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.