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?!