Vientiane, Wiang-Chan

Some story-worthy moments from my and Nicole's 5-day trip to Vientiane (which I still don't think I'm pronouncing right) this past weekend:

1. Transportation.

Definitely not the highlight of our trip, but an experience nonetheless. We spent around 24 hours total time on 2nd-class (read: noisy, rickety and stuffed to capacity... think: live chickens in the storage compartments below) Thai buses this weekend, making a giant L-shape across nothern Thailand from Nan to Phitsanulok, Phitsanulok to Nong Khai, up over the Thai-Laos border into Vientiane, and back again. All in all, not so bad -- but a lot of that had to do with luck. We were able to grab seats for each of the 6-7 hour legs of the trip, barely made some tight connections between cities, and managed not to get left behind by impatient bus drivers during bathroom stops (although there was one close call with Nicole). We got pretty friendly with the other passengers, sharing our armrests with passengers who didn't have seats. One Thai girl pretty much slept on my lap for the overnight bus ride. Welcome to Asian mass transit.

2. Sunsets on the Mekong.

People in Laos are even more laid-back than in Thailand. The language is very similar to Thai, but there are less formalities in the language (at least in the little I could understand) - no polite "kah" and "korp" endings to greetings, fewer "waii"s from restaurant workers and vendors. Even Lao script looks like Thai script after a few too many beers -- loopier, wavier. There apparently isn't a national haircut for kids aged 7 to 13 in Laos like there is for kids in Thailand: school-age boys walk around with shaggy shoulder-length hair, and young girls wear their hair in long braids - not like kids in Thailand, who all sport a standard buzz cut and bob. Everyone wears flip-flops to work, from construction workers to bus drivers. And Vientiane, despite being the country's capital city, is a very lazy, quiet, slow-paced place. Restaurants closed up around 10pm, and we quickly found that there wasn't much nightlife to be seen.... so, the highlight of our evenings became drinking a cold Beerlao at the various riverside bars and restaurants that overlook the Mekong River. Watching the sun set over fishing boats and green marshes was a pretty stellar way to end a day of sightseeing.



3. EATING.

Generally my favorite activity in any city, dining was particularly delicious in Vientiane. In 3 days we ate Lao, Thai, Indian, Mexican, French, Japanese and American food, plus some bomb banana smoothies. Luckily we inadvertently fasted during our day of bus journeying over (having not packed any snacks), so there was plenty of room in my stomach.


4. Close Call at the Sauna.

Nicole had read about a "spa" located at a wat (temple) just outside the city. Intrigued by the notion of monks and massuesses on the same premises, we decided to forego the many massage places near our guesthouse and take a tuk-tuk to the wat. Sure enough, just outside the temple gates was a hand-painted sign reading, "Traditional Lao herbal sauna and massage" with an arrow. We followed the signs down a dirt path, dodging roosters and chickens crossing the road (ha), into what was basically a forest back behind the temple. Literally from up in the trees, a woman shouted at us, "Sabai dee! Massage! Sauna! This way please." We followed her voice up some wooden stairs into what was essentially a giant treehouse - an open-air construction on stilts, shrouded in leafy greenery from the surrounding trees. In the front of the room there was a changing stall and a table set up with tin mugs and a tea kettle, and in the back of the room there were 6 mattresses - 3 on each side. A man handed us thin lengths of fabric to wrap ourselves in, and we were directed to the "sauna" - a dark enclosed room with benches and a hole cut into the floor, up from which steam piped from a pot of boiling herbal water. The sauna was pretty legit, and we sat in it for as long as our pores could handle it. Afterwards we were told to lie down for our massages.


The massage was relaxing, but not so private. Towards the end of our massage, a group of Lao men had arrived at the spa, changed into sarongs, and sat down on benches near the edge of our beds - about 2 feet away from where I was being twisted and pulled in various directions, still wearing a loosely fitted piece of fabric, which wasn't really secured in any way, just tucked around like a towel. The men chatted away with our masseuses - apparently they were old friends... This was pretty awkward in itself, but became significantly worse during the final segment of my massage: the headlock move. My masseuse sat behind me and had me interlock my fingers behind my head while he pulled me backwards over his knees to crack my back... meanwhile I felt the fabric slipping.....

I narrowly escaped some seriously indecent exposure. But hey, for a spa day that cost less than my breakfast, it was pretty awesome.

Excuse Any Typos: I Can't Hear My Own Thoughts

I have been listening to a man yell ("sing") into a microphone to the "tune" of some equally loud and terrible keyboard music for about 4 and a half hours straight. Okay, minus the time it took me to run to the market for dinner.

It appears the house adjacent to ours, where our landlady's "auntie" lives, is having a party of sorts. The grass and concrete outside our apartment is lined with cars - (I could barely get my bike in) - and there are food and people aplenty in their front yard. At first we thought it might be a wake... then it seemed too festive and joyous (perhaps a celebration in honor of the upcoming Buddhist Lent), and we laughed about it and considered joining them.... now I don't really care what it is, I would just like it to stop.

But alas, more cars and motorbikes have arrived than left in the past hour. Moments like these are a reminder that in Thailand, or perhaps in foreign places in general, patience is key. There is the kind of patience that is deliberate - deciding to pause in the middle of a frustrating episode to find some calm and carry on - and then there is the kind of patience that comes from total surrender, to being a stranger in a strange land who simply doesn't have the say or knowledge to change that which is frustrating. It's that latter kind of patience that I'm working on here. Go downstairs and ask them to "keep it down" because I have to get up early tomorrow? No can do. I don't speak enough Thai. And I don't think anyone would care.

All bad Thai singing aside, today was a good day. The weekend brought rain - lots and lots of it. It cooled the air ever so slightly -- enough so that a few of my students were wearing jackets to class today. (89 degrees outside... "Ajaan Caitlin it's CHILLY!"). Sometimes I imagine a Thai person in cold New Jersey winters. I think it would be their worst version of hell.

Emily and I took a stroll by the river after school. We saw the usual clusters of white cattle munching on grass near the reservoir, and two men at work on a giant 5-foot candlestick (maybe?), carving intricate flower designs and religious scenes into the orange wax. I suspect it was also for Buddhist Lent, which is next week and for which we have a 4-day weekend this weekend. Nicole, Anna and I are planning a trip to Vientiane.... I would tell you more about our plans here, but I'm worried about jinxing them. Travel planning is way hard in Asia, and we are counting on some fortuitous bus schedules and friendly people along the way.

The weekend rain caused the river to swell a few feet, and the current has been incredibly strong the past few days. Some students were even absent from school yesterday because their homes had flooded and they were doing damage control with their families. Despite the conditions, the crew teams were out practicing this afternoon. Nan is known for its annual long-boat races, which take place in major river towns all over Thailand in late September/October. Teams have been out on the water every day for a few weeks, practicing into the night. I'm really excited to see the races, and for the festivities that accompany them... See Wikipedia pic below.



Now it sounds like neighbor man has invited others up for karaoke. This woman's voice is even worse than his... and it sounds like she's had a few too many Changs this evening....

Time to find my headphones. Goodnight!

Weird Exotic Foods, Part 2

This post is mostly a cop-out. Since I don't have anything in particular to write about this evening, I'm taking advantage of Emily's shared interest in bizarre Southeast Asian fruit:

http://emilysinasia.blogspot.com/2010/07/over-fruit-volume-2-dragon-fruit.html

Check out my guest appearance on her video blog, "Over Fruit." ...10 minutes of mindless but hopefully entertaining and witty banter shared - yes, you guessed it - over fruit! Enjoy.

Nerd Alert.

Six weeks down. It's funny how all of a sudden, things feels clicked into place here... how comfortable I am in my daily routine, how well I'm getting to know my students... I don't think so much about writing my weekly lesson plan out now (although I still do it, per school rules).. I can joke around with my 6th graders and they actually understand me (and joke back). I know almost everyone's name by face (which is quite an accomplishment for me... I'm usually terrible with names, and I see roughly 230 students each week).

I've been telling the other ajaans that of all the students at Bandon Sriserm, my 6/1 kids are definitely the future high school nerds of Nan. I mean that in the best and most endearing way possible. These kids are sharp, and they love learning: they are a teacher's dream come true. When I ask for a volunteer in class, I get 27 hands in the air - not just raised, but stretching and held out in front of my face if I'm close enough, everyone making whining noises, desperate to be called on. Last week, I introduced an optional extra credit project in 6/1, to give the "slower" 6/1 students a way to make up for low test grades: each student has an English Extras card, and each time they complete an extra homework assignment (read a news article in English, interview one of the American teachers, write a dialogue in English, write a composition, etc.), they get a stamp on their card... once a student gets 5 stamps, I will give them 25 extra credit points. One week later, nearly every student in 6/1 has at least 2 stamps on their card. The amount of English Extras-extra grading I brought upon myself this week is absurd. But they are fired up about the extra assignments, so how can I complain? Every free period - before school, during lunch, after school - you can find the entire 6/1 class sitting on the floor of my office playing Scrabble, while the rest of the school is playing ping-pong and football and finishing ice cream popsicles outside. I get regular visits throughout the day from my 6/1 students to ask about homework, how to say various phrases in English, and to explain to me that on the Word Scramble worksheet I made yesterday, I accidently added an extra "n" to the "gymnasium" scramble. Ah, silly me. 6/1 doesn't seem to hang out with any of the other 6th graders, and I get the sense that they consider themselves an elite crop of students... Either that, or they are just really tight-knit and love the air-conditioning in the English room.

Either way, I spend a lot more than just one hour per day with the 6/1 kids. I know each of their personalities, the kinds of things that make them laugh in class (like when I try to speak or learn Thai from them), the games and activities I can use to bribe them into doing one more less-than-exciting worksheet on quantifiers (Bingo and Heads-Up-7-Up work wonders).

Kindergarten is still the more challenging bunch (in terms of classroom management), but we have more good days than bad. I won't say I pick favorites in my classes, but Pee is by far the cutest and I'm very partial to him. This kid does not stop smiling. I can just look over at him and he starts cracking up. Today we were coloring shapes different colors: blue square, red circle, etc. Pee came over after I passed out all the worksheets and just beamed up at me with two outstretched arms - his paper in one hand, a green colored pencil in the other. I squatted down next to him and said, "Yes! Green triangle," and pointed to the triangle. He repeated "geeen tyangle" ("r"s are impossible for Thai kids), without taking his eyes off me and without breaking his smile. 5 minutes later he came up again, with every shape on his paper colored in green. I started to say no and correct him but I couldn't do it... that smile, those eyes.... "Good job Pee!!"

And finally, without further ado: a very belated video of the 6/1 Idol winners singing "Wavin' Flag."

Weird Exotic Foods, Brought To You by CP (Part 1)

This is snake fruit, also called "ragam" or "sala." It grows in clusters on a tree similar to a palm tree that is native to Southeast Asia. It has a reddish-brown scaley skin, covered in these tiny sharp spines. A grocery bag full of these cost me about 40 baht at the market (a little over $1).

To peel open the snake fruit, you have to carefully pinch one end and rip off the skin from there. I actually got a pretty bad splinter in my thumb the first time I tried.

Voila! Inside, there is a yellowish firm fruit. Usually it will have at least two sections growing side by side (we call it the snake butt, if that gives you an idea of what it looks like...) but this one had just one. It has a consistency similar to a pear or apple, with a large seed or pit in the middle. It tastes sour and tangy, a lot like a sour candy.

Thai Whiskey, Limbo, and Shaboozle: An Ajaan Affair

Yesterday was an all-around fantastic day - totally Mangkorn.** We started our morning at Hot Bread, our new favorite breakfast joint that just opened this week after a month-long holiday. It's this tiny cafe near the bus station, with a "buy and rent" bookshelf of used English books in the back, and a menu chock full of western-style breakfasts like egg scrambles and sweet Thai banana pancakes. It's run by a very sweet Thai woman, Usa, who sent us away with an extra bag of peanut butter cashew cookies (we've visited her quite a bit this week). Next, we got insanely good and insanely cheap Thai massages at a spa down the road... This will probably become a regular thing.

In the evening, we went to visit our friends for a get together in Tha Wang Pha, a town just north of us in Nan Province. We biked to the bus station to park our bikes, grabbed a song taa-ou (sort of a taxi-bus... basically, a pick up truck with that carries about 10 passengers - or as many as will fit - on two benches in the covered truckbed), and arrived in Tha Wang Pha about 40 minutes later. Tha Wang Pha is tiny. I mean, our friends who live there come to where WE live to go grocery shopping and see the "city." From what we saw, it is made up of dirt roads, rice paddies, a whole lot of chickens, and a few schools. Markus, Dave and Jesse picked us up on motorbike from where the song taa-ou dropped us. They teach high schoolers at a "boarding school" in Tha Wang Pha, and live in an apartment on the school grounds. A lot of their students come from the hill tribes that surround northern Nan, and live on the school grounds as well. At the apartment we met a few other American teachers visiting from Pua and Chiang Rai, a young Algerian guy named Malik, as well as Yong and Joy, two Chinese teachers at Markus's school. We broke out the Thai whiskey and Leo beer, and the international ajaan festivities commenced.

Anna, discovering Markus had a kitchen (ah!) and finding herself back in her element, whipped up a delcious feast of rice and spicy stir-fry. Yong made us chicken with bagel-like dumpling bread, which he had somehow managed to cook in his kitchennette-apartment upstairs. The girls from Chiang Rai made fresh guacamole with avocados from the market. Malik brought sweet sticky rice with bean curd stuffed inside hallow bamboo sticks for dessert. I... ate. And helped with dishes.

The night rolled on in the hot humid air (the guys unfortunately have no AC - yeeesh), with games of Beirut and Flip Cup (because really, college doesn't end just because you're graduated and in Southeast Asia), an impromptu limbo competition, sparkler fireworks, a dance party and Shaboozle. Shaboozle is essentially a poor-man's version of Bagg-o or cornhole, invented by Markus, Dave and Jesse. To play, a wooden chair is propped up upside down by a broomstick. An empty beer can is placed on top one of the legs. Another of these contraptions is set up about 20 feet away. Each team throws a frisbee at the other team's upside-down-chair-broomstick-beer-can. If you hit the chair, it's 1 point. If you hit the beer can, it's 2 points. And if you knock the whole thing over, it's a "shaboozle" for 3 points. Each team tries to make it to 21 points first. I don't know how fun this sounds, but trust me: it was really fun.

This morning, with a solid whiskey hangover intact, I woke up early and sat out on the porch... surrounded by chickens and roosters pecking at the night's leftovers on the ground, and waving hello to the few high school students who walked past and giggled. It was completely silent, and totally peaceful. A while later, once everyone else had woken up, an older Thai man arrived at the apartment. His name is Tong, and he is another teacher at Markus's school. He apologized for not being able to come to the party last night, and sat with us for a while talking (his English is very good). I immediately liked the guy. Jesse had him show us all the English slang he knows, some of which didn't even sense, but was hilarious: "What's crackin?" and "You should take the small boat to China." Tong told us how he's lived in Nan most of his life, but when he was 12 he left home to go to Bangkok and train as a Muay Tai (Thai boxing) fighter. His family was very poor growing up, and he was one of 8 children. Now he himself has two children, both of whom are doctors, and he says he is now in "a lot of debt" from paying for their schooling. He went on a lot about how "strange" and unfair the world can be, talking about the disparities between upper-class wealth in Bangkok and the hilltribes, like the Hmong, in northern Thailand. "We are all living on the same earth, but some people can be so rich, some so poor... some so stupid, some so wise," he said and laughed. Tong then went upstairs and brought down a huge watermelon and a bag full of dragonfruit. He sliced it all up and had us eat it. It was a delicious breakfast.

Tong offered to drive us to Nan, since he was going there anyways to watch one of his students fight (he is still a Muay Tai trainer). We graciously said yes, not wanting to wait for a song taa-ou to come by. We got into his car and he asked if we wanted Thai or American music. We shrugged and said that he should pick. He popped in a CD and the speakers started bumping hardcore techno music. We stopped once when Tong wanted to buy us some sticky rice at a roadstand, and then we hit the highway: 4 American girls and a 50-something year old Thai man piled into a pickup truck, blaring techno music through the scenic hills of northern Nan, and driving about 20 miles under the speed limit the whole way into the city. I couldn't stop laughing to myself the whole way home.

**Mangkorn: a new expression, taken from our favorite Thai nickname... can used as a verb or noun to describe or associated with anything totally awesome, good, or delicious... as in: "Man, that Thai massage was totally MANGKORN," or, "I just MANGKORNED that entire bowl of noodles." Spread the word.

Yes I Can!

One of my students in 6/1, Flook, keeps writing the same message on everything he turns it lately: "You can see me."

The first time, it was scrawled across the top of a homework assignment, in his slanty, pointed, crowded handwriting. The next time, it showed up on his unit test; then on a class worksheet, then on another homework assignment... Needless to say, I'm a little creeped out. It doesn't help that Flook is a bit of an odd-looking kid: he's very scrawny, has kind of an strangely rectangular-shaped head, squirrely mannerisms, and a frog-like voice (I'm just being descriptive here).Today when I saw the "You can see me" message again on his spelling quiz, this time with robot-man doodles around it, I decided to reply. In my red correction pen, I drew an arrow and wrote: "Yes I can!" If that doesn't put an end to it, Anna has suggested I come into class wearing lazer goggles and stare at Flook the whole class period. THAT should do definitely do the trick.

In other news, my computer charger broke this week. Totally my fault: I dropped the heavy adapter piece off the edge of my desk by accident, and as soon as saw a spark and then heard something rattling around inside, I knew it was a gonner. Anyways, it means I have about an hour of computer time a day outside of school, when Aj. Emily kindly lets me charge with hers in the office. (I'm currently at 39% battery - type type type!). As frustrating and expensive as purchasing a new charger online was, it's actually been a relief to have so much free time in the afternoons. I mean, really free. I already don't get TV here - Hulu and sites like abc.com won't stream internationally, and even iTunes has new rules against making purchases outside the U.S. And this week, not having internet, my iTunes music, or even the New York Times online in the evening, I've been doing far more interesting and productive things.

Anna and I decided it's time to crack down on our Thai lessons. I mean, we've been over a month and all I can really say is "hello," "thank you," numbers and a handful of food words. Oh, and the word for "to go" (as in, "I'll take that pad thai to go. Kahp koon ka!"). Pretty pathetic. Our PiA friends in Chiang Mai, despite living in a city full of farang, seemed to have progressed much further than us in their Thai, and they inspired me to sit down with my Thai language book, start by memorizing the "alphabet," and get to practicing conversation on the streets. Opportunities are ample: hardly anyone, including most teachers at school, is able to speak English to us. So, I've just returned from the store where I bought flashcards and a school notebook. Thai language, here I come.

This week, I've also been going to bed a lot earlier and, finally taking Anna up on her invitation, getting up 5:30 to do yoga videos with her in her room. As soon as we find an extension cord for her laptop, I'd love to move our sessions out onto the outdoor patio. It seems like early morning is the only midly cool time of day here (and by mildly cool, I mean 80 degrees). In the rest of my free time, I've finished an entire audiobook (Eat, Pray, Love... eh), started another (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance), listened to all kinds of NPR podcasts and history lectures on my iPod (is it just me, or does being out of college suddenly make you starving for more knowledge?), rode my bike around town a while after school, discovered new treats at the morning market, and came up with a pretty great extra credit project for 6/1. Man, I didn't realize how much time my computer was sucking away from me. (But I can't lie: it will be nice when that charger finally arrives next week... or the week after....)

Oh, and the best part of my week? Aj. Prakop was so impressed with a group of my students' performance of "Wavin' Flag" in the 6/1 singing competition last week, she had the entire class learn the song and dance, and perform it for the whole school at morning assembly on Tuesday. She asked me to lead the kids onto stage. I was pretty proud of them.

31%. Must....conserve....battery.......

Chiang Chiang Chiaaaaaang

"So the trendy new thing here is toast."

Kelsey, our fellow PiA-er and one of our hostesses with mostesses this weekend, shared this tidbit of info with us when we arrived at her apartment Saturday afternoon, referencing a "toast-themed restuarant" that had just opened up across the street. Did I mention the Nan-ies decided to go big and get out of town for the weekend? Our destination: Chiang Mai, the largest city in northern Thailand, and a 6-hour trip west of Nan. Kelsey's toast comment just about sums up our weekend in Chiang Mai: a little bizarre, washed in whitiness, and full of things and terms (like "trendy") that are basically nonexistent in Nan.

To get there, we splurged for the "VIP" Nan-Chiang Mai bus, which for about $30 roundtrip bought us reclining leather seats, snacks for the long ride (fish flavored chips, mm!), a super-loud Thai action movie, and some seriously frigid air conditioning. Aside from feeling like I was in an icebox, the bus ride was incredible. Nan Province is surrounded by mountains and rural hillsides that encase the low river valley of the city. Our bus driver - who paid no mind to speed limits nor traffic laws nor correct sides of the road the entire ride to Chiang Mai - took us through these windy mountainous overpasses on our way out of Nan. The large tour bus heaved left and right with each bend in the road, and out the movie-screen sized windows we had a constant view of lush green hillside, mountain peaks shrouded in low-hanging clouds, and quaint little huts lining the highway. Oh and, you know, the occassional elephant strolling by on the road. Nbd.

We arrived in Chiang Mai in the early afternoon Saturday and took a cab to Kelsey's neck of the woods, where we soon met up with her and several other Chiang Mai PiAers and friends. We spent a few hours cooling down at the apartment pool, and then made plans for the evening. Having had our fair share of authentic Thai culture and food in Nan, the Nan ajaans and I decided to use the weekend as an escape into civilization, allowing ourselves to blend into the white sea of thousands of other ex-pats and backpackers inhabiting Chiang Mai, and going all out for the best shopping and western-style foods the city had to offer (that Nan most certainly does not). Meals for the weekend included a dinner of pizza and wine, Sunday brunch of burritos and cheese-everything, a real salad (!), Starbucks (had to), and a 4th of July all-you-can-eat BBQ of hot dogs, hamburgers, and corn-on-the-cob (I'll get back to that soon). I know it may sound weird (or awful) that I came to one of the most culturally important cities in Thailand only to surround myself with white folks and pig out on burgers, but it was exactly what we needed this weekend. After a month of almost constant and complete Thai cultural immersion (aside from each other), and in honor of the special holiday, we wanted to spend a brief moment basking in the the obnoxious familiarities of Amurrica. And a moment was all wee needed.

Saturday night, after visiting the walking market where I picked up some saweeeeeet Thai handicrafts, we grabbed drinks and got a glimpse of Thai nightlife at a club called "Warm-Up," which was packed, primarily with Thais. Nightlife in Chiang Mai is.... wow. Intense. Plus, I don't think I've so much as seen a drunk person in over a month spent in Nan, but there outside the club were packs of inebriated Thais and Americans alike, stumbling across the busy street, tripping in sidewalk potholes, piling onto motorbikes and swerving away. It was bizarre.

Actually, the whole weekend in Chiang Mai was incredibly bizarre for me. Everytime I saw a white girl pass by (i.e., every 5 seconds), I instinctually assumed it to be either Anna, Nicole or Emily. Every time I heard English being spoken in an unfamiliar and unaccented voice, I found myself startled by it. The city sounds, the speeding cars, the loud music - it took a while to adjust and get used to. In a single month, Nan has officially turned me into a frumpster: someone who rarely does her hair or makeup (why bother? I only have 5 and 11 year olds to impress), who goes to bed around 10:30 every night, and who dresses like... well, like a Kindergarten teacher. It's okay - perhaps the frumpster's life is for me this year. It's still nice to know, though, that we have this incredible city to run off to every now and then...

On Sunday, after some morning shopping at a few boutiques and a mall (a mall!), we went to the U.S. Consulate's Independence Day celebration that was being held at a large park inside the city. We spent the whole afternoon there, standing in and out of long lines for delcious hot dogs, hamburgers, cole slaw, corn, watermelon, ice cream, American-imported beers, and every other kind of American food imaginable. There were swarms of Americans at the event, plus a fair amount of American-loving Thais, plus an Australian (?) band playing country songs up on stage. There was face painting, raffle prizes, cartoon caricatures, tug-of-war, and the requisite outdoor trailer restrooms (only with squat toilets instead of western ones). After the sun set, our national anthem was played (following Thaiand's), and a brief but impressive fireworks show was set off. This was by far the most all-out-American 4th of July I've had in quite a few years... and who knew? I had it in Southeast Asia.

We took the 10:30pm bus back home Sunday night, and arrived at the dark empty city streets of Nan early this morning. Only the morning market vendors near our school were out and about, already starting to set-up shop. Emily and I had agreed on the bus ride home that our Chiang Mai weekend was awesome, largely thanks to our fabulous PiA friends who hosted us and showed us around, and that we'll be back again soon. But also that in the meantime, we're very happy to be living our non-life Nan-life.

Yeah, That's Right: I Ripped Up Your Frog Mask.

I'm sitting in the English office while I write this, dripping with sweat (and it's barely 11am), decompressing from a morning of Kindergarten classes. My K3 class was perfect. K2, however, turned into little monsters. My Thai co-teacher for K2 left the classroom as soon as I arrived. I got through a couple rounds of the alphabet song, then passed back the animal masks they've been coloring this week, and then all hell broke lose. First of all, I'm finding that most Kindergartners don't actually know their nicknames. I think they have a hard time with my accent. So, when I called Poom up to get his mask this morning, Peem stood up instead, while Poom faced the other way and started poking Chompoo with his feet. When I called forPakbond to hand her her mask, Ormsin, Boss and Mint stood up. More confusion ensued. Within seconds, a group of boys in back who already had their masks got distracted and started wrestling on the ground. (Kindergarteners don't have desks, so instead they sit and roll and squirm in rows on the tile floor). Then another group got distracted. Then another. On top of all that confusion, a lot of them were still wearing their teeth brushing aprons (more on that later), so their names tags were covered. Imagine trying to call the attention of 37 small children scattered across a room, without knowing their names, and without knowing any command words in their language. YEAH. Welcome to my morning.

In an effort to bring about order, I slapped my hand on the desk and yelled QUIET as loud as I could. My QUIET was not loud enough. So I tried standing perfectly still with my arms crossed in silence, giving evil death stares around the room. Worked for a few kids, but stares only work when the student sees you staring. Finally, using a technique favored by my fellow ajaans, I walked over to the group of kids misbehaving and dramatically ripped up a paper frog mask in front of them. Then I snatched a kid's mask away from his hands. The act earned a few seconds of shocked expressions, and then he went right on playing and punching and rolling around. At that point, with only a few minutes left in the period, I gave up on the game I'd planned. I snatched up every single mask I'd handed out. Watched as they sat down again. Waited for them to say goodbye. Then left without accepting my usual flock of hugs. Mangpor looked at me through the screen door as I walked away, with the saddest expression I have ever seen. Sigh.

(Speaking of expressions, I got the nastiest one I've seen in Thailand from a little girl I accidently flat-tired at the market last night. Seriously, she shot darts at me with her eyes).

Now I'm at my desk trying to come up with the perfect grand prize for the 6/1 singing competition. It will obviously involve stickers. It needs to be big. These kids have been practicing like crazy. At lunch period they find me in my office and drag me into the English library to practice with them. Tomorrow is the big day. (Hopefully) videos to follow!

PS: Does anyone remember this Starburst commercial? Emily brought it up yesterday. I die every time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYX_zhlTDr8.