Upturned Girl

The beautiful thing about being friends with teachers is that you have so many more great student stories to share. I can't take full pride or credit for this gem of a student, but Charles just told me about one of his more advanced students. She came to him after class asking, "What does the word upturned mean? Someone called me an 'upturned girl,' is that...something sexual?" Charles wrote the word on the board to confirm he was hearing the word correctly. The girl said, "What does upturned mean exactly?" He replies, "Well...sort of lifted up and flipped over...like this," and makes a flip of the hand and a bend at the wrist, realizing that this wasn't what she wanted to hear. I'm sure she was convinced that someone had utterly insulted her with some sort of clever sexual phrase, "upturned girl."

She walked out of the classroom and Charles' head was reeling with other possible phrases sounding like upturned girl in order for her to save face. "Wait! Uptown girl??" he says.

"Yes! Uptown girl! That's it! What does this mean?"

"Uh, that you like to party a lot?"

She says, "So...same meaning?"

My Apologies

It's been way too long. I've unfortunately let go of trying to pick up the pieces of the last few months and put them in some sort of order, so this is my way of saying sorry for being away from the blog for so long. A few things have happened since I wrote last, and one of the more noticeable things is that life here has become normal. No longer exotic, and therefore I feel like there is not as much motivation to tell the stories about the things that are to me mundane. Here are a few tidbits from the last months that are certainly not mundane.

Hong Kong. The trip that I couldn't finish all the lovely stories about, and for which I will be eternally grateful. One of the highlights of the last day of the trip that I still tell people about on a regular basis is.....pink dolphins. They exist and I saw them in the wild. It was awesome. They were as pink as cotton candy! I was tearing up that night at the airport saying goodbye to my aunt and uncle, and Doug met Mare and I at the airport and she says, "Tell Doug what we saw today..." As the subway whistle blew, I burst out in tears yelling, "We saw pink dolphins!" Then I cried all the way home. Such a lovely trip.

Kuala Lumpur. Took a solo trip to KL at the first weekend of May or so. It was a while since I've traveled completely on my own so it was a great experience. Photos are up. Not a whole lot to say about the trip except for great food, great public transportation, and men who aren't afraid to try and pick up an American gal. My favorite incident: a middle eastern man comes up to me while I'm walking through a food market and says, "Hello. Where are you from?" "America."
"Come with me," he says.
"Huh??"
"Come with me. "
"No thank you."
"Oh, I'm sorry for you," and walks away. Baffling.

Charles' arrival. My lovely friend Charles has decided to embark on a Thailand adventure. He arrived at the beginning of May and may make a future appearance or two on the blog. He is also working in Chiang Mai and his company has definitely been worth the wait.

So I've been keeping busy with 'normal' life, but hopefully won't get too caught up in the old 'mundane' and will continue to share good stories. Pictures are up on Picasa, so browse as you may.

Easter in Hong Kong

Easter Sunday was perfect. We got up for mass and the church was beautiful. The funniest thing about a Catholic mass in China was during the offering of bread and wine at the end of service, what I've seen in the past was an orderly procession of one row of pews at a time. All of a sudden, everyone in the church stood up and bottle-necked into the aisles. Mare whispered, "Here comes the Chinese fire-drill" and I almost cracked up. Afterwards it was fun to see some of the faces I recognized during my first trip.

After the service we went back for a lovely traditional Easter brunch. Mare did an excellent job with the meal and the setting; all the delicious foods that I had been missing since last Easter. Afterwards, I went on a search in the apartment for my Easter basket! Of course I looked everywhere and couldn't find it, so we had to resort to playing 'hot and cold.' It was in the dishwasher and I felt like a kid again. It was great.

That afternoon we went to the Space Museum (my request, of course) and even though the museum itself was a little outdated, it was still fun. I was surprised (but not really) that the majority of the first part of the museum was about rockets and the Chinese innovations with gun powder. I even got rigged up to a harness that was supposed to feel similar to what walking on the moon was like. The reality is they hook you up to this harness in a glass box and hold you just above the ground so your feet can't touch the ground. Not really what I imagine the moon to be, more just a sick joke in which the people running the harness get to hover helpless folks over the ground and laugh to themselves. Either way, we had a good time even though nothing in the museum had been updated for a decade or so.

That evening sums up exactly what I was hoping for in my trip to Hong Kong. We hung out in the living room eating cheese and fruit, drinking wine, and ended the night with a game of Scrabble. Couldn't ask for a better night, even though Mare beat us pretty bad a Scrabble because of the word 'ox.'

Jack & Rose

Before I continue the sequence of events in Hong Kong, I do have to tell a quick story from work today. I'm teaching 13 and 14 year-olds who are as rambunctious as they are adorable. For a game to end the lesson, I divided the class into two teams to play charades. I asked the first team what they want their 'team name' to be. "jsdfkhs" is what I heard, so often times when I can't understand them, I say, "Ok. Can you spell that for me please?" I hold the marker up to the board and wait. "J-a-c-k-a-double-s," one student says. When I look up at what I wrote, I start to laugh and realize that I should have let them spell it first rather than write as they spell a naughty word to me. I let it slide because I do know it's (unfortunately) the name of a popular singing group in Thailand. I ask the other team what their team name is. "Roses!" They say. Great!, I write it on the board. "No, no! R-o-s-e-a-double-s." The two teams were Jackass and Roseass. Super. I do have some control over my classroom, I swear. This is certainly funny at first glance, but I really lost control when I realized this was a play on the main characters of Titanic. I was nearly in tears and then these cute little kids start screaming, "I never let go, Jackass, I never let go!!"

Hong Kong Arrival and Lamma Island

I just happen to be the lucky girl who went to Hong Kong last week. I've been awful at keeping up with my life via the internet, so here is my big chance to catch up.

The flight to Hong Kong was pretty straightforward - I stepped on the plane with my hearing in tact, and stepped off the plane deaf. At immigration they check and stamp the ol' passport and since the identification photo gods were on my side one day, my passport picture is halfway attractive (ironically I was hungover the day it was taken, another story) but anyhow I was not looking so attractive when I stepped off the plane. So the immigration officer took a look at the photo and took a long hard look at me. 'I know I know, you think it's not the same person right?,' I thought. "What's your full name?," he says in an authoritative tone. "Huh?!!" (mind you I'm still deaf). He let me through. I couldn't even blame it on the jet lag.

Mare was on the other side of baggage claim to greet me smiling. We went back to the apartment, and since this was my second trip to the city, everything felt familiar. It was a good feeling. That first night I arrived pretty late and it was great to hang out with Mare and Doug, eat some of Mare's specialty soup and catch up a bit. I took a glorious bubble bath that I'd been dreaming about for days, maybe weeks, prior. Bathtubs are few and far between in Chiang Mai so before I left I told my friends that I was going to Hong Kong to spend Easter week with my aunt and uncle AND I was going to take bubble baths. "Wow! Lucky!," they'd say.

The next morning we took a ferry out to Lamma island, which is about a half hour away by boat. You better believe I slept the whole way. Before getting on the ferry Mare asked if I get seasick. Remembering my long ferry ride out to Koh Phi Phi island in Thailand last year, I said I don't get sick at all. As soon as we got on the upper deck of the ferry, we were nowhere near any windows, the boat was a rockin' and I started to feel queasy immediately. Boy did I feel dumb. I honestly thought for most of the initial ride that we were propelling backwards and going in circles like a car trying to parallel park. To cope, I pictured myself in a baby's crib rocking to sleep and all of a sudden I was out. I wasn't sick at all, just confused.

Lamma island was great! It feels like a small town with lots of Hong Kong tourists marching through. For some reason I thought it would be a quiet desolate island, but I should have known from the line that snaked around the block to get on the ferry that we wouldn't be the only ones there. It's a very cute place, with a scenic beach and an even more scenic factory beside the beach. One of my favorite moments was coming around a corner in a small residential part where there was a shack of a house with two huge speakers bigger than my TV that were blaring music. The irony of it killed me but Doug beat me to it: "Ya think those speakers are worth more than the house?" We hiked up and over the mountain to the other side where all the seafood restaurants are. We ate at a place called Rainbow Seafood and they have a Rainbow painted ferry that took us home after our meal. We were stuffed and out of commission for the rest of the night.

We watched The Dark Knight before bed and I just have to emphasize how cool it was to watch the scene when Batman jumps off the tall IFC tower and crashes into the small IFC tower. The real IFC towers were glowing through the living room window out of the corner of my eye, along with the rest of the skyline. Did I mention their view is amazing?

I will update with more from Easter weekend, the rest of the week, and more photos soon!

Don't Let the Jaws of Life Get You Down

Today I had lunch at a cafe that has an outdoor area that resembles a small jungle with wood lounge chairs and picnic tables. I was alone except for a stray kitten sitting in the chair next to me. Just as I was about to take the first bite of my lunch, another kitten trots past proudly. It had a limp pigeon hanging from it's mouth. The pigeon was bigger than the kitten. It was too disturbing to start my lunch, but intriguing enough not to look away. I guess I've never seen a kitten with quite the catch in real life. The sleeping kitten next to me jumped out of the chair and joined the other, both ready to tear the poor thing apart. I really wanted to not see this and eat my lunch, but it was like rubbernecking a car wreck. The kitten dropped the bird on the ground and started licking it's paws in preparation like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. It might as well twisted it's evil whisker mustache. Then the bird flew away. The biggest 'booya' I've ever seen in my life. I laughed alone at these two kittens who watched their lunch fly away, left with nothing but a few stray feathers floating around them like they just had a pillow fight.

The lesson: some may feel like they are clamped within the unforgiving jaws of life. Don't worry. Just when you think it can't get any worse, you'll be spit on the ground. That's your chance to turn the tables. Do it! Don't let the seemingly sweet kitty of life devour you like some sad diseased pigeon. Be the surprise! Some unsuspecting onlooker will really appreciate it and may even say, "What the...."

*There is no Thai translation for 'booya' - it's a universal language in itself.

Cheeky Kid

I have a student in my upper level class who is just too cool for school. He doesn't bring his text books, and he sits way too relaxed in the chair. He's a bit older and has the bad boy charm with the tats and the converse high tops and perfectly spiked hair (when he's not wearing his white ship captain's cap.. I kid you not on that one). The problem is, he's really sharp. Best vocabulary and fluency in the class. Not really a problem to have a bright student, only he uses his language skills in questionable ways. First of all, his confidence and charm causes all the girls to giggle like little school girls, which they are, I guess, but still. One gal who is normally quite good turns into mush if they have to practice speaking together, and he knows it. Her hand goes over her mouth and she can't get a word out over silent giggles. It looks like a disease...or choking. Speaking of these conversation exercises, he seems to turn any conversation topic (from travel to types of transportation to food preferences) into a way to practice pick up lines. No matter what, by the end of the conversation he is saying, "So you will come home with me tonight? We can get a room?" I think I might be the only other one who knows what he's saying. Today the students had to write a one page travel blog and post it on the wall for all to read. His was about spending time at the beach sharing coconut flavored drinks with a former political leader, picking up women, and contracting HIV by the end of the trip. Completely out of bounds. It upsets me more that his writing has near perfect grammar. I say 'near perfect' because during a group activity, he was sitting aside drawing a tattoo on his wrist in black ink with skulls and hearts with a banner: "Love Suck." I didn't have the heart to correct him.

Karaoke

Never gets old. There are a few karaoke places near my apartment, and we shopped around a bit for the one we like. The one we went to last time mysteriously went out of business, so it was just a big glass window with an empty space inside, with nothing left but a dusty table with a huge (gallon) empty bottle of Jack Daniels. It was a sad sight. So we went to the one next door and we were led to a small room with race car wallpaper and red couches. We thought we'd get our motorbike helmets to really get into character. Then the waiter said it was a two dish minimum. We came to sing! Not to eat! Who wants to do karaoke while eating anyway? We left. One last chance, and we found a good, but plain little place. They had decent (farang) music. We belted straight for two hours. My voice was shattered. We danced the whole time too, and our feet were sore. The servers kept walking by our little booth to peek in at what nonsense we were up to every few minutes. We'd wave through the little window and they'd duck away. Walking out, exhausted, we peeked in other rooms and everyone else was sitting looking half conscious, how boring. They were probably having a crappy time because they were stuck next to our obnoxious booth.

It's a Constant Game

I explained to someone today that teaching English is like a constant game called "Let's Understand Each Other!" The winner is the one who can use their words to best describe what they mean. Sounds simple, right? Extra points are for the person who can explain what they mean to say without using hand gestures. I lose at that part. I use my hands when I don't need to, waving them around as if that will make the student understand the meaning of the phrase "pretty much" (which, by the way, is more difficult to explain than you'd think).

I played an extreme game of that today with a student. She is the ultimate sweetheart. I asked her to express her opinion on motorbikes in Chiang Mai. I asked her to talk about the advantages and disadvantages. After talking about the advantages she said, "They will be to steal you." I said, "Do you mean they could steal the bike? They could steal your bag out of the basket?" She said, "They will be to steal you." I explained that if the object is 'you,' it means that the person is stolen, not the object. With the shake of her head... let the games begin. Through a series of short phrases, and gestures and sound effects, she won the game. Her intended meaning was starting to surface from the depths of my deductive sentences. "So you mean a man is driving a motorbike with a woman on the back.. then a bad guy comes up behind them and hits the man and then grabs the woman off the back of the bike and kidnaps her?!" She nods with glee and says "Kidnap! Kidnap her!" She writes 'kidnap' in her vocabulary book. Then she says, "What is the word for the bad man does some bad things with the woman?" I hesitate to say it.."Rape?" She nods and writes it down. I said, "Does that really happen?!" But I think what I really meant was 'did this whole conversation just happen?'

I played the same game with another student last week but he definitely lost because when he couldn't think of a proper word to use he would randomly throw in the word 'dominated.' As in 'My friend was so confused and... dominated.' This just made me laugh to myself and let him carry on. So I guess I lost that one too.

Sightseeing, by Lapcharoensap

This young Thai-American author gets it right, and I think it's noteworthy enough to recommend to anyone who is interested in short stories about Thailand life. The short stories cover topics like military drafting, gambling, farang-Thai relationships, work, family and globalization. I very much enjoyed it and even though I haven't had first hand accounts of what these characters experience throughout the five plots, I can still see the details that the author points out that I do experience everyday. Language barriers. Old men carrying their chickens like beloved souls. Thais' distaste for McDonald's hamburgers. The rifts between westerners and Thais. This book keeps a delicate balance between an English-reading audience and Thai 'inside jokes.' It's simple, funny, thought provoking and eye-opening. Very much like an American girl's perspective on life in Thailand. I dig it.

Exam Exaltation

Lost in the land of grading exams. After a week, I've finally found my way out. It's a lonely world in the land of poorly constructed sentences, verb conjugations and plagiarism. I started to fear that my own English skills were being degraded with each exam I corrected. Never mind the paper cuts and adding skills I've accumulated over the last week. (I'm a human calculator slash Edward Band-Aid Hands.) I had to document my efforts; notice the pens to show the scale. I am starting the 'Mia Raises Funds for CMU to Purchase a Freaking Scantron Machine Foundation.' I've started it using my own salary. For those who don't know Scantron, it's a beautiful machine in which you feed bubbled-in answer sheets into it and it will count the correct answers in less than a second. I will even provide all the #2 pencils the school would need for the next 10 years. And sharpen them.

Not to mention that the teachers are provided with sets of blank printed Excel grids that we must record our students' grades by hand. Then we submit these grade sheets to a person who will enter them (by typing every last number and decimal point) into an Excel file. I had actually made a suggestion to the department on how to make this process more efficient, but the department said that chiseling the grades onto a slab of stone would be too expensive. Oh and don't let me forget, when I submitted my grade sheet, I explained that I switched two of the columns by accident, but made a note on the paper. I was handed a bottle of white-out and told that it would 'confuse the typist' if I didn't fix it. Holy archaic system, sometimes I wonder if this is a sick joke.

Taxes

Yes, I did my taxes like a good girl. It was actually an enjoyable experience. A couple of other ajarns and myself went over to city hall with our paperwork (which consisted of a piece of paper from the university, our passports and our work permits.) We showed up at city hall, where there are several buildings and everything is in Thai. We just happened to walk into the right building and directly to the right office. I don't know how it happened but we stood outside the office door when all of a sudden a parade of pink came out with gifts and food and smiling office workers. No, the parade was not for us, but we worried that because the party was leaving the office, that no one would be there to help us. A few people stayed behind and explained that the party was for their boss who was being promoted, yet they helped us anyway. They took care of us and sent us on our way. Now that we had our official documents and tax card, we had one of two options to actually pay our taxes. We could go into the city to another office where we could wait in a short line and pay cash (which is what we ultimately ended up doing), or the more hilarious option: filing our taxes online, waiting 5 days, and then bringing our papers into....you'll never guess....7-11. In Thailand you can pay your taxes at 7-11! I love it. I can get some hot dogs, big gulps, and pay my taxes all in 5 minutes. How much were taxes you ask? Under $15 for the year; they would have been less if I went to 7-11 and used all of my 7-11 sticker coupons. Ha.

Busy tonight?

This was my highlight of the day: I was treating myself to an early dinner at a nice Italian restaurant after I finished class. I say 'nice' because they actually had heavy silverware and cloth napkins. I come in the restaurant and smile and nod when the young animated host says, "Just one?" He gave a quick pity frown, then put a big smile back on. He was overly helpful and friendly, perhaps because I was the only one in the restaurant at 4:30. He kept coming back to check on me, gave me a free dessert, and brought me the check. Then he says to me, "Happy Valentine's Day." I said, "Thank you. You too. Will you be busy tonight?" He replies, "Oh... you are very beautiful but I must work tonight." I almost said, "No, no, I meant will the restaurant be busy tonight?" but I didn't want the sweet kid to be embarrassed for turning down a (seemingly desperate) American girl when he's clearly not into women so I simply handed him the bill and said, "Ok. The meal was delicious, thank you."

One Academic Year Down

Today was the last day of class for my second semester at Chiang Mai University. I can't believe I have a whole academic year under my belt already. I thought I just got here. A day like today makes me think about my first day teaching here. What is different now? It doesn't seem like a lot until I think about the fact that I didn't know what the hell I was doing when I got here. Now I still don't know what I'm doing, but at least I'm used to it. I didn't like spicy food, now I have it for breakfast. I couldn't speak Thai when I got here, now I still can't speak Thai, but I certainly know how to repeat phrases I hear just to get a laugh. Upon arrival I was simply a part-time lecturer at the university, now I have a bunch of fun jobs. I teach at an American University Language Center. I teach one-on-one private students, preparing three different Thais for their post-grad English studies in Australia, UK, and Bangkok. I write travel articles. I do consulting for a woman writing and preparing to defend her post-doctorate dissertation about a care program for premature infants. And that's just what I am up to this week. I am taking education to nerdy heights. I never knew I had it in me.

What makes the teaching gig worth every grammar correction, every explanatory charade, every chalk dust sneeze? I would say the class evaluation that says, "You calm. I love you, my teacher, Mia. See you next term."

For those who don't know, I am on board for another year in Chiang Mai. That's the plan for now. By the way, the weekend forecast looks pretty solid:
Can you blame me for sticking around?

Chiang Mai Flower Festival

We felt pretty dumb when we showed up a day late to the festival, but it actually worked out better that we went the day after it was over for two reasons: no crowds and flower giveaways. So maybe we were actually the smart ones. Granted, it was heartbreaking to see these beautiful displays being torn down and taken apart like a bitter early morning cleanup after a party. Except they weren't chucking empty beer bottles into bags on the back of a truck, but orchids! and roses! At least we could appreciate them before they were tossed away. Some of the good ones were salvaged, including our small purchases. I got two orchid plants for about $3. I explained to my Thai friend how expensive orchid plants can be in the states and her jaw hit the floor when I said 2500 baht (or around $75). A nice man clipped a couple of giant roses for us. Turns out those roses were the biggest darn things I've ever seen in my life. It was a lovely morning and we drove out of Chiang Mai to a wood carving village and a ceramics village and she showed me where she gets her favorite wonton soup. She actually drives a half hour out of the city for this soup. It was so good I had two bowls. I am very pleased with how my pictures turned out. You can see more in the link on the left.

Eating:1, Work:0

Hands down best way to spend a Friday night is getting a phone call while getting changed to go to the gym and dropping the workout for a foot massage and all-you-can-eat sushi. I came home and realized that I ate all three meals today (plus coffee) with the same person. We have similar tastes in activities (like eating and getting our feet rubbed). Now that I think about it, we spent more time enjoying food than we spent at work. Not bad. I've also reaffirmed my love for ahi tuna. Any day you reaffirm a love is a productive day if you ask me.

My Dic

I was having coffee with my good Thai friend before our 1pm class today. Actually we were having coffee and sharing a Belgian waffle, because we felt like some sugar for lunch. We also had spicy noodle soup together for breakfast. (There is no such thing as 'breakfast food' and 'lunch food' here.) That is neither here nor there. Now, she teaches me something new everyday and today's lesson I found pretty unbelievable.

"Oh! My dic!" she says.
"Your what?"
"I forgot my dic back in the office, but, it's ok. I don't need it today."
"What are you talking about?"
"My talking dic."

At this point I am laughing because I think I know what she's talking about, but I seriously can't believe it yet. But it is true. Thai people abbreviate the word dictionary. So Thai teachers will ask their students, "Do you have a dic? Uh oh. You forgot your dic? You left your dic at home? No one has a dic today? That's too bad."

Unreal.

Hmm, what do I miss?

Feeling under the weather this last weekend, and I've been fortunate to not have been sick hardly at all while in Asia. A solid immune system is something to be proud of. Anyway, being sick makes me miss certain comforts from home and the fact that I can't curl up with the dog on the couch with a good movie and a box of wheat thins gets me a little down. The best solution I could come up with yesterday was making a little trip to the farang grocery store and picking up a few items that I didn't realize I missed so much. I filled my basket with the following: a little bottle of olive oil, pepper, a few ounces of powdery Parmesan cheese, a small loaf of ciabatta, and a bag of sour gummy candy. Granted this cost a fortune for Thai standards, but oh let me tell you it was worth it. The only downside to it was that I realized when I got home that the fresh pepper I bought did not come with a grinder in the cap. I looked a little closer at the label and there was a picture of a mortar and pestle. I didn't anticipate having to grind my own spices by hand, but I can live without a few modern conveniences I suppose.

Back home on an under-the-weather-day like this, I would make it an M.I.A. day (not a self-centered ego day, not the hip hop band, and not like I would go missing-in-action or anything)... I mean the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Unfortunately there is not a lot of art to see in Chiang Mai unless you are in the market for a painting with either an elephant or a Buddha image. I really miss having that quiet open space to wander around in, and I especially miss the paintings. So as a lame attempt, I browsed internet collections of paintings and it nowhere near does any justice, but it kept me satisfied for now. Don't you love when you find a painting that makes you sit back and say, "Yes. That is exactly it." And you feel like it was painted only for you in that exact moment, and you'd probably feel differently on any other day. Here's mine.

Quirks I'm almost used to by now

1. A roll of toilet paper on each table to use as napkins
2. Stray dogs wearing t-shirts
3. Men shamelessly checking their flawless hairstyles in the mirrors on their motorbikes
4. Is that the ice cream truck I hear? No, it's the ice cream man ringing a silver bell pushing a vat of ice cream on wheels down the side of the road.
5. Whitening deodorant. Yes, it will make your armpit skin white as snow.
6. Cell phone dangle jewelry that is actually bigger than the cell phone
7. Don't bother picking up your heels when you walk (my least favorite sound)
8. Taking that drink to go? I hope you like your ice tea poured in a plastic bag with handles and a straw. You'll have to drink it before you put it down though.
9. No one escapes from Hello Kitty
10. The waiter will stand right next to you and stare with pencil in hand until you take a full 4 minutes to browse the 20 page menu and order something.
Honorable mention: Toast, Jew, and Big Bang (names of my students)

My perception of normalcy is now warped, but I don't mind.

Year of the Ox

This is my big year according to the Chinese. I'm an ox and this is the year of the ox in the Chinese New Year. (Thai people don't really celebrate the Chinese New Year because they have their own new year to celebrate in early April: the much-anticipated Songkran Festival.) Sources say the upcoming year doesn't look extremely favorable for the almighty oxes, but I think I'll have to be an exception to that rule.

They also say about oxes:
People born in the Year of the Ox are patient, speak little and inspire confidence in others. They tend, however, to be eccentric, and bigoted and they anger easily. They have fierce tempers and although they speak little, when they do they are quite eloquent. Ox people are physically and mentally alert. Generally easy going, they can be remarkably stubborn, and they hate to fail or be opposed. They are most compatible with Snake, Rooster and Rat people.

I would say that there are only a few parts to that description that my personality matches up with. For example, I lost my temper last week because someone told me I was a bigot because I said to them, " I have never been wrong in my entire life." I wouldn't budge. I guess you could say I was remarkably stubborn. Just the fact that they argued with me pissed me off so I beat them up with my bare hands. I absolutely hate to be opposed because clearly, I am always right. Then I got angry with myself because I failed to be physically and mentally alert enough to give them a roundhouse kick to the face when I had the chance.

I'm So Pumped

I joined a new gym and I secretly miss the wall decorations of sweaty scantily clad 80's beefcakes at my old gym. To make up for that loss, tomorrow I am going to a group fitness class. I am going solely because of the name, and I am being completely honest about that.

Name of the class: Body Pump
Name of the trainer: Magnum

You would do it too. Who wouldn't want their body pumped by a guy named Magnum? Seriously.

Elevator Etiquette

Americans and other westerners face the elevator door, while looking at the floor or at the changing floor numbers. Thai people will face the side walls of the elevator, seemingly staring at the other passengers. A mixed group of people in an elevator will all be facing different directions. Just something interesting I've noticed. Also, when Thai people exit the elevator, they give a little duck of their head as to excuse themselves from everyone else's presence.

Acupressure and What?!

My favorite part of the semester: presentation week. The unit was on health, and my students had to perform a role play about any kind of alternative medicine of their choice. The highlight of the lot was the last group in my last class today. My last presentation of the week was a group of three that performed a role play about acupressure. Interesting enough, right? But wait. Before they perform, they hand their script to me so I can follow along. (Otherwise it's tough to grasp their pronunciation sometimes.) Now as a side note, many many students tend to copy work. They copy from their friends, they copy from the older sisters and brothers who took the class last year, and fortunately for my entertainment (and yours, for that matter) they copy things from the internet that they don't understand. This group copied a few paragraphs from a website about acupressure and scripted it as something the doctor will say to a patient in the role play. The skit was going along just fine: "Doctor, what do you recommend for my problem?" "Well if you're not interested in traditional medicine, I have an alternative treatment that you might be interested in. Acupressure is the use of pressure points to...." The conversation took a turn for the unexpected shortly after. "And you can incorporate acupressure into foreplay and intercourse. Try acupressure along with kissing, rubbing and caressing...Be careful not to apply too much pressure on sensitive areas like the groin...If you get too excited, don't be afraid to slow down and relax for awhile, then return to foreplay again when you're ready."

I am not even kidding you. These kids had no idea what they were saying, and no one in the class got it either. I was sitting in the front row with my grading notebook with my breath held and tears welling up in my eyes. So difficult not to laugh out loud. I almost thought about asking them to stop, but I let it carry on because this was one of life's moments that is just too good to interrupt. I was in the presence of comedic brilliance, and I was the only one laughing.

Moonrise

Spent Sunday in San Kamphang, a small village outside of Chiang Mai to visit a friend at his (fairly) new and (extremely) beautiful property. His place is basically a Thai style house, right next to an identical house owned by his friends. They agreed to build a massive deck connecting the two and it is surrounded by mountains, a pond and tree orchards. We spent the day cooking skewers, grilling fish, making smoothies, eating eating eating. He's got the right idea. A perfect getaway in the mountains to escape to year round, just near the hot springs, not too far from the city. He's nice enough to share it with friends, and I'm grateful I finally got to see it.

The best part of the evening was anticipating the moon. It was full and scheduled to rise at 6:31pm, and the sun sets about 30 minutes prior. We huddled on the deck under blankets and watched the tip of the mountain start to glow from the light of the moon. All of a sudden it looked like a flashlight was shining through the trees at the top of the mountain, but the light got bigger and bigger. Here it was, the moonrise. Painfully exciting in a quiet way. We sat in silence, listening to Hebrew music that was appropriately about the moon guiding a person to their love. I've seen some incredible sunrises in my life, but I can't say I ever sat and watched a moonrise. Other-worldly, I tell you. One of those moments where you sit quietly and don't pay attention to the time until you notice how much the moon has moved above the horizon. We finally broke the silence, drank coffee and ate cookies making quiet comments about how beautiful this is. Reminded me how much I loved studying astronomy. As a child I remember riding in the car and watching the moon, wondering how it knew exactly where to go to follow us all the way home. It raced along the side of the car with us, not moving from that spot outside the window. Almost like it was a little plea to say, "don't forget about me!" and the moonrise was no different. It's so easy to get caught up in what is only in front of you and forget to look up once in awhile.

Things Work in Weird Ways

Last week I went around to a couple language schools in my neighborhood to drop off my resume and see if I can pick up some private students or some extra teaching hours. I walked a few blocks to a school that specializes in tutoring and small classes. I dropped my resume with a short application form that took a couple minutes to fill out. The woman said she'd call me for an interview and I thanked her and headed off to the next school down the street. By the time I walked no more than 3 minutes from the school I received a phone call from the woman I just spoke with. "Can you come in for an interview?" As if we went warp speed to three days from now when any normal place would call for an interview. I laughed and said, "Sure, I'll be there in...2 minutes." So I wanted to joke and say something smart like, "Nice to see you again...so soon." She had me sit and wait for the principal; apparently she was on her way. The five minute wait I was anticipated went severely into Thai time, about 40 minutes. Then the woman comes out and asked me to walk with her down the street to where the principal was. This was so weird. So I walked with this woman as she told me about her life growing up in Chiang Mai, how her English wasn't good (but why she works at an English language school I didn't quite catch), and other little tidbits about her life. We reached another school and walked in where I met the principal and proceeded with the impromptu interview in the middle of the lobby where preschool kids were running a muck around us while parents were picking them up. Weirdest interview of my life. She offered me a full time job on the spot but I couldn't take it because of my commitment to the university. I told her I was interested in part-time work so hopefully they will have something for me, but the interview kind of ended on that.

Gets weirder. A little deflated (and hungry) after all that waiting for an interview leading to nowhere, I headed home. I walked by the school that I work at on and off when they have a class for me. Just the week prior I had a call from them and when I returned the call, excited for what they had for me, their reply was, "Oh, since I couldn't get a hold of you, I already called the other teacher, so I don't need anything from you. Thank you!" I peeked into the window of the school and waved hello, and they motioned me to come in. "Oh!! Perfect timing. Here we have a student for you. She needs a tutor for the IELTS exam. Do you know IELTS exam?" "No." "That's ok! You can teach her speaking, listening, and reading. You can start on Monday."

See how things fall into place in strange ways? If it weren't for the impromptu interview, I wouldn't have walked by at the exact moment to get my new student. I met with her today and she's an angel. Lucky me.

New Year's Eve

I usually don't go buck wild over New Year's but this one was lots of fun. I can't say what was specifically so great about it, just a blur of good music, good company, lots of dancing with a dash of Thai drama on the side. Since I don't do drama, I stuck to dancing.

One of the highlights of the night was when a Thai friend that I ran into during the eve came to me toward the end of the night and he said, "I didn't even recognize you, Mia. You were so charming tonight." I like to think that these are two compliments completely independent of each other. Although on those rare occasions when I exude a little bit of charm, I can see how it's hard to put my name to that face.

More pictures of NYE and Christmas in the photo archive links on the left. The next morning I felt like garbage, naturally, and I found myself wondering how late we stayed out. Thank goodness for the clock appearing in some of those photos to remind me of the joys and of staying out waaay after my bedtime.

Last but not least, I hope all had a very happy new year and here's to this one being better than the last. We all have something to celebrate. Maybe next new year it will be the booming economy... As the Thais always say, maybe next time. Cheers.

Haircut

For only 180 baht a person can walk into a hair salon, point to shampoo and haircut on the menu, get escorted into the back, shampooed and head massaged for a long long time, then sit and sweat in a chair where a Thai man cuts off more hair than what he was asked via hand gestures. It's too late to say anything (as if anything said would actually be understood) so you just sit and pray to the Buddha statue on the shelf nearby that everything will be fine while your knees shake under the plastic tarp. It turned out just fine.

My Thai friends (and some farang friends) were pissed. I, on the other hand, don't get overly attached to my hair, and it obviously isn't very attached to me given the ungodly amounts of it that were appearing on my floors and sheets and shower tiles.

At least I didn't end up with an Asian Mullet. Maybe next time.

Detox

Please skip this post if you can't stand to read about the normal workings of the colon or the rest of the digestive system.

You had your chance. I went and got a colonic, or colon cleansing, or colon detox, what ever you want to call it. I don't know what made me compelled to go and do it that Saturday morning, but I have a feeling it was the food from Charlie's Christmas party plus the fact that a Thai friend told me about it, on top of the unfortunate sluggishness that I've been feeling.

So how does this work you ask? Or maybe you don't ask but are kind of curious to know. Or maybe you don't want to know at all to which I reply: Read the first line of the post again. The place that I went to was walking distance from my apartment. I am continuously discovering all the lovelies that are so close to home; maybe I will compile a list someday and you will understand why I never want to leave my apartment. Anyway, I showed up without an appointment and on the walk over, I called my Thai friend to say I was going, I was nervous, should I tip them?, was I going to be ok? She replied: that's good, don't be nervous, don't tip, and maybe.

I walked in and told them what I wanted and the two Thai women sat me down at a big marble reception desk, I filled out a questionnaire, they took my blood pressure and said ok looks good. She walked me into a private room and there was a giant scary looking chair. Apart from the chair, it was like a normal spa room. She had me get undressed and put on a robe and explained what was going to happen, but it was happening before I knew it. All of a sudden I was in the chair (still in the robe but with bare bottom against the plastic seat). She adjusted me a bit and put a pencil sized tube "up there." I had a flash of "I shouldn't be doing this, I want to go home" but I overreacted. It wasn't bad at all...but I didn't know at that point that I would have this flash again shortly.

She explained that through the tube, purified water would start to flow into my colon and beyond. Then she said when you have to go...just go. I didn't really get it but once the water started filling, I knew what she meant. I had that sudden flash again, only this time it was just like those terror filled moments when you're somewhere in public and need to get to a toilet ASAP. She was in the room for the first part and waited for me to "go" the first time. She was on the other side of a curtain and kept saying, "Don't be afraid, just relax, don't worry, you can make a noise if you need to..." This of course made me more nervous and embarrassed. She said that I can watch the water level and when it gets down to the last 5 liters, to press the call button for her. Then she left. I had only gotten through 1 liter and I had 24 to go. So the idea is that one or two liters of water goes through you, then you push it out with other stuff. Then you do it again until all 25 liters of water is gone.

I should mention that there is a mirror above the clear tube that sends all the water and other stuff down the drain, so that you can see what passes through. I won't go there, and I did not take pictures. Although I know one or two people who might wish I did photo-document the process. Sorry. However, it would have been more telling if I took pictures of my facial expressions in reaction to what I was seeing. All of the captions to those photos would be: "really?" or "are you kidding?" or for a really bad pun, "are you shitting me?"

So when it got down to the last few liters I hit the call button and in came the Thai nurse (I think she's a nurse...) and she came in to push on my belly for the last part of the colonic. Talk about strange. My Thai friend put it nicely. She said by the end of it you feel like you should get her name and number, take her out to dinner, take her home for the night because you get a little intimate while she's pushing your stomach while you're in the chair doing your 'wish-it-was...but-not-so-private' business.

After the whole thing was over, I was free to take a shower and get cleaned up. I admit I didn't feel a whole lot different. The rest of the day was fine and to be honest, I felt the benefits of everything in the next two days. Hard to explain, without using the cliche "cleaner." I was happier, had more energy, and felt like I could break into song and dance down the sidewalk. Kidding about the last one. I definitely recommend it. If you want more of the gruesome details, I'm not afraid to share, but you need to ask.

Christmas Party for the Adults

The days leading up to Christmas were strange. No snow, no family gatherings, no bitter cold. Christmas Day was also strange. I started the day by spoiling myself with a big breakfast that didn't come close to Grandma's. I had class on Christmas and my students wished me a Merry Christmas when I walked in the door, which was very sweet, but class went on as usual. The only other sign of Christmas was when I left my apartment that morning and an old white man in red with a white beard and santa hat rode by in a bicycle. I waved and shouted "Merry Christmas!" We only need a little bit of Christmas cheer to be content for the day.

That evening my friend Charlie hosted a Christmas party at her place for all of us farangs (and some Thai too!) who were away from home on the holiday. We had a potluck dinner and lots of drinks and even more desserts. It was an international gathering. I've never had sticky rice with chicken and whiskey for Christmas dinner before, but we make the most of it all. It was really nice to be around friends and to make it somewhat of a family gathering.

By the time I got home, it was only Christmas morning back in Minnesota, so I got to see the family via webcam and we opened gifts together. Awwww. I miss them like crazy.

Christmas Party for the Kids

First of all, apologies for neglecting the updates over the last few weeks. Time to play catch up. Before Christmas, I volunteered to help throw a little Christmas party for underprivileged and handicapped children at a Thai elementary school. We were to entertain three age groups in three shifts for a couple hours each. We had three activities prepared for the party. The first was telling "The Night Before Christmas" story to the children in Thai. I wonder if this was their first introduction to Santa or Christmas, and as odd as it is to thrust a Christian holiday onto a group of Buddhist children, no one seemed to have a problem with it. The story was complimented by none other than a powerpoint presentation of pictures somewhat relating to the story as it was told. The westerners in the room could have pointed out the disconnect between the pictures and the story, but the kids loved it. Worthy to note: the first activity for all the kids in the morning is their anthem to the King (in which they sing and play xylophone-like instruments) followed by their daily exercise aerobics to a hip hop song with explicit lyrics that the kids don't understand but are happy to dance to. Only here.

Oh before I forget, I absolutely need to mention the behavior of these kids. Do me a favor and picture an assembly hall of 70 children ages 7-10, anticipating a super fun party they've been looking forward to for weeks. Don't do it for too long because you might get a headache from all the screaming and chaos in your head. The kids at this school were nothing like what you just pictured. I promise you. They were angels. Little Buddha loving angels. For example, before they were allowed into the hall where we were still setting up that morning, the teachers lined up their students and had them sit in rows on the steps outside. Observation number 1, they actually sat down in rows. Observation number 2, they stayed there. Observation number 3, they lined their shoes up against the wall in neat rows. Observation number 4, and this is the one that blows me away, they meditated. Meditated! Now I can hardly sit still without talking, and I know a whole lot of people who are the same, but these kids! I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until I realized there was nothing but silence coming from outside the door and all the noise was from the adults who were still setting up. I peeked outside and there sat little bodies in rows with an eerie wisdom and calmness. Luckily I knew right then that if I told someone about this they wouldn't believe me so I snapped a photo.

The second game we played after the story (which they obviously sat through with good behavior), we played "Pass the Parcel," which is obviously a British name of the game and I can only think those words with a British accent now. Basically it's a game where we prepared little gifts wrapped several times with layers and layers of newspaper, and between each layer is a little treat or candy. The kids sit in a circle and pass the gifts around while Christmas music plays (as it turns out, Feliz Navidad was the first track on the CD I made and the kids loved it- thanks Adam.) and when the music stops the person holding the gift gets to remove a layer and keep the treat. Observation number 5, they weren't greedy little monsters. When the music stopped and last child holding the gift, he usually looked confused and handed it over to the person next to him. Another group of girls did something extraordinary. They passed the gift around exactly to the beat of the music so there was no discrepancy of who ended with the gift. Then they agreed that instead of keeping the prize for themselves, they put each little treat in the middle of the circle, into a community pot, if you will. They would cheer for the person each time the gift was opened and the girl would graciously add it to the middle pile. At the end of the game, they agreed to divide the prizes equally among the whole group so no one was left out. Based on this alone, I think the world would be a more peaceful place if women ruled it.

The last activity was letting the kids make Christmas cards. This was my favorite part of the party where we got to get on the floor with the kids and really interact with them. Coloring, cutting, gluing...made me want to be a kid again. It was an interesting experience because the kids don't speak any English and I used a few little encouraging phrases in Thai but for the most part I spoke in easy English because their teachers wanted them to hear the rare native tongue. So we were speaking different languages but we still got along and had a great time.

On top of it all, the kids were incredibly beautiful. I've got loads of pictures and you will probably agree. I became instantly attached and enamored. We entertained three large groups in all, about 170 children total. I think they had a great time and it was quite humbling to see how thrilled they got over little bits of candy or pencil case prizes or their pride in their Christmas cards. Love it. I meant for this to be posted closer to Christmas to try and encourage some to volunteer for a holiday event for underprivileged kids but the truth is, there is never a bad time to volunteer for something or someone you care about.