Excuses, Excuses

Just to give you a glimpse. Here are the top five excuses for why my students were sorely unable to come to class today. And by today I mean today. Unlike in Thailand where today could really mean any day throughout the history of time.

5. "Teachhhaaaa I was in the bed!"

My response: what bed?

4. "Teeaaacchhhhhhaaaaaa high blood pressure!!!!!"

Does that mean me or you? Because I'm certain I have it now.

3. "Teachaaa badmitton final!"

Is that a real thing?

2. "Teachhhhha I went to hospital to wash my eye."

Again, is that something that really happens?

and drum roll please....the number one excuse from today Wednesday January 27th, 2010.

1. "Teachhhhhaaaaa I went with her to hospital to wash her eye!"

And there you have it.

Grow Up

Am I hardening in my old age? Is it normal for a 22 year girl to spend nights at home listening to Michael Buble? Is it alright that I'm ready for bed at 10 o'clock and enjoy doing things like sorting my wash? Is it odd that when Selina was visiting she repeatedly mistook my normal clothes for my "gym" clothes? And is it weird that I am doing all of this in Thailand?

It is remarkable how much I feel like I have aged in the last 8 months. In which sense do I mean? Wrinkles and night cream? Or fine wine and cheese. Hard to say. What I do know is that things that once sent me running for the door hardly cause me to bat an eyelash now. While things for which I used to have an amused tolerance now cause involuntary face making. That and I regrettably carry out my days in different variations of the same oversized pants.

A few fears which have gone to the wayside in the last 8 months: airplanes, lonliness, boredom, fashion faux pas. Sure I still hate airplanes but hyperventalating into a paper bag won't get me to Laos. Sure loneliness is scary. But eating a nice meal alone is sometimes just what I need. And the oppressive heat, the unbelievable filth with which my body is caked in after a day of simple life, sends thoughts of skinny jeans and "going out tops" running for the hills.

It took every single piece of my courage to make the choice to move here. I did not like airplanes. I was scared to be away from home. I did not want to leave my friends. I didn't know what to expect. In short, I just didn't want to come. But now as I sit safely in my Chiang Mai home, snuggled cozily into size 12 shorts and an old man t, I am so thankful that I did. And perhaps my new hardness has caused a completely insensitive buckeling under the presence of a certain type of softness.

My new pet peeves center around my daily struggle with fragility, apathy, disinterest. There are only so many times left in my being that I can excuse a person to skip class in order to go to the hospital under the pretense of, "it rained yesterday." Or, "pain in hand." I'm sure many of us have been in situations where it rained yesterday and we currently have a pain in our hand. I just ask you all to make sure that those are not the reasons you cancel your Wednesday.

Last June I was praying for an excuse to avoid Thailand. Rain, pain in hand. But my hands were fine and the day I left it did not rain. If 8 absences at Payap means you cannot take the final exam, I hate to think what 8 months of sitting at home and afraid would have caused me to miss.

Dr. Schmocter

Going to the Doctor in Chiang Mai is always a jolt to the senses. Experience one, if you recall, I was asked by my office to get a general check up at the hospital. "Hospital" is a term to be loosely used when describing the scene of bleeding people on guernies lying in the lobby. Experience two involved a trip to another hospital when I was feeling ill. All of my test results were broadcasted, through what may as well have been a megaphone, to all the eager eared listeners in the waiting room.

Today I tried a clinic on for size. I have a lump in my cheek. Which to a hypochondriac like myself means 1 of about 3 things. Cancer. A rapidly growing benign tumor which will swallow my entire cheek within a matter of seconds. Or the beginnings of some little known skin disease which will consequently be named after me and medical students from around the world will come to analyze me in my home prodding at my cheek with interest and disgust. After nights of WedMD-ing until the wee hours and reading online chatroom convos between people like "cheek doc" and "nastygirl7" I decided a medical professional might be my best bet.

The clinic was clean. There were mod couches and no dismembered bodies in the waiting room. The clocks were functioning and there were no used needles laying on top of the required paperwork. In fact when I entered the receptionist said, "may I help you?" She said that! In English! "May I help you?" The sweetest words I've ever heard.

A nice Indian/Thai man looked at my cheek. Hardened nerve endings were the diagnoses and a cream was given to me. It may be a placebo but sugar tablets and lotion in medical containers work miracles on the hypochondriatic mind.

So thank you Chiang Mai for having this doctor to soothe a worried girls woes. Thank you for not forcing me back into the cavernous pits of the city hospital. And even though my friendly doctor revealed my diagnoses to a room full of wide-eyed listeners I was happy that he did so in clear, unbroken English.

Spelling Bees

Yesterday was English Day at Payap. A day for students to practice their English skills through games and general merriment. Aka yet another excuse for people to do things like where pants to work and have fine American delicacies such as mashed potatos in a styrafoam cup covered in chili sauce. I for one was designated as one of the ladies of the Spelling Bee (or "Spelling Bees" as it was donned.) We three lonesome Western teachers in the department were honored with such duties based on our fine mastery of English pronounciation.

The Bee proved much more popular than I could have hoped for. Round One. First Word: "Meal." This knocked out about 90% of the contestants. Things progressed from there. There was a heated fight over the word "separate" as well as cries of shock and seeming pain when we announced such words as "receptionist" and "embarrassing." The most important round of the day (grand prize = scrabble) was won on the word "noticeable." And it was won by my student! His name is Mac, or Max, or Mc. I can never keep up.

Travel Log

Just when you think Asia has sailed smoothly into the world of modern travel, when you think the jet fleets here rival those of any American company, when you are convinced you are well-versed in the art of taxi bargaining and inter-Thai connections...you take another trip.

Selina and I went to Koh Lanta last weekend. Beautiful beaches, coral reefs for days, lush mountains and seaside grub. Idyllic and serenly Thai our days were spent seashell collecting and mosquito swatting. The trip back to Chiang Mai from this southern destination would take 8 different means of transportation in order to traverse the few hundred miles. This we knew. But who could have filled in the details?

To get back to the mainland from Koh Lanta involves two ferries. One to Koh Phi Phi and then a connecting ferry to the mainland of Phuket. We boarded our first ferry. Half sunken and water logged yet spacious and functional. We assumed a connecting ferry in Koh Phi Phi meant "a connecting ferry in Koh Phi Phi." Instead what would have been more accurate is "a connecting ferry about a mile and a half off shore from Koh Phi Phi." We felt our ferry smash against what could have been in iceberg under different circumstances. Instead it was our connection. "Oh they're saving time!" we thought, as the cigarette infused Thai skippers tied our crafts together and we jumped from one to the other in the middle of the rocky sea. The connecting ferry was ladden with people, which ultimately made it clear that this midsea connection was in fact only a means to load about 100 more people than capacity onto this half submerged craft. Inside the cabin looked like some sort of refugee camp. Naked babies cried in the arms of sunburnt women and about 3 bodies to every seat, water bottles rolling around on the floors. I decided that I wanted to be on the deck when the boat sank so as to have a better chance of survival. So there I sat. Planning escape routes and pointing out the nearest land points as we bubbled our way to Phuket. Making it safely, but just.

Our flight back to Chiang Mai was on a craft probably first flown by the Wright Brothers. There was a blade slot in the bathroom, and the faint smell of the 1950's in the air. Once again we made it, but I certainly held my breath for that one.

But who is to say that these modes are wrong? Perhaps my purified water and seatbelt upbringing needed a firm jostling. Perhaps the antiquity and shoddiness of these crafts is something I should learn to embrace and expect. Although the Thai man next to me chatting on his bluetooth midflight reminded me that modernity is out there. It just seems that they might be using it in the wrong places.

Is that you?

The class I teach for the Chinese students is organized like so: I was to teach one section of the students for half of the semester and then switch with another teacher midway through. Today we made the switch. While it was sad to wave goodbye to my antiquated Darolina's and female Albert's it was with amusement and fondness that I met the next crop of Chinese. As I came to the door there was the mandatory gasp from the classroom as they realized that their new teacher was a) not Asian b) American! c) Under the age of 100. It was I who gasped next however as they introduced themselves to me. Now instead of the Herbert's and Herb's I have a room full of dopplegangers of my American life. Students whose English nicknames echo my nearest and dearest and most uncommonly named from home. On paper the new crop of Chinese names to learn are names already I know all too well.

Is that you Sonya? Sleepaway camp pal and Princeton compatriote. Oh no, it's just my new student Sonya Xiongling from Hunan Province. And Selina! My lifelong friend and bosom buddy....here turned into a small Chinese girl with thick bangs. "Annie," I read from the roster thinking of my beautiful roomate and darling friend, but I look up to see a skinny Chinese girl with a thick headband. "Oliver?" But no love interest here. Just a gangly boy with lens-less glasses and a skinny tie. "Andy?" My childhood babsitter flashes to mind, but no it's only Andy Shaoqin an adorable girl from China's south. Naturally scattered in are the requisite Hebe's and Happy's but it is nice to finally stand in front of a room full of people I know, even if only just on paper.

2010

After a 2 week Asian hiatus I have returned, now with the gueststars of Selina and her boyfriend Mason. The holidays in Switzerland were my first forray into the West since June and oh the succulent delicacies I have forgotten I even missed. Cheese, breads, toilet paper in bathrooms, napkins on tables, tap water and edible meats. The sweet sweet Western world.

But here I am back in my Eastern home relishing the bits of all that is uniquely Thailand. Already in only the last 24 hours I have been approached after leaving the bathroom stall by another teacher who asked me if I was "able to perform in there." Have been told by a 24 year old student that his New Years Resolution is to be "a good boy." And have been laughed at by my old woman landlady for my mere existence.

It's good to be back.