American Standard my butt.

Nearly all of the toilets here are made by a company called:

AMERICAN STANDARD

Below are a couple pictures of the exclusive "Teachers Only" toilets with the

American Stamp of approval proudly displayed.

American Standard, eh?

I don't EVER remember associating soar hammies with American Standards.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Land of Smiles and lowered American Standards. I hope you all smirk a little bit and think of me the next time you are turning a double play.

I'll be squating and thinking of purple mountains majesty and soaring eagles.

God Bless America.

photos available on line

http://picasaweb.google.com/markus.chisholm/IphotoExportImages486?fgl=true&pli=1#

Sorry for the wait, here's everything. The pics are a bit out of place at times. Do your best. Leave me comments if you need an explanation.

Low on gas.

A funny thing happened when I took the motorcycle to Pua last weekend.

I hung out with my buddy Roman, who lives in the town of Pua. Its a neighboring town 20 minutes north of Tha Wang Pha by automobile. After dinner and hangin out for the night I say good bye and head for TWP. The time is about 11:00pm. I can ride home, and brush my teeth and get to bed by 11:30. Get a solid 7 hours for school the next day.

It wasn't long after I fired the bike up that I had noticed the fuel gauge. Damn near empty. No problem, I think to myself. I'll just fill up at the Shell station that's on the way out of town.

CLOSED.
SHIT.

Now what to do? At this point my gas gauge arrow is perfectly in line with the glowing red "E". With the only known gas station in town closed, and no gas to waste looking for a gas vendor, I pull over and call Roman. It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes since I left his place. He should be able to help me out.

Ring, ring, ring, ring..... notta.

Ok. So I'm out of town, out of gas, my only friend in town is not calling, and I'm a solid 15 minute walk from his house. I park my bike by the 7-11 and walk the street asking anyone around how to find gas. I'm lucky that I had my Thai phrasebook in my side bag that night. I didn't get a straight answer that I understood but I got some people pointing. By following a couple of leads I wound up on the side of the main street opposite of 7-11 by a late night soup vendor. There were 4 guys sitting down, most likely drunk that were inexplicably stoked to see me. "Farang! Come! Come!" They insisted that I sit down and let them feed me and serve me beer. I obliged.

The new plan: Eat, drink, and wait for Roman's phone call. I'll hang out with the townies and inquire about a possible late night gas vendor. A bowl of soup and a can of beer later, the guys walked me over to a Thai lady standing behind a table on the sidewalk about 20 meters away from our table.

To the untrained eye she was selling discounted whiskey bottles. One local explained to me that the little Thai lady was actually selling motorcycle fuel by the bottle. 40 baht per bottle. "Song" I said. She gave me two bottles, and I gleefully poured the whiskey bottles into the tank.

The local time was midnight by the time I had poured the fuel in my bike and headed home. The next day I was exhausted but had a good story to tell, and a new gas station vendor to tell Roman about.

Thank God its Friday!

Yesterday was a day off. I've had two days off so far this week. I love the time off, but I haven't taught my my Friday afternoon class more than once. Which makes me wonder what i might put on their midterm next week. Hmmmm.....

Up til this point I have been unable to successfully upload any pictures. The internet connection, the uploading software, etc. has prevented me from sharing my photos with the outside world. For that I apologise.

This morning I've been grappling with google trying to find an English version of Picasa. No matter what I type in all I get is the Thai version. I'm going to scrap the mission. If anyone out there can go to google, search Picasa, download the free version (I think its 3.6), and send me the program file via email, I could start sharing files. email it to markus.chisholm@gmail.com

News updates:

• Construction updates: The kitchen add-on room is near completion. I'll be cooking stir fries in my wok in no time flat. There is a new road being built connecting my apartment building to the school grounds. Until now its been an uneven, winding dirt road.
• Transportation: Purchased a legitimate motorcycle helmet. Comfy, bright red, visor, air vents. Boo Ya.
• Weekend plans: Attending my first English camp this weekend. I'll be teaching frisbee and kickball to youngens.
• Classroom: Everything is business as usual in the classroom. Continuing to teach to the attentive, and throw out the disruptive. An interesting dichotomy where they don't want to be there, but they don't want to leave. All the while they are a nuisance, distracting those who wish to learn. I found that throwing their backpacks out the door, works; they chase it, getting them out of my class, and I don't have to yell at them in front of the kids. Its a win-win.
• Holidays: I have been told that I'll be acting in a Christmas play in front of the school on x-mas morning. A complete departure from the low key mornings spent with the fam in the living room. Christmas will likely be spent in Thawangpha. Booked a room and a plane ride for my new years plans in Ko Phi Phi (a small island near Phuket).

Calls from the dugout, the King, and a man named Phillip

This post recounts the events leading up to my departure to Chiang Mai last weekend, which also happened to be the King's 82nd birthday.

Wednesday afternoon: fellow teacher and personal Thai translator from whom I get all of my school news from (shes called Kruu Rin, 40 year old Thai lady) casually informed me that my Teach in Thailand program coordinator (Phillip from Bangkok) was coming to evaluate my classes and that he would be arriving on Thursday afternoon- less than 24 hours.

Thursday:

After a couple quick classes and no Phillip, I ask Kruu Rin, “any word?” She said “no new email or phone call from Phillip.” My plan was to do my thing, and if he shows up then he shows up. Before I knew it I had all my classes taught and the day quickly turned to night right around 5:30pm like it always does. Still no sign of Philip. The next hour was spent cleaning my room, polishing my lesson plans, and updating my logbook (Jamie Moyer-like book of details and descriptions on each of my classes) because ya never know what he might ask for. Later that night, about 7:30pm I hear a quiet rapping on my front door and a slightly effeminate American voice accompanying it.

Its Phillip and a few of my bosses and teachers at my door. I answer wearing slacks and drinking a gin & tonic. I am jack’s complete lack of surprise. Me, Phillip, and the whole gang piled in a van and drove to a resort/restaurant 10-15 outside of Thawangpha in a town called Pua. The school admins joined. Shmoosing, drinking, eating, yada yada yada. We discussed the game plan for the following morning: Phil observes our class and then we leave for Chiang Mai by noon.

The only class I had scheduled for that morning was my 3/1 class at 11-11:50. 3/1 isn’t just another class. 3/1 is notorious in the foreign language department for being the worst class in the entire school. These kids are borderline impossible to teach. 3/1 is the kind of class that inspires teachers to become administrators, far away from the classroom. This was going to be Phillip's only impression of me as an educator. Of course at dinner, the principals and teachers downplayed the severity of 3/1. To admit that their 3/1 students lacked discipline, respect for others, and a modest interest in linguistics would be to admit to major faults within their own institution.

Friday: The next morning I was told to prepare to teach. I got the green light from the principals. It was going to happen. Then at the last minute like a closer in the bullpen, a telephone rang and kruu rin answered it. It was the dugout with the new plan. When she hung up, she told me that the admins canceled 3/1 and instead wanted me to teach my comparatively angelic 4/1 class (the polar opposite of 3/1) so that the school could hide their problems, and successfully save face. Two problems with the new plan:

1. I had already taught 4/1 twice earlier in the week. So I had no lesson plan prepared.

2. The class was in 10 minutes. Hardly enough time to prepare a worthwhile lesson.

After 7 minutes of prep, I'm ready-ish. With 3 minutes left on the clock, another phone call came from the dugout (admin office). Another change of plans!

“4/1 is canceled.” Kruu rin told me, “Go to your room and pack up your things [for Chiang Mai]." No explanation was offered as to why "they" decided to cancel my morning classes. They either didn't think I could handle either situation, or they were hiding something from Phillip are the only things I could imagine.

An anticlimactic end to a morning of chaos behind closed doors. Everything probably looked pretty ordinary to Phillip. Ah well. Free ride to Chiang Mai.

This post is far too long so I will sum up my weekend in Chiang Mai in a few words and pictures: sushi, footlong sub sandwich, nachos, latte, soft stool :-(, charcoal tablets (the antidote) :-), used book stores, a chill hostel, sketchy night clubs, Kings (The card game was played on the King of Thailand's 82^nd birthday that weekend. Fitting.), gin and tonic, go karts, flamingos, lions, flying gibbons… oh and freebird. What kind of 24 year old American dude doens't know freebird, honestly?!