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.
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.
