a gift

On Saturday night I made my way to Hualamphong train station alone to begin my trip down south. My three friends had already flown to Surat Thani that afternoon. I decided to go the less comfortable -- but more affordable -- route, taking the overnight train followed by a midmorning boat to Ko Samui.

I was in the train station food court getting some pad thai, since the train didn't have real food. I was hot and tired from walking from the bus stop to the station with a heavy backpack.

I ordered my food and flopped down into a chair, observing my fellow diners while I waited. A guy was standing in line wearing a blue polo shirt, a navy coat with big, gold buttons, and a tiny pocketwatch hanging on a chain around his neck. He asked if he could sit with me.

I said OK and asked him if he worked at the train station -- the pocketwatch made me think he was a ticket taker or conductor or something. He said no. I complimented his necklace and we had a nice chat. I learned that he was an art student from Chiang Mai attending university in Bangkok. He was going home for the break between semesters.

As I ate my pad thai, I separated the nefarious bits of tofu from the rest of my food. He eyed it and asked if I didn't like tofu. I asked if he wanted it. He nodded, so I pushed the tofu pile onto his plate.

We finished our meals and as we walked toward the platform, he took off his watch necklace. "Here, I want you to have this," he said, as he dropped it in my hand. I tried to object, but he insisted. I put it on, and he told me it looked good.

His train was at the platform. He asked for my email address and we said goodbye. I sat down to wait for my train. He came over to me a few minutes later, handed me a bag of Bugles corn snacks, and boarded his train.

That's Thai hospitality for you. You know a person for less than an hour and they give you a memento and a snack.

'tis better to give...

I had my first bite of a traditional English pudding at the work Christmas party. It wasn't awesome. It tasted like raisins. I'm not sure what all the hype is about.

We had tons of food, I discovered a new salad recipe, and, after the gift exchange, my coworker Amy learned that you probably shouldn't go around pretending your stuffed, blue gingham water buffalo is a dog and begging people to trade. You will eventually run into the person who brought said buffalo, and you will embarrass yourself.

This was supposed to be a nice gift exchange, as opposed to a White Elephant exchange. The spending limit was 400 baht (about $12). The gift had to be appropriate for either sex.

It's funny, sometimes, the things people bring. There was the infamous buffalo that belonged in a Thai baby's crib, a People magazine, and a bag of Swedish fish. There were also gift cards to Starbucks, boxes of chocolate, and a cute mug accompanied by a box of Twinings tea.

It's so hit or miss sometimes, and people who bring really nice gifts are inevitably disappointed when they receive something like a giant curve-handled old person umbrella (how the heck are we supposed to get that home in a suitcase?!).

What do you prefer: "real gift" exchanges or White Elephant ones? Do you spend up to the limit? How do you find a gift for both genders?

something's fishy...

On Tuesday I was standing with the mom I tutor for, waiting for her daughter while she chatted with another mom. The other woman had two first graders - twin boys. They were sharing a bag of Big Sheet.

I've seen the kids munching on this stuff before. In its essence, Big Sheet is a crispy, paper-thin sheet of dried seaweed.

The twin in charge of holding the bag looked up at me with his big, sweet, brown eyes, shoved his hand into the bag, snatched a sheet, and offered it to me, beaming.

What choice did I have?

I accepted it and moved it closer to my mouth. It smelled like fish food.

I took a bite. It tasted like fish food.

He was watching me eat; I couldn't throw it in the shrubs. I ate an entire sheet of reconstituted, flattened fish food. Sick.

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.

clash of civilizations

Lessons of the day:

1. Lotus flowers are only for monks, Buddhas, or people you've seriously offended. They are not a good present for the school principal.

Alyssa and I wanted to give the principal some flowers as a thank-you for the lovely weekend at her home in Kanchanaburi. Alyssa chose some flowers she thought were pretty and came to school with them the next day.

One Thai teacher told us lotuses were for monks, etc., but she said the principal wouldn't mind since we obviously didn't know. And, the principal has lived in the U.S. before, so she knows different flowers don't have ceremonial significance there.

Later in the morning, though, Sukjai and another teacher tell us (repeatedly and emphatically) that the flowers are not suitable, but that we could buy different ones at a flower shop across from the school.

2. If you wish to give the Queen of Thailand a birthday gift, your birthday card's message is subject to inspection by the head of the English Department.

Kristy's mom brought a gift for the Queen's birthday when she came in June - a crystal dish or something (Now, what the Queen of Thailand is going to do with a crystal serving dish, I'm not sure. But that's beside the point). Kristy was told that she could give it to the school principal, and the principal would get it to the Queen.

She asked Sukjai how to address the Queen and what her card should say. Then she wrote it and sealed it.

Today, she was accosted by Sukjai and Picham, who wanted to read the card. She gave them a summary of what she wrote (because it was already sealed up). They told her to buy a new card, rewrite it, and let them see it first.

3. The Thai teachers in the Prathom English Department are exceedingly high-strung...

...Which is interesting, because I thought Buddhism was about non-attachment and the elimination of desire. I'd always thought of Buddhists as very chill people.

Maybe they've forgotten the Four Noble Truths. I'm pretty sure their desires for perfection are causing suffering. I'm sure they'd love it if I suggested as much.

from me to you

Thais like to give gifts. Erin, one of the American teachers, read somewhere that when you receive a gift from someone here, you're supposed to give them something of comparable value.

Thais also give gifts if you've helped them out in some way. I've experienced this twice with Nummon.

One day after lunch, she handed me a pastry from the campus bakery. It was shaped like a bear's head, with a little icing face. She said, "Thank you for helping me." I had no idea what I had done, but I accepted it.

Nummon was out sick all last week, so I taught on my own and spent my afternoons cutting out new pieces for the bulletin boards instead of grading. On Thursday, I was catching up on test grading. I had a question about one kid's answer, and I turned around to ask her about it.

Before I could say anything, she thrust a carton of grape juice into my hands and smiled. "Thank you for helping last week. It's got lots of vitamin C, so you won't get H1N1 flu."

What a weirdly thoughtful thank-you gift, I thought to myself. I liked it.