Back to the Drawing Board

Well, the white board, actually. Another life chapter is underway, and I'm teaching at a university about an hour north of Bangkok.
Starting in the middle of a semester, my workload is light and my heart responds accordingly. I have taken over one class from each of the other four English teachers. So, one class a day, and none on Wednesday.
But wait: it gets better. The semester finishes at the end of February, and then it's three months without classes. I'll still sign in each day, and I'll still receive a paycheck. Just no classes to teach. Plenty of time to catch up on my pleasure reading (yeah right, as if I'm behind).
Of course, while the workload isn't extravagent, neither is the paycheck. All the other English teachers have additional gigs going on to supplement their income. I will do this as well, but I plan to wait for the optimal situation to present itself. It will. It always does.
As noted, it's an hour from here to Bangkok. Just thirty minutes away though, is a large western-style shopping plaza. Aside from department stores and specialty shops, it boasts a multi-plex theatre, bowling alley, and a variety of western fast-food restaurants; McDonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut, Dunkin' Doughnuts.... If I get an uncontrollable urge for a Sizzler salad bar, it can be assauged.
Closer to home, it's just a few minutes by motorcycle taxi to the city-village of Pa-In. No McDonald's here, but plenty of places to eat and shop, and the the place is lively with local color.
The university itself is a good-sized place. Although I live on campus, it's still a twenty minute walk to my office. Along the way I pass other residences, canals, a lake, food canteens... There's even a 24-hour convenience store on the school grounds. I also come across snakes, large turtles, and humongous lizards. They're not kimodo dragons, but they will eat a puppy if given the chance. I know that I wouldn't want to start an arguement with one of them.
And the dogs! There are hundreds of them, each to be found chilling with their packs in their own hood. While they don't wear gang colors, it's still a territorial canine world here.
I share my house with a consulting engineer for the university. His English is almost non-existent, so our conversations aren't long. But he's a friendly soul, and has shown me some of the local spots nearby.
My actual house is designated for the President of the University, but he has his home elsewhere. I share the kitchen and livingroom with'P Sin (the engineer), and I have two bedrooms of my own and a private bathroom. And air conditioning (thank you thank you thank you). The 'hot season' has just begun in earnest.
It's been a new and enjoyable phenomena to have native English speakers as colleagues. Two are from America, one from Canada, and one from the U.K.. As often as not, we end the day sharing a dinner and drinks in Pa-In.
The ambiance here is very different from Korat (where I taught in the NorthEast), and so far so good. Now when I turn at the calling of my name it isn't a monk or a ten-year-old child. Instead, most likely, it's a beaming Thai co-ed.
I think I will enjoy this new world.
Onward.

Bear Encounters

ENCOUNTER #1
A friend and I were on a seven-day hike in the backcountry of Yosemite. It was off-season, and we hadn't seen a soul as we hiked through Lyle Canyon. There were thousand-foot cliffs on either side of the valley, and ahead in the distance Mt. Donahue rose to over 13,000 feet.
A river meandered back and forth along our route, and we had made camp nestled in the U-shape of one of its turns. Our food was bear-bagged in a tree about 15 feet away. It was a beautiful night, and dispensing with tents, we had just climbed into our bags when we heard a crashing through the brush, much too loud for squirrels or rabbits.
We jumped up, threw more wood on our dying fire, and saw a mother bear and cub trying to get at our food. We banged our sierra cups, yelled... but the bear was intent, and our actions were ignored.
After maybe ten minutes, another bear emerged into view. This was a male, the biggest black bear I'd ever seen. It began fighting with the sow, presumably over the right to our food.
We were no longer making noise. By the light of what now was a bonfire, we watched from ten feet away as these two massive animals clawed and snarled. It seemed like hours, but in reality the sow and her cub were chased away in minutes.
Then the male bear turned its attention on us, growling, froth still on its muzzle, and walking errect took several steps in our direction. We just stood there, surrounded by uncrossable river on three sides, and a frothing ursus approaching from the fourth. I had a buck knife in my hand, which felt about as lethal as a paperclip.
After easily and thoroughly intimidating us, the bear focused his attention on our hanging food. Over the next two hours, he twice more growled and rose toward us on his hind feet. Eventually, lifetimes later, he broke the rope that was holding our food and left our camp with his prize.
ENCOUNTER #2
I was on a solo hike in the Sierras, traveling off-trail to preserve my solitude. I found a clearing big enough to pitch my tent, and then wandered about fifty yards through dense brush to find a tree suitable for bear bagging.
That night I was awakened by the sound of breaking branches, and correctly assumed that bear was trying to reach my food. I debated attempting to scare it off, but the thought of wandering through that thick brush at night gave me pause. Especially since I was off the beaten path. Besides, I was only 2 or 3 days from the nearest trailhead and that length of time would be a manageable fast.
A particularly loud crash told me my food had been liberated from the tree, and I heard the tearing of packaging and the chomping of goodies. But not content with its score, the bear then made its way to my backpack, propped about 10 feet from my tent.
At this point I decided to make a stand for my property, and began hurling quickly gathered rocks from the opening of my tent. Chalk up one for the homo sapien! The bear left, and when my adrenalin rush subsided, I fell back asleep.
In the morning, I began my foodless hike back to civilization.
ENCOUNTER#3
I used to manage the mental health services in the Railbelt Region of Alaska. To remove the stigma of "that new shrink in town," I also joined up with various local organizations. I was Vice-President of the Healy Lion's Club (roar, roar, roar), on the Fire Department Board, and served as a trauma technician for the ambulance service. It was in that latter capacity that I responded to a bear mauling early one morning. In the book, 'More Alaskan Bear Tales,' the victim of that mauling describes his encounter:
"I was a little startled, but not too concerned about being in danger. I've read quite a bit about bears and figured if I didn't react, the bear would move on. I relaxed, standing perfectly still. As I was glancing around, the brush exploded and I saw a ball of fur hurling towards me like it had been shot out of the bushes. I reached down and pulled out my revolver, a 3.57 Ruger single action. By thge time I drew and cocked my gun, the bear had practically reached the end of the barrel. I pulled the trigger, hitting the bear somewhere in the chest.
"Still the bear charged forward, grabbing me by the lower right leg as he ran by. He picked me up, swung me over his head and actually threw me like I was a feather pillow. I landed on a rock several feet away, barely hitting the ground before the bear was on top of me, chewing my upper right leg.
"Miraculously, I hadn't dropped my revolver and managed to get off another shot; but I was shaking so uncontrollably that I completely missed the bear. I struggled to cock the gun again, fired and hit the animal in the stomache, about a foot from my face. A huge hole opened up it s abdomen and blood poured from the wound, but the injury only angered the bear more. It grabbed me by the head, picked me up and shook. As I heard the bones in my face cracking, the bear dropped me. I fell on my back, staring up at the bear directly over me with its mouth open. The grizzly saw me move and came down for my head again. But as the bear lowered its head, I lifted my right arm, cocked the gun and jammed the pistol clear into its mouth. I pulled the trigger. The timing was perfect. When I fired that final shot, the pistol and my hands were in the bear's mouth.
"The bear shook its head and shuddered. It reared back and took a powerful swing at me with its paw. And, almost as if the bear knew what had caused the hurt, it tried to knock the gun out of the way, but I clasped it tightly with both hands. Then the bear straggled over the ridge and down into the brush."
When I arrived with the ambulance crew, thevictim was still conscious. His nose was mostly hole and cartilage, one eye dangled out of its socket, and his leg was bleeding severely. He lived, as can be surmised from his above narrative, but he looks different than he used to. We never found the bear.

Bye bye, Bangkok

I left one City of Angels and arrived in another: Bangkok to Los Angeles. The real name isn't Bangkok, though. It is Krung Thep mahanakhon bowon rattanakosin mahintara ayuthaya mahadilok popnopparat ratchathani burirom-udomratchaniwet mahasathan-amonpiman-avatansathri-sakkathatityavisnukamprasit.
Roughly translated, the name of Thailand's capitol is Great city of angels, the repository of divine gems, the great land unconquerable, the grand and prominent realm, the royal and delightful capitol city full of nine noble gems, the highest royal dwelling and grand palace, the divine shelter and living place of reincarnated spirits.
I think I'll continue to call it 'Bangkok' for the time being.

My Thailand sojourn has come to an end. New life chapters beckon, and onward I go. I take with me warm memories, treasured friendships, and a deep appreciation for the land and the people that are Thailand.
This blog too, comes to a close. Perhaps to be ressurected during my next round of roaming.
Chok dee - Good luck.
Sawadii - Goodbye

Update on the space-time continuim

This is more like a group email than a travel entry. But hey, a good blog can multi-task, right?
Tomorrow I'm off to work a three-day English camp with a cowboy (yippy ki yay) theme. Then I'll spend my last two days at the temple, cleaning and organizing.
Next, an overnight in Bangkok before heading south for R and R on the island of Koh Phan Ngan. After five days I'll connect with friends in Koh Samui, visit the Tiger Temple in Kanchanaburi, and head back to Bangkok for two days work at a job fair.
Here is where my schedule deviates. I had planned to fly back to the States at that point, but I've made some modifications. A friend (my ex-wife, actually) is taking over my position at the elementary school. She won't arrive until mid-November, and I'll continue teaching into the new semester until then.
Last night was the last day of the old semester. After a full day of physical games and contests (Sport Day), the children went home and the staff had an end-of-term party. The Director made a speech about me, but all I could recognize was my name. It's like that Far Side cartoon, "What we say to dogs and what they hear." Blah blah blah Mr. Greg blah blah Mr Greg, etc..
Anyway, he presented me with two extra weeks pay as a 'souvenier.' Then different teachers came up with gifts; the fifth-grade teachers, the 6th grade teachers, the foreign language teachers, teachers that I had been teaching English... Quite a haul. Next, every teacher in the school presented me with a rose attached to some message i.e. "Wonderful Man, Smart One, We Will Miss You, etc.. I've never been presented with sixty roses before. It was very thoughtful, and made the subsequent kareoke and dancing almost mandatory.
Over the last week I've also been presented with a steady stream of gifts, cards, and photos from the students. They really are sweet kids.
So. Three days of English camp and then a holiday! Yippy Ki Yay (or whatever it was that Bruce Willis said).

Lesson Plans

Already mid-September.... My Thai time is growing short.
I have given notice, both to the Temple and the elementary school, that I will be leaving Korat in October. My plans include a little traveling, a couple day's work in Bangkok, and then flying back to the States in November. I'm still arranging and negotiating my winter employment. Something neither hot nor humid!
I'm also involved in a new blog project, and just recently posted my first entry. It was largely a capsulated version of what's been written here, but I did include some advice and logistics about teaching in Thailand. If you're interested, log on to www.coolworks.com and click on 'Blogging the Dream.'
But back to the blog at hand! I have been asked a number of times, 'How can you teach Thai students if you don't talk Thai?' Today's entry may be a tad dry for those of you not into lesson plans, but I'll attempt to answer that question.
First, allow me to set the scene at Wat Srakaow, the pratom (elementary) school where I teach four days a week.
The school is big; a number of buildings, and the larger ones are three stories high. The rooms are slightly cramped, and a fan minimally helps to mitigate the heat. There is a blackboard at the front of each classroom, a microphone, and about fifty students. Teaching each of the fifth and sixth grade classes once a week, I teach four classes a day for a weekly total of 800 students.
Typically a teacher in my situation relies on an established course book to construct ongoing lessons. But not being impressed with the relevance of available books, I have been creating my own lessons as I go. This would be a daunting task if I were required to produce 16 different lessons on a weekly basis. Fortunately, one lesson plan suffices for all 16 classes (with slight adaptation for varying skill levels).
My primary goal is to increase the children's familiarity with conversational English, and my primary method is FUN. If they are enjoying the lesson, they're going to pay attention and learn. If it's not sunuk (fun), they'll tune out.
I also like it to be fun for me, and I have immensely enjoyed the interactions with these kids. Have you ever seen the movie, 'Stripes,' with Bill Murray? I couldn't resist reenacting the classroom scene....
GREG: There she was, just a walkin' down the street, singing
STUDENTS: Do wha diddy diddy dum diddy do!
GREG: Holdin' my hand, just as natural as can be, singing
STUDENTS: Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do!
GREG: Looked good!
STUDENTS: Looked good.
GREG: Looked fine!
STUDENTS: Looked fine.
Etc..

The structure generally I use is this:
We start the hour with some kind of game, and then move on to working with the day's vocabulary. Using mime, flashcards, realia, drawing, etc., I try to ellicit the words from the class in English. Failing that, I'll supply the word myself. After going over the words verbally, we then review them from a poster or from the blackboard.
Next comes the dialogue, utilizing the words we've just worked with in the vocabulary phase. The dialogue typically consists of six lines; a conversation between 'A' and 'B.' After extensive drilling of the dialogue, we work with lexis substitution. This involves keeping the same grammatical structure of the dialogue, but substituting different key words. Lexis substitution serves the dual purpose of adding vocabulary and increasing the applicability of the grammatical structure for general use.
Afterwards, we usually engage in a communicative activity, an exercise which requires the students to exchange information and reinforces the day's lesson. For example: Last week, the students were divided into waiters and customers. The 'waiters' passed out menus, took orders, and then delivered the food (props). I must admit, as a long-time waiter it tickled me to watch this scenario play out.
The hour concludes with another game. It's a wise truism to 'leave 'em laughing.'
Of course, this strucure is not etched in stone. I usually include a magic trick somewhere along the way, and often we cover a mini-topic not related to the primary theme. Sometimes, for the last fifteen minutes, I'll pass out a word puzzle for the kids to work on. This allows me the opportunity to circulate through the room, briefly practicing pronunciation with each student.
Like children anywhere, there's a whole spectrum of personalities. But generally speaking, these are really good kids. They're bright, eager, and very engaging. Some have walked right into my heart, and I will truly miss them.

Gleanings, leanings and meanings

I will preface this entry with a confession. For the past year I have been working at a McDonalds in Mitchell, South Dakota and have not even stepped foot in Thailand.
O.k.. My confession is of a less dramatic nature, and concern's today's title, 'Gleanings, leanings and meanings.' I'm afraid I've only come up with two of the three; not a hint of meaning in sight. I do have a small collection of gleanings though, and a somewhat defined inclination to my leanings.
*Did you know that there are three, as opposed to four, seasons in Thailand? Summer, Winter, and Rainy; no lie. It has been my experience that winter is hot, summer is hotter, and rainy is hot and wet. Currently it's the Rainy Season, and I have my umbrella close at hand. Rainwear is ineffecient. Even with high tech gear, I sweat enough to defeat the purpose.
*Adventures on the songtaows continue. As transportation goes, it's the frotter's (sp?) dream and the claustrophobic's nightmare. If you mange to obtain a seat on this perpetually crowded transit, protocol dictates that you relinquish it to a woman, child or elder. So I usually don't bother, choosing instead to focus my energies on gaining an optimal standing position.
*The letters 'B' and 'P' are often used interchangably. Thus it is not uncommon to find a variety of crap on an English-written menu, i.e. steamed crap, baked crap, crap cakes... Also, the Thai word for pumkin is fuk. So it is quite appropriate to enter a restaurant asking for a fuk and some crap. Don't try this at home though, as you're liable to discover a whole new meaning to surf and turf.
*For my elementary school position I was required to take a pre-employment physical and a drug screening (about two weeks into the job). After taking my weight, blood pressure, and listening to my heart; they were able to certify me free from typhoid, t.b., alcoholism and drug addiction.
*Due to my variety of teaching gigs, I am often recognized about town. But it's a limited constituency. If a beauty of the opposite sex calls to me, most likely she is 11-years old and calling me Mr. Greg. If it's a man, there's a
good chance I'm being hailed by a monk.
Most days bring something my way of interest and/or amusement. But currently the biggest impact on my world is the lightening of my teaching schedule. Two weeks ago I gave notice at the language school, and I am now enjoying my first free weekend in quite some time. I will miss the students and the range of ages, from kindergarden to adult.
Coinciding with this, last Friday was my last day under contract with the Thai Air Force. Here I will most miss my weekly luches with the Colonel. We always ate at the same small establishment, and invariably began our meals with a shots of herbal whiskey. Perhaps this invoked my courage for the lunch to follow, which ranged from frogs to eels. There was this one thing, sort of looked like a slug, but I couldn't make out which side was the head. My host helpfully tried to describe it, "It's like a fish, but it lives in the mud under the water..." I stopped him. It was beginning to sound like a leech, and I wanted to halt his explanation while there was still room for doubt.
So now the lion share of my teaching time is at the inner city elementary school. I teach four classes a day, four days a week, which gives me some 800 students. I also teach two classes at the Buddhist University, and I am starting a program for the village children near my temple.
But all this is like swinging just one bat after practicing with two. It reminds me of a story from the Hassidic tradition. A man is living in a small one-room house with his wife, three children and mother-in-law, and the crowded conditions are driving him crazy. In desperation, he consults with the rabbi who advises him to bring all the chickens into the house and return in in a week. A week later the man returns to the rabbi complaining that things are worse than ever. "Bring the pigs into the house also," instructs the rabbi. When the man returns a week later, the rabbi tells him to now bring the cow into his home. After another week, exhausted and trembling, the man returns to the rabbi. "Now", the Reb says, "put all the animals back outside." A week later the man returns to thank the rabbi, feeling contented, at peace, and grateful for the spaciousness of his home.
There is a definite parallel here. In spite of a still full schedule, I now feel a spaciousness. I also now have the time for some visiting and wandering. Next weekend I am driving into the far NorthEast with the Colonel and his family (I'd better bring either a blindfold or a bottle of herbal whiskey). The following week I will visit friends in Bangkok. After that it will be time for a border run to renew my visa, probably Laos or Cambodia.
LEANINGS: At this point, I plan to leave Korat in October and Thailand in November. Steamboat Springs, Colorado is looking like my winter destination. I am ready to reunite with cold and snow, and I'd like to spend a season snowboarding. Also, Steamboat has a great hot spring and a decent bookstore. For the summer, I plan to alternate hiking and working, seeing what various forms of employment present themselves in the National Parks. Come autumn, it just may be time to resume the life of wanderer-wonderer. Maybe back to Thailand, or perhaps China or Japan. Maybe South America or Europe. All of these places have openings for a native speaker to teach English.
Until next time, live from Mitchell, South Dakota,
Namaste.

Life as an English Teacher

Hello friends, creditors, and anyone else who's clicked onto this site.

Life is full. Perhaps a little too full, but that's of my own choosing (or at least of my own acquiescence). Here in Khorat, a native English speaker with a modicum of intelligence and cultural flexibility encounters exponentially expanding possibilities. My full-time job is at Wat Srakaew Primary School in the heart of the city. Over 2,500 students, and I am the lone farang (foreign) staff. I teach English to 5th and 6th graders, working with each class one period per week. My first day I enjoyed the pretense of anonymity, with sidewise glances from the shy and smiles from the bold. Now I can't get more than five feet without, "hello," "hi," "how are you?"

As my schedule begins to stabilize, here's life on a weekly basis employment-wise:

* Monday
- 8:00 - 4:00: Wat Srakaew

* Tuesday
- 8:00 - 4:00: Wat Srakaew
- 5:30 - 7:00: Chance Language School (CLS); 12 and 13 year-olds

* Wednesday
- 8:00 - 4:00: Wat Srakaew

* Thursday
- 8:00 - 3:00: Wat Srakaew
- 4:00 - 7:00: Buddhist University

Friday
- 10:00-3:00: Thai Air Force
- 5:30 - 6:30: CLS; adult general english

* Saturday
- 9:00 - 10:00: CLS; 7 year-olds
- 10:00-12:00: CLS; adult writing and conversation
- 1:00 - 3:00: CLS; 9 year-olds
- 5:00 - 6:00: CLS; adult general English

Sunday
- 8:00 - 9:00: Temple; local village children
- 10:00-12:00: CLS; kindergarden
- 1:00 - 3:00: CLS; Adult writing and conversation
- 4:00 - 6:00: Temple; monks

Whew! You'd think I have a Type-A personality or something. Actually, from age 21 until now, I've averaged about three months off a year. So this is the exception; not the rule.

Most of these jobs would like me to do more, and some have made additional offers. Two different people have asked me to open a language school, and a Thai senatorial candidate wants to co-author an English book. The temple is contemplating a nation-wide English training center for monks, and the abbot thinks I should marry his niece.

There are also lessons to plan, as well as the normal routines and vicissitudes of life; laundry, eating, transportation, toilet.... I drop my laundry off, and my knowledge of cheap restaurants is expanding. Transportation is usually the pick-up-truck-like song taew. Imagine a can of sardines. Imagine something tighter, and that's me in a song taew. Also, I have learned to carry my own toilet paper. Most Thai toilets are equipped with a bucket of water, but no paper. I don't even want to know. Some things are better left a mystery.

As crazy as my schedule is, it is bringing me into contact with a wide spectrum of Thai society. And, I've only given a 6-month comittment to all concerned parties. After that, I'll evaluate. I might drop a job or two and stay longer in Khorat. Or, I could work somewhere else in Thailand; maybe an island resort down south. I may even head back to the States and find a ski resort or a national park for the winter. For now, I remain a stranger in a strange land. But then, aren't we all?

Chok dee, namaste, and Bula!!!!

Greg