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.

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.

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!

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.