The Changing Heart

The human heart is a fickle thing, swaying to and fro according to circumstances and the vicissitudes of time. One moment it can be passionate, another apathetic, one moment 'in love' and another moment out of it. If we try to find permanence in other fellow humans, we will be disappointed because everyone and everything changes. I realized the other day that the only permanent and unchanging thing in the world is God's love for us.

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?
Jeremiah 17:9

It's been one year...

As I lay in my bed to sleep, my mind kept wandering off to Thailand. Memories from the time I spent there flooded my mind. Even stronger are the pangs of longing for Thailand that seemed strangely familiar until I recalled that the last time I felt these pangs was when I knew I was irrevocably separated from the one I had fallen in love with. Can it be true that those great novelists of the passed who claimed to have "fallen in love" with some foreign land actually meant it? That their falling in love was not a figure of speech but an actual, tangible attachment on par with what we understand as romantic love? 

And then I realized why I had such strong feelings. It has been exactly one year from the day that I left Thailand.

Is a year really that powerful? Do our physical bodies really understand the concept of time and
that 365 days constitute a year? Yet a year has passed and my constant longing for this land that seems so far right now has not dissipated. I was in Thailand for a year on a Fulbright ETA grant and a year seemed too short so I stayed six extra months. It was incredibly hard the first three months to be back in America last year but that made sense; my friend studied abroad in Japan for about seven weeks and it took her about seven days to grieve her leaving of that land. I calculated that since I was in Thailand one and a half years, it will take me exactly 78.26 weeks to get over everything. It has been far longer than that and every single day, I think about Bangkok or Sawankhalok or Chiang Mai and when my cerebration of that loss becomes too much, I express it verbally to anyone in my family who may be around me via recollections of food or memories.   

I miss the feeling of waking up to a warm morning in Bangkok, early enough for the room to remain cool but late enough for the extreme humidity to start seeping in. I miss the ambrosial taste of Thai tea purchased from a hardworking street vendor after I have walked miles in the heat. I miss the long tube of extremely cold air aka the BTS train that recharges me to continue my journey in the cacophony outside. I miss the feeling of going to class everyday to learn a language that I would use immediately after I stepped back outside. I miss setting my mouth on fire with extra chili in my food and making it worse by downing a gulp of green soda.

I miss the freedom of riding my bicycle and taking the long way home just to smell the flowing waters of the Yom river, sometimes pleasantly clean and other times simply fishy. I miss the smell of the rain and the soil after a thunderous storm. I miss walking around town with full assurance that I would run into someone I knew whether it was one of my shy students, a caring teacher, or a concerned parent. I miss the once in a full moon OTOP market with goods for sale from all around Thailand. I miss walking around the night market and buying food from shop owners who I can call friends. I miss buying junk food from Tesco Lotus that I would never even think about buying in the states. 

I miss the sweat pouring down my face even before class begins as I prepare the classroom for my lesson. I miss reading my students' notebooks and realizing how much they've grown already and honored when they would share deeper things about themselves. I miss having students come into the office with just the excuse of wanting to hang out with me. I miss receiving and giving back smiles and wais from any student in my school. I miss working twelve hour days and still having an abundance of energy at the end of the day because I was completely devoted to my students' growths.

These and many more memories flooded my mind tonight. Why are these memories still so potent even after a year, seeking once again to debilitate me as I try to piece my life back together? Thailand has left an indelible mark on my heart and it seems that even an entire year cannot render these memories and feelings any less vivid.

 

Thank you God for all of these wonderful experiences and memories

Miracle in the Flood

I am back in the US now and continuing to get my life back together. However, I wanted to share something amazing that happened during the great flood in Sawankhalok two years ago (that felt weird saying...2 years already?).

A few days before the flood, the whole school was buzzing with conversations about when the water would reach us. We knew because as a teacher in the school quipped "When there is flooding in Prae, there will definitely be flooding in Sukhothai." Phrae is a province north of Sukhothai. The waters in Sawankhalok's Yom river had started to rise the day before and people started sandbagging the banks. During my 7th period class, as I was teaching the appropriate vocabulary befitting the occasion, "flooding" "sandbags" "help," a commotion started outside and it seems the flood had finally come and the water breached the sandbags.

 I finished my class and then went back to the office. It was still dry in the school but the water had already started to flow into the main street in front of the school. Just then, another fellow American teacher, an elderly woman from Wisconsin, decided she really wanted to ship a box of pillows and convinced a younger Thai teacher to send her to the post office which was conveniently right next to the river. I thought she was crazy, but it turns out that I was the more idiotic one, because I decided to take my bike and tour around the city. It was a crazy sight to see heavy traffic and the water already up about three inches. When I returned to the school to gather my things and load the things of another fellow teach on my bike, the water was up to about 10 inches and I had to walk my bike instead. I wanted to make sure she got home safely so by the time that I was heading back to my house, the water was way past 1 ft.

By the time I reached my street which was lower than the main street, there was a mini waterfall at the entrance of the street. Although my house was a little higher, the water had already nearly reached the front step of my house and all my plants and garden supplies were floating. I hastily went inside to clean up from all the mud and to my disappointment, the water pressure was so low (during a flood? really?) that I couldn't do anything except wash my hands. An hour later, I went out to check my front yard again and the water had gone past the front step and was literally a centimeter from reaching the bottom gap of my door. I stuffed some plastic bags under the door frantically, but I didn't think it was much use since the water was really coming in with full force.

This was when I had no choice but to come down to my knees and pray to God to save my house from the flood. I commanded the waters not to enter my house by the authority I had in Jesus. I also prayed that the floods would not harm anyone in my village. I closed my door and believing, went upstairs and watched as the water in the street rose higher and higher. It also rained that night if I recall correctly...as if there wasn't enough water. I ate some frozen food and went to bed hoping for the best.


The Miracle

The next day, as I looked out the window, I saw the water had subsided a little probably due to the neighborhood arranging for sandbags to be placed at the street entrance to reduce the flow of water. I went downstairs and saw that my bottom floor was completely dry! I praised God for saving my house from the flood! I held my breath as I opened my front door (since I couldn't see how high the water was in comparison to the door). When the door opened, I saw that the water had subsided to my front step again. As I went out and looked at my walls, I saw water stains that suggested the water level reached about five inches above the bottom of the door!

The water reached one foot above my door and did not enter? Even my neighbors had water entering my houses as I saw them brooming away the water from their houses, but mine was kept safe. It was definitely a miracle and I thank God for literally saving my house from the flood. Thank you Jesus!

This is a contrasted picture to show the water line above the bottom gap of my door! I also praise God that there were no reports of any deaths or severe injuries either in Sawankhalok!

Hongsawadi-Suvanabhumi...and then a summary

This is the first time in many months that I have sufficient free time to write something on this blog of mine. I am still in Thailand and currently I am sitting in the Bangkok Airways lounge at Suvarnabhumi airport for my flight to Sukhothai. I just arrived back in Thailand this morning after a ten day 'vacation' in Burma. First a little bit about this trip.

Burma is the same as ever: colorful, beautiful, dirty at times, and eclectic. There were poignant moments like the sale of the estate I lived in during my early childhood in Burma - the rest of my extended family are getting ready to leave the country to call America their home as well. When I walked through the gardens and the empty halls of my old home and as I picked my last mangoes from the trees I played under as a child, I felt like I was saying goodbye to a very old friend. I was also in Burma during her first 'free' elections since 1988 and Aunty Suu's party won 43 out of the 44 seats. This seems monumental, but compared to the overall size of the Burmese parliament, this is still quite small, not to mention that regardless of the parliament's decisions, the military leaders still have final says on what laws actually get enacted. Burma is still quite far from the democracy that Aunty Suu envisioned, but at least the country is now much more oriented towards that path than it has been since my birth. There have been many calls for sanctions on Burma to be completely removed, but that should be done only slowly, because there still remains much to be done and pressure must be retained on the military leaders.

Since this morning, I have felt a little lost. I woke up at 5 AM to get my final packing done for Bangkok and I felt an emptiness within me. I still feel it now and I don't know why. My time in Thailand has come to a close. I am only here a few more weeks, because the Fulbright program in Thailand has asked me to give a presentation to the board members about my experiences as an ETA at the end of this month. However much I want to give this presentation, I still really would like to be on a flight back home now...back to America. I am very ready to go back I think.

My school year ended in Thailand somewhat uneventfully and somewhat disappointing, though the feeling of disappointment was more due to my own doing. I expected too much of my students to give me a decent farewell and I feel like I utterly miscalculated their affections for me. In my one and a half years as a teacher in Thailand, I can honestly say without a doubt, that I gave it my all to my school and my students. I have never worked this hard in my life while loving what I was doing. I could go to school at eight in the morning and stay until nine at night still feeling quite energized, because I felt like my time was well spent and I loved my students so much. The hours I spent checking hundreds of notebooks  (I had 504 students this semester) everyday after school while my co-workers were already comfortably settled at home, were spent with the fullest of my energy and love. I never regretted working hard and I never will. I loved my students like they were my own children (albeit I don't know what having children is like, but I assume it must be somewhat like what I felt.

So with all this effort in my mind, I came out, to say the least, a little bit disappointed (a lot actually) when the school year ended and I did not receive much thanks from my students. A few students did wish me farewell and a small class gave me two teddy bears, but this was about 6% of my students. I don't know what the other 94% felt about me. In some ways I do kind of know how they felt about me. They probably thought I was annoying given the fact that I was probably the first English teacher in their life who pushed them beyond what they thought was possible and making them work hard. I did give them work and I did expect a lot out of all my students regardless of their levels or class, because I believed in them, and I believed that they could learn so much more than the games that previous teachers played with them. All my M2 (8th grade) students can now speak about themselves non-stop for at least one minute as well as various topics such as the school, their family, and their town. My M4 (10th grade) students can now competently write essays about various topics from themselves to current events and while their grammar is far from perfect, they can express their voice in their writing and tell beautiful stories. A class of my M2 students are now all swing dancers. This may not seem much, but it is a lot of progress from when I first met them (they used to hesitate even when I asked them 'how are you'). One Thai teacher pointed out to me that the students don't really appreciate a good teacher when they meet one, especially if the teacher pushes them. I would like to believe her, but at the same time, I wonder if I did something wrong. I do hope the the lack of farewells and expressions of appreciation and such were due more to unappreciative personalities rather than my incompetence as a teacher. I'm not sure if I'll ever figure this out. 

In the end of the year banquet for the the languages department, over lunch at a beautiful restaurant made completely of wood and surrounded by mango trees, as I was getting ready to say a little bit about my thoughts of my time to all my teachers, I started to weep. It was quite startling to me, because I am not really the crying type, let alone one who cries in front of other people. I couldn't say much afterward, but just thanked everyone for their love and friendship and unfortunately causing other teachers to start crying too. I guess this physical manifestation was an indicator to me that I really did love my school. Sometimes I am not even convinced by what I think about things so it was nice to get a confirmation coming from the recesses of my psyche.

The one and a half years I spent in Sawankhalok, Sukhothai, Thailand, were some of the happiest times I have ever had in my life, but of course, as a human, this also came with some sadness and disappointment as well. I guess the greatest thing I learned about myself through all this is that I can be passionate about something and work endless hours fueled only by my love and conviction that my hard work is producing fruit in my kids. I have gone through the first 22 years of my life not sure if I was really interested in anything as I have not found myself as excited or energetic about any job or volunteer position I have held until I came to Thailand. I really do hope that my students did learn something from me...if not about English, I hope they learned about life, how precious they are, and how much potential they have in them...thank you Thailand and thank you God for this amazing experience.

A full blooming padauk (Pterocarpus macrocarpus) tree in Rangoon. There is an old saying that these trees bloom only one day a month a year. The flower blooms in the morning and falls the very same day so I was very fortunate to see one. I also got a close up look of its tiny yellow blossoms surprisingly at the immigration counter as I was leaving for Bangkok.

The generosity of the Thai people

Tonight was a significant enough night that I had to blog. Korin, a new ETA who now teaches at Sawan Anan Wittaya in the same department as me, jump started the Bags of Caring Hearts for Soldiers Fulbright campaign to support the soldiers of Thailand helping with flood relief efforts. I taught 6 classes today and after being on my feet for 6 hours of the day, I wasn't looking forward to the fundraiser which was going to be in the form of student bands from our school playing music at the local night market and us holding boxes for donations.

It wasn't the event that hit me nor the good music by our students nor the camaraderie of the young teachers in our department. It was the generosity of the people in our little town of Sawankhalok. All sorts of people came to drop money into our boxes. It was the people who seemed to have the least but gave generously who touched me the most. There were ladies in plaid shirts, day laborers, who passed by in a group and each dropping coins into our boxes. I highly doubt they make much for their hard work, yet they still had the heart and generosity to donate to our cause. There were students with their single moms who came to support us and gave money. There were grandmothers and grandmothers. There were shopkeepers and food sellers around us who, after closing shop, came to give us some of the money they earned. I was blown away by how kind and selfless these people are. They had so little, but the 20 baht they gave was so meaningful. Twenty baht in Thailand can buy you one meal so it was equitable to at least 5-8 dollars in America.

I still don't quite understand how people who have so little can give so much, but this shows I have quite a lot more to learn. I live in an amazing community. The little town of Sawankhalok and the people have captured my heart.

This is my backyard...

With scenes as beautiful as this in my backyard, how can I ever leave this place?

The end and the beginning

It has been 3 months since I've written. I haven't disappeared into the jungles of Thailand. I've simply been busy teaching my students and loving them more and more each day. This past week is the marker of one year since I have been in Thailand on a Fulbright. We also met the new batch of ETAs coming with ready minds and open hearts to come teach in Thailand. I've met my replacement in the wonderful person of Korin. She is SET UP for success...that's all I have to say. I couldn't have chosen a better person to come and teach at Sawan Anan as a Fulbright ETA. Although I've decided to stay on and teach one more semester (big news!), I can only describe myself this week as having "jai hai" syndrome...translated to "a lost heart," because I cannot deal with the fact that this amazing year of Fulbright has officially come to an end and my fellow sister ETAs are heading off to travel in Southeast Asia before heading back to the homeland. Perhaps I am in denial with all of this, so I've put an invisible barrier between my heart and my head. It has been a very fast year, and the fastest one since college where years seem to be only as long as months. I will reactivate my blog and write as much as I can about these next 5 months in Thailand and my wonderful students and friends. I'll post pictures and write more later.

Rain Rain Rain

It has been raining nonstop for two days now. The air is cooler, but my metal roof sings all night in harmony with the droplets of rain. It is really rainy season now. I've spotted those red, hairy rambutans, bumpy custard apples, brown longans, and red salas at the market. It is also fruit season.

There are also a lot of these:

Everything seems so much more passionate in Thailand including the weather. The heat is so forceful sometimes that it squeezes the sweat out of me like juice from an orange. The thunderstorms are so loud it feels like enemy planes are dropping bombs. The rainstorms are so sudden that one moment, raindrops the size of small pebbles fall hard, and a few minutes later, the sun appears so swiftly that the sky has no choice but color itself up vibrantly.

Wai Kru Day

With Ajahn Kannika, another English teacher on my right

Last Thursday, all classes were cancelled in the morning because of "Wan Wai Kru" which is a day of respect for all teachers. It is a significant day celebrated in most Thai schools where students show respect and appreciation for their teachers by offering them flowers and incense. All the teachers including myself were led to sit on chairs arranged at the school park and students one by one came up to offer us flowers. We would then give them a blessing and wish them well on their studies and their future.

I think that this day is as important for students as the teachers. I felt very appreciated and loved, and I was on cloud nine all day, but I think it is also good for the students, because they were given the opportunity to humble themselves and reflect on how important teachers are in their lives. It was also good for them to partake in this to realize that they are not at the center of the world, that teachers are not there to serve them, but to be part of their lives forever.

Students offering flowers and paying their respect

I was talking to the other foreign English teachers in my department and we all wished something like this existed in America. If American kids could just be a tad bit more humble and realize that not everything exists for their sole benefit, perhaps they can grow up to be better people. Modernization and materialism has eroded respect for teachers in America and these two things are also starting to encroach on Thailand. My host teachers tell me that students are less respectful of teachers these days and their numbers seem to increase each year. Students that are especially smart or talented tend to regard teachers as tools rather than as friends and mentors.

To end on a high note, the tradition of Wai Kru exists and remains strong in Thailand. It is my hope that Thai students continue to remain respectful to and appreciate their teachers always. Wherever I meet my students, they generally would say hello and wai me. I wai them back to recognize them and respect them too. It is a two way relationship showing that we will work and grow together.

Some of the teachers in the foreign languages department

Durian season is here!

The head of the English department, P'Sonya, dropped off two Uttaradit durians at my house tonight. It is now officially durian season in Thailand! Uttaradit durians are the most fragrant and sweetest durians I have ever tasted in my life. It is locally grown (in a neighboring province) and ridiculously cheap at 50 cents for each one. I only wish there was a button on blogger that could release the fresh fragrance that is durian to you now.

Ramwong in Phitsanulok

A few weekends ago, I was walking around the Saturday walking street in Phitsanulok and came upon a large square where many people were watching some sort of spectacle with great interest. As I approached the square, I saw older ladies in their upper 50's and in bright identical dresses dancing to very upbeat upcountry Thai music with other random locals.

My friend, Oom, explained to me that this is called "ramwong boran" or "old dancing" although this name probably hints at the age of the event rather than the dancers (though the latter is quite appropriate too). This type of communal dancing is becoming very rare, so I was very lucky to witness it. People can pay 20 baht or so for each dance and pick an old Thai aunty to dance with for any song, though couples can also dance with each other. Dances last for 4-5 minutes. Thai people, both young and old, were enjoying the time here.  Dances range from going in a large circle while hopping from one foot to the next or sliding forwards and backwards.

Very interesting and na-sanuk. Plus everyone gets a good workout.

Hot Hot Hot

It is windy outside right now and the skies are turning gray again. It hasn't rained for a few days, so today might be a special day. Classes are going well. We are into the third week now at school, but this is the first NORMAL week since we don't have any days off. Lots of exciting things are underway in my classes. I started having my M4 students (the 10th graders) journaling everyday in their notebooks. Some of them love the idea and tell really interesting stories about the days while others spit out robotic reports. I explained today the purpose of journaling and asked them to tell me stories instead of reports. They seemed to get the idea. Once they get the hang of this, I am planning to move them into a field that might be more appealing to them: blogs. I want to do more task-based lessons this semester instead of the typical present and remember type of class. Kids know a lot, but just don't have the opportunity to use their knowledge. I heard yesterday that English professors at a nearby university don't even have students ask questions or write any essays in class. The majority of the grade is in the final exam and also attendance. That is a ludicrous idea. Sometimes I wonder if my kids will retain anything I teach them after this year.



Playing with a Malaysian three-horned rhinoceros beetle



The rain has come

It has been raining non-stop for six hours now. Maprang season is very much over. The frogs are out wondering why their homes are being flooded, and Sally the gecko is having the time of her life devouring wasp-like insects that only come out when there is heavy rain. The rain is continuing to knock on my ever leaky tin roof and it doesn't seem to want to stop anytime soon.

My second semester (though it is officially the start of the school year) began a week ago, and I am already inundated with grading. Record keeping has become a real need since I manage twelve different classes, four of which I see twice a week now. I've learned a lot from last semester and am currently in the process of implementing new teaching techniques (well, new to me) including more use of media and also task-based lessons. Since I told the head of our department that one English class a week is basically useless, we are beginning a new program starting with the 10th-12th graders where the foreign teachers will teach the kids twice a week. I feel like I can do a lot more with these classes though I generally have twice as many lesson plans a week. I currently teach the 7th and 9th graders. The 9th graders are new to me, but the 7th graders were my kids last term (they were 6th graders back then).

I am very attached to my 6th (now 7th) graders and they are a lot more comfortable asking questions and answering them too this term, so we are going to have a lot of fun. I also enjoy working on kids who have some behavior issues and who are usually neglected by other teachers. It's these kids that I feel I can contribute most to. A simple acknowledgement of their humanity, their gifts, and their potential to succeed-things that everyone else including their parents seem to belittle-is what they need the most. I already located one boy in my lowest class in 7th grade who I didn't have last term, because he was likely in an even lower class. (Each grade is separated into 10-12 different levels and the foreign teachers only teach the first 8 levels) Helping these kinds of kids is selfishly cathartic as well since I also felt overlooked and belittled when I was younger. They just need a little more attention and a little more encouragement. I know that many factors play into kids who later get into trouble and I'm not the one to say that my singular encouragement will completely alter the path of their lives, but I'm trying my best. I'm the only person trying, I think.

Now back to lesson planning for tomorrow. I don't understand how people can lesson plan for entire semesters, because each lesson plan takes the energy and sometimes daylights out of me with all the preparation that goes into it. I do things mostly week by week and at the furthest, two weeks.

Here's a recent photo of me in Chiang Mai. Don't mind the tongue.

A New Favorite Fruit: The Maprang

I have discovered a new favorite fruit, second only to durian. It is the maprang (Bouea macrophylla, marian plum). The season of the maprang has arrived in Thailand, and apparently the best maprangs in Thailand are found around the town of Sri Samrong in Sukhothai Province. Is there anything not awesome about my province? It excites me to discover new fruits that I have never even heard of.

The maprang is sweet inside with a tangy skin. It has a taste unlike anything I have tried before...the best way I can describe it without doing much justice to its deliciousness is by saying that it is a fusion of the best traits of the peach, plum, and mango. The fruit itself is somewhat related to the mango though you can't eat the skin of the mango. I think it looks like a mini mango, but my friends swear that they look like eggs. Cheers to the maprang!

Geckos in my Cereal

When I woke up this morning, I decided to water my plants and sweep the front porch area. After I put a load of laundry in my new washing machine, I decided to eat breakfast. So the usual routine. Pour the milk in and then pour the cereal afterward. Not so easy today. Halfway as I poured the cereal, I saw a black thing come out of the box and then fall into the milk. I yelped like a dog as I let loose of the box and the rest of the cereal exploded out of the box. I looked closely and discovered it was a dead house gecko. I decided I wasn't on Fear Factor, so I threw the milk and all its contents in my bushes outside.

Moral of the story? Don't leave your cereal box out in the open in Thailand for more than a week, because some old house gecko (Hemidactylus frenatus) may find it a perfectly suitable final resting place. TITH (This is Thailand).

A Jumping Spider

 

This afternoon, after I came back from the morning market, I spotted this little creature as I was hanging up my pitcher plant. She was quite striking and had interesting iridescent markings on her back. I fancied for a moment that I discovered a new species of spider and ran to get my camera. I just found out though that it has already been named and researched. Darn, better luck next time. 

In case you were interested, this little female (sexual dimorphism noted, females have a larger abdomen with more iridescence) is a Phintella vittata (C.L. Koch) 1845. She is a jumping spider and her relatives live all around Southeast Asia. It's nice to have such interesting creatures in my front yard.

The Little Boy with the Champak Flowers

 

Amidst the heavy traffic in Bangkok, I decided to head back to my hotel in a tuk-tuk. At a large intersection under the freeway, the tuk-tuk stopped as the light turned yellow and red. The driver shut off his engine and just stayed still. While I was staring out into the Bangkok traffic, a little boy came up beside the tuk-tuk. He looked like he was about seven or so and he was selling champak flowers in little bags. I was surprised because one, he was in the middle of a large road just walking around, and two, it was 9 PM at night. I bought a bag of flowers for 20 baht from him. 

I kept thinking about the little boy that night as I lay on my bed and the fragrance of the champak flowers filled my room. I thought of the contradiction between the hip “hi-so” Thais walking around with their large shopping bags and looking very much like they came out of some soap opera and the little boy, the little boy who was selling champak flowers in the middle of the road at night. Such a dichotomy should not have shocked me for I know if its existence, but after being exposed to the high life in Bangkok due to my family's visit, it was startling. 

The sight of the little boy was even more profound because I am a teacher. He looked like he could have come straight out of my Matayom 1 class. He should be at home watching cartoons, reading a book, or doing homework, not selling flowers in the middle of the road. He should be enjoying his life, because he won’t be young for long. I worry where he will go or who he will become when he grows up, just as I worry for some of my students in the lower level classes at school. I’m not sure if I’ll ever see the little boy again. I couldn’t do anything for him really, and the 20 baht will just be like air. All I could do was to say, “Chok dii na,” as he thanked me and went on his way. I hope that I can help my own students within one year to guide them toward a good future. 

Impromptu competitions

Here's a photo to show I'm still alive...once again. There are impromptu speeches in Thailand (which are not really impromptu since the questions are given beforehand), but more so, there are impromptu competition (which are really impromptu). I found out that in addition to training one of my students, Pipe, in an ASEAN speech competition, I was actually also supposed to take him to the competition by myself which was in Phitsanulok. I was informed of this latter fact 20 hours before the trip, and not by my teachers, but my my own student! Anyways, I was able to help Pipe and after two rounds of speeches and many bouts of near-nervous breakdowns, he got 3rd place in all of Sukhothai, Phitsanulok, Tak, and Uttaradit. Not bad at all.

Preparation for Christmas/International Languages Day

So at school, the Christmas celebration has been combined with International Languages Day ever since our department started teaching Japanese and Chinese as well. The teachers including me had to wear 'cultural' outfits from around the world to promote this event. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to represent, but they tell me I'm wearing the same costume as a prince in a famous Korean drama...Our photos are now slapped on every building at school. I'm trying to convince everyone that my costume is representing someone from the colonial times in America. So far, I haven't convinced anybody...555

Still a pop star...

I went to my usual som tum/gai yang (papaya salad/grilled chicken) shop today, and as I was waiting for the Khun Pi to make my som tum bpuu, I saw a group of about 9 of my M1 kids come in to sit down and order food at the next stall. They wai-ed me respectfully with not a lack of giggles when they spotted me. While I was observing another Khun Pi making fried snacks, I kept seeing the M1 kids come to the road in pairs behind me appearing to hold their cellphones up the the road. What? The Khun Pi smiled as I, still clueless, kept staring at how the other Khun Pi was making beautiful fried taro cups. Another pair of kids came up and this time, they were facing me and as I stole a glance, they got startled and ran back to their seats. Unbeknownst to me, they were each taking a photo of me on their cell phones! I chuckled and chased the two boys back to their seats at which all the kids exploded in laughter and nervous giggles. The other people at the restaurant all shifted their gaze toward me as I told them they can take photos with me and that they don't have to be shy to ask. Each of them went home with a photo of me and them. This is Thailand. I am still a pop star here in this small town.