRBOyBegC1kYxROJkGvIwpAWB-1L2oiTYgj9C52yepzw2w_ihGHXAPebRmtWERUPkrmjUqkIfoM9MnOykk/s320/IMG_2954.JPG" width="240" /></a>BaNee picked me up early in the morning for the traditional Thai ceremony. They had a session with the monks, preceding the march from house to house, a drunk guy leading the calls, and the rest of the procession shouting in response. We approached P’Krit’s house where the morning ceremony had been held, and BaNee and I ran up to the balcony to watch. I don’t know if this is how all weddings go, but this was hilarious. I guess the groom is supposed to go through a series of barriers to get to the bride, who is waiting upstairs. But all the barriers were old Thai women, probably P’Krit’s aunts or grandmother or something. But since he can’t speak Thai, he was accompanied by boisterous Thai women. The old women and the groom's body guards would shout at each other and argue, meanwhile someone is going crazy on the bongos, and they would only let the groom and entourage through once he’s paid the agreed upon price, none of which he would have a say in because he can’t speak Thai. He had to go past several old women, until he was finally granted access to find his bride who was hiding upstairs, and then they made a huge offering to the Buddha and did some more ritual things I didn’t understand and can’t begin to describe. But BaNee got bored at this point, so we peaced out and got lunch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb_QllF_OtAFaxv0bT4URDXs3y3s4rVQ2X9nF-i_Ps06P4-9dtQdJuyOxFWx0nncjXTUIxu5ywSiji-abMhCayDX_Pvv0xiQho7qg0VcUmoVwKMXzWf_1xQ3Ed9p0daKmc_ef80D-yYM/s1600/IMG_2971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb_QllF_OtAFaxv0bT4URDXs3y3s4rVQ2X9nF-i_Ps06P4-9dtQdJuyOxFWx0nncjXTUIxu5ywSiji-abMhCayDX_Pvv0xiQho7qg0VcUmoVwKMXzWf_1xQ3Ed9p0daKmc_ef80D-yYM/s320/IMG_2971.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every offering needs a bottle or two of Blend Whisky</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_XvmB-8hKJG-ZiXzac01x0x0c91M2L7cmaTf_Oti33ncbUzbIg2-s7rZ7242pijYrkn94mp88diXMy3WuQFo2UFXxnRnHeDxeU2G7CIARYEWCLCfLCjejkTXp_p-1XQdLNErCrGtkmA/s1600/IMG_2958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_XvmB-8hKJG-ZiXzac01x0x0c91M2L7cmaTf_Oti33ncbUzbIg2-s7rZ7242pijYrkn94mp88diXMy3WuQFo2UFXxnRnHeDxeU2G7CIARYEWCLCfLCjejkTXp_p-1XQdLNErCrGtkmA/s200/IMG_2958.JPG" width="200" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIscyA4pOplQSPLpzFdGbnp8TfxuNtQOQjUiQTzFJ_whvu29V6vu_nf7iHnPciJKhAMQ6EcvyLotbpelxbY3QhWQwu7eevv2EZ8tnTjr-XxIu1J_EorijA0znQsZ43SZ1tMduiLKHmCxQ/s1600/IMG_2974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIscyA4pOplQSPLpzFdGbnp8TfxuNtQOQjUiQTzFJ_whvu29V6vu_nf7iHnPciJKhAMQ6EcvyLotbpelxbY3QhWQwu7eevv2EZ8tnTjr-XxIu1J_EorijA0znQsZ43SZ1tMduiLKHmCxQ/s320/IMG_2974.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHJVKGsG0-2cUCB3O8WbXkH_VI7V0L3Qewe2jmRYu-56rXafepcIbGK6MyNgePo-HHNYN8sjm8PR-8XieePKYw7vrIzWr9IH1in9CTVqNczSSTci-Kc5opJ474bes7dqn7CGyFrV3wEM/s1600/IMG_2962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHJVKGsG0-2cUCB3O8WbXkH_VI7V0L3Qewe2jmRYu-56rXafepcIbGK6MyNgePo-HHNYN8sjm8PR-8XieePKYw7vrIzWr9IH1in9CTVqNczSSTci-Kc5opJ474bes7dqn7CGyFrV3wEM/s200/IMG_2962.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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That evening, I went back to P’Krit’s for the party. I was supposed to go with the German guy that lives in Sawankhalok, and his wife (if I’ve never mentioned the German guy before, he and his friend live in Sawankhalok but can’t speak English. So whenever I see him, we speak Thai with each other….really weird to speak Thai with a German guy), but I thought my cousin was coming to the wedding, so I was waiting for him. Turns out he couldn’t make it, so I ventured there on my own, and ran into the German guy’s wife later in the evening, and she was beyond wasted. Hilarious.</div>
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When I first arrived, I luckily found P’Krit as soon as I walked up to her brother’s mukata restaurant. Knowing P’Krit has been really cool- though many people don’t think very highly of her because she’s not your typical modest Thai girl (wearing whatever she wants, showing off her tattoos and peircings), everyone knows her brother because of his restaurant, and apparently he’s rich from it. Now, her brother, P’Meng, knows me too. And always greets me when I come to his restaurant. I don't know why knowing P'Meng feels like knowing a famous person..he's just a casual, every-day guy that just so happens to own an incredibly successful hot pot/do-it-yourself BBQ restaurant. So I got to the party, and P’Krit tried to find a suitable crowd for me to sit with. The Sukhothai bike gang was there, and I recognized some of them, but none of them were people I have ever had a conversation with. So I sat with P’Dew, a very pregnant woman that works in the office at Sawananan, and Eugene, a dentist that was born in India, studied in the Philippines, and landed himself in Sawankhalok where he’s been working at a clinic for the past 10 years. I think he was the first English speaker to move to Sawankhalok, and knows its secrets very well. So dinner was much more interesting than I anticipated, as he translated all the conversations around me, and told me the background of almost everyone in sight. Meanwhile, P’Dew basically ate mukata for three hours straight, not really talking to anyone, and not really listening to anything either. Just grilling and eating the whole time.</div>
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Later in the night, after NOT catching P’Krit’s bouquet (my chances of staying in Thailand growing slimmer and slimmer…), I was inevitably approached by some of the farang at the party. There were people from all nine chapters of biker clubs in Thailand, and about half of them are old farang men. So I had some really boring conversations with an Australian guy, a few Dutch men, and I think an Irish guy. (But I was the only American! And also, the only white girl). I also met the founder of the first biker club from Chiang Mai, P’Moo. He was my favorite- his English was flawless, yet he kept talking to me in Thai and insisting he couldn’t speak English well enough to talk to an English teacher. And of course, as soon as they found I was an English teacher, my name was forgotten and I was called "kon Kru", or teacher, for the rest of the night. As I was heading home, I told P’Moo I was planning on heading to Chiang Mai the next day to meet my friends (the F-team) who were already there. He told me he and the rest of the Chiang Mai gang was heading up to Chiang Mai too, and I was welcome to join them on their ride up.</div>
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It seemed like a really good idea at the time. And when I woke up at 7 the next morning to catch the 8 o’clock bus, it seemed like a super-good idea. So I went back to sleep and waited for P’Moo to call. When 10 o'clock rolled around, and I hadn’t heard from anyone, I decided to call and wake up P’Moo. I finally met them for noon for breakfast at my favorite riverside restaurant. The normally quiet, empty restaurant was stampeded with farang and Thai bikers. I felt like I was in another Sawankhalok, seeing all these white people in my restaurant. Apparently, every time they meet up in Sawankhalok, they come here for their hangover breakfast, and they're known quite well by the staff. By the time we got on the road, it was nearing 1:30, the time I would have arrived in Chiang Mai if I had caught the morning bus. No worries, I was having fun with these guys. And the drunk woman I sat next to in the car affectionately called me her daughter, (it was Mother’s Day in Thailand, and when I told her Happy Mother’s Day, she gave me a big kiss on the cheek and told me her own daughters forgot it was mother’s day) and let me sleep on her lap for most of the ride up, so I felt loved and happy. Until we stopped for a snack not even an hour into the trip. We were still in Sukhothai province, and had to stop so "Mer" (mother) could get another beer. After our hour long stop, we drove straight through Lampang, and made one more stop just before entering Chiang Mai province (so close…). By this time it was about 5:00, and the F-team was waiting up for me. The whole biker crew- 9 choppers and the four people in our car- met at a restaurant. They were half way through their first bottle of whisky when our car got there, and when they opened a second, I figured there was no chance I was going to get to Chiang Mai in time to do anything, so I might as well join in on the second bottle. So we hung out for two hours with my new friends, pretty much officially welcoming me to their club.</div>
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I eventually did make it to meet up with the F-team in the city. Tara, Be and Bryan were in an empty mall (all the shops were closed because of Mother’s Day) at the only open shop- a tattoo stall. The three of them were getting their first tattoos. Be’s tattoo took about 6 hours- and while waiting, Brian and I filmed a music video and a movie trailer for a movie we will never make. But an empty mall was a great setting.</div>
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After the three of them cried through their first tattoos (not really,
they all handled them like champs), it was after midnight. So we went to the 24
hour Burger King, which is quite possibly the only Burger King in Thailand,
paid more for crappy burgers and fries than the most expensive and delicious
meal in Sawankhalok, and went to the hotel. Then we left early in the morning, less
than 12 hours after I had gotten there. Haha. But I made some incredibly unique
friends on the way, so it was well worth it =)</div>
Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-89187145510372872792012-08-04T20:16:00.000-07:002012-08-05T00:30:10.754-07:00A week for games and dancing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(July 2012)</div>
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It is an honest wonder how students in Thailand manage to
learn anything ever. Between the teachers seminars, the holidays, the
preparation for the holidays, competitions, and anything else that seems like a
good idea to interrupt education, I feel like I hardly teach. And this is the
serious semester! Two months into the semester, and I think I have not taught a
full week of classes. But I’ve had a ton of fun in the meantime, of course.</div>
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As well as a lot of unnecessary work. The wonderful Ministry
of Education selected this semester to be hell, and has required multiple
teachers seminars. After teaching my third teachers’ seminar last week, I
really think the teachers of Sukhothai must be sick of this farang pretending
to know what she’s talking about. But I have met every single English teacher
in all of Sukhothai (and told them how to teach English, from my loads of
experience…), so that must count for something. The last seminar I taught was
in Thung Salium, the neighboring district, and was done barefoot. That was
definitely the highlight of that seminar; not the lunch time karaoke, nor the
head of the Northern Sukhothai educational office interrupting me mid-session
to take 15 minutes to remind everyone of his importance, nor the 43 page manual
I had to create from scratch to give the teachers. And believe it or not, the
director of the school changing his mind about what he wanted me to teach the
morning of the seminar after I gave him the 43 page manual on my sessions,
asking me to instead teach “daily conversation skills” for two days, no that
was not the highlight either. The highlight was definitely taking off my shoes
and teaching 50 teachers in my bare feet. Yes, still love Thailand <3 </div>
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And this was all following the best week I’ve had at
SawanAnan, because it was our sports week. Remember Field Day from middle
school? It’s like that..but Thai style. That means, it’s not just a one day
thing. It’s a week long, and includes an opening parade through town and a day
of closing ceremonies with dancing and cheerleading. The sports were definitely
not the focus of sports week. Sports week is actually just a misnomer for lots
of fun and craziness.</div>
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So Monday morning we headed to the middle of Sawankahlok to
observe the parade. The students chose the color they wanted their class to be,
out of red, blue, green, violet, and “zad”, which translates as bright. Or
orange. Each color had a magnificent display during the parade, which, I know
I’ve said this before, but I don’t know how they had the time to prepare for. I
guess it was during all those classes my students cancelled the preceding
weeks. As I was watching this massive parade, there were definitely students in
the marching bands that I didn’t recognize, plus our marching isn’t THAT good.
And the kids playing were really small! I asked P’Oom where these kids were
from. She told me they were from SawanAnan 2. (Have I mentioned Sawan Anan 2?
It’s another school in Sawankhalok- they took our name because they want people
to think they are as good as us. You have to test to get into Sawananan, and
pay extra, but SawanAnan 2 is just a normal school. It’s a really funny thing,
which probably isn’t funny for them, but we joke about it all the time. Ahjan Anick
likes to punish bad students that come late for the morning announcements by
making them stand in the back, and yelling “stay away from these guys! They’re
from Sawananan 2!) But apparently Sawananan 2 has better marching bands than
us, because we stole them for our sports week. I’m starting to think the reason
Sawankhalok exists is because of Sawananan. The whole town has to come to a
halt for the opening of our sports week.</div>
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The parade marched from the center of town all the way to
Sawananan, about a mile long distance, the girls in their high heels and
massive wigs, the boys in their heavy suits. (And these students come to my
class whining about being hungry or being hot? Look at what they put themselves
through to put on a good parade. Nobody told them they had to wear high heels,
that was all voluntary) We assembled on the front lawn at school, where two of
my 10<sup>th</sup> graders ran laps around the field wearing full sweat suits
and carrying a torch (again, all voluntary). Once they had assembled, one of the
teachers told me that the teachers are going to play a soccer game for the
opening ceremony. I’m glad he decided to tell me then, 5 minutes before the
game was going to start, to give me barely enough time to run home and grab my
cleats. He gave me a teachers’ jersey (FINALLY! I’ve been playing with them
after school since last semester, but they never let me play in their games
because I’m a girl) and I realized why they were letting me play this time. The
opening match was against the lady boys: Teachers vs. the Gatoeys. I don’t know
whose idea it was, the teachers’ or the gatoeys’, but it was absolutely genius.
We were all decked out in our fancy jerseys, as the gatoeys took the field,
decked out in their dresses and wigs, some even still wearing high heels. </div>
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Though it’s a bit
embarrassing to admit, given that they were playing against a team of fairly
well-practiced teachers, for a team of gay men wanting to be women, the lady
boys did okay. The teachers still won, 4-1, but the lady boys had a good tactic:
as a heard run after anyone with the ball and tackle (hug) him until he falls
to the ground and steal the ball. What a fantastic way to open a week long
sports competition.</div>
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And the gatoeys ran the show all week. This must be the week
they look forward to their entire high school career. The students don’t have
to wear their uniforms (though they’re supposed to wear their gym uniforms,
they can get away with street clothes) so the gatoeys have been running around
all week in skirts, belly shirts and wigs. “Rocky”, the leaders of the gatoeys,
probably danced straight from Monday morning until Friday afternoon in his
belly shirt and short skirt. And the funny thing is, no girl would be allowed
to wear that at school EVER, even on sports week. But if you’re a ladyboy, it’s
okay. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85MrANpHbWGtdmVIy2N9uDuce73YlE98qCvF64mbPBrdG9Sq_Oc0jT8467SW5vdRem2gHrm-HCBqf27uIVrdkorhyluZC87RX_9iGahSkzbXWTG0OUoeJlxSnhpupg5GIFGHyAyW3nUA/s1600/IMG_2155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85MrANpHbWGtdmVIy2N9uDuce73YlE98qCvF64mbPBrdG9Sq_Oc0jT8467SW5vdRem2gHrm-HCBqf27uIVrdkorhyluZC87RX_9iGahSkzbXWTG0OUoeJlxSnhpupg5GIFGHyAyW3nUA/s320/IMG_2155.JPG" width="320" /></a>The rest of the week was a continual blast. We spent the
days watching the Thai variety of sports: chak-rai-ya (tug-o-war), sepak
takraw, football, footsaul, volleyball, table tennis, badminton, basketball and
wing priao (which is a relay race but translates to sour run), all played with
a level of competitiveness I didn’t think possible for a school wide sports
competition. By the way- lady boys are killer at volleyball. All sports were
separated by boys and girls, then by age group, and any boys’ team that had a
ladyboy on it always won volleyball. Though the real reason to enjoy sports
week is not to watch any sports, but to watch the dancing and cheers. Most
students don’t like to play sports (because it makes their skin “black”), so
they stand on the sidelines with their winter coats covering their arms from
the blackening sun, and dance. All day. Every team had a set of bongos and
megaphone, and there was nonstop dancing, cheering, and partying on the
sideline of every game. Didn’t matter who was winning, didn’t matter when
someone scored a goal, there were flags being waved and drums being drummed at
every moment. Then when the game was over (doesn’t matter who won), the field
or court got flooded with the cheerleaders from both sides, making a dance
circle and yelling the appropriate cheers. Every game.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpw10I2UqJEWR60rnX1oKi4o0xvEZtKVW9XyB4JRvzcfuPJawQqgERfza6KG9Fnii4eg53w1NS_F-J1YRje8AsQck6L2zXgKxoXXAMgTXw6zE7zLtZIiD5LxT18fxMaoxJfL2Cebn8Qag/s1600/IMG_2161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpw10I2UqJEWR60rnX1oKi4o0xvEZtKVW9XyB4JRvzcfuPJawQqgERfza6KG9Fnii4eg53w1NS_F-J1YRje8AsQck6L2zXgKxoXXAMgTXw6zE7zLtZIiD5LxT18fxMaoxJfL2Cebn8Qag/s400/IMG_2161.JPG" width="400" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyi-7pl-X2aZLHHbd5lJDZ5AZ37gQeJowhNxXrb8iilSOfA-HpyXKLW7b8afrx1gb8iDun73nKlf1iue_NiDPJe1N8VjtLiaFNRkwjrijG-WNHyqnZORD2aER2SS-ZFTmCQyjfRx6j5_s/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyi-7pl-X2aZLHHbd5lJDZ5AZ37gQeJowhNxXrb8iilSOfA-HpyXKLW7b8afrx1gb8iDun73nKlf1iue_NiDPJe1N8VjtLiaFNRkwjrijG-WNHyqnZORD2aER2SS-ZFTmCQyjfRx6j5_s/s400/IMG_2151.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Halfway through the week, some tension started growing
between the teams. The two smartest 12<sup>th</sup> grade classes (that
basically were the bosses of sports week) were on different teams, and picked
their allies and started a school wide battle. Team “zad” took team violet
under its wing, and team red took team blue. Then team green was just
uninterested enough to not really be pulled into battle, but eventually sided
with red. This all escalated in a basketball match between red and purple,
where the whole orange team was cheering at their full capacity for purple. Red
got disqualified for poor sportsmanship and there was a huge roar of cheers
from orange as they filled the court with their cheerleading, drums and
dancing. This whole debacle was the entire content of the F-team’s 4<sup>th</sup>
of July dinner conversation, which was a holiday that passed completely
unnoticed in the wake of sports week, except for an excessive amount of food from
the night market: fried chicken (the most American part!), steamed vegetables
with nahm prick, an omelet stuffed with cha-om veggies, scallion dumpling
things, aaaand Chang beer. Not quite the same as an American celebration, but
it was as close as we could get for the amount of energy we had that week.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6jwuSjeXo_Gf4BPeFASgQjy8gRFG8IuJx0iYl92crZ1cTZBWCVmy2_JVYqEfS2gbI3J-BPw8y91t-K4SYMYwfc_7ywxV3ruJu8iwC2f0hCle6tC915DZyD6G8LROvp9mR5SOnXf7dY0/s1600/IMG_2182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6jwuSjeXo_Gf4BPeFASgQjy8gRFG8IuJx0iYl92crZ1cTZBWCVmy2_JVYqEfS2gbI3J-BPw8y91t-K4SYMYwfc_7ywxV3ruJu8iwC2f0hCle6tC915DZyD6G8LROvp9mR5SOnXf7dY0/s200/IMG_2182.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdLcdYAchKVvIIfsjMyOjQtf8OALbAYrcISuVvpmbtSMgLo-juzgfXTPuTQKm-843vG6PVq3KaM8P-bi5IjdARWVY6X1oSbULgxOEHVfP3xYx_CZ_6let1dq2XwHZIa8n8r1il74OtcY/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdLcdYAchKVvIIfsjMyOjQtf8OALbAYrcISuVvpmbtSMgLo-juzgfXTPuTQKm-843vG6PVq3KaM8P-bi5IjdARWVY6X1oSbULgxOEHVfP3xYx_CZ_6let1dq2XwHZIa8n8r1il74OtcY/s320/IMG_2179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The last day of sports day ended in a 3 hour performance put
on by the students. This was what they had been practicing for about a month.
Every day after school, every free period, during classes they should have been
going to, and every weekend, all the teams were practicing their performances
with their hired gatoeys. So finally the performance day arrived where each
time had 25 minutes to put on their show. Each show had their own variety of
cheers, some form of ballet, and excessive hip thrusting that made everyone
burst out laughing but also feel a little awkward. The blue team was by far the
best, with fireworks, releasing balloons into the sky (which I don’t approve of
but looks really cool), some moments for the King, all followed by a lot of
overly energetic dancing and ended with buckets of water to pour on the dancing
gatoey boys.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-QtRstWS28pNPH2Y66mKZYMbe8tDOxWRMkleEcyPYMRUGJOyDFtQzWekOWiGVR8iLPsb8unHwArdvbUNlTJ_m38bRTsgi2inD21gVGJp31ishWI3jqhGge5h3c4WUYlmffyA4U6Mk80/s1600/IMG_2242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-QtRstWS28pNPH2Y66mKZYMbe8tDOxWRMkleEcyPYMRUGJOyDFtQzWekOWiGVR8iLPsb8unHwArdvbUNlTJ_m38bRTsgi2inD21gVGJp31ishWI3jqhGge5h3c4WUYlmffyA4U6Mk80/s400/IMG_2242.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFOJRyEXy9buG64ZVJBSwuBa3s8sMRh3PzX7xUwHiGizU3HKwJuEzV-ARQwuFVVXZ1xnJ9EzJoqMwd2wKxjL5GWn1LbSv_RY3xzbq6aJzeA-DUPiO90vSVfR-Cudsz_0ovWXL1Oz2tH_M/s1600/IMG_2376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFOJRyEXy9buG64ZVJBSwuBa3s8sMRh3PzX7xUwHiGizU3HKwJuEzV-ARQwuFVVXZ1xnJ9EzJoqMwd2wKxjL5GWn1LbSv_RY3xzbq6aJzeA-DUPiO90vSVfR-Cudsz_0ovWXL1Oz2tH_M/s400/IMG_2376.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nvX8ofQmmx3tAb5lbSE_Gs2ZlPWuIFz2aeZUqVjFHoZNLr4JnCj2Ap7BX0ND-1gVFvusg7cn2EXCRhCS601v1qEV6k3r4L64mwDGKa-XmiHT9xaB08kGbIR3c3-znmKU_sRKKfvKVFg/s1600/IMG_2288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nvX8ofQmmx3tAb5lbSE_Gs2ZlPWuIFz2aeZUqVjFHoZNLr4JnCj2Ap7BX0ND-1gVFvusg7cn2EXCRhCS601v1qEV6k3r4L64mwDGKa-XmiHT9xaB08kGbIR3c3-znmKU_sRKKfvKVFg/s400/IMG_2288.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW7o63B6Upn1VwZrYsI7ChUtvjYVsGKxGeoBEL0XDNcA6FkOMqaf58__PX_RTKVeLzXAsajtN4CjseK2V6x0ljWWbclsw9Pad45jPsTyLtfl792yTKy5YQhS3VvbEg9mmmDb1EnKJvb0/s1600/IMG_2317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW7o63B6Upn1VwZrYsI7ChUtvjYVsGKxGeoBEL0XDNcA6FkOMqaf58__PX_RTKVeLzXAsajtN4CjseK2V6x0ljWWbclsw9Pad45jPsTyLtfl792yTKy5YQhS3VvbEg9mmmDb1EnKJvb0/s400/IMG_2317.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTPymUSg6QcrKUJkeXh7TlXvsOsE-CrmpD-KjCPLCUlEk-U7JCg13aPZ_7B5qxvNnJMbrAGckCuppWDw8ID5xZdhJ6owYRtVFeA06u9Od8SHUkoyY3M05qJcZZNKtIJfp6IQSP9OTwmA/s1600/IMG_2445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTPymUSg6QcrKUJkeXh7TlXvsOsE-CrmpD-KjCPLCUlEk-U7JCg13aPZ_7B5qxvNnJMbrAGckCuppWDw8ID5xZdhJ6owYRtVFeA06u9Od8SHUkoyY3M05qJcZZNKtIJfp6IQSP9OTwmA/s400/IMG_2445.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the gatoeys on Green lost his wig in the middle of their dance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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Among this week of craziness, the Chinese opera also came to
town. Yep, that’s right. The Chinese opera. What is the Chinese opera? I have
no freakin clue, but it brought an 11 day festival market to Sawankhalok, which
of course I love, and involved a Chinese dragon dance through town randomly on
the Monday after the market had started (why not the opening night of the
market, the opening night of the opera, or Saturday….why Monday? Who knows).
Though I never made it to watch the Chinese opera, I got to see my second
dragon dance (the first was on the King’s birthday last December), which
involves crazy 10 year old gymnasts run around holding the dragon, making the
dragon do flips and chase its tail. And like any good dragon show, it ends with
them placing a precarious pole in the middle of the street for the dancers to
climb, then pass the dragon up the pole so they can shoot fireworks from his
mouth to shower onto the innocent observers. SO exciting.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbQwEyioUBQVAQU-nMgz62R5ljGEOWndJJ_ubkrzk-X62JI8zwf68ps9YiOzWjBuSjg4C4VvGFyDW53OT3RjNgomZRQS4NwRc5vr9azjpa_dc1HX1-8QMitU5OCjTSZG5Lk8Wxg-ZeAU/s1600/IMG_2504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbQwEyioUBQVAQU-nMgz62R5ljGEOWndJJ_ubkrzk-X62JI8zwf68ps9YiOzWjBuSjg4C4VvGFyDW53OT3RjNgomZRQS4NwRc5vr9azjpa_dc1HX1-8QMitU5OCjTSZG5Lk8Wxg-ZeAU/s320/IMG_2504.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBr_hup2f1FTeC72DgJxEMkgNqTuoNmRbvjlXQ9WFM2Cxiw4Em243y3SVEbHhFJ3vOPlkwBGJChOaAVIhM2YlW9HDLTLFkfLAgsXcFg4mZBSng26l_39KBuprBllMZu8kQLk45gTeRxmI/s1600/IMG_2508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBr_hup2f1FTeC72DgJxEMkgNqTuoNmRbvjlXQ9WFM2Cxiw4Em243y3SVEbHhFJ3vOPlkwBGJChOaAVIhM2YlW9HDLTLFkfLAgsXcFg4mZBSng26l_39KBuprBllMZu8kQLk45gTeRxmI/s200/IMG_2508.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8C4T3nP0wDkVKGlypkW14WemfVl2g1i522vltQqYOzB9-Wrdlkq4_yjN96hlxaC-xQ4a81biO-bkoFqcamZMuIXJzIO5CwshGpHwRk0O_Hv94FLQQSF1DuCyoRpghE4I8n7FLx-IVev8/s1600/IMG_2505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8C4T3nP0wDkVKGlypkW14WemfVl2g1i522vltQqYOzB9-Wrdlkq4_yjN96hlxaC-xQ4a81biO-bkoFqcamZMuIXJzIO5CwshGpHwRk0O_Hv94FLQQSF1DuCyoRpghE4I8n7FLx-IVev8/s200/IMG_2505.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtW0gpW7Z-_bMV1TvKtloab9VcX0IUAIqQng3opKkJn-tu7ONZVSlMa9IogcP32r7ZdwBHP0ZRCyFW0tTDHeK_dlW3huyngdYtqLchSU7dmpjJB218IKWg6Y3NpfaJLKrs-o42_FAqgG8/s1600/IMG_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtW0gpW7Z-_bMV1TvKtloab9VcX0IUAIqQng3opKkJn-tu7ONZVSlMa9IogcP32r7ZdwBHP0ZRCyFW0tTDHeK_dlW3huyngdYtqLchSU7dmpjJB218IKWg6Y3NpfaJLKrs-o42_FAqgG8/s200/IMG_1949.JPG" width="200" /></a>In other news in Sawankhalok, BaNee opened up a new rice
porridge shop in front of her house. She closed the one at Soi8, the night
market, which is now very lonely without her presence. The night before her
opening night, I went to her house to help her get things ready. I sat with her
staff for hours and stuck “BaNee Jok” stickers on amulets to give out to every
customer on the first day, and made little packages of snacks to give to kids.
We had a big feast of fresh shrimp yum, soup, omelet, and a Thai salad with
lots of liver.<br />
After finishing up, I was instructed by BaNee to come straight
to her house after school the next day, wear the “BaNee Jok” tee-shirt she gave
me, and help her sell jok. So I biked over as soon as I had finished up at
school, around 5, and there was already a line waiting for their jok to take
home, and the tables almost filled. I arrived ready to work, but didn’t really
have anything to do…if roles had been discussed prior, I definitely missed
them. So I sat with BaNee’s sister who came up from Bangkok for the big opening
night, and pretended to do things that looked important. This included: giving
out the amulets to every customer (a very important job), refilling eggs and
cilantro, and most importantly, opening the plastic bags for P’Kwan to pour the
jok into. BaNee definitely would not have been able to function without me. She
sold out at 8PM, with a line still waiting, and never a moment for any of the
staff to sit down. Except me, who was sitting the whole time.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV452fBrifcvwjm0iec1FSVaiZ9OYwjvka6MLjhTYFv9KoWR-kntdtECRrKrL8DrrTR1HBSll6clVZJQNFXI2HWvpXojFtIvJHzxyAJoylcuzIey4MlEXIoso1l-5Xi9He29ie3JxWsFU/s1600/IMG_1960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV452fBrifcvwjm0iec1FSVaiZ9OYwjvka6MLjhTYFv9KoWR-kntdtECRrKrL8DrrTR1HBSll6clVZJQNFXI2HWvpXojFtIvJHzxyAJoylcuzIey4MlEXIoso1l-5Xi9He29ie3JxWsFU/s400/IMG_1960.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt6ZpSazEfL7B7_8k-nBWeLPgfJ3rCZkuqiC7cOgQ_6fxH1l4O87sMD6DGbkNupF1sATBStCLZLR5CL_OVqJ9-holcqdw-T1X4erd6BziGxS1BsDGh3OgzyxC-vtGqic30l9EUY4o_OQ/s1600/IMG_1967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt6ZpSazEfL7B7_8k-nBWeLPgfJ3rCZkuqiC7cOgQ_6fxH1l4O87sMD6DGbkNupF1sATBStCLZLR5CL_OVqJ9-holcqdw-T1X4erd6BziGxS1BsDGh3OgzyxC-vtGqic30l9EUY4o_OQ/s320/IMG_1967.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div>
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Though I’m essentially useless, I go to BaNee’s any night
that I am free to “help”. I think eventually I will become an integral part of
her staff. Maybe not. But it is a great way to check up on my students. Every night
I am there, I see at least one of my students. On opening night, one of my M3
students showed up in her pajamas, my homework assignment in hand, and said “teacher.
Too hard”. The second night, my bad boys from M4 came with their older
girlfriends. My boys were too shy to speak to me, but the girls were excited to
talk to me. Well, at least they’re dating good girls. After selling out at 8:30
on the second night, I sat down to have dinner with BaNee. I had already eaten
earlier in the evening, so I just picked on some fish and had a bit of tom yum
soup. After BaNee had finished her dinner, she decided she wanted to go to a
restaurant to “gin len len”, which translates to “play eat” and means to eat
like a snack, or pick on food, whereas “gin jing jing” is “real eat” and means
to eat a meal. So after BaNee, her sister, her sister’s boyfriend and I
finished “gin jing jing”, we went to one of Sawankhalok’s only air-conditioned
restaurants to “gin len len”, where BaNee ordered five plates for us of fried
fish, soup, noodles and crab cakes. Way too much food for a meal, let alone a “len
len” meal. I was so full I could barely bike home. I thought I would never eat
again. But then I made the mistake of calling BaNee to get lunch together the
next day. We drove to Sri Samrong to get som tam, but the shop wasn’t open yet.
So she decided we should “gin len len” until it opens, so we went a little
outside of the town to have noodles on the river. Then, we went back to the
shop to get our som tam, our “jing jing” meal. But the shop still wasn’t open.
So we drove all around Sri Samrong, along the river, BaNee racking her brain of
where we can get som tam, declaring to her passengers, “Som tan len dtua”- som
tam is playing hard to get, and giggling to herself. We found a gaiyang stand
on the side of the road, so we settled with large portions of grilled chicken and sticky rice, the accompaniments
to som tam, without the actual som tam. That was fine with me because I was
already stuffed. I only picked at the gaiyang when we got back to BaNee’s
house, and I told BaNee, next time she wants to “gin len len”, count me out! She’s
already teasing me that if I keep eating with her, my mother won’t recognize me
when I come home because I’ll be fat. So I’ve had to scale down on my lunches
with BaNee.</div>
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After all these exciting things happening in a few weeks:
sports week, teaching more seminars, the Chinese opera, and BaNee’s opening
night, the whirlwind collapsed into midterms. How did that happen!? I feel like
I haven’t taught my kids anything yet, how can they possibly be tested on
anything? For a slightly more serious semester than last semester, it is still
a wonder to me how these students, even at a good school like SawanAnan have
managed to learn anything. Part of the craziness that makes Thailand.</div>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-6173362745413403682012-07-22T10:17:00.000-07:002012-08-05T02:07:23.923-07:00555+I realized this morning that this past year, I have cried more from laughing than from being sad. It definitely seems that way at least. So I put together a small collection of reasons why students in Thailand are the best (from a mix of experiences from the F team, the other Fulbrights, and myself =D ) and continue to make me laugh every day.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpsfaX50ldNj_UtrP18tFbpoUHm-xgtRjZtO2YWP-G9oh7aYk5byMYYKz9t_j7q-1MquSAuPSIQT6ZjzEjzIMMziCczWQlVUW_6iIQJJot5tT9BrNQQl6s3QKorXS5ohmn10o7ZKmoaqA/s1600/538183_10100520834480566_185109840_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpsfaX50ldNj_UtrP18tFbpoUHm-xgtRjZtO2YWP-G9oh7aYk5byMYYKz9t_j7q-1MquSAuPSIQT6ZjzEjzIMMziCczWQlVUW_6iIQJJot5tT9BrNQQl6s3QKorXS5ohmn10o7ZKmoaqA/s320/538183_10100520834480566_185109840_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oil, me and Grace, eating at Meng Mukata on Oil's birthday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I went to Sukhothai one weekend to judge students that were interviewing to study abroad in America. Most of the students were very polite, smart, and also scared shitless. Then I interviewed "Function" (yes his nickname is really Function), an M4 student from the best school in Sukhothai. I kind of loved him because he was always smiling really big, even though he was obviously nervous because he was shaking. This is how it went:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me: Function, tell me some good things about yourself.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Function: Oh no. Don't have.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">(His farang teachers in the room giggle and nod in agreement)</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me: Really, nothing?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Function: yes, don't have</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me: Okay, so what are some bad things about yourself?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Function: Oh many many things. I am lazy, I can't play sport, I can't sing, I can't Thai dance...(and he goes on)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">..several questions later</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me: So Function, what are you going to do to make friends in your new school?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Function: I will find a diligent people. And I will be friend with he.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me: Really?! Why is that?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Function: So I can copy of him.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Maya, a Fulbright that teaches in Chiang Mai sent me this story:</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">So I had my students write a dialogue for homework. One of my favorite students (the student body president) gave me this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: Hello Jack, what did you do yesterday?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: I went to the moon to draw a picture of our world.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: Realy? How did you go to the moon?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: I went to the moon with a bamboo helicopter.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: Wow! Why did you not invite me too?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: Oh! I forgot! So, I went to the moon alone. It was very quiet. What did you do yesterday?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: I went to the sun with my girlfriend because I wanted to make her so hot!</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: Wow, that's a good idea, and is she so hot yet?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: Yes, she is so hot. I think you should go to the sun with your girlfriend too.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: Umm, I'm so sorry. My girlfriend, she is polite.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jood: Ummmm my father is calling me back home, see you later, bye!</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;">Jack: Bye</span>
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px;">This story was from another Fulbright in Isaan, Gracie, who went to</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13px;"> interview new Thai English teachers at her school:</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Here are some of my favorite moments aka instances where I almost died laughing but was a good ETA and held it in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Q: I see you play ukulele in your free time. Show me.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Then the woman was made to "play" air ukulele and sing. The same thing happened in another interview with lam thai. Just making sure the candidates aren't lying about their interests, I guess?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Q: As we are moving towards ASEAN, how will you prepare the students?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A: Superman...?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Q: How about Thai culture? Is it beautiful or should we destroy it with Europe and maybe learning English?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">(That's actually a pretty interesting question it was just worded so funny)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Q: Actually, No more questions, because I am hungry.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
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</div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the first essay assignment I gave my M4 students, talking about their weekend:</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">-My student wrote a great journal entry about his weekend in Chaing Mai, then at the end he <span style="background-color: white;">writes: "I think that in the next week I will be going to outer space. Or abroad"</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">-After my student wrote about having an omelet for breakfast, then doing homework, she writes...</span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">"When I finish I went to the kitchen cause I wanted food, but it was not in the cupboard. Um egg. Yes, I made another omelet again. I ate the omelet until my face is as round as an omelet"</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0q-FznbXq8nuTYFA3rsECO6rjnqqsoUw6U_-pXyV9ewE3IPyLk3wpRqunTB4NcNJxVkXPxQyYqhR7wYx_bYvrrunS4HXImQ6t3ZXBCGGUtGGhkcuGwxn_aX2J5PqTc4LY8CicVj492UY/s1600/IMG_2928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0q-FznbXq8nuTYFA3rsECO6rjnqqsoUw6U_-pXyV9ewE3IPyLk3wpRqunTB4NcNJxVkXPxQyYqhR7wYx_bYvrrunS4HXImQ6t3ZXBCGGUtGGhkcuGwxn_aX2J5PqTc4LY8CicVj492UY/s640/IMG_2928.JPG" width="480" /></a>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">-From my M4/3 student....one of my worst. All semester, Pel had turned in one homework assignment, about how the kid that sits next to him is a bad boy because he has sex. I asked him who wrote it, and the four boys pointed at each other, and Pel said it wasn't him. So I gave him a zero, and he didn't turn anything in since. He finally handed me his notebook on Wednesday with all four journal assignments, including this masterpiece. I'm hesitant to believe he wrote it himself, but I love it anyway.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 13px;">...and infinitely more</span><br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-89733065521164658802012-07-17T20:02:00.003-07:002012-07-17T20:02:51.796-07:00The four dollar experiment<style>
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<br />
I know I fall in love with Thailand quite often, but this
next entry might be the highest contributing factor to me never wanting to
leave. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMiv0QfW_cCxJulFZXE6k7UHlf1fTGjR_ire4dPzSpKPZg8g3yB9z2kwBp2g8SGWmnmny4s8GBNZafHoj60cGOhY3PRSGbFOVgIbDvsxoY005W6tiRNUOn3Z1S1-hbTPJi_NfsEpk66k/s1600/IMG_1999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMiv0QfW_cCxJulFZXE6k7UHlf1fTGjR_ire4dPzSpKPZg8g3yB9z2kwBp2g8SGWmnmny4s8GBNZafHoj60cGOhY3PRSGbFOVgIbDvsxoY005W6tiRNUOn3Z1S1-hbTPJi_NfsEpk66k/s320/IMG_1999.JPG" width="320" /></a>It all started when I had an afternoon off and went for a
long bike ride to clear my mind, and ponder how to hold myself hostage in this
country until my parents and sister come to visit. A friend of mine suggested I
should bike to the airport sometime, because its beautiful and not far from
‘khalok. So on Saturday my students didn’t want to study, so I randomly had the
afternoon off to explore the airport. The ride was awesome- only 14 or so km,
on a quiet but well paved road that peaked out at the Yom River every once in a
while. I guess it sounds kind of weird to go on a trip to the <i>airport</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, but really the airport is like Sawankhalok’s
biggest nature park. There is a zoo (of buffalo), a resort with a swimming
pool, and orchid garden, Sawankhalok’s most expensive restaurant, and an
organic agricultural project! So I went to check out the scared kids whose
parents insisted they ride the fat buffalo so they (and I) could take pictures,
and the restaurant overlooking their organic garden project….when I found bags
of the most delicious fresh looking lettuce I have ever seen (in Thailand)! I
was so excited to see mixed greens like that, so I bought two bags and quickly
biked back to Sawankhalok. ITS SALAD TIME!! (I am definitely my mother’s
daughter in my father’s country)</span></div>
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I headed straight to my favorite market at the temple on the
outskirts of Sawankhalok to gather some ingredients to make this salad
possible. The grocery store in town sells the worst tasting salad dressing (as
in sugar water), so if I wanted a satisfying salad, I would have to make it
from scratch. A full basket of ingredients later, I headed home while the sun
set over the Yom River <3</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Z-6-nymoCwcuVJWvphuZq7BP5NlsiQhuPgDnV_yQmPgBRMExE2QvXEyL6WKjff-IkKlAdWPfufGFTbbcN9EbkBMKyTeEmX8vIxiJlcnwr9_Rl4WdCGdlUc8LqbTPhjbuLQrlIeJTOZc/s1600/IMG_2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Z-6-nymoCwcuVJWvphuZq7BP5NlsiQhuPgDnV_yQmPgBRMExE2QvXEyL6WKjff-IkKlAdWPfufGFTbbcN9EbkBMKyTeEmX8vIxiJlcnwr9_Rl4WdCGdlUc8LqbTPhjbuLQrlIeJTOZc/s320/IMG_2017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The recipe to happiness:</div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal">Organic
lettuce from Sukhothai airport’s organic garden</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">Onion,
lime, garlic, cucumber and mint from Sawankhalok’s local market, grown
harvested and sold by local people (chili peppers optional. Apparently I’m
not <i>that</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Thai yet, because I bought
the chili peppers but didn’t include them in my salad)</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal">Mangoes
from Kirk and Bryan’s front yard</li>
<li class="MsoNormal">Sawankhalok-made
honey, sold at the Saturday day market.</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31Yb1eUq_u9E5vue4Ohb-gPavCW7GuhpLb6GEt0fQMeaF-8IG5-9Ds7N3LCTo25DfwV-OB5CBVGFzg-uMNajTmfw7uc3RG1h8R0eT8L7T7jEhLExVJSbvVzFFS2EcXivlUCaz2b6mIfs/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31Yb1eUq_u9E5vue4Ohb-gPavCW7GuhpLb6GEt0fQMeaF-8IG5-9Ds7N3LCTo25DfwV-OB5CBVGFzg-uMNajTmfw7uc3RG1h8R0eT8L7T7jEhLExVJSbvVzFFS2EcXivlUCaz2b6mIfs/s320/IMG_2033.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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And the rest is simple really…because it’s a salad. I minced
the garlic, onion and ginger (by hand, because my crappy food processor/blender
doesn’t actually food process), cut up the cucumbers, and the mango into little
cubes, put the cucumbers and mango over the bed of lettuce, sprinkled the
garlic onion and ginger over that, followed by bits of mint, squeezed a little
lime, then poured a teaspoon of honey over it and BAM! Tropical Salad Heaven.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEt1s-XxFEk3pCXcYpLGQHhqIvSfC59aHGbDZeDe9wNEXPRk1vNmuKUep7j8F-bTbmo21-bs5qMUgs1ytZwRyVgACd0i6dfbdUvuMuuVXsjO2cYVBEpVxfaWXjhm21gGVL3SfRD66CsE/s1600/IMG_2041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEt1s-XxFEk3pCXcYpLGQHhqIvSfC59aHGbDZeDe9wNEXPRk1vNmuKUep7j8F-bTbmo21-bs5qMUgs1ytZwRyVgACd0i6dfbdUvuMuuVXsjO2cYVBEpVxfaWXjhm21gGVL3SfRD66CsE/s320/IMG_2041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The coolest thing about this maybe-not-so-exciting adventure
is that it all cost me about 110 bhat, less than four dollars, including the
two bags of organic lettuce. And it’s enough for at least three days of salad. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….Now, if only I had a quality glass of red wine, I could
stay in Thailand forever.</div>
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<br /></div>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-45534316345428918232012-07-15T19:54:00.001-07:002012-07-21T00:43:21.458-07:00And the craziness ensues<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;">(J</span><span style="background-color: white;">une 2012)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">It’s amazing the difference having one semester under your
belt makes. I almost feel like a legitimate teacher! I felt it as soon as I
walked into these classes this semester. Even though I am teaching my M3
goofballs that couldn’t sit still in my one hour a week class, for some reason
the transition into M4 turned them into adults (how, I have no idea) and my two
classes with them a week is a dream. An absolute dream. They do EVERYTHING I
ask them to, and do it beautifully. Who knew Thai kids knew how to follow my
instructions? This was news to me. And it is so awesome to walk into a class
and know all their faces. I love love love M4.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3FuXQArNShGE3ZqQNC5uac6hltPHuGz3Zs_1L0hqUED6L7KJdJPoCOlXFBnEJE_lo29bnrFfVXYfgAtVjhFg4xgnWkegVBqJCB3cU_fPbKsfTUpK_4k1vHcVCM6qnxecVJw7SkuVaRNI/s1600/295323_415207728525027_1816658098_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3FuXQArNShGE3ZqQNC5uac6hltPHuGz3Zs_1L0hqUED6L7KJdJPoCOlXFBnEJE_lo29bnrFfVXYfgAtVjhFg4xgnWkegVBqJCB3cU_fPbKsfTUpK_4k1vHcVCM6qnxecVJw7SkuVaRNI/s320/295323_415207728525027_1816658098_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made by Bent, an M4 student. Kru Korin= teacher Korin<br /> and "mali" is my nickname, means jasmine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I’m also teaching the new batch of M3’s, Steven’s old M2
students. A lot of them failed his class, so I have painstakingly been
retesting them for the past month so they can study in M3 (Thailand’s stupid
rule that if you get a zero, you can retest and retest and retest until you
pass, even if you don’t deserve to. Even if the teacher says you can’t pass,
they can go to the office and they’ll pass you just for showing up for the
retest). Though this terrible process of retesting 72 of Steven’s failed
students made the first few weeks of the semester hell and I made two students
cry, it has had its perks. First, I have a heads up for the students that can’t
speak English. But also, they were terrified of Steven, and not scared of me,
so they automatically love me. BAM! All the bad kids are on my side already.
Thank you Steven! Som and Too, two of Steven’s worst kids, are my best friends
now. And the ones that I made cry, are now taking special classes with me on
the weekends. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhScPYEPI-sEWI2UPtBDPwDqIkqWPlK0EPB2DbCFt9eOU7CqlvX_VMtYrTZBq8CPVIw0XCHxeXeNCu8IFTOyk67h2bxJsj3qCqDe5Et4au9yHwhRb3FDVOcVmwbwZ827BK17mJoPh1r70/s1600/Too.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhScPYEPI-sEWI2UPtBDPwDqIkqWPlK0EPB2DbCFt9eOU7CqlvX_VMtYrTZBq8CPVIw0XCHxeXeNCu8IFTOyk67h2bxJsj3qCqDe5Et4au9yHwhRb3FDVOcVmwbwZ827BK17mJoPh1r70/s320/Too.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TOO <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcI_0x2LKMeaWBq8nSn4aB3q7EtTJ8smRK_aZmpQYWal0zmDBIE2hV3tcIuqnvk9yOoilzAleqIlle0eBBhYGaxRsW7FvDM9ehZX4eFfBQ26D2A1_tuQl_8RUVFosHRqUMOtUbUEFZuSA/s1600/Som1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcI_0x2LKMeaWBq8nSn4aB3q7EtTJ8smRK_aZmpQYWal0zmDBIE2hV3tcIuqnvk9yOoilzAleqIlle0eBBhYGaxRsW7FvDM9ehZX4eFfBQ26D2A1_tuQl_8RUVFosHRqUMOtUbUEFZuSA/s320/Som1.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SOM <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This semester is incredibly different from the rest. The
students are <i>serious</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> this semester (so
far…) because it is the start of the new year. There are also way less holidays
now. Only two so far. The first holiday was a Buddhist holiday to celebrate the
birth, enlightenment and death of the Buddha 2500 years ago. The Friday before
the holiday, the monks from my favorite temple came and we spent the morning
giving them non-perishable food (rice, milk that magically doesn't go bad because its in a juice box, and ramen noodles)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiumXeYJXuHnfYrmW9UctX5g1lOTYAIfhBLxdb1KUKSNOkoEL0nIzaDSdznEdUDMIPEBHJ_krgwQdFvnzGyWzt96D7ami09aMzH1rIa02DINtE_BgqkVOY-2X_QA_yf79ry_pQ6kBcPo/s1600/IMG_1653.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiumXeYJXuHnfYrmW9UctX5g1lOTYAIfhBLxdb1KUKSNOkoEL0nIzaDSdznEdUDMIPEBHJ_krgwQdFvnzGyWzt96D7ami09aMzH1rIa02DINtE_BgqkVOY-2X_QA_yf79ry_pQ6kBcPo/s320/IMG_1653.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-style: normal;"> and meditating. This was only supposed to take
up the first period, but of course Sawananan has so many freakin students that
this took ALL morning. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclHsuIt1rIOKTmycacl6U2RYq_M22kFWQALwxDjDvoXMeGXKp7Xms0qx2Dh8Le1NEa4auI2QDtH9OhYc9nXnUNHZmXkl22hV01vPASKrPziae_GlGMslgob52zLizLFn-w4Sbty1DGYw/s1600/IMG_1660.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclHsuIt1rIOKTmycacl6U2RYq_M22kFWQALwxDjDvoXMeGXKp7Xms0qx2Dh8Le1NEa4auI2QDtH9OhYc9nXnUNHZmXkl22hV01vPASKrPziae_GlGMslgob52zLizLFn-w4Sbty1DGYw/s200/IMG_1660.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-style: normal;">Just giving them food took two hours, then meditation
for a half hour or so, then walking around the Buddha statue three times. By
then, I only had one class left to teach that day, but they didn’t come because
they were planting trees in front of school. I don’t know if that was
legitimate or not. Knowing these students (my only M5 class, and the most
difficult class to teach- these kids stopped caring about English a long time
ago), they were watching their friends plant trees so they wouldn’t have to
learn English =P</span></div>
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The actual holiday, Visaka Bucha Day, was on a Monday. On
Sunday, I went with BaNee (the woman who sells rice porridge) and her friends to a temple
in Thung Salium, the neighboring district, to pray and do Buddhist things. This
was actually the strangest non-Thai gathering I’ve ever seen. First, everyone
was dressed in white. That never happens! Thai’s love their colors. And it was
also very organized. Also not Thai. Everyone seemed to know what to do…I suppose if I understood Thai, the unanimous actions would make more
sense. Instead I just followed BaNee around to receive holy water from the
monks, follow the crowd to the table of holy food that had been given as an
offering to Buddha, and picked up the hot silver and gold that hardened into
cool droopy shapes in the grass.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSaxD5pTF61tvZloh9XTYRXW7RyRRJnO7YYOUdyULnvubiZrMMWBHBoflGf7QpuK02a3XD2mCMB3M79UbEdEMk-IQnpVz1XNSK-85kJK_cyuFWHRii-yBh92H1xkqH7WBR8Gqw72RvVc/s1600/IMG_1727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSaxD5pTF61tvZloh9XTYRXW7RyRRJnO7YYOUdyULnvubiZrMMWBHBoflGf7QpuK02a3XD2mCMB3M79UbEdEMk-IQnpVz1XNSK-85kJK_cyuFWHRii-yBh92H1xkqH7WBR8Gqw72RvVc/s200/IMG_1727.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZELd8x4dMkOPDN2ecA4Wm7VLYIRPPhjIAWFy3wAcCOBAwAbbZvQyGy4SP9q7SPv7SfqMOhNoCXoySyY_uoz4ESmrwVf6Q90h0nsrNGwjAqSI8ozTxviPlaaJdbPDaDSj2rJQTvdJPbc/s1600/IMG_1729.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZELd8x4dMkOPDN2ecA4Wm7VLYIRPPhjIAWFy3wAcCOBAwAbbZvQyGy4SP9q7SPv7SfqMOhNoCXoySyY_uoz4ESmrwVf6Q90h0nsrNGwjAqSI8ozTxviPlaaJdbPDaDSj2rJQTvdJPbc/s200/IMG_1729.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbfWCG2uhQhg-_rbPW5dDwLZoWLvmzgMve4z_ystcsR4Yo-sJ_mO26-6sG6OvbSTte1kwHVx3pLNVEaFwiSsQGVX4lBM_ziioD6K5lpndO-iFsfxLhk-DlhWJbynFZyCXjZOVtjuAAtC8/s1600/IMG_1733.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbfWCG2uhQhg-_rbPW5dDwLZoWLvmzgMve4z_ystcsR4Yo-sJ_mO26-6sG6OvbSTte1kwHVx3pLNVEaFwiSsQGVX4lBM_ziioD6K5lpndO-iFsfxLhk-DlhWJbynFZyCXjZOVtjuAAtC8/s200/IMG_1733.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
Very very strange succession of events. But it
was followed by a delicious feast of kanom jin, masaman curry, pad Thai and
coconut ice cream. Sooo much food. After the feast, we paid a visit to Ahjan
Lampun, a very famous monk in the region. He was so adorable and so old. He
wanted me to sit close to him so I could tell him where I was from, which made
me so nervous because women can’t touch monks ever and it gives me constant
anxiety whenever I’m near a monk that he might accidentally bump into me or
something.<br />
Don’t worry- no accidents yet, and I successfully told Ahjan Lampun
what he wanted to know. After our fortunate visit with Ahjan Lampun, we were
minding our own business, collecting little rocks that are unique to the region
that make beautiful jewelry and are, I’m sure, holy, when Ahjan Lampun came
outside to have the monks cut his hair. This apparently was very exciting, so
we stopped collecting little stones to ask to receive some of his hair. We sat
cross legged in a wai for a half hour while they cut his hair, so we could
receive his cut hair. I don’t know what will happen with that hair, but BaNee
said she is making something for me with it. Very exciting. Haha</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EM_LU2igIS_v1siyvfkb_0sPHbp6hKFzjRRzBZKouwLU2a96z65XMMMvupbUvQjLthotY522uCIlHBiYm3SpJLLfTUi4nKUUCMuP6oXaHQUVLsuoAGzCmWiHvHODsCW2Pv1FvNSq-Oo/s1600/IMG_1735.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EM_LU2igIS_v1siyvfkb_0sPHbp6hKFzjRRzBZKouwLU2a96z65XMMMvupbUvQjLthotY522uCIlHBiYm3SpJLLfTUi4nKUUCMuP6oXaHQUVLsuoAGzCmWiHvHODsCW2Pv1FvNSq-Oo/s320/IMG_1735.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HaPmFQlxVDragKOANGPA_k2T_p7jf4V-USbb2Ho2T2jhmDesqN0pTAeNMKQ4EYtp1j_V6r3b2t-aaniW6OtjQeZliuuwcLtueNfy_sUF9Lwsmu_M2J3UX1DtKu3dVdbLdGlD0MEdr_c/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HaPmFQlxVDragKOANGPA_k2T_p7jf4V-USbb2Ho2T2jhmDesqN0pTAeNMKQ4EYtp1j_V6r3b2t-aaniW6OtjQeZliuuwcLtueNfy_sUF9Lwsmu_M2J3UX1DtKu3dVdbLdGlD0MEdr_c/s200/photo.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite monk from Wat Sawankaram<br />came to bless the students on Wai Kru</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So that was Visaka Bucha day…like many Thai holidays, a blur
of confusion and excitement with very little certainty about the meaning. The
other holiday this month has been a lot more clear- “Wai Kru” day- is another
teacher holiday. I got the meaning of this holiday- respect your teachers,
darn it! America- and maybe every country in the world, you guys should
probably get in on this. Wai Kru is the coolest, most joyous holiday I’ve ever
heard of. On Wai Kru, every student brings a bouquet of flowers to give to the
teachers. They hold an assembly in the morning, with prolonged prayers, a visit
from the monks, and some words of thanks from the students to the teachers.
Then, awesomeness ensues. All of the students are in rows in the entire gymnasium, separated with the boys on the left and girls on the right.
Line by line, they scooch forward to sit in front of the line of teachers that
are sitting in chairs, they bow their heads to the floor while the teachers pat
their backs or heads and give them blessings, then they hand the teacher their
bouquet of flowers, bow down again, and exit, allowing the next line of
students forward. And again, since Sawananan has so many freaking students,
this took hooourrssss. For the girls I knew (I was sitting on the girls' side), I smiled wide and told them I love them, or work hard,
or good luck in English. For the ones I didn’t know, I didn’t really know what
I was supposed to say, so I took pictures of them bowing down instead, haha.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcaF1BkyJ8ear_O6nEO4VkKfj-hOIpTxqVL9Ibdw-7uDMGpadThhw3iFB291XkY7UVt818pFXkuHkerhesJu2QbZ_1MttJ7m831CTqOiWhJdV9XNwLdDcFJBn9a4KE71diVG2NXe6W50/s1600/550621_601462093300_943915955_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcaF1BkyJ8ear_O6nEO4VkKfj-hOIpTxqVL9Ibdw-7uDMGpadThhw3iFB291XkY7UVt818pFXkuHkerhesJu2QbZ_1MttJ7m831CTqOiWhJdV9XNwLdDcFJBn9a4KE71diVG2NXe6W50/s320/550621_601462093300_943915955_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
And like any good holiday, no class for the rest of the day, as well as the day
before: The day before because they had to prepare for Wai Kru day, and the
rest of Wai Kru day because the students had meetings to prepare for the next
holiday…sports week. That will be next blog post ;)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_TLZX3sfIURh8CP_PkKDo3e7YMJWjwqj44iw8vE8OALwKnsxW_X3pF8NACniW8WgoI_mzcVseDIA6zb6JkwgyCxnD-Bd5Px-6TCTWuJWqruH7gI3DBRLqt-RtP-DkaiMe2anDZyIzdY/s1600/IMG_1444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_TLZX3sfIURh8CP_PkKDo3e7YMJWjwqj44iw8vE8OALwKnsxW_X3pF8NACniW8WgoI_mzcVseDIA6zb6JkwgyCxnD-Bd5Px-6TCTWuJWqruH7gI3DBRLqt-RtP-DkaiMe2anDZyIzdY/s200/IMG_1444.JPG" width="200" /></a>In between the holidays, I have been doing a lot of
exploring of Sukhothai with the newly formed “F Team”. F Team totally rocks.
The first weekend of school, we headed to Sri Satchanalai National Park. Kirk
bought a motorbike, so now I can be accommodated on all the adventures since I
can ride on the back of his motorbike. Tara also came back to visit cause she
missed Thailand so much, so the four of us: Tara, Be, Kirk and I, went to the
nearby rainforest. Yep. I live 30 km away from a rainforest. Did you know that?
I didn’t until we went to the National Park. We rented a cute little cabin for
two nights and had a hell of an adventure. The park isn’t very big, but has
several trails to different waterfalls. We got there on Friday night and rented an adorable little cabin, which only had two twin beds, but has enough floor space for a full party. We had packed our dinner for the night: pork and sticky rice, dried fruit, and peanuts. On Saturday morning we woke up
early, had a feast of a breakfast at the only restaurant for miles, and went on
our day long adventure. The area around the cabin is very sculpted, with cut
grass and a babbling brook. As soon as you cross the bridge, you enter the
rainforest. The trail to the best waterfall was only 6 kilometers, but mostly
uphill. And we hiked it in flip flops! Kirk loves insects and animals more than
I do, which made the hike a lot longer because he kept stopping, but was
awesome because he knows a lot about them (he used to work in a pet shop). So
when he pointed out this really cool worm, I of course got really excited. It
moved like an incredibly fast and efficient inch worm. It inched so fast! I was
totally impressed. Well, only a few minutes later we realized why it was so
fast and efficient. It wasn’t a worm…it was a leech. And they were all over the
place!!! Those little suckers were really good at being leeches too, there were
leeches on our feet for the rest of the hike. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpLmNP10it2yzt44BCzTVLqv6U4ljX2TczsiVrZ70YxpqtAMCKhpvmc5Z0paj5V0zQVfA-TJluttYy9PwBybj5EruIe_-Xu33Mb1FXg4_KG8Nd-Buxir-r8COJgFcPdd-Zdw7gmK-B4k/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpLmNP10it2yzt44BCzTVLqv6U4ljX2TczsiVrZ70YxpqtAMCKhpvmc5Z0paj5V0zQVfA-TJluttYy9PwBybj5EruIe_-Xu33Mb1FXg4_KG8Nd-Buxir-r8COJgFcPdd-Zdw7gmK-B4k/s200/IMG_1447.JPG" width="200" /></a>But it was totally worth it!!! Killer centipede, river
wading, constant leech attacks and three hours later, we FINALLY reached the
top of the trail!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQuN30t_NHwQmIT13giMBvafucJIC88vlwRd_0VSyyetwmcGewcPQ45fbTVSOyykfREQdB5XFhOat9p1jB4S_HCdy8ahQHxRX8IFs5lDSFUUKjgVAUdPVBkKKe2qFw3Rr7zdxByoOm-8/s1600/IMG_1483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQuN30t_NHwQmIT13giMBvafucJIC88vlwRd_0VSyyetwmcGewcPQ45fbTVSOyykfREQdB5XFhOat9p1jB4S_HCdy8ahQHxRX8IFs5lDSFUUKjgVAUdPVBkKKe2qFw3Rr7zdxByoOm-8/s320/IMG_1483.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The trail led us to a beautiful view of the cascading
waterfall, but we didn’t want the view. We wanted to SWIM! So we climbed down
to the bottom of the waterfall and tiptoed into the freezing water. We had to
move through the water at a snail’s pace because the bottom of the pool was
rocky and hazardous, but wonderfully refreshing. </div>
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After our swim, we laid out a mat and ate our lunch: fried
rice and rambutan. As we were sunbathing before our hike back, we saw a huge
family, 10-15 people, come running down the path to the pool. They flooded the
waterfall, jumping all over the rocks, climbing to stand underneath the
waterfall, then climbing higher to jump into the shallow water. I held my
breath the whole time, expecting one of them to get seriously hurt. Here we
were in our bathing suits, walking cautiously into the water, then this Thai
family comes in their jeans and t-shirts, and dive right in, completely
unphased by the sharp rocks. Silly farang. At least we hiked in flip flops.</div>
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Rain drops started to fall, so we quickly packed up and
started to head back. And I’ll tell you, there is absolutely nothing cooler
than hiking through a rainforest in the rain. It started to pour at one point,
as we were wading through a river underneath the tree canopies. It made our
trek back very quick! Though the Thai family quickly outpaced us, running past
us, some ditching the hassle of wearing shoes, and leaving their flip flops
behind. As we were reaching the end of the trail, the rain started to let
up…and then I saw a sign for a cave!! Since we made it back in record timing, I
begged to hike to the cave. The sign said only 2km, and we had enough time
before it would get to dark. The hike was a lot easier that the hike up the
mountain..because it was totally flat. Which was weird- we were walking through
completely flat land- how was there going to be a cave if there were no
mountains? We reached a sign that said 500 m to the cave, and then the path went
straight up. Out of nowhere, there was a mountain to climb (I had to give up
on the flip flops and change to sneakers because it was so muddy that my flip
flops were just sliding right off). We climbed that thing for a long time. There
was no way it was 500 m, and I thought we must have passed it except for the
signs pointing to go straight for the cave. After mud climbing at an almost vertical angle, we could finally see the
cave. Ive been to a bunch of caves in Thailand, and the one in Malaysia before,
so I was expecting a cave you could walk into. This cave was nothing like that.
When you get up to the entrance of the cave, it is a sheer drop down into a
cavern. It was HUGE! I think you potentially could climb down into the cave,
but I was way too scared to. Who knows what lives in there?! Not to say that
the past caves I’ve been to have not been real, but that was the realist cave
I’ve ever seen.</div>
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We climbed back down the mud mountain and headed back to our
cute little cabin as it was getting dark, taking a pit stop in the river to get
just clean enough to get dinner. We headed to the only restaurant... our only hope for dinner that night. She had
already closed her noodle stand, and hated us for inquiring, but eventually
hooked us up with the most delicious bowl of pork noodle soup. Though she
pretended to hate us, I think she secretly must have loved us because we gave her
so much business. You would think being the only shop in town, she would have
good business- but everything on her shelf was dusty. Even the whisky! That
doesn’t happen in Thailand- everyone drinks whisky. Every night. </div>
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I can’t believe that it had taken me this long to get to the
Sri Satchanalai National Park, but even more crazy that I hadn’t been to the
Sri Satchanalai Historial Park, Sukthothia National Park’s little sister. So
the next weekend, I was glad to make Kirk go on an advenyrue to the Historical
Park, so I could accompany him there. I had been there once with Kaiau and her
mother, but I hardly count that as a trip to the historical park, because it was
“too hot” that day to go out and explore the park, so we did sightseeing from
the car. Love Kaiau, and miss her terribly. But it was nice to go to the park
with a farang. So the two of us packed a picnic, and headed to the park, a mere
13 km away from our home in Sawnakhalok. Totally pathetic that I hadn't been
there on my own before. We rode around the outskirts of the park, in pure
disbelief that this magical park was so close to our home. We went to the
entrance of the park, ready to pay the 100 bhat entrance fee. The thing about
tourist atttactions in Thailand is that farang always have to pay more than
Thai people. It has never bothered me- I think farang should have to pay more.
Thai people should totally get a discount for seeing things in their own
country, but a lot of farang complain about this. Sometimes I try to tell the security guards that
I’m half Thai, so I should only pay half price, but it never works, and in the end I will
never really notice when I’ve paid 20 bhat or 100 bhat to see something so much
more amazing than what 100 bhat it worth. So I’ve given up on the argument. So
I hopped off Kirk’s mororbike to pay the entrance fee for us, and literally
said nothing to the woman expect for “khop kun ka” (thank you) when she
exaclaimed, oh your Thai is so good! Why can you speak Thai?!” So I told
her I'm an English teacher at
Sawananan, yada yada yada and as she is telling me her niece is a student in M3
(meaning that she is actually one of my students because I teach all of M3) she
opens her drawer and starts handing me 80 bhat for me and 80 bhat for
Kirk, saying that we are teachers and live in Thailand, so we pay Thai price.
Wow! Being half Thai doesn't ever get me a discount, but being a teacher at
Sawananan, sure does do the trick! Just call me P’Sonya. So we got in for the
Thai price- 20 bhat, less than a dollar, to see the coolest park in all of
Thailand. <br />
<br />
The park is smaller than Sukhothai’s historical park, which makes it even more chill. With hardly another person in sight all day, it felt like we virtually had the park all to ourselves…well we had to share it with the millions of birds that have made the ruins their home. We started with the tallest hill to play on the tallest chedi that used to over look the old city of Sri Satchanalai. As we were climbing up the hill, it sounded like we had entered an aviary. We could barely hear each other because all we could hear were birds. I guess we entered their nesting grounds because there was nests in every tree we could hear, and bird poop galore! As we entered the clearing where the ruins of the chedi is, the sounds from the birds fell into the background. Except for one little bird. This little guy must have lost his mother- he was the most awkward looking bird- standing straight up like a penguin but had a bit of an ostrich roundish shape, and sounded like a duck gurgling water. He was so freakin cute. I named him Edmund. He wasn’t scared of us, or scared of being on his own, so he kind of just hung out by the chedi on his own, making awkward squawking noises, and keeping us company while we explored the temple.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7ipzCTPw4Gz339p5HbAv1QxPlg9jbmargzJbqTNuWROhe987dqD0zVCdQ5TMR_abwbicmKTE1rAPo3u05VUe8gH5YMVHSp8HAELZIrDxh9ZZ4WkbAwAWVAFn8FZcoI52RJXo7SE-z5E/s1600/IMG_1766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7ipzCTPw4Gz339p5HbAv1QxPlg9jbmargzJbqTNuWROhe987dqD0zVCdQ5TMR_abwbicmKTE1rAPo3u05VUe8gH5YMVHSp8HAELZIrDxh9ZZ4WkbAwAWVAFn8FZcoI52RJXo7SE-z5E/s400/IMG_1766.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EDMUND! </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi794kVBPkDT_S4997578qwfF3gYLm74V9FV0SQidhTFHtr3iE_gib5zJE8IR06NYXrjnSruNs4z6mMFL0heioL4t1IWsfNlgEolLsdTsB0LqDDOOHbb2YH5YwY7ZLi2IJJPlN6Rl4gBio/s1600/IMG_1771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi794kVBPkDT_S4997578qwfF3gYLm74V9FV0SQidhTFHtr3iE_gib5zJE8IR06NYXrjnSruNs4z6mMFL0heioL4t1IWsfNlgEolLsdTsB0LqDDOOHbb2YH5YwY7ZLi2IJJPlN6Rl4gBio/s200/IMG_1771.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5qQ34zzvORQ-r_-qg3vMbY1G19Ynl-MnoWyyMSyUWgyHB41y0aRMUTn9p2TMcJ03o266Vd2vJiRkpGsINzvbkRYWcf1r3ZCCLrTfT2ryVJjZ4Wmbnn6pP2u1D4AtuW7UwkdvKLLQ6qI/s1600/IMG_1762.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5qQ34zzvORQ-r_-qg3vMbY1G19Ynl-MnoWyyMSyUWgyHB41y0aRMUTn9p2TMcJ03o266Vd2vJiRkpGsINzvbkRYWcf1r3ZCCLrTfT2ryVJjZ4Wmbnn6pP2u1D4AtuW7UwkdvKLLQ6qI/s200/IMG_1762.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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After climbing halfway up the chedi, and seeing the park
from the birds-eye-view, we searched for a place to eat lunch. We had packed
some sticky rice for an easy meal, and scoped out a good picnic spot. We
wandered through the park until we found a chedi hidden behind some trees in a
hill. We plopped down in the knee-high grass and enjoyed our pork and sticky
rice, while listening to the most awkward Donald Duck sounding birds. So
pleasant. I think I want to rename this park- it’s not Sri Satchanalai
Historical Park, it’s Sri Satchanalai Bird Zoo. As we were heading back to the
other side of the park, we had to come to a hault at the top of the hill, because
Edmund was hanging out in the middle of the road. There was a van coming from
the other direction that had stopped, waiting for Edmund to get out of the way.
Kirk and I screamed “Edmund” and burst out laughing when his goofy little
headed popped up in our direction. I got off Kirk’s bike and moved him out of
the way so the van could pass. It took all of my self control not to take
Edmund back to Sawankhalok with us. He would have been the coolest pet!</div>
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We didn't explore the rest of the temples, telling ourselves that we will just have to come back to the park multiple times throughout the rest of the semester. So we spent the rest of the afternoon in Sri Satchanalai, checking out the coffee shops and markets in our neighboring town, and purchased the most stand-out farang hats that I love but will probably never wear. </div>
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I like Sri Satchanali. It's a cute little town, but there are no restaurants! We biked around for I think an hour, looking for somewhere to eat dinner. There were some really scary looking clouds moving quickly in our direction, so we quickened our pace of finding a spot for dinner so we could find some cover from the rain. In our third loop around the town, we finally stopped at a noodle stand on the sidewalk as the rain started to fall. We took cover as we watched the massive storm roll through, and slurped our pork noodle soup. It was a very delicious bowl of soup, but I like the food scene in Sawankhalok better. As cool as Sri Satch is, I am definitely happy that I live in Sawankhalok and not Sri Satchanalai. </div>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-85882356327265623452012-06-23T09:32:00.002-07:002012-07-16T07:21:23.151-07:00A new semester, a new beginning. And NEW FRIENDS!!<br />(April-May 30) <br />
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In between all my adventures during the summer break, I
still had plenty of time in Sawankhalok to spend time with some of my favorite
people. The girls I was teaching a special class to took me to the mall in
Phitsanulok one day, a two hour bus ride (which doesn’t include the time it
took for our bus to break down, then waiting at the Sukhothai bus terminal for
an hour waiting for a new bus to take us to PhitLok), just to take me out to a
sushi lunch. Love those girls.
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Also with summer means that Tara and Steven are finished
teaching at Sawananan and were heading back to America. Their departure was
slightly lightened by gaining a new best friend. There is a woman at the night
market who sells rice porridge who I visit regularly to teach her English. My
first night in Sawankhalok after both Tara and Steven left and Be was out of
town, I was on my own…at first it was a relief because I felt like I hadn’t had
time to myself in months. But when I went to the night market to go teach my
friend English and her shop was closed, I all of a sudden felt really lonely. I
grumpily walked to the end of the market and got the same meal I had the first
night I was on my own in Sawankhalok six months ago from the same shop: Pork
basil with a fried egg, my comfort food that will always and forever remind me
of late night dinners with my dad after working at his restaurant all night.
Needless to say, I was feeling a little homesick. I went to the grocery store
on my way home, and I was leaving the parking lot, I heard a familiar voice
calling “Koriiiin” in a terrible Thai accent. It was BaNee, the woman who sells
rice porridge at the night market! I asked her why she closed her shop that
day, and she told me she was taking a few days off, and invited me to come with
her to a temple the next day in Phitsanulok. Desperate for an outing and a
friend, I eagerly said yes and canceled my special class for the next day. She
picked me up early in the morning for what I didn’t know was going to be an all
day adventure. Our first stop was a temple way up in the mountains of
Phitsanulok. I forgot that PhitLok bordered Laos, until BaNee’s friends that
was driving us pointed to the mountains we were approaching and said that past
those mountains is Laos. I had no idea! The temple was unlike any I’d ever
seen. The Buddha shrine was covered in these small brightly colored stones that
were carved into Buddhas. Honestly, they resembled clear plastic toys you could
get in a cereal box, and just seemed kind of strange. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9Y9Cmgje6kJ7S2xOP-mDOQyvpfE2t8LkOv5L11UXyMArysEdhg_Q-9EY0YwSX-ayaSSGzW45oKm3fCM7CtXwZzseWPZPIxXUMLs7mbgVNKVT-DqDxZNs37xFiXsT7E_9xgXmLaR3Xhg/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9Y9Cmgje6kJ7S2xOP-mDOQyvpfE2t8LkOv5L11UXyMArysEdhg_Q-9EY0YwSX-ayaSSGzW45oKm3fCM7CtXwZzseWPZPIxXUMLs7mbgVNKVT-DqDxZNs37xFiXsT7E_9xgXmLaR3Xhg/s320/IMG_0614.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
BaNee’s friend showed me
around the temple (he goes there often) and told me the history of the temple
and the colorful plastic Buddhas. I wish I could relay this information in my
blog, but the whole thing was in Thai, so the little of it I understood, I
can’t remember. Sorry. But he showed me this huge collection of colorful stones
that were on display all over the temple. He insisted that they were from
nature, which I didn’t believe for a second because of their variety in colors.
Nature doesn’t make stones those colors. After lunch with the women who work at
the monastery, we returned to temple. BaNee’s friend told us that if we
“tambun” 500 bhat, we would receive a relic from the monk. 500 bhat is a bit
steep…(about 17 dollars), but I was really happy that they took me on this trip
so I figured it was a worthy donation. BaNee, her other friend P’Kwang, and
myself each chipped in 500 bhat. One by one, the monk handed us each a huge
ugly stone in exchange for our donation. We sat there for a minute,
disappointed and confused, looking at these plain old rocks you could pick up
on the side of any mountain. 500 bhat for an ugly rock?? I was glad BaNee and
P’Kwang were just as confused as I was, because that meant that even though the
whole thing was in Thai, I hadn’t terribly misunderstood something. Then out of
nowhere, this guy that I guess works at the temple came up with hammer, and
started breaking my rock!<br />
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He hammered at it until it cracked in half! He broke
my 500 bhat rock! BaNee and P’Kwang and I just sat kind of helpless, waiting
for it to make sense. He brushed off the debris from my broken 500 bhat rock,
and showed me a crevice in the middle of the rock…under the debris in the
crevice was a shiny…yellow….thing. He took the shiny yellow thing out of the
rock, brushed off the rest of the dust, and plopped the perfectly round bright
yellow glassy stone into my hand. Then he broke open BaNee’s 500 bhat rock to
reveal a purple stone, and P’Kwangs hid a red stone. Soooo everything makes
sense. All those plasticy looking Buddhas are made of these colorful stones.
They are somehow magically formed inside these rocks that the temple workers
pull out from the side of the mountains around this temple. Some woman who
could speak decent English (where was she this whole time…?) came to tell me
what a yellow stone means. Surprise, it is a very lucky color and will bring me
great fortune…but I can’t imagine the other colors differ in their
auspiciousness. </div>
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So I totally trusted the whole thing. I believed that these
rocks have been formed by some mysterious natural process…I mean, it’s
Thailand. Crazy things happen here. Gullable? Maybe. But tell me, how would you
put a stone like that into a natural rock, that has no pre-existing fractures? It’s
not like he tapped it with a hammer and it cracked open perfectly. He had to
bang on that rock for a while just to chip it down to the crevice where the gem
is hidden. How do you fake that? Well, I went to Chompu’s house for dinner the
next night. I told Chompu and Tdi my story and my awesome yellow stone. Tdi
interrupted me mid-story, and exclaimed “No Korin, No. People who make these
stones are bad people. Trust me, they are bad people. I know because I use to
be one of them. I used to make these stones in Uttaradit…” This was a really
cute confession by Tdi because 1. He said it in English, and 2. He’s the
sweetest man I know and I can’t imagine him cheating people like that. So I
still haven’t decided if I believe the temple or Tdi. I still think it’s
impossible to get that gem inside a natural rock. But either way, it was a
donation to the temple anyway, and so it was 500 bhat well spent.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBMu1Oz6H8humJBWyP_AIlZJKRjqnlwznrktM-2uzxtHBnPsldzAu7ezw1qIA07rdpcSkpEgfRKlT_vi2wJauoHfhciUQ8SN911RPO2zJe_B_b7OREkKdE1rbuzrzpBORb1RDT291-ug/s1600/IMG_0657.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBMu1Oz6H8humJBWyP_AIlZJKRjqnlwznrktM-2uzxtHBnPsldzAu7ezw1qIA07rdpcSkpEgfRKlT_vi2wJauoHfhciUQ8SN911RPO2zJe_B_b7OREkKdE1rbuzrzpBORb1RDT291-ug/s320/IMG_0657.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BaNee and I praying at a temple in Pitlok</td></tr>
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Speaking of scams….part of Sawananan being the best school
in the region means we are in charge of holding yearly seminars for teachers in
Sukhothai. There are only 2 other schools in the province that have farang
teachers, so we have become the center for foreign languages, and have to
provide training for 50 English teachers from all over Sukhothai. P’Sonya kind of mentioned this to me in the
beginning of the summer break, but forgot (?) to mention until a few weeks
before our seminar that the training had to be done by farang teachers, AKA, me.
With Tara and Steven back in the states, Be and I were put in charge of running
a three day teachers seminar. Yes, Be and I with our 4 months of teaching
experiences, were going to teach all the teachers in the province, who have
been teaching for 20+ years, how to teach English. Legit? Not in the slightest.</div>
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The seminar actually went surprisingly well. Overbearing me,
I didn’t really let Be do much. Let’s just say this is more my cup of tea than
his. Though he stayed by my side throughout the planning and execution of the
camp, I ended up running all 10 made-up training sessions over the three days. Oh, did I mention, the seminar had to be about the ASEAN community? Yes,
not only do I have to teach how to teach English, but I have to teach about how
to teach about ASEAN in English. (ASEAN is the Association of SE Asian
Nations…the Asian version of the EU, to put it simply), I know a good deal
about ASEAN by now, but how to teach a three day seminar about ASEAN?? Well, I
started with asking the teachers, out of the ten ASEAN nations, where does
Thailand rank in terms of English proficiency? Turns out, like champs, we are
competing with Cambodia for last place. And from my four day experience in Cambodia,
making me a relative expert, I met more English speaking Cambodians on that
trip than I did 3 weeks backpacking through Thailand. Anyway, that was a good
jumping off point for the seminar, to show these jaded teachers, there is a lot
of work to be done if Thailand wants to be a strong ASEAN country!! How
patriotic do I sound?</div>
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After two days of literally making things up as I go to
entertain these teachers, I was so exhausted. Being a one-man show for 8 hours
straight is not easy or fun. Especially when I have no idea what I'm talking about. But the last day made it worth it, kind of.
P’Sonya wanted to have a cocktail party, to show them how “Westerners”
socialize. So (my proudest moment of this seminar), I came up with the do’s and
don’ts of cocktail parties. Whereas Thai parties are a constant eating extravaganza,
with plenty of whisky and karaoke, I had to face an astonished crowd and tell
them there is no singing or dancing at cocktail parties. Unheard of in Thailand!! So my advice included
(from, you know, all my experiences at cocktail parties) 1. Don’t expect to sit
down and eat, 2. Don't expect the food to be delicious, 3. Don’t expect to be full, and 4. It’s always a good idea to keep an
empty plate, so when you’re stuck in a boring conversation, you can easily exit
by saying “oh those dumplings were delicious, I think I’ll go get some more”.
That last one was my favorite, and I really enjoyed sharing that with the Director
later at the cocktail party. So in the end, I think the teachers learned
something? I was surprised my randomly good stage presence, and I think I actually pulled off being a legitimate trainer, so I sure hope they did learn something from me. I am skeptical any of them will change their
teaching habits, but not to worry. The Ministry of Education is forcing our
school to have another teachers seminar, of course run by farang.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-2KUsXRNul1xE98fI-cYKouqS1Wlx8HKme-krkDxVw2AnNbHZ51STJ46XWN-5FyIgx4Wy4tj_eHdk7XD7k4K4KplNC6qXBX2AK2Rvz1vrQ45eBfX7oREVofo5jWx1nWzoUI9qEbPRpQ/s1600/IMG_0846.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-2KUsXRNul1xE98fI-cYKouqS1Wlx8HKme-krkDxVw2AnNbHZ51STJ46XWN-5FyIgx4Wy4tj_eHdk7XD7k4K4KplNC6qXBX2AK2Rvz1vrQ45eBfX7oREVofo5jWx1nWzoUI9qEbPRpQ/s320/IMG_0846.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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At least for the next seminar, I will have new helpers. We now
have two new farang teachers: Bryan and Kirk! Bryan is from the Philippines,
and Kirk from America. Just starting the first week of school, and I love them
already. Almost instantly, the four farang bonded together to form "The F Team".
We’re still working on our individual super powers, but as a whole, we’re a
pretty rad team. It’s nice to have such a tight knit group so early in the
semester, and I can see already that this semester is going to be awesome.</div>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-3124304631565069712012-06-03T10:29:00.000-07:002012-06-05T08:05:17.665-07:00Rugby in Hong Kong(May 11- May 15)
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WIJ-2onlJ_k3gRx3Z-0CjZMz7HrGbFcplGGgtI3w5QAuNtErYke3wpoJ96g0g7LG8eAzlqiB4ibJdd1rCQWrmXfsk7qkDrq8lquN-c-Bed4I-eBjlfGV5HWdVtjojtaMK-xcS5SlRmA/s1600/IMG_0892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WIJ-2onlJ_k3gRx3Z-0CjZMz7HrGbFcplGGgtI3w5QAuNtErYke3wpoJ96g0g7LG8eAzlqiB4ibJdd1rCQWrmXfsk7qkDrq8lquN-c-Bed4I-eBjlfGV5HWdVtjojtaMK-xcS5SlRmA/s400/IMG_0892.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Just before the semester started (literally days before…), I had the opportunity to go with my rugby team from Bangkok to play in a tournament in Hong Kong. Even though I’ve been spending a lot of money on travel, and should be focusing on the new term, I couldn’t say no to playing rugby in Hong Kong. So the weekend before classes started, I hopped on a flight to Hong Kong.
I’ve never had much of an attraction to Hong Kong, and I can kind of see why now. It is so expensive! Before I left, I set aside how much I wanted to spend while there, and changed it into Hong Kong dollars. From arriving at the airport, taking a train and taxi to the hotel and paying for the room plus a deposit, I had already gone through all the money I wanted to spend! And I had only been in HK for an hour. Great.
Luckily we were spending the whole next day on the field. We got to the drizzly field on the top of a steep hill at around 9 AM. Going into this whole ordeal, I figured the teams would be similar to our team: older ex-pats living in foreign countries that play touch rugby for fun. Turns out touch rugby is a big sport in Hong Kong and Singapore, so 9 out of the ten teams came from Hong Kong or Singapore, and were young, fit, serious rugby players. The 10th team was from Bangkok, and were about twice the age as most the other players, and nothing near as fit. Yup, that’s my team. As luck would have it, I got really sick the morning of the tournament. Of course, the team’s youngest, fastest player had a fever, headache, chills, the works. I think it was the sickest I have felt since I’ve been traveling. I played through the first game (we lost), and sucked it up for the second game (where I was really close to scoring a try! Inches away from the line.) I had to take some mystery medicine someone brought from Thailand to get through the rest of them, but whatever it was worked because I felt close to fine for the last three games, and played much better! I didn’t score any tries, but I sure did defend a ton of them! I’m still working on my technique when it comes to touch rugby, so I am still a lousy offensive player, but I can defend against any team. The whole day was so fun, but incredibly tiring. We lost all our games in the round robin, so our last game was against the losers from the other bracket. We were competing for the prize of all prizes, the golden bowl! We played a fantastic game against the other losers, and victoriously took the golden bowl, placing 9th out of 10 for the mixed gender teams. Like true rugby players, we noticed that between the golden cup, plate and bowl, our glorious bowl is the most conducive for drinking beer out of, and we assured ourselves it had taken some clever calculations to know how many games we had to lose to win that bowl. And like any good rugby tournament, the day was followed with an outing at a bar downtown, with free food, drinks and a lot of dancing. Day One, and no money spent. Off to a good start.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNeSlAfAZoENWoPIqp1n3IOrYyGgxXh1mdo72QpEznP2bKFiRc0GlWjyCVZSUv53EdkgF3K8vgjHJYjqjzhDnobvnFk4I9z7HNNuCQ6JSpw3A2G6IWUyX2oK4V6JYi-I99M_xIPSEu_uY/s1600/IMG_0868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNeSlAfAZoENWoPIqp1n3IOrYyGgxXh1mdo72QpEznP2bKFiRc0GlWjyCVZSUv53EdkgF3K8vgjHJYjqjzhDnobvnFk4I9z7HNNuCQ6JSpw3A2G6IWUyX2oK4V6JYi-I99M_xIPSEu_uY/s200/IMG_0868.JPG" width="200" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpRFuh4wcpcdXNV-vCIB9h9xjXC9FYhlj3eoHtcgEktK2a9Aio2vD6UUwGP86q44306OxAngZh87jd9B0QOrknYXweNBRyJSw2q2KuIt2COJkXAqkrfNXeS4ji1DVg63I5h2oU-UUy5M/s1600/IMG_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpRFuh4wcpcdXNV-vCIB9h9xjXC9FYhlj3eoHtcgEktK2a9Aio2vD6UUwGP86q44306OxAngZh87jd9B0QOrknYXweNBRyJSw2q2KuIt2COJkXAqkrfNXeS4ji1DVg63I5h2oU-UUy5M/s200/IMG_0888.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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The next morning, most of the team had a late morning. I suppose ending
at a bar called “From Dusk to Dawn”, that is to be expected. I met up
with some of the other rugby folks for some very necessary Dim Sum. I
must have been spoiled in Chinatown in Philly... despite being in Hong
Kong, the Dim Sum in Philly is better, but maybe that was because the
food comes out in carts. That seems to make all the difference. Shu mai,
Chinese broccoli, spare ribs, and sesame dessert balls later, I was
ready to explore Hong Kong.
So we started with the most touristy thing (but also the thing I
probably most highly recommend doing) in Hong Kong. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLlFavwc6CfUBtZ3nBFQ0hE3X_GmRAID6SxRhlxsdHEwaK0Zc5cX4r5CVAyFEI-5yD4YyiRbPiv6Sc9GrkaEIhYI3WPfJdvYOV4WJDnkjB7XmlcsABxxrOoYJ4GLKxrdiY7oZhkg3VG0/s1600/IMG_0928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLlFavwc6CfUBtZ3nBFQ0hE3X_GmRAID6SxRhlxsdHEwaK0Zc5cX4r5CVAyFEI-5yD4YyiRbPiv6Sc9GrkaEIhYI3WPfJdvYOV4WJDnkjB7XmlcsABxxrOoYJ4GLKxrdiY7oZhkg3VG0/s200/IMG_0928.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvg3h8OaUykA_l7n9X0O9wxAp6fo878_YUERWCiQ-jazPQJH-BGTWu9gZTWlm5iKDIH4usDaypNNwo677VMewjCzkwD6SbDWMmMYypyoBFd7pJ4SZ2FzVx-IxZ1JO28pQ08NHWaz7KNc/s1600/IMG_0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvg3h8OaUykA_l7n9X0O9wxAp6fo878_YUERWCiQ-jazPQJH-BGTWu9gZTWlm5iKDIH4usDaypNNwo677VMewjCzkwD6SbDWMmMYypyoBFd7pJ4SZ2FzVx-IxZ1JO28pQ08NHWaz7KNc/s200/IMG_0959.JPG" width="200" /></a>We took a cute little tram thing to Victoria’s Peak, Hong Kong island’s highest point. The patio at the top that you have to pay for is a bit over rated and expensive, but from the top you can go on an hour long nature walk for free that circumvents the peak. It was approaching sunset as we started on this path, so we got the coolest views of all of Hong Kong in the best lighting.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybJelQ0NRolE9VMYuk-ILs0gfNerfxBj8kUZI0qumG-R8JXls34zFfeZhGrWl3bJWFqXIgzpLxgn-apHRQzKuYHeh92wLbljqdnNtzaCIcbLy1_1OQYjh6yeTnXSA7I7cRzRAMlRpxrc/s1600/IMG_0948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybJelQ0NRolE9VMYuk-ILs0gfNerfxBj8kUZI0qumG-R8JXls34zFfeZhGrWl3bJWFqXIgzpLxgn-apHRQzKuYHeh92wLbljqdnNtzaCIcbLy1_1OQYjh6yeTnXSA7I7cRzRAMlRpxrc/s200/IMG_0948.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyPA47q_hCf-rZm2FTZD4KSjJrQ_LrQUY8tHCTw1eE2JSWIPVlvrcm0rj5TF3HT1FJ6LIpusLOZI65XrW74MX2AUXuticK6O7BCoqiEeYbrt793b39QdZ9LrJYkiH47P3eBpWGII3NBk/s1600/IMG_0975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyPA47q_hCf-rZm2FTZD4KSjJrQ_LrQUY8tHCTw1eE2JSWIPVlvrcm0rj5TF3HT1FJ6LIpusLOZI65XrW74MX2AUXuticK6O7BCoqiEeYbrt793b39QdZ9LrJYkiH47P3eBpWGII3NBk/s200/IMG_0975.JPG" width="200" /></a> Not only is Hong Kong a beautiful city to see from the peak, but it also has the COOLEST BUGS ever!! A lot of people come to Hong Kong to shop. I would totally come here just to check out the bugs.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UgGfc1NMb4RUqOSulSR4Db7-iTtUDdFP8jI_nwbqmWXVBjomoYCwoj-xCemimANsbMpkBe74fnn3AKqg4JDzcOiw0Vjdnqx7eRV_vgsEc_qM8zgNolwYEtBekXawJXt6OgP0JcSUKzM/s1600/IMG_1005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UgGfc1NMb4RUqOSulSR4Db7-iTtUDdFP8jI_nwbqmWXVBjomoYCwoj-xCemimANsbMpkBe74fnn3AKqg4JDzcOiw0Vjdnqx7eRV_vgsEc_qM8zgNolwYEtBekXawJXt6OgP0JcSUKzM/s320/IMG_1005.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Exhausted of beautiful views of Hong Kong, I parted ways with the rugby folks and headed to Kowloon for the night, where I would meet Dave. Dave and I were dating when I first came to Thailand, but after months of not seeing each other, we have decided to go our different ways. But we’re still on awesome terms, awesome enough to meet up in Hong Kong. It actually sounds quite romantic, doesn't it? Rendezvous in Hong Kong? It indeed was a very cool meeting. I met him at the ferry from mainland China, and we caught up over a few beers and a soccer game in a Western bar. I forgot how much I missed interactions like that- first to drink beer instead of whiskey is weird, and to be at a bar with a television? It felt like we were back in Philly for a few hours. Until we left the bar and headed to our crappy little hostel on the 13th floor of a huge hostel/shopping complex in Kowloon. It's a weird little sketchy place, where all the hostels are run by African immigrants for some reason? But it is right in the middle of Hong Kong’s night life and is super cheap.
Dave and I had one full day together before I had to go back to Thailand, so I planned a very full itinerary. Like I said before, a lot of people like to go to Hong Kong to shop. What a lot of people don’t go there to do is hike, and I have no idea why. Hong Kong has endless hiking trails all over all the islands, and they all boast stunning views. So while shopping at Channel and Gucci were certainly on my to-do list (juuust kidding), I opted for a hike instead. We took the subway to Lantau island where we took a cable car to the top-ish of the highest mountain on the island. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPWmWKYVK73zVco8Du1KFe_TWC3cG5IS470ZCab_sb_XY37-2c1wUWwgMJMi64cGFjoqq_5z701vH6N-VkeM0whVilK14uagDtVi4cJkM_IJfKiDmz5YnEQXhyphenhyphendgl8TWM5RbVOa4k6D4/s1600/IMG_1017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPWmWKYVK73zVco8Du1KFe_TWC3cG5IS470ZCab_sb_XY37-2c1wUWwgMJMi64cGFjoqq_5z701vH6N-VkeM0whVilK14uagDtVi4cJkM_IJfKiDmz5YnEQXhyphenhyphendgl8TWM5RbVOa4k6D4/s320/IMG_1017.JPG" width="320" /></a>Towards the top is (not the world’s largest seated Buddha, or the world’s largest bronze Buddha, but) the world’s largest seated bronze Buddha (even Hong Kong has to have some sort of superlative, otherwise who would want to go see a giant Buddha on top of a mountain besides me?)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HyJDpZWPpfnMOIsU1NZfYUbrUluXX4TdK8SAXenrIagWW8mQ0YtJYldTTom3yYr-53C-YMGNIEqr4a-G6_4jOYxbGr0nv8QuKH4t6VY_4gvyYFr1_F3F7BH8le0nmZ8h0F-qj5nHiQM/s1600/IMG_1032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HyJDpZWPpfnMOIsU1NZfYUbrUluXX4TdK8SAXenrIagWW8mQ0YtJYldTTom3yYr-53C-YMGNIEqr4a-G6_4jOYxbGr0nv8QuKH4t6VY_4gvyYFr1_F3F7BH8le0nmZ8h0F-qj5nHiQM/s400/IMG_1032.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIweKMjOPw5OtCLGc-SeggEeFsb0JH_5VbdW4u0u-56gdrPBouBG591R_TrL_PYLhc0Pk3k9UrkkY-1iOTVfRr8liVYw6opY6bDP2QAqHjCbcRPjcc9JT493ny-anfPlwRiJ3vQXzTFYo/s1600/IMG_1049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIweKMjOPw5OtCLGc-SeggEeFsb0JH_5VbdW4u0u-56gdrPBouBG591R_TrL_PYLhc0Pk3k9UrkkY-1iOTVfRr8liVYw6opY6bDP2QAqHjCbcRPjcc9JT493ny-anfPlwRiJ3vQXzTFYo/s320/IMG_1049.JPG" width="320" /></a> And I swear I can’t go anywhere without finding some massive Buddha to take pictures of, so this portion of the itinerary was very necessary.
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After my Buddha fill was complete, we started our hike. I pointed to the highest peak and told Dave we were climbing it.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8XLfwyVMsnPYOOPRPPri15gEventU7DruJQ6Vgc_IWhu0_LZ6YedVEzCdzm9clr9dyPTLOOmd_v55kxBEpbdpa93n2OeJmo6U6wMQFuDe7O-098rLb8IM7hME2Q3Fc7yrA0lIcvHvuQ/s1600/IMG_1060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8XLfwyVMsnPYOOPRPPri15gEventU7DruJQ6Vgc_IWhu0_LZ6YedVEzCdzm9clr9dyPTLOOmd_v55kxBEpbdpa93n2OeJmo6U6wMQFuDe7O-098rLb8IM7hME2Q3Fc7yrA0lIcvHvuQ/s200/IMG_1060.JPG" width="200" /></a> He just kind of laughed, and said yeah right. There is no way we can climb that and get back before dark. But when you basically climb vertically for an hour straight…you can get to the top of any peak. I actually didn’t think it would only take us an hour, but we were above the mist on Lantau’s highest peak before we knew it, and saw a bunch of cool bugs on the way!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjql04w0Ao1Vqm_rqvynxweE-sKMGK2Hw0aTisb4K-cnt4RUQ50-ln3zvG30YOH61q7xRlZxVD8TlGvJ8PGQTXhzc0D8diYxncegZJiAYRUwD5WzacMBdXlQQCJ1R9iiG68hQ8OVyJcwBs/s1600/IMG_1090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjql04w0Ao1Vqm_rqvynxweE-sKMGK2Hw0aTisb4K-cnt4RUQ50-ln3zvG30YOH61q7xRlZxVD8TlGvJ8PGQTXhzc0D8diYxncegZJiAYRUwD5WzacMBdXlQQCJ1R9iiG68hQ8OVyJcwBs/s400/IMG_1090.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4gQcDjaH8D4X-NOYZbFV5L3rkQHa_CwHMFFA5G-4Tlna4FFJac4CGnDfT9yRirig55A0a5it_XLXraTautZ57czIS4losjsv8fY9OaowQOuRc03r4hMXWuqxZPSAE9iRZBy3qAJIpHk/s1600/IMG_1127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4gQcDjaH8D4X-NOYZbFV5L3rkQHa_CwHMFFA5G-4Tlna4FFJac4CGnDfT9yRirig55A0a5it_XLXraTautZ57czIS4losjsv8fY9OaowQOuRc03r4hMXWuqxZPSAE9iRZBy3qAJIpHk/s1600/IMG_1127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4gQcDjaH8D4X-NOYZbFV5L3rkQHa_CwHMFFA5G-4Tlna4FFJac4CGnDfT9yRirig55A0a5it_XLXraTautZ57czIS4losjsv8fY9OaowQOuRc03r4hMXWuqxZPSAE9iRZBy3qAJIpHk/s320/IMG_1127.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilANHQt8-P5YYw7mVWxBNIaXoauVCvQ0NmRUkn8qnfqtEoALArLlsy_b_J56aafcIjRr7XjBljDMHvkcFBr1qj4B6XpSnXFOkSbhCaGQSEwRTiz2jojJJa0wtWSYucgkxsKIQVfQTh2MA/s1600/IMG_1078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilANHQt8-P5YYw7mVWxBNIaXoauVCvQ0NmRUkn8qnfqtEoALArLlsy_b_J56aafcIjRr7XjBljDMHvkcFBr1qj4B6XpSnXFOkSbhCaGQSEwRTiz2jojJJa0wtWSYucgkxsKIQVfQTh2MA/s200/IMG_1078.JPG" width="200" /></a>
The rest of my day-long agenda fell through at that point, because that hike took a lot more out of us than I expected (what a romantic I am, right? I get one day to see my ex, and I decide hiking a mountain would be the best use of time. But it was kind of one of the coolest hikes<br />
I’ve ever done).<br />
<br />
We took the ferry back to Hong Kong island <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjx0Smsv5PDVrkiVNNTSAHap549CxY2FAbYpf-niPCLIxYIE_TYywbTwh1fP4RP71dZhyWpWHqD8nMSqiauJHFx1GKDGNvCh9Ha6rr1gE3nMNZ2IWtolR8NlUr4AjDviGtm-YbvQtuGM/s1600/IMG_1116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjx0Smsv5PDVrkiVNNTSAHap549CxY2FAbYpf-niPCLIxYIE_TYywbTwh1fP4RP71dZhyWpWHqD8nMSqiauJHFx1GKDGNvCh9Ha6rr1gE3nMNZ2IWtolR8NlUr4AjDviGtm-YbvQtuGM/s200/IMG_1116.JPG" width="200" /></a> then headed back to Kowloon to get ready for dinner. We walked inland (away from the awesome waterfront that BBC rated as one of the top five free attractions in the world, Tsim Sha Tsui pier…we stayed less a block away from the pier and I never got to see it. Figures) to where the best cheap food is. Definitely essential for us, Hong Kong is freakin expensive. After checking out a strip of restaurants with signs written all in Chinese and no English menus, we picked a spot with a promising crowd and delicious looking whole duck hanging in the window. We didn’t have duck, but Dave got to show off his Chinese skills and ordered us a feast with chow fun, Chinese greens and squid something. I still like Thai food better, but I totally wouldn’t mind eating Chinese every day either.
After stuffing ourselves way too full, we walked it off for hours while browsing though the street stalls. We took an incredibly long walk back to the hostel, through a different side of the Kowloon night life.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZuUj53T7GyZ6pGcoUD5BnhHiW30vgHgcnAFHwmNNyYXWLcIfEW8MyKwPoFUHktJbY2nP3VpidPKsLAIzFyQqLoR6nq6DQKSzMb_Ronxh34quDgULtw2awL0JhS0RxK3-oyhbMUJggIY/s1600/IMG_1133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZuUj53T7GyZ6pGcoUD5BnhHiW30vgHgcnAFHwmNNyYXWLcIfEW8MyKwPoFUHktJbY2nP3VpidPKsLAIzFyQqLoR6nq6DQKSzMb_Ronxh34quDgULtw2awL0JhS0RxK3-oyhbMUJggIY/s400/IMG_1133.JPG" width="400" /></a>There were still neon lights everywhere, but under them, outdoor restaurants piled high with dishes covered in fish bones, shells and other food remnants, with a bunch of men sitting around the table with their shirts off, stroking their full bellies and spitting in the street. Dave says that’s what its like everywhere in China. Yeah, Hong Kong is cool and all, but I was happy to head back to Thailand.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-63254260491242354722012-05-20T09:34:00.001-07:002012-05-20T09:54:47.695-07:00Revisiting an old home: 日本(Disclaimer: the wonderful miss Sarah Lee was the designated photographer of this journey, and has all the lovely pictures. The only ones I have are of myself because they’re the only ones she has sent to me so far. I promise I’m not that vain, and maybe more pictures are coming)
[April 18-April 22]
Going back to Japan was one of the coolest yet strangest experiences I’ve had since coming to Thailand. First of all, it was so cool to be able to use Japanese again. I thought that after two years of not touching the language, and three years of not really speaking it, going back to Japan would be very difficult. I was surprised, and proud really, to have it come back so quickly. But my four day trip was way too short. Riding the escalator up to departures in the airport in Haneda, I was just coming up with some of the phrases I could have used that day or the day before.
My friend Sarah, another Fulbrighter who teaches in Lampang, joined me for this venture. I am very lucky to have Sarah as a travel partner- she will sacrifice her sleep schedule, comfortability, and eating habits to have a good trip. My kind of traveler. So we attempted Japan on an incredibly tight budget- it’s really hard to be in Japan after being in Thailand for six months. My fanciest dinner in Sukhothai can barely reach Japan’s cheapest street food. It’s really hard to pay five dollars again for a snack, when I haven’t paid more than a dollar for dinner in a while.
I found out a week before the trip that my host parents from Japan had gotten divorced. I had been in better touch with my host mother, Yuko, and had planned to meet her at the airport in Tokyo. We got off the plane to a surprise greeting by Masakazu!!! the father I lived with when I studied abroad 3 years ago. It was a completely fulfilling feeling seeing my casually dressed host dad in the crowd of Japanese business suits, his hair grown out longer than I have ever seen and a huge grin on his face. Masakazu is just as funny and sweet as ever. After briefly introducing Sarah (my first Japanese speaking test!), Masakazu’s first question was, How is Timmy? I failed my second speaking test. No way I could handle answering that in Japanese without practicing first.
Masakazu and Yuko took us back to our old neighborhood for a late night dinner. Our first meal in Japan: tuna sashimi over rice with seaweed, and udon noodle soup. Man, I missed Japan! Masakazu was so enthusiastic, bombarding us with questions about what will we be doing in Japan? How hot is it in Thailand? Korin, will you eat okonomiyaki while you are here? Reaching midnight, our dinner together was way too short. Masakazu handed me a huge bag of snacks “for your students…but you can eat it too”. I was so sad to part ways with him, as Yuko took us to her house for the night.
Yuko is much quieter than Masakazu, but an absolute sweetheart as well. She lives in a beautiful old wooden house outside the city with her parents and her only daughter. I woke early in the morning to my little host sister’s squealing laughter. When I was living with Yuko and Masakazu, they had just had their first baby, Maria. Now about 3 and a half years old, Maria is certainly her father’s daughter, the same enthusiasm and cheerfulness, but a little chubbier. I came downstairs, and was greeted with a powerful hug from my little sister. How could she possibly remember me? She was only a few months old when I was living there, but she spoke my name as if she knew me. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlHuZkrYKLoCt2nOadevRJ5O4pvbyLa4PD8LpleGkLTLLxL3X9oKU6gzCppKERQvrniI35uhA17Xefs-cTJVoJi5VefdqY8nslDgWeS7NyPYDHNlkbwKinzeTdarvuf7SqXVxI0B1uks/s1600/IMG_0507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHlHuZkrYKLoCt2nOadevRJ5O4pvbyLa4PD8LpleGkLTLLxL3X9oKU6gzCppKERQvrniI35uhA17Xefs-cTJVoJi5VefdqY8nslDgWeS7NyPYDHNlkbwKinzeTdarvuf7SqXVxI0B1uks/s320/IMG_0507.JPG" /></a></div> I played with her all morning, playing with words she knew in English and in Japanese (a great Japanese review for me!). Then, one by one, she showed me all the gifts I have sent her over the past three years, cleverly ending with the gift I gave her when I left Japan three years ago: a small wooden box with a heart, for her to keep her most favorite possessions. And inside the box is still the charm I got her from Suitengu shrine, the temple down the street from our old apartment. Yuko has certainly trained her well to be a mature sweet girl.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCdzdaXexWqMKCDhZ0Dj0Pz9wlzbM09dIS-Wu4sqDXpFAu9Hp-5aA-XjoD3TCnz70mjLBJ2aynjg-wwwh1P1K77oY0RRYM65FayVJuytOOq2DFmRvryc9Xg-4_UMh_S-Na99xb2icJT0/s1600/IMG_0519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCdzdaXexWqMKCDhZ0Dj0Pz9wlzbM09dIS-Wu4sqDXpFAu9Hp-5aA-XjoD3TCnz70mjLBJ2aynjg-wwwh1P1K77oY0RRYM65FayVJuytOOq2DFmRvryc9Xg-4_UMh_S-Na99xb2icJT0/s320/IMG_0519.JPG" /></a></div>
After breakfast and lots of play time at Yuko’s, we went into the city to walk around Asakuza, and older neighborhood in Tokyo. The temperature was perfect. Cold, but sunny with only a slight breeze. Sarah fell in love with Tokyo instantly. It’s hard not to really. And I re-fell in love with the city instantly as well. I had forgotten what it was like to wander around any street, for it to be calm and walkable…unlike my beloved Bangkok. Empty streets are a new concept to me these days. We walked around Asakuza, saw some late cherry blossom bloomers, which every passerby was crowded around for one last snapshot. Our destination for the day was Senso-ji in Asakuza, a beautiful old style temple with the famous 5 story pagoda. At Senso-ji, we met with a friend of mine from Philadelphia, Yuan, who is studying abroad through the same program I did.
It was so strange entering the temple at Senso-ji and not Sawatdii-ing a Buddha, and sitting down to pray. Instead you stand and clap twice, then bow your head down in prayer. And you don’t have to take off your shoes! Bit of a culture shock. After walking the shop lined streets in front of the temple, Yuan, Sarah and I parted ways with Yuko and darling little Maria (was NOT ready for that heart-wrenching separation. I really love Maria), <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2iWugdjnjtryfvZziQDXrKVBflUcPD4gBLEkCBLhmrSz7totw-dKAudKRg32kd8BVomRVNbK3kDkvD0MNKq4lh3RXPlWAgX4gne_oFBQ_mIdnuRUzYfBs4sFcHwaMIUPgOMS0_YKNQU/s1600/IMG_0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2iWugdjnjtryfvZziQDXrKVBflUcPD4gBLEkCBLhmrSz7totw-dKAudKRg32kd8BVomRVNbK3kDkvD0MNKq4lh3RXPlWAgX4gne_oFBQ_mIdnuRUzYfBs4sFcHwaMIUPgOMS0_YKNQU/s320/IMG_0528.JPG" /></a></div> and we meandered on to find lunch. Asakuza is well known for its Monja and Okonomiyaki, so that is precisely what we found. There was a tiny little shop down an alley that we snuck into before they closed for lunch. We had to squeeze through the miniscule dining room into the back room of the restaurant, where we took off our shoes, and sat cross legged on the floor around a table with a built in grill to cook our own Monja and Okonomiyaki. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAYJWJl2tHFWDEbKVa_NOyc5tSCYbGgeGGmPAwUEzOQRAMADu3R34AsuV1LEoOJZWSl_8EczZOW2vV52QdlTj8efDKwxZmnwOJKCTLnyDza9ax_cAUt6ftblfLiwAddI8fFZrjX-D_3g/s1600/japan8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAYJWJl2tHFWDEbKVa_NOyc5tSCYbGgeGGmPAwUEzOQRAMADu3R34AsuV1LEoOJZWSl_8EczZOW2vV52QdlTj8efDKwxZmnwOJKCTLnyDza9ax_cAUt6ftblfLiwAddI8fFZrjX-D_3g/s320/japan8.jpg" /></a></div> おいしいですね!
After wandering the old streets of Asakuza, we made our way to the neighborhood north of us, Jinbocho, an area I’ve never been to before. The streets were covered with books! Every store in sight was overflowing with used books, spilling out from one story wooden buildings. It was not the neighborhood we were looking for, but it was a great find, and occupied the remainder of the afternoon wandering through the bookstores, not a single store supplied with anything in English. It was so exciting to hang out with Yuan, to see someone from home. I forgot what it was like to be able to talk to someone about all the stuff going on in Philly, at Temple. She was just finishing her semester in Tokyo, and about to leave for Philly in a few days. I can’t say I wasn’t jealous!
For dinner, Sarah and I were on our own, and we spent a very long time exploring Asakusa’s nightlife. I guess when I was in Tokyo I did most of my exploring during the day, so it was nice to wander at night- a scene I’ve never seen. We found a wonderful strip of restaurants, tucked away from the main strip of tourist shops, but attracted a bustling local crowd. There was not a word of English anywhere, so finding out it was all bars took a while. We saw some people eating, but couldn’t find the things we were looking for: sushi, ramen, udon or sukiyaki. We wandered on, and finally found what we were looking for: Kaitenzushi (conveyor belt sushi). The guy behind the sushi bar LOVED us, and checked out each dish we plucked off the conveyor belt. We noticed a glass jar with squirming little guppies going around the belt, and he insisted they were delicious. He told us you have to just drink the water with the little fishes still swimming around, and swallow them alive. It’s fun, and apparently delicious. I considered trying it for maybe a second, but stuck with my tuna and eel sushi instead.
That evening, we stayed in a Ryokan- an old-fashioned Japanese style inn. The petite two story wooden house had hardwood floors; everything was an antique, with sliding paper doors, tatami mats as beds, and one bathroom for everyone to share. These Ryokans are all over Japan, but we stayed in a backpackers/budget version. That means no traditional style breakfast and no onsen (public baths), but for our short trip it was perfect and cheap!
The next day we had a full agenda. We started with the Shibuya crosswalk, the craziest pedestrian crosswalk in Japan, quite possibly the world. I guess it sounds not that exciting, but anyone who has been to Tokyo talks about it like it is the coolest tourist attraction in Tokyo, and I agree. It is quite a sight. It’s a six way traffic intersection, and every 90 seconds all the cars stop to allow pedestrians to flood the street. And of course, what would this international cosmopolitan hotspot be without a huge Starbucks composed of bay glass windows. Fun fact: this Starbucks has the highest gross sales in the world (and they only sell size “tall” to discourage people from lingering), understandably because its second floor overlooks the coolest crosswalk in the world.
Our visit to Shibuya was complete after finding a side alley packed with ramen noodle shops. It took us forever to pick the right one- for Sarah’s first ramen experience we had to find a small shop with a bar that overlooks the chefs and has seaweed, bamboo shoots and pork with the right varieties of ramen broth. Maybe I was being too picky….but we finally found one. And it was packed! We had to wait a few minutes to snag two seats at the bar after using the ticket vending machine to order our soup, which was ready before we even had enough time to take a million pictures. I can’t believe I used to be able to eat a whole bowl of ramen. They are humongous! And full of deliciousness to the last drop, which I unfortunately didn’t get to this time. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmEGytDC5yTRUDGAaAWQgIGjW5zbCcGnEmKi_mpN-dDtTCEgyJBSyuWmr214GULAxybKvvtfMe-drBgTG3hFxnrsHkk2KIML7xyYaBpsrIwIevaGu9aaO8kh-rhAsFxmHZSkX6jebRV4/s1600/japan7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmEGytDC5yTRUDGAaAWQgIGjW5zbCcGnEmKi_mpN-dDtTCEgyJBSyuWmr214GULAxybKvvtfMe-drBgTG3hFxnrsHkk2KIML7xyYaBpsrIwIevaGu9aaO8kh-rhAsFxmHZSkX6jebRV4/s320/japan7.jpg" /></a></div>
From Shibuya, we walked to another popular neighborhood, Harajuku. It was a longer walk than I remember, mostly because I can never remember the right way even though I used to walk it almost every weekend. Harajuku holds Tokyo’s most famous shrine, Meiji-jingu, I love this shrine because it is in the middle of the busiest section of Tokyo, yet as soon as you enter, the city fades away behind the massive trees. It’s about a mile walk to the center where the temple is, and everything is so quiet except for the massive crows flying over head. The temple itself is also very quiet, not flooded with people like the temples in Bangkok. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxVCtQUbiicT6-z7cp9IfzgQ64CvQBuKu79y199dknrfOqQ7fpevtsbAzszSrHb5B7LhkqseYDXlxQHNJ7EE3agPnJQkjs-Qr_pk4LPdWphBtWFUrR0gM69ZLLmPxcy2rgw3DDFWbTRk/s1600/japan6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="134" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxVCtQUbiicT6-z7cp9IfzgQ64CvQBuKu79y199dknrfOqQ7fpevtsbAzszSrHb5B7LhkqseYDXlxQHNJ7EE3agPnJQkjs-Qr_pk4LPdWphBtWFUrR0gM69ZLLmPxcy2rgw3DDFWbTRk/s320/japan6.jpg" /></a></div>
The quiet temple visit was followed by a walk through the quiet Yoyogi park. This park is not so quiet during cherry blossom, but all of it’s blossom’s have fallen so the park has been forgotten, the water fountains hardly spitting any water only a week or two after the cherry blossom festival. On our way through the park we got stopped by some Japanese boys that were sampling teas. We chatted with them for a little while, the tea warming our cold, unadjusted bodies, and I realized how different the Japanese approach white people. In Thailand, I can’t go anywhere without someone yelling “Hello! Where you come from!” Even in Sawankhalok, its unavoidable. But in Japan, that doesn’t happen! No one even tries English. I was always greeted in Japanese, and conversed in Japanese until I got confused. So strange, because the Japanese speak English better than the Thai’s! They just don’t really want to. Meanwhile the Thai’s want to talk to every farang they meet, but they can’t! So silly, on both their parts!
After wandering the second hand shops and craft stores and madness of Harajuku, we made our way to Shinjuku- Tokyo’s busiest business center, that is iridescent at night with all the fluorescent lights. This huge district is the home to the craziest transportation junction in Tokyo, as well as a Yakuza neighborhood (Japan’s infamous gang). I don’t actually know where that neighborhood is in the mess of Shinjuku, but I do know they have really sketchy bars with really cheap beer. Instead we settled for the closest restaurant we could find- being fatigued and hungry. We found a cute little “domo domo” restaurant on the third floor of some 5 floor restaurant building. They didn’t speak English, but had some menu items in English, so it was the best we could do. I forgot to realize this before we got there that Shinjuku is too international and classy to find REAL Japanese food. So our dinner consisted of expensive fusion food, but it was the first time I ate avocado in a long time, so I guess it was worth it.
Before ending our daylong adventure, we took a quick trip to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building to go skyline gazing. You can go to the 45th floor of the currently tallest building in Tokyo to see 360 degree views of the city for free! I definitely underestimate how much Tokyo has to offer for free, but this is hands down one of the coolest.
Trying to experience everything Japan has to offer, we decided to switch up our comfortable stay in the Ryokan for an adventurous night in a capsule hotel. I’ve seen them on TV before: your room is kind of just a bed that pulls out like a drawer. I was really excited to try it for some reason, but we got there and it was totally anti-climactic. The beds don’t pull out like drawers! It’s more like crawling into a shelf with a shade that pulls down to block the lights from the hall. And actually, for two “shelf” capsules, it was more expensive than a room at the totally awesome Ryokan. Well, learn from my experience- capsule hotels are not worth it.
Our stay at the capsule hotel was short lived anyway. Early (early early) in the morning, we headed to Tsukiji fish market, I think my most favorite place in Tokyo, to meet Yuan. Tsukiji is the largest fish market in the world, supplying the archipelago’s demand of fish with daily boatloads of tuna, shrimp, sea urchins, everything.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCk7_G75AiRIzZJomDafDoAQHuLaNEThItl6CtXKFMQeJGqB1_CVZPVlWHYsOgzvSl-G_3oTqCRalEjPDRulx5iVzIonHGHrlLmhU2KZOQDDzL9dbzWdzlGvX9nQ3xnxMH3tjQCcRxuU/s1600/japan3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCk7_G75AiRIzZJomDafDoAQHuLaNEThItl6CtXKFMQeJGqB1_CVZPVlWHYsOgzvSl-G_3oTqCRalEjPDRulx5iVzIonHGHrlLmhU2KZOQDDzL9dbzWdzlGvX9nQ3xnxMH3tjQCcRxuU/s320/japan3.jpg" /></a></div> If you can get there by 4 A.M., you can witness the tuna auction, but I have yet to actually do that. So by 6 A.M., the best thing you can do is wander and witness the massive tuna race through the market on the backs of mini trucks. It is orderly chaos. And so Japanese. Unfortunately they changed the rules since I had been there, probably thanks to tourists like us that get in the way of their order. Now they don’t let tourists in until 9 A.M., after all the fun is over. It’s very smart for them, but sucks for us. But like bad tourists that ruin it for everyone else, we snuck in anyway, and after getting kicked out for the third time, we got the same breakfast I have gotten every time I visit: Fresh tuna over rice and miso soup with green tea. That breakfast in itself is worth the plane ticket to Japan.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The trip to Tsukiji completed our trip to Tokyo. So we parted ways with Yuan and started our journey towards Osaka. Of course no form of transportation is as good as a train, so we splurged on Japan’s famous bullet train to Osaka. Even getting a smoking car in the most discounted train, or ticket was over $100 each for the four hour ride to Osaka. You know what’s funny about Japan…they told us only the smoking car was available, and I couldn’t believe that a 15 car train that departs every half hour would be that full every day. But I understand why now. I walked through the entire train mid-trip, and their version of a “full train” is that every person or couple that buys a ticket gets a whole row to themselves. This way, everyone gets a window seat, I suppose. It seems silly and inefficient, and stuck us in a smoking car, but everyone gets plenty of personal space. The only other thing with the bullet train is that the scenery isn’t that interesting. It’s very suburban and industrial- no jungle trains like in Malaysia. But Japan is 70% mountainous, so they must make use of all the flat land that they can, I suppose. Though incredibly comfortable and efficient, Thailand’s trains are definitely more interesting.
By the time we got to Osaka, we had to sprint to see Osaka-jo, the castle in Osaka. It was already closed by the time we got there (Happened last time I was in Osaka too!) but just wandering around the grounds outside the castle is amazing. We met some hilarious Japanese people, and I once again became convinced that I will one day have to marry a Japanese guy so I can live here. And of course, the first thing we had to eat in Osaka is my favorite, the famous Takoyaki: fried balls of octopus deliciousness.
After Osaka-jo, I for some reason really wanted to go to Tempozen half an hour outside Osaka to ride the giant Ferris wheel…it was a bit of a random impulse that took us out of our way, but it is the biggest Ferris wheel in the world!! And it was made worth it by meeting this Korean guy outside the train station. I thought he was Japanese, because I think everyone looks Japanese, so I started speaking to him in Japanese. And he spoke back to me for a short while, then said in English, excuse me but I am Korean! Heh I felt bad so started speaking to him in English, but he said he can speak Japanese better than English so we continued our conversation in Japanese. By conversation, I mean very broken phrases and we didn’t really get far in our conversation before we ran out of vocabulary we both understood, but I think it was the first time I have had a mutual conversation in a second language, so it was very exciting for me. We parted ways at the Ferris wheel, because he thought the overpriced aquarium was more worthwhile than the biggest Ferris wheel in the world, with awesome views of Osaka. Poor choice. The Ferris wheel was AWESOME, and it was the perfect lighting just after the sun had set to still see the bay as the night lights started to illuminate the city. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We headed back to downtown Osaka to revisit the night scene that drew me to Osaka when I visited briefly before. There is a crazy pedestrian street, Dotombori Arcade, that is full of restaurant after restaurant of takoyaki, okonomiyaki and yakisoba, with splatterings of the other Japanese specialities. Though we had already eaten Takoyaki at Osaka-jo, we had to help ourselves to another serving at this street vendor that was making the most delicious looking fresh takoyaki, topped with arugula and seaweed. Sounds strange, but it was amazing, and the staff were wonderfully talented. I guess takoyaki is nothing special as it is THE Japanese street food, but these guys were skilled. I’ve never seen such a quick and efficient takoyaki line, and it was supported by a continually growing line of customers.
We meandered through the crazy night life streets back to the capsule hotel where we would be staying the night. This capsule hotel had no shower, so instead we had to walk two blocks down to the public baths. It sounds like a pain (and I guess it was), but it was so totally cool. The people at the public bath were phenomenal, and very interested in Sarah and I. We spent over an hour and a half in the onsen, chatting to the old women. The hottest bath must have been close to boiling point, and you are supposed to go from the hottest bath to the coolest bath. It apparently makes your heart stronger, according to the hardy old women in the baths, and will make you live longer. I couldn’t do it. Sorry heart. So I settled on the luke warm bath until Sarah got her fill of exercising her heart. Our night was completed with a bottle of cheap wine we got from the Shinkansen ride (maybe stuck with the smoking car, but we did get discounted cheap wine), and white chocolate from Masakazu, chillin in our kimonos from the capsule hotel. Classsssy.
Our last day in Japan, we had debated between Kyoto and Osaka, but my heart is really in Osaka so we stayed in town and explored a bit more. We started with a budget breakfast that consisted of onigiri (rice and salmon wrapped in seaweed) from 711 and vending machine coffee, on the steps of Triangle Park in the heart of Ameri-kura, the micro-America in Osaka that is basically a bunch of hippy Japanese youngsters that got stuck in the 80’s. Then we spent too much of the day at a museum north of Osaka. This is the craziest museum I’ve ever been to, and I think everyone knows I don’t really like museums that much. But this was a culture museum, for the wanna-be anthropologist that I am, and it had a compilation of all the cultures of THE WORLD. My eyes started to glaze about 1/5 of the way through the world, but the museum really makes you realize how connected the historic world really was. There are so many similarities across oceans I had never noticed, such as indigenous tools discovered in both Africa and Southeast Asia, and the colorful costumes of tribes from South America and Thailand. It was an incredibly impressive and humbling display. The culture museum is part of a huge park (in the middle of nowhere, Northern Osaka), and the perfect weather was just begging us to have a picnic. Unprepared, we picnicked in style, with another round of canned coffee and chocolate pocky. Oddly, that was probably one of the most memorable moments from the whole trip. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We made our way back to the city to see a beautiful temple on the other side of Osaka. It had closed already, and was incredibly solemn. I’ve never been to a temple like it. There were upright stone blocks that climbed up like a pyramid, that I am guessing were grave stones. It definitely gave off the feel of a graveyard, but there was no clear indication of such anywhere. The only distinct colors around the closed temple were the little red hats that are fitted onto statues’ heads. I forget where I have heard this story, but these little red hats are part of an old Japanese tale about a man who knitted these red hats to put on the statues’ heads to keep them warm in Japan’s frigid winter. That’s not how the story actually goes, but it’s something cute like that, and you see those little red hats all over Japan.
Running low on time (isn’t that always the case?!) before having to catch our flight home to Thailand, we had to race to find a banging Japanese meal. We sprinted to the strip of restaurants and fun we had been to the night before, and ended up going back to the takoyaki masters. This time, we entered the restaurant they are part of to have our last Japanese meal of yakisoba and okonomiyaki. Cooked to perfection, that must have been the best okonomiyaki I have ever had…and I’ve eaten A LOT of okonomiyaki. As we were walking back to the hotel to pick up our bags, we realized we had EXACTLY enough money left to get on the train to the airport. It was quite lucky, but also means we spent way more than we thought we did! How did we spend so much money?! We got to the train station and found out there was an extra transfer we had to make to catch the airport link. Already late, we emptied our pockets looking for enough coins to make the transfer. Sarah the whole time was saying “we're not gonna make it, there is no way we’re making our flight” and I’m just saying, no no it’s fine, we have plenty of time! But in my head, I was totally freaking out, and thought we were going to end up broke in Japan. Amazingly our small change was enough to scrape by and get on the train to the airport, with 100 yen left for a bottle of water at the airport. Crazy ending to an epic (short) adventure.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-14473609318848466262012-04-15T16:55:00.003-07:002012-04-15T17:41:48.830-07:00The Three-Day WaterfightThailand has designed the perfect holiday. Songkran festival, April 13-15th every year, is Thailand’s New Year festival. Falling on the absolutely hottest days of the year (it’s really hot here…) the New Year is celebrated by a literal water fight. It’s supposed to only be three days long, but in actuality people have been splashing water on each other all week, just in preparation for the big days. My students have been talking about it for months, and the day before the festival Kaffa said to me, I think tomorrow if you go to the market, you will get wet. I didn’t really know what she meant. My dad gave me a prep talk before hand about what to expect on Songkran, but I realized going into it that there was really no way to prepare. <br /><br />Luckily I had a wonderful family to take care of me. The day before Songkran, Kru Pet’s niece called Tara and Be and asked them to join her family to go to a waterfall. I have never met her, but she loves Tara and Be and always wants to practice English, and was happy to have me along too. So the morning of April 13th, we headed to Chompu’s house in Sukhothai. This is actually the house we went to for dinner on my birthday, so I’ve met most of her family already. They picked us up from the bus station, the back of their pick up truck already overflowing with a tub of water and nine people, joined by the three of us. Not the most comfortable squeeze, but we didn’t have too far to go. We were going to start our morning in Sukhothai Old City. When Kru Pet found out that Tara and Be and I were going to see his family without him, he got a little jealous, and had his family rearrange their plans to take us to Sukthothai instead, so he could take us to the waterfall the next day. But when we got to Sukthothai city, it was still early, around 9:30, and the first day of the festival, so there weren’t too many people out yet and we only got a little wet. Chompu and her little brother Gao were disappointed, so immediately they said, “Okay, change of plans. We go to Khampangpet!” I don’t know much about Khampangpet, except that they have an Old City there too, and Kru Golf lives there and has told me it's an old hidden treasure, not as cool as Sukhothai but worth checking out. So I was excited. It’s a little over an hour from Sukhothai city, but being Songkran, of course it took us longer than an hour. Every 5 km or so, we had to come to a halt as a group of kids come running up to the car to splash us. And the water fight began. Gao is about 10 years old, and absolutely loves Songkran. He was prepped and ready with buckets and powdered chalk. Part of the water fight is smearing this powdered chalk-goo on each others faces. I think the chalk thing came from what monks used to give blessings, but now it’s just an excuse for teenage boys to touch girls’ faces. We spent the downtime drawing on each other with this chalk stuff. There were 4 of Kru Pet’s nieces and nephews that were about our age, then Gao and Chompu and two other cousins their age, and we had a chalk fight between the 11 of us in the back of the truck, using up so much of it we hardly had any for our targets outside the truck. This chalk thing has turned into such an interesting gesture- when we stop in the middle of the road to get splashed (and splash back), after the storm of little kids with buckets of water passes, there is always a few teenage and up boys that come over with chalk in their hands, and affectionately wipe it on your face, sometimes pinch your cheek or nose. Women do it too, but its really mostly boys. <br /><br />And you know, sometimes I hate being a farang, sometimes I love it. Songkran was one of those times I loved it. When we got into Khampangpet and got stuck in traffic, our car was the main attraction because I was in it. People came running up to the car to splash water on the farang, screaming “Welcome to Thailand”, “What is your name?”, “Where you come from?” Actually by the end of the day, I had gotten so much sun I must have been blending in more, because I heard some guys coming for me saying “luuk-krung!” meaning, half Thai. <br /><br />At Khampangpet, we headed towards the Ping River, where hundreds of families were already gathered, playing in the water and picnicking. As soon as we parked, we jumped right in- already soaked from the drive over. We must have played in the river for three hours or more. I fell in love with Chompu’s youngest cousins, Bow, about 6 years old, and Fai, maybe 4 years old. They were absolutely the most sweetest girls, and wouldn’t let go of me the whole time in the water. Meanwhile, Gao was on my back, asking me to throw him into the air, do a handstand, or pull him upstream. Even though they couldn’t speak English, they all call me “teacher”. We took a break from the water to have a feast. Kru Pet’s brother and sister-in-law set up a huge picnic, complete with the must-haves: grilled chicken, sticky rice, papaya salad, mango, and coconut ice cream! <br /><br />We were reluctant to leave the river, but as the sun was setting, we had a long drive back home and were already soaking wet. We caught a beautiful sunset back to Sukhothai, stopping every so often to get soaked. Chompu invited us to stay at her house that night, which worked in our favor because Kru Pet had originally asked to take us out for Songkran on the 14th, the next day. So Chompu’s parents made us a wonderful dinner, and we fell asleep early, exhausted from the first day of this awesome festival. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdzVTI-Hs4fIHSVGEWaCTINcj9jS8AGSN9qiw8JsJS6WzgnFIZaA6HOw0Hbxuk7dLdLLHyUsUPnJMEBxYefepnELuvGAX3ekzZAHb1x8i3yjmNz_cUs5wXmSYI48LnGKgJe45KhQ61Tg/s1600/IMG_0447.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdzVTI-Hs4fIHSVGEWaCTINcj9jS8AGSN9qiw8JsJS6WzgnFIZaA6HOw0Hbxuk7dLdLLHyUsUPnJMEBxYefepnELuvGAX3ekzZAHb1x8i3yjmNz_cUs5wXmSYI48LnGKgJe45KhQ61Tg/s320/IMG_0447.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731781740536134162" /></a><br /><br />Since Kru Pet couldn’t make it the first day because he already had plans with his friends or something, he wanted the same group of people come out with us for the second day of festivities. After having breakfast, and putting on the same clothes as the day before, Kru Pet took us to his village leader’s house while his brother went to check the rice paddies. The village leader’s son was going to be ordained the next day, and they were getting everything ready. They had just butchered a pig and were cleaning it and cutting it to prepare for the ceremony. I think the village leader is actually his cousin. And after touring the village, I am pretty sure the entire village is really just Kru Pet’s huge family. They pulled up a table for their visitors, gave us a morning bottle of whiskey, and started serving our table with pig intestines. Nothing like the village life in Thailand. I’m growing quite fond of pig intestines, even at 9 in the morning. But we didn’t stay long as they continued to cut apart the pig, as we were eager to get started on our second day of the water fight.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsdcd2NZ2nzRMTQfjuqpA9zCtPDR3LW88WMqWwll4xpTiLMOYLpZLyIUVxfQjY1bsUZQV6XgeokXCqFMh_p0aELb-sgWFIhgW_3iPQQqnFei1HQYzu1UKE0EqFXwQ0dK-iq7LrMF3sTI/s1600/IMG_0454.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsdcd2NZ2nzRMTQfjuqpA9zCtPDR3LW88WMqWwll4xpTiLMOYLpZLyIUVxfQjY1bsUZQV6XgeokXCqFMh_p0aELb-sgWFIhgW_3iPQQqnFei1HQYzu1UKE0EqFXwQ0dK-iq7LrMF3sTI/s320/IMG_0454.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731781753814775234" /></a> (Gao and Chompu making breakfast)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHKRoRbPclpLYfYXMYGcRte4b7C5zlUYTztm6BVGTVDh0Gpg46p1tLDytaVtQsBxs9FdM3rV65WcN1yy9e_RP3cEinBNTiIxrl8fFXMCaLDRm4ia-ZU7bfiVHaaT7Tdg6FGWCuwA4oPw/s1600/IMG_0456.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHKRoRbPclpLYfYXMYGcRte4b7C5zlUYTztm6BVGTVDh0Gpg46p1tLDytaVtQsBxs9FdM3rV65WcN1yy9e_RP3cEinBNTiIxrl8fFXMCaLDRm4ia-ZU7bfiVHaaT7Tdg6FGWCuwA4oPw/s320/IMG_0456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731781762539476626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWmFzy3lWsF5fXy4du50OIt8PeKdtjJPaMYkk9RRIYqY-o4tjBPFxqzx9uBfUsugkcDVdVDERHogNiXOvpcoXC68uO3S75dE4Dpwsx-nKQKTqmyqOHcSGveH8N5qgm0yqmQcNEbW2CUMg/s1600/IMG_0452.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWmFzy3lWsF5fXy4du50OIt8PeKdtjJPaMYkk9RRIYqY-o4tjBPFxqzx9uBfUsugkcDVdVDERHogNiXOvpcoXC68uO3S75dE4Dpwsx-nKQKTqmyqOHcSGveH8N5qgm0yqmQcNEbW2CUMg/s320/IMG_0452.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731781745239024450" /></a><br />(morning views from Chompu's house)<br /><br />The same kids came along with us (yessss) but the environment totally changed having Kru Pet around. He kind of helps bridge the gap between us and his family, but he also likes to monopolize our attention, making Gao and Chompu more shy in front of us. Another sister-in-law came with us this time too, and the party changed from playing with chalk to drinking whiskey and singing, using the buckets as drums instead of for water splashing. This day, we went to a waterfall in Phitsanulok (they kept calling it a waterfall, but it was really just rapids). Like the day before, we headed straight for the water and didn’t want to get out. I jumped right in with Bow, Fai and Gao. This time Bow was the center of my attention. After only an hour, I had taught her to swim to me, and then she was all over the place, pointing to where she wanted me to help her swim to.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRzi43pjmcCTan1AzBOnaDA_ZGPThE-OSoFIOEuoSA5Qn_7FeRgnFqfMTL4V7UQRo9Csb43AzwG8adwVwqe1DBG7aUAP5vmFCzqYvhE8y1dUNxpCaIEcqtyRqrlo7h0PnkPq6_KQNMw0/s1600/IMG_0472.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRzi43pjmcCTan1AzBOnaDA_ZGPThE-OSoFIOEuoSA5Qn_7FeRgnFqfMTL4V7UQRo9Csb43AzwG8adwVwqe1DBG7aUAP5vmFCzqYvhE8y1dUNxpCaIEcqtyRqrlo7h0PnkPq6_KQNMw0/s320/IMG_0472.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731783689795969554" /></a> (Be, Chompu, Tip and Tara by the "waterfall" in Pitlok)<br /><br />After having lunch under the trees, we had to head back home. We decided to stay another night in Sukhothai, mostly because the person who would have to drive us to Sawankhalok (Kru Pet) was not fit to drive. Exhausted and drunk, the adults passed out on the ride back, so I taught Fai and Bow how to say “I love you” in English =)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyOSpv0u3ZhCqr9esa0yPs_ywGBhHPmluKRYRSQx1U3rrsx2x-943_xoxnQ6RYBq3KTRHmTsnRBI3lspof5fVer6Nib0sawZWDRzBetOd7xZImjNO80SzSr_xpsRVIZCe-4fO_MC7Ekg/s1600/IMG_0490.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyOSpv0u3ZhCqr9esa0yPs_ywGBhHPmluKRYRSQx1U3rrsx2x-943_xoxnQ6RYBq3KTRHmTsnRBI3lspof5fVer6Nib0sawZWDRzBetOd7xZImjNO80SzSr_xpsRVIZCe-4fO_MC7Ekg/s320/IMG_0490.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731783714030112850" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOP8z_FKa9GzzdtyG27Y-4T0QEjelXQigXno8iGMoNeKFIc7qWsVuV9bPfs01cmi_6QGFWdc3-flemSzSs3ojWqg7H_Wb9mwY3iD6VV8E4sS0fxXSG3hkjjhyjqtDukPGFserykWBMtKI/s1600/IMG_0489.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOP8z_FKa9GzzdtyG27Y-4T0QEjelXQigXno8iGMoNeKFIc7qWsVuV9bPfs01cmi_6QGFWdc3-flemSzSs3ojWqg7H_Wb9mwY3iD6VV8E4sS0fxXSG3hkjjhyjqtDukPGFserykWBMtKI/s320/IMG_0489.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731783701076737394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2y1ue2DtQ1G5JAMHJ10o8mVHoZTQyMWytyuyZQXgFijiEx94d3oTJ1vou-p_FNIwVa54Cn2jYWLnZjT1bsnFYYBqb47HZdkv1gWgcBEIR2TFVAacYSeFr6E6gC9hJ0DSxiQuzvbg_fM/s1600/IMG_0477.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2y1ue2DtQ1G5JAMHJ10o8mVHoZTQyMWytyuyZQXgFijiEx94d3oTJ1vou-p_FNIwVa54Cn2jYWLnZjT1bsnFYYBqb47HZdkv1gWgcBEIR2TFVAacYSeFr6E6gC9hJ0DSxiQuzvbg_fM/s320/IMG_0477.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731783698517098914" /></a>(My lovely girls, Fai and Bow)<br /><br />That night was a big party in Kru Pet’s village for the son that was going to be ordained. We had dinner twice at two different parties- one of them being the pig we had watched being butchered that morning at the village leaders house. My perception of Kru Pet’s large family was fully realized at this event- every person we were introduced to was a cousin, a brother’s wife, a sister-in-law’s cousin. Really confusing family. Plus Kru Pet’s mix of English and Thai, where he mixes up as many English words as I do in Thai, made it make less sense. <br /><br />After two nights in Sukhothai, we were dying to get home (and get some sleep!) in Sawankhalok. Kru Pet drove us home early in the morning, and we got to check out the big hype in our town. All my students have been saying Songkran in Sawankhalok is the best in the area, and I believe it now. Still wearing the same clothes from the past two days, I biked down to meet my friends and students in the center of town for the epitome of the three day festival. The main road was absolutely jam packed with buckets surrounded by dancing kids, teenagers, parents, everyone. I biked through the madness, which turned into walking with my bike because I was stopped every two feet to get water poured on me and get my face smeared with chalk and baby powder, with a cheek pinch here and there, and even a few hugs and kisses on the cheek from strangers wanting to touch the farang. I bounced between seeing Mint, Kauai, and Kaffa and the M6 and M5 students. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPtIErrvNnqmVWRmu_DrcjY88RNOb-pdaH2drrWSTZ1ODs4sU0yz1AaMwftBdTSkjQQmB1b8b-39wuOjUxtGM5-DQSamIYhAlzSDMEvM9iBuJvf-A0KvFBlS3Dk_iSI2KAN3kGcdmYt0/s1600/IMG_0494.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPtIErrvNnqmVWRmu_DrcjY88RNOb-pdaH2drrWSTZ1ODs4sU0yz1AaMwftBdTSkjQQmB1b8b-39wuOjUxtGM5-DQSamIYhAlzSDMEvM9iBuJvf-A0KvFBlS3Dk_iSI2KAN3kGcdmYt0/s320/IMG_0494.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731781776564352722" /></a> (My M5/01 boys)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CqCoR7wvJSSfWxWAR_jkghNG46EY-KCIDUT_mPv8dGDGPVj7sZWypWAxmOawR2dr4du4ANRjvsmcenu1PsWqqILzNyfiKyruGCTRFeFMn6R4mJuxkBYzGT2EMUTIEdLYgYVXq7HYRuE/s1600/IMG_0498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CqCoR7wvJSSfWxWAR_jkghNG46EY-KCIDUT_mPv8dGDGPVj7sZWypWAxmOawR2dr4du4ANRjvsmcenu1PsWqqILzNyfiKyruGCTRFeFMn6R4mJuxkBYzGT2EMUTIEdLYgYVXq7HYRuE/s320/IMG_0498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731783724794711746" /></a>(Loading up on water from the river)<br /><br />The whole day was filled with music and dancing, and lots of love and blessings. After a huge parade rolled through town, I went out with P’Sonya’s family in their pickup truck to join in the traffic jam of wetness. The sun was already setting, and the buckets of ice water was starting to not feel so great anymore, but I loved seeking out my students and racing them to a source of water to pour on each other. By the end of our elongated pick up truck tour around my town, I was freezing cold. Just as we were coming to an end, one of Steven’s students that I play football with saw me from three cars away. Out of ammo at this point, I was defenseless. He had a huge bucket of water, and came running at me screaming “teacher!” and poured his bucket of ice-cold water down my back. The hottest day of the year in Thaialnd, and I’ve never been so cold!Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-79628388875007741452012-04-12T17:49:00.003-07:002012-04-15T16:06:47.814-07:00A month for adventuresThe adventures started with a last minute decision to go to Cha-am. Tara and Be and I were planning a trip to Bangkok to do some necessary sight see-ing (Wat Phra Kaew), but it turned into a weekend trip to the beach. Cha-am is close to the more well-known beach, Hua Hin, and was the kind of beach I’ve been looking for. Ko Tao, Ko Pha Ngan and Ko Samui are beautiful, but going to those places, I didn’t feel like I was in Thailand. At Cha-am, I KNEW I was in Thailand. The water may not be crystal clear turquoise, and the beach may not be glistening white. Instead, you get miles of picnic tables covered with umbrellas, packed with Thai families or groups of college kids, all tables covered in food. It was a total party- Thai style. For 100 bhat, rent out a picnic table for the day, and you will have people coming to your table all day with fresh crab, som tam made on the spot, gaiyang, quail eggs, beer, soda, anything you could possibly need for a perfect day on the beach. There are people actually swimming in the murky water, kids playing on banana boats, everyone having a good time. Unlike the beautiful touristy beaches where everyone is sun tanning, not swimming in the perfect water and there is no good food to be found. I also like how on Thai beaches, everyone wears their tee-shirts and shorts in the water, including myself because I was too embarrassed to show off my two-piece.<br /><br /><br />Tara and Be and their farang tour guide (me) only got to hang out on the beach, Thai style, for one day. We got there at night and walked along the water while rebellious teenagers shot fireworks off from the beach. We spent the next morning exploring Cha-am and a mangrove forest, then the afternoon was spent on the beach, complete with a picnic table and umbrella, food galore. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVgdlLKdXUPscsceg71aGa9pAIcR4miwjOYc7_nU56SRE19cOtfn-pVjgv5Un6N_88zPlajwKCtxZz9516JZ6iwQkef8UueeyhmnbHWOOIWGin3MZ7V-JH3kQhWhSw-IIizOE2ipGORw/s1600/IMG_0239.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVgdlLKdXUPscsceg71aGa9pAIcR4miwjOYc7_nU56SRE19cOtfn-pVjgv5Un6N_88zPlajwKCtxZz9516JZ6iwQkef8UueeyhmnbHWOOIWGin3MZ7V-JH3kQhWhSw-IIizOE2ipGORw/s320/IMG_0239.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731757525014881058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKnl5LkWRc9n7tCsFbndK4Koavf_DMkFsT5UmiIbEq2VqplLFS_H0ikCWCPaiOSqT_aNA_almTU025S6bo6B1S4VD5jJXwUk67rxqr_-1ek5rSQjxYGB9hqzOFHuF13xlUdG9XUJ0eoYc/s1600/IMG_0166.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKnl5LkWRc9n7tCsFbndK4Koavf_DMkFsT5UmiIbEq2VqplLFS_H0ikCWCPaiOSqT_aNA_almTU025S6bo6B1S4VD5jJXwUk67rxqr_-1ek5rSQjxYGB9hqzOFHuF13xlUdG9XUJ0eoYc/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731760441396025586" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOc1T7RB1xqOMk5DwE9n5Vi0aEWM-kfS9cfQc1Uvp-fAvYd2F_fKbK_OG4le_V5uQa_MpdCxqEjwx-sEc9GPI4sTPoWwO-1rOyBlNpZ80FgPa0Tdi6EvpdaJTLzSJthfkL7RgaOU2MJk/s1600/IMG_0155.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOc1T7RB1xqOMk5DwE9n5Vi0aEWM-kfS9cfQc1Uvp-fAvYd2F_fKbK_OG4le_V5uQa_MpdCxqEjwx-sEc9GPI4sTPoWwO-1rOyBlNpZ80FgPa0Tdi6EvpdaJTLzSJthfkL7RgaOU2MJk/s320/IMG_0155.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731757515916278898" /></a>On our stop in Bangkok on the way home, I took Tara and Be to my favorite rooftop bar near Chula University, where we slowly sipped the one and only cocktail we could afford, and watched the hazy Bangkok sky cover the stars we were able to see in Cha-am.<br /><br />The next adventure started the day after Tara and Be and I got back from Cha-am. The director wanted to give a thank you to the foreign teachers, so P’Sonya and a selection of other teachers took Steven, Tara, Be and I to Kao Koh, a mountain in Petchabun. It was just a day trip…a really early 5AM day trip. But Petchabun province is a beautifully preserved province. The air in Petchabun is even crisper than Sukthothai’s rural atmosphere. This was the first time I really spent a lot of time with Ahjan Anick, who teaches “social” or social studies. He’s the goofiest guy ever, and makes his way into any trip in any department. He barely speaks English, but loves to try to talk to me anyway. He likes to call me an alien, and asks for a menu for aliens when we go out to eat. Such a goofball. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_A3k1PEknEV2Npz5Rqej6SOaVmn_kS4u2X6cjZ0w315GwljusHbTXtpX_mW5K79sU8ur_N7Q96uSXmDdCOxNCBIRqpnmaj9NUMW2nShX2E_1HF5BRPSFgf74dXYVzQYYNBnQViCg6XU/s1600/IMG_0288.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_A3k1PEknEV2Npz5Rqej6SOaVmn_kS4u2X6cjZ0w315GwljusHbTXtpX_mW5K79sU8ur_N7Q96uSXmDdCOxNCBIRqpnmaj9NUMW2nShX2E_1HF5BRPSFgf74dXYVzQYYNBnQViCg6XU/s320/IMG_0288.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731757532952168962" /></a><br /><br />Our first stop was at this amazing temple constructed completely of mosaic tiles and odds and ends, situated at the top of a mountain. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpggPXT8CXOTmGMR_oKHdSXAazBhD4ghV7grNOjSbREA3JhrYS_EIus2JV1WoPqN1_UfIcrBOZmYZJOEijrkSgaIgVstuRlCMCj63q4tR0NFrKZyfq3_k3t8gElvDrkzin-tMG0sFjXQ/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpggPXT8CXOTmGMR_oKHdSXAazBhD4ghV7grNOjSbREA3JhrYS_EIus2JV1WoPqN1_UfIcrBOZmYZJOEijrkSgaIgVstuRlCMCj63q4tR0NFrKZyfq3_k3t8gElvDrkzin-tMG0sFjXQ/s320/IMG_0326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731757537211357474" /></a> We spent maybe two hours just exploring the outside, and never even entered the temple because the outside was too much to take in. Absolutely breathtaking. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsPpkM8zsR9hyphenhyphenSRV-axfzmAowx06DJokzufdQW4Jmkld4eQ9mDXbwKr9FslXYRnZUw7M1fr68F8MFoEx_njh_vd69z4zMlfJdZvv00AAimS5CIRjRS_gonqTWxBYxYs_FwKM4MZULQiI/s1600/IMG_0281.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsPpkM8zsR9hyphenhyphenSRV-axfzmAowx06DJokzufdQW4Jmkld4eQ9mDXbwKr9FslXYRnZUw7M1fr68F8MFoEx_njh_vd69z4zMlfJdZvv00AAimS5CIRjRS_gonqTWxBYxYs_FwKM4MZULQiI/s320/IMG_0281.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731757505254762002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhTSQcID_cHFc6hIBYuiMUcyXSrtSouSXaXLAy6EvrEYXVdl00iSrlb2QMQ16_LkCSoBYNHF_6zxV0x3Ml5RohgMzMp470eZY-8iBVYYT-1bEQPtF-wHzWp_CAsrP6nKRLFHvdzbHQ30/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhTSQcID_cHFc6hIBYuiMUcyXSrtSouSXaXLAy6EvrEYXVdl00iSrlb2QMQ16_LkCSoBYNHF_6zxV0x3Ml5RohgMzMp470eZY-8iBVYYT-1bEQPtF-wHzWp_CAsrP6nKRLFHvdzbHQ30/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731760448933708978" /></a><br /><br />Thennnn the rest of the day was way less exciting. We slowly made our way up Kao Koh. And by slowly, I don’t mean we made frequent stops. I mean the mountain was so steep that the van was crawling at a snails pace. At one point, we had to get out and walk up part of the mountain, because the van couldn’t carry us anymore. At the top of the mountain was a surprisingly lame palace that resembled a deserted tourist center, and an equally disappointing Vietnam War memorial that was poorly designed, and poorly kempt. Not even any striking views from the top. The trip was short-lived, and once we had made it to the top of Kao Koh, we slowly meandered home, stopping at a temple in Pitsanulok on the way.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhbvWMhvYvlvwLGihEkHmSoOO_QtnAMu1RZnRSdAIhcAkAiHh71hOTUDt73bfLMlSY9cSCIDIhgY3Miq7j3ddn7XqTblETR8GmVsiuaMOGFY_xrPbewU4IRR2IA1Dul_CW9mj7m9sa6eM/s1600/IMG_0380.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhbvWMhvYvlvwLGihEkHmSoOO_QtnAMu1RZnRSdAIhcAkAiHh71hOTUDt73bfLMlSY9cSCIDIhgY3Miq7j3ddn7XqTblETR8GmVsiuaMOGFY_xrPbewU4IRR2IA1Dul_CW9mj7m9sa6eM/s320/IMG_0380.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731760459072146386" /></a> (Steven, P'Sonya and myself at a rest stop coming back from Kao Koh)<br /><br />There was one full day of rest until the next scheduled adventure. The foreign language department wanted to go on a trip to Bangkok. I didn’t really want to go because I am sick of Bangkok, but I needed to meet Noah and it was a free ride to Bangkok, so I went along for the ride. I am actually really happy I went because we went to many temples and museums I had never known about. Of course going on a trip with the foreign language teachers means more taking pictures than actually sight seeing. Though now that I finally have a camera, I am more than happy to join in the picture brigade. We stopped at the Golden Mount for a stunning 360 degree view of Bangkok’s old city, then across the street to Wat Ratchanatdaram, the metal palace of heaven, or something. The first of it’s kind in Thailand, the five story palace winds up towards heaven, housing a copper casted Buddha at the top.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYl6myWDrPZEv1VkiAuQhNUgx7an_aIzxqqyJy4lfnruNNLGAFLhgL6un0RpshwHFvPBxqvk1qZWUyAzFV9YBk0C190HwGRBdJk_umXoGBIao-sLsYLsVjWkgkrv7mD304VqL1364T8pk/s1600/IMG_0412.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYl6myWDrPZEv1VkiAuQhNUgx7an_aIzxqqyJy4lfnruNNLGAFLhgL6un0RpshwHFvPBxqvk1qZWUyAzFV9YBk0C190HwGRBdJk_umXoGBIao-sLsYLsVjWkgkrv7mD304VqL1364T8pk/s320/IMG_0412.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731760460559308530" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCno3S8ze4skvKYC3t7Xos0pS7OitxUgXGahnONN-6GkTt1sfDZ5xSUJuu7ciazCq5lhfHPLKstlT6epAngoAWZyMBv78JyQ4IZaMuGqA1O7gcImsUVFy6RSjVEWBjHA0GaueHIER6Ns/s1600/IMG_0425.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCno3S8ze4skvKYC3t7Xos0pS7OitxUgXGahnONN-6GkTt1sfDZ5xSUJuu7ciazCq5lhfHPLKstlT6epAngoAWZyMBv78JyQ4IZaMuGqA1O7gcImsUVFy6RSjVEWBjHA0GaueHIER6Ns/s320/IMG_0425.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731760468156438866" /></a><br /><br />The highlight of the trip for me was Suan Pakkad- literally translated to Cabbage Garden. The tour guide really liked having a farang on the tour (only one farang, because Steven doesn’t count as farang) and joked about this being where the Cabbage Patch kids came from. This old cabbage patch-turned palace houses an amazing collection of artifacts, fossils and crafts from every corner of Thailand, as well as from many countries around the world. This prince that collected all of these things was great- imagine going to every museum in Thailand, taking the coolest thing you can find and putting it together into a humble museum in the middle of Bangkok. I think if this prince were still alive, I would strive to be his best friend, or at least have tea with him in his cool pull out table that is tucked into the floor of the worship room.<br /><br />After that short tour with the teachers, and meeting with Noah, I was on my way to meet Tara and Be in MALASYIA! Even though I went to buy the train ticket two days in advance (usually more than enough time!) the tickets for a sleeper train to Butterworth, Malaysia were sold out. Shoot. It’s a bit of a long story how I got stuck in this situation, but I ended up on a 3rd class coach train to Hat Yai in southern tourism ridden Thailand. I was dreading dreading dreading the train ride I had been so looking forward to… I’ve been dying to take a sleeper train to Malaysia!! I walked onto the already delayed train, and walked further and further back to 3rd class coach….I wish I could say it wasn’t as bad as you would expect, but it was. I sat in a stiff upright chair, a sweet Thai girl across from me with her pet hamster, then a group of rowdy teenagers across the aisle. These boys seemed to know everyone on the train- they had their friends coming to sit on my armrest the whole ride. I offered one of them to sit next to me so he didn’t block the aisle, and he offered me a sip of his cola. No thank you. This was after they were just passing around what I am hoping was just tobacco. I kept my eyes to the window for the rest of the trip.<br /><br />Luckily, even though it seems like this was a terrible trip, it actually ended up being a really good thing. I had been talking to a Malaysian guy while we were waiting for the train. He is a well traveled, obviously well off guy that speaks flawless English. He tried to help me switch to a better car, but judging by the look of the ticket collector on the train, there was no hope for me. But my new friend, Zanif, at least rescued me for a few hours. We went to the dining car together and had a couple beers while the sun was setting over the rice paddies. The dining car is the coolest thing I’ve ever discovered- windows open all the way, people coming in and out, all sharing tables with strangers. Zanif and I were talking about places we have traveled to recently, when another Malaysian asked to join us. Kris is younger than Zanif, maybe in his late 20s or early 30s, and also speaks flawless English, his style more punk rocker, than Zanif’s pristine big words English. Kris’s first question, before he asked my name, was “Republican or Democrat?” We spent hours talking about American and Malaysian politics, a perfect briefing into a quick tour of their country.<br /><br />When I returned to my seat, I fell right asleep. For having an uncomfortable upright chair, I slept much better than I do on the overnight bus to Bangkok from Sukhothai. I think it was the rocking of the train and the open window with the fresh air off the coast rushing through the window. There was a slim quiet guy sitting in the seat next to me when I got back. He sat upright the entire time, never moving an inch until he got off the bus at 2 in the morning. His seat was quickly taken by a nomad on the train. I had seen this guy and his friend roaming around the train all evening, looking for free seats. He promptly fell asleep, instantly letting his head fall onto my shoulder. I elbowed him the first few times, and he rocked back upright, eyes still closed, then slouched back onto me, each time allowing a tad more weight onto me. Defeated, I inched as close as I could to the window and turned my back to him for him to sleep on.<br /><br />Zanif saved me again in the morning. I joined him for a cup of coffee, soon followed by Kris, eyes red and glazed from too much fun the night before. Zanif laughed at how easily I slept- he had a bottom bunk on the sleeper car and couldn’t sleep a wink, while I slept an only slightly interrupted night through. We continued our political discussions from the night before and planned out our different routes to Malaysia. We got to Hat Yai, only three hours delayed, and Kris led us to get bus tickets out of the sad little town. Hat Yai actually just had a bombing two days before we were there- a car bomb that killed 5 and sent I think hundreds to the hospital. The town was quiet- though very clean and not very Thai. I felt like I had entered another country already, but I wasn't yet sure if it was Malaysia or not. With only 15 minutes to get on a bus, I was out of the town quickly, with only enough time to catch a news report about the bomb from a couple days ago. <br /><br />I thought the bus ride would be low key compared to the eventful night before, but apparently Malaysians like me and I made another new friend. A Malaysian man and his wife showed me what became my favorite Malaysian food: nasi lemak, rice cooked with coconut milk, topped with a spicy sauce, hardboiled egg and salted fish. Amazing, and only cost one ringgit; roughly 30 cents. Every rest stop along the 9 hour journey, this couple was at my side, showing me new food, telling my what to do in Malaysia, and insisting I come with them to Terrengu sometime to go scuba diving. After arriving in Kuala Lumpur, I got the usual bombardment of taxi drivers I get anywhere I go in Asia. This time, I told them the hotel I needed to get to, and the taxi just shook his head, and said sorry I can’t take you there. Annoyed, waiting for some kind of catch, I shrugged him off and went to get my bags and find my new friend, thinking to myself “whatever, I’ll just get there myself”. The taxi driver followed me and kept saying “can't drive there”. I stopped to listen to him, and he just pointed down the road and said “two streets. I can’t drive there, because there is a market. You walk, two streets”. Haha woops. So my new friend escorted me to the street, and easy 5 minute walk to the hotel.<br /><br />Tara and Be were already waiting at the hotel, having already spent the day in Kuala Lumpur. Our one full day in Kuala Lumpur was indeed a successful one. We went on an adventure to Batu Caves, a Hindu shrine engulphed inside a limestone cave outside the city. You have to climb 272 steps to get to it, a journey well worth it, even in the pouring rain.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWOjC8lYmLsrw2FIHBahaW5ld3_e-ViLZtU864-UhdJUKaCpWrJV1H0LPeAta_y3ynAuSQseRMUNYEng8CRF5kciwFf5rp4Pr2foi84b6faZFE4s10ql7ZmY0AOg9MbFatdB5cS_SbUvI/s1600/IMG_0084.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWOjC8lYmLsrw2FIHBahaW5ld3_e-ViLZtU864-UhdJUKaCpWrJV1H0LPeAta_y3ynAuSQseRMUNYEng8CRF5kciwFf5rp4Pr2foi84b6faZFE4s10ql7ZmY0AOg9MbFatdB5cS_SbUvI/s320/IMG_0084.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731736817251746194" /></a> The inside of the cave is huge, at least three stories tall, and we were there at the perfect time- when the thunder was close enough that it echoed through the cavern into the opening on the other side. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmdG0IhLvx4tvXqf1ioz3nro0-R0ay9dDCoq7x9OOrfwZyUr5iFtZzR_KIJGfLCYDxWGhVSs47F-scafX1xVVR7GzvTe61c0IHPMH2Ardak71bsJDEqCJMF4osJ-uAqbB3MbRcxZIfA0/s1600/IMG_0064.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmdG0IhLvx4tvXqf1ioz3nro0-R0ay9dDCoq7x9OOrfwZyUr5iFtZzR_KIJGfLCYDxWGhVSs47F-scafX1xVVR7GzvTe61c0IHPMH2Ardak71bsJDEqCJMF4osJ-uAqbB3MbRcxZIfA0/s320/IMG_0064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731739624898964946" /></a>Eerie, but so cool. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0cJLmfdsbO1GU0eM3K6_0zv-o-5UZaF9_V5vZ7lRJZLShg_jkSZKAW4NGTukDFPlv31YXxmF2M15yogWeU8WJL8AdAYfABpnqTakZxXET3B2VwJqY7feJQs2ZbBAsYtmqSkYnHEWwAo/s1600/IMG_0073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0cJLmfdsbO1GU0eM3K6_0zv-o-5UZaF9_V5vZ7lRJZLShg_jkSZKAW4NGTukDFPlv31YXxmF2M15yogWeU8WJL8AdAYfABpnqTakZxXET3B2VwJqY7feJQs2ZbBAsYtmqSkYnHEWwAo/s320/IMG_0073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731739633161106194" /></a><br /><br />The venture to Batu Caves was followed by a walk through downtown Kuala Lumpur to see the Petronas Towers, the largest twin skyscrapers in the world. I like this tidbit about Malaysia, I learned it from Zanif: Apparently, the Deputy Prime Minister, Yassin, is a clever fellow and came up with the idea to build the Petronas Towers. At the time of their construction, it was the tallest structure ever built. But Yassin knew by the time they would be finished, someone else would be building the new tallest skyscraper, which Taiwan indeed did, followed by Dubai. So he said to build twin skyscrapers- because no one will want to build two buildings that tall. So though Taiwan and Dubai have surpassed Kuala Lumpur’s superlative of tallest skyscraper, the Petronas Towers still hold the title of tallest twin skyscrapers in the world, and fuel I suppose a decent share of tourism from it. Honestly, standing below the Petronas Towers…they’re not THAT breathtaking. After climbing 272 steps into a natural cave to worship Shiva for free, paying 50 rinngits to go inside the Petronas Towers was really unappealing. Taking pictures from outside was enough for me, especially because my new camera is so much fun. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgydBpOQsvcy8AaPgvpQdY7V8PC9hFe7zgKyW-T5Bba-iHngiIbmIuM8FxltiojwtFyKIvIoz3Qd7MhBtWtBquaPAX5RfOdtcju6rGuXvZm8ajn5Qgu95Ci8efWg8OCDHo1zVW6h-WgE/s1600/IMG_0093.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgydBpOQsvcy8AaPgvpQdY7V8PC9hFe7zgKyW-T5Bba-iHngiIbmIuM8FxltiojwtFyKIvIoz3Qd7MhBtWtBquaPAX5RfOdtcju6rGuXvZm8ajn5Qgu95Ci8efWg8OCDHo1zVW6h-WgE/s320/IMG_0093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731739666409286418" /></a>This is the Petronas Towers in “fish eye effect”. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_6UsshcztwJUZuu57IyI4XL1cfmUMxHunnyq8yNUjdSeKODyP-remKHBqXYdC_ArAYwbqnk0oqUnbE_0KegwfP2r8lqwnTxywJzBcsZEc9pkG-ipA5F1-UFGdpnEsnbmhlxhvIVBeIo/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_6UsshcztwJUZuu57IyI4XL1cfmUMxHunnyq8yNUjdSeKODyP-remKHBqXYdC_ArAYwbqnk0oqUnbE_0KegwfP2r8lqwnTxywJzBcsZEc9pkG-ipA5F1-UFGdpnEsnbmhlxhvIVBeIo/s320/IMG_0118.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731745128054624306" /></a> And the Petronas towers at night.<br /><br />That evening, I thought it would be a good idea to go to “Bing Walkway” which is reported to have great sidewalk cafes and live jazz music. I guess I was missing Philly, and not thinking about what sidewalk cafes and jazz music would mean for Kuala Lumpur. It was an incredibly Hi So tacky scene- crawling with rich foreigners and expensive western food. So we hopped a couple side streets down and found an awesome street that our tour book missed out on, filled with endless Malaysian food, with oodles of menus to chose from. We ate like royalty under the street lights- complete with sting ray for 7 ringits…roughly 2 dollars. <br /><br />Our fun in Kuala Lumpur was short lived, as we were hopping on a train back north the next day. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTVLov9rNNdZgV7XRydtmg0umnsYx4TOHtgJQL-pVxsK93_pKujO9qDf0x-pplpW0VzgL3g2Rurl2TyVXwNj6rH6vFBg7ErlkOPKJls0b707K9O8-tlReL5WavUemQWoAknx2YcLMJVA/s1600/IMG_0140.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTVLov9rNNdZgV7XRydtmg0umnsYx4TOHtgJQL-pVxsK93_pKujO9qDf0x-pplpW0VzgL3g2Rurl2TyVXwNj6rH6vFBg7ErlkOPKJls0b707K9O8-tlReL5WavUemQWoAknx2YcLMJVA/s320/IMG_0140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731739643345146850" /></a>But honestly, I am not that sad we couldn’t spend more time there. I liked Kuala Lumpur- but it’s definitely having some identity issues. Sandwiched between Bangkok and Singapore, I think KL can’t make up its mind. Its transit strives to mimic Singapore's, but it’s as terribly executed as Bangkok’s. Actually that’s not true- Bangkok may not have much public transit, but it works really well, I guess because its so new. KL’s transit is OLD, and desperately needs renovation. While there is some beautiful old architecture in KL, and a wonderful blend of colonial European with modern Islamic architecture, it seems like the whole city is under construction still. The trains, the train station, everything. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxLJjV8PD6z6TiXNC00w5H0bBIokpg3VA_Da8YJ0-YTs-AFmjWRLSTY2wlITk9yzJxsbbGmguGoYeYUcVMcJzZdyJOsJlXdxCXUDtqpZ7fx6DwaFDz6J0tgi10D5cg60YzCl9DCMJVZQ/s1600/IMG_0102.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxLJjV8PD6z6TiXNC00w5H0bBIokpg3VA_Da8YJ0-YTs-AFmjWRLSTY2wlITk9yzJxsbbGmguGoYeYUcVMcJzZdyJOsJlXdxCXUDtqpZ7fx6DwaFDz6J0tgi10D5cg60YzCl9DCMJVZQ/s320/IMG_0102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731739653245214866" /></a> It has this feel of being a city still under construction, still being built, yet has incredible history that I am worried won’t be preserved. It’s a little sad really. <br /><br />At least there is still a train that goes to Butterworth, and we were off first thing in the morning. The train ride was spectacular, but ended in a not so spectacular place. Butterworth is strange! It is a huge transportation junction between Thailand and Singapore, yet you disembark from the train into an industrial wasteland. I don’t know if Butterworth has an actual city, but if it does, it is not within sight from the train station. We took a gloomy walk to the bus station to hop on a bus north to the border. Of the few hours I spent in Butterworth, I could not tell you a darn thing about it other than its creepy. <br /><br />We spent that night close to the border in a town called Kuala Perlis. The town itself is sad. I thought, being a major seaport to Malaysia’s finest archipelago, the town would at least be a little booming. But we stayed in the only hotel we could find, which had four windowless-make-you-claustrophobic rooms. Good thing Tara and Be and I really like each other, though it was still an incredibly uncomfortable night. We took a walk around the dead town (trying to wear ourselves out so we could quickly fall asleep), and I do have to give some credit to the town. At least more than I give to Butterworth. We walked to the waterfront to find a beautiful (and incredibly expensive) hotel that faced the Andaman Sea. We trespassed onto their private pier that went right into the sea, and watched as lateral bolts of lighting lit up the sky over the sea. We also found the border of Thailand. We decided not to trespass on that one. Instead we snuck onto the grounds of a mosque that we mistook for another hotel in the pouring rain. <br /><br />The next morning, we were in Langkawi, a 99 island archipelago on the northernmost tip of Malaysia’s border. They call it a “geopark” because it is filled with the most amazing geology that I didn’t have enough time to even start exploring. We gave ourselves only one day to enjoy the island, and paid the same amount of money for a bungalow on the beach as we did in that stupid hotel the night before. We were running out of money at this point, so we had to limit our adventures on the island. Really unfortunate timing. As we were about to head to a waterfall, we discovered parasailing that we had accidentally bargained down to 20 USD. It’s been Tara’s dream to go parasailing, so we took the opportunity, and one by one spent twenty minutes suspended in the air, magnificently viewing the mountains, eagles, and shimmering turquoise water around the 99 islands. Well worth it. I will definitely come back to Langkawi one day.<br /><br />Despite our lack of money, we had to take advantage of Langkawi being duty free, and got a bottle of Jack Daniels that would have cost twice as much anywhere else (Thailand's love of whiskey in infectious). We found a Thai woman selling beer (Langkawi is almost dry because of the Muslim population, but it is balanced by the liquor depot and occasional Thai selling beer) that would take our baht. Like rebellious teenagers, we snuck our goods onto the beach for sunset.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTe5khEmIQiHKfCAP97Uw8UFEp0wV_RUVSCMEXn9fiDdyLV1-KcZI60hdkpRKpM8HW4l1iLeuMz5NVWPnrk1bIqlihqWG6Zu9vK831TjmBkJSA0FM-JwzCEO6RZjBHmgepCtanYWV_ZQ/s1600/IMG_0204.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTe5khEmIQiHKfCAP97Uw8UFEp0wV_RUVSCMEXn9fiDdyLV1-KcZI60hdkpRKpM8HW4l1iLeuMz5NVWPnrk1bIqlihqWG6Zu9vK831TjmBkJSA0FM-JwzCEO6RZjBHmgepCtanYWV_ZQ/s320/IMG_0204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731753179514329314" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhyphenhyphen8aaXz020CIanDCUWVGJTamYhdcmZwS8r-K7AZ7AI14HByt-jk27dYvJSbbp0eQlO2AC20IvsSfr2H5ol6pxN3_d86F0xkpw7AsHu3ZXlLcNemk9G2oyHeX2Ib4l_87UA-NUkVxntg/s1600/IMG_0217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhyphenhyphen8aaXz020CIanDCUWVGJTamYhdcmZwS8r-K7AZ7AI14HByt-jk27dYvJSbbp0eQlO2AC20IvsSfr2H5ol6pxN3_d86F0xkpw7AsHu3ZXlLcNemk9G2oyHeX2Ib4l_87UA-NUkVxntg/s320/IMG_0217.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731748444905410642" /></a> We took a dive right as the sun was setting, but our party was shortlived when Be got stung by a nasty jellyfish. A really nasty one! He quickly jumped out of the water, and he immediately had tentacle shaped slashes all over his arm. I’ve never seen a jellyfish sting that bad, it was kinda scary. I’m still coming back to Langkawi one day though.<br /><br />After our one day of jellyfish infested paradise, we were heading back up the coast of Thailand to the country’s most popular tourist destination: Phuket. And man, there is nothing worse than Phuket on a tight budget, but we made do quite elegantly. We stayed at a boring hotel in Phuket town, instead of a bungalow on the beach. This was not because the bungalow was too expensive (it was actually also the same price as that stupid hotel in Kuala Perlis), but it was getting to the beach bungalow that was the problem. It cost the same to get there by taxi as it was to stay there for a night, so we made do in town. I was happy with this decision, because then I got to check out Phuket town’s totally rad Sino-Portuguese architecture. Who goes to Phuket to check out the architecture? I may be the only one. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1OdBtQsV55w0C_okBMXR63WyL1RXja2hizVTy7gknwFjXVBZSYPw82v2T1-2DyX9nHzFG7gEyDJrpIEhRc9Kf_0BZzY4zcyyqF78zQVt-mdxyouQh4bsauhzUBAdAVW53Cdx5H_hH70/s1600/IMG_0251.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1OdBtQsV55w0C_okBMXR63WyL1RXja2hizVTy7gknwFjXVBZSYPw82v2T1-2DyX9nHzFG7gEyDJrpIEhRc9Kf_0BZzY4zcyyqF78zQVt-mdxyouQh4bsauhzUBAdAVW53Cdx5H_hH70/s320/IMG_0251.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731748482186401490" /></a><br />After I had my fill of looking at poorly restored historic houses (poor Tara and Be), we rented a super cute jeep (named Suthep!!! I didn’t name it that either, but it was a sure sign that we had to rent it) and headed to the beach!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUlHICgO_kHxgLu498acP67ph7ZYCl70Ofs0KKF1eN1B3bmip86IopreBhE1jIEpregKCs7W3wj3ONnWNQIenirBEEUr7mPxIhG8dsb0c1ZHnvlOHxGTgOShlmUiESCUb5Md1Z4rDZcc/s1600/IMG_0299.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUlHICgO_kHxgLu498acP67ph7ZYCl70Ofs0KKF1eN1B3bmip86IopreBhE1jIEpregKCs7W3wj3ONnWNQIenirBEEUr7mPxIhG8dsb0c1ZHnvlOHxGTgOShlmUiESCUb5Md1Z4rDZcc/s320/IMG_0299.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731748452109811714" /></a> We hugged the southern coast of Phuket, checking out the local beaches with the best food. We spent our beach time on Kata, which my tour book told me would have stunning limestone cliffsides. I didn’t see any of that, but I did get to swim in the famous turquoise blue Phuket waters, and lay in the pristine white sand. The pristine white sand had spattterings of trash all over it, and was covered in umbrellas and chairs filled with tourists. But it was still lovely. I didn’t get to see any fish though. Sad.<br /><br />In the afternoon, we headed to Phuket’s newest attraction-in-progress, the Big Buddha. This Buddha is massive, and gorgeous, sitting on top of Phuket’s highest mountain. You can see it from almost any beach in Southern Phuket. Dare I say, it is as stunning as “Christ the Redeemer” in Brazil. Well I’ve never been to Brazil, so I can’t say that for sure, but I bet the Big Buddha comes close. It has only been under construction for the past 10 years, and has quite a few years to go, but it is truly amazing. And somewhere on the Big Buddha, there will be a tile saying our names on it! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJQx6nA9wjdIrLevTBe_HrDX93kfYb8jPlblAiq_NVb0wfjc0UkvOHvsTecnQKgQdBdyjVx2wi8K7cadgZIyqy8fI6Oyd5ETIFOTo7VJpdyPcBHKJim-sZwGFLUkIKz6RMmEG0HuT-GA/s1600/IMG_0317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJQx6nA9wjdIrLevTBe_HrDX93kfYb8jPlblAiq_NVb0wfjc0UkvOHvsTecnQKgQdBdyjVx2wi8K7cadgZIyqy8fI6Oyd5ETIFOTo7VJpdyPcBHKJim-sZwGFLUkIKz6RMmEG0HuT-GA/s320/IMG_0317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731748459470844738" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiAtsuqsaJhBY2Pz9wugQT1qE99Ob9tYRyMAVwVDK9KFZXb-qP9-T-Sg5I-k9xnswrEwNOru4UyXhvRsjFMIDUWfrpldEn-YaykuEmwj5fYOou_raK-xVJuJvGJ3PtsJaIy1-xvHYWAo/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiAtsuqsaJhBY2Pz9wugQT1qE99Ob9tYRyMAVwVDK9KFZXb-qP9-T-Sg5I-k9xnswrEwNOru4UyXhvRsjFMIDUWfrpldEn-YaykuEmwj5fYOou_raK-xVJuJvGJ3PtsJaIy1-xvHYWAo/s320/IMG_0339.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731748475939847346" /></a><br /><br />For the last evening of our trip, Tara and I had promised ourselves we would go out for a Hi So dinner in Phuket. And we totally rocked it. We dressed the best we have since we’ve been in Thailand, headed up the coast to Hat Surin, and scoped out the most picture perfect restaurant we could find on the beach. We found a perfectly lit restaurant, just far enough away from the water to give us that perfect ocean breeze. We sipped our mojitos and had my favorite deep fried fish on the bone with garlic, with green curry and mixed vegetables. A true delight. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoby7NOcupUPjxDoBtpXgQm5wvLlcCE9F_3hMJsmOCV9Vo_dIJ8sQjnPCJ7ux7qkaI6fWOhCUbynC75MK7nsEyi42h8RAMdByC5x-27caLBF0bfAzz52dyuwn8JI7-lKjT5CJmM5sctVo/s1600/IMG_0348.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoby7NOcupUPjxDoBtpXgQm5wvLlcCE9F_3hMJsmOCV9Vo_dIJ8sQjnPCJ7ux7qkaI6fWOhCUbynC75MK7nsEyi42h8RAMdByC5x-27caLBF0bfAzz52dyuwn8JI7-lKjT5CJmM5sctVo/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731753190328499874" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb9cbBfw8TrFiQidaSbbgzxnU6tWXkEg5S-93XeOr-sqoa5Rx5nDJ0jpkN5DtzxQ_6ZrO-FsFuNkq_G2Ihoz6Pg0mas3vUGlXoPSdruvGJ2Qe_g2V9qwPRue2DfAXozximIYTFki8pC0/s1600/IMG_0356.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb9cbBfw8TrFiQidaSbbgzxnU6tWXkEg5S-93XeOr-sqoa5Rx5nDJ0jpkN5DtzxQ_6ZrO-FsFuNkq_G2Ihoz6Pg0mas3vUGlXoPSdruvGJ2Qe_g2V9qwPRue2DfAXozximIYTFki8pC0/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731753193593499138" /></a><br /><br /><br />On the way back to Phuket town, we got caught in a wicked storm (what’s with the south and these storms? Why don’t they come up to Sawankhalok?!) We pulled over to watch it come in from the ocean. Sitting in the back of the jeep, I felt like I was in Jurassic Park, waiting for T-Rex to appear behind the next bolt of lightning over the ocean. <br /><br />The end of our adventure ended up being longer than our stay on Phuket. We took a bus to Surrathani, where we had to wait for 12 hours for the next train to Bangkok! Genius trip planner (that’s me) didn’t think about it being a Sunday night of a three day weekend, that just so also happened to be a full moon weekend (which means full moon party at Koh Phan Ngan, just off the coast of Suratthani), an upcoming major holiday this week, and the King’s cousin’s funeral in Bangkok on Monday. Basically what all that means is I picked the worst possible time to catch a train to Bangkok. So we tried to kill 12 hours in Surrathani, another depressing transfer/port town. We took several buses and taxis to try to find anything to do, but just wasted money on looking for nothing, except a decent seafood lunch on a river. So we spent the rest of our wait time at a coffee shop watching horror movies, then sitting on a mat in front of the train station finishing our bottle of Jack Daniels. Sad. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCPYceDxzy6LqlcVstsgGA0XImGXLvGaVbo2yqXaEmcaxCd5aQXKuL6p45hTIzkvcPakXir4IPV0qYbmWE9-NnJtbtk77A5WhWUcJ0Kf1uRHpVMQnjwL5X4weTYVBcsEjWvUZdIGBG10/s1600/IMG_0405.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCPYceDxzy6LqlcVstsgGA0XImGXLvGaVbo2yqXaEmcaxCd5aQXKuL6p45hTIzkvcPakXir4IPV0qYbmWE9-NnJtbtk77A5WhWUcJ0Kf1uRHpVMQnjwL5X4weTYVBcsEjWvUZdIGBG10/s320/IMG_0405.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731753203656183042" /></a><br /><br />But it was all totally worth it because I FINALLY got to go on my sleeper train! And it was so totally cool. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtv4Qfd8wBg4YV8G8nib_fkNRf-z4xqUcEOh6II-walUbLeUoJFFMAMBEuo2-SiJL5HBpGZ89LZfROuVXCQnY2daxTneiNi3uyJnGvx0ePIyg7kJchYcpjel1uj8k2rooq2EAXwFy8xkk/s1600/IMG_0413.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtv4Qfd8wBg4YV8G8nib_fkNRf-z4xqUcEOh6II-walUbLeUoJFFMAMBEuo2-SiJL5HBpGZ89LZfROuVXCQnY2daxTneiNi3uyJnGvx0ePIyg7kJchYcpjel1uj8k2rooq2EAXwFy8xkk/s320/IMG_0413.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731753212193278578" /></a>By the time our hour-delayed train got in, I fell right asleep on my top bunk and slept soundly through the swaying night.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-15958806905278859432012-03-21T18:30:00.003-07:002012-03-22T03:14:16.829-07:00Best. Birthday. Ever.I had just come back from Bangkok the day before my birthday. I walked up to school late (I don’t have to be there at 8 anymore, but everyone else does, but I didn’t think it would matter if I came in at 9) and walked into a meeting I didn’t know was happening. Of course they had been waiting for me...did they even know I was in Sawankhalok? I never told them I was coming in that day. I walk in, and they say, “Oh! This is Korin, she is the Fulbright”. And this group of 4 white people chorus “ohhh you’re the Fulbright!” Great job Korin, way to make Fulbright look good.<br /><br />These four white people were from Wisconsin and came to Thailand for 3 weeks for an exchange program with our school. And they were getting the coolest tour of Sukhothai. For the first day of their trip, they were being taken to Thung Salium, the neighboring town. I took the liberty of tagging along, self-appointing myself as the American ambassador that can help with explaining Thai cultural intricacies in the education system that may interest American teachers. Really, I just wanted to go to these temples in Thung Salium I had never been to! We went to three incredibly different temples- one is the oldest in...the district? The region? I’m not sure what the superlative is, but I AM sure that there is a piece of Buddha himself encased in a relic thingy in the museum. For real. When Siddhartha Buddha himself was incinerated, I guess his ashes had been preserved and spread to various temples (mostly still in India), and Thung Salium has a tiny share! I think we fought over it with Burma for a while, as seems to be a common theme with important Buddhist objects (ahem. Emerald Buddha), but now it is safely tucked away in an unprotected random museum in the middle of Thung Salium that nobody visits and I’ve never heard of. I feel like this is a big deal, and I really don’t know why I just found out about it. I also just found out that we have BAT CAVES!!! in Thung Salium. Like really popular ones that are supposed to be really cool. And I would have been able to tell you all about them, but as we were leaving the third temple, we got hit by the biggest storm I had ever seen in Sawankhalok. Well, I haven’t seen any storms in Sawankhalok- because it hasn’t rained since I moved here. We had all just donated some money to the temple to participate in a prayer of dropping 108 satang coins into little cups (don’t know what the action meant, and why 108, but it was really fun), and we were getting ready to head to the bat caves, when it started downpouring and lightening and thundering like crazy. I guess they thought this was a “mai bpen rai” situation and continued to drive through the storm when the car in front of us (the director’s workers who were carrying our picnic dinner) almost got crushed by a falling tree! The tree fell inches in front of them, and blocked the road to the bat caves. Almost in unison, all the Thai teachers exclaimed what great luck! It’s because we just gave a donation to the temple and prayed to Buddha. I thought that was fantastic- makes me love Buddhism. So we took our good luck and picnic dinner to the director’s (incredibly huge) house, and enjoyed Som Tam, Gaiyang and Khao Nieow, while watching the sky outside turn amazing colors as the sun was setting through the storm. <br /><br /><br />I didn’t have any expectations for my birthday. All I wanted to do on my birthday was go to a temple and give an offering to the monks. When my dad grew up in Thailand, that is what he did on his birthday every year. I didn’t really know how to actually do it, and Tara and Be, being the wonderful people they are, said they would come with me, but they didn’t know what to do either. We bought the basket of food, candles and flowers, but weren’t sure what to do from there….and no one else was being particularly helpful. So I asked Kru Pet to take us (I always feel like he helps us the most, so I always ask him last- I feel bad always asking him, but then he’s the only one who ever actually helps us). He picked us up in the morning, and took us to Wat Sawan Rusaaraam (something like that…) on the other side of the river. None of us, including Kru Pet, had ever been there, but it is closely affiliated with our school. Thank goodness Kru Pet was with us. He casually strolled into the temple, found the head monk eating breakfast, prayed to him, and told him we were teachers from Sawananan and came here to see him. The monk was so so happy. He spent over an hour talking to us, telling us the history of the temple and about the monk who founded it, who also founded our school, and told us that he was so lucky to have three foreigners come to him that day. He assumed that we were Christian, and was so happy to be able to expand our prayers to Buddha. He told us, you we pray in a Buddhist temple, your right hand prays to Buddha, and your left hand prays to the God of your choosing. When you pray in Buddhism, you can pray to any God. This is a very rough translation from the monk, to Kru Pet who said it in easy Thai for Be, than from Be to us, and then from my memory. So don’t take what I just said for fact. In any case, the monk was really happy we were there, and gave all four of us an amulet of the monk that founded the temple and our school. I thought Kru Pet was going to explode with joy- especially because this monk doesn’t usually give out amulets this special. Kru Pet estimated these amulets cost about 500 bhat each, and it is infinitely better to receive them from a monk than to buy it yourself. Chok tdi mak. AND THEN Kru Pet told the monk it was my birthday, so he gave me another extra cute little amulet! SO exciting! So I gave him my offering, and then we poured water into a cup while he gave us a blessing. We took the water outside, and watered a banyan tree. COOLEST EXPERIENCE EVER and was so much more than I was expecting. He also told us if we ever need to go anywhere, we can come to the temple and borrow their van. Then he had one of the monks accompany us to the museum across the street that has all the history of Sawankhalok and Sri Satchanalai, including many ceramics from an 1974 excavation, and many of the belongings of the monk that founded our school. Who else can say they had a monk as a body guard to a museum? Soo cool.<br /><br />We finished our wonderful morning with lunch at my favorite noodle restaurant on the Yom River. Oh my gosh, such a great day. Then in the afternoon, I went to the market to find a cake to give to the johk lady, at her request (I told her the day before that it was my birthday, and she asked if I would eat cake. I told her no that I don’t like cake, so she told me to bring her my cake and she will eat it. So I bought her and her workers little cakes). I found a lady boy selling cakes, and he/she said hello to me in English, looked at me curiously and said to me in Thai, you're half Thai, aren't you? NO ONE ever guesses that I am half Thai. Ever. I actually got mistaken for Italian at the bar last week in Bangkok watching the Wales v. Italy rugby match. Sorry, but I would never root for Italy. Wales won by the way. Anyway I was so excited that the lady boy recognized me as half Thai. And so I have a new English student- he/she wants me to come visit him/her regularly so he/she can practice English.<br /><br />That evening, Kru Pet offered to bring us to his home in Sukhothai and have his parents make us dinner. So he picked us up that evening and we headed to Sukhothai. It was too bad we missed sunset, because his 800 rai (about 400 acres) of rice fields would be so beautiful in the sunset. It was already dark when we got to his parents’ farm, but that didn’t stop us from going out to see his brothers harvest the rice. After driving down a windy road in the pitch dark for about 15 minutes, I think never leaving his parents’ property, we finally approached signs of civilization. There was a monster tractor pacing back and forth, ingesting the grains of rice while tossing aside the reeds. And when I say monster tractor, I mean it really looked like a monster! Or an alien. Maybe a monster alien. It’s two distinct headlight eyes were surrounded by a rainbow assortment of lights all over (every vehicle in Thailand has an array of colorful lights…even tractors), and it had multiple limbs coming out to do various functions, and it glided over the rice field with such ease that it was really hard to believe there was someone hiding in there driving it. So eerie- so awesome. So picture that, and then look up in the sky and see endless constellations. Amazinnnggg. Then the monster tractor came to where we were standing to unload the grains of rice into the truck. One rai of rice paddie supplies roughly 80 kilos of rice. Wow.<br /><br />So after that little slice of heaven, we drove back towards his eldest brothers house, and they cooked us dinner. His house, though still under construction, is built in the old Thai traditional style- made out of wood and on stilts. You climb up to the balcony, then enter into one very large room, which kind of makes up the entire house. The room didn’t have any furniture…and it doesn’t seem like they intend on getting furniture, so dinner was served as is I think is typical in Thailand: on the floor with us sitting around it in a circle. They made us a wonderful local feast: pak bueng (morning glory) from their backyard, laab gop (Thai style salad with frog) I think also from their backyard, an omelet, and pork and cabbage soup. So yummy! We spent most of dinner talking about farming, and they were so excited to hear about my home in America- about my dad’s tractors, my mom’s organic garden, what we use as fertilizers, etc. Who would have thought it would be these moments- talking about fertilizers and tractors over my birthday dinner, that I would miss home the most.<br /><br />The rest of my time since school has ended has been much less exciting. For Fulbright, I have to intern for the month of March. I was very lucky to find an internship with an American Fulbright research grantee that came here to study solar cell lifecycles in Thailand. So this month we are working on writing a paper together on the energy policies of Thailand, and where solar fits into the energy mix. It’s been really easy so far, I can work on the internship from anywhere really, which has allowed me to spend a lot of time in Sawankhalok. The guy I have been working for, Noah, is really brainy, and I think he’s never had someone work for him that gets as excited as I do. Everything he asks me to do is like, the coolest thing in the world. And I feel like I’ve already learned so much about Thailand’s energy policies, though I have barely done anything. The one (huge) annoying thing about this internship is that I have to take frequent trips to Bangkok. <br /><br />Now, you know you’ve been to Bangkok too many times when: 1. Sunrise traffic jams are beautiful. 2. I routinely give myself three hours to run a small errand, because that is probably how long it will take. 3. It’s no surprise to see your bus driver fall asleep while waiting in traffic. By the way, between him and the young kid driving the bus with his head phones in that neglected all forms of traffic laws, I totally prefer the old man that falls asleep at the wheel.<br /><br />Can you tell I’m starting to feel a little fed up with BKK? During my last trip to Bangkok, I probably spent at least half of my time in a vehicle trying to go somewhere. Actually, my last day there, I unintentionally went to every edge of Bangkok on several errands. By the time I boarded the night bus back to Sawankhalok, I was so bored that I decided to tally how many forms of public transportation I had taken that day. And now I will bore you with the details. I made 12 transfers that day, taking 5 different types of public transportation, NONE of them being a taxi (public bus, free van, motorcycle taxi, sky train, and tour bus to Sawankhalok). And the entire day, I only spent 217 bhat on transit. Not bad, eh? This included starting from the most eastern part of Bangkok, to the Northern tip where the regional bus station is, and then accidentally getting on a van to Bangkhuntian while trying to meet up with Noah in Bangmot on the western side of Bangkok. I didn’t know this Bangkhutian campus existed until I got there. The van driver entered the campus via a road that was basically built on top of lakes, which should have been my first sign that I wasn’t in Bangkok anymore. I got to the campus, called Noah and spent 30 minutes on the phone with him trying to find him looking for me. When I finally figured out that Bangkhutian does not mean the same thing as Bangmot, I panicked. Almost in tears, I exclaimed, “Noah…where am I?!” He casually responded, “Okay, so if you look at a map of Bangkok, Bangkhutian is below that…you’re basically at the Gulf of Thailand.” Oh great. At least the hour-long bus ride was free, and I was able to take another free van back to Bangkok to meet Noah. What a mess of a day.<br /><br />Sawankhalok is such a treat coming back from Bangkok. We just started our Mamuang Mapraang Festival, which from what I have heard are all over Sukhothai. The festival celebrates the mamuang (mango) and maprang season- and the police station gets packed with vendors from all over Thailand, selling everything you can imagine (yes, pet rabbits, squirrels and parrots included) except mango and maprang. It’s kind of the ongoing joke- every one goes to the mamuang maprang festival…but there is no mamuang or maprang! But my fridge is already overflowing with maprang, after Kaffa’s father gave me a kilo from their house, and I went maprang picking at another one of my student’s houses in Sawankhalok. His father has 20 maprang trees, and it is like walking into paradise. He doesn’t use any chemicals, so you can just pick a maprang off a tree and eat it right there. Ah, why can’t it be hotter in America so we can have maprang trees?!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bU5qHtv67-HSWICZfIuKJfwBcEioWqwpvIOXui-Sm1v-WUJfhWnTsQ0lUqS89HYZtB5C4lEvQeh3tF1eEi8oeyqAsPsFw14K93ocahMAfjmB-ESHGDm2zE0GQ94pmtj7bG8QXGvvniU/s1600/picking+maprang.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bU5qHtv67-HSWICZfIuKJfwBcEioWqwpvIOXui-Sm1v-WUJfhWnTsQ0lUqS89HYZtB5C4lEvQeh3tF1eEi8oeyqAsPsFw14K93ocahMAfjmB-ESHGDm2zE0GQ94pmtj7bG8QXGvvniU/s320/picking+maprang.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722528155472629522" /></a><br />After going to meditation one day with Kaffa and her boyfriend’s mom, we went to the festival together with nongFang. I guess everyone else was scared of heights, so I got to take nongFang on the Ferris Wheel =) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNEQUtFsam3fyBzYcXN1nwV7WFxxWw2mk3_mcybcwyNpRNrMBC14Wcavw8JaZRJ1i2NywCnyEzZGDfKStLs-3xbYDblQ8jkChmu2XtflF_Td-HqUtwxjnY9pSqRo6aCp_I_M7ZhqZT9c/s1600/ferris+wheel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNEQUtFsam3fyBzYcXN1nwV7WFxxWw2mk3_mcybcwyNpRNrMBC14Wcavw8JaZRJ1i2NywCnyEzZGDfKStLs-3xbYDblQ8jkChmu2XtflF_Td-HqUtwxjnY9pSqRo6aCp_I_M7ZhqZT9c/s320/ferris+wheel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722528149154717474" /></a>But after the Ferris Wheel, she wanted to go on the slide and carousel. Her dad said no, and she was in tears for the rest of the night. Poor nongFang.<br /><br />The next night, Tara and Be and I went to check out the rest of the festival- and we had a feast! Pork satay, oyster omelet, Chiang Mai sausage with sticky rice, that dish with the crispy pork ball that is mashed into a Thai style salad, some weird fish soup, and other unnamable goodies. Soo much good food that we never get in Sawankhalok, with an equally exciting array of snacks to take home.<br /><br />This week, all of the bad students at Sawananan school had to go to disciplinary camp. I had never heard about this, except once when P’Sonya casually mentioned it. She didn’t tell us that all the bad students at Sawananan get sent to a three day boot camp in Phitsanulok where they have to roll around in the dirt and eat food with their dirty hands while getting screamed at by a drill sergeant. Kru Bon told us about it one night when we were all hanging out. Kru Bon took all of us (Tara, Be, me, Kru Pet and Kru Soot) to the Sawankhalok dam to take pictures. I had been there once before with Kaiau, but he wanted to go take sunset pictures (Kru Bon is an art teacher at Sawananan). So we piled in the back of Kru Pet’s truck, and headed to the dam, stopping for beers along the way. It felt so high school, hanging out at the dam, drinking beers from a pick up truck. But instead I was with Thai high school teachers. Weird. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinCRgVfkYS6S5TcmpAJio9Qsc26lVAS7-SICocflcRW0JdPEzZ5oVwgfKfZWKzY0GqNhk2KnDd5Lb44EfqZk0HnH0NaQ_8DEGoaj7OpHxPge8LXc_7H22FRSpJ4yh-Zl15MUR4oRMvw8I/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinCRgVfkYS6S5TcmpAJio9Qsc26lVAS7-SICocflcRW0JdPEzZ5oVwgfKfZWKzY0GqNhk2KnDd5Lb44EfqZk0HnH0NaQ_8DEGoaj7OpHxPge8LXc_7H22FRSpJ4yh-Zl15MUR4oRMvw8I/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722630059946553106" /></a> Kru Bon told us all about this camp he has to take the kids to the next day, and asked if we wanted to come check it out. I had to work on internship stuff, but Tara and Be decided to go. They came back with horror stories about the kids passing out, having to run into the forest at command, and being beat with sticks.<br /><br />The next day, Be had to get his visa renewed in Phitsanulok. He can’t drive because his arm is still sore from the accident, so he asked if I could drive him. Kru Pet lent him his truck, and I jumped on the opportunity of driving a stick shift Toyota pick up truck in Thailand. We took the back roads to Phitsanulok, passing miles of rice paddies, some still immersed in water, others just being harvested. It was so funny driving Tara and Be around. They both look Thai, so we got a lot of great stares when someone would see two Thai people being driven by a farang girl. <br /><br />After Be got his visa stuff done, we had to drop off some bags that got left behind at the disciplinary camp yesterday, so we headed to the military base. We were a little worried coming in, practicing my speech in Thai that I was a teacher from Sawananan and I needed to drop off bags for the students. We pulled in to the first security gate, and the soldier didn’t even blink at the farang driver, he just nonchalantly opened the gate, saluting us as we drove through. We burst out laughing- really?! That is how tight the security is?? We got to the second gate, same thing. Are they even curious about a farang is coming into their military base? They’re probably too scared to speak English. We got to the camp to see the students lounging around, buying snacks, grinning widely. Tara was like, “What?! This is so different than yesterday. This is no fun” They drilled the kids a little bit while we were there, but the big afternoon event was ziplining into the river!!! I think the second day of the camp was less discipline, more adventure camp.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDIwqELk2jFeeOE72lm651HnH0U1E6lviUwmc30ZQA8VLESwjNmbwEHj837wylpDymBFN3_bedfUc9eWQWFB5SuJKNIYk_SLyfIvRnT3IGHqn02sBcRg4FEwU2qVI8FGCUVn7R8UvhmY/s1600/IMG_0080.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDIwqELk2jFeeOE72lm651HnH0U1E6lviUwmc30ZQA8VLESwjNmbwEHj837wylpDymBFN3_bedfUc9eWQWFB5SuJKNIYk_SLyfIvRnT3IGHqn02sBcRg4FEwU2qVI8FGCUVn7R8UvhmY/s320/IMG_0080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722630066018961906" /></a>So Tara and Be and I climbed to the top of the three story tower where kids were ziplining from. It looked soooo fun, I was so jealous. The best were the lady boys- the drill sergeant was pushing the students off the edge, and when it came to the lady boys, they would squeal all the way down. I wasn’t gonna jump, but the drill sergeant saw me trying to leave, pulled me back and took a zipline hook and life jacket from a student in line. He insisted the farang jump with him, and so we cut in front of all the students in line and got set up to jump. For how much the lady boys squealed, it wasn’t really that scary. Half way down the line, the drill sergeant let go and leaned back, holding on with just his legs. I tried the same, but then fell off once we hit the water. Haha, He made fun of me for that. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zDhi73Mx5uEL2zXesCOLbQNydZbQy-5L-tCS9AFciHGYAJ_F3VhdFrUiFcP_y0Hfpu9a5m6Ufwzlw3eXmec51ZytMnRn0TYSUV8TxWaqI-Bsth_w0muJDxX5DVn4K7kXYWndR8H1vZc/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zDhi73Mx5uEL2zXesCOLbQNydZbQy-5L-tCS9AFciHGYAJ_F3VhdFrUiFcP_y0Hfpu9a5m6Ufwzlw3eXmec51ZytMnRn0TYSUV8TxWaqI-Bsth_w0muJDxX5DVn4K7kXYWndR8H1vZc/s320/IMG_0097.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722630080939264514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV5La-ODoBjGmtt_2siSbnQnEU9iz11FvNLI6mkmvoMJnFwf48BPvy81vLmm6rM2bJAWqBBjPmQGKq7WLoPZKL5qrFz1NObY_YoK9zoplgLcNRYLCPLON5T5Nj0Jz547C-MK0cuo7RP8/s1600/IMG_0102.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV5La-ODoBjGmtt_2siSbnQnEU9iz11FvNLI6mkmvoMJnFwf48BPvy81vLmm6rM2bJAWqBBjPmQGKq7WLoPZKL5qrFz1NObY_YoK9zoplgLcNRYLCPLON5T5Nj0Jz547C-MK0cuo7RP8/s320/IMG_0102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722630093184894482" /></a>The water was warm from the sun shining on it all day, but still felt refreshing after this heat wave. Tara and Be jumped together after me, so the three of us were soaked for our sunset drive back to Sawankhalok through the rice paddies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SOUQ2HNhQVl4xorqFvJmkkwPXyDoR-rfpUF4pwhz77ujwQpJtVD3dfMufJJFCtnLV7QvGuLuSpna9Y5FHRgyI6E7RYS2rHgxNSC7BrxIrcSHK8sSHNtpwPQsh55lvwztt1Fxvwmd9nc/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SOUQ2HNhQVl4xorqFvJmkkwPXyDoR-rfpUF4pwhz77ujwQpJtVD3dfMufJJFCtnLV7QvGuLuSpna9Y5FHRgyI6E7RYS2rHgxNSC7BrxIrcSHK8sSHNtpwPQsh55lvwztt1Fxvwmd9nc/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722634364864791714" /></a>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-42919766527107149012012-03-14T08:11:00.003-07:002012-03-14T08:30:25.331-07:00A whirlwind of a semester comes to an end, with the beginning of (another) new familyThe end of the semester has been a nightmare combined with a constant party. Last week was the last week of classes, which was conveniently combined with M3’s standardized testing, M6’s graduation, then M3’s graduation, and a concert on campus every day for almost a week, or just any day there wasn’t some sort of testing. I swear, between the testing, and the random activities, how do the students learn anything to be tested on? Unfortunately, I couldn’t partake in any of the activities, because I was stuck in the office grading…and grading…and grading. I did attend M6’s graduation, which was adorable. Every single one of the 500 students had an enormous bouquet of flowers, was covered in pins made by their classmates, and had presents galore.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLIF492UXq6RoKyvr8CDP3cfM4mSJP2MzSJcubrZnUm5p676hhxOrgmCsivjx9SJ6c1QamMYNOcsKc13mAGytCZIgQ2ca32f9rHA-ifdZkcJrZbrqM_TOPF-_yWkj06ZHiAsVZsiZhiJk/s1600/sawananan+graduation.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLIF492UXq6RoKyvr8CDP3cfM4mSJP2MzSJcubrZnUm5p676hhxOrgmCsivjx9SJ6c1QamMYNOcsKc13mAGytCZIgQ2ca32f9rHA-ifdZkcJrZbrqM_TOPF-_yWkj06ZHiAsVZsiZhiJk/s320/sawananan+graduation.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719771079475517282" /></a>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wBIJ4tr86VdJxl_Uyt1OzvPWjTGmm9WOWnSuS-gs2n1tyX4_-tH8DxLIT2QWvV52jtfW4WPOdQgjyv0X0Onjb5QzvWAxx7RF3BfbTPUReA50QhFynmUT39oxReQUO6I81YEGpkPFebU/s1600/IMG_6483.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wBIJ4tr86VdJxl_Uyt1OzvPWjTGmm9WOWnSuS-gs2n1tyX4_-tH8DxLIT2QWvV52jtfW4WPOdQgjyv0X0Onjb5QzvWAxx7RF3BfbTPUReA50QhFynmUT39oxReQUO6I81YEGpkPFebU/s320/IMG_6483.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719772764533091970" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Kaffa <3</span>
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<br />During the last days of the semester, in between being frustrated with my students that don’t do their work, I have had some genuine moments. Boss, the leader of the whining boys in my Monday class, but also my favorite student in that class by far, didn’t know what to say when he knew it was the last time he was going to see me for the summer. He waved and said, Bye bye techer! I said “bye Boss. Have a good summer.” I could see the panic in his face when he didn’t know what to say back, so he just blurted “I love you”. Oh Boss. I love you too.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYKEzzaKNgBTPeddFJvSa9jDkU3sONCzCq_89DgHcFLGWpr8OO40K7JTWLX4biR2x-Pj3ZLLwrWnweaebIgY2dOPM9q27pkYd56ONEF3jRdyAE2UWh1BIg5efHdoqXMqkJWi0WHl6gDU/s1600/IMG_6478.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYKEzzaKNgBTPeddFJvSa9jDkU3sONCzCq_89DgHcFLGWpr8OO40K7JTWLX4biR2x-Pj3ZLLwrWnweaebIgY2dOPM9q27pkYd56ONEF3jRdyAE2UWh1BIg5efHdoqXMqkJWi0WHl6gDU/s320/IMG_6478.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719772768114264226" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">This isn't Boss- but this is another one of my favorites. His name is Change, from M3/4- one of my 9th graders. Biggest clown ever.</span>
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<br />Man and Sea had a great follow up dance performance at M6’s graduation. Valentine’s Day ended up being anticlimactic, and a bit of a disappointment (after all that work!) so I convinced P’Sonya to let them perform again. Though exhausted with grading, I was so happy to continue to work with them up to the end of the semester, and their second performance was even better than Valentine’s Day. Man and Sea’s class has turned out to be really great and so much fun. Even though I made their final too difficult for them, I spent hours chatting on facebook with them the night before it was due. We joked about the grade I was going to give them if they use google translate on their essay. Sitting at home by myself in front of my computer at 9 at night, I have never laughed so hard. Now the next question: why are these students on facebook for hours when they have finals the next day!?
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<br />One of the best things that had happened at the end of this semester has been starting a rugby team. I didn’t think I was going to get around to it because I was already involved in so many sports. Finally one day, I asked P’Sonya to make an announcement that we would play on Thursday’s free period, and 40 students showed up! Thank goodness Steven and Be decided to join too. What was I going to do with 40 students that couldn’t speak English and wanted to tackle each other?? With my best Thai and their best English, there was no way I would be able to teach rugby (though it would have been a fun experiment!) But with Be and Steven’s help, it was the most fun I think I have had at Sawananan. We split into youngsters and oldsters. The younger students (some girls even!) had a blast, but were alllll over the place. The older kids caught on quick (surprising, because most of them were from my Monday class (Boss’s class), and are never quick when it comes to learning English), and were begging me to teach them how to tackle within half an hour. These boys have learned that I don’t put my foot down often, but I told them flat out no. There was no way I was going to teach those troublemakers how to tackle. Unfortunately, every week since then has been occupied by testing, parties or preparations for parties, so we couldn’t have a follow up rugby session. But Steven’s M2 students run to the office every day after school and ask Steven or me to play. So we have a group of 6 to 8 boys practicing almost every afternoon. So exciting!
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<br />Other than my new rugby team, I was having some major success with takraw. One day, Kru Pet, the takraw coach told me during the morning announcements that he wanted me and Be to be on his takraw team, and that we were going to play in a tournament. His limited English didn’t tell me where and when the tournament was going to be, so I just agreed and crossed my fingers that he wasn’t expecting us to go to Sukhothai that day for the tournament. It turned out that the tournament was just a school wide competition, and students can create a team, and Kru Pet made one teachers team: KBBY for Korin, Be, Bon and Yodpet. When I asked when the competition would be, Kru Pet’s response was: whenever we felt like playing, because he was making up the schedule as we go. So when we weren’t ready to play on Wednesday because we spent the afternoon playing Petanque instead of practicing takraw, he moved the tournament to Thursday.
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<br />And who would have thought that playing in this tournament would have made a huge (positive) impact on my teaching? Well, not necessarily on my teaching, but on my relationship with my students. Even though I had to change into my takraw uniform during lunch, play for two hours, then change back into my skirt for teaching, it was so great to spend those two hours out by the court. It was embarrassing to walk around in shorts on campus during school hours, but in between games, I got to hang out with some of my worst students…the ones that skip (my) class to play takraw. On Thursdays and Fridays I only teach in the morning, so after I spent lunch playing takraw, I hung out at the takraw court and helped Kru Pet teach his classes. I make it sound like it was intentional. But it turns out he was using our tournament as an opportunity to teach his students about takraw. Kru Pet actually teaches the same students I do, so when they all showed up to his class, they thought it was great to have their girl farang teacher as the takraw demonstrator. This is when I fell in love with M3/6, my worst section of 9th graders. I jokingly told Kru Pet to teach his class in English, and was surprised when he went for it and started with “Today….today….today we learn Sepak Takraw”. There was an immediate chorus of “maaiiiiii!!” “pasa thai!!” “mai ao pasa angrit” and told him they weren’t going to take his test if he spoke in English. Hahah they’re so bad.
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<br />Weekends had been even less relaxing than my weeks at school. Sarah came down from Lampang one weekend, and I got to show her my amazing town. We spent the day at Sukhothai historical parks, rented bikes, and took our time through the park taking pictures and eating a lot of food…how life should be. I love Sukhothai Historical Park more every time I go there.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDORdh_h0PIpBsBmvUCqeIlrjFql_PDnFY__kOylSIQdr5lQnzQEm267ueKuqChDrBfkD4Jb61GpWj3RhXt68t9_5FzfgroeRGW0AHY5FfI4oiRlHWLmcGQyKyUYdHB4XnCPmXRVt3-WU/s1600/sukhothai+dance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDORdh_h0PIpBsBmvUCqeIlrjFql_PDnFY__kOylSIQdr5lQnzQEm267ueKuqChDrBfkD4Jb61GpWj3RhXt68t9_5FzfgroeRGW0AHY5FfI4oiRlHWLmcGQyKyUYdHB4XnCPmXRVt3-WU/s320/sukhothai+dance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719771083088551154" /></a>
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<br />The weekend I decided to stay home and “relax” ended up being not so relaxing….Kaffa, an M6 student that has become my best friend, called me on Friday night to ask her to accompany her to Uttaradit, the neighboring province, for an interview. I had no plans for the day, so I said sure. She was so excited, and said Okay! We’ll pick you up at 6! Kaffa doesn’t speak English that well, so I was hoping that she didn’t actually mean 6 in the morning..until I got a call from her at 5:30 in the morning, her sweet energetic voice saying, okay Koriiiiin we are coming to you now!
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<br />So I spent the day in Uttaradit with Kaffa and her family. Her parents are really quiet (which is funny, because Kaffa is so talkative!!) and her little sister is a riot. Her name is Fang (we call her nong Fang, nong meaning little sister). She is four years old and is all over me all the time. While Kaffa went in for her interview, I entertained her sister…or actually she entertained me by singing to me “one little, two little, three little monkeys….” and taught her some words in English, while she unknowingly taught me words in Thai. Yessss, I have finally expanded my Thai vocabulary to that of a 4 year old. After Kaffa’s interview, we went to see the Queen Sirikit Dam (which is kind of funny, because when I first started hanging out with Kaffa it was on the M6 field trip to the King Bhumiphol Dam in Tak…why dams?), and we had lunch looking over the dam. It would have been a beautiful view if it wasn’t covered in smoke from burning palm sugar fields. I spent about a quarter of the time sitting down with the family, most of which was spent spoon feeding nong Fang, then the rest of the time chasing nong Fang around. She tries to race me to everything, and one step away from her destination she always trips and falls as she yells out "chanat!" (winner!), then her eyes fill up with tears, but won't admit she hurt herself. She hardly let go of my hand all day, and showed me around a gorgeous temple in Uttaradit. She even showed me how to pray! So cute.
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<br />Then the rest of the weekend was a literal disaster. I got back to Sawankhalok that afternoon, and started tackling my monster of papers to grade. I got a call from Steven later, telling me that Be and Tara got in a motorcycle accident…he didn’t know how bad it was, but he and Oom didn’t have time to come pick me up and bring me to the hospital with them. So I called Kru Pet, almost in tears, and spent 15 minutes getting the words: accident, hospital, Sri Samrong (the town they were in, about 20 minutes from ‘khalok) through in a mixture of Thai and English. As soon as he figured it out, he was in his truck ready to take me to see them.
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<br />Tara and Be were okay. They hit a truck that went to turn and didn’t see them coming on the motorcycle. The impact wasn’t bad. Their faces got scraped up, and Tara fractured a few fingers. And they were just both in a lot of pain. I felt more bad for them having a mountain of Thai people there, telling them what they should do, when all they wanted was rest. We didn’t stay long. In the morning, I called Steven to see when he was going to the hospital, but he was already there. P’Sonya was already there. And Kru Pet had already left. After several desperate phone calls, there was no one to take me to the hospital which was super frustrating. So I spent the day alone in the office, unhappily going through my mound of grading. I got through half ish, then got impatient and hopped on a bus to the hospital. I immediately was relieved to see Tara and Be, no visitors, and got to really talk to them about how they were doing. I stayed the night with them in the hospital, got some grading done, and slept on an empty patient’s cot. They were in a large room with many patients, no air conditioning, and lots of bugs. So sleep didn’t quite come easily, but luckily Tara and Be got morphine after dinner so were out for the night. I took the bus back to ‘khalok in the morning before school, which was actually really funny. So I am thinking we're catching a local bus that runs within the province. But no. There is ONE BUS that takes all the students from this town to Sawankhalok, and it is a tour bus that runs from Bangkok (7 hours south) to Chiang Rai (6 hours north)!!! And for the twenty minute ride from Sri Samrong to Sawankhalok eery morning, it gets packed to brim, like Tokyo subway style, with students. It's so strange there is no other bus that takes these students to school. And they ride that bus every day.
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<br />So Tara and Be’s accident has been the downside of my time here in Thailand. And you know how bad things always happen in threes? Well I think that happened. The following week, Kru Pet was going to visit Tara and Be, and his brakes on his motorcycle froze up and he flipped over his bike. He only scratched up his hands, and ruined his bike, but he was fine. That was strike two. Then the next weekend, I came to Bangkok early in the morning. I was taking a motorcycle taxi from the bus station to the sky train (DON’T tell my uncle I took a motorcycle taxi!!!). As I reluctantly got on the motorcycle, images of Tara and Be kept flashing through my head as my driver weaved in and out of traffic. Across the intersection, I heard brakes screech, then heard and saw the impact, as a taxi collided with a motorcycle. And the motorcyclist went flying. I could hear him screaming. It was terrible. My driver pulled over, and I took out my phone to call the police. He watched for a minute, then said “by tdi – means “go good”, which I guess means it’s okay to just leave. Terrified, I got back on the bike, as the driver tried to convince me he can take me all the way to my end destination rather than just the closest BTS station….really?! after seeing that accident? I should have taken it as a warning to NEVER RIDE A MOTORCYCLE TAXI AGAIN. But I didn’t learn, and took one this morning, after a motor taxi driver insisted that a motorcycle is more “sabai” than a taxi taxi. Bullshit. But it is 200 bhat cheaper than a taxi, which I guess is worth my life at 5 in the morning.
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<br />On a more positive note… as the hot Thailand summer is approaching, so is mangoooooo season. Oh my goodness. I have eaten at least one mango everyday for the past month I think. On a daily basis, I actually probably eat about three bananas and two mangos. Is that much fruit unhealthy? It’s so delicious. And with mango season has come maprang season too. They’re a cousin of the mango, but smaller and even more delicious when they’re unripe and sour. Now they’re ripe and sweet, and not as fun as when they were sour, but still amazingly delicious. I also eat multiple maprangs after my two mangos…every day. And now the durian is starting to come out. Hahah still haven’t tried that one…but everyone is talking about it.
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3svY1UoKQj8RHZ7_l4Ga3IbTSry8xgWA2UJxBzonDLobVaQ4d55X6z4NOUYrNHpDzmPwahH8ekyZtU5sruwb2evzarihE1liHRjEOxBlgj4h-8McziJRNI7ftmLL9uboxMj0lyYEEMY/s1600/maparang.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3svY1UoKQj8RHZ7_l4Ga3IbTSry8xgWA2UJxBzonDLobVaQ4d55X6z4NOUYrNHpDzmPwahH8ekyZtU5sruwb2evzarihE1liHRjEOxBlgj4h-8McziJRNI7ftmLL9uboxMj0lyYEEMY/s320/maparang.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719774903433052498" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">maprang</span>
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<br />And as my first semester of teaching English comes to a close, of course it’s no surprise that my circle of English students is consistently expanding. By the end of the semester, I was spending at least two nights a week at a new person’s house to practice “English”. This includes: an architect in Sawankhalok, who lives between me and the night market so if I am not having dinner with him, I pass by and say hello every night; the superintendent of the region who serves dinner with a bottomless plate of vegetables he picks from his garden just outside the dining area; all of the PE teachers; and of course the woman that sells jok, my personal favorite student.
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<br />Then one night, as I was doing an English lesson with the woman that sells jok, a Thai couple that was eating jok wanted to talk to me. The guy got my attention by yelling “hey! You speak English. I’m farang. Can you teach me Thai?” He said this in English, and I loved him already. Tdi and Chompu were surprised to learn I lived alone in Sawankhalok, and wanted to take care of me so invited me to dinner at their house the following week. They picked me up at 6 with their friend Toey, and we went off gathering food and sauces from different restaurants literally from every corner of Sawankhalok, our last stop at a small shop in the middle of town for a bottle of whiskey. Between Tdi, Toey and I, we drank the whole bottle of whiskey over our five hour dinner. It was great. Toey speaks English fairly well because he studied in New Zealand, though Toey prefers to speak to me in Thai unless I really don’t understand. Then he’ll tell me it in English and he is a total riot. Tdi and Chompu are the sweetest couple ever (except that the three of them keep insisting I come play golf with them…I really don’t want to play golf), and by the end of the night, Tdi told me several times that he thinks of me as a daughter. Wow, didn’t take long at all! And Toey has quickly taken on the position of my protective older brother. We had dinner again later that week with Tara and Be too, and the normal hilarity ensued. Toey and Tdi are an unstoppable comedic act, even though they differ in age by about 20 years. Sawankhalok is really filled with the most amazing people <3Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-78543372799044974352012-02-12T01:08:00.001-08:002012-02-12T01:37:37.441-08:00Pen palsI had my genius 9th graders write letters to "pen pals" that I will send to my cousin's students in America. This one was my favorite =) Hope you can read it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5JTM2mLAB2bryBJaux52LLeI7crVnsdPiIpuUccGFyvHJKToOyIqmBlSvfKZRkNKy6uzz51IHvyA2oJ0_65j-ZXb_JkbE1XaF0JLdc-6L1UjZBraH5dSexbefX7WKhyVlKf3pUL9Lhc/s1600/kartune.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5JTM2mLAB2bryBJaux52LLeI7crVnsdPiIpuUccGFyvHJKToOyIqmBlSvfKZRkNKy6uzz51IHvyA2oJ0_65j-ZXb_JkbE1XaF0JLdc-6L1UjZBraH5dSexbefX7WKhyVlKf3pUL9Lhc/s320/kartune.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708180485217422882" /></a>Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-33722881462660353512012-02-07T09:17:00.001-08:002012-02-07T09:48:34.852-08:00Rak maak: Lots of love!!With Valentine’s Day quickly approaching, the last few weeks have been filled with lots and lots of love.<br /><br />Starting with the Takraw coach confessing his love for me. I haven’t figured out if he was being serious or not. I think/am going to pretend he was kidding. Good thing Takraw season is over, and the coach doesn’t show up to football practice. If the boys win this football tournament, they can totally thank Be and I. We have fully taken the reigns on this one. My 9th grade boys love it too. Last week, they spent the majority of the class not doing the assignment that I asked them to do, but drawing a map of the school to show me where the other football field is to meet them for practice. I got there (late) and of course only one of my boys from that class was there. But there are plenty of my students on the team, so I can demand when they tell me when the next practice, to tell me in English.<br /><br />I don’t get to spend as much time “coaching” them as I like, because Man and Sea have gotten really into this dance performance they are doing for Valentine’s Day. They have come after school every day, and work for at least an hour, and come to me every free period they have. If only they worked this hard on their English homework! It’s going to be really hard to give them B’s in my class. But Man’s confidence in my class has grown exponentially, and he doesn’t break out in sweat every time I call on him. Last practice, we went to a studio with a mirror. I was working with Sea, while Man was checking himself out in the mirror. I had been calling his name to come help Sea with a move, and he looked up distractedly, saying “sorry teacher, I’m just so handsome”. At least he said it in English.<br /><br />Though Chinese New Year isn’t as big of a deal in Sukhothai as I thought it would be (we even had a full day of school!) it did mean my boyfriend who teaches in China had a week off from school, and could finally visit Thailand! He came up to Sawankhalok and got to surprise the students (a REAL farang!) Of course they were all angels for him, even the boys who have never spoken asked questions. Some classes were shy, and others asked “How long you love Korin?” “Will you marry Korin”. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEnaAOZBJxb9V0hnWNlZeroYRG6WmlQnsl5lrxYPIMxX-Wenlxn2-w9jH_IlJuN2N10j1DWEJk71sidSFrv5-QRnTDJqHh07fbb7_ya-p5vI6E9h7zckyWi5Mrk70q8hWMUseB34Av2E/s1600/DSC02850.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEnaAOZBJxb9V0hnWNlZeroYRG6WmlQnsl5lrxYPIMxX-Wenlxn2-w9jH_IlJuN2N10j1DWEJk71sidSFrv5-QRnTDJqHh07fbb7_ya-p5vI6E9h7zckyWi5Mrk70q8hWMUseB34Av2E/s320/DSC02850.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706447903311435202" /></a> (My incredibly tame 11th graders)<br />I had to prep my lowest level 9th graders the week before by almost directly giving them 10 questions to write down. Once they asked the only 10 questions they had, they had to combine forces to come up with another question in English. After lots of yelling across the room to each other in Thai, they came up with “What do you think about communism?” They can’t even ask what your favorite sport is, but they can ask about communism. I think they are all just faking- I know deep down they can really speak English.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZqSdSRQdJ9oycKhi-MJd0QMoQ817ZlkwS6zTz9caPcN4j4W2ZaStGD5ZqhlhqsFZkledXJcBciNXoOOp0CiCXI5B9pOgy54sDImupFq-bw3bKMFDJHJIyMmVsqwX_AMR0zbqk8hLCaI/s1600/DSC02858.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZqSdSRQdJ9oycKhi-MJd0QMoQ817ZlkwS6zTz9caPcN4j4W2ZaStGD5ZqhlhqsFZkledXJcBciNXoOOp0CiCXI5B9pOgy54sDImupFq-bw3bKMFDJHJIyMmVsqwX_AMR0zbqk8hLCaI/s320/DSC02858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706447890403261842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGQt2Vtqy3UZPlAuxBzjuIEA-JD9PO7xZhav7GgcEjKA-46mxlfXg3HS7BkFEoHVvZk-Fn8T1VTJKUmOJV4H9_dG4xGpktYfblkrw1OlV67K9hkyr3KVRXHQ4i2EsadRzaST7_l3AYZQ/s1600/DSC02859.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGQt2Vtqy3UZPlAuxBzjuIEA-JD9PO7xZhav7GgcEjKA-46mxlfXg3HS7BkFEoHVvZk-Fn8T1VTJKUmOJV4H9_dG4xGpktYfblkrw1OlV67K9hkyr3KVRXHQ4i2EsadRzaST7_l3AYZQ/s320/DSC02859.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706447886209526738" /></a><br />(My out-of-control 9th graders)<br /><br />We sat with some of my students one of the days for lunch in the canteen. I actually never eat in the canteen, but Dave wasn’t going to meet these girls from my Wednesday class, and so they asked if we would eat with them cause they wanted to talk to him. I was overwhelmed with love for these girls- they were so cute and happy to talk to him. I had started a diary exchange with this class (where they write a diary entry, and hand it in, I read and it and write a message back, then they respond, etc.) and after that day, this is what some of them wrote in their diaries:<br /><br />“Today it very happy I was sitting at lunch and eat with the teacher<br />Korin and Boyfriend. Very excited because I do not think thai people<br />eat pretty and cool person. This meal feel very tasty. Enough to tell<br />mother that I had lunch with the teacher I’m very happy. I will<br />remember this day for life, A happy day. I love Korin Rue very very….<br />–Oil<br /><br />"at monday; It was a very good day for me same :) :) It is very happy.<br />I eat lunch food full quick because I full heart. feel warm and<br />acquainted with you much. the first time in life for me.<br />I miss to you and your boyfriend. because you boyfriend. he must back<br />Chinese city :( for make work. I pray give you boyfriend. travel<br />convenient and not meet danger."<br />-Pop<br /><br />My heart almost burst with love for these girls, even though I am pretty sure they were using google translate. It was still so cute. So much love!!<br /><br />After Dave’s two day tour of my school and town, I had the rest of week off from teaching because all the junior high students were going camping, so I took Dave to see the north. We spent (a lot of time on a bus and) one night in Chiang Rai, mostly because I wanted to see the White Temple, a masterpiece in the making. It was probably a poor choice for Dave’s first temple, as this is the most un-Thai un-Buddhist temple ever. The entire temple is obnoxiously bright white, with an entrance over a moat of reaching hands, supposedly symbolizing desire, but feels more like they’re reaching up from hell. Then you walk into the temple, which is still only half way painted. The main wall is covered with modern scenes that represent rebirth. The collection of images is so odd: I spotted Spiderman, planes crashing into the twin towers, Avatar, and Neo from the Matrix.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjGJNsZKG2Zf-0nw_gZUiFuV5MZf_vhMu8rqq3AXxHmy88jYywuFGXIlgjiA5uU-8Fe5y969-8PwwteN0c2Etpj3cu2LkcO6VhSx8GO9fxGdfzlxjvdoFc4j2lEqPCiw6hoQO2BlLJvo/s1600/DSC02898.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjGJNsZKG2Zf-0nw_gZUiFuV5MZf_vhMu8rqq3AXxHmy88jYywuFGXIlgjiA5uU-8Fe5y969-8PwwteN0c2Etpj3cu2LkcO6VhSx8GO9fxGdfzlxjvdoFc4j2lEqPCiw6hoQO2BlLJvo/s320/DSC02898.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706450017890282738" /></a><br />So that was probably a waste of time (though I thoroughly enjoyed it) and becoming more and more Thai every day, I continually debated and asked for Dave’s opinion on how to commence our journey. I probably reassessed the next steps every couple of hours. Poor Dave. We decided to go for Chiang Mai, which ended up being the best decision I had made the whole trip. He loved Chiang Mai (who doesn’t really, Chiang Mai really is the bomb) and I have been there just enough times to be able to get around really easily. Though we only had 24 hours until we were going to fly to Bangkok, we certainly made the most of it: Dave got an abbreviated tour of all the best temples in the city, an accidental visit to the three brothers monument (which I made up the history to, but shh don't tell Dave), a taste of Kao Soi (my favorite noodle dish that is supposedly the most delicious in Chiang Mai, where it originated…though I still think it is more delicious in my town), a view of the city from the riverside bar, a visit to Pong and Charin’s restaurant, AND a visit to my favorite sister temples: Wat Doi Suthep and Wat Suan Dok. Whew. Oh and we went shopping. <br /><br />So I think it’s safe to say Dave left happy, and got to see so much of Thailand in less than one week. When I dropped off Dave in Bangkok for his flight to China, it was conveniently the same day as a rugby touch tournament in Bangkok that the team I play with had organized. I got to play a fullllll day of rugby (after having not played in months) and though I was very rusty in the beginning, by the 6th game I was back in the swing of things, exhausted, but played well enough to impress my teammates. They invited me to break the rules and play in a tackle tournament in a couple weeks. But considering I would be the ONLY girl among all mens teams, I think I may just come to watch.<br /><br />Back to Sawankhalok, and finally a full week of teaching. Now that I haven’t seen half of my 9th graders since New Years (no joke), it’s time to start thinking about finals. So what do I test my students on if I haven’t had class with them since midterms? It didn’t help that P’Sonya asked me to attend a conference on Wednesday about teaching English in Thailand. I told her I didn’t want to miss my classes, but she said it’s okay. Just give them a worksheet (which I did, and they didn’t do, haha). So I had to miss my favorite class with my 10th graders. I got a stack of diaries back on Thursday back from my girls, saying “I not happy because I miss teacher Korin” or “I hope Korin has good holiday. I miss study English with her”. This diary project was secretly started not to improve their English, but as an ego boost. Then there are my boys, who don’t really understand the diary thing. While Grace and Pop are drawing me pictures, or even better printing out photos from their weekend and pasting them in their diaries, my boys are standing outside in the rain, “waiting for girlfriends”. I don’t know if they were waiting to find girlfriends, or if they were waiting because their girlfriends were coming. I didn’t ask, I just took that as a sign I should walk away so teacher Korin doesn’t cramp their style.<br /><br />After so much travel over the past few weekends, all I really wanted this weekend was to stay home and sleep. But I did the exact opposite. For some reason I was the only teacher P’Sonya deemed available to take Tide and one of my students, Pleng, to a spelling bee, in BANGKOK. Ugh. And it really would not have been bad at all, if Tide hadn’t been at soldier camp all week. So he hadn’t slept all week, didn’t have a cell phone, and didn’t know what time he would be getting back to Sawankhalok on Friday. He finally got back at 6 in the evening, leaving us to arrive in Bangkok at 2:30 in the morning. I felt so bad for Tide. Then with four hours of sleep, they had to compete in the morning. There were 200 hundred students at the competition, most from private or special English schools. We were the only school from Sukhothai province, so that was exciting. But they only took 50 students from the first round, and we didn’t make it. I thought Tide would have made it, I have definitely seen him spell some of the words they announced. But neither of them wanted to move on to the next round, and I didn’t really want to either. We all just wanted to go get ice cream. I told Tide, if we don’t make it past the first round, we’re getting ice cream. And he said, okay...let’s go now. So we were all secretly happy (or not so secretly actually) that they didn't make it past the first round, and we headed to the nearest Swensons for chocolate ice cream.<br /><br />After two solid days of being in that van getting to Bangkok and back, I had to wake up early on Sunday to go a wedding. Kai-au’s sister, who I have met on several occasions was getting married. I think the wedding would have been a lot more exciting if I wasn’t so darn tired. I had used up all my excitement cheering on Tide and Pleng in Bangkok. But of course it is always so great to see Kai-au’s family. I got to the hotel early in the morning for the offerings to the monks. Mint (Kaiau’s sister) was dressed in traditional Sukhothai fabrics, and took part in the food offering ceremonies. After the monks ate and finished their portion of the ceremony, everyone formed a line to pour water onto the hands of the bride and groom. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfSWPB-V8O75PG9MEwQyykuN8D7VW3GJEPxQhSrDBqmtiTQobjlJX5UlU7-h94sPioD4Bssv5ikpU4v8Ke9FUMijpt5eAHenyMhfouDHU03TztnyQcS4zoeer5CSoyvYv_DbvjIGsjnc/s1600/DSC02952.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfSWPB-V8O75PG9MEwQyykuN8D7VW3GJEPxQhSrDBqmtiTQobjlJX5UlU7-h94sPioD4Bssv5ikpU4v8Ke9FUMijpt5eAHenyMhfouDHU03TztnyQcS4zoeer5CSoyvYv_DbvjIGsjnc/s320/DSC02952.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706451172324048450" /></a><br /><br />Then there was a lot of picture taking before they changed into western style wedding attire. Then they continued the ceremony in a mix of western traditions mixed with a talk show style presentation. It was strange. But Mint looked fantastic, and I absolutely love her husband. And Kaiau dressed in a bright purple sequence dress. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Mb0sRNG1T0PpWQ9b-bni266vkLyP0yapC_cgCx0V5qyJfZfK4ef3N5LNdxxS3kJbTn6RwelHEkxYzrGk4g6AosRgLJrFsw57A2GD9JLgxcG2D-_doLU7qQkxLZqM2p0OkfkaJjRqKFQ/s1600/DSC02973.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Mb0sRNG1T0PpWQ9b-bni266vkLyP0yapC_cgCx0V5qyJfZfK4ef3N5LNdxxS3kJbTn6RwelHEkxYzrGk4g6AosRgLJrFsw57A2GD9JLgxcG2D-_doLU7qQkxLZqM2p0OkfkaJjRqKFQ/s320/DSC02973.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706451162275655682" /></a><br /><br />Freakin love her. Though I was exhausted, it was still an exciting event.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-26802297144359952392012-01-18T19:35:00.000-08:002012-01-19T05:59:41.080-08:00the Fralang in townI’ve decided (multiple times) that Sawankaholok is the perfect size for me. Since we sit between two large, but less frequented, historical parks, we get a decent share of foreigners- maybe one or two a month. That’s great for me, because I am not the ONLY fralang everyone has ever seen, but I get to play THE fralang in town, when I chose too. When I want a night to myself, I can easily stay home and no one will bother me- except my neighbors. But that is always always welcome. (One night when I went to their house for dinner, their friend called and asked what they were doing. They were so excited to say "speaking English yuu" and put me on the phone to say hello). And when I want to be social, I can just bike to the night market, and it will take me at least 40 minutes to get one thing-because I make multiple stops and talk to all of my “friends”. And I am slowly (or not so slowly really) becoming everyone’s English teacher. Really. Everyone. Even on nights when I have dinner at home or have eaten already, I sometimes go to the night market to visit the woman that makes rice porridge. Her face lights up every time I come by, and she practices over and over again "Hello, how do you do? I'm good, thanksssss. What do you want to eat? Korin very pretty!" (I swear, she asks me how to say these things, I didn't just teach her that last one for fun). And every time I visit and don't get a bowl of soup, she sends me home with a little mini-sized bag of rice soup!<br /><br />And really, where else but in Sawankhalok can I put together so many pieces of my childhood? I’ve been able to play soccer with my students, while teaching other students how to dance ballet. And then have delicious Thai food three times a day! Am I really being paid to live here?! I just need my family here, and my life would be complete! (and maybe some pets- I really want a Beta fish…)<br /><br />Last weekend, I took my second trip to Lampang in one week, when the teachers all went for a retirement party. It wasn’t anything special, except for the eight hour bus ride there (Lampang is only two, maybe three hours away), with a stop at the MeMo power plant on the way. This was my favorite part of the trip because it explained how the natural resources in this region (coal) will run out in the next twenty years. They didn’t elaborate on what they plan to do when that happens, but they did elaborate on the multiple districts that rely on MeMo’s coal power plant. Oh, and did you know that this part of Thailand borders a tectonic plate? I certainly did not. And that may or may not be the reason there is an extinct volcano somewhere in Lampang and/or the reason for the hot springs in Jaeson, our next destination. <br /><br />But by the time we got to the fabulous hot springs park (that I had just explored with Sarah earlier in the week), it was already dark. And since we would be leaving early in the morning, we basically got to Jaeson, hiked up to our cabins with enough snacks and drinks for a party four times our size, hopped in the hot springs for 10 minutes, then headed to our cabins for the night. Worth the eight hour bus trip? Questionable. But we did have a karaoke party (of course) and lots and lots and lots of snacks. Despite the endless stomachs of my co-teachers, we ended up hiking half of the booze and snacks back down to the bus in the morning, as we hopped aboard for the eight hour trip back. We stopped at a temple, and some European style house/museum, and for food several times, before getting back to Sawankhalok. This was the epitome of a Thai trip: lots of getting off and on the bus, and never really feeling like we have reached a real desintation until we get home. But I did have the most delicious duck noodle soup for lunch on the way back. That was probably the second highlight of the trip.<br /><br />The students started their midterms during the week, which means I had to sign in and be present on campus, but had no classes or official duties other than to entertain myself. Since I had so much free time, P’Sonya assigned me to take some students to an English competition at another school in Pitsanalok. That meant my favorite student that’s not actually my student (Tide!!!) was going to compete, along with some other familiar faces. I coached the spelling bee students all week. We spent almost an hour every day reviewing words before I had my dance rehearsals with Man and Sea (which have been going amazingly, by the way). It was quite a busy week! Even on Thursday morning, as we were on our way to Pitsanalok, I was quizzing them the whole two hour bus ride there. So when we got there, we were surprised (angry) to find out that the competition was for lower lever students, M1-M3 and elementary school students. So the students I had been training (M5 and M6), could not compete. I also had my students from M3 (who I didn’t know were coming until the night before, and I felt bad for never coaching them, as they are actually my students), so they could compete. Oom explained to me that it was our (P’Sonya’s) mistake. No other school made the mistake, P’Sonya just read the sheet wrong. I apologized profusely to the older students that couldn’t compete. I wanted to cry I felt so bad for them. They missed their midterms to be there! One of the girls just whispered, “It’s not your fault. We all know whose fault it is. Ahjan Sonya did this to me last time too”. Apparently this isn’t the first time P’Sonya has sent the wrong students to a competition. She didn’t complain to me, but I could hear in her voice how upset she was about it. But we stayed and let my M3 students compete, while Tide and them went off to study somewhere. Our students did great, considering our buzzer didn’t work for the quiz section, and we were given obnoxiously harder words for the spelling bee than any other school. But we won first place for the spelling bee! (after having to spell cinematic and wholesome…who uses those words?!) and second place for the quiz section. Oom was still appalled at how poorly and unfairly the whole competition was executed, so she announced that we were not staying for the free lunch that the school provided, nor were we going back to Sawananan for the last midterm. We are going shopping at Central. So we got in the van and headed to Central and had McDonalds and Starbucks. Haha.<br /><br />Following all that drama, we had another three day weekend, because Monday the 16th is Teacher’s Day. I decided to stay in town instead of traveling for the three day weekend, because an English teacher told me the football players wanted me to play with them for a tournament on Teachers Day. Up until then, I thought the men that have been playing with us were just random people from the community. It was somewhat relieving to know that I’ve been playing with teachers this whole time. So they recruited me to the team, thinking if they have a farang on their team, they will win (Seriously, that is what the English teacher told me).<br /><br />Up until Teachers’ Day, I actually had a surprisingly eventful weekend. Oom’s parents took Steven and I to Sukhothai city to see an orchid festival on Saturday night. There were hundreds of species of orchids on display, including a competition showcasing orchids from around the world. Some were really strange, some miniature, and others taller than me! After browsing for a few hours, we went to their favorite restaurant for a well-deserved feast: laab, tom yum, grilled chicken, this amazing shrimp yam, mixed vegetables, and a very spicy fish. And yes, we ate it allllll.<br /><br />Then on Sunday, I actually went back to Sukhothai! But this time to the old city. I had run into one of the teachers I play soccer with at the night market, and we started talking about what all people like to talk to me about: how I like Thailand so far. And he told me he wanted to take me and my friends to Sukhothai to see the ancient temples. Well, I don’t have friends, haha, so I made Tara and Be come with me. Be plays soccer too, and knows all the teachers pretty well. So my new teacher friend, Golf, picked the three of us up in the morning and took us to Sukhothai. I realized when I got in his car that this looked oddly like a double date. This is what happens when I pretend I can get by with my Thai and try to arrange things myself with someone who can’t speak English. But I swear, Golf had told me that two other teachers were going to come too, but they didn’t show. (I found out the next day that I was supposed to invite them myself, and they were offended that I didn’t! Woooops) But it turned out to be a really fun day. We rented bikes and wandered around the ancient city. I have been to the ancient city on two occasions, but this was the first time it was at a leisurely pace, and I really got to explore all the temples. I think we all had fun, even Golf who was stuck with three Americans, enjoyed saying things like, “turn left, turn left”, and asked me how to describe everything in English. Once again, always the English teacher. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZz_A_I0nPFKwZqjILLxt1ESbJgO8oXckeRd-OeC7ije0QRA-BnJBaZJWzxPlJPAivhIwxbML9ZLTtgUL_y1j5dEsNOmGx79VXyW8XW8Z9PdCX39ECHxEMRnhwtu4v-iLLZ1liqr9g8k/s1600/DSC03919.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZz_A_I0nPFKwZqjILLxt1ESbJgO8oXckeRd-OeC7ije0QRA-BnJBaZJWzxPlJPAivhIwxbML9ZLTtgUL_y1j5dEsNOmGx79VXyW8XW8Z9PdCX39ECHxEMRnhwtu4v-iLLZ1liqr9g8k/s320/DSC03919.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699187992661428802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGibfplTF7VZg6srcHuT1437Zp5R3Jxik8Du7RQZWcEq0qucrTqo9fqVjyDvvpenon6lQn8wCLIsAS1jLJ_ssNftkTKg9tIgQT4TCGFqC5Z7EinI58nvXGokGRoyV-ygHjgcQBHq4C50Y/s1600/DSC03945.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGibfplTF7VZg6srcHuT1437Zp5R3Jxik8Du7RQZWcEq0qucrTqo9fqVjyDvvpenon6lQn8wCLIsAS1jLJ_ssNftkTKg9tIgQT4TCGFqC5Z7EinI58nvXGokGRoyV-ygHjgcQBHq4C50Y/s320/DSC03945.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699187994498680018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_gEX3jntfc6Frnm5gdRb19UADQqX3xZ5THmKKHJAZigyneWu6EfFiLkfWVpzpg6lsT6E2lpFubfOuzxqr8MeOlnuuHAXXtR_R6Gn0M9uDGcVC9Jy56zkRqR9SftA15pWgFTw65BKPd8/s1600/IMG_3187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_gEX3jntfc6Frnm5gdRb19UADQqX3xZ5THmKKHJAZigyneWu6EfFiLkfWVpzpg6lsT6E2lpFubfOuzxqr8MeOlnuuHAXXtR_R6Gn0M9uDGcVC9Jy56zkRqR9SftA15pWgFTw65BKPd8/s320/IMG_3187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699188013518412242" /></a><br /><br />One funny thing about the park... they were putting up these strange windmill kind of things as we were getting there. We couldn't figure out what the occasion was, but by the time we were leaving the park the central area was covered with these windmill things. And they made the eeriest sound in the wind, it sounded like aliens were coming! It had a really cool effect...but was kind of creepy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCexqzlxU3Hla3VWiJbr0pPNq4SouJeUwtKBBh2bqkQCkCu3UpQKfoPjM2csbNfJ-_q8gw2cbZo_2zlgh519m5nH_NNtCPm-RhdVmsxgbR4TDkVgGULppgDxGoEXftaNUY_aTjRMPUpp4/s1600/IMG_3232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCexqzlxU3Hla3VWiJbr0pPNq4SouJeUwtKBBh2bqkQCkCu3UpQKfoPjM2csbNfJ-_q8gw2cbZo_2zlgh519m5nH_NNtCPm-RhdVmsxgbR4TDkVgGULppgDxGoEXftaNUY_aTjRMPUpp4/s320/IMG_3232.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699189789773532578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6a-57p13-zlQmpte5hDInI9UzWBY3FEUAlF6P5kql1QcI7_s5-4SnTEK13eLW3goYK77oxZJdTIaXAjBaDwdJ7rniy-nNDDqIhEhCf7MLPqzHYarVB9eh9Ihobi9lTVauWGKjlF25rJM/s1600/IMG_3231.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6a-57p13-zlQmpte5hDInI9UzWBY3FEUAlF6P5kql1QcI7_s5-4SnTEK13eLW3goYK77oxZJdTIaXAjBaDwdJ7rniy-nNDDqIhEhCf7MLPqzHYarVB9eh9Ihobi9lTVauWGKjlF25rJM/s320/IMG_3231.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699189789131320466" /></a><br /><br />We concluded our adventure, of course, with a trip to Big C, the department store in Sukhothai. Big C is always a big deal, because they have KFC and Swensons (ice cream). One of my students actually wrote in her journal about how for her birthday her dad took her to Big C. She wrote, “but I have bad news. They sold out of mashed potatoes! So pray for me, that next year for my birthday I will eat mashed potatoes!” I didn’t get the mashed potatoes, but I did have long-anticipated mocha almond fudge ice cream!<br /><br />Teachers’ Day was exactly what a teachers day should be. This is what I was expecting: start playing soccer at 9, like the teachers said, play our three games, if we win, play one more, and be done by noon. This is what happened: <br /><br />So I went to the school where the tournament was being held at 9:15 to an empty football field, then went back again at 10, then again at 10:30, still waiting for people to show up. Finally around 10:45, I got a call from Tara and Be that they were with the other teachers. I met up with them, and they cracked open the whisky. No joke. Be and I were dressed in our sports clothes, ready to play football, and all the other teachers were dressed casually. Were we really going to play football? We spent an hour or two drinking whisky and eating the free food provided by the school, all the while not really sure if we were actually going to play or not. We were given whisky by the regional superintendent, who makes his own whisky. The teachers had a fun time explaining the “infinity” of whisky that he has. Later, the superintendent came over to drink with us, (keep in mind, this is all before noon), and the Takraw coach introduced us to him, as Kru Tara, Kru Be, and Nangfaa (angel). He has given me that nickname. Then he says to the superintendent (and this is in English), “She nangfaa. For me”. Tara and I burst out laughing, and actually laughed about it all day. (When I first met the Takraw coach, he asked me to teach him English. When I agreed, he kept saying a word in Thai I didn't know. He asked one of the students to translate, and the kid blurted out "angel". I had told Tara this story, and we figured it was just a mistranslation, and joked about it. But apparently that really was what he meant to call me!)<br /><br />By 1:00, I wandered towards the football field to see if there was actually anything going on. The Sawananan female teachers spotted me, and dragged me over to play chairball. I hope this sport doesn’t exist outside of Teachers Day because it is really stupid and does not deserve to be a real sport. It’s like basketball, except on a field rather than a court, and you shoot into a basket that a person standing on a chair is holding up. They made me practice with them last week. I figured I’d play with them, since I wasn’t doing anything else, and drinking whisky in the middle of a hot, sunny day before playing a sport quickly lost its appeal. The game nonchalantly started while I was still sitting down putting my shoes on, but they threw me in anyway, just shouting “Not rugby! Not same!” I am pretty sure I won the game for them, which was not surprising considered I was playing with a bunch of older women, the youngest maybe 40 years old. I feel like it was kind of cheating having me on their team. But they kept having me play…all four games.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcgxeMWaey9KDgaPyIj93CNsY6QXXTKOJD4fiHzWnpYp1dC9HSl-1gP9TX7mwKUDy8V01RJlnS5x2Mnoar-tJhVGXRz112xB-tHHjkJSrZt2aj1bCC3IeQ-v2detWiMueAjYdAEL-J3A/s1600/IMG_3254.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcgxeMWaey9KDgaPyIj93CNsY6QXXTKOJD4fiHzWnpYp1dC9HSl-1gP9TX7mwKUDy8V01RJlnS5x2Mnoar-tJhVGXRz112xB-tHHjkJSrZt2aj1bCC3IeQ-v2detWiMueAjYdAEL-J3A/s320/IMG_3254.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699188018350878162" /></a><br /> We ended up winning the championship, though the last team we played was pretty good. My team wanted me to cover the other team’s best player, while playing forward center- which meant I had to sprint across the field every time there was a change of possession. But it worked- we won. Meanwhile, the boys finally started to play football. Their game started during a chairball match, so I could only play with them for the last five minutes of a game there was no way they could recover from. And that was it! They lost the one game and couldn’t play again! I would say that they lost because they were taking shots of whisky up until the game, but my chairball team was drinking beer between games too. I wonder what Teacher’s Day in America would be like.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-62518946338031702772012-01-06T08:07:00.000-08:002012-01-06T08:31:58.326-08:00Festivities to Welcome a New YearSo two weeks ago I had Man in my 11th grade class who copied word for word from another students journal. Okay, well in the same class, I have one student who always writes extremely well. I was reading over the journals this week, and I came across hers and I wanted to cry because it was so cute! I started reading it to Steven, and three sentences in he says "its from the internet". I ignored his pessimism, and kept reading, thinking that he didn't know what he was talking about. I got to the second paragraph, and I realized there was no way she really could have written it...so I reluctantly followed Steven's advice and typed it into google. She totally copied it! So I made a big deal about it in the office, saying how disappointed I am in Pair, she always writes so well. And then!! This is the best part. I write a big zero on it, and put her notebook aside, and out falls a piece of folded paper! I open it, and it was the quote she found online, printed out. Can you believe it?! Haha, Steven and I died laughing. And she didn't even copy it down correctly. She wrote "even" instead of "eve". Too funny. So I stapled the print-out in her notebook. Oom says copying is in their genes. I am starting to believe it.<br /><br />I’ve spent an exceptional amount of time with my neighbors this week, possibly due to so many random cancellations of things around town, like aerobics, any sort of after school sports, and well, school itself. They discovered my newfound love for Takraw, and I was excited to learn that the guys play every day after work. We finally found a day I could join them to play. We got to the court, but unfortunately no other people came because everyone is off doing New Years preparations or traveling. So the four of us played badminton until it was too dark to see. They picked up some fallen coconuts on the way home, and cracked one open for me. After cleaning up a bit, we headed to dinner at the night market. I had had a delicious dinner the night before at their house that the wife, Waen, made. I can’t name anything, but there was a dish with barbeque pork, some raw shrimp to dip in a green chili sauce, and something really really spicy. The food from the night market doesn’t stand a chance to Waen’s cooking, but it's a treat spending time with them anyway. Then they took me to play snooker- a Thai billiard’s game. The rules and the balls are different, though not confusing. I really don’t like this game. My score at the first game was minus 11, and I topped that the next round with a score of minus 17. Too bad it’s not golf. But I was happy to be part of their evening adventures.<br /><br />Even though I spent the same hours on campus last week as a “normal” school week, I taught 4 ½ of my 12 classes. And oddly, I still felt really busy. There was a lot of running around preparing for New Years. Every class at the school had to prepare a table to sell something for the New Years festival on campus, even the 7th graders! They had to sell something to make back their money and some profit, with pretty much no money from the school to help. A good exercise in entrepreneurship…as well as child labor to make money for the school. Some were really great- my 11th graders grilled their own banana bread snacks, and my 9th graders made coconut ice cream. The best was the lowest section of 12th graders, Mattyom 6/9. These kids stopped caring about school a long time ago. We walked past their empty table, and burst out laughing at their sign: “M6/9??” How perfect. P’Sonya teaches this class, and in the beginning of the semester there were a good 15 students that came to class. I peak in now when I teach after her, and there is an average of 3 students that now show up. I’m sooo glad I don’t have to teach Mattyom 6.<br /><br />But I do love hanging out with them. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SwQMy1vs269v8sKJaHSaw9TAc34GRBV0LBMUKbUEwIlPDcvbUES-VcRzWpPip_mw9JEFuG1YOFIkhTQyA2_sqqGfv7V9I4DDvoZ3o2cNfnwbLkOeMvK06GjoB4JygZUZSyy7G5ULpow/s1600/M6_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SwQMy1vs269v8sKJaHSaw9TAc34GRBV0LBMUKbUEwIlPDcvbUES-VcRzWpPip_mw9JEFuG1YOFIkhTQyA2_sqqGfv7V9I4DDvoZ3o2cNfnwbLkOeMvK06GjoB4JygZUZSyy7G5ULpow/s320/M6_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694556050106881650" /></a><br />I spent Friday (the day before New Years Eve) bouncing between my 9th and my 11th graders and my neighbors, then New Years Eve I pretended I was in M6/1 all night. And I found out, Tide can dance! And he can dance really well. After his routine in “Sawananan’s Got Talent”, I was having dinner with all the M6/1’s. Tide came over, and asked, “Teacher, awesome mai?” But he said “awesome” in a Thai accent, so I actually had no idea what he was asking me. I had to ask Gafae what he was saying. It took the third time for me to hear “awesome”. Poor kids can’t win with me, I can’t understand when they talk to me in Thai or in English!<br /><br />I watched the high school bands and talent show performances all night, and stayed at school till midnight. I did countdown with M6 kids (though countdown was at 11:52, instead of midnight. Why of all things in Thailand is this the only thing that has been early?), and we set off sparklers together, released a candle lantern, and took many many (many many many) pictures!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5Anmd6FDDDOcvi2rjbAnuakDbk-Vk2YPyosUTEhLWk4xkgByqnQ8TVABhmkXh88IJEAWoSrzaqTYEYVliQVLlhEGxSQv1SyXmlSVi9ali4v1DHmTou4jT_KMfK9QNOxJGiPoWiItciI/s1600/candle+lantern+M6-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5Anmd6FDDDOcvi2rjbAnuakDbk-Vk2YPyosUTEhLWk4xkgByqnQ8TVABhmkXh88IJEAWoSrzaqTYEYVliQVLlhEGxSQv1SyXmlSVi9ali4v1DHmTou4jT_KMfK9QNOxJGiPoWiItciI/s320/candle+lantern+M6-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694556053177425394" /></a><br /><br /> We even had a semi-impressive fireworks display, set off from different parts of campus. I loved watching the bands play- because it made me feel like I was in high school. As I was leaving on Friday night, I ran into one of my troublemakers, who yelled “Hello teacher!!!!” as he ran to join the mosh pit in front of the stage. And I am pretty sure right then I witnessed Thailand’s version of ska, and it was great. Ah, it made me miss Kate Tomaskovic so much!!!<br /><br />On New Years morning, I joined my new adopted family to “make merit” as they kept calling it. They explained that on New Years morning, you should “make merit” to the monks, and invited for me to join. I anticipated that we were going to a temple, but as with many experiences with Kai-au’s family, it was a day of unexpected events. They picked me up early, and took me to Kaiau’s grandfather’s house where there was enough food out for 100 people. Her mother was already there, putting out dozens of plates of food. I didn’t know who the food was for, but I helped put out six servings of each of the 8 courses onto a mat. By the way, one serving was like 12 satay sticks, or a whole fish with two boiled eggs… basically more food than one person could eat in a week, I think. And there was pleeeeenty left over. Some of the other courses were chicken soup, chicken yam, pickled cabbage, coconut custard, and lots of rice. When I ran out of things to do and questions to ask in Thai, I kept myself amused by making each plate’s fish face the same way, with hard boiled eggs making the same shape around the fin, and the cucumber salad and peanut sauce on the correct sides of the satay. Hehe. It was a very aesthetically pleasing display in the end. And it kept our guests entertained. Sometimes I like to blend in, but sometimes its fun to be “the fralang”, that does fralangy things. <br /><br />So by 10 AM or so, many members from Kaiau’s family had shown up, maybe about 25 all together. I respectfully said hello to everyone that came in, then continued my business of lining plates with painful precision. When they heard Kaiau and I speaking in English, she told me her family was confused because they thought I was Thai! And they didn’t know what mysterious language we were speaking. Haha. I must be getting some sun here to be mistaken as Thai =) Though I didn’t quite sneak by the monks without being noticed straightaway as a fralang. At around 11, the monks arrived (another surprise!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN6UoiY64AmYhc5mrHmvZvqjKRlKulGFU3BIpOCOAFc196D-h6Mw-0fea69ZyC8lawQ5Zonb3fUHVGypsUg-FoN9Z58fCDWw4TiYAr16rB1kly-B83qekWrVBzY3eJaROMHzJxUpvvb0/s1600/SAM_4112.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN6UoiY64AmYhc5mrHmvZvqjKRlKulGFU3BIpOCOAFc196D-h6Mw-0fea69ZyC8lawQ5Zonb3fUHVGypsUg-FoN9Z58fCDWw4TiYAr16rB1kly-B83qekWrVBzY3eJaROMHzJxUpvvb0/s320/SAM_4112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694556057396053714" /></a><br /> There were 11 of them, and they sat down and started to chant. I recognized some of the chants from the morning announcements that the students do every morning, but that didn’t help me gain a clue in what was going on. Regardless it was enchanting listening to their echoing chants. One monk came in with a goofy look on his face, obviously late for the offering, and then took over the chanting once he got settled in. We then interrupted my perfectly lined plates to bring the food over to where the monks were sitting, and watched and waited while they ate, as is the standard procedure when you present an offering. Monks, by the way, cannot eat after noon, so these offerings must happen in the morning. Once they had eaten maybe a quarter or less of the food that we had given them, we gathered their plates. Since women cannot touch monks, I stayed in the background taking the plates back to where the rest of the food was, keeping my distance from the monks. Then the one monk that came in late spotted me! And gasped, “fralang!”, to which all the other monks chorused “pasa angrit, pasa angrit” (English, English). The head monk then asked me where I came from, and if I like basketball. From then on, I was the center of his attention. When he came to splash holy water on us, he giggled before he splashed me, muttering something about fralang. Then as he was finishing up, and the monks were getting ready to leave, he came over to me and said, “I am a monk. Not monkey!” I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever heard, but maybe that’s because I was overcome by his awesomeness, and everything that he said to me I thought was hilarious. Once the monks left, we were able to make a small dent in the food that remained. Kaiau’s family slowly trickled out, and we were left with the piles of dishes. We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned, then napped. =)<br /><br />Sadly, that was the last time I’ll be able to hang out with Kaiau’s family for a while because she had to go back to Bangkok to start school. I think meeting Kaiau is the coolest thing that has happened since I’ve been in Sawankhalok, and it’s fortunate I think for both of us that the flood closed her school for two months (well not so fortunate now that she is back at school and has to make up all the work!) But I have noticed an amazing improvement in her English from talking to me every night, and she gave me a family =) as well as drilled me with Thai vocabulary. She’s only been gone a few days now, and I already miss her terribly!<br /><br />With my two extra days off from school this week, I decided to sneak up to Lampang to visit my friend Sarah. I really just wanted to go on an adventure on my own. It sounded really exciting to get on a bus by myself and go somewhere. Well, it stopped being exciting the second I stepped onto the overcrowded bus and had to stand for the first hour of the trip, and share a two-seater with two large people for the remaining three hours. But it was well worth the trip to see Sarah. We didn’t do much. She showed me around her school, and her beautiful house that I am uber jealous of, and we had mango somtam and talked for hoursssss. The next day, her host teacher, or rather her host mother, took us to a hot springs park about two hours away. I will talk more about the park next week, as I will incidentally be visiting the same park with the English department this upcoming weekend, and will hopefully get a better idea of how there could possibly be a geothermal hotspot in the middle of Thailand. After the two hour windy drive there, then back, I was really not looking forward to standing on another 4 hour bus ride back to Sawankhalok. I reluctantly waited at the crowded bus station, and rushed to be the first on my bus when it arrived (and when I say I rushed, I really mean Sarah’s host mom pushed me to the front through the crowd of people glaring at the fralang so that I would get a seat). In the rush of things, I noticed that my bus wasn’t purple like the one I took from Sawankhalok, but did say Sukhothai on it….well no time to worry about it, because the bus was already leaving- and I had a window seat! And no one sat next to me! I was amazed at how uncrowded the bus was, and had an uninterrupted ride home. Some of this uninterrupted time was spent in paranoia, telling myself I had probably gotten on the wrong bus for it to be so empty, and I would have to end up calling my cousin Muak in Sukhothai to crash on his smelly couch for the night. But things were going my way that day, and I made it to Sawankhalok, piece of cake, and caught a motorcycle taxi home. It must have been from all the merit I had made on New Years Day.<br /><br />Now back to school. My task for the upcoming week: Man, my 11th grader that copies and cannot speak English has volunteered himself and the laziest/smartest girl in the class to be victim of my dance classes that I will be starting next week, that will culminate in a performance in front of the school on Valentine’s Day. You should witness the conversations I am trying to have with Man, discussing the music, the dance, and when we will meet up. These rehearsals are going to be great.Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7939880834338354695.post-32629337508017359252011-12-26T08:55:00.000-08:002011-12-27T06:17:25.941-08:00A Merry Christmas in Thailand!Though most days I am very happy with the English level of my students, there are some days I walk out of the classroom (or away from Takraw practice) and wonder what in the world they have been learning all these years. Most of the boys I play Takraw with don’t say anything in English, except “good!!” every time I return the ball, and “bad!!!” every time someone else touches the ball. Except for one day, where the potentially creepy coach told me he is also a swimmer, in addition to being the Takraw coach and Thai kickboxing coach. He asked if I wanted to go swimming, and was trying to ask me what the word for “swimsuit” was in English. I think this is what was happening- it was all in Thai so I am never really sure. Then one of the students yelled from across the court, “do you have a one piece or two piece?” How can they not respond to me when I ask how many years they have been playing Takraw, but they know one piece or two piece swimsuits? Silly boys. <br /><br />Even my 11th graders are sometimes questionable, even though they may be the smartest high schoolers in a three district radius. “Man” is one of the lady boys in my class that has never been able to answer a question in English, and when I have asked him to read his work aloud, he just comes to the front of class and holds my hand and says “I love teacher. My teacher, my friend”, then sits back down. So he has yet to hand in a homework assignment to me. He finally handed in a journal assignment last week, which was the replica of the student’s assignment on top of his, except he changed “Uttaradit” to “Chiang Mai”. I gave them both zero’s, and handed their journals back this week. Meen, one of the better students in class, completely broke down. She came to my office with the translator in the class, i.e., the only girl in the class that is courageous enough to carry a conversation in English with me, and told me she didn’t know he copied. The next class, Man handed me a not that said, <br /><br />“I'm sorry teacher<br />Next, I will not do it<br />If teachers will deduct points<br />Let me break points alone.<br />She did not know”<br /><br />First of all, this was the most English he has written all class. And secondly, I thought this was the cutest thing ever, and I felt so bad for him. I told him I would give him a zero for this one, but he can make up the rest for half credit. I’m pretty sure he didn’t understand, and probably won’t make up his late homework anyway, but he was so happy and just said “thank you teacher” three times before retreating.<br /><br />There are several other students like Man in my other 11th grade class. I try to help them as much as I can, as the rest of the class sprints through every essay assignment I give them. One particularly bad student’s nickname is Bomb. He would be a student that could easily be overlooked in any class because he hangs out with the students that don’t do well, doesn’t participate in class, writes boring essays, and doesn’t have a funny haircut. The only reason he stands out to me is because of his nickname. I totally don’t mean to do it, but every time I take attendance, or force his participation, I always shout his name, and make an exploding motion with my hands. It just happens automatically. The funny thing is, I don’t think he notices, and the poor kid will always get so much more attention from me than his friends because he has a goofy nickname.<br /><br />And then there are my genius 9th graders that can speak and write better than my smartest 11th graders. For two weeks leading up to Christmas, I have been working on a Christmas “show” with my best 9th grade class. I don’t really know how or why this started, but our department wanted to do something for Christmas. All my students wanted to do is sing, but I somehow convinced them that a dance and a play should accompany the song. So I took Oom’s class time with them and rehearsed “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”, which they knew better than me anyway, and we had quite an act going. I really didn’t do anything. They came up with everything on their own, I just got their costumes together. So Friday finally came and we had a half hour to give our school Christmas. I didn’t realize that they idea originally was to have one of the Japanese, one of the Chinese and one of the English classes sing “Jingle Bells” in their respective language. This became evident after the Japanese and the Chinese class went and sang Jingle Bells, and then my class of 15 year old geniuses blew everyone out of the water with a full on Rudolph and Santa musical. We performed during the morning announcements (and of course into first period, during which I was supposed to give a midterm. Christmas is more important anyway), and Steven and I got to host the whole thing in English to the confused student body. We even had some Christmas trivia, and gave out folders as prizes, though all the students that answered were either mine or his students. Our show ended with a real, live Santa. Be and Tara dressed up like Mr. and Mrs. Claus and rode in on their scooter with bags of candy that they threw to the kids. It was kind of awesome. I never really get into the Christmas thing, but this was too much fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3I76H-_ItKR6ieNclWvaBRyLBNAA2Z6xW4uHHopVONwjMHl5zVMafCj-73zhOVzLOLfYJR8tLmIx9vmS2_RAu46-j70Lr0H_CsYl_X4O3_GxTeQlISodmG1CHtrZRLW4MIJ1KGbY6_Rw/s1600/3_1+Christmas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3I76H-_ItKR6ieNclWvaBRyLBNAA2Z6xW4uHHopVONwjMHl5zVMafCj-73zhOVzLOLfYJR8tLmIx9vmS2_RAu46-j70Lr0H_CsYl_X4O3_GxTeQlISodmG1CHtrZRLW4MIJ1KGbY6_Rw/s320/3_1+Christmas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690811015598526578" /></a><br /><br />For Christmas this year, I kind of received a family. Over the past three weeks, Kaiau’s family has swiftly adopted me into their family. It started when I went to Kaiau’s grandfather’s house for the day a few weekends ago. I thought we were just going over for lunch, or to hang out, but apparently there was more planned than that. Kaiau can speak English fairly well, as well as her father and sister, but her mother doesn’t speak a word of English. So the whole day just ended up being a bunch of surprises, and I just followed whoever told me where to go next. Kaiau’s mother wanted to take me to the Sukhothai Historical Park, where I had gone for Loi Krathong. The park is huge, and will require several visits, so I was excited to see more of it. After some amazing Sukhothai noodles for lunch, we were on our way to the park when Kaiau’s mother remembered she had a funeral to go to that afternoon. I thought we were on our way back to her grandfather’s house, but we ended up going to the park anyway, with countless apologies from Kaiau’s mom that we didn’t have enough time to enjoy the park. We only drove through the park anyway, not because of lack of time, but because it was too hot to be out of air conditioning. Haha. So I had a lovely tour of the park from inside the car before we headed back towards her grandfather’s.<br /><br />We hung out there for the afternoon, took a long nap, had some snacks, then ended up helping cook dinner. We made steamed fish stuffed with pork and vegetables, and it totally put my Gaeng Som from the night before to shame! We brought dinner up to the balcony, and ate under the stars. It was actually very cold out that night, but the freshly steamed fish kept us somewhat warm, though we quickly packed up everything after dinner and went back inside!<br /><br />The next weekend, Kaiau’s mom wanted to take us to the Si Satchanalai Historical Park. This park is thirty minutes in the opposite direction from the Sukhothai Historical Park, and is another place I would like to visit a few times while I am here. It has many temples from the same time period, about 700 years ago, but has many less visitors. I love these temples because they have very much remained untouched. Though the grounds between the temples are well maintained, the temples themselves have had, I believe, no renovation work. We climbed up a set of scarily steep stairs to the top of one of the temples, where we were met by an old beggar that gave us very rare stones carved into a Buddha figure. Kaiau knew why the stones were rare, but could not describe it to me, even with her new Thai-English dictionary constantly open. She doesn’t even look up when she is walking anymore, she is constantly just looking in her dictionary, and trying out a new word…that usually doesn’t make sense.<br /><br />Needless to say, Kaiau has become my best friend here, and if I am not at school, 80% of the time I am with her. On Wednesday, Kai-u texted me and said that she couldn’t meet me for aerobics because she was going to a dog and monkey show. I didn’t even ask. Well, I didn’t have to, because she later called me and asked if I could go with her because she didn’t want to go by herself. I thought it’d be worth the experience. So we showed up at the temple surrounded by, no joke, a ton of brathom kids in their pajamas. And we settled down next a family, and enjoyed the show. I really think they call it a dog and monkey show to attract people; it is really a dog a show, with some people magic. The monkey took up maybe two minutes of the two hour show, and his tricks were lame. The opening magic show was really cool, and then the dogs performed for over an hour, and were great! Mostly due to the narration, and one fat dog that was always falling behind the other dogs.<br /><br />Then came Christmas weekend. Kaiau’s family wanted to a do a variety of things, like camping in Chiang Rai, shopping on the Burmese border, go to the Night Safari, and the flower show in Chiang Mai. The plan changed at least once a day for the two weeks leading up to the trip, but ended up being a much more abbreviated adventure than their original plans. I was just happy to be part of it. It was really exciting to have a family for Christmas, even though they kept forgetting it was Christmas, and really had no intention of taking me on this trip because it was Christmas, but just because it coincided with Kaiau’s brother coming home and they wanted a family vacation. <br /><br />We left for Lampang early on Saturday morning, and visited a gorgeous 400 year old temple and took many many many family photos. Kaiau’s brother told me about the history of them temple, and the religious reasons for many of the rituals. This must have been the first time I have gone to a temple in Thailand with a Thai person that speaks English well, because I have never really gotten any explanation for anything. I think that includes P’Muak as well, he didn’t really tell me anything about what we were doing when he took me to a shrine in Sukhothai. It is nice to know what I should be praying for, why I am supposed to walk around the chedi three times, and why I light candles and incense. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi7kLrImctx9oPvqWpYiDdbKEmtWbbdRT6xrrg7un9XkAT25m3tMP66aZwzyswDdhMDVfIl48pRaCGPFKSu4G_zglupkKpcv5ipPTuGeIVPh2sYfeqp7x97u0YtO8_B6TBgNrWLRUOwA/s1600/chiangmai1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi7kLrImctx9oPvqWpYiDdbKEmtWbbdRT6xrrg7un9XkAT25m3tMP66aZwzyswDdhMDVfIl48pRaCGPFKSu4G_zglupkKpcv5ipPTuGeIVPh2sYfeqp7x97u0YtO8_B6TBgNrWLRUOwA/s320/chiangmai1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690810997168078354" /></a><br />After the temple and adjoining market, we continued our journey to Chiang Mai. I still wasn’t sure what the agenda was, but I think Kaiau didn’t know either. I don’t think anyone did. And I wonder if it took us so long to get to Chiang Mai because they were still deciding where to go. I love this family.<br /><br />We had lunch (Lanna style Som tam and Gai yang, so delicious!!!) and made many stops to go shopping. Many many stops. I was never exactly sure where we were, and there were only certain parts of Chiang Mai that I recognized from previous visits, but we stopped at some of the most amazing stores that had beautiful antiques for incredibly cheap. Kaiau’s mother loves antiques. Loves, loves, loves them. It made me want to live in Thailand, so I can collect all these beautiful works and not have to pay a million dollars in shipping. Finally we ended up at the Royal Flora Festival; Chiang Mai’s annual flower exhibition that lasts three months. I wonder why they don't just make it a permanent exhibition, but I think its because it takes the remaining 9 months to put it together. It is nothing like Philly’s flower show, maybe because of its massive scale and being outdoors. It is about the size of an amusement park, and has an international section, a kid’s section, a greenhouse section, a royal something section, and many things in between that I am sure I missed. Trying to conquer it in a few hours was a mistake. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NQZh-p-ddJ13A3OzaoWov3wzgDFnfwMiSxqjG-Gkx8qIHs3JfiQMZRqGuwiCSZgHypn-FbY5J8aQ00Kd4e-97EEdSSijJlrjq-oDoRQ6lqaPyXTueFKaV-Rkm1D42k-blYGO6gYSMu8/s1600/chiangmai2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NQZh-p-ddJ13A3OzaoWov3wzgDFnfwMiSxqjG-Gkx8qIHs3JfiQMZRqGuwiCSZgHypn-FbY5J8aQ00Kd4e-97EEdSSijJlrjq-oDoRQ6lqaPyXTueFKaV-Rkm1D42k-blYGO6gYSMu8/s320/chiangmai2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690810997079695826" /></a><br />Kaiau was so disheartened because by the time we got there, it was going to be too dark soon. And as soon as we entered, we learned there was a famous person somewhere in the park. It was the crowned prince’s wife and son. Kaiau was so excited to hear this, and we had to stop and wait to see her pass. We sat for half an hour outside of an exhibit, with hundreds of other people, waiting for her to exit and drive past. After half an hour, Kaiau was getting worried that it would get too dark to take pictures, so we left just as the prince’s wife was exiting the exhibition. The rest of the flower exhibition was really interesting, though we literally sprinted through it, Kaiau continuously depressed that the pictures came out too blurry. At every exhibit, she let out a deep sigh and apologized that we couldn’t take better pictures. As we were trying to see the last of it before the park closed, we were met by a security guard that whispered that the prince’s wife will be passing. So we stopped in out tracks and waited as her trolley approached. We didn’t have to wait a half hour this time, and we weren’t surrounded with hundreds of people like last time, as there were only a few people around the area at this point. Her barrage of police passed first, then three trams full of ordinary looking people passed, followed by more police. I was all ready to curtsy as she passed, but I couldn’t even find her! She had passed without me even knowing! And I was busy scanning the passing vehicles that I didn’t even notice Kaiau curtsying as the first tram passed that had contained the prince’s wife.<br /><br />We concluded our day at the Chiang Mai walking street, so Kaiau’s mom could do some more shopping, and I got to eat Okonomiyaki- one of my favorite Japanese street foods I haven’t really had since Japan. Yum yum! And I got to embarrass Kaiau by ordering ice cream that I didn’t really want because she thought the guy selling it was cute. Of course she was too shy to talk to him, but was delighted when their hands touched as she took the cup of ice cream from him. We finally went back to the hotel, completely exhausted! It was a very long day. Kaiau turned on the TV, and Center Stage was on! A movie about dancing my sister and I used to watch over and over when we were kids. I was so excited!! I hadn’t seen the movie in so many years, and it made me miss dancing and my sister so much! Kaiau thought it was really weird that I didn’t shower that night, but I couldn’t when Center Stage was on! That was better than watching A Christmas Story over and over on Christmas Eve.<br /><br />We woke up on Christmas Day with about as much of a plan as we had the night before. I gave Kaiau’s family Christmas cards, then we embarked on our day of aimless driving and seeming confusion. We ended up going to the Queen Sirikit Botanical Gardens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1KNzVPpRlQhHe5pO7Lmo3mv4ysFDqE9idS-Sbg6mi1ZWwtasaMwXpvxihGPA9b2OBRoE1_jF0PaPk0NYA8xsg34-7Yn8T4x-zd17btwJFPqJHrRP2pmk79oGC4RaffgwUJIxukeME7g/s1600/chiangmai3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1KNzVPpRlQhHe5pO7Lmo3mv4ysFDqE9idS-Sbg6mi1ZWwtasaMwXpvxihGPA9b2OBRoE1_jF0PaPk0NYA8xsg34-7Yn8T4x-zd17btwJFPqJHrRP2pmk79oGC4RaffgwUJIxukeME7g/s320/chiangmai3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690811005366466498" /></a><br /> You would think we would be sick of flowers, but it was actually really cool to see the gardens after going to the flower show the day before. The botanical gardens were obviously a lot less crowded, and the exhibits were a lot more natural. There were beautiful displays occupying a series of greenhouses, including a lily pad greenhouse. We spent the afternoon downtown by the flower market, actually close to where Pong and Charin live. We got some of Chaing Mai’s famous sausage, and had a delicious lunch of sausage, sticky rice and fried pork.<br /><br />Its kind of funny, for how many times I’ve been to Chiang Mai, I still haven’t had Kao Soy, a curry based noodle dish that originated in Chiang Mai. My students rave about it, but I have yet to try it in Chiang Mai, even though Kao Soy stole my heart away the day I stepped into Sawankhalok, and I have yet to recover from it. (Though unripe mango with chili peppers is slowly taking over Kao Soy’s place in my heart). Well, funny enough, when we got back into Sawankhalok that night, we went to the night market and sure enough, I had a bowl of Kao Soy. And I bet the day I finally have Kao Soy in Chiang Mai, it won’t be delicious as my Kao Soy in Sawankhalok.<br /><br />Even just leaving for a couple days, it always feels to come back home to Sawankhalok. I had an amazing moment this week with my neighbors. I think Waen, the wife, originally wanted me to have dinner with them, but I got home too late to join them. So she saved a bowl especially for me, and I had a full conversation with them about going to play Takraw with them, and what I was doing this weekend. I was so excited at that moment, and I wanted to call Steven or email Dave or call my mom to tell someone how awesome my neighbors are, and how it was one of the most exciting accomplishments of my life. But instead I made some rice and had a super delicious curry with lots of chicken body parts. When I came back from Chiang Mai, I gave them some Christmas cards and some popular regional foods I brought back for them. I think they really liked that, and they came home a couple hours later with a Santa Claus to hang in my window. So cute. I love them.<br /><br />I think that is as good as Christmas could possibly be while away from home. Merry Christmas to everyone at home!! Missing you all <3Korinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13433013634294898652noreply@blogger.com0