Sometimes, you have to keep your hopes up high and your head down low, while we’re doing song lyrics. Though that’s no match to the Beatles.
Any way. I’m not even going to pretend I know how long I’ve kept a foxhole any more. Could be any number of times in the past that I’ve stuck my head down in the sand. But how long doesn’t matter as much when you’re coming out of it. At that point, it’s just the fact that it’s over.
I know it’s not over. I don’t know why today is different from any other day I could have declared, things are not ok, but they’re a bit better now.
I do know that I managed not to cry several times today; not even realizing until quarter to 6pm that today is the anniversary of my father’s passing.
I listened to a podcast about an adult with autism, and the plan for what he would do after his mother’s passing. (Almost tears, office, must remain composed).
I listened to a podcast about an Iraqi war veteran seeking out a Muslim Student Association to change his ideas, and that lead to his relief from his crippling PTSD.
I talked to one of my students about his aspirations to become a filmmaker.
My grammar lessons didn’t totally flop. I added a few details to the book lesson; with mixed success but something else.
My students have correspondence from students in New Jersey! ☺
I had grandiose ideas about getting more English books, which I weighed against the neo-colonialist viewpoint. We do have a librarian now finally; I’ll let her keep the reigns unless I come up with a really solid idea.
I can’t make any promises that I will never return to my foxhole.
I can’t say I’ve done things all on my own, all with my own fortitude. I’ve had shoulders and guidance, good and bad. But, as many say, I’m nothing if not stubborn, and my fortitude does have something to do with it.
I’m still not revealing what 2012 has in store. Mostly, because it’s still forming and shaping, and the last thing I’d want to do is jump the gun and maim it.
It wasn’t a particularly sunny day in Bangkok, but it wasn’t raining in my neck of the concrete jungle, and the sun is on the way.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sunday, December 18, 2011
What Christmas Feels Like
I’m not sure if it feels like Christmas or not. A couple of days ago, I decided it didn’t feel like Christmas at all, and I was okay with that. On the contrary, I thought to myself, perhaps I never want to feel Christmas again. Followed by the thought that everyone is going to think that totally morose and view it as not moving on.
But, maybe I just don’t want to feel Christmas the way it’s felt since 2007. I want to feel Christmas the way it was in 2006 and before that. I’m speaking of course, about losing my father at holiday time, Christmas 2007/New Year 2008. Anyone that’s experienced grief knows the holidays are hard. But they’re even harder when that’s the time of year your loved one passed. And that’s the foundation of my Grinch attitude, but I try to tone it down.
Last night I went to a holiday potluck. Almost everything had cheese. My friends with the vegetarian, non-dairy Thai food saved me on that one. It didn’t really feel like Christmas, but it was social, it was merry, and I guess that’s as close as it gets when you’re an expat away from your family and culture. It was nice.
On the walk and motorbike taxi ride home, I marveled at the ridiculous Christmas lights, fake reindeer and sleighs and what not decked out for the shopping megaplexes. While that looks neat, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Just commercialism. But, I suppose we don’t do a good job separating the two.
I received a Christmas card today from a good friend.
And it felt a little more like Christmas.
My Uncle Steve told me he is sending Uncle Jim’s famous Christmas cookies and cards for Christmas and my birthday. Family. Christmas.
I have a pile of un-mailed gifts sitting on a stool in my apartment. When I realized it would take two months to ship them; I figured well, I’m already late I’ll get to it after some other year end business. And it won’t matter that it won’t be there in time for Christmas, because the sentiment is what really makes it so.
But, maybe I just don’t want to feel Christmas the way it’s felt since 2007. I want to feel Christmas the way it was in 2006 and before that. I’m speaking of course, about losing my father at holiday time, Christmas 2007/New Year 2008. Anyone that’s experienced grief knows the holidays are hard. But they’re even harder when that’s the time of year your loved one passed. And that’s the foundation of my Grinch attitude, but I try to tone it down.
Last night I went to a holiday potluck. Almost everything had cheese. My friends with the vegetarian, non-dairy Thai food saved me on that one. It didn’t really feel like Christmas, but it was social, it was merry, and I guess that’s as close as it gets when you’re an expat away from your family and culture. It was nice.
On the walk and motorbike taxi ride home, I marveled at the ridiculous Christmas lights, fake reindeer and sleighs and what not decked out for the shopping megaplexes. While that looks neat, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Just commercialism. But, I suppose we don’t do a good job separating the two.
I received a Christmas card today from a good friend.
And it felt a little more like Christmas.
My Uncle Steve told me he is sending Uncle Jim’s famous Christmas cookies and cards for Christmas and my birthday. Family. Christmas.
I have a pile of un-mailed gifts sitting on a stool in my apartment. When I realized it would take two months to ship them; I figured well, I’m already late I’ll get to it after some other year end business. And it won’t matter that it won’t be there in time for Christmas, because the sentiment is what really makes it so.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Oh Where does the Time Go
So here we are, December. Where has the time gone?
Well, I’ve read so many books I feel I might be close to on par with my 7th grade self’s bookworm abilities, and perhaps a little improved. And I’m quite happy about that.
I’ve re-examined and re-confirmed the plight that is being a serially monogamous white female feminist in Bangkok. But I’m not going to write a book about it, because it would be shallow, and everyone wants to hear about the men and their Asian girlfriends and wives any way. I’m so getting spammed for that last paragraph.
But regardless, let’s sum up some of where I’ve been.
I’ve been to Penang, Malaysia, where I witnessed a Daoist celebration of the God of Prosperity’s birthday. I shared a ‘steam boat’ (in Chinese, ‘hot pot’) dinner with a group of no less than 9 nationalities in a newly opened art gallery. I got to see a fellow artist and friend currently working in Penang. I hiked through a National Park with some Brits I met at my hostel, to Turtle Beach. We missed the turtles. They showed me an interesting British sitcom that seemed like it should be viewed, and was probably created, with the help of LSD. And I did try ice kachang and that other noodle dish I was supposed to try. Oh, and frog. Penang has so much food; you could spend months there and never try it all. Maybe someday I’ll try.
Within the span of one day I found out school’s opening was pushed back yet further, and I turned around and booked myself a ticket and got back to Chiang Mai with less than 24 hours between landing back in Bangkok after Penang. I landed just in time to catch some good Loy Krathong festival photos, coming into Chiang Mai evening of the event with my acquired that day tripod. I win. Photographers note: Don’t shun the Starbucks when it has a third story balcony overlooking the parade where you can set up your tripod above the crowds. I didn’t even have to buy anything, I just waltzed on up.
I went mountain biking for the first time. I’m talking shin guard elbow armor mountain biking. Yes, it was the beginners trail, but it wasn’t anything to scoff at. Especially as I cannot recall the last time I rode a bicycle, 2009 back at Purdue, on sidewalks? I started counting how many times I fell. And then I thought to myself. How many kilometers are you biking? And what percentage of that is going to be taken up by your falls? So who cares? You just went mountain biking. That’s pretty awesome, regardless of how many times you slid and fell. One of the guides told me some people give up and walk their bike down the mountain, taking until 6pm for a ride that should end between 3 and 4pm. Sometimes I had to rest, or walk my bike over a bunch of boulders, but I always got back on. And oh goodness do I understand why serious cyclers wear padded shorts.
So I sit here and reflect, and wonder how I will phrase my words to keep from being cliché. But the fact is, I’ve learned more about myself this past year than I’ve learned about Thailand. I’ve learned a lot about Thailand, don’t get me wrong. But there are so many things I’d never been able to do before moving over here.
Thanksgiving this year was a smaller group, but we came together, laughed and ate. It reminded me that I miss that family tradition back home; but we all reminded each other how thankful we are to be in Thailand. Where I have a job. Where I can get medical treatment and, in my income bracket at least, know I’ll be able to receive and pay for treatment. And where I finally have room to just breathe.
My students will be back on Tuesday, December 6th, the 5th being the King’s birthday. After the October break and an extra five-week break due to the flooding, a friend of mine was right, “long break makes not just students lazy, but teachers too!” It’ll be an adjustment. But it’s time. We won’t be doing essays this quarter. I might be setting up a blog and requiring my students to publish their flood stories in English. Though I clearly know how to set up a blog, multiple authors is a bit trickier, and I’ll be consulting my 15 year old computer gurus on this matter. I will shamelessly ask you to read some of their stories.
I’ve spent some time tutoring a flood refugee at school. It’s hard going, but it’s more fulfilling than sitting in the office (teachers have still had to appear part of the time despite the students being pardoned for the flood), playing windows solitaire. I can hardly believe it’s December. In this tropical climate, you lose all sense of seasons, having grown up with all four. But I’ve done a lot, starting with my goal of living in Thailand for a year. And I’m not done yet.
In the words of Matchbox 20,
“Let’s see how far we’ve come! Let’s see how far we go!”
Well, I’ve read so many books I feel I might be close to on par with my 7th grade self’s bookworm abilities, and perhaps a little improved. And I’m quite happy about that.
I’ve re-examined and re-confirmed the plight that is being a serially monogamous white female feminist in Bangkok. But I’m not going to write a book about it, because it would be shallow, and everyone wants to hear about the men and their Asian girlfriends and wives any way. I’m so getting spammed for that last paragraph.
But regardless, let’s sum up some of where I’ve been.
I’ve been to Penang, Malaysia, where I witnessed a Daoist celebration of the God of Prosperity’s birthday. I shared a ‘steam boat’ (in Chinese, ‘hot pot’) dinner with a group of no less than 9 nationalities in a newly opened art gallery. I got to see a fellow artist and friend currently working in Penang. I hiked through a National Park with some Brits I met at my hostel, to Turtle Beach. We missed the turtles. They showed me an interesting British sitcom that seemed like it should be viewed, and was probably created, with the help of LSD. And I did try ice kachang and that other noodle dish I was supposed to try. Oh, and frog. Penang has so much food; you could spend months there and never try it all. Maybe someday I’ll try.
Within the span of one day I found out school’s opening was pushed back yet further, and I turned around and booked myself a ticket and got back to Chiang Mai with less than 24 hours between landing back in Bangkok after Penang. I landed just in time to catch some good Loy Krathong festival photos, coming into Chiang Mai evening of the event with my acquired that day tripod. I win. Photographers note: Don’t shun the Starbucks when it has a third story balcony overlooking the parade where you can set up your tripod above the crowds. I didn’t even have to buy anything, I just waltzed on up.
I went mountain biking for the first time. I’m talking shin guard elbow armor mountain biking. Yes, it was the beginners trail, but it wasn’t anything to scoff at. Especially as I cannot recall the last time I rode a bicycle, 2009 back at Purdue, on sidewalks? I started counting how many times I fell. And then I thought to myself. How many kilometers are you biking? And what percentage of that is going to be taken up by your falls? So who cares? You just went mountain biking. That’s pretty awesome, regardless of how many times you slid and fell. One of the guides told me some people give up and walk their bike down the mountain, taking until 6pm for a ride that should end between 3 and 4pm. Sometimes I had to rest, or walk my bike over a bunch of boulders, but I always got back on. And oh goodness do I understand why serious cyclers wear padded shorts.
So I sit here and reflect, and wonder how I will phrase my words to keep from being cliché. But the fact is, I’ve learned more about myself this past year than I’ve learned about Thailand. I’ve learned a lot about Thailand, don’t get me wrong. But there are so many things I’d never been able to do before moving over here.
Thanksgiving this year was a smaller group, but we came together, laughed and ate. It reminded me that I miss that family tradition back home; but we all reminded each other how thankful we are to be in Thailand. Where I have a job. Where I can get medical treatment and, in my income bracket at least, know I’ll be able to receive and pay for treatment. And where I finally have room to just breathe.
My students will be back on Tuesday, December 6th, the 5th being the King’s birthday. After the October break and an extra five-week break due to the flooding, a friend of mine was right, “long break makes not just students lazy, but teachers too!” It’ll be an adjustment. But it’s time. We won’t be doing essays this quarter. I might be setting up a blog and requiring my students to publish their flood stories in English. Though I clearly know how to set up a blog, multiple authors is a bit trickier, and I’ll be consulting my 15 year old computer gurus on this matter. I will shamelessly ask you to read some of their stories.
I’ve spent some time tutoring a flood refugee at school. It’s hard going, but it’s more fulfilling than sitting in the office (teachers have still had to appear part of the time despite the students being pardoned for the flood), playing windows solitaire. I can hardly believe it’s December. In this tropical climate, you lose all sense of seasons, having grown up with all four. But I’ve done a lot, starting with my goal of living in Thailand for a year. And I’m not done yet.
In the words of Matchbox 20,
“Let’s see how far we’ve come! Let’s see how far we go!”
Monday, November 7, 2011
Poker Face
I don’t play poker. I never learned the rules of the game, and I find lying difficult. I’d much prefer to be absolutely silent than to have to lie, or shout. So you may have noticed times I’ve been a bit quiet. Some of that is out of being busy. More often it’s because I’d rather not lie.
That’s a funny thing living in the land of smiles, because you have to lie. You have to lie to save face. You have to lie so someone else can save face. You have to lie, because you simply didn’t know you were lying – that’s the version of the truth you’ve been told. You have to lie because that’s what is expected, or the truth that is expected is impossible, so you have to twist it to get it to fit into the circumstances you’re given. Not all of the smiles are real. Statement of the obvious. You have to lie because you don’t really have free speech. Or you can only tell half the truth, or less. But you’ve got to do all this while being polite, mild mannered, and not losing your temper, and trying to let everyone keep face. Oh how I hated wearing masks in America, and what have I gone and gotten myself into? The same.
So here’s the deal.
Firstly, I’m not done in Asia.
I’ll let that sink in a few line breaks.
Got that? Staying. In. Asia. ☺
I’ve been waiting for months to formally say I plan to stay longer than a year. Sure, plenty of you saw that coming before I’d stepped on that first plane out of Indy. But not everyone pushes beyond the one-year abroad mark, it hasn’t always been easy and I haven’t been completely forthright at all times.
Secondly, yes, Bangkok is not exactly gumdrops and sunshine lately, as I believe has made it to international news by now (how accurately I’m not sure) but I’m not leaving it yet either.
Third, I’m not even writing this from Bangkok. I’m in Penang, Malaysia for a week.
I’d rather not lie. But I don’t particularly like answering tons of questions either, especially repeatedly. So let’s run down the list:
1) Did you leave Bangkok because of the flood? Yes and No.
2) Is your apartment in Bangkok flooded? No.
3) Has your area experienced flooding? Yes, but not extensively and not even knee deep. We experienced some ankle to mid-calve deep water during the high tide periods at the end of October.
4) Is anyone you know in Bangkok affected? Yes, including a lot of my students.
5) How has this affected your school? The start of second semester has been delayed two weeks, from Nov. 1 to Nov. 14.
6) Do you have emergency supplies in Bangkok? I have multiple liters of bottled water, rice, pasta, soup, etc. I also live on the third floor.
7) What will you do if you need to evacuate/School is delayed further/The world is about to end? Well, I’ve already visited my friend here in Penang, so my next two options are Northern Thailand above the flooded area or Kathmandu, Nepal, where I have another friend I’ve promised to visit. Air Asia for the win! But don’t kid yourself on not checking a bag for it.
8) Will the floods really reach your area? Even though you live right by the King’s actual residence, the Grand Palace and a bunch of other stuff they are trying to keep dry? As previously stated, depends on so many factors I could write a PhD thesis when this is all said and done (which I won’t). But I think it’s likely that I’ll be dealing with more water at some point. The mass of water looming above the capital is too great to merely block and divert by the current means, and it’s slowly working its way through any way.
9) What about disease outbreaks? I’m staying informed. 20% DEET is good. Yes I’m aware that’s not all. Did I mention Air Asia?
10) Should anyone travel to Thailand right now? The southern provinces and islands are fine, as are the north and northeast above a certain point. The Bangkok International Airport is still operational, and domestic flights do operate from there. I would avoid Bangkok if just going on holiday. If you live or work there it’s a bit different. Evacuation orders have been put into place for 11 of 50 districts of the city. The government waits until the bitter last minute to issue an evacuation, but believe me I’ve been watching closely. Did I mention I live in the tourist ghetto? As in, lost revenue, lost face? Mmm, right then.
11) So what are you doing in Malaysia again? Eating. Sleeping. Breathing. I ate frog for the first time that I’m aware of. And some duck, I’ve had that before but it’s tasty. And I saw a monkey, but we missed the sea turtles by about a week apparently.
12) And you’re going back to Bangkok in its current state? Yes, I have to sign in once a week even though school is delayed. Did I mention Thai, Government, and school? Ok when I use those three things in the same sentence I refuse to explain any further why something is necessary. And since I’m a foreigner, this is lenient. Row row row your boat, where’s the sign in sheet? I jest.
13) So when are you coming home? *Sustained awkward silence* I told you I don’t play poker.
That’s a funny thing living in the land of smiles, because you have to lie. You have to lie to save face. You have to lie so someone else can save face. You have to lie, because you simply didn’t know you were lying – that’s the version of the truth you’ve been told. You have to lie because that’s what is expected, or the truth that is expected is impossible, so you have to twist it to get it to fit into the circumstances you’re given. Not all of the smiles are real. Statement of the obvious. You have to lie because you don’t really have free speech. Or you can only tell half the truth, or less. But you’ve got to do all this while being polite, mild mannered, and not losing your temper, and trying to let everyone keep face. Oh how I hated wearing masks in America, and what have I gone and gotten myself into? The same.
So here’s the deal.
Firstly, I’m not done in Asia.
I’ll let that sink in a few line breaks.
Got that? Staying. In. Asia. ☺
I’ve been waiting for months to formally say I plan to stay longer than a year. Sure, plenty of you saw that coming before I’d stepped on that first plane out of Indy. But not everyone pushes beyond the one-year abroad mark, it hasn’t always been easy and I haven’t been completely forthright at all times.
Secondly, yes, Bangkok is not exactly gumdrops and sunshine lately, as I believe has made it to international news by now (how accurately I’m not sure) but I’m not leaving it yet either.
Third, I’m not even writing this from Bangkok. I’m in Penang, Malaysia for a week.
I’d rather not lie. But I don’t particularly like answering tons of questions either, especially repeatedly. So let’s run down the list:
1) Did you leave Bangkok because of the flood? Yes and No.
2) Is your apartment in Bangkok flooded? No.
3) Has your area experienced flooding? Yes, but not extensively and not even knee deep. We experienced some ankle to mid-calve deep water during the high tide periods at the end of October.
4) Is anyone you know in Bangkok affected? Yes, including a lot of my students.
5) How has this affected your school? The start of second semester has been delayed two weeks, from Nov. 1 to Nov. 14.
6) Do you have emergency supplies in Bangkok? I have multiple liters of bottled water, rice, pasta, soup, etc. I also live on the third floor.
7) What will you do if you need to evacuate/School is delayed further/The world is about to end? Well, I’ve already visited my friend here in Penang, so my next two options are Northern Thailand above the flooded area or Kathmandu, Nepal, where I have another friend I’ve promised to visit. Air Asia for the win! But don’t kid yourself on not checking a bag for it.
8) Will the floods really reach your area? Even though you live right by the King’s actual residence, the Grand Palace and a bunch of other stuff they are trying to keep dry? As previously stated, depends on so many factors I could write a PhD thesis when this is all said and done (which I won’t). But I think it’s likely that I’ll be dealing with more water at some point. The mass of water looming above the capital is too great to merely block and divert by the current means, and it’s slowly working its way through any way.
9) What about disease outbreaks? I’m staying informed. 20% DEET is good. Yes I’m aware that’s not all. Did I mention Air Asia?
10) Should anyone travel to Thailand right now? The southern provinces and islands are fine, as are the north and northeast above a certain point. The Bangkok International Airport is still operational, and domestic flights do operate from there. I would avoid Bangkok if just going on holiday. If you live or work there it’s a bit different. Evacuation orders have been put into place for 11 of 50 districts of the city. The government waits until the bitter last minute to issue an evacuation, but believe me I’ve been watching closely. Did I mention I live in the tourist ghetto? As in, lost revenue, lost face? Mmm, right then.
11) So what are you doing in Malaysia again? Eating. Sleeping. Breathing. I ate frog for the first time that I’m aware of. And some duck, I’ve had that before but it’s tasty. And I saw a monkey, but we missed the sea turtles by about a week apparently.
12) And you’re going back to Bangkok in its current state? Yes, I have to sign in once a week even though school is delayed. Did I mention Thai, Government, and school? Ok when I use those three things in the same sentence I refuse to explain any further why something is necessary. And since I’m a foreigner, this is lenient. Row row row your boat, where’s the sign in sheet? I jest.
13) So when are you coming home? *Sustained awkward silence* I told you I don’t play poker.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Farangs on Parade and Being Adopted
Everything that occurred today I wholeheartedly absolutely planned in advance myself, to make sure my best friend had the most well rounded Thailand experience possible. Of course the preceding line is a bunch of bull.
A couple days back, right before going super hiso at the mega malls, we stopped for lunch at a vegetarian restaurant and cooking school by the name of Mai Kaidee’s. You might have heard of it, Lonely Planet raves about it and it’s been on Thai TV. Heck even Dominic Monaghan from the TV show Lost has studied at Mai Kaidee’s cooking school. We walked into the restaurant, stepping over sandbags and other barricades to ask if it was in fact open. We were immediately roped into a traditional Thai dance with the cooking class that was wrapping up.
We dined, and chatted with Sommay, who goes by May or Mai for short, and she asked us if we were free Friday night. She was planning a fundraiser for flood victims. What was the plan? Get dressed up in traditional Thai dress and hit the campaign trail around Khao Sarn Rd. We’re in.
I’d like to think that I’m a philanthropic person, but I have to admit that I have my limits. So getting all dressed up (which is fun) to collect donations? Yes, I can do that.
We got to the restaurant a bit early, around 3pm, so we could eat before our 3:30pm call time. I’m allowed to use the term call time, there were cameramen filming us adjusting our bras. I hope that part does not air. Several people helped wrap us up in Thai garments, adorned us with Thai jewelry, did my hair and then helped me finish the makeup I started. Oh my goodness, did I have the best hair. Photos and video to come, Patience!
At this point we got paper umbrellas, a few decorated donations boxes, and proceeded to parade down Samsen Rd, around Rambuttri and Khao Sarn collecting change and baht notes. Smiles, Sawadees, Khap Khun Kas, smile, photo, etc, repeat.
I have to say, more Thai people opened their wallets than foreigners. I realize it’s intimidating to be approached by someone collecting money. I realize many foreigners are used to scammers in Thailand. But, I think you can have the decency to be polite about declining. Especially if you can afford to sit on Khao Sarn Rd and drink a 100 baht beer when you’re fussing about a 20 baht note.
One incident in particular I felt I couldn’t keep to myself. A trio of Americans were sitting, a 20 baht note sitting under a beer, arguing over who would donate. One of the men said “Well we live here and have to take the brunt of the flood just like everybody else, you’re just a tourist, so you donate.” I looked him straight in the eye and said “I live here too.” “Oh yeah?” as if they don’t believe me. So then the other guys chimes in “So where is the money going?”
“It’s going towards food and water.”
“No but who is it going to?”
“Mai Kaidee is organizing that.”
I wish I’d had the definite answers to those questions; because I understand being leery of how NGO money or aid is distributed. But it doesn’t excuse the other guys’ attitude.
Thankfully, our stop at the Irish Pub yielded the praise of another fellow American, which brought some levity back to the situation.
We got to the end of the road, counted up the money and did some more posing, smiling and so forth. Oh I’m going to be interviewed? Ok then. Thankfully I did not use what Liz has referred to as my “I’m talking to foreigners voice,” that I’ve apparently cultivated since living in Thailand and have not always truly been cognizant of. There’s a fine line between making sure you’re understood and coming off as slightly condescending, and it’s a line I tread poorly at times it seems.
We raised over 9,000 baht, which is over $300 USD, in an hour. Mai Kaidee’s being a restaurant, of course they’re using that money to supply food and water to flood victims, probably a lot of food they cook themselves.
In any case, we got all dolled up in traditional Thai dress, paraded around one of the most touristy places in Bangkok, raised money for flood victims, and oh yeah, we’re going to be on Thai television.
And that’s the first half of the story…
On our way home, we hit a patch of monsoon that required seeking shelter. A Thai family on one of the sois leading to my apartment motioned us over. We had chosen a skinny awning across the street to stand under. They pulled up stools and let us sit. Then we moved inside to watch Tom and Jerry with the family, as father and son both played on smart phones. Grandfather was the one ushering us in and caring for us silly farangs in the rain. They gave us Whiskey sodas, traditional Thai style, and samples of their home cooking. Turns out, they’ve had a family restaurant business for over 40 years. The home cooked soup hit the spot, definitely family recipe, and I’ll be making a point to get home from work early enough to actually have it once in awhile. The two boys of the household came over and politely gave their wais, as we are older than they are. The whole experience was so welcoming and generous, it reminded me that my initial experiences here were tainted of Khao Sarn jadedness and a general disconnect from both America and Thailand. It reminded me about why I came here, and why I’m not ready to leave. More to come, flood preparations and a few other things have cropped up in place of much of what I’ve been alluding to.
A couple days back, right before going super hiso at the mega malls, we stopped for lunch at a vegetarian restaurant and cooking school by the name of Mai Kaidee’s. You might have heard of it, Lonely Planet raves about it and it’s been on Thai TV. Heck even Dominic Monaghan from the TV show Lost has studied at Mai Kaidee’s cooking school. We walked into the restaurant, stepping over sandbags and other barricades to ask if it was in fact open. We were immediately roped into a traditional Thai dance with the cooking class that was wrapping up.
We dined, and chatted with Sommay, who goes by May or Mai for short, and she asked us if we were free Friday night. She was planning a fundraiser for flood victims. What was the plan? Get dressed up in traditional Thai dress and hit the campaign trail around Khao Sarn Rd. We’re in.
I’d like to think that I’m a philanthropic person, but I have to admit that I have my limits. So getting all dressed up (which is fun) to collect donations? Yes, I can do that.
We got to the restaurant a bit early, around 3pm, so we could eat before our 3:30pm call time. I’m allowed to use the term call time, there were cameramen filming us adjusting our bras. I hope that part does not air. Several people helped wrap us up in Thai garments, adorned us with Thai jewelry, did my hair and then helped me finish the makeup I started. Oh my goodness, did I have the best hair. Photos and video to come, Patience!
At this point we got paper umbrellas, a few decorated donations boxes, and proceeded to parade down Samsen Rd, around Rambuttri and Khao Sarn collecting change and baht notes. Smiles, Sawadees, Khap Khun Kas, smile, photo, etc, repeat.
I have to say, more Thai people opened their wallets than foreigners. I realize it’s intimidating to be approached by someone collecting money. I realize many foreigners are used to scammers in Thailand. But, I think you can have the decency to be polite about declining. Especially if you can afford to sit on Khao Sarn Rd and drink a 100 baht beer when you’re fussing about a 20 baht note.
One incident in particular I felt I couldn’t keep to myself. A trio of Americans were sitting, a 20 baht note sitting under a beer, arguing over who would donate. One of the men said “Well we live here and have to take the brunt of the flood just like everybody else, you’re just a tourist, so you donate.” I looked him straight in the eye and said “I live here too.” “Oh yeah?” as if they don’t believe me. So then the other guys chimes in “So where is the money going?”
“It’s going towards food and water.”
“No but who is it going to?”
“Mai Kaidee is organizing that.”
I wish I’d had the definite answers to those questions; because I understand being leery of how NGO money or aid is distributed. But it doesn’t excuse the other guys’ attitude.
Thankfully, our stop at the Irish Pub yielded the praise of another fellow American, which brought some levity back to the situation.
We got to the end of the road, counted up the money and did some more posing, smiling and so forth. Oh I’m going to be interviewed? Ok then. Thankfully I did not use what Liz has referred to as my “I’m talking to foreigners voice,” that I’ve apparently cultivated since living in Thailand and have not always truly been cognizant of. There’s a fine line between making sure you’re understood and coming off as slightly condescending, and it’s a line I tread poorly at times it seems.
We raised over 9,000 baht, which is over $300 USD, in an hour. Mai Kaidee’s being a restaurant, of course they’re using that money to supply food and water to flood victims, probably a lot of food they cook themselves.
In any case, we got all dolled up in traditional Thai dress, paraded around one of the most touristy places in Bangkok, raised money for flood victims, and oh yeah, we’re going to be on Thai television.
And that’s the first half of the story…
On our way home, we hit a patch of monsoon that required seeking shelter. A Thai family on one of the sois leading to my apartment motioned us over. We had chosen a skinny awning across the street to stand under. They pulled up stools and let us sit. Then we moved inside to watch Tom and Jerry with the family, as father and son both played on smart phones. Grandfather was the one ushering us in and caring for us silly farangs in the rain. They gave us Whiskey sodas, traditional Thai style, and samples of their home cooking. Turns out, they’ve had a family restaurant business for over 40 years. The home cooked soup hit the spot, definitely family recipe, and I’ll be making a point to get home from work early enough to actually have it once in awhile. The two boys of the household came over and politely gave their wais, as we are older than they are. The whole experience was so welcoming and generous, it reminded me that my initial experiences here were tainted of Khao Sarn jadedness and a general disconnect from both America and Thailand. It reminded me about why I came here, and why I’m not ready to leave. More to come, flood preparations and a few other things have cropped up in place of much of what I’ve been alluding to.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Developed World Really meets Developing World
So dear friends, it’s been awhile. As you may or may not have gathered, a third of the country I am an expatriate in is underwater of varying degrees. Over one hundred industrial plants, many of them Japanese, are underwater, several of them will be completely unrecoverable. Not only is that a major blow to industry, it’s put a lot of Thais out of work and is going to hit the Thai economy really, really hard when all the damage is tallied up, especially as companies relocate to drier pastures.
The flooding began in July. Monsoon rains occur every year. Yes, we’ve had more rain this year, but there is so, so much more to it than that. So much more that I could write a doctoral thesis about it, but I’m really not that committed to the subject and I do enjoy this country enough that I want to be able to return. Instead of speculating or delving too deep into politics, allow me to tell you about my day, because it was ridiculous, and those make the best stories.
This morning my dear friend Liz, visiting from California, and I got up with the mission of finding bottled water and other staples. I have photos of the empty shelves at my 7/11. Updating photos has gotten pushed so far back, well, it’s just going to have to wait. So, mission for breakfast and water. We enjoyed western food at Ricky’s, a restaurant that wants to be Mexican, has Chinese décor and serves up Western breakfast. The owner was running out of supplies, and it going back home tomorrow because her mother is worried. With food supplies running low for the kitchen, why run a restaurant business in a semi flooded area any way?
After breakfast we noticed a truck unloading at 7/11. “Dude! Seven’s got a delivery, and they’ve got water bottles!” Liz and I make a beeline along with the rest of the mad dash. We score quite well. Eighteen 1-liters, and a smaller pack of ½ liter bottles. We schlep our booty home.
Now here’s where things get interesting. We discussed buying books to take to the flood victims’ makeshift classroom my colleague set up; but we didn’t get to that yet. Instead we head for Siam Paragon, because Liz had yet to see that, and after our slightly shaky ferry boat experiences going to and from Koh Samet, we needed some retail therapy. So we hailed a cab (the streets by us were dry at this point, unlike last night, by the way) and went to the mall. I showed off Gourmet Mart. I showed off Kinokuniya. And here’s where our real departure from the reality of the flood crisis all around us comes in.
We went upstairs, and I began the first session of having my underarm hair laser treated, while Liz got a manicure with Chanel nail polish. Yes, go ahead and read that line again. I could sit here and justify myself for a long time, and I will in fact mention the pain and the tech telling me she’d never had to turn the laser up that high before, “for Thai people lower number ok.” I did appreciate she just called to make sure the redness has faded. But really, I decided of all the things I’d throw money at, avoiding the pain of ingrown armpit hair is a noble goal. And it’s been a problem since age 14. OK, I did a little justifying there.
We then proceeded back downstairs, ate sushi bento sets, and stocked up on provisions in Gourmet Mart. The Pocari Sweat we’d double checked was available prior to our beauty pampering had magically disappeared and been restocked with the generic stuff. Those bastards! Right, flood crisis, it’s my own fault my underarms are throbbing, and I’m a spoiled white girl.
Rubber shoes were such a good investment. At this point, we’ve got to go back to spot where my second cell phone was stolen and see if we can persuade anyone to take us back to flood zone, as we’ve discovered my area turns into at night, like a werewolf or something. I agree to the exorbitant 200 baht tuk-tuk fee, because I’ve stood waiting for anyone to take me at that junction for over an hour and a half in normal weather. He balks at the barricades and doesn’t understand my directions to go around, which, granted I really should learn in Thai…so then we catch a bus, as police direct traffic through the barricade any way, and hoofed it in ankle to mid calf deep water until we hit a dry portion of Soi 4, and then back through more water by my apartment. The tailors always hawking suits and dresses offered to make us waterproof dresses. It was some much needed levity for all of us.
And then we came home, where I took a beer out of the fridge to make room for water, Liz started playing Civ on her iPhone, and I began composing this blog post while drinking said beer.
Welcome to my day of privilege and deprivation clash.
The flooding began in July. Monsoon rains occur every year. Yes, we’ve had more rain this year, but there is so, so much more to it than that. So much more that I could write a doctoral thesis about it, but I’m really not that committed to the subject and I do enjoy this country enough that I want to be able to return. Instead of speculating or delving too deep into politics, allow me to tell you about my day, because it was ridiculous, and those make the best stories.
This morning my dear friend Liz, visiting from California, and I got up with the mission of finding bottled water and other staples. I have photos of the empty shelves at my 7/11. Updating photos has gotten pushed so far back, well, it’s just going to have to wait. So, mission for breakfast and water. We enjoyed western food at Ricky’s, a restaurant that wants to be Mexican, has Chinese décor and serves up Western breakfast. The owner was running out of supplies, and it going back home tomorrow because her mother is worried. With food supplies running low for the kitchen, why run a restaurant business in a semi flooded area any way?
After breakfast we noticed a truck unloading at 7/11. “Dude! Seven’s got a delivery, and they’ve got water bottles!” Liz and I make a beeline along with the rest of the mad dash. We score quite well. Eighteen 1-liters, and a smaller pack of ½ liter bottles. We schlep our booty home.
Now here’s where things get interesting. We discussed buying books to take to the flood victims’ makeshift classroom my colleague set up; but we didn’t get to that yet. Instead we head for Siam Paragon, because Liz had yet to see that, and after our slightly shaky ferry boat experiences going to and from Koh Samet, we needed some retail therapy. So we hailed a cab (the streets by us were dry at this point, unlike last night, by the way) and went to the mall. I showed off Gourmet Mart. I showed off Kinokuniya. And here’s where our real departure from the reality of the flood crisis all around us comes in.
We went upstairs, and I began the first session of having my underarm hair laser treated, while Liz got a manicure with Chanel nail polish. Yes, go ahead and read that line again. I could sit here and justify myself for a long time, and I will in fact mention the pain and the tech telling me she’d never had to turn the laser up that high before, “for Thai people lower number ok.” I did appreciate she just called to make sure the redness has faded. But really, I decided of all the things I’d throw money at, avoiding the pain of ingrown armpit hair is a noble goal. And it’s been a problem since age 14. OK, I did a little justifying there.
We then proceeded back downstairs, ate sushi bento sets, and stocked up on provisions in Gourmet Mart. The Pocari Sweat we’d double checked was available prior to our beauty pampering had magically disappeared and been restocked with the generic stuff. Those bastards! Right, flood crisis, it’s my own fault my underarms are throbbing, and I’m a spoiled white girl.
Rubber shoes were such a good investment. At this point, we’ve got to go back to spot where my second cell phone was stolen and see if we can persuade anyone to take us back to flood zone, as we’ve discovered my area turns into at night, like a werewolf or something. I agree to the exorbitant 200 baht tuk-tuk fee, because I’ve stood waiting for anyone to take me at that junction for over an hour and a half in normal weather. He balks at the barricades and doesn’t understand my directions to go around, which, granted I really should learn in Thai…so then we catch a bus, as police direct traffic through the barricade any way, and hoofed it in ankle to mid calf deep water until we hit a dry portion of Soi 4, and then back through more water by my apartment. The tailors always hawking suits and dresses offered to make us waterproof dresses. It was some much needed levity for all of us.
And then we came home, where I took a beer out of the fridge to make room for water, Liz started playing Civ on her iPhone, and I began composing this blog post while drinking said beer.
Welcome to my day of privilege and deprivation clash.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Clearly My Priorities Are Out of Line
Today my boss approached me. Uh-oh, what’s up…
“Jenny? Why didn’t you tell me when crow attack you?”
Wait what?
“Gen told me about crow attack you.”
“Yeah it happened in the park last week.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. One attacked me last semester right outside of school too.”
“Wha? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I told the other teachers. I was wearing shiny earrings that time though.”
“I will take you to temple to buy cage bird. Set it free. Make merit. Crow is bad luck you know? Very unlucky for you.”
Some things are universal.
So after lunch, my boss and I walked out to the bus stop under her sun umbrella. In classic elder/younger form she paid for my bus fare. We got off and walked to a wat that’s so near my apartment I surely should have visited it by now, but you know, priorities.
“When I hear about your mobile phone I think ok now. The bad luck ok now.” So, the bad omen of the crow was accounted for with the theft of my mobile phone. Well glad that’s cleared up.
My colleague had his motorbike stolen this weekend. What on earth was his portend?
We approached the temple and my boss purchased two strands of jasmine and marigold flowers with wrapping paper ribbon bows. I love the cat napping peacefully between the various donation boxes, you can choose whether your donation goes to the building, scholarships, the water and electricity bill, etc., though all marked in Thai, us farang just have to guess without a guide.
“Are you Christian or Buddhism?” my boss queries.
I shrug my shoulders, though I appreciate her concern.
“Ok you can.”
We each donate ten baht for the candle, joss sticks and gold leaf.
I follow her lead to light the candle, place it among the others, light the joss sticks and hold them between prayerful hands kneeling in front of the gold leafed Buddha.
My boss quickly rescues my slips of paper and gold leaf, which I’d left in between the lit joss sticks not knowing what they were. I add my gold leaf to the Buddha and toss the paper. We kneel for Buddha one more time.
We go over to a fountain area and engage in what I can only relate to as baptism, sprinkling water on our heads and over our shoulders to rid ourselves of bad luck. I’m reminded yet again of the link between Buddhism and Christianity.
We enter a quiet room and meditate for a couple of minutes.
Then we head to the main temple and pay our respects there. Mind you, we’ve had to remove and replace our shoes more times than I’ve kept count by now.
Then we revisit the donation boxes and part with a few baht.
My boss tries one last time in vain to get us a caged bird to release, but ‘mai me’ today. I assure her it’ll be ok.
We take a taxi back. I find out my boss doesn’t like green and yellow or plain yellow taxis. She believes their drivers are rude. She also mentions they support the yellow shirts. But, blue taxis ok and pink taxis are polite. I decide not to relay my experience in a pink taxi to my boss…
My boss mentions she joined the red shirt rally yesterday marking five years since the original coup overthrowing Voldemorte. I mean, Thaksin. Same difference at this point. She also brings up my colleague’s motorcycle theft, and reminds me not to ride taxis by myself after dark unless it’s a friend, like James (colleague whose bike was stolen, so I don’t know how that works).
“Like Loy Krathong last year!”
“Oh yeah, that. But it was fun!” I don’t protest any more than this and solemnly agree “ok.”
I’m totally lying, but we knew that.
So, we made merit to ward off the bad luck from the crow. I replaced my mobile phone yesterday with the next to cheapest model I could find. And I was able to get another purple ninja wrist strap, just because, gotta have some flare you know?
Here’s to warding off more crows and pick pockets. Though I suppose I still have to get back to work.
“Jenny? Why didn’t you tell me when crow attack you?”
Wait what?
“Gen told me about crow attack you.”
“Yeah it happened in the park last week.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. One attacked me last semester right outside of school too.”
“Wha? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I told the other teachers. I was wearing shiny earrings that time though.”
“I will take you to temple to buy cage bird. Set it free. Make merit. Crow is bad luck you know? Very unlucky for you.”
Some things are universal.
So after lunch, my boss and I walked out to the bus stop under her sun umbrella. In classic elder/younger form she paid for my bus fare. We got off and walked to a wat that’s so near my apartment I surely should have visited it by now, but you know, priorities.
“When I hear about your mobile phone I think ok now. The bad luck ok now.” So, the bad omen of the crow was accounted for with the theft of my mobile phone. Well glad that’s cleared up.
My colleague had his motorbike stolen this weekend. What on earth was his portend?
We approached the temple and my boss purchased two strands of jasmine and marigold flowers with wrapping paper ribbon bows. I love the cat napping peacefully between the various donation boxes, you can choose whether your donation goes to the building, scholarships, the water and electricity bill, etc., though all marked in Thai, us farang just have to guess without a guide.
“Are you Christian or Buddhism?” my boss queries.
I shrug my shoulders, though I appreciate her concern.
“Ok you can.”
We each donate ten baht for the candle, joss sticks and gold leaf.
I follow her lead to light the candle, place it among the others, light the joss sticks and hold them between prayerful hands kneeling in front of the gold leafed Buddha.
My boss quickly rescues my slips of paper and gold leaf, which I’d left in between the lit joss sticks not knowing what they were. I add my gold leaf to the Buddha and toss the paper. We kneel for Buddha one more time.
We go over to a fountain area and engage in what I can only relate to as baptism, sprinkling water on our heads and over our shoulders to rid ourselves of bad luck. I’m reminded yet again of the link between Buddhism and Christianity.
We enter a quiet room and meditate for a couple of minutes.
Then we head to the main temple and pay our respects there. Mind you, we’ve had to remove and replace our shoes more times than I’ve kept count by now.
Then we revisit the donation boxes and part with a few baht.
My boss tries one last time in vain to get us a caged bird to release, but ‘mai me’ today. I assure her it’ll be ok.
We take a taxi back. I find out my boss doesn’t like green and yellow or plain yellow taxis. She believes their drivers are rude. She also mentions they support the yellow shirts. But, blue taxis ok and pink taxis are polite. I decide not to relay my experience in a pink taxi to my boss…
My boss mentions she joined the red shirt rally yesterday marking five years since the original coup overthrowing Voldemorte. I mean, Thaksin. Same difference at this point. She also brings up my colleague’s motorcycle theft, and reminds me not to ride taxis by myself after dark unless it’s a friend, like James (colleague whose bike was stolen, so I don’t know how that works).
“Like Loy Krathong last year!”
“Oh yeah, that. But it was fun!” I don’t protest any more than this and solemnly agree “ok.”
I’m totally lying, but we knew that.
So, we made merit to ward off the bad luck from the crow. I replaced my mobile phone yesterday with the next to cheapest model I could find. And I was able to get another purple ninja wrist strap, just because, gotta have some flare you know?
Here’s to warding off more crows and pick pockets. Though I suppose I still have to get back to work.
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