Viagra and Halloween

Stepping foot on Burmese soil is a disturbing experience. As soon as you get off the boat, children no older than five are tugging and pulling on you, trying to sell Viagra and horse tranquilizers, saying that they are hungry and that they need the money to eat. Dogs are hardly recognizable, and I was almost sick when I saw a half-alive dog with pink intestines hanging out of its stomach in the middle of the street. Ranong, where I went through immigration, is ravaged from the country's ongoing internal and external turmoil without any prospect of indemnification. The streets are stained brown, which I learned from a local was blood that has not washed away.
Crossing the border is equally threatening, particularly with the violent animosity between Burma and Thailand. The Burmese are so hated by the Thais that the border is constantly rising in death toll, with several Burmese fisherman being killed by Thais and vice versa. This is particularly true of late, but the killings usually occur at night.
I'm back in Thailand.
Today is Halloween, and as I'm sure Kaitlin is particularly aware, I am slightly bitter at not being able to properly celebrate my favorite holiday. In lieu of a costume and Snickers, I taught a full lesson on this special day, and am quite pleased with my tutorial on candy and witches and pumpkins. I think I might have frightened some of the kids when I acted out ghosts and monsters, but they eventually caught on. Their recital of "Trick or Treat" and "Happy Halloween" is furthermore impeccable.
On an extremely bright note, Jon went out of town and left me his dog, Foxy, for a full three weeks. She's adorable, but all the dogs that live on our front porch are giving her a hard time.

Nap Time Again

My kids are napping again. There is a student in my class, Top, who I know for certain is in worse shape than several of my patients at the Drake Institute back in California. I don't know how ADD/ADHD and Asberger's Syndrome stand here in Thailand, but I'm determined to find out. Nevertheless, I adore my students. I love how they say 'Teacher Christine' and, I'm slightly ashamed to admit, I love that they wrestle each other to hold my hand. I love that instead of apples, they bring me mangosteens or green oranges everyday and put them on my desk and that whatever they are eating or playing, they want to share. I don't even mind that I have to wake up every morning before the sun rises or that the roads have been flooded every single day.
I never, ever imagined myself as a teacher, even if it only is for an impermanent amount of time. I'm scared to death of the prospect of motherhood, and being a teacher certainly never crossed my mind until I decided to come to Thailand a few months before I left. I'm thankful that I did it.
I have to go to Burma (Myanmar) tomorrow for a Visa Run. What a safe country (that, Christian, is sarcasm). Speaking of which, here's a new article on what is going on here in Thailand:
http://edition.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/asiapcf/10/27/thailand.terror.ap/index.html
On a different note (and as a means for venting), Thai language is the most difficult language I have ever heard or tried to learn. I mentioned a while ago that the language is entirely tonal, which is to say that the word 'sui' means both 'beautiful,' 'shit' and 'bad luck,' depending on how you pronounce it. There are four main tones, all of which are incredibly difficult for a Westerner to decipher. Similarly, Thais do not understand the difference between the English 'L' and 'R' since the distinctions do not exist in their alphabet. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked if I want lice with my soup. Since the English translation of Thai words is phonetic (why isn't phonetic spelled phonetically?) you will see different spellings of the same word wherever there is an attempt at English. Same as South Korea's capital is both 'Busan' and 'Pusan.' Anyway, if only you could see the reactions I get sometimes when I think I know what I'm saying.
I posted a few pictures from school.

Darasamut

My kids are napping. Yesterday, one of my girls wet herself and today a student (not mine) was meticulous enough to barf right outside my door. Other than the bodily excretions, I'm completely fascinated with how the school works. The day begins with meditation, during which time all children must sit on the floor with their hands placed one over the other and follow Thai prayers. This is followed by my lesson and then a snack of soy milk. Lesson and snack are followed by more lessons and other activities, including dancing around (I think for exercise) and coloring a lot. At lunchtime, I put 'prickly heat' powder on their faces to help make the heat more bearable. Other than that, I have to remind myself that it is almost unforgivably offensive to touch someone's head in any way. The children wear a different uniform everyday, as do I, making my 'wardrobe' extremely interesting.
Sometimes the students seem too young to be balancing two languages, but I have to remember that I was their age when I started French. It makes sense, I guess. In addition, I am taking on a second grade class starting next week. I'm still getting used to children bowing to me, though I shouldn't since it's part of the culture. I'm also trying to get used to their affectionate natures, especially their penchant for breasts. On top of that, I didn't shave my legs today and they seemed more than thrilled and amused to touch them.
I got my morotbike back. Peter, and everyone else, I'll heed your advice and be careful.
I'm almost finished with 'In Cold Blood,' which means, Aunt Sandy, that those questions in Trivial Pursuit are mine. Bring it on.
p.s. Nosnibor, Nosnibor... why did it take me to so long to figure out you spelled your name backwards? At least you're sticking to Josephine, as you should. Are you afraid to use your real name on the internet? Joseph Robinson. There. I did it. What? Come to Asia and visit Kent and me. (What are you doing in my old home state?) x

Motorbike 'Incident' #2 and Teaching

Not but one hour ago, Alison and I were driving home from Kata. To preface this, I should describe the particular road (the only road) between Kata and Nai Harn. It is the width of a one lane road- a driveway, perhaps- but it is divided into two lanes. It is entirely routed through the mountains and jungle, making it both ridiculously tricky to steer through as well as overgrown with foliage. This, however, doesn't seem to merit an apparent need for street lights, and since there isn't a single building (or hut, for that matter) along this road, there are no lights along the road at all. None.
Going up one of the hills, the throttle cable disconnected, meaning, simply, that the bike wouldn't move an inch. This also meant that, upon the bike's death (or coma, I hope), the headlight went out as well. Standing maybe a foot apart, we couldn't see each other. Looking in any direction meant staring at black. Additionally, with the motor of the bike off, we could hear all the animals and whatever else is in the jungle, which is disconcerting when you can't see a damn thing.
Long story short, we spent about 40 minutes standing out there until one of our friends was able to find a truck to come pick us up. Obviously, all is well and I was not mauled by an elephant.

Next up, teaching. Within the first five minutes of my very first class, one of the students barfed. Sweet, awesome. After the unannounced regurgitation, however, things went smoothly. I have 17 students who are the most affectionate children I've ever met. Actually, all children here are. I work a good deal with a Thai teacher, Sao, who doesn't speak or understand a word of English, so collaborating is slightly laborious. I'll admit that the most frustrating thing about working in another country is the language barrier. This setting in particular makes it difficult since my boss, my coworkers and my students don't know English. Contracts, rules, meetings... everything you pick up upon starting a new job can only be learned from trial and error here, with the hope that I won't do something terribly egregious or offensive. On the bright side, it's helping my Thai.

I will not stop feeding stray dogs.
p.s. Mom, I had a much greater chance of getting Bird Flu in Khao Lak when I was living with chickens and there were cases reported nearby, and I'm fine (I was sick, probably from sewage, but I'm on what Alison calls my 'pill cocktail' and I'm feeling much better. No Bird Flu.) I don't plan on petting or eating the roosters out my window. Maybe I'll throw a rock. Maybe.

Farang to Expat

I'm back in Phuket now and Al and I got a house. I have somehow realized a solid, permanent (kind of?) address with a lease entirely in Thai. It's near the beach in this little town called Nai Harn on the southern most part of the island. My one qualm is all the damn roosters in the backyard that not only wake me up repeatedly in the morning, but are somehow deficient in their squawking and thus take it upon themselves to practice yawping outside of my window for hours. If a normal rooster says, 'cockadoodledoo,' then these degenerates just croak, 'cockadoo....' in what I am certain is the equivalent of a redneck accent within the greater rooster kingdom. I imagine the bastards sitting out there saying to themselves, 'well hot damn, that wasn't it, let's try this again.' And again, and again.... stop dwelling on this, Christine.
The house is furnished (and my bedding is almost more glorious than what I had in Italy.) The house and the furniture both seem to have been implemented for the sole purpose of being incapable of absorbing spills. Spill something on the couch? No problem, it's pleather. Drop a drink on the floor? Not to worry, it's tile. Throw a full bottle of beer at the wall? It's ok, the walls are tile too. Additionally, I think word has reached the local dogs, already making me the dog lady. Three of them live on our front porch and the rest follow me everywhere. Speaking of which, I am swiftly running lower and lower on money, so Isaac, if there is a fund to be made, it will be mine not yours. If you would stop spending all your money on buying two airline tickets for one flight, I think you'd be ok.
Anyway, I don't know how we got so lucky with finding this house, but I'm really happy to have it. I don't want to post my address on here since that would be pretty thickheaded, but let me know if you want it (on that note, Trainie, thanks for the postcard, it is currently the one decoration I have in my room. As always, you pull my life together in some small way.)
I start teaching tomorrow. 8 hours of teaching Kindergarteners. That, I admit, is why this blog is so long and fluffy. I am procrastinating my lesson planning. I've also been trying to plan a trip through Laos, Cambodia and maybe Vietnam. I'll admit that I'm slightly scared to go to Vietnam for my own issues with the War and what it will mean to me. I honestly don't know how it will affect me, but I think I should do it. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, just ignore that mental schism. Bartley, your comment made my day. Isaac, yours made me want to go to Israel and castrate you.

Solicitation and Swollen Glands

I'm sorry to solicit you guys, so ignore this if you really aren't interested, but our projects in Khao Lak are desperately needing funds. Everything is done by hand, so the money goes towards equipment such as shovels, hammers, cement mix, etc. $1 is the equivalent of 40 Baht, meaning that a little goes a long way. If you do want to donate, here's how you do it: http://www.tsunamivolunteer.net/typo3/index.php?id=120
Now that my shameless solicitation is out of the way, I am (once again) sick. I think most likely my body is slightly overworked and pissed at me, but I'm just not getting better. I went through a course of antibiotics, which was mainly helpful in preventing infections when I would accidentally stab myself with a shovel in the sewage pit, but I'm still just as sick. I don't know why I'm ranting about this.
Moving on, remember how stupid I was for jumping off that cliff? A few of the volunteers here went to Phi Phi this past weekend and partook in some cliff jumping. Though they ended up at the same cliff where I was, the height from which I jumped is now blocked off. The lower two heights are still open, but evidently the point from which my stupid ass jumped is a danger zone. Dammit, Christine. (Mom, I promise not to do that again.)
On another note, I have officially cleared out the local store of dog food. There are so many stray dogs around here, and I'm sure a lot of you think this is futile, but I can't help it. I think I will definitely end up broke, but at least I'm spending it on dog food and not something useless.
Anyway, I haven't posted many pictures from Khao Lak, but I do have a few. Oh man, I really need to get some sleep.
p.s. itals- reunion yes.

Khao Lak

This is going to be long.
(As evident, I found a computer here in Khao Lak.)
I didn't know what to expect before I got here. It's been ten months since Khao Lak lost 6,000 people, ten months since the entire town was levelled, but only a few weeks since it really started to get back on its feet. The water by the shore has not settled, even now, and the sky is occasionally black at dusk. Debris such as mangled cars and personal belongings are still scattered along the road and beaches. The only thing here that seems untouched is the collective disposition of the people. I've met children who saw their parents crushed to death under a wall, moms who tried to save their children but couldn't, and people who have toted and disposed of more gruesome carnage than I can possibly imagine. Even several of the volunteers were here when the Tsunami hit, returning to Khao Lak after going home to bury loved ones who were here with them. Despite their losses, everyone is hopeful and smiling and welcoming.
Since I've been here, I have been working in a village called Tap Tawan, which is right outside of Khao Lak. It's a Sea Gypsy community located on a peninsula, meaning that when the Tsunami hit, it was overtaken on two sides. Every single building and house was completely demolished, which provides us with the task of building new houses. At the moment, I have three main jobs: Removing old foundations from underground, rendering walls and mixing cement, and- my absolute favorite (as well as the one on which I spend most my time)- digging and installing septic tanks. Said task involves several steps: digging an 8 foot hole into the ground (which includes hacking through root systems), lifting and planting three cement rings, and the best part of all... jumping into the rings after each is planted and scooping out sewage and water with buckets. If you want a better picture, when I finish at night I am drenched in sweat, dirt and shitty (literally) water. Too add to the filth, I am discovering muscles that I never knew I had and that they can ache in ways that I never knew they could. I am constantly dousing myself in Tiger Balm (you like that, Isaac, don't you).
My team consists of four other guys, all of whom are British and 'take the piss out of me' for being American. All good fun, chaps. We work alongside villagers as well, who also cook us lunch everyday (usually rice and fish heads or squid). Some of the children will bring us candy too, which interestingly is 'prawn' flavored. In total, workers consist of villagers, volunteers and the Peace Corps.

Last night, after we finished work, we loaded 19 volunteers into the back of a truck (with Andy driving, who doesn't even have a licence in the UK) and went to a remote town where they were celebrating the last night of the Vegetarian Festival. We were the only Westerners there- probably some of the only who have passed through there- so our presence was immediately known. Concerned that we would impose, we held back, but were immediately welcomed and encouraged- almost pushed- to join in. (I don't have pictures because I couldn't even think enough to take my camera out last night.)
We were ushered into a small, but very crowded shrine, where the mediums were preparing for trance. This is hugely sacred, and to be a part of it is mind blowing. By this I mean that not only were we allowed to watch, but we were accepted into the ceremonies and rituals. We were blessed with holy water, stamped with red ink and welcomed through the bridge of purification. It was surreal and something I will never take for granted. I'm immensely grateful and humbled and still not finished with processing any of it.

Have to go, but I did post some pictures from Khao Lak (no sewage shots, don't worry) as well as some from the Festival in Phuket: http://community.webshots.com/user/absinth143

Elephants and 'Velocity'

I was up and out at 6am this morning. Me, elephants and monks. It's a surreal feeling to be driving down a road and have to break for elephants crossing the street. I think as long as I'm here I won't get over it, no matter how commonplace.
6am also means a silent procession of monks walking from hut to hut for food offerings, whereupon they receive their sustenance from what the Buddhist community provides.
Changing subjects: I chose the word 'driving' carefully, implying indeed that I was the driver. Though my hip looks like the effects of slide tackling someone on cobblestone, cuts and bruises be damned. I can now ride that motorbike like it's my job.
But Alexis? Maybe you're right. I did coast into a telephone pole and rip off my side mirror. Wait. That was you. And wait a second... weren't you the one who rear-ended me? I believe I was sitting calmly in traffic when you overtook my oblivious little car from behind, laughing all the while.
J to the K bra.
I'm leaving for Khao Lak Sunday morning. Unless someone up there has their own computer that they plug into a phone line, I'm without internet for the next few weeks. I do still have my phone, but it's a bit dodgy at times and simply unreliable.
All I can say right now is that I wish Lauren and Augusta would be there to throw shingles at me whilst I roof a house. Bitches.
(p.s. I'm reading You Shall Know Our Velocity! by Dave Eggers, and though I initially thought I would dislike him since he's rather full of himself, it's hard to deny that he's an incredibly talented writer. I suggest it, especially if you like Joyce and/or Kerouac)

Motorbike Accident #1 (Mom, don't read)

The only way to get around Phuket is by motorbike. However, since Alison and I moved out of our house after the TEFL course ended and into a much more rural area, getting a motorbike taxi is not so much an option. Thus, we took it upon our (inexperienced) selves to rent one of our own.
Interestingly, there were no automatic bikes available. Since my classic automobile back in the States is standard, driving responsibilities implicitly fell on me (I know, they are NOTHING alike).
Starting out, we were ok- a bit wobbly, yes- but ok. A few minutes into it, I got the hang of it, so Alison hopped on the back and we headed into town.
(Mom, I told you not to read this. Stop reading)
Driving on the left side of the road? Fine. Driving with no lanes or traffic laws? Fine. Turning right in an intersection? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. In slow motion, of course, the bike tipped to the side and down we went, lodging ourselves between the pavement and the bike. Alison was able to get up, but since I was literally immobile and trapped under the bike (in the middle of the intersection), she had to pull me out. Bleeding and bruised, we got back on and continued. We are in fact rather battered, but there is no serious harm. Mom, since I know you didn't heed my commands, rest assured. I am fine. Moreover, I have to go to the hospital tomorrow for my Japanese Encephalitis shot anyway, so I'm sure they'll let me know if I'm missing an arm or something.
On another note, Al and I are staying in this establishment made entirely of thatch. It is perfect and peaceful without trying and it's hard to get myself to leave.
The Vegetarian/Self-Mutilation Festival is going well, though it really picks up this weekend. I'm leaving late Saturday or Sunday for Khao Lak to start work on construction.
I have to go eat.

Tsunami Relief and Self-Mutilation

Officially a foreign English Teacher now, I got a job as a Kindergarten teacher at Darasamut School here in Phuket. Thai schools go on break during October, so I have this month to do whatever I want. I am required to go to Malaysia in a few weeks to get my Immigrant B Visa (I'm an immigrant, weird?) but until then I'm heading up to Khao Lak to do Tsunami Relief.
Khao Lak was hit hardest by the Tsunami, wiping out over 1,000 people from this village (which is already small) and destroying nearly all buildings. Though it's been 10 months, the damage is extensive and many are still homeless. Thus, I backed out of going to Chiang Mai with Lisa and Emily and am instead going to head up there to do volunteer construction and relief work for a few weeks. Living conditions are really bad, I don't know where I am going to live and I need even more shots, but I'm really happy with this decision.
Until I leave, however, I'm lucky to be here in Phuket for the Vegetarian/Self-Mutilation Festival. The Chinese Buddhist influence provides for this annual event, which begins today and lasts all week. The vegetarian part is self-evident, but I know the Self-Mutilation bit sounds slightly out of place. Every year, Buddhist Mediums are selected to enter trance during this week and partake in acts such as stabbing themselves in the face and other parts of the body with metal rods (or any objects they can find), climbing ladders made of razor blades and walking over burning coals (I promise to post pictures, but if you're grossed out easily, don't look at them). The purpose is to prove the presence of a deity, who is theoretically protecting them from pain and serious harm. All of this takes place in the streets for everyone to see. In addition, partakers who are not designated Mediums must wear all white and observe the 10 commandments, which are as follows:
1. Abstain from killing animals
2. Abstain from eating all kinds of meat
3. Abstain from stealth and embezzlement
4. Abstain from harming others bodily or mentally
5. Abstain from telling lies, using obscene language or swearing at people
6. Abstain from touching people of the opposite sex or talking with them flirtingly
7. Abstain from taking alcohol or using narcotics
8. Abstain from gambling
9. Abstain from wearing ornaments including those made of metals or leather
10. Abstain from sharing receptacles or utensils or a meal with people who do not observe the commandments.
I'll try this for as long as I can... at least a couple of days. To be fair, though, I won't be starting today since this is Lisa's last night before she leaves for Chiang Mai and ultimately South Korea, where she is going to teach.
Let's face it; most are easy. Some are not. Furthermore, maybe I don't mind pain (I know that's what some of you are thinking), but there is no way in hell I am going to go around stabbing myself in the face.
I'm out.

p.s. Mom- The bombs you heard about were in Indonesia and were set off by Jemaah Islamiyah, Southeast Asia's main Islamic terrorist group. They are located in Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, the Philippines and Thailand, but this particular attack occurred nearly three years to the day of the 2002 bombings, which also were in Kuta. I'm fine.