the finished product

Yeah. I know what you're thinking.

"Man, I would totally hire this young woman and give her health insurance and vacation time!"

fitted out

I've begun my second foray into the tailoring world.

The first -- the little black dress attempt -- was only about halfway successful. I did end up with a dress, but A) it cost way too much and B) there is an all-too-noticeable rumple in the lining near the neck. They didn't fix it after asking them two or three times. I gave up.

I found a different tailor shop on the recommendation of a young Thai teacher. I played it safe and ordered a simple button-down shirt. It was inexpensive, turned out pretty well, and the fabric feels great, so I went back to be measured for a suit.

That's right: my first, grown-up business suit. (Or monkey suit, as my brother used to call them when he was a wee small child forced to wear them to church for special occasions. E.g. "Get me outta this monkey suit, Mom!")

I am 23 years old now, after all. It's time to look like an adult. Plus, in the event that I snag a job interview or two when I go home, I want to be properly attired.

I'll post pictures when it's finished.



On an unrelated note, I apologize for the curse word in my last post. I was all riled up about corruption and whatnot. Didn't mean to offend.

tickled pink?

For those who aren't in the know about the state of the King of Thailand, his health is deteriorating and he's been in the hospital for about two months.

Yesterday at work, our boss made an announcement.

"You need to wear pink every day in December, starting tomorrow."
Right. Okay. Thanks for the giving us plenty of time to find a new work wardrobe.

The King's astrologer, or someone, prescribed pink as an auspicious color to promote his health. The last time he left the hospital, he wore a pale pink shirt. If if we wear pink, he'll get better sooner.

I don't have any pink shirts, and I didn't have time to go shopping yesterday. I put on what I thought was the next best thing: a skirt with pink roses printed all over it. There are bits of black in the background of the print, but, overall, the skirt is dark and light pink. I wore a black top with it.

Nummon motioned for me to follow her into the hallway this morning. She had a pink pashmina in her hand and a concerned look on her face.

"Lalen, you need to wear this today. Your clothes are more like 80% black and 20% pink. No one in the school has to know this isn't your scarf."

I don't know who taught her percentages. I was under the impression that my ensemble was 50/50. But colors are taken seriously here, and black is a color of mourning. It's easier to nod and smile and wear the scarf.

So, today I'm experimenting with different scarf styles:

100-meter dash

Some people here jog in nicely landscaped parks - little oases of green in a world made of concrete.

I, for one, prefer to take my exercise while tearing down a sidewalk in flip flops and a pencil skirt.

Today, I had in mind that I'd take a bus from work to the Suan Lum night bazaar before meeting Alyssa and Mariela to walk to our Wednesday night Bible study. The bus driver had other plans.

I found a seat and the fare collecting lady came to ask where I was going. When I told her, she started talking to me in Thai. I stared up at her with my clueless do-I-look-like-a-Thai-speaker-to-you? look. She kept talking. I gave her a helpless-sounding, "Mai ru kah" ("I don't understand"). She sighed, took my change, and handed me a ticket.

Thirty minutes into the ride, she signaled for me to get off. We were nowhere near the night bazaar and I was confused. "Go to Suan Lum??" I asked. She shook her head. What choice did I have? I couldn't ask what was happening, so I got off.

Annoyed, but needing the restroom, I walked across a granite plaza, up some steps, and through the glass doors of a shopping mall.

I took three steps inside and stopped. I felt I was forgetting something.

Cursing, I wheeled around and ran out the door, pausing on the steps to survey the traffic. I had to find that bus; it was driving away with a bag containing my brand new work shoes! I had only worn them twice.

I spotted the bus 40 yards ahead. Traffic was moving slowly. I wasn't about to let go of those shoes - not when they were within sight.

I ran as fast as my skirt would allow. My flip flops slapped the pavement. Motorcyle drivers and bystanders stared.

I swerved around pedestrians, sprinting like a mad woman, praying the traffic wouldn't pick up speed, and wondering how long I should commit to chasing a pair of shoes that only cost me $4.50.

Traffic stopped and I caught up. I dodged taxis, cars, and motorbikes and ran to the doors, knocking and gesturing wildly. The ticket lady looked at me as if to say, "You again?!"

She and the driver shook their heads. I kept waving until they opened the door. I pointed to my feet - "Shoes!!" - and pointed back to where I had been sitting. The lady walked back with me and laughed when she realized what I was on about. I retrieved my cheap footgear and panted all the way back to the mall.

Last week in pictures

I see weird things in Bangkok all the time, but I don't always have my camera ready to capture them. Here are a few serendipitous moments from last week:

This was taken at a small promotional event for the new Michael Jackson movie in a bookstore in the Siam Paragon mall.



I have no idea what a horse's head has to do with MJ.


Moving on.



Apparently, having Mickey Mouse's arse sewn to yours is a fashion statement.


An last, an ad on the BTS for a local fast food place. Wedged between some OK-looking spaghetti and a pretty cake is a box-o-weiners.



Because what respectable party spread doesn't include the family-sized box of franks sliced to look like flower blooms?

a piñata would really sweeten the deal

Wednesday is the Queen's birthday. Tomorrow she will deliver a lengthy speech at the palace to an audience of 20,000 people - an audience of which I'll be a part.

Like every other event C--- School has dealings in, this one brings its own Thai craziness.

We were told about the dress code on Thursday or Friday - right before leaving for our weekend away - so we had almost no time to go shopping for the prescribed attire.

The Queen's color is blue, so we must wear blue. And a suit.

You did bring a suit, didn't you?

No. No, we didn't.

We didn't bring suits because we were expressly instructed by Prof. Mueller not to pack suits, because (and she emphasized this point) we'd have no need for suits.

Well, you must wear a suit, if you can find one.

One girl brought her suit jacket from home anyway, and a couple of people made it to a tailor to be measured before we left on Friday.

Oh, and by the way, you mustn't wear black...

Black is the color of mourning here, making it unsuitable for a birthday...

...and no gray either.

Because gray is... what? Black's ugly cousin? So, in the event that you decide to have a suit tailor-made for this shindig, you mustn't pick out the two most versatile and wearable colors. Heaven forbid you're able to wear this outfit again for a job interview.

My second gripe is that we were told to wear pantyhose.

Did I mention this speech takes place outdoors? And will last anywhere from one to three hours? In the hottest part of the day?

Yeah. Because in a crowd of 20,000 people at 2 in the afternoon, the Queen is going to notice and/or care that some farang teachers aren't wearing suit jackets and pantyhose.

To all this stuffiness I say, "Whatever!"

crocodile-proof garments

On the van ride to school this morning, one of the girls was telling a story about her former roommate's encounter with a crocodile. Specifically, she was relating how the girl screamed when she saw one two feet away from her and ran away as fast as she could.

Someone made the comment that screaming and running is probably not the best thing to do when faced with a crocodile. My question was, "What is the appropriate response?"

Then I got to thinking. This thought process normally takes place as an inner monologue. Today, however, I was thinking aloud. I said something like this:

Well, you could wear clothes made of iron. Special crocodile clothes. But then if the crocodile bit you, it's teeth might dent the clothes... and it would be like your clothes were biting you.

The girls sitting around me thought it was a really weird thing to say - probably because it was a really weird thing to say. I don't know what happened... It just came out.