Cru (teacher) Bradley

Jenna and I doing some Thai dance on Friday

Tuesday morning I woke up and remembered that I’m actually here to work, not just play. I took a quick cold shower and put on “teacher clothes.” Luckily, there is no uniform for teachers so at least I get to dress myself. However, I’ve never actually had to wear working clothes. Oh yes, I’m now a part of the shmazy working class; a person who wears knee-length black skirts that zip all the way up to my navel, shirts that cover my shoulders and cleavage, and heeled shoes. I also tuck my shirts in.

Some info on the school: It's a private school in Samut Sahkon that functions as an EP (English Program). A majority of the classes are taught in English, like math and science, but the kids also have regular Thai classes and regular English classes. It's a trilingual school so there are also classes in Chinese. When they graduate, the children are expected to be fluent in English and Thai and have a large grasp, if not fluent, in Chinese. Because it is an EP school, the school must conform to whatever regulations the Thai Ministry of Education passes. The Ministry of Ed passes new reforms and new regulations each year that usually cancel out the regulations they passed last year. It leads to an extremely unstable teaching/learning environment. Most schools disregard the M of Ed but our school orders us to follow their guidelines exactly. The sad truth is that these kids couldn’t care less about school or their lessons. Some kids there really do want to learn but others are just rich snobs (reminds me of a school I once spent 15 year at) who have been known to sleep on the floor during classes, throw things at the teachers and some senior classes can’t recite the alphabet in English. The P.E. teacher told S and I that one of the students, who is autistic and nick named “Kong”, threw his Thai teacher out of the second story window. The teacher left the school the next day and Kong now takes classes online.

Some of the nursery students. The kid in blue
is one of my favorites.

But I don’t have to worry about any of that because I’m teaching Aanubaan, also known as Kindergarten. As predicted, these kids are adorable and I want to take them all home with me. While they might be wild at times they also can recite the ABCs, count to 20 and even read small words, depending on the age group. There is Nursery: 2-3 year olds, K-1: 3-4, K-2: 4-5, and K-3: 5-6. I’ll be teaching K-1. 

We arrived at the kindergarten on Tuesday, which is a quick van ride away from the main school, after lunch to meet everyone and all the kids. Summer school is still in session and regular term starts on Monday. Up in the foreign teachers lounge we met the three Chinese teachers and the two English teachers who are actually from Turkistan and Cameroon. Both have been very nice and accommodating as Jenna and I shadowed their classes.

The Nursery classes were the funniest to watch. It’s utter chaos. There are about 10-12 2 and 3 year old students in the class, laying on pillows with teachers behind them. One at a time they come up to do the activity the English teacher has set up for them and then they run around the room as the homeroom teachers chase them. They are literally pulling the children by their legs across the floor back to their mats. Others are cradling the kids as they are screaming and having a total breakdown. One little girl made a run for it out the door but was caught just as she was closing the classroom door. It’s the best birth control ever. 

(Photo credits to Jenna)

Dirty

Cleanliness is non-existent in Thailand. Perhaps in some of the richer areas of Bangkok can you scrub yourself down in an actual shower and maintain a level of cleanliness throughout the day. Here in the Sudan of Thailand it just isn’t possible. The sidewalks are dirty with dog filth and muck from last nights rain and in some cases the sidewalk has caved in. It’s no different than any other large city; you walk the streets doing your best not to think thoughts like “what was that splash that just hit my thigh? Christ, it’s leaving some green residue” or “what the hell is that swimming around in the bottom of me shoe” or “tell me that smell isn’t coming from me.”  I’ve taken to washing my feet every night. And since I can’t actually remove my toenails because that would be just a little crazy there is always something under them. I just hope it doesn’t start nesting and growing.  

Laundry can take days to finish. There are no dryers here so everything air dries, which means it never really gets dry because there is almost as much moisture in the air as on your wet shirt. Don’t even try to dry something like a heavy blanket as it will take up to a week to dry.

There is a very serious lack of toilet paper, paper towels and napkins in Thailand. By lack I mean they don’t exist. What does exist are tiny little strips of what you might call tissue paper that you can buy at any 7/11. The only problem is they almost dissolve the moment they get wet, leaving you hunting for tiny pieces of paper that are clinging to your body in the most awkward places. Luckily for me, the hose I use to shower reaches all those places and cleans the paper out fairly well. Also, you can't flush anything except bodily waste down the toilets so the bathroom garbage must be taken out every morning.

The heat is the real killer. Everything I own is now covered in some kind of sweat stain. There is no avoiding it. You are almost always in some stage of dehydration. And when you combine the sweat with the much needed mosquito repellent you get skin that is sweaty and sticky and smelly.

Jenna's leg covered in bites

Which leads me to the bugs. They are huge, as stated before and everywhere. And they bite. I have a few bits further up my thigh which I know for certain are not mosquito bites. Then again, it could just be heat rash. But still, the mosquitoes here are invisible! I was expecting mosquitoes that are as long as my thigh that you can hear coming from a mile away but no! They are tiny and/or invisible. There are some that are immune to DEET. 

I have created a new game; I call it “Know and Destroy Your Enemy.” In this case, the enemy are the numerous kinds of bugs that could thwart my peaceful life in Thailand. So far, I’m vastly out numbered. Here are a few known ringleaders:

I can't get over how fast these guys are. When  I go
to kill a spider I almost never miss. But I can't catch
these guys!!

He has friends and he's not afraid to just sit there
staring at you. 

I must be some kind of masochist because I really enjoy these guys, actually.  I don’t mind the lizards shitting on my bed; I don’t mind the spiders walking around the halls of the dorm or the ants. Perhaps that will all change. But one of my other new favorite games is “Bug Watch.” At night I go out onto our “porch” for a smoke and watch the leaves in the dirt that have gathered next to the concrete wall laced with barbed wire that separates the school from the swamp.  I sit and watch an area that’s lit by a lamppost and wait for the leaves to start moving. Sometimes they move inches, other times they just stir. The lizards talk to each other very loudly. And every once and a while I hear the “tuk-tuka” of these six foot lizards that live over the wall in the swamp. Occasionally, they come into the dorms but most teachers have only seen them a few times. It’s a nightly ritual that has a sweet, calming affect. Then I slap five mosquitoes in a row and go inside. 

Khao San

After a night at the expensive sky bar we packed our bags and headed to backpacker heaven. Khao San is a tiny road that has long been the lighthouse for tourists coming to Thailand and for good reason: you can buy anything you want there. I myself was quite tempted to pick up a degree from Harvard for my next round of grad school apps. Drugs, booze and women can all be bought or rented for the evening. Food vendors roam the streets with noodles, rice, odd fish and there was one that made banana pancakes. Catcalls of scam artists and sellers ring in your ears. A man in the center of the street was throwing a glowing propeller up in the air for your viewing pleasure. A magician had a large crowd at the end of the street. “Friendly Strangers” appear out of nowhere to try and lead you to a waiting Tuk-Tuk. And there are languages of all kind; Thai, English, Israeli, German, French and Swedish could all be heard. There was a stench in the air of the unkempt and un-showered. Everyone had a smile on their face. In many ways, it reminds me of Beale St. in Memphis but with horrible music. The social hierarchy of Thailand goes as follow: 1) Buddha, 2) The King and Queen, 3) Lady Gaga. The love affair the Thais have for that skinny queen of dance pop will most likely outlive Lady Gaga herself. I wouldn’t be shocked if they were creating a monument in her honor and celebrating her birthday as a national holiday. In any case, Lady Gaga songs were played on repeat through the street all night long.

We managed to find a little bar on the third floor of some building overlooking the whole road where the guitar player could play anything from Mariah Carey to Eric Clapton. Sadly, Journey was not within his abilities. We even found a pathetic haunted house at the end of the road that we got into for free. 
Drinks were still a bit pricey but the real reason from coming to Khao San is the people. After dark the locals come out and it can take a while but sometimes they will mingle with the tourists. I made friends with two Israelis who had just flown in from India. They had some great stories and, so they said, “zhe beest hashish of India.” Don’t worry, Mom, I said no.

We came, we saw, we paid

Stole it from the net

 After two days in what my friend Leah is now calling “The Sudan of Thailand” and a long weekend ahead it was time to get the hell out of there. Funds were running low so islands were out of the question, plus on holiday weekends the prices for island hostels double. I called Leah, who was in a similar position.

“Well, I have a pool, a sauna (not sure why you would need a sauna in Thailand), a TV, a kitchen and a big bed,” she said.

“I’m getting on a bus now.”

Leah lives in Chonburi, which is about an hour southeast of Bangkok. While it was lovely to be in a room that resembled civilization (I spent an hour in the shower) there really wasn’t much to do there so Leah, our friend Mia, and I packed our backpacks and headed to a cheap hostel in Bangkok.

Chao Phraya River (I know, my iPhone camera blows)

Thailand has a well-known fancy bar on the roof of a skyscraper so the ladies and I decided to try it out. When we called to ask the price of the cover charge we were told there is none, but there is a dress code.  

“Half heel or full heel. Skirt or dress, please,” said the lady on the phone. I’m not a fan of the heels but Leah and Mia really wanted to go so we went to Siam for some cheap shopping. My feet aren’t large by most standards but by Thai standards they might as well be Hobbit feet. Every shoe under 150 baht I picked out didn’t come in anything higher than an 8.  I finally crammed into a 40 (I think that’s a 9 ½) and paid the lady 175 baht.

And so I donned my first and last miniskirt I borrowed from Leah and we walked down the street to Sirocco Sky Bar. The drinks were way too expensive, even by Thai standards. 340 baht for a Heineken, which I wouldn't even pay in the states. But the view was incredible. You could see all of Bangkok and the surrounding provinces from atop the 64^th floor. Not as high most skyscrapers in America but one of the highest in Thailand. Like everything in Thailand, there is no logic to the construction of their skyline. It’s as though someone got in a plane and sprinkled little skyscrapers atop of streets and slums and market districts, as opposed to the concentrated areas of towers and skyscrapers we’re use to in the States. The Chao Phraya river winds it’s way through the entire city instead of flowing in one straight line. You can look to your right and see the river while then looking far to the left and seeing it again. There was some lightening in the distance to the North where massive flooding is taking place that was spectacular to see. 

I’ve been too in the throws of culture shock the past two weeks for it to sink in that I’m in another part of the world. But there among the quiet of the sky (if you ignore the bad jazz band playing Frank Sinatra) soaking up the view of my new city it does now feel like I’m living in another country.

"Mista, get me outta here!"

I awoke with the worst backache in history. For a minute I considered pulling a “Midnight Express” (Leaving under cover of the night and flying back home). Instead Jenna and I walked around the school grounds, which are actually lovely. Walking down the stairs we ran into a thin older American who said,

“You must be my nine o’clock.”

It was 5 till 10.

“No,” I said, “We’re just looking around.”

“You’re the new English teachers?” he asked.

Nods.

“You were suppose to meet me at 9. I’m Pete, the English department chair.”

Shit. “It’s okay. No one listens to what I say, anyway,” Pete said with a smile.

He rescheduled the meeting to the afternoon. The four of us met in a classroom as summer school was getting out so he could give us the details of our positions.

“I don’t know where I’m going to put any of you. You’ll have to meet with the owner of the school on Tuesday to see who is teaching kindergarten. The kids are rich brats but they’re my brats. Be real firm, they will push. And you can’t fail any of them so just do the best you can.”

Hmm…

“Let’s go have a drink,” he said. No need to pull my arm there. We sweated our way around the school grounds while Pete pointed out a few buildings. If you take two steps outside the school gates and go to the left there is a tiny shack (which thankfully also has an espresso machine!!) It’s owned by an old, skinny Thai woman with a few teeth who will not stop holding my hand and telling me I’m beautiful. Her skin is leather and wrinkled and she must weigh about 60 pounds but her grip is very firm. The teachers lovingly call her the “town drunk.”

Jenna (blondie), S (greenish shirt) and H in our room.
Oh yes, that is a pink bed spread on my wood slat.

“Everyday at four,” Pete said, “we meet here to drink and lie about how good our day went. Be careful of the owner, she’ll try and get you to drink the whiskey behind the bar. Very bad idea.” I get the feeling I’m really going to like Pete.

We met with the two OEG teachers who were leaving that coming Saturday and grilled them. They are a cute couple from Minneapolis who have been more help than any of the program teachers or coordinators. That night they took us down the street to show us the market and the best food stalls. The next morning Jenna and I scrubbed everything in our room and then emptied a bottle of Raid in every corner and every nook. It really sucks I can’t show you a before and after photo. 

Don't know what he is but he's huge and fast.
I've been trying to kill him but he also jumps...
He had no problem posing for me though.

Wooden Bed

I know you’re all waiting for the elephant trekking story but it doesn’t feel right posting that entry with out a picture of me on the elephant. I had a disposable camera on hand but can’t seem to find a place to develop the pictures. I’ll have to wait till I can steal some from the girl who shared the elephant with me.

So now we can jump a day and get to arriving at the school. The school shall remain anonymous while I’m here so I don’t get fired for bitching about it.  We made the trip back from Kanchanaburi after we rode the elephants and were promptly picked up by the school coordinator. There are three other girls from the OEG (Overseas Ed Group) program going with me: Jenna, Katie H and Katie S (I’ll refer to them as H and S). H and S have known each other for about five years and Jenna and I hadn’t spent a lot of time together at orientation. Together we all tried to ask question after question to our very sweet coordinator, Pook. Pook speaks English in a broken, almost poetic form that we all have a hard time understanding. She took us to a great meal (crab meat curry made my toes curl) and then took us to the school.

The outside of the dorm we are living in resembles the college dorm I had at CSU. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Then Pook held out two keys.

“You and you,” she said, pointing to H and S “on floor 2 and you and you (Jenna and I) first floor.”

Excuse me? Jenna and I eyed each other than looked at Pook.

“Own rooms?”

“For time being, you sleep together.”

“We were told we’d have our own rooms.”

“Yes. For time being, you sleep together.”

Hell no. Jenna and I did the ‘Dead Man Walking’ march to our room and peaked inside. Tiny. Floor covered in ants. Rank smell. Mosquitoes buzzing in the air. Sink covered in dirt. We threw our bags down and I saw Jenna standing in front of the bathroom. I peaked in and saw grime from at least two years covering the wall and floor, a brown toilet seat with little chunks missing (to be honest, it looks and feels like an animal used it as a chew toy). And the shower was missing. Perhaps missing is the wrong word; there is a shower in the form of a hose hung over a drain in the corner of the bathroom (which I would later come to find has no hot water). Also, the bed is a hard wood block. This is not an analogy. H and S have a lizard in their bathroom. We named it Phil. (Photo was taken after we spend two hours cleaning the place. It really cheats you guys out of the full experience but everyone was in shock that night and no one snapped a photo)

In all honesty, I can deal with this. Ants: get some Raid. No hot water: it’s too hot here for a warm shower anyway. Wooden bed: fully stocked pharmacy of sleep aids down the street and I bet I could beg Mom to ship me my old mattress pad if I really needed it.

The roommate situation is the tough one. I haven’t shared a cell with another person since college and I wasn’t planning on ever doing it again. But all bright neon signs my instincts have honed points to this being a lasting arraignment. Well you know what they say: that which doesn’t kill you only makes you bat-shit crazy and that always leads to good writing material. 

Road Trip!

Orientation has been a long process. Classes are helpful but resemble teeth pulling. After a week of sitting in classrooms learning how to be a good teacher everyone was excited to pack their bags and head up north for some down time in Kanchanaburi. It’s about a 3-hour drive from Bangkok if you don’t hit traffic or a downpour. The urban sprawl of Bangkok lasts almost two hours. Warehouses and bars and stores and 7/11s pop up one after another but as soon as you cross the Chao Phraya river the sprawl becomes cleaner and more cheerful, with old river alleys every few blocks and flowers cover the building eaves. It’s easy to understand why Bangkok was thought of as the Venice of Asia. Although, I’ve never seen Venice but I’m guessing it doesn’t smell as bad as these little channels.

We arrived in Kanchanaburi with a little daylight left. We were herded over to The Bridge over the River Kwai (yawn!) and had dinner at the floating restaurant next to the bridge. We took the buses about 15 minutes north into the middle of nowhere. Once I saw the hotel I didn’t care where we were. It’s something out of a the travel magazine where the rich farangs (white foreigner in Thai) stay during safari or holiday i.e., one of those places you know you'll never be able to afford. It was Mecca to 80 ex-college kids looking to relax. As all 80 of us stood in the entryway listening to our fearless leader, Phil, explain check in procedures I walked around to where I saw a cooler. The very bottom shelf of the cooler contain about 15 bottles of Leo, the Thai equivalent of PBR. 80 thirsty people surrounded by jungle with nothing for at least 3 miles; there was no need to do the math in my head. I walked calmly to my friend Leah and whispered,

“We need to buy beer immediately.” She grabbed Andy and Brenden and the four of us high tailed it to the cooler.

“Just keep ‘em coming, girl” Brenden told me and when I turned around I saw a line of people had abandoned Phil with the same thoughts as mine. The poor cashier woman didn’t speak any English and I think we scared the hell out of her.

The rest of the night was the most enjoyable of the trip so far. Everyone wandered the grounds where you were surrounded with sounds of the jungle; smoking in the pavilion, playing beer-pong with tea cups in the bar (the hotel staff eventually found more beer that they charged us way too much for), singing karaoke and not-so-sneaky sneaky skinny dipping where all on the agenda. It was heavenly.

And it can’t even begin to compare to the following day! 

Disclaimer: I stole all these pictures off the internet. Don't sue me. 

Karma kills...your camera, that is.

The Grand Palace should be one of the great Wonders of the World. It is incredible. Ineffable. It is the ceremonial home of the King and Queen of Thailand. Construction was started sometime in the 1700s, at least that's what I think our guide said, and it continued to grow and grow till it’s become a compound of stunning temples, murals and palaces. When I say murals I mean the ENTIRE Ramayana has been translated into painting and covers all the walls of about 3 temples. It's massive and beautiful.  One temple in particular, Wat Phra Kaew, houses the Emerald Buddha. The Emerald Buddha, which is really made out of jade, is a small little guy that sits on a throne of gold and watches over all who come to visit him (you have to sit down when you enter the temple to show your humility to the power of Buddha and make sure that your feet are tucked under you as pointing your feet at the little Buddha is a big no-no). The compound was amazing. I know for certain that I will never see anything like it again. 

If ever there was a bad time for your camera to break it would be while walking through the Grand Palace. No sooner had the guide ripped my ticket stub and ushered me through the gate than did my camera give an awkward click noise followed by the screen flashing green and blue and black. Complete melt down. I didn’t do anything to it except take it into the Grand Palace! The camera was only a few years old, maybe three or four, and had never given me a sign that it was planning on self destructing (I stole the above picture from the web). The only logical explanation is that Buddha broke my camera. Somewhere in a passed life I did something to really piss him off and as soon as I stepped into one of his many homes he took vengeance on my camera. Bastard. As I stepped into Wat Phra Kaew I swear I saw the little emerald man stick his tongue out at me, perhaps even gave me a little victory dance. I carefully placed 1 baht into his offering tray in hopes this would make him stay away from my laptop and iPod. 

So for the time being I won't have any photos to go with the blog. I still have my iPhone so I'll use that as a camera for a while till I can find a new one and haggle the price down. I had a disposable camera on hand for the elephant trekking so once I get those developed that blog post will go up. Fast internet is hard to come by, as is free fast internet, so I'll try and keep the blog as updated as possible. 

Cheers! 

Gender Neutral Urination

Women often complain about how much easier it is for men to go to the bathroom. These complaints are most often heard when in the outdoors after a few drinks, i.e., on the golf course or camping. After a few beers, men can easily walk into the bush and relieve themselves. Women, on the other hand, have to find the perfect bush to hide behind while hitting themselves on the head for forgetting T.P. and taking deep breaths so their legs don’t give out as they squat for what feels like an eternity. It’s a fucking chore.

The Thais have developed a system of urination that is gender neutral, and when done correctly, quite easy. May I present the pee hole (which is the usual bathroom throughout Thailand).

In this picture you can clearly see what is simply a porcelain hole in the ground (What you can’t see is that I’m also standing in about an inch and a half of sewage water covering the floor). With nothing to hold on to, the easiest way to tackle this is to simply pee standing up. I’m convinced this is why most of the women in Thailand are accustomed to wearing skirts. And with women in Thailand growing up peeing this way, it’s solves the age-old problem of gender neutral urination. You simply lift up your skirt, straddle the porcelain, pull aside your knickers (or just take them off) and have a go. Not pictured is the lovely tub of murky water with a sponge provided for you to clean yourself off with. How thoughtful.

When I received information about the dorm I will be staying in when I get to the school (next Wednesday) it said a seat toilet was included in the room. I didn’t understand why they would include this bit of info. Now I do. 

Bangkok

Warning: Still jet lagged. 

After the most turbulent plane ride in history, I arrived in Bangkok amidst a downpour and a wall of humidity; normal weather for October. Watching my cab driver navigate I’m certain the only test needed to obtain a license in Thailand resembles something like the game Frogger. It would appear there are no rules or reason to navigate the road except to do your best not to hit the scooter stacked with five people wearing trash bags to thwart the rain.

Running on four hours of sleep I drifted through the first day of orientation at the Louis Tavern hotel with the 80 other wannabe teachers. After our teaching lessons we hit the streets in search of food and cocktails.

Cocktails came in the form of a 3-liter tube of beer (which cost about $11). We drained three of them. What do you get when you combine 9 liters of beer with jet lagged Americans who don’t speak Thai? Crazy idiots running around the street trying to not get bitten by rabid dogs (which are every five feet) and trying to not stare at the child prostitute outside the 7/11 (7/11s can also be found ever five feet). This city is nuts. 

"And, the bidet..."

Warning: What you are about to read was written under extreme jet lag. Don't be surprised if it makes absolutely no sense. 

Traveling is a bitch; international travel even more so. My layover in Japan was not very long. I was in a hurry to get to the restroom and freshen up before the last leg of the journey to Bangkok, which is a 6-hour flight. Apparently, Japan has a different limit as to what you can bring through security. So when I exited the metal detector and tried to retrieve my belongings a woman stopped me and started pointing at my zip lock bag of liquids. She grabbed it before I could ask her the problem and kindly opened the bag, taking out my tube of toothpaste, my deodorant (the gel kind), and my face wash and threw them in the trash. It was all over before I could even try and talk her out of it. With my dreams of cleanliness gone, I wandered into the bathroom. And then I saw the toilet.

All the seats came with the same instructions. The blue button, as you can see, sprays the cheeks. The pink one is the bidet. The green one is a handy button that makes the sound of a flushing toilet in the event that whatever you are doing makes noises that would seem a bit embarrassing. I studied the buttons as I did my business. When I was done, I stood up then sat right back down. What the hell, “when in Rome”, ect. Without going into details, I didn’t feel much of a difference between the bidet button and the spray button. The warm water was a nice touch but didn’t last long. Frankly, I didn’t see what the fuss was all about. Perhaps private bidets are more, shall we say, thorough, than public ones…

In any I case, I left the bathroom, with bad breath and B.O. but a clean bum, and boarded the plane for Bangkok.

Bags are almost packed...

When I told my employer I was quitting my job to move to Thailand for five months she proceeded to gush about the place. "It's amazing. I'm so jealous. I love it there. 'The Land of Smiles' and whatnot." She then gave me a look over and said, "You know, you'd probably go for about 100k on their sex trade market."

I took her comment as both a jest and a warning. From what I've heard, all the stories you hear about Bangkok are true. The good and the bad. Mostly, I just enjoyed the ego boost. My mother, on the other hand, didn't find anything amusing about this comment. So came the idea for the name of the blog. I knew I wanted to document as much as possible of the next coming months while also sharing the experience with friends and family back home. A blog was the logical way to accomplish this task. It will also serve to assure my mother that I have not yet been kidnapped and sold into sex slavery.

I will try and update as often as possible with stories of the crazy happenings in Bangkok, where I will be living, as well as the other places I will be traveling to.

For now, I have to try and cram as much into my suitcase as possible and figure how to say "hello" and "thank you" in Thai. Perhaps "where is the bar?" would be a good one, too. Flight takes off tomorrow morning!

See you on the other side of the world.

Disclaimer: I am technologically illiterate and have no idea how to operate a blog. I am not a good photographer so expect some bad/cheesy photos. I'm also a blondie, so prepare yourself for atrocious grammatical errors and more useless comments than witty ones.