Jing, Jing?!

A bit of news to start:

I have decided that one year of squat toilets, pit stains, and a highly limited selection of male companions who aren't named "Gookgai" or "Golf" just isn't going to suffice... so I've officially renewed my contract with Princeton-in-Asia for a second year of teaching in Nan! While a second year was a possibility I considered from the very start, choosing to stay was anything but an easy decision. I'll be the first PiA fellow ever to stay a second year at this post, and I'll unfortunately have to say goodbye to a lot of friends I've made this year as they move on to other endeavors. But when it came time to make the call, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to stay... to learn the language, to have more adventures, and to enjoy this city - and this whole part of the world - I've come to love so much.

Getting to teach the world's cutest kids another school year doesn't hurt, either. And luckily, teaching is a job with a sweeeet break schedule. After a bit of traveling at the end of the semester, I will be back in the US of A for two months in April-May. After sufficiently indulging in blocks of authentic cheese, water supply that works 24/7, and of course, Princeton Reunion-age, I'll return to Thailand in early June. Everyone who couldn't make it this time around can think of this as a WHOLE other year of opportunity to visit a friend/relative in Asia, riiiiiiiight?

So far, the reaction from Thai friends and coworkers when I tell them I'll be hanging tight here in Nan has been positive. Arm exclaimed "I'm so happy!" when I told her and Cho. Their daughter, Cake, will go to Bandon Sriserm next year, and it's likely I'll end up teaching her in Kindergarten. Aj. Prakop is already subtly making plans with me for whipping next year's 6th graders into English shape (I'll admit, any class will have a tough time filling this year's 6/1 shoes... Khim1 just won 6th place in the country at a national English competition). And Aj. Wandee, the 5th grade English co-teacher and our Thai equivalent to the "Cool Aunt" who spoils us silly, smiled when she heard, saying "Jing-jing?!" (really?!). Jing-jing, Aj. Wandee.

English Camp: where tuxedos and polo shirts coexist 

But back to the here and now. The past few weekends have been jam packed with a Nan Country Music Festival, complete with mistranslated renditions of "My Sherona" and pony-riding Thai cowboys; a Princess of Thailand sighting (she came to Nan for the opening ceremony of a new hotel in town); field trips to the Nan Museum, and, last weekend, a sleep away English Camp during which we led Bandon Sriserm's young and bro-tastic 5th graders in Spoons, the Cha-Cha Slide, and the art of "cooking" American delicacies like smoothies and paninis (made out of 7-11 bread and a-poor-excuse-for Kraft Singles cheese). Technically, we've been working 6- and 7- day work weeks this entire month - but as usual, I really can't complain.

Meanwhile this week, every class has been busily preparing skits and songs for the school-wide English Exhibition in February. Third grade has demonstrated a particularly strong commitment to their number ("Down" by Jay Sean ft Lil Wayne) by coming into the English Office every day at lunch to rehearse, as well as play with the ajaans' iTunes and in Neeno's case, help push buttons on the NEW (!) copy machine. 3rd grader Folk, who reportedly has very little interest in school and once infamously poured an entire bottle of baby powder all over a classmate during English class, has found his true calling in break-dancing while everyone else sings the chorus. A true crowd pleaser.

Lunch hour entertainment

This weekend we'll celebrate the 23rd bpee mai of Emily "Bpee Mai" Hebner, complete with out-of-town visitors to join our Nan Farang Bicycle Club, drinks at the purple slushie-and-jelly shot bar, a last hoorah with our singer friends at the Fifth Night Club (who, in their nocturnal and nomadic style, will be moving on to other places next month), and a CrAsia -themed Birthday Power Hour. There's no real telling how things will go, but all signs point to "(Weird But) Good." They usually do here in Nan... Jing-jing.

Tour de Nan

This past weekend, I got a visit from my good friend Hannah, who is teaching through PiA in Vientiane, Laos this year. She swung through Nan at the tail-end of her month-long teaching vacation, and like any good Thai hosts, we showed her the utmost hospitality. We provided fine amenities (a child-sized bicycle with faulty handle bars on which to get around); sampled traditional Thai cuisine (D-Milk and regrettable sticky rice logs); and showed her the historic sights of Nan (The Fifth nightclub). It was a classic Nan weekend of being gawked at by the locals, casual drinking, and relaxation... but with the added bonus of catching up with a friend from afar.

My Southeast Asian Other Half in the N-a-n

Hannah arrived on Friday afternoon - about an hour before I finished teaching and could make my way through a sea of high-fives to head home. Since I don't have an exact home address, and since we only had a vague idea of when the bus would get in, and since our Thai and Lao SIM card cell phones can't connect, we were going with a just-see-what-happens approach to meeting up. Everything worked out, though: Hannah ran out of a noodle shop - where she'd been sitting enjoying a Coke and studying Lao flashcards - and flagged me down as I turned down my street.

Friday night, Emily, Nicole and I took Hannah to our favorite riverside joint, which we call Ricky's - partly because we can't read the Thai restaurant name, and partly because we've befriended and nicknamed the waiter there "Ricky." Ricky doesn't speak any English, and never understands my attempts at Thai, but between charades gestures and a lot of smiling, we've formed a special bond with him. We even gave him our Christmas card last month, with our names scrawled on the back; he practically ran to the kitchen to show the rest of the staff, and now calls all of us "Anna?" (the only name he can pronounce).

In with the in-crowd

Ricky did us right with our usual order of cashew chicken and tom yum soup, and afterwards the four of us hit up a few "bars" (huts-that-serve-beer-and-whisky) and headed to The Fifth. Hannah was introduced to our motley crew of singer/DJ friends who work at the club: Gookgai, Poo, Tee, Pi Pong, Koko, Golf. They were excited to meet a new farang, and Gookgai even jumped off stage to sing at our table during one of his sets. Ajaans by day; groupies by night.

The rest of the weekend was spent pretty lazily. Saturday was Thailand's National Children's Day, Wan Dek - a holiday that sounds like it would solicit the celebratory equivalent of Grandparent's Day in America, but being a Thai holiday, is celebrated with great vigor here. Kids with balloon animals and paper hats and other free loot roamed the streets, play parks were set up at almost every public space in town, and a lot of businesses closed all weekend for the holiday. Of those that were open, I showed Hannah my favorite spots in Nan ... and was quickly reminded why Nan's appeal lies in its charm and personality, not its tourist attractions.

Cows, river... Welcome to Nan!

Monday morning, Hannah came with me to school before heading to the bus station. I asked my 6th grade class to "interview" her, one question per student, as a warm-up activity. Questions ranged from "When is your birthday?" to "Who are your best friends?," and a lot more kids wanted to know about the weather in Laos than anything about America.

Over the course the weekend, Hannah and I talked a lot about our respective experiences living in Asia so far. Even though we're in the same program, and living pretty close to each other on the Southeast Asia map, it sounds like we're having pretty different experiences in terms of work and daily life. But the appreciation for meat on sticks, stray three-quarter cats, and abundant mistranslations appears to be just as strong across the border. It's a small continent after all.

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.