Sunday, August 15, 2010

Chapter 2: SHABOOZLE!

Chapter 2: Shaboozle

A game born out of a careful mixture of brooms, patio furniture, and imagination.

Equipment:
  • 2-4 players
  • 2 chairs of equal size
  • 2 aluminum cans of equal size
  • 2 brooms of equal size
  • 1 frisbee
A regulation setup looks a lot like this:

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Here's how it all got started.

"Shouldn't we be doing something?" said Rich to nobody in particular. Rich is a 22 year old Brit who has taken a year off of school to travel. I met him in a hostel in a town called Pai (pronounced pie) in Northern Thailand. At the time of the quote he was lounging in the next hammock over.

"Its raining, what can we do" replied Dave, an English teacher at my school, who also was in a nearby hammock.

Outside of the $3-a night bungalows we all stayed in, was a grassy field with a gazebo adjacent to it where one could find a shady spot to lounge about and read on a sunny day. Or in our case, to seek shelter from a torrential downpour.

Dave and I were the first ones to venture out of our sheltered hammocks and initiate the frisbee tossing. Frisbee tossing soon turned into target practice and petty challenges.

At first it was,
"Let's both aim at that bush and see who can be the first to hit it."

And then I introduced patio furniture,
"Who can hit this chair first."

BUT THEN...
Dave turned a chair upside down, and propped it up with a small broom.
"Lets see who can knock this over first."

All the while rain coming down steady and strong. At that stage in our frisbee session we were both soaked, but neither of us cared in the slightest.

We were situated about 40 feet apart on opposite ends of the grassy field. Rich was still in the hammock, but started to express interest at this point. Rich the Brit would soon introduce the idea of 2-on-2 team shaboozle. But I'm getting way ahead of myself. As I was saying, 40 feet apart, each with an upside-down chair held upright by a broom in our immediate vicinity. The object: to knock the other guy's chair/broom over.

At first, the thrill of knocking the other guy's station down and watching him set it back up was satisfaction enough. As our aim got better, and scoring became more regular, we felt the need to keep take the game to the next level. Rules and regulations were needed to transform this game to a sport. Like any big idea, dialogue was opened candidly...

Something along the lines of,
Well sure a chair is bigger than a broom and therefore way easier to hit. You don't need to be an English teacher to figure that out. From now on,
  • Chair: 1 point
  • Broom: 3 points

I Agree, but how do you win.............
..............first one to score 21 points.
Then its settled.

Like any sport in its infancy, new rules were needed to enhance gameplay and to add clarity.
  • One of first rules was the introduction of an empty beer can that sits on the top one of the back chair legs. A handful of pebbles thrown in the can to protect it from head winds. The beer can is worth 2 points if hit directly.
  • Another rule is that if the broom sticks is struck hard enough to cause a chain reaction of beer can, broom, and chair to come falling down, the thrower is awarded 3 points and must then yell out SHABOOZLE! Yelling Shaboozle at your opponent is not unlike yelling Jenga or Yahtzee after a critical moment. However, where the sport departs from those children's games is that Shaboozle should be yelled with the intention of making your opponent FEEL great personal shame when you go hoarse yelling, dancing, and taunting.
  • A standard Thai broom has bristles that fan out in a V-shape. This is good for stability to keep the chair upright from heavy winds, but DOES NOT count for a shaboozle if hit with the frisbee. A shaboozle can ONLY be awarded if the broomstick is hit directly. There is an argument to be made about whether a 3rd party "ump" or "ref" would be needed to settle disagreements if the sport went mainstream. Kind of like the strike zone.
  • Oh, and if chickens happen to walk by the shaboozle court, its a 5-point bonus if you can hit one with a frisbee. This hasn't happened yet. I'm still waiting. With 40 or so chickens constantly roaming the premises, its basically an inevitability.
  • The last major addition to the climate of the game has been the barrage of constant shit talking, wagers, bets and psych outs aimed at distracting your opponent during or before a throw. "You suck at teaching!" "Shank it!" "Buckner!"


Shaboozle borrows from several sports. In it can be found aspects of curling, horseshoes, jenga, beer pong, and BASE'ketball. Pretty much all the great ones. A well-rounded Shaboozle should have an arsenal of different throws to cater to wind directions and speed as well as having a good defensive game. Psych outs and distractions can make all the difference in a close game.

Replacing group soccer juggling, Shaboozle has quickly become the primary sport played at the apartment building after school and on weekends.
Here's Matt in the foreground about to hand a Shaboozle to Team Lefty. Jesse is on the far left and can be identified as wearing slacks in the 90 degree heat, whereas Beluga, oh I mean Dave is blindingly white and sporting blue swim trunks he bought at Baby Gap.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Fun and Games. Chapter 1: Ice, Ice, Baby




Chapter 1: Ice, Ice. . . . . . baby.

Its called "Icing".

A practical joke game that was birthed at a major University in Virginia several months ago, probably in some frat guy's living room.

In a nutshell, Icing is where you and your crew (usually friends or coworkers) are members of an exclusive game where everyone involved is constantly trying to trick one another into peeping at bottles of Smirnoff Ice (below is a sidebar explaining what Smirnoff Ice is exactly, for those who are unfamiliar).

Smirnoff Ice: It’s a horrendous, vile alcoholic "

drink" that can be purchased virtually anywhere in the world for some reason. I don't know who decided that was a good idea... At any rate, SI is targeted specifically at young party-going ladies that don't particularly enjoy the taste of beer, a

nd can't afford mixed drinks. The game goes that if you can make one of your friends look directly at a full SI bottle, they MUST then take a knee right then and there, regardless of where "there" is, and chug the whole thing at once. We'll call the victim the Icee, and the perpetrator the Icer. The Icee can not stand until he or she has finished the bottle entirely. While the Icee is planted in Ice position chugging the vile drink, the Icer is expected to be laughing mercilessly, cracking jokes at the Icee's expense

and getting as much footage as possible.


The beauty of this game, besides making your friend drink this disgustingly sweet, aspartame-chucked sewage is the setup of the prank. The more elaborate the set up the better in my opinion, but a quick icing can be fun everyone now and then to keep your friends and co-workers in check.

The history of Icing doesn't go back further than 7-8 months, about as long as I've been gone. I hadn't heard of it until Alexis, one of the new teachers in my program told me about it a few weeks back. I LOVE the idea of this game so much that I have incorporated it in my daily life here in Thawangpha. In the past month I've "Iced" 5 of my friends on non-consecutive occasions, and look forward to icing more. Smirnoff Ice can be purchased at most 7-11s here in Thailand. Thanks multi-national corporations.

Here's a few of my victims:

Matt, 31 years old, 6'7" tall. A teacher at Pua School, the next town over.


Jesse, 25. English teacher at my school (Thawangphapittayakhom School). Teaches 7th, 8th, and 12th grade.


Dave, 23. English teacher at my school (Thawangphapittayakhom School). Teaches 9th and 11th grade.

Stay tuned for Chapter 2 in my August Fun and Games segment, where I'll introduce the greatest outdoor game, Period. Its called Shaboozle. Intrigued yet?

Deuces.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Night Where Closing Time Became a Nan-Issue

The World Cup match I'll never forget.

Back in the United States, I would have never, under any circumstances willingly walked up to a police station, smelling of beer, at 3 o'clock in the morning, and ask an officer in uniform if I could join the force in watching a soccer match.

Last weekend that's exactly what I did. That's how the story ended. But why?

The time difference between South Africa and Thailand is 5 hours, Thailand being five hours ahead of South Africa. So when the 8:00pm USA vs. England soccer match started in Johannesburg, it really started at 1:00am in Thailand. I thought that since this was the most anticipated match of the weekend for most soccer fans, that a sports bar or two would be showing the match in its entirety. This would be asking a lot in my farm town of 8 or so thousand which doesn't have any bars, let alone a sports bar that would stay open 'til 3am. Surely though Nan, the province capital, most populous city, economic center, and a city touted for hosting the best (and only) night life within a 200km radius would show the game.

The night was filled with 3 matches, the first of which started at 8:30pm. This match was South Korea vs. Greece. My mates and I were in good spirits when we found a 'metal bar' that was televising the night's matches. The bar was dark, musty, furnished in wood, included a massive stage at the front-center, had several televisions with the game on, and was highly decorated with Che Guevara and Soviet Union memorabilia. Albeit not the sports bar we were looking for, but the beer was cold and the live music drowned out those annoying horns that the fans continuously abuse all throughout the match. The Thai "lock n' loll" cover band started playing midway through the second match (Argentina vs. Nigeria) and continued playing practically until closing time. Their best song of the night was Hotel California which was played during the lucky US goal late in the first half. A good omen.

The night came to a close when a Clapton song ended and everyone in the bar cleared out... excluding my table of Americans of course. Selfish Americans overstaying their welcome. How TYPICAL! To set the scene, the time was then 2:53am and everyone but me, my friends, and the waitstaff had left for the night. It was only half time in a neck and neck 1-1 game. We were looking forward to a 2nd half, but the staff wasn't havin it.

In a very Thai way of dealing with conflict, the bar staff never told us to leave or gave any kind of verbal suggestions that we should be on our way. That would be too forward. Thai people aren't like that. Instead, they turned off ALL of the overhead lights. My table sighs in unison. Our hopes to see a televised match that we had looked forward to all week were being crushed by a passive-aggressive, and probably pretty sleepy bartender.

Forget going to another bar. We were traveling by foot and bicycle. Where would we go? By the time we found a new Bar, IF we found a new bar, the game would be practically over.

My posse and I started to make the trek back to our respective sleeping quarters when we saw flickering lights in a window off in the distance. As we got closer we saw what looked like a Police Station. That night my posse consisted of:
  • 3 American girls, elementary school teachers; time in Thailand 1 week
  • 2 American guys, junior high and high school teachers; time in Thailand 1 month
  • Me; time in Thailand 7 and a half months
If we were going to watch the 2nd half of the USA vs. England match with the cops, someone would have to ask them first. With the most experience speaking Thai, it was up to me to ask the policemen if I, and my group of 5 friends could join them in watching the remainder of the match in their station. The Thai cops were nothing short of hospitable.

In the States I would have likely been cited for being drunk in public or maybe even tazed for talking to a cop at 3am with alcohol on my breath. That weekend however, I was greeted warmly with 6 comfortable chairs in front of the television. We friends talked soccer with the officers, enjoyed an exciting 2nd half, and at the game's end we Wai'ed (bowed to) the police and said our good-byes. On our way out as we were all putting our shoes on, one officer even said "Have a good night, see you again tomorrow!!!"

In my time here I've found Thai cops to be nothing but friendly, helpful, and approachable. It seems that they are truly there to protect and serve. At no point during that night was I nervous about being in a police station. I dare any of you back home to knock on a police station at 3am after a few brewski's and let me know how everything pans out. You might just get tazed.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Back at it

Back in the Saddle Again...
Angels aren't they?



Note the kid in the center of the frame giving me the double bird.

More of the double bird...

And this kid felt the urge to pummel on his friend during class.

In my last blog I believe I was talking about the joys of Song Kran, and the school year on the horizon. I still feel that Song Kran is bar none the coolest holiday worldwide. As far as teaching goes, I'm a month into the new quarter teaching some familiar faces and some new ones as well. I'm teaching 300 of my old students that are now 10th graders, and 300 new students that are now 8th graders.

Teaching to 8th graders is not unlike herding cats, or trying to domesticate wild dogs that have lived in the wild for their whole lives. What these groups all have in common is that they're highly allergic to demands of any kind. I'll tell a student to sit, and he'll sit. I'll thank him, and everything will be sunshine and lollipops-until I turn my back on him. Then he's back to running around hitting kids with a bamboo stick (teacher's pointer). I have reason to believe 90% of the kids in my lowest levels (lowest proficiency) have ADD and are incapable of paying attention for more than 5 seconds. My colleagues tell me that the observations I've made about 8th graders is not a problem unique to foreign teachers, but rather a problem for anyone that walks in front of the class with the intention of teaching. Luckily the other 85% of my classes are great. Its the start of the quarter so everyone else (ADD 8th graders being the exception) comes to my class on time, and fully prepared to learn. Life is good.

Over the past month I've done a bit of traveling. Highlights have to include:
- An empty schedule, lounging in a hammock on the beaches of Ko Tao. Ooooh, aaaaah.




- Weaving through the mountains of Northern Thailand on a sweet hog. I want your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle.


- Meeting new teachers to travel with. Left to Right: Dave the new teacher at my school, Girl Jessie, Boy Jesse, Kelly, Me, Alexis, and Ally. (The girls shown here are all teaching in Chiang Rai, a town 4 hours north of my village.)

At this stage I'd like to give a shout out to Jamie. Keep kickin ass and takin names, I love you and I'm always thinking about you. Hang in there cuz.

Did I mention that its starting to rain here?

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Darwinian Fitness and Song Kran - Way cooler than Halloween

More than 45 days have passed since the start of my summer vacation. Soon darkness will fall on my 2 month vacation. As of now I’ve noticed little indicators that suggest my "fun time" has already reached its peak and is now starting on it's dark descent. Most of my travel plans have already happened but more importantly, my funds that enable me to do cool shit are drying up. The parents have visited. So much damn fun! Song Kran water festival came and went as well. UBERFUN! All good things have to come to an end though. This includes all of my “6-month” buds from my teach abroad program have left Thailand during the past week. Thailand is becoming more of a lonely place by the minute. I suppose my lonely state is like sifting the dregs through my teeth after a delicious cup of coffee. A reminder that it was a quality beverage, but that its time to put the mug down, get busy, and look forward to the next batch. As of this moment I’m the only young white person within in a 100 mile radius. Scary! At the end of Song Kran week I boarded the night bus and headed back to my home. I’m back at school now, helping out with a brief summer school session. For 10 days I'll be teaching the very gifted 13 year olds English in 2 hour chunks.

The way that the seasons break down over here is slightly different than winter, spring, summer, fall. Its more like cool, dry, hot, wet. March through May is the hot season- April being the hottest, cruelest mother of them all. After 25 days, I can confirm it. the the month of April is the hottest, at least I hope it doesn't get any hotter. I'm doing about as good as the egg in the "This is your brain on drugs" commercials. I'm Cooked!

As I was melting into my bed sheets last night my mind started to wander as it often does in that state. I thought about what if I happened upon a time machine and accidentally travelled into Thailand (or somewhere similar to it) several thousand years ago. What if I had to live in an environment like this, hunter-gatherer style. If I had to survive within the uncompromising confines of rural Thailand, the rules of natural selection would be working against me. There's not a snowball's chance in hell my genes would be around for the next generation. I look around my town in Thailand and I notice that I sweat at least 10 times more than everyone else. If there was a water shortage, I would be the first one gone. Not to mention several other unfortunate physical traits: slow, heavy, white skin.... I'll keep it at that.

I'll move on from talking about my abstract dreams to something more fun and relevant... Song Kran!

Song Kran, it’s a nationally recognized, widely celebrated 3-day water fight all throughout Thailand. Song Kran is, in a word, "magical". Chiang Mai, which is considered the host city and birth place for Song Kran is where I was. I'll mention real quick that Chiang Mai is also notorious for having the craziest and biggest water fights in all of Thailand. That’s where I was, right there in the epicenter of fun. For 3 days, Anglos and Thai people alike throw on their water fighting fatigues and line the streets with buckets and water pistols for soaking. It looks a lot like this:




Its important to note that the center of this city has a wonderful moat running north-south along the main roadway. This is the front line of the water fight. Hundreds of people stand on the very edge of the bank, drop their buckets into the moat, fill them up, and pull them out using the rope (or something close to it) fastened securely to the bucket's handle (kinda like getting water from a well). Dipping and retrieving your bucket is only a 4-8 second maneuver if done correctly. Here's the moat:


Funny how Thai festivities keep coming back to buckets.


The moat makes for instant and unlimited ammunition all day long. During holiday hours the downtown roadways belong to the armed men and women standing by with their guns and buckets. Anything dry that enters the battle zone doesn't stay dry for more than a few seconds. Motorcycles, trucks, pedestrians, anything with the gall to pass through the center of town met the same end. Delightfully filthy moat water, lots of it.


Try to imagine small stages and loud speakers situated every 100 yards along the streets with dancers and Song Kran cheerleaders pumping up the crowds. Music blasting, everyone moving and shaking along to the infectious beat. Small parties and sustained-eruptions of wet people break out around these nodes of energy. During those 3 days I witnessed music cause a reaction like an alien mystery serum in a Sci-Fi movie would. Entrancing soundwaves transmitted to the eardrums of the masses. The sound waves were designed to evoke a very specific reaction: non-stop dancing and hurling of water-filled buckets. People snapped out the trance and wandered home to dry off and get rest as soon as the music stopped. Most of them anyway. Some of the hardcores (mostly white people) didn't get the memo that it was time to stop soaking people and continued to "celebrate" into the dark hours. Sigh, white people.


On the streets in the afternoon hours its pretty much a guarantee that no one* (almost no one) is exempt from a good soaking. Here's my experience...

Having just checked out of a hotel and seeing the folks off at the airport, I was dropped off by a tuk-tuk driver (taxi) just outside of the downtown battle zone. My mission was to walk 3 blocks to my guesthouse with the hopes of protecting the contents of my luggage from the outside world. When I embarked on the 3-block venture through the city streets, I was dry. It would have been clear to anyone with eyeballs and a 1st grade ability to infer that I was dry, unarmed and loaded down with DRY luggage. Anyone that witnessed me on in this state could rightly infer that I was not “in the fight”. As I was weaving between Song Kran participants and parked cars down the city streets it was obvious that I had no intentions or means of fighting back. All of this "common sense" was irrelevant, I soon learned. Common sense has no place in Song Kran. As far as the were concerned I broke two cardinal rules that day: (1)I was dry and outside at the same time; but more importantly (2) I was walking through a war zone with luggage. Luckily being from the Northwest, I had learned the importance of waterproof gear. Walking around for 20 minutes I became saturated from head to toe, but my camera, laptop, ipod, books, clothes, and other items in my bags remained bone dry. On any other day, soaking someone’s luggage would be grounds for unfriendly words. Not on Song Kran.

* - Only food vendors and merchandise shops could be considered as DMZ.

A nationally sponsored all out water fight sounds awesome, like it could work anywhere. Who doesn’t love a good water fight anyway? It made me think (I've got lots of time for that lately, maybe too much). Here’s what I came up with in short...

Some reasons why it works for Thailand:



  1. Thai people never fully grow out of adolescence.


  2. Thai people don’t really understand the concept of a lawsuit.

  3. Thai history is not ingrained in violence, but rather ingrained in avoiding violence.


  4. Temperatures during Song Kran afternoons range from 85-95 degrees during peak celebration.

  5. Thai people have absolutely no qualms about cancelling work for 3 days.
  6. Thai people don’t feel the need to drink heavily and get belligerent to have a good time.

  7. Thai people smile when conflict occurs. All around have tolerate worse shit on a daily basis.

Here’s why it could never work in the States…


1. Americans are too competitive, and take themselves too seriously in general.

2. Americans wouldn’t hesitate to file a lawsuit if injury or property damage occurred.

3. Americans are inherently more violent in comparison to the rest of the world. It would
inevitably escalate to throwing ice or fist fights.

4. It would lose its appeal when people got soaked in 65 degree temperature.

5. American corporations would never agree to business closure for 3 days. Christmas is
bad enough.

6. Sporting events are proof that Americans can’t responsibly have fun in large numbers.
There's always a small group of people that get shit-faced and take things too far.

7. Average Americans wouldn't tolerate getting soaked with icy cold water by a
complete stranger; we get pissed off when the line at Starbucks is too long.


Let this holiday be a reminder to the rest of the world that life should be a constant celebration. Song Kran has shown that an entire country can come together for 3 days and have a peaceful all-out war war. Even more impressive is that this year's Song Kran came at a time of extreme political unrest; Thai people are more politically divided than ever. But this didn't stop them from carrying out tradition. The rest of the world could learn a thing or two from Thailand. Tossing aside for a second the scarcity and high cost of water in the middle east... Could you imagine if Jerusalem, Gaza, and the West Bank adopted this holiday? That's a noodle scratcher.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Life after teaching

Red Shirt Rally in Bangkok.

Dreamworld field trip with my school.

Mae Hong Son Motorcycle trip

Thom Lod Cave, Birds and bats return to cave by the tens of thousands at sunset.








... But this is what vacation REALLY looks like.

If you run a google search of "Pattaya Reputation" you'll get thousands of hits saying the same thing: Pattaya is Thailand's epicenter for sex tourism. Over the years its gotten a reputation, mostly in Europe, for hosting and catering to the sleazy, old, fat, European sex tourists and "sexpats" (a sexpat is basically a sex tourist that has made a lifestyle out of having sex with thai girls). These old 50 something white guys all probably have the same story: They live an unfulfilling life in their home country where they put a priority on making a lot of money in a short amount of time and put meaningful human relationships on the back burner. With a lot of money saved up, the inability to make a personal connection with other humans, and no consideration for others, these hopeless old, single, rich men have all found some place to call home: Pattaya, Thailand. "Why not?" thinks the sexpat, "Thailand is warm, friendly to tourists, cheap to live, and beautiful young girls will have sex with me, they'd be stupid not to!" Its true that Thailand's economy is comprised largely of foreign money from western vacationers. Sex tourism is a sad side effect of European expansionism, or globalism, if you prefer.

Jesse and I were eating at a sit down restaurant in Pattaya and realized that we were completely surrounded by old European white men and their young Thai dates, some boys, but mostly girls. There has been a documentary made semi-recently that explores this topic, Louis Theroux Thai Brides documentary.

On a lighter note...

Believe it or not this is Pattaya 14 floors up looking out onto the coast. Even Thailand’s armpit looks nice. In the last 3 weeks I’ve done a bunch. I feel exactly like one of those worker ants I’d see every morning frantically transporting chip crumbs from on my nightstand to its colony, wherever that might be. But now I can lounge on the beach and forget all of that. I must admit that none of this cushy 5-star hotel action would be possible without a lot of luck. My teaching cohort at my school in Thawangpha (Jesse) scored a few nights at a hotel in Pattaya via the RCI timeshare company (the same company that brought us Eagle Crest). Otherwise I’d be staying at a sweaty little guesthouse on the bad side of town. 3 cheers for scabies! This is much more relaxing, and safe.

To recap in the past 3 weeks:

I’ve said farewell to English teachers that finished their terms in Thailand

I’ve mourned my stolen ipod

Graded tests and turned in final grades for the semester

Motorcycled in the ballpark of 1,000 km through mountain villages and winding roads

Explored some limestone caves, 8,000 year-old coffins found within, and witnessed the flight of tens of thousands of bats and birds flying back into the cave at sunset.

Had the pleasure of meeting the REAL Rambo in person

Got the flu and sweated it out in Chiang Mai and Chonburi

Chaperoned a school field trip which included stops at the following:

- Little Siam. I saw the Eifel Tower, the Pyramids, and the great wall; imagine the "It’s a Small World After All" ride

- Dream World Amusement Park (a hilariously cheap, Thai knockoff of Disneyland)

- Children’s science museum, planetarium and aquarium... snooze

Met up with Jesse’s Japanese friend Nobu, and toured nearly every single Wat within Bangkok's city limits. Oh yeah, in humid 90 degree temps.

Went to the Bangkok's medical hospital where I viewed the biggest testicle ever recorded, preserved tsunami victims, and many other medical wonders.

Waded through the Red-Shirt stronghold at least a dozen times

Saw Alice in Wonderland in 3-D IMAX

5 days of total relaxation at Pattaya. Sleep, swim, eat, beach, read, doze, swim, eat....

A few more days of relaxation and hanging out with some quality folks from my teaching program in U-Thong. Beer, pizza, simpsons, zombieland.

Its nice to be able to sleep in and lose all track of time. To wake up and not care what day it is, what time it is, and experience the reassuring feeling that I don't have to entertain thai kids is a great feeling. Teaching is a fun job, don't get me wrong, but can be tiresome. Intensive battery recharging is just what the doctor ordered.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Justifiably bitter

On January 3rd, 6,000 baht was taken from my suitcase while it was going through baggage check at the airport.
On March 6th my ipod was stolen from off of my desk in my office.

Today my iPod was stolen off of my desk while I was grading papers no more than 9 feet away the entire time. I think back on it and maybe the thief struck while I was going to the bathroom for a few minutes. More than likely they did it while I was distracted in a 2 hour window from 1-3pm. All day I was trying to ignore the students constantly filtering in and out of the foreign language office. There must have been at least 500 mathayom 4 and 5 students coming and going, milling around the office today returning their textbooks and checking their final grades.

As my desk is a mere 3 feet away from the textbook stack, I found the constant buzzing of noisy 15/16 year olds brushing up against my desk, squeezing through the narrow passageways between desks all afternoon to be distracting. Plugging my headphones in would have been the logical answer, and in hindsight the solution. I've been trying not to plug my headphones in as it can be seen as disrespectful to the other teachers in the room, giving them the impression that I am going out of my way to avoid dialogue with them. Especially since today was the last day of the school year, and I am one of the only teachers in the office, I thought I'd set my ipod aside, and talk with my coworkers. "Why not right?" I thought. "I won't have to do this chit chat water cooler crap for another 2 months!"

Biggest mistake of my life. Setting my ipod aside and letting myself get distracted by my coworkers allowed for any one of the 500 kids to swipe it off my desk and disappear for 2 months. Its the perfect crime. I give the kid credit though. As bad as he or she is at studying or paying attention in my class, they chose the most expensive and the most personally valuable item to steal from me, and on the best day of the year to do so. The only day of the year that is followed by 2 months to disappear like a fart in the wind (shawshank). This coward did his homework, no pun intended.

If anyone reading this can burn music mp3's to a CD or DVD and send it to me, you'd be doing me a huge favor. That iPod was my life. I spent years collecting the 15,000 songs and 700 or so photos on that hard drive. I had rare DMB performances, Weezer's b-sides collection, thoughtfully crafted playlists, and photo albums saved to the hard drive. I'll be traveling for the next two months and this would have been the ideal time to use my ipod. Not to mention I finally got a good sound system for my room, and now no music to play on them. This act of cowardice really leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Pirating music is wrong indeed, but taking 120 gigs of someone's life away is so much more personal. I try to remind myself that it only takes one person to shit on the salad. This shouldn't e what I take away from Thailand but right now its all i can think about. I've been told that Thailand is a country of friendly buddhists, but this is the second time I've been stolen from in 3 months. I don't know if its because I'm a foreigner to their land, and it was a personal steal, I'm not going there. But I will say that in the 20 years I've lived in the States I've never had my car broken into nor has my family's home ever been robbed. Twice I've been stolen from in 4 months in Thailand.

You can bet next term I'm going to accost any Thai kid with headphones in their ears that walk in my general direction smirking at me. I'll try to put this behind me and make the best of a bad situation, but this act couldn't get more personal for me. Its my sanity that I go home to after a hard day. I am imagining a thai kid erasing 100 gigs of my life and throwing on 50 Cent, linkin park, and lots of Korean pop. Or worse yet stealing it and realizing they don't have a connector cord. shudder.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

One semester down, one to go.

Last Friday Marked the academic halfway point for my trip. I've got until May to travel around Thailand and maybe check out a couple neighboring countries. After that I've got a solid 5 months of teaching. No Holidays to break it up like last this term, and the weather will be a bajillion times hotter and wetter. On the other hand I'm a little wiser, a little more experienced, all around better prepared for whats coming.
Time has been flyin recently with grading all of the final tests and entering scores. Its a blessing in disguise I feel. The workload has kept me occupied and kept my mind off of all the quality folks that I've had to say good-bye to over the course of the last week.
One of the perks to teaching abroad is meeting fun, interesting, open-minded folks along the way. The downside is that the rapid turnover rate of teach-abroad English teachers doesn't permit much time for hanging out before the inevitable departure date. Its pretty common for contracts to expire after 5 months to a year. The end of this current term seems like a mass exodus of really great people. On the flip side, I can't wait to meet the next batch of teachers in May. The rumors have been confirmed that my school is getting a couple Japanese teachers and one new English teacher to replace Tyler. The English teacher's name is Maxime. He is a large (seemingly) French-Canadian from Quebec, 23 years old, and English is his second language. Should make for an interesting next term for sure.


News:

Instead of trying to catch you up with EVERYTHING thats been going on I'm just going to post a few pictures from my recent adventures and let you use your imagination.

14.5k/9mile "fun" run. Gassed.

Yakisoba at the new kitchen.


Academic exhibition for the community.


Doi Phuka National Park.

Friday, February 19, 2010

...still alive

Its been a little while since my last update. I'll try to get with the program this weekend.

Not much has happened between now and then: The Princess visited our town, and I turned another year older.

Most of my hours have been spent fitting in as much time with my friends as possible. The majority of my English-speaking social circle leaves Thailand sometime between the last week of February and the first week of March. Part of me envies them for their early departure, but the other part of me isn't ready to go home. There is still so much to see and so much to do. Visiting ancient ruins overrun by monkeys is high on the list. If you're not sold on the monkeys, look at how much fun she's having. This could be me!

SWEET.

Real quickly I'd like to wish everyone reading a happy:
- Groundhogs day
- Presidents Day
- Mardi Gras
- Ash Wednesday
- Superbowl Sunday
- Abraham Lincoln's B-day
- Martin Luther King Jr. Day
- George Washington's B-day
Seems like a lot of trivial holidays happen in January/February (except the Superbowl and Mardi Gras). I bet there's even more out there that I'm forgetting.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

English Camp in Mayberry

The following was an abandoned blog entry from last weekend, Sunday the 17th of January:

Today I took part in the Chan Klan English Camp. Coming into the camp, I didn't know what to expect really. This morning I left my flat with a thumb drive of potential English speaking/listening games. I had done one other English camp previous to this one. It seems like every other weekend someone I know is busy with a camp. I like to pick their brains to hear their stories, listening to what worked for them, etc. I knew generally what to expect, so I wasn't worried.

Sidebar: The old me would probably shit my pants at the thought of entertaining 150-200 kids without a specific plan (someone who knows anything about grammar feel free to correct this sentence).

Sorry for the stream of consciousness there.

Back to the ride over to Chan Klan. I'm sitting there with Tyler and Jesse, my partners in crime. A teacher from the school hosting the camp picked us up around 7am. So there we are, sitting quietly, Jesse making small talk. Tyler pondering to himself as usual. I'm digesting my coffee and bananas, thinking about the probable sequence of todays events: 150-200 kids, probably split up into groups of 20 or so, play some sherades, eat some free lunch, photo op at the end, make a couple speeches, and leave with 1,000 baht in my pocket.

This is what I expected. Not too much longer after I start spacing off at the rice patties whizzing by my window do I hear the driver share with us how excited everyone back at Chan Klan was that we [Tyler, Jesse, and I] were coming. I passed it off as nothing more than typical Thai flattery until he mentioned that we were the first farang their school will have seen in 10 years. This small talk just got serious.

Thai kids who aren't used to native English speaking tend to do the dear in headlights thing. On top of that. A this point he's got our attention. We ask the driver more questions. He said the camp was all Mathayom 1 students. For those at home, mathayom schools are M1-6 (grades 7-12 equivalent). In the 5 minutes in the car I had learned that I would be entertaining 100 7th graders for 6 hours. A typical English camp has somewhere in the vicinity of 150-200 students and about 5-10 teachers. The ratio ends up being in the ballpark of 20 students to every teacher. Once split up into these groups, the students rotate from teacher to teacher, being entertained at each station for about 30 minutes before a bell or something sounds and the students rotate to the next teacher.

This camp turned out to be quite different.

As the truck drove through town, we began to see why no white people had been there in over 10 years. Probably for the same reason Mayberry hadn't seen Thai people. As we passed the elementary school (which the driver said only has 60 attending students and 3 teachers, one of them being the principal) I started putting the figures together. Only 100 students at camp, and only the 3 Americans to entertain them for 6 hours. This meant 33 students per group session. This kinda rules out sports. 33 person kickball with 7th graders? Ummm No. OK how 'bout sherades? Well lemme think a second, these kids will surely be freaked out at the sudden whitey invasion of their bizarro mayberry. Since they're only 13, they won't have much of an English vocabulary of a knowledge of pop culture figures which is what kinda drives sherades. Not to mention awkward and self-conscious because: they're 7th graders.

We arrived and the bulk of the day was spent doing a lot of games that got them moving. This helped to...... "break the ice" would be a bold-faced lie, so I'll games melted the ice. Imagine that big mother that took down the titanic versus a hotel hair dryer. Having only planned for 30 minute entertainment sessions, Jesse, Tyler, and I met up at lunch time and had all run out of material to keep them busy. We used our go-to games, our back-up games, and our back-up back-ups. We refueled and brainstormed some quick games to occupy them for another 2 hours. Musical chairs, duck duck goose, crabwalk/leap frog relays... the old standards we know and love.

The students were painfully shy to start, but were screaming, play fighting and taking pictures with the Americans by the end. Total lovefest. I learned my lesson this week. Be more proactive in the planning stages of these types of things. The difference between 30 minute and 1 hour game sessions or 7th and 10th graders for that matter is big.

The post-English Camp regiment consisted of a long shower, bbc documentary on the Mayan disappearance, intermittent dozing, and a 22 ounce longneck of Leo (delicious local beer).

In case anyone was wondering, the theory that a long-lasting draught wiped out the Mayans has picked up more support as more climate data from ice cores and soil samples is coming in. Draught isn't as sexy as mass sacrifices by the millions.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.

I was flipping the calendar from January to February the other day and paused to reflect on the month. Starting with the new year, I try to write one sentence highlights for every day of the month. Its kinda fun to look back and read "wanted to strangle my 3/3 students today". What fond memories. I looked at January 3rd and it read: Planes trains and automobiles. This wasn't a comment on the John Hughes movie, but rather an entire day of travel from Phuket to Thawangpha. It surpassed 24 hours, and I explored nearly every mode of transportation (except the toboggan). Here's the full story.




Saturday, January 2nd
6:45 am - My last night of vacation. I spent it with a Canadian, an Irishman, a Brit, and a "Michigander". I wikipedia'ed it, Michigander is the preferred nomenclature. No craziness to report on this particular night. Just a pleasant end to an unforgettable vacation. My crew spent our last night walking around "the strip" people watching in Patong, Phuket. Patong could be described as the seedy underbelly of Phuket. Lots of bars, lots of ping pong show offers (use your imagination), and lots of suit tailors relentlessly begging you to buy a suit, in broken English. While walking the strip, I soon felt numb to the frenzy of activity that surrounded me. Neon lights, food vendors, sex solicitation, strippers, street performers... After 20 minutes its all white noise. What DID catch my eye was a stump. A typical stump like you'd see on a BLAMO commercial on Ren & Stimpy. Sticking out of the log was an upright nail, and a hammer right there next to it. Pounding this nail was more tempting than popping bubble paper. To reference Ren & Stimpy yet again, it was like the shiny red button, irresistible (I hope SOMEONE has seen this show). Folks from the UK like darts and billiard games, Japanese like karaoke, but it seems that Thai people are big supporters of getting liquored up and pounding crap with hammers. I like Thailand.

At the end of the night I headed back to the guesthouse where I shared a room with Al the Irishman. We both had to wake up early for a flight to Chiang Mai in the morning.

Sunday, January 3rd
7:15 - Caught a cab to airport.
Transportation:
Honda Civic taxi cab.

10:00 - Flight from Phuket to Chiang Mai.
Transportation:
Air Asia, Boeing 737.

12:30 pm - Chiang Mai airport to Tha Pae Gate for lunch, coffee and used books.
Transportation: Tuk Tuk. 2:15 - Catch a ride from Tha Pae Gate (downtown) to the Chiang Mai Bus Station.
Transportation: Songthaew.
3:00 - Bus ride from Chiang Mai to Nan.
Transportation: Mercedes, commercial bus. Air Conditioned, first class. Complimentary water and cookies, but no blanket. This leg of the trip lasted 6 hours. I remember finishing slaughterhouse 5. Vonnegut's major work.
9:00 - Nan Bus Station to the "Princeton House".
This was a long 6-hour ride. And although I didn't really exert myself sitting down reading, I was still exhausted as a result. When the bus rolled into the Nan station, the sun had long since set. I checked the time as I peeled my sweaty back off of the seat. The time was 9pm and I had been traveling for over 13 hours. Unfortunately, for your narrator's sake, the Thailand busing schedule did not allow for a quick departure home that night. To briefly explain, Thawangpha is a sleepy little farming town. Anyone with a vague understanding of how supply and demand works could tell you that it wouldn't make economic sense for a bus company to offer their services to a place incapable of matching or surpassing the the basic costs of operation (labor, fuel, maintenance). Naturally, the last bus passing through Thawangpha runs at 5:00pm. Which is pretty much when businesses in town close down for the night. Well aware of all this, Tyler and I (John Candy and Steve Martin), got off the bus and called up the Nan girls for a place to stay for the night. The Nan girls are 4 young American teachers, like ourselves, that we have become friends with during the past few months. They have been teaching Thai elementary kids through the Princeton Fellowship program pretty much right after their graduation last June. This is where we'd crash for the night.
Back to the story... We got off the bus, and I'm grouchy (Steve Martin), mumbling to myself 'glass-half-empty' thoughts because in the back of my mind I knew we still had a long walk ahead of us, with luggage in hand no less. In the midst of my negetivity, a Christmas miracle occurred: after getting off the phone with one of the girls, Tyler informed me that there were two bikes parked at the bus station that we could ride back if we didn't want to walk. That's a no-brainer. We biked home, cutting 20 minutes of walking off the trip. We get to the house and fall fast asleep.

I had come a long way, but the journey wasn't over. We still had to wake up with the roosters at dawn and catch the early bus before school started.

Transportation: Two Schwinn bicycles
Monday, January 4th:


5:40am - Nan to Thawangpha.
Tyler and I Woke up in time to catch the 6 o'clock bus to TWP. Like most things in Thailand, the bus ran late. We didn't get picked up from the bus stop until about 6:20. This was a bus ride to remember. The morning air is cold damp. Why would I pack short sleeves unless I planned on sitting next to the only window on the bus stuck wide open. 1 cold hour later...
Transportation: the beater bus. Slow, old, and rarely on time.
7:18am - Wat Aham to Thawangphapittayakhom School.
The bus driver has overshot our stop. Tyler and I waving our arms in the air to alert the bus driver to stop. We got off the bus in a hurry with our luggage intact. The bus dropped us off further away than usual. We were tense because we needed to get back in time to perform the routine "English Today" skit in front of the school in less than an hour. I remember getting off the bus, looking at my phone, and saying 7:18AM to Tyler. 40 minutes to get home, get changed, and look like a teacher for 2,000 people WITH a speech prepared. Let me give you a visual: At this point I was going on 25 hours of traveling, Old Spice being my only means of sanitation. I hadn't shaved since I left TWP 5 days previous. Bed head, hobo stench, scraggly facial matter, and a mustard stained t-shirt to throw it all together . Got a good visual? Imagine two Americans running through a sea of uniformed Thai kids- our hands full with luggage. I unlock my door and its 7:45 now. 15 minutes before the assembly starts. I enter my room and throw my stuff down. Like a man possessed I rinsed off, shaved, and threw my work clothes on in record time. Not sure how, but I made it to the stage ON TIME and delivered the skit with Jesse.

Transportation: Chaco sandals.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Damn you Whitney!

Disclaimer: Allow me to extend a preemptive apology to whoever happens to be reading this entry hoping for a fun travel story, an intellectually stimulating thought, or at least a mildly amusing anecdote. You'll get nothing of the sort today. Today I complain about Whitney Houston.

A teacher in the English department has been administering a listening skills test for all of her students. A listening test is when a recording is played on a portable stereo for the students to hear. They sit quietly and write down the words as fast as they can. The selection is played 2 to 3 times in a row.

I don't take issue with the exercise. Its a fine idea, but why oh why did did the audio selection have to be Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You?!



Albeit, the song will go down in the books as one of the greatest solo performances in music history. That's a given. What makes the song so special is the vocal range, especially the high note. You know the note. Nobody else can hit that note, nobody. But it isn't meant to be played 26 times daily for a week! If you are within a 5 block radius of room 423 you've got Whitney stuck in your head. Whats worse is all the Thai kids and teachers walk around singing it, all trying to hit "the note". Like I said earlier, only one woman can hit that note. Her name is Whitney. So if you're not Whitney, then stop it. Let it be.



A second apology shall be issued to anyone who has Whitney stuck in their head as a result of my post. I feel your pain.




Allow me to repair the damage with a quote from American Psycho. Patrick Bateman's thoughts on Whitney:

Bateman - Did you know that Whitney Houston's debut LP called simply Whitney Houston, had four number one singles on it? Did you know that Christi?


Christi - You actually listen to Whitney Houston? You own a Whitney Houston cd? More than one?


Bateman - It's hard to choose a favorite among so many great tracks. But The Greatest Love of All is one of the best and most powerful songs ever written about self preservation and dignity. Its universal message crosses all boundaries and instills one with the hope that it's not too late to better ourselves since it's impossible in this world we live in to empathize with others, we can always empathize with ourselves. It's an important message, crucial really, and it's beautifully stated on the album.


If you'll excuse me, I've got some video tapes to return. I'm signing off.

Make it a great day!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

A few snapshots to sum it up

This Is New Years.



Phuket ferry to Phi Phi island. A crowded boat of young people from all walks of life converging on to a small island for a 48 hour period to play hard. Kinda like a barge to Ellis island, but sunny and whimsical.


The official mode of transportation on Phi Phi Island. Welcome to vacation. Heres a fruit shake.



Weekend Warriors: William Wallace and cohort Steven the raving Irishman (This is Alan actually, he's not raving, but he is Irish. Very Oyrish.)



New Years @ the Apache: fiery jump rope + booze = good people watching





A New Years to remember. Well, you get the idea.

Free buckets!

New Years vacation was spent on Phuket and Phi Phi. Most people who have visited Phuket would agree with me that its sort of forgettable, especially if you've gone to the surrounding islands. Ko Phi Phi (Pee Pee, not fee fee) on the other hand was a trip. Beautiful and didn't have near the sleaze factor that Phuket had. No sex was solicited, no Thai guys hollering at me wanting to fit me for a suit, and no PING PONG show advertised. Just banana shakes, white beaches, and longtail boats.

On Phi Phi I visited the setting of the movie "The Beach." Big Whoop is what you might be thinking, but you must remind yourself who the leading man of this mediocre film was: LEO! Mmhmm, I'm proud to say I stood on the same grains of sand that Leo Dicaprio did once upon a time. On Phi Phi I also snorkeled, kayaked, got a thai massage, lounged beachside reading Vonnegut, and consumed countless fresh fruit smoothies. Mmmmmm, smoothies.

Then there was the New Years bash. Every bar on the island was handing out leaflets trying to bait vacationers to drink at their bars. The bait was heavy. It wasn't uncommon to see offers like: "half-off drinks" "free food all night!" "buy-1, get-1 free" "3 for 1 Buckets", but my favorite was "limited time FREE BUCKETS". For those new to the term "Bucket", its exactly as it sounds. A bucket is liquor, soda, ice and a few crazy straws served to you in a cold plastic bucket. Its got a nice little handle making it easily transportable. Not easily spilled, no broken glass if it does spill. One more thing about buckets and then I'll shut up. Thailand loves the poo out of their plastic straws. If you buy a soda from 7-11, you get a straw. You buy a water, you better believe you're gettin a straw. When you buy a bucket, expect upwards of 5 straws. Thailand is also big on sharing. The whole buckets thing is a blessing and a curse. It encourages binge drinking for the masses, which lends itself quite easily to bad decisions on a large scale. My party crew of young, responsible teachers did the smartest thing to do on a teacher's salary: Hop from bar to bar visiting during the "free bucket" time slot. An economic game-plan maximizing fun and free food.

Time passed, buckets were consumed, and the crew settled at the Apache bar which had everything there is to look for in a decent outdoor bar: the beach, free/discounted buckets (duh), good music, orange glow in the dark face paint (get to that later) and FIRE! Let me explain: A limbo bar which was, of course... on fire, and a 20 foot jump rope. You guessed it, on fire. That made for good people watching. How can you go wrong with watching drunks on a beach trying to jump over a flaming jump rope? As long as you have friends who don't let you become one of those idiots you're ok. I apologize to anyone reading this that happened to be one of those idiots.

The ball dropped, clumsy hugs and kisses exchanged, and several of us threw ourselves into the ocean in a fit of joy. Looked fun, but in my state (too many buckets), I failed to notice what everyone was doing before they jumped in, which was taking their cell phones out of their pockets. I made the realization that my phone was fried, wet, and salty after 3 steps in when I was thigh high in salt water.

The phone passed away at 12:16am, but the night didn't end there. The remainder of the night was jampacked with orange face paint (I sported the William Wallace look for the night), Braveheart references, red bull, buckets, and dancing. Went to bed around 4:30. Mild hangover, but nothing a banana fruit shake and a pancake wasn't able to cure the next morning.



I said bucket over 10 times in this blog. Bucket.