Thailand does Doug

Classroom Emergency

2007-11-27T23:05:00.000-08:00

Attention Grabber:
Have you ever seen a group of 9 year olds huddled over their desks gleefully drawing pictures of murder and mayhem? I have. Not only have I seen it, but I instructed them to do it.

Introduction, Set Up and First Digression:
Now in my lifetime I have see a lot of Asians (What? Can't I say that. Shoot, I eat rice five meals a day). There is one thing that I simply must say about Asian people. No matter what anyone tells you, they make the cutest kids. I mean these are seriously cute kids, like puppy bulldog in a pink tutu cute, like baby monkey wearing a tuxedo cute, like baby monkey in a tuxedo riding a puppy bulldog wearing a pink tutu waving a flag with a picture of a baby chicken on it cute. Well, maybe not that cute, but still. My students (I teach English in Thailand by the way) have these big brown eyes and puffy cheeks that make you understand why grandmas in movies (real life too?) are possessed by the need to pinch cheeks. I honestly believe that when Thai parents are looking at the monitor of their pea sized fetus in the doctors office, the gynaecologist whispers to them.

"Do you see that there? Yeah, that. That little flicker is your baby's heartbeat. Oh yeah and those are her cheeks and eyes."

Back to Story Fake Out and Second Digression:
Anyway these kids are cute...back to the story. Well, not quite yet, I must mention one student named "L", yes "L". Maybe it's spelled differently in Thai but that is certainly how you pronounce it. He is easily my most misbehaved student and just as easily my favorite. He is like a six year old Asian Elvis Presley mixed with a St. Bernard. Whenever, I raise my voice in an attempt to stop him from throwing his body into the wall, a harmless yet distracting behavior, he does not cower in fear. He actually has two responses. One, is to bounce rapidly on his tiptoes with his fingers pointed to the sky with his hip shaking (The Elvis allusion) . His other move is to do a very similar dance(?) but flat on his back. This move resembles a very cute seizure. But, unfortunately "L" is in grade one and grade one is not part of the story. So, lets skip ahead to the last class of the day.

Story:
The last class of the day is Health Conversation Class. It is a conversation class about health with a textbook from Singapore. The class is somewhat difficult to teach due to the fact that the textbook is 20 pages long with half of it focusing on Singapore(eg. Name seven of Singapore's crucial water reservoirs? The kids could only name three. Idiots.). The other half focuses on Menstruation, which seems age inappropriate because my students are nine years old and only one of six of them is a girl. Now that I think of it the only good thing about the book is that its made of paper. Needless to say I am constantly searching for material to teach.

On that fateful day I decided I would use a page in the book that had the students discuss Emergencies. The page had pictures and little boxes to check if it was an emergency. In one of the pictures a girl was choking and in a different one she had merely cut her finger. What we decided was that the common theme was that in an Emergency someone might die. In a non-emergency death will probably not be the outcome.

In order to have the students demonstrate their understanding of what an emergency is I asked them to draw an example of an emergency. I don't know what I was thinking or what I was imagining but I must disclose that their drawings far exceeded my expectations. I sat back for perhaps two minutes to let them work on their drawings and by the time I began to patrol the class and observe their progress I realized that I may have made a small mistake. The first drawing was of someone who had just been hit by a bus. This was the least violent of all the drawings. I realised at that moment that these children are just as inundated with violent culture as American children, maybe more. In Thailand they will blur out a cigarette or a breast but a group of zombies feeding on a screaming person is common entertainment for a family dinner.

The next drawing was of the least creative uses of a machine gun. But, the final and most horrific example of my poor choice of assignments was surprising and sad and funny all at once. At first it appeared to be a man on fire, no not the Denzel variety but really just a man who was standing in flames. I thought, OK, a little graphic perhaps but a fire is a good example of an emergency. But, before I could say, "Guacamole filled waterballoons!" I realised what had caused the fire. This students idea of an emergency was a smiling stick figure holding a remote controlled detonator that clearly had been detonated.

The moral of the story:
The moral of the story is that if you want a group of nine year olds to draw something socially acceptable then you better give them some guidelines. Otherwise they will follow your directions literally. After all, if you saw a burning three fingered stick figure with a perfectly circular torso then, despite his smile, you wouldn't need a six year old to tell you it was an emergency.

Ode to my Traffic Fighter

2006-12-11T23:59:00.000-08:00

If your dog eats an entire wheel of cheese you should not be mad you should be impressed. If you are me and your stuck in world reknown Bangkok traffic on a Friday night you are not mad you are livid. Luckily, I had someone on my side.

Traffic in Bangkok is special because there are only six lanes painted on the highway but drivers have discovered that if you ignore the lanes you can fit between 9 and 11 lanes depending on the width of cars and the amount of knowledge each driver has about the exact specifications of their vehicle.

My driver was the finest on the road. He drove our fifteen passenger van like it was a sedan. He drove that sedan like it was a motorcyle that he drove like a small bicycle. What I mean to say is he fit this thing through some incredibly small openings. Even though he wore a Spiderman shirt he reminded me more of Bobby Fisher, seeing the traffic evolve tens of moves ahead. He knew when to relax and when to perk up. Using his horn gently but assertively he moved through the stand still with ease and when I glanced at his reflection he looked confident and even happy that he had this slight challenge facing him. I closed my eyes and meditated on how he became so skilled. In an instant the truth washed over me like a waterfall of truthiness.

In his past life he had been a bird. A traveler who was able to examine traffic patterns from the sky. A connoisseur of people congetsion he flew to Bombay, Los Angelos and Rome studying the worlds most overpopulated roads. It was when he arrived in Bangkok though that he met his true calling and the rest of his reincarnations were history. He was where he was meant to be.

I know that my subtle commentary has not even skimmed the surface of the talent which my driver possessed so let me just say this: If I had been driving by the time we got there we would still be driving.

Tiger Man

2006-11-20T20:25:00.000-08:00

Read This in Black and White

2006-11-12T22:15:00.000-08:00

Boarded the bus on a crisp winter day as the sun was setting on 2006. "Bangkok", I told the driver and he nodded approvingly, or disapprovingly perhaps. As I settled into my seat and looked out my window I sighed and thought to myself, "Another weekend, God only knows what this one has in store for me."
As the bus door opened on the Southern bus terminal I shuddered at the scene outside. Everything was normal. Restaurants selling cheap noodles, vendors hawking watches that were only as real as you believe they are, and me. A shadow of a man blending into the crowd like Liberace at the Republican National Convention. I met my associates there, my partners in travel, my entourage in excursion. My friends if you want to get sappy about it. But I don't.
Another bus. Everyone the same. A kareoke machine that never gets sung on and the sad lonely singer projected onto the screen alone. No one to join him in his cheesy verses that scroll along the bottom of the monitor. "A tragedy", I say under my breath. But no one hears. Another Bus.
The next morning we rise early. Drinking coffee and eating banana pancakes is the only way to get my associates to speak to eachother. Saturday, and we have business to take care of. We hail a Songtow and hop in. The Songtow is a pick-up truck with a roof and benches that face eachother. As the sun beats down and a gentle breeze blows through my hair I examine the life I chose, or rather the life that chose me.
Time to work. Some driplets of sweat form on my brow as I climb. But they don't last long. Plunging into the pool all memory of buses and crowds disapear and all I hear is the waterfall dropping the life giving liquid above my head. I swim and play seriously, intensely. This was my weekend and it was time to work.

Camping. Shooting stars. A little whiskey and a lot of laughs.

Another early morning because it's sunday and time is experience. Our songtow returns and we climb in headed for a known destination with unknown contents.
"Hand your camera to the tiger boy and never walk in front of the tiger. Keep your hand on the tiger at all times." Said the man wrapped in a orange sheet. He is barefoot and calm. Even though we have no idea who this man is the lurking beasts seem to know and that is good enough for me. It has to be. Walking slowly but surely next to this cat is a surreal feeling. His fur his soft and smooth but underneath his muscles are iron. Although he steps softly his feet land heavy on the ground under the weight of his dominent physique. He fears no man. He has been offered the chance to live with them peacefully and so far that seems to be the decision he has chosen.
The bus home. It's dark I close my eyes in an attempt to catch up on the sleep I had denied myself. Before I journey out of the concious I think briefly about the best way to blog about my weekend. "Film Noir style wouldn't work at all," I thought to myself. "It just wouldn't."

Mind your Manners

2006-11-06T23:43:00.000-08:00

keng means strong
nam means water
nam keng means ice water
keng keng means orgasm

Fire Dancer

2006-10-31T21:14:00.000-08:00

My First Island

2006-10-30T20:39:00.000-08:00

Motoring across the Gulf of Thailand headed towards Koh Samet I have what I call a "What the hell am I doing in Thailand?" moment. These moments are a good thing though, not a bad thing. I left my fair city of Petchaburi eight hours earlier and after taking a van to Bangkok, meeting up with a Thai friend and bussing to Ban Phe, there we were speed-boating towards a dimly lit mound rising from the ocean. Not a bad way to start a weekend in the islands.
We opted to be dropped off at the bar that night seeing as it was midnight and after being reunited with the orientation group we had become so close to, Samet immediatly became my home away from my home away from home.
Once there we did everthing one expects to do on an average weekend: swam, tanned, kayaked, ate, drank, watched fire dancers, and practiced hand stands. Koh Samet, although filled with Farang(Westerners) really is everything it is made out to be. Perfect white sand, blue-green water as clear as a glass out of my Grammy's kitchen, and of course bungalows. I don't know why I love bungalows, I don't even really now what the defining charactoristics of a bungalow are. I think maybe it is just the way the word sounds. Bungalow...Sigh...What a tough life I lead.

A Friend at the River Kwai

2006-10-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

Morning Duty

2006-10-24T18:49:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning and at 5:45 and almost beat the rooster to breakfast. I don't know where he lives but that SOB can project. After a quick shower I was on the back of one of my officemates motorbike headed to town. We arrived in a busy downtown market and saw dozens of men draped in orange robes milling about form cart to cart. Actually, I say men but the youngest looked to be no more than 10 years old.
If you ever want to present food to a monk first of all don't say you are feeding them, I made this mistake. Pee' Tew, one of the teachers in my office told me, "You feed a baby or an animal, not a monk." After you know what it is you are doing the steps are easy.
Stop at any cart and purchase a or plates of food (depending on how many monks line up for your offering) that included: a small bowl of rice, a small bag of chicken, a juice drink, some fruit, a flower and a couple sticks of inscence. These Monk packs cost about 5-15 baht or 15-45 cents.
Pour the rice into the monk's bowl and place the rest of the food in the satchel slung over his shoulder. Then place the flower on top of the bowl which he will immediatly grab with his hand. The monks are not allowed to touch you, or you may not be allowed to touch them touch them...I am not sure. Once you have given him the flower you Wai him. This is an action that gives him the respect he deserves. When Wai'ing a monk you put your hands together fingers extending towards the sky and thumbs between your eyes. Then just close your eyes and bow your head. Congratulations you have succesfully given alms.

Good First Impressions

2006-10-22T21:09:00.000-07:00

I have just now arrived in the city where I will be living for the next five months. It is called Phetchaburi (Pet-Boo-Ree) which means "The Diamond City". I just arrived so all I know so far is there are lizards everywhere and I have a mango tree and a banana tree in my backyard. Oh yeah, I have my own two bedroom house...strange.
Orientation was a whirlwind week. I rode an elephant, went bamboo rafting, swam in the River Kwai, saw a Muay Thai Boxing match, learned how to teach english, learned how to speak British, ate seaweed flavored chips(not good), and visited the Grand Palace of Thailand. All in all it was an amazing week and I feel extremely blessed to be here. The Thai people are amazingly kind and welcoming.
The collision here, and it can only be described as a collision, between eastern and western cultures is bizarre and hilarious. At Lumpini park in Bangkok there is a musical performance everynight on a huge stage that is about nine feet high and about the area of half a football field. Everyday at about six the show starts and they play/cover the exact same songs every single night. My favorite part of the show is when they play "My Lumps" by the Black Eyed Peas followed by a techno-version of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" by Bob Dylan. Both songs involve about six back-up dancers and are accompanied by the WWF being projected on a movie screen at the back of the stage. A collision indeed.

Watch Your Step

2006-10-22T20:40:00.000-07:00

When walking around Bangkok you must be careful where you step. The sidewalks are not built on any sort of foundation, they are simply bricks laid on top of the dirt. Therefore when it rains the bricks and dirt move freely and sometimes sink into the earth after a particularly good storm. It was after one such storm, when the raindrops were the size of softballs, that I adventured out of the hotel in search of a bowl of spicy noodle soup(Num Sup). I was not paying attention and I stepped on a particularly soft patch of earth. The mud and bricks made way for my sinking frame and I soon found myself in an underground cavern filled with travellers of all varieties. They had a wonderful community set-up there where everyone shared what little resources there were. They invited me to join them but I declined because I had nurses waiting for me to teach them english. And I am no communist. So I climbed out and found my soup. It burned my mouth.

Dipping Sauces

2006-10-22T20:35:00.000-07:00

So, I am almost there or here depending when you read this. I am sitting in the airport in Tai Pei, Taiwan attempting to make some astute sociological observations about the cultural differences between West and East. So far I have nothing. My first meal on the Asian contenent was a ham and cheese croisant. Oh, I know what you are thinking why fly half way around the world to have a ham and cheese croisant? I will tell you why…the dipping sauce. I opted for the dipping sauce that appeared to have a summary of the history of Taiwan written in charactors I could not understand, however, in English all it said was “Spicy”. I am proud to say that I seem to have passed my first test of Asian cuisine with flying colors. The spicy sauce was as it claimed but no match for my college fare that demanded every morsel of food be doused with some sort of pepper extract.
My traveling day was relatively uneventful. I arrived at the San Diego Airport two hours early which enabled me to catch a shuttle to LAX that replaced my schedualed flight which had been canceled. I find that when travelling a “roll with the punches” attitude is absolutely necessary. So, when I saw the check-in cue I took a deep breath and nothing more. I have not seen a line of this magnitude outside of Disneyland’s Space Mountain (Family nod here) or a Phish show when everyone loses track of time in the lot and ends up missing the first 12 minutes of Runaway Jim(Friends nod here).
I did make my flight of course and this was where my luck started to turn. I ended up in the back row of the plane with two empty seats between my closest fellow passsenger and myself. By wiggling sideways into a sort of mock fetal position I was able to lie down and sleep fairly comfortably. Short people do have some advantages. In your face Randy Newman! The rest of the flight was uneventful other than one wake up call where I found out that my medical training was the most advanced on the flight and had to treat a woman who spoke broken english and was having trouble breathing.
I am off to Thailand in an hour and really have no idea what I am getting myself into. I don’t speak Thai, I don’t know how to teach English, and those two skills seem relatively pertinent to teaching English in Thailand. Well I suppose I will be OK so long as there are more tasty croisant sandwichs and dipping sauce. “Spicy”
Oh yeah, the elderly woman was fine. We put her on an oxygen mask and helped her get comfortable. A medical team met her at the gate.

“The world is like a giant bowl of dipping sauce…sometimes it isn’t labled.”
-Confuscious

(written 10-14-06)