X Marks the Spot

I am ashamed to admit it took three months to get the ajaans out to a night club in Nan, but we finally did it. Determined to make it past my usual bedtime of 11 pm, I armed myself with a 30 minute pre-dinner napski and a can of 7-11 espresso. It was to be an epic evening in Nan.

We were picked up at the apartment around 9:30 last night by Au, a 30-something-year-old Thai woman we met and exchanged phone numbers with at Emily's first grader's birthday party a few weeks ago (she's his "auntie" which can mean anything from literal "aunt" to "cousin" to "mother's brother's niece's friend"). Au runs a small learning center in Nan and is about to open a restaurant with her British husband, Ian. We had run into her earlier yesterday in town, and she had insisted on taking us out. In the driver's seat of the tiny Honda was Au's friend Dick, (apparently spelled "Tick," but I'm going with what it sounded like), who runs a cosmetic store near Au's school and doesn't speak any English - "she's so nervous to hang out with you!" Au told us - but gave us translated compliments all night long nonetheless.

Sidebar: It only just occurred to me as I sat down to write this post that Au never asked me for directions to the apartment before picking us up... a fact that would seem odd or creepy in any other situation, but isn't surprising in the least in Nan. Probably the entire town knows where we live, and if they don't, it will be the first thing they ask upon meeting us.

Au and Dick took the four of us to a riverside restaurant bar for a round of beers, cashews, guava and pineapple - "bar food" in Thailand. Afterwards, we headed to "The Fifth," one of Nan's only two nightclubs, located off a back road in the center of town. The Fifth was every bit as delightfully seedy as we'd anticipated: disco balls, strobe lights, awful dance music blaring from the speakers, bar tables occupied by young Thai men dressed in tight graphic t-shirts and skinny jeans, and Thai girls scantily dressed in babydoll dresses. (The same for boy-ladies and ladyboys, respectively. Nan may be small and quaint, but there is no shortage of transsexuals here). A huge stage took up half the club floor, on which "go-go dancers" and an emo-pop band consisting of seven different lead singers alternatively appeared.

At the club, we were met by Lak, another 30-something Thai woman we'd met a few times before; Jenny and Jody, who are our age and frequent the City Park Hotel pool with us most weekends; Au's husband; and a handful of other farang teachers, including Mark, who was celebrating his 40-something birthday by having everyone in the group don a black curly "Afro" wig.

The night at The Fifth became increasingly ridiculous with each new bottle of Thai whiskey and bucket of ice that appeared at our table (Chang beer and exorbitant amounts of whiskey are really your two only options at Thai bars). No one at the club - outside of our group - spoke much English, but that didn't stop them from interacting with us. One Thai guy (we think he was a frontman for the band at one point in the night) professed his love for Emily by giving her a kiss square on the mouth as we walked past his table. (Our reaction: "Did that really just happen? Uhh yep.") Another Thai man with particularly foul breath and an unfortunate habit of close talking tried to engage me in conversation, but only knew enough English to say "beautiful" and type the letter "X" as his name into my handphone.

Prepare yourselves, Mom and Dad: Emily and I may have discovered the place where we'll meet our future husbands.

Singers at The Fifth (on the mic: Emily's potential soulmate)

How I disguise my golden locks: Lak, Emily and me

Although, apparently Emily appeals to both sexes in Thailand. We met two "boy ladies" in the restroom (I still haven't figured out the right terminology there), Pie and Yellow, who were clad in baggy jeans, glasses, and colorful braces, and were probably a few years younger than us. They quickly became very attached to Emily. After a few minutes of conversation in front of the bathroom mirror, during which we displayed the extent of my Thai language skills by telling our ages in Thai, Yellow swung her arm around Emily's neck and proclaimed, "les-bee-an! les-bee-an!" I tugged at Emily's arm and smiled and said "No, not today!" and ran out the door.

Around 4am - yeah, I can't believe we stayed awake that late either - Lak drove our big group home in her truck, making a pitstop at the restaurant Boom. (Incidentally, Boom is run by the family of my 6th grade student Bank 3, who thankfully did not have to witness Aj. Caitlin on her way home from "da club" last night). We feasted on Thai omelettes and pork, and entertained ourselves by having Mark do impressions of Kelly Osbourne ("But it's MY birthday!") and learning about the origin of the "two-fingered salute" insult from our British friends. Once we were stuffed, Lak got us home safe and sound, and promised us a repeat night of afros, boy ladies and X's next weekend.

It was the best of meals, it was the worst of meals

Saturday morning, Aj. Prakop invited us to come into school to cook with her. In the hallway outside the English office, she set up an assortment of ingredients, plates and bowls from her office, and an electric pan. A handful of 6th graders - dressed in typical Thai-kid-on-the-weekend apparel of oversized t-shirts and colorful board shorts - bobbed in and out of the hallway, in between their Saturday "extra school" classes. They watched intently as Prakop explained each dish and put us to work on a batch of gaang kee-o wahn gai (green curry with chicken) and gloo-ay boo-aht chi (bananas and coconut milk).

do it yo-self Thai:

gaang kee-o wahn gai ...Green Curry with Chicken

1 - 1 1/2 cups of coconut milk

1 packet of green curry paste

raw chicken breast, diced

pinch of salt

splash of soy sauce

1 1/2 cup eggplant, diced. Keep soaked in water to prevent browning.

2 cups fresh basil leaves

1. Heat 1/2 cup of coconut milk and curry paste

2. Bring to a boil. Stir into a thick paste.

3. Add chicken. Stir in a few teaspoons of soy sauce.

4. Add another 1/2 - 1 cup coconut milk. Add water and salt to make a thin broth-like consistency.

5. When chicken is thoroughly cooked, add eggplant. Cook 10-15 minutes until eggplant looks "clear."

6. Add basil leaves and remove from heat. Serve over rice.

gloo-ay boo-aht chi (Literally: "bananas ordaining as nuns") ...Bananas & Coconut Milk

10-15 small bananas, sliced into small pieces

1 - 1 1/2 cups coconut milk

4 cups of water

1 - 3 tablespoons sugar

pinch of salt

1. Pour 2/3 cup of coconut milk and water into a deep pan. Heat and bring to a boil.

2. Lower heat. Add bananas. Cook until bananas are translucent and soft.

3. Add sugar to taste. (Thai style sweetness = about 4 ladle-fuls). Add a pinch of salt.

4. Add remainder of coconut milk. Remove from heat. Serve!

Anna conducted a brief interview with our head chef AP before we dug in:

In some sort of karmic retribution for an overly-delicious lunch, my dinner of shrimp tom yum soup Saturday night sent me into battle the rest of the weekend with a nasty case of food poisoning. (Things I Learned the Hard Way: 1) Seafood in Nan is to be regarded with caution during the rainy season). In my darkest hours, Anna brought on the TLC with a steady supply of tea, vegetable broth and our apartment's only copy of Vogue. Aj. Prakop and her husband ended up taking me to the clinic Sunday evening, where the Thai doctor initially assumed I was hungover (I guess that's a fair diagnosis for "tired and throwing up"). Eventually he understood my ailment, and for about $6 I was given 5 different kinds of antibiotics and other pills. Still unclear what they were, but they definitely did the trick.

I went into work Monday morning only to find that Aj. Prakop had already told 6/1 that I'd be out sick and they'd be doing art during English period... Her reaction to seeing me at my desk was more "OH NO!" than "Oh good!" With a smile she suggested I go home and "get more rest," and, not wanting to crush 6/1's dreams of watercolor landscapes, I snuck out before the national anthem came on.

Hey, it's not every day you get to play boss-approved hooky.

Is That a Koosh Ball?!

Nope, just another crazy Southeast Asian fruit. Watch the latest installment of "Over Fruit," in which Emily and I discuss the mysteries of rambutan, below. Your world of fruit will be flipped up - side - down.

Stray notes:

1. You'll see the directing of these videos is becoming increasingly sophisticated. Luckily, we have a lot of time on our hands here in Nan.

2. Alex Shih, if you're reading (and then watching): yes, that is "Waii" (a.k.a. Thailand's Justin Bieber) singing in the background. Thank you for introducing me to her during our TigerCall days. If others are interested, I highly recommend her videos on YouTube. Thai pop is a whole music genre of its own. The drama!

Even strayer notes:

Check out www.trukz.com for a fun online trucking simulation game!

Into the Wild

Bathed in a bucket? Check. Slept in a hill tribe village where chickens outnumber humans? Yep. Hiked the jungle-laden mountains of Nan in both rain and hot sun? Indeed.

This past weekend, taking advantage of the holiday, the ajaans and I set out for a 3-day, 2-night trekking trip organized by a small agency in Nan called Fhu Travel. 72 hours up in the mountains turned out to be a pretty epic adventure, and by far the coolest thing I've experienced since arriving in Thailand. (And who knew? All just outside the city limits of our home-sweet-home). I feel like the best way to begin telling the weekend's tale is to give you the low-down on the characters who made it so memorable. 

Meet...

Mr. Fhu: a short squat Cambodian man who wears Hawaiian shirts (unbuttoned at the top), heavy silver chain necklaces and yellow-tinted glasses. He's been running Fhu Travel for over 20 years with his wife, Mrs. Fhu. Will give free bananas to anyone who visits his shop. 

Mrs. Fhu: If I could have an Asian grandmother, I would want it to be her. Drives a pickup truck. Runs a tight ship at Fhu Travel, giving orders to all of her various male employees in her brisk stern voice. She's friends with Aj. Prakop, so we know she's legit.  

Nong: our Thai trekking guide for days 1 and 2. Loves to use his limited English to crack jokes about bar-b-queing various animals (cat, dog, tarantula). Nong has a permanent grin on his face and interacts with people - assorted rice farmers we came across, old Hmong ladies, little kids fishing on the side of the road - in a way that makes you think he's known them all his life. Nong is only 30 years old, but already has a pretty cool life history behind him: he was a monk for 12 years (from high school on he was educated at the temple), then worked as a school teacher, and apparently at some point became a certified Pocahuntas. Did you know you can turn a particular plant stem into a bubble wand, and blow bubbles made out of the plant's own sap? Ever made a spider puppet from a type of grassy weed? Fashion a toy gun and stick horse from a banana tree stem? Make sling shot darts out of bamboo leaves? Me either.

Cho: our Hmong trekking guide for day 3. Cho is 65 years old but looks no older than 40 (his secret: "I do something happy every day"). Served in the Lao army during the Vietnam War before returning to Thailand - which may sound like hardened and tough credentials, but this man has the cool demeanor of the iridescent beetle he carried around on his hat brim for most of our Sunday trek. Will talk your ear off if you let him, even though he says he's only studied English for all of 6 months (he also speaks Thai, Lao, French, and of course, Hmong). Cho was always eager to compare his understanding of the world with ours (..."The women are always fighting the men for their boyfriend. You have like that? In America? Maybe sometimes like that."). His father was a shaman, a spritual healer, in his village -- the most prestigious position one can hold in a Hmong tribe -- but Cho claims doesn't have the powers his father had. Refers to his endearing potbelly as "my baby" ("No one wants this last wafer?... I'll feed it for my baby. What a crazy baby.") 

Day Nueng

Friday morning, we set out by foot for Fhu Travel, where we were greeted (with bananas) by Mr. and Mrs. Fhu. Mrs. Fhu excitedly asked if we were excited, before making a last-minute trip to the market to ensure we had enough "sa-pa-rot" (pineapple) for the weekend - though from the looks of her prepared bags of food, we already had plenty. We were introduced to Nong and our driver, and a few moments later were ushered into the back of the Fhu-Mobile and hit the road. 

Our destination - the mountainous hill tribe region of Nan - is only about 1 hour outside Nan city. Along the drive, however, Nong made several stops. He showed us a pottery "studio" where traditional clay stoves are made and exported to Laos; a rubber tree farm; a traditional weaving factory where we observed an elderly woman work on a textile designed in the "pattern" of Nan River; and rice paddies where we waded out into the fields to watch two farmers, knee-deep in water, push rice plant bundles into the flooded soil.

Forging the river

After lunch, the truck dropped us off at the edge of a hillside and we began our 4-hour trek to the village. We crossed through several streams, passed the occasional cow herder and group of farmers at the top of a neighboring hill, hiked up steep hillsides slathered in lush green rice and corn fields (the Hmong's two central crops), and ducked through muddy bamboo-covered (and mosquito-INFESTED) forests. I was the first to slip and fall on my ass, so I owe everyone a beer ("the rules!" according to Nong)... but I did win when we made mini boats out of leaves and raced them down a stream. Maybe it evens out.

Our last climb - 400 meters - took us to what felt like the very top of the mountain, and in every direction we could only see green rolling hills. Once my sorely out-of-shape lungs caught their breath... the views were absolutely stellar. 

Around 6 pm, we arrived at the Hmong village. It was made up of a main gravel road cutting up through the mountain, with smaller dirt roads leading out to clusters of wooden hut buildings. The "homestay" we were sleeping in was a thatched hut with two rooms, each with two floor pads and a mosquito net set up on the ground. We had a little gate in the front to keep the chickens out, and a table to eat at. The village appeared to have about one lightbulb per building cluster - none at all in our hut. 

Nong took us on a walk and showed us the school grounds, where we garnered an entourage of young Hmong children who trailed behind us the whole afternoon, cackling with laughter. Almost every kid had a chicken - sometimes two - tucked into the crook of his arm. Nong explained that many Hmong raise roosters and chickens for cockfighting, which can earn about 500,000 baht for a victorious bird owner. 

Hmong children find us irresistibly hilarious

After our walk, we showered (well, poured cold water over our head inside the "bath room"), and a Hmong woman and Nong cooked us a dinner of rice, stewed vegetables, tofu, and tea. We went to bed around 8 pm... partly because we were dead tired, and partly because our one candle had burned out.

Day Sawng

A Mlabri tribe family

The next morning we woke with the roosters, and set out for Day 2 of hiking. This time, a young Hmong guy named Som led the way and Nong trailed in back. Som didn't speak any English, so he didn't stop much - or at all - for chit chat. We powered through several hours of hiking through the corn and rice field hills - with some marijuana plants thrown into the mix! (I don't think we were supposed to see that, Nong) - and then into the jungle, where we came across a Mlabri tribe family. On an embankment, in a skillfully-made tent of banana leaves and bamboo stalks, sat an older men in loincloths, two woman, and 6 young kids wearing grungy t-shirts. Each of them were skin-and-bones.

Nong spoke a few words to them, opened his knapsack, and pulled out 4 or 5 individually wrapped cakes and a slab of pork fat - apparently a customary food gift for visitors to bring. He tossed the cakes to the kids, while the man took the slab of fat. He began cutting it up, bracing a machete between his two feet and dexterously sliding the thick slick pieces up through the knife's sharp edge. He put the pieces into a bamboo shoot and stuck it into a fire pit in front of them. A few moments later, it was ready and removed... the man cut the cooked fat into smaller pieces, which were shared and quickly devoured by each family member. 

Saturday evening Nong left us and we were introduced to Cho. He brought us dinner and later, told us a "bedtime story" (at our request) about how the hill tribe people were created. The story went on for a long time (Cho is a thorough storyteller), and I may have tuned out for a good chunk of it... but from what a I recall it involved high spirits, a brother and sister mating and giving birth to a piece of "soft meat," and cutting up the meat so it could become the future population of the Hmong tribe.  

Day Saam

Cho wore slacks, a button up shirt, and a leather hat on our 13 km hike on Sunday, but only needed to pause his quick sure pace whenever he wanted to show us plants that can be used as potent body deodorant or teach us some new Thai phrases (both would happen sporadically throughout our trek). He took us in a different direction than we had gone the two previous days - a direction that involved a lot fewer clear-cut paths and a lot more fallen tree branches that required us to toss our backpacks over them, get on the ground, and crawl through the mud to get to the other side. It was our longest of the three days of trekking, and I felt mentally exhausted for most of it (not to mention physically), but Cho kept us entertained. He even carved us homemade chopsticks to eat our lunch with. 

We reached the end of our trek at a roadside where Mrs. Fhu would pick us up around 2 pm, and we parted ways with dear old Cho. Mrs. Fhu picked us up, banana sticky-rice snacks for us in tow, and took us back to Nan city. I stumbled through the front door of my apartment Sunday afternoon caked in mud, my t-shirt so wet with sweat that you might have thought I fell into a pool on my way up the stairs. We had promised one of Emily's first graders, Om, that we would attend his 7th birthday party Sunday night - (he calls her Ajaan Barbie - how could we not go???!) - so we scrubbed ourselves clean, fought the fatigue, and changed into our finest party attire. Despite the 4 very tired ajaans in attendance, Om seemed to have had a blast. 

Daily Dose of Adorable

...had yours yet?

I don't choose favorites... but if I did, he would definitely be it.

Coloring in Kindergarten

Future Jim Hensons of Thailand (from Emily's 1st grade class)

What we do in 6/1 when I just don't feel like starting a new unit.

And finally:

This morning was the school's Mother's Day Assembly. One class from each grade put on a show for their parents and teachers in the audience. Most grades did cute little song and dance numbers... but Kindergarten was my favorite: hula hoop contest. See video below... and look at 'em go!

Of Mothers and Milk

So I can get used to this whole Thai work schedule. The coming weekend is yet another 4-day vacation, in honor of the Queen's birthday, which is also by default National Mother's Day. And how do Thais celebrate Mother's Day, you might ask? To give you an idea, I've excerpted the following conversation (from Emily's blog), which took place between Emily and one of our Thai co-teachers last week:

Aj. Ann: "They will be saying thank you to their mothers. For... how do you say...? The milk." (motioning to her breast).
Emily: "Oh... heh. heh. Yes, the.. um... the milk."
Aj. Ann: "What do you call this milk?"
Emily: "Um. Well, we call that 'breast' milk."
Aj. Ann: "Best?"
Emily: "No. Um, BREAST. Like.. uh.. B. R. E. A. S. T. Breast. Breast milk."
Aj. Ann: "Oh (give it a second). OOOOOH. BREAST milk. And what do you call the ...value of the breast milk?"
Emily: "Umm.... the value of the breast milk."
Aj. Ann: "You do not have a word for it? We celebrate the milk as the best milk. The most valuable milk from the mother."
Emily: "That is... very good."

To give you an even better picture, here's a collection of Mother's Day sentiments from my 6/1 students:



So, the value of breast milk, giving thanks for mashed bananas, and the Queen's 78th birthday bash will align on Thursday, culminating in another long weekend for the ajaans.

On a more serious note about Thai mothers, one of our school's teachers and "lunch lady," Aj. Bouy, lost her 21-year-old son to a fatal motorbike accident last week. On Friday, we asked Aj. Prakop if there was something we could do, and she said yes, that she would take us to see Aj. Bouy first thing after school. I felt strange about visiting Aj, Bouy in person at her home, just days after her son passed away, since we only really knew her in passing. We had been thinking more along the lines of flowers or a card. But Aj. Prakop insisted, and we trusted her. Aj. Bouy, like many of our coworkers, lives very near our apartment. She was dressed head-to-toe in black when we arrived, and looked as though she hadn't slept in a week, but she smiled at us and squeezed each of our arms in gratitude as we came through the door. We followed Prakop to an altar in the living room, and following her lead, dropped to our knees, held our hands to our foreheads for a moment in silence, and placed a white paper flower in front of a large school photograph of Aj. Bouy's son. Afterwards, we sat with Aj. Bouy for a while in the rows of fold-up chairs that were set up in her living room, listening to Aj. Prakop talking to her in Thai, stroking her shoulder or placing a gentle hand on her knee. Prakop never flinched or stuttered - she seemed to know exactly what to say and do in this situation.

Saturday morning we had a parent-teacher conference at school. The assembly room was packed full of parents, who listened to the school directors give lengthy speeches about something long and boring sounding, while their kids milled in and out of the room asking for baht to buy ice cream with. The four "foreign teachers" sat behind the Director, and midway through the assembly we were asked to introduce ourselves to the room. I'm not sure if anyone understood my attempt at "Hello, my name is Caitlin, I'm from America, I teach Kindergarten and 6th," but we got some friendly smiles from the audience nonetheless. Afterwards, one of my Kindergarten students, Fasai, came and found me and plopped herself in my lap, calling me "Aj. Jackieee!," as some Kindergartners still do. It's understandably confusing that their American teacher from last year is not actually the same one as this year, even though we're both white. Jackie Thomas, know you are not forgotten at Bandon Sriserm.

Meet the Roomies

Last night we had our first real home-cooked, blissfully rice-free meal at the apartment, thanks to the incredible culinary skill of Anna. Girlfriend can work wonders with a steamer and borrowed restaurant oven. We set up a "dining room table" out on our patio (using bedsheets as a tablecloth), ate, drank and were merry. Check out our delicious feast, and meet my fellow ajaan roommates, in the video below:



Also, my guest star appearances on Emily's show, "Over Fruit," continue. See here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ztA2lYt7C8

Friending, Fitness and Skeeter Bites.

This past weekend, we decided to lay low and recover from traveling the weekend before. The upside of doing so was that we discovered a lot right under our noses in Nan. Emily and I visited a new coffee stand (that actually makes real coffee - !!! - not the kind from 3-in-1 sugar-milk-instant coffee packets... blegh) where we met Cho, a young-ish guy from Bangkok who speaks very good English. Cho has a friend who runs a trekking company in Nan and offered to ask him for a discounted trip for us... hopefully we'll take him up on the offer very soon. Next we did some shopping at one of the clothing "boutiques" near school, and met Joey, the employee who wouldn't stop complimenting us and asked me sing to the American rap music he was playing in the background. I politely declined, but he gave us a discount on our shirts anyways.

Later we headed to D-milk, pretty much the most stereotypically Asian snack-shack you can imagine, and our new obsession. "D-milks" are essentially made from ice, fresh milk, condensed milk, sweetener, and some combination of chocolate cereal or Corn Flakes, or jelly if that's your thing, all blended together to make a milkshake-type drink. Sound weird and kind of gross? Yes. Delicious? Yes. At D-milk we met Meow (that's how her name sounded... no clue if that's the correct spelling). Meow is working on her Master's in Accounting from Georgetown, and just returned home to Nan after spending 3 years living in Washington, DC. She explained that her father is in failing health, and so she's not sure when she'll get to finish her last year. She said she misses America a lot, and asked us to come visit her often because she gets "so very bored" during her D-milk shifts. This will no doubt become a regular hangout for us - and it's cool and very rare to meet a Thai person in Nan who's spent any amount of time in the States.

On Sunday we had our usual Hot Bread brunch, and talked with Usa and her sister for a while about our respective trips. Usa is always incredibly helpful in answering our various travel questions, and has even leant us some Southeast Asia travel books from her bookshelf. She also told Anna - our resident chef - that anytime she wanted to come by to use the restaurant's oven, she was more than welcome to (we don't have any kind of kitchen in the apt). Anna took her up on the offer, and tomorrow we will be enjoying a surprise homemade feast. Emily, Nicole and I are in charge of finding wine, and eating. The first task may prove challenging, but the second - no problem.
...

Just when I thought I'd adjusted to the humidity here, I tried running in it yesterday. Wooowee it was like drinking air. My exercise routine up until now has consisted solely of bike riding around town and daily yoga videos with Anna in her air conditioned room, but today after yoga I took my afternoon workout to the reservoir along the river, where Emily and Nicole do their daily runs. Eventually my "run" became sets of 10-second sprints with Anna, then a slow jog, then a lap and a half of power walking... (and who am I kidding really... I've never been a runner in any kind of weather... but I'm giving it a go).

No matter what kind of workout you're after, the reservoir is a prime place for people watching in Nan. There are people of every age circling the track. School-aged kids go jogging in their uniforms. Old grandmas go running dressed in head-to-toe sweat suits in the sweltering heat. Women go jogging in platform sandals. Some people wear jeans. It appears there really isn't much a Thai person won't exercise in, except a good ol' pair of running shorts and a t-shirt (so imagine how ridiculous we look to them). Aside from the locals, there are also a host of stray dogs, white cows, and buffalo chillin' around the reservoir. They stay off in the marshy grass, but man they can add an unpleasant smell to the air every now and then.

As we were making our final lap around the track (drenched in sweat, from only walking), we passed by two women and heard them muttering "something-something-ajaan-Bandon-Sriserm." Recognizing that they knew we were teachers at Bandon Sriserm, we shot glances back at them and nodded, and they laughed, asking how old we were. I told them and they cackled, "Babies! Babies! and so beautiful!" I wasn't exactly feeling my finest, but it was nice nonetheless.
....

I think there's a mosquito - or maybe twenty - inhabiting my sheets, and last night, they feasted on me. I woke up this morning COVERED in itchy bites. I'm not exaggerating when I say I look like I have some sort of disease... I was bored during a free period and counted 29 bites on just one arm. They are also on my feet, my neck, my knuckles, wrists, behind my knees, and every other possibly irritating and difficult-to-scratch place on my body. Needless to say, I was pretty miserable during school today, and had a lot of shocked "AJAAN CAITLIN!" gasps as students pointed to my bite-covered elbows in class ("I know! I know!"). In 6/1, Cake was very concerned and told me that the solution is to "keep walking, always walking." She also ran after me after class to give me her jar of Tiger Balm (a menthol-like cream that helps with the itch). There is no age-minimum on kindness and hospitality here in Thailand.

I'm still scratching away as I sit and type this, going a bit nuts while I wait for my sheets to come out of the wash... But at least now I've expanded my vocabulary and can say "mosquito bite" in Thai: "yung gat"! Also I have a new beautiful piece of artwork for my desk, courtesy of Aj. Anna: