Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
all i have to say is, "why??"
Ant problems, again.
I was cleaning my room today and picked up my camera battery charger. I noticed some suspicious white lint around the holes and metal prongs where the battery connects to the charger.
I removed the lint and an ant crawled out. And another. And three more. These **** ants are nesting in my camera battery charger!!
One crawled out holding what looked like an egg.
[Insert a long string of profanities]
They keep poking their anty little antennae out. I'm sitting here on the edge of my bed, peering into the hole, cursing, and waiting to annihilate each one.
These kinds of freak things happen to me more than the other teachers. Although, another girl did find mold in her wardrobe recently. It made me feel a little better to have someone to commiserate with.
I was cleaning my room today and picked up my camera battery charger. I noticed some suspicious white lint around the holes and metal prongs where the battery connects to the charger.
I removed the lint and an ant crawled out. And another. And three more. These **** ants are nesting in my camera battery charger!!
One crawled out holding what looked like an egg.
[Insert a long string of profanities]
They keep poking their anty little antennae out. I'm sitting here on the edge of my bed, peering into the hole, cursing, and waiting to annihilate each one.
These kinds of freak things happen to me more than the other teachers. Although, another girl did find mold in her wardrobe recently. It made me feel a little better to have someone to commiserate with.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
rumination
I emailed my beloved 7th grade reading teacher, Mrs. Muhl, several weeks ago to ask for her vocabulary lists. One of my fluent tutorees, Jame, is so good at English that I figured I'd go ahead and teach him the things American kids his age are learning in school.
For the last two weeks, I've been giving him words like "hirsute" and "ostracize" to study and write sentences with.
I was checking his sentences tonight and there, between "My room is often disheveled." and "Most of the things that my friends say are ludicrous." was just another small reminder that I'm not at home:
"Monks ruminate on small pillows."
It made me smile.
This kid cracks me up sometimes. I was giving him the next 10 words to study, when I said, "Germinate. G-E-R..." He interrupted me. "Germinate? Like turn someone into a German?"
For the last two weeks, I've been giving him words like "hirsute" and "ostracize" to study and write sentences with.
I was checking his sentences tonight and there, between "My room is often disheveled." and "Most of the things that my friends say are ludicrous." was just another small reminder that I'm not at home:
"Monks ruminate on small pillows."
It made me smile.
This kid cracks me up sometimes. I was giving him the next 10 words to study, when I said, "Germinate. G-E-R..." He interrupted me. "Germinate? Like turn someone into a German?"
Sunday, September 20, 2009
soy una gringa
Spanish is turning out to be ever-so-helpful here in Bangkok. Sometimes I use it to help out a stranger. Other times I use it to avoid one.
I was standing alone at a bus stop on Sukhumvit after lunch today. Mariela and Alyssa had taken the BTS to read at Starbucks. I wanted to try out bus 2 since Navin (the tailor) told me it ran near my road.
Naturally, a woman who’s standing by herself wants to be approached by a strange man, right? After I had been standing there for two or three minutes, this guy walked up to me and asked, “Do you speak English?”
He didn’t look Thai, and I couldn’t place his accent. Ever-suspicious, I said the first thing that popped into my head.
“No, no entiendo ingles,” I replied, looking distinctly non-latina and definitely non-European.
“Ohhh. Spanish?”
“Si, si,” I said, naively thinking he’d lose interest.
But he didn’t lose interest. He said he had a friend back in New York who knew a little Spanish and he, in turn, knew un poquito.
"Does 'Si' mean 'Yes'?" he wanted to know.
Much to my amusement, he spent the next half-hour combining English, gestures, and the two or three Spanish words he knew to try to get me to understand him.
I honestly don’t know how I kept a straight face. Especially when he told me his name (“My nambre es Jason.”) and handed me a small slip of paper with his number on it.
He wanted my “nambre” and phone number. I told him, “Me llamo… Lauren.”
When I speak Spanish, I don’t sound like a total gringa. If I'd been quicker, I probably could have gotten away with being from Spain. But I gave my real name, sounding totally, 100% estadounidense.
Anyway, he must be really thick, because he didn't question it and continued trying to Spanishify his English to help me understand him.
I told him I had a novio. He didn’t understand that, so I mimed someone taller than me, and pretended to hug my invisible novio. He asked if I was married. I shook my head "No," but realized I shouldn't acknowledge that I understand English. (Incidentally, it's really rather difficult to pretend not to understand someone when you actually do.)
Unfortunately, he was waiting for the same bus I was.
When we got on the bus, he asked if I drove in Spain, pantomiming using a steering wheel. I played confused, acted as though I suddenly understood, and told him no, I didn’t drive there, because there was a metro in Madrid ("El metro, como el beh-teh-ese," I said, while pointing up to the BTS station) and people like to walk. I told him Madrid was very beautiful. Of course, the only word of it he probably understood was, “No.”
He had to get off at the same stop as me, but so did a lot of people. I let the crowd separate us, put on my sunglasses, and made a quick escape, succumbing to a fit of giggles as soon as I knew I was out of sight.
I was standing alone at a bus stop on Sukhumvit after lunch today. Mariela and Alyssa had taken the BTS to read at Starbucks. I wanted to try out bus 2 since Navin (the tailor) told me it ran near my road.
Naturally, a woman who’s standing by herself wants to be approached by a strange man, right? After I had been standing there for two or three minutes, this guy walked up to me and asked, “Do you speak English?”
He didn’t look Thai, and I couldn’t place his accent. Ever-suspicious, I said the first thing that popped into my head.
“No, no entiendo ingles,” I replied, looking distinctly non-latina and definitely non-European.
“Ohhh. Spanish?”
“Si, si,” I said, naively thinking he’d lose interest.
But he didn’t lose interest. He said he had a friend back in New York who knew a little Spanish and he, in turn, knew un poquito.
"Does 'Si' mean 'Yes'?" he wanted to know.
Much to my amusement, he spent the next half-hour combining English, gestures, and the two or three Spanish words he knew to try to get me to understand him.
I honestly don’t know how I kept a straight face. Especially when he told me his name (“My nambre es Jason.”) and handed me a small slip of paper with his number on it.
He wanted my “nambre” and phone number. I told him, “Me llamo… Lauren.”
When I speak Spanish, I don’t sound like a total gringa. If I'd been quicker, I probably could have gotten away with being from Spain. But I gave my real name, sounding totally, 100% estadounidense.
Anyway, he must be really thick, because he didn't question it and continued trying to Spanishify his English to help me understand him.
I told him I had a novio. He didn’t understand that, so I mimed someone taller than me, and pretended to hug my invisible novio. He asked if I was married. I shook my head "No," but realized I shouldn't acknowledge that I understand English. (Incidentally, it's really rather difficult to pretend not to understand someone when you actually do.)
Unfortunately, he was waiting for the same bus I was.
When we got on the bus, he asked if I drove in Spain, pantomiming using a steering wheel. I played confused, acted as though I suddenly understood, and told him no, I didn’t drive there, because there was a metro in Madrid ("El metro, como el beh-teh-ese," I said, while pointing up to the BTS station) and people like to walk. I told him Madrid was very beautiful. Of course, the only word of it he probably understood was, “No.”
He had to get off at the same stop as me, but so did a lot of people. I let the crowd separate us, put on my sunglasses, and made a quick escape, succumbing to a fit of giggles as soon as I knew I was out of sight.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
rain
Today's excursion was a double fail. Worst attempt yet.
Mariela and I wanted to go see the reclining Buddha today at Wat Pho. I had looked up which buses we could take, and there was one - 512 - whose route stopped not too far from our street.
We took a free bus up the road and spend some time figuring out which direction bus 512 would come from. We walked around for 15 minutes in the sun. We climbed some stairs to get a better view of the traffic situation. 512 was nowhere in sight.
Reclining Buddha = 0%.
Luckily, I had read about another temple nearby, notable for its forested meditation area. It was between Siam and Centralworld, so we were able to take the skywalk and stay above the crowded sidewalks.
When we got there, it started drizzling. No matter - we had umbrellas. But little rainstorms quickly turn into downpours here, and we had just started walking around the temple's grounds when the sky opened up.
We decided to wait it out in the dry, air-conditioned Siam Paragon mall.
Several hours later, tired and ready to go home, we ventured back out to the skywalk. (Other random temple = 0%.) Down below, the streets had turned into rivers! We watched a poor pedestrian wading through ankle-deep water as he crossed between two sidewalks.
We had planned to take a bus home, but after seeing the water level, we didn't want to wade through the street to board.
Walking wasn't much better, though, as we had to make multiple crossings through cold, dirty, gray water that reached as high as our calves.
Even worse, heavy rain forces cockroaches out of their hiding places, giving you yet another thing to try and avoid.
Mariela and I wanted to go see the reclining Buddha today at Wat Pho. I had looked up which buses we could take, and there was one - 512 - whose route stopped not too far from our street.
We took a free bus up the road and spend some time figuring out which direction bus 512 would come from. We walked around for 15 minutes in the sun. We climbed some stairs to get a better view of the traffic situation. 512 was nowhere in sight.
Reclining Buddha = 0%.
Luckily, I had read about another temple nearby, notable for its forested meditation area. It was between Siam and Centralworld, so we were able to take the skywalk and stay above the crowded sidewalks.
When we got there, it started drizzling. No matter - we had umbrellas. But little rainstorms quickly turn into downpours here, and we had just started walking around the temple's grounds when the sky opened up.
We decided to wait it out in the dry, air-conditioned Siam Paragon mall.
Several hours later, tired and ready to go home, we ventured back out to the skywalk. (Other random temple = 0%.) Down below, the streets had turned into rivers! We watched a poor pedestrian wading through ankle-deep water as he crossed between two sidewalks.
We had planned to take a bus home, but after seeing the water level, we didn't want to wade through the street to board.
Walking wasn't much better, though, as we had to make multiple crossings through cold, dirty, gray water that reached as high as our calves.
Even worse, heavy rain forces cockroaches out of their hiding places, giving you yet another thing to try and avoid.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
que dios te bendiga!
Sometimes you want a fruit smoothie and a quiet walk home. Sometimes you get a fruit smoothie and a frantic Peruvian man instead.
I was minding my own business at a corner smoothie shop, sipping on some pineapple-banana deliciousness, when a man walked up.
"Do you speak English?"
"Yes."
"Hablas español?"
"...Si..."
And then a rush of rapid-fire Spanish that I didn't understand.
"Señor, mi español no es tan bueno. Necesita hablar más despacio."
So he slowed down. Kind of. He needed to make a phone call to Kuala Lumpur and was having trouble with the international calling card he'd bought. I told him I had never used a card like that before. There were no instructions on it, which didn't matter, because he didn't know any English.
I spent the next hour figuring out how exactly I could help him make this oh-so-essential phone call. Turns out, he had the country codes written down incorrectly.
After a few failed attempts at finding this information (including calling a Thai phone number he had on a scrap of paper and subsequently leaving some Thai lady thoroughly confused on the other end), we wound up in the lobby of a nearby hotel.
There, I told the concierge about our problem (because by this point, it was my problem, too), she made a couple of phone calls, and 10 minutes later we had country codes for Peru and Malaysia.
We walked outside where I tried no fewer than 12 different combinations of adding or taking away plus signs and zeros from the phone number.
When I finally got through to Kuala Lumpur, I handed him the phone. He talked for three or four minutes without taking a breath, hung up, and thanked me effusively, asking if he owed me anything.
"No, no, it's perfectly all right..."
"Gracias, gracias," etc.
"De nada. Que Dios te bendiga!"
He strode away and I walked home, thinking about how surprising life can be and thanking God that my parents convinced me to take Spanish in high school instead of Latin.
I was minding my own business at a corner smoothie shop, sipping on some pineapple-banana deliciousness, when a man walked up.
"Do you speak English?"
"Yes."
"Hablas español?"
"...Si..."
And then a rush of rapid-fire Spanish that I didn't understand.
"Señor, mi español no es tan bueno. Necesita hablar más despacio."
So he slowed down. Kind of. He needed to make a phone call to Kuala Lumpur and was having trouble with the international calling card he'd bought. I told him I had never used a card like that before. There were no instructions on it, which didn't matter, because he didn't know any English.
I spent the next hour figuring out how exactly I could help him make this oh-so-essential phone call. Turns out, he had the country codes written down incorrectly.
After a few failed attempts at finding this information (including calling a Thai phone number he had on a scrap of paper and subsequently leaving some Thai lady thoroughly confused on the other end), we wound up in the lobby of a nearby hotel.
There, I told the concierge about our problem (because by this point, it was my problem, too), she made a couple of phone calls, and 10 minutes later we had country codes for Peru and Malaysia.
We walked outside where I tried no fewer than 12 different combinations of adding or taking away plus signs and zeros from the phone number.
When I finally got through to Kuala Lumpur, I handed him the phone. He talked for three or four minutes without taking a breath, hung up, and thanked me effusively, asking if he owed me anything.
"No, no, it's perfectly all right..."
"Gracias, gracias," etc.
"De nada. Que Dios te bendiga!"
He strode away and I walked home, thinking about how surprising life can be and thanking God that my parents convinced me to take Spanish in high school instead of Latin.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
mi amigo
I went to the tailor shop after church today to take my dress back and (hopefully/finally) get the lining fixed properly.
I put the dress on, and Navin, one of the employees, pinned it. I was all ready to leave, but he insisted that I stay and have a drink of water. Navin and another employee got to telling me about their lives and families back in Burma, how they came here to find good jobs, how they worked illegally for awhile, and about all the struggles they went through as illegal immigrants.
Navin hasn't been home since he arrive four years ago. His mom always asks when he'll be back. "Next year, Mom." But, he told me, next year never comes.
"How can I go home and visit when that money could feed them for a year? So I stay."
Anyway, he said my dress would be ready and he could drop it by on Tuesday night.
This evening, Navin called me up to chat. He said he liked that I really listened as they talked. Then he asked if we could be friends. (Yeah - I know...) I couldn't say no!
Over the next 20 minutes or so, he covered a wide variety of topics including (but not limited to) alcohol, food preferences, astrology, past girlfriends, Thai cuisine, money troubles, and his family life.
Tonight, I had four missed calls from the tailor shop's cell phone. What have I gotten myself into?
I put the dress on, and Navin, one of the employees, pinned it. I was all ready to leave, but he insisted that I stay and have a drink of water. Navin and another employee got to telling me about their lives and families back in Burma, how they came here to find good jobs, how they worked illegally for awhile, and about all the struggles they went through as illegal immigrants.
Navin hasn't been home since he arrive four years ago. His mom always asks when he'll be back. "Next year, Mom." But, he told me, next year never comes.
"How can I go home and visit when that money could feed them for a year? So I stay."
Anyway, he said my dress would be ready and he could drop it by on Tuesday night.
This evening, Navin called me up to chat. He said he liked that I really listened as they talked. Then he asked if we could be friends. (Yeah - I know...) I couldn't say no!
Over the next 20 minutes or so, he covered a wide variety of topics including (but not limited to) alcohol, food preferences, astrology, past girlfriends, Thai cuisine, money troubles, and his family life.
Tonight, I had four missed calls from the tailor shop's cell phone. What have I gotten myself into?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
they're causing me alarm
Ants are an inevitability in any apartment in Bangkok. I was warned before I left the U.S., but I was unprepared for the irksome reality.
They crawl across the floor, on your bed, and up and down the tile bathroom walls. They're on the table. They're on the dresser. They're outside, inside, everywhere. They eat things. They are incredibly resourceful little beasties.
A few weeks ago, I was digging through one of my suitcases, looking for a shirt I had packed away. I noticed an ant, and wondered what business it had nosing around in my luggage.
I moved some shirts. More ants. I dumped everything out of the suitcase, trying to see what they were after. I found the answer in a mesh side pocket: A chewy peanut buttery granola bar.
I am baffled as to how they sniffed it out. Its shiny plastic package was unopened and zipped away in the bottom of a suitcase. When I inspected the wrapper, I could see tiny holes where ants had eaten through the plastic. I took it outside to my balcony and gingerly unwrapped it. They were swarming over the peanut butter deliciousness that was meant to be my going-home snack in April. Phooey.
That was the craziest thing I'd seen them do, until yesterday. I was putting a shirt in my laundry bag and noticed one of the little fiends crawling around in my dirty clothes. I pulled out a shirt and shook it. I took everything out of the bag and found three or four ants.
I inspected my clothes, because I'd heard the ants are attracted to sweat. A pair of brand new underwear had tiny little ANT HOLES in it. Grrrrrrrr. I was so mad!
I gave all the clothes a thorough shaking and laid them on a chair. I went on tidying my room, organizing my shelf and throwing things away. I moved an unopened box of tampons and saw an ant crawling along the seal.
What the heck?! I wondered.
I opened the box and ants swarmed out! I gave a yelp and dropped it. I dumped the contents out. Ants, ants, ants, crawling all over the stupid tampons! It didn't look like they had eaten through the wrappers, but what were they doing in there??
Like everything here, it's useless to fight it. You either adjust, or walk around in ant-eaten clothes. So, I'm going to start washing the sweat out of my clothes in the sink and hanging them up to dry before putting them in the laundry bag.
There are some things about Thailand I won't miss. Crazy sweat-eaters are one of them.
They crawl across the floor, on your bed, and up and down the tile bathroom walls. They're on the table. They're on the dresser. They're outside, inside, everywhere. They eat things. They are incredibly resourceful little beasties.
A few weeks ago, I was digging through one of my suitcases, looking for a shirt I had packed away. I noticed an ant, and wondered what business it had nosing around in my luggage.
I moved some shirts. More ants. I dumped everything out of the suitcase, trying to see what they were after. I found the answer in a mesh side pocket: A chewy peanut buttery granola bar.
I am baffled as to how they sniffed it out. Its shiny plastic package was unopened and zipped away in the bottom of a suitcase. When I inspected the wrapper, I could see tiny holes where ants had eaten through the plastic. I took it outside to my balcony and gingerly unwrapped it. They were swarming over the peanut butter deliciousness that was meant to be my going-home snack in April. Phooey.
That was the craziest thing I'd seen them do, until yesterday. I was putting a shirt in my laundry bag and noticed one of the little fiends crawling around in my dirty clothes. I pulled out a shirt and shook it. I took everything out of the bag and found three or four ants.
I inspected my clothes, because I'd heard the ants are attracted to sweat. A pair of brand new underwear had tiny little ANT HOLES in it. Grrrrrrrr. I was so mad!
I gave all the clothes a thorough shaking and laid them on a chair. I went on tidying my room, organizing my shelf and throwing things away. I moved an unopened box of tampons and saw an ant crawling along the seal.
What the heck?! I wondered.
I opened the box and ants swarmed out! I gave a yelp and dropped it. I dumped the contents out. Ants, ants, ants, crawling all over the stupid tampons! It didn't look like they had eaten through the wrappers, but what were they doing in there??
Like everything here, it's useless to fight it. You either adjust, or walk around in ant-eaten clothes. So, I'm going to start washing the sweat out of my clothes in the sink and hanging them up to dry before putting them in the laundry bag.
There are some things about Thailand I won't miss. Crazy sweat-eaters are one of them.
Friday, September 11, 2009
it's the little things...
Lunch today was awesome.
Actually, the entrees were mediocre, but one of the P3 students had a birthday today and his mom brought goodness-knows-how-many cakes to the lunchroom for the third graders.
But not just any cakes. No. These were Neapolitan ice cream cakes from Swensen's. YUM! Mariela and Alyssa spied a few leftover slices on the end of the teacher's lunch table. We made short work of them.
In other news, I have two weeks of classes and a week of testing before the three-week holiday. The time has flown, and so much has changed since I first got here. Or maybe I've just changed.
I've gotten into the swing of things. I know what the job duties and expectation are. I'm enjoying my students more than I first was - they make me laugh.
I've gotten more patient with correcting their mistakes while grading, too. For the first few weeks, I was an angry, irritable grader. It's still a chore, but I no longer hate grading with the fire of a thousand suns. Of course, ice cream cake helps with that.
Actually, the entrees were mediocre, but one of the P3 students had a birthday today and his mom brought goodness-knows-how-many cakes to the lunchroom for the third graders.
But not just any cakes. No. These were Neapolitan ice cream cakes from Swensen's. YUM! Mariela and Alyssa spied a few leftover slices on the end of the teacher's lunch table. We made short work of them.
In other news, I have two weeks of classes and a week of testing before the three-week holiday. The time has flown, and so much has changed since I first got here. Or maybe I've just changed.
I've gotten into the swing of things. I know what the job duties and expectation are. I'm enjoying my students more than I first was - they make me laugh.
I've gotten more patient with correcting their mistakes while grading, too. For the first few weeks, I was an angry, irritable grader. It's still a chore, but I no longer hate grading with the fire of a thousand suns. Of course, ice cream cake helps with that.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
love and marriage
I was talking tonight with a mom I tutor for and weddings came up. She said Thais invite everyone they know to their weddings, including coworkers. The average guest list is around 1,000 people.
I can't imagine trying to pay for a soiree like that. But she told me receptions here are more like cocktail parties, since you'd have to sell a kidney to fund a sit-down meal for 1,000 guests.
This mom also said a law was recently passed here saying that women are no longer required to take their husband's last name. She told me more women are opting to keep their last names since the divorce rate is so high (around 50%, like the U.S.). Women don't want to go through the hassle of changing their names, just in case it doesn't work out.
Seems to me you're doomed from the start if you take that attitude.
I can't imagine trying to pay for a soiree like that. But she told me receptions here are more like cocktail parties, since you'd have to sell a kidney to fund a sit-down meal for 1,000 guests.
This mom also said a law was recently passed here saying that women are no longer required to take their husband's last name. She told me more women are opting to keep their last names since the divorce rate is so high (around 50%, like the U.S.). Women don't want to go through the hassle of changing their names, just in case it doesn't work out.
Seems to me you're doomed from the start if you take that attitude.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Questo il beccio di Tosca!
Some of the girls went out tonight for a dose of high culture at the opera. I'd never been to an opera before. I tried to put preconceived notions out of my mind, but part of me kept hoping a fat lady in a viking hat would show up.
We saw Puccini's Tosca. It was tragic, but good. I wish I were so vocally gifted.
There were English and Thai subtitles projected onto screens on either side of the stage, but I enjoyed trying to figure out as many words as possible based on my Spanish.
It wasn't until I got to Thailand that I realized how much I like foreign languages. I feel like a spy trying to crack the code. Every street sign or poster I pass is a secret message, waiting to be deciphered.
As of right now, I can read about seven Thai consonants and two vowels... out of 44 and 28, respectively. Baby steps, people, baby steps. Did I mention that Thai is hard?
I know some quasi-useful words and phrases, though.
Hello, goodbye, yes, no, thank you, left, right, the color blue, the color purple, beautiful, ginger chicken with rice, chicken, pork, the numbers through 100, "Look at this/that.", "How much is it?"
Hm. I guess that's about it. Now that I can see my Thai vocabulary enumerated, I'm pretty unimpressed with myself.
We saw Puccini's Tosca. It was tragic, but good. I wish I were so vocally gifted.
There were English and Thai subtitles projected onto screens on either side of the stage, but I enjoyed trying to figure out as many words as possible based on my Spanish.
It wasn't until I got to Thailand that I realized how much I like foreign languages. I feel like a spy trying to crack the code. Every street sign or poster I pass is a secret message, waiting to be deciphered.
As of right now, I can read about seven Thai consonants and two vowels... out of 44 and 28, respectively. Baby steps, people, baby steps. Did I mention that Thai is hard?
I know some quasi-useful words and phrases, though.
Hello, goodbye, yes, no, thank you, left, right, the color blue, the color purple, beautiful, ginger chicken with rice, chicken, pork, the numbers through 100, "Look at this/that.", "How much is it?"
Hm. I guess that's about it. Now that I can see my Thai vocabulary enumerated, I'm pretty unimpressed with myself.
Monday, September 7, 2009
no more pooh rice for me...
My beloved Cholada Cafe - the restaurant on the second floor of my apartment building that always molds my steamed rice into the shape of a bear - is closing at the end of the week.
I'd like to observe a moment of silence for this loss.
They're moving to somewhere off Sukhumvit Road. It'll probably be better for their business, but I'm pretty bummed about it. Their gai pad king was the best!
And Cute Little Boy will be gone. I'll miss the slapping noise his tiny foam sandals made as he spent the days tearing up and down the halls.
*sniffle*
I'd like to observe a moment of silence for this loss.
They're moving to somewhere off Sukhumvit Road. It'll probably be better for their business, but I'm pretty bummed about it. Their gai pad king was the best!
And Cute Little Boy will be gone. I'll miss the slapping noise his tiny foam sandals made as he spent the days tearing up and down the halls.
*sniffle*
Sunday, September 6, 2009
English Camp is done!
I was too tired to write about English Camp last night, but it went well. The teachers remembered our intro rap, the morning stations ran more or less smoothly, and the afternoon talent show of skits and songs was entertaining.
The kids liked Dirt and Worms, although some said it was too sweet. I never thought anything could be too sweet for a Thai. Chocolate pudding and Oreos is the limit, apparently.
In the afternoon, we voted on the three best songs or skits (out of 10 acts, total) and those teams advanced to play camping Jeopardy. This was fun for the three teams that got to come onstage to play, but the other seven groups got bored pretty quickly.
I came home at 4:00, showered, and crashed. I woke up to eat some leftover tuna sandwiches Nummon sent home with me, and sat around my apartment like a zombie, too tired to go out to dinner with Alyssa, Mariela, and Simone.
Now I can look forward to the October break!
The kids liked Dirt and Worms, although some said it was too sweet. I never thought anything could be too sweet for a Thai. Chocolate pudding and Oreos is the limit, apparently.
In the afternoon, we voted on the three best songs or skits (out of 10 acts, total) and those teams advanced to play camping Jeopardy. This was fun for the three teams that got to come onstage to play, but the other seven groups got bored pretty quickly.
I came home at 4:00, showered, and crashed. I woke up to eat some leftover tuna sandwiches Nummon sent home with me, and sat around my apartment like a zombie, too tired to go out to dinner with Alyssa, Mariela, and Simone.
Now I can look forward to the October break!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
pomegranate
I love how Thai people are thoughtful in really random ways.
I was eating lunch on Friday in the teacher lunchroom, as always. Ekapol came in and sat down at the opposite end of the table, as always. He never sits next to us, for some reason, but he'll carry on a conversation with us from the other end of the table, or even from the next table over.
I was chatting with Mariela and Alyssa when he asked me if I saw the pomegranate.
"Pomegranate? Out there on the lunch table? No, I didn't see it... Where was it?"
No, he told me, not on the lunch buffet table - on my desk. I hadn't seen a pomegranate on my desk, I told him, but I hadn't been at my desk for a few hours.
"Oh, I bought a pomegranate yesterday at a vendor, and he wanted to go home, so I bought another one for you. Have you tried it?"
I told him I'd never eaten pomegranate before, and that I was looking forward to it.
I was eating lunch on Friday in the teacher lunchroom, as always. Ekapol came in and sat down at the opposite end of the table, as always. He never sits next to us, for some reason, but he'll carry on a conversation with us from the other end of the table, or even from the next table over.
I was chatting with Mariela and Alyssa when he asked me if I saw the pomegranate.
"Pomegranate? Out there on the lunch table? No, I didn't see it... Where was it?"
No, he told me, not on the lunch buffet table - on my desk. I hadn't seen a pomegranate on my desk, I told him, but I hadn't been at my desk for a few hours.
"Oh, I bought a pomegranate yesterday at a vendor, and he wanted to go home, so I bought another one for you. Have you tried it?"
I told him I'd never eaten pomegranate before, and that I was looking forward to it.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
success!
Mariela and I did a pudding test run in the school kitchen a little while ago. It was easy and it tastes great! I'm super excited to make 150 servings of it tomorrow.
Huzzah!
Huzzah!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
We're English teachers.
I'm sitting in the back of a cab, thinking about English past tenses...
"What's another verb that ends in -ish? Wish... fish..."
"Dish."
"Wish, wished. Fish, fished. Dish, dished."
"Squish!"
"Squish, squished."
"I say squashed - 'I squashed a bug.'"
"But you can say squished, too."
"Yeah, but they're not interchangeable. Squashed is like..."
*smacking one palm down onto the other*
"...and squished is like..."
*slowly curling fingers into a ball as if squeezing playdough through them*
"So, I guess squished is more like a substance oozing out, and squashed is used for things you flatten."
"Yeah. So... the person in the middle of the back seat is squashed, but mud is squished."
"You can't squish just anything."
"Squash, squish, squish, squash."
"Can you squish a squash?"
"..."
"What's another verb that ends in -ish? Wish... fish..."
"Dish."
"Wish, wished. Fish, fished. Dish, dished."
"Squish!"
"Squish, squished."
"I say squashed - 'I squashed a bug.'"
"But you can say squished, too."
"Yeah, but they're not interchangeable. Squashed is like..."
*smacking one palm down onto the other*
"...and squished is like..."
*slowly curling fingers into a ball as if squeezing playdough through them*
"So, I guess squished is more like a substance oozing out, and squashed is used for things you flatten."
"Yeah. So... the person in the middle of the back seat is squashed, but mud is squished."
"You can't squish just anything."
"Squash, squish, squish, squash."
"Can you squish a squash?"
"..."
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
homemaking
The students made a list of classes they take in their workbook yesterday. Along with Thai, history, and geography, several mentioned something called "vocational."
I asked Nummon about it. She said the kids learned cooking, flower arranging, sewing, and sweeping.
"Sweeping?!" I said.
"Yes, you know, what the different tools are, how to use a broom..."
"Why do they learn to use a broom at school?"
"Because it's something they need to know later in life."
She said this as if sweeping were a totally normal thing to teach a fourth grader in a school class.
How much instruction is involved, I wonder? I mean, the only way you can really mess up is by holding the brushy end up and scraping the stick against the ground... but you'd think most people would figure that out without 30 minutes of classroom instruction.
I asked Nummon about it. She said the kids learned cooking, flower arranging, sewing, and sweeping.
"Sweeping?!" I said.
"Yes, you know, what the different tools are, how to use a broom..."
"Why do they learn to use a broom at school?"
"Because it's something they need to know later in life."
She said this as if sweeping were a totally normal thing to teach a fourth grader in a school class.
How much instruction is involved, I wonder? I mean, the only way you can really mess up is by holding the brushy end up and scraping the stick against the ground... but you'd think most people would figure that out without 30 minutes of classroom instruction.
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