Around the World with Greg

Back to the Drawing Board

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Wed, 17 Jan 2007 03:51:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sat, 01 Jul 2006 21:53:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Mon, 19 Dec 2005 04:28:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Tue, 11 Oct 2005 08:41:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sun, 18 Sep 2005 06:17:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sun, 17 Jul 2005 09:56:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Wed, 25 May 2005 10:41:00 +0000

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

KHORAT (Nakhonratchasima)

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Wed, 27 Apr 2005 13:30:00 +0000

I arrived at the Khorat bus station, where Bill was waiting to pick me up. Bill is my predecessor here, and we have a couple of weeks overlap before he moves on.

Dropped my luggage in the new digs, exchanged my sweat-drenched shirt for a dry one, and then had an audience with the Abbot. In addition to Bill, the Abbot and myself, there were two other monks in the room. One, Pra Suwat, served as the interpreter.
We had tea, and discussed a slew of topics ranging from Abraham Lincoln to education. Lampor (the abbot) believes that behind different belief systems we are all the same anyway.

Fair enough. I can get behind that.

* * *

It has been ten days since my arrival. My time has been full, and promises to be fuller still. I'll use this entry to recap some of the highlights, and give a brief orientation to my place on the space-time continuim.

First, I'm not actually in Khorat. The temple is located about fifteen miles away, in a small village. It's about a 15 minute walk from here to the small town of Home Gardens, which is where I'm presently tapping out this blog. Aside from the internet; there are a couple of places to eat here, a number of small shops, some food stalls, and a place where I can have my laundry done. Another 20 minutes on foot takes me to the bigger town of Choho, the location of my language school employment. There's also a post office here and a large outdoor market.

I talk in terms of foot travel, but heat and humidity combine to make motorized locomotion preferable. The public transport is a vehicle somewhere between a bus and a pick-up truck, and I can flag it down just outside the temple gates. The price of a ride is 12 cents, whether I'm going to Home Gardens or all the way into Khorat.
The temple itself is a decent size. It houses 27 monks, 5 novices, a few temple boys and myself. Currently there are also about nineteen temporary novices, boys aged 10 to 13, who will be here for a week. Sometimes I wake in the morning to find them staring in my window wanting to see magic tricks.

I live in a house-room that was formerly the abbot's, so it's pretty spacious, relatively speaking. It has a bed, fridge, desk, couch, and a heavy-duty fan. There is a curtained door at the back of my room, which could reasonably be assumed to be a closet. Actually, it's a crypt, with ashes sealed into compartments along the wall. Occasionally relatives of the deceased will come by in the company of a monk to pay respects. I welcome them in; they light incense, candles, and do the appropriate chants. Talk about skeletons in my closet!

Another unique feature to the living space is my new 'alarm clock.' At 5 am everyday the temple bell is rung (the bell tower is close to my room, and actually a pretty cool place to hang out). I could probably adjust to this, maybe incorporate it into my dreams, except that the pitch sets all the temple dogs to howling and barking. I estimate about 30 dogs live on the grounds, half-wild, but taking advantage of buddhist sanctuary. Goodbye Timex; hello Fido.

In a related vein, I'm sort of inheriting a dog from Bill. When he first arrived at the temple he was met by a pack of snarling dogs. Except for one, who tail-wagged it's way past the mob and dropped a leaf at his feet. He has made sure this dog gets food and attention, and I'll keep up the tradition.

But my canine count grows larger! My bathroom is behind my house; a room with a squat toilet, and a barrel and bucket for showers. I was off to the toilet the night before last, and there was a very young puppy taking refuge there. Already missing some fur due to mange, and very frightened and hungry. I helped him along, and in the morning his brother was there as well, in the same bedraggled and vulnerable shape. So now I feed them, and they cry when I leave. I'll at least give them a helping hand on the road to survival. A friend suggested I name them Lucky and Chok Dee ('good luck,' in Thai).

The language school where I am teaching had an English summer camp a few days after I arrived. We took a train from Khorat to Khao Yai National Park, and for three days I sang, played, and spoke English with about 35 Thai kids. I've also taught 6 classes so far, ranging from kindergarden to adult conversation and writing.

This is not a tourist area, and a farang (foreign) teacher is a commodity. I will also be teaching two classes at the Buddhist University when it resumes in May. In addition to teaching monks at the temple, I am in the planning stages of forming a class in English Buddhism for the local village children. We are also discussing the possibility of creating a training venue here for monks from other temples. Further; I have been asked to teach at the local college, and to give English lessons to the Thai Army.

This is just the first ten days, and leads me to believe that I will have a meaningful and varied sojourn here.

I now have a mailing address; two, actually:

Ajarn Greg
Wat Pramuanrat
Choho, Muang
Nakhon Ratchasima
30310 Thailand

Ajarn Greg
Chance Language School
230/1 Mittraphab Road
Choho, Nakhonratchasima
30310 Thailand

Chok dee, all!
Greg

Happy New Year (again)

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sat, 16 Apr 2005 01:12:00 +0000

Another chapter in this journey, and an appropriate time for another blog entry.
The past couple of months I've been in Phuket, I'm writing this in Bangkok, and tomorrow will find me in Khorat. So let me revert to my first entry, and get a little Dickensonian on you.

THE GHOST WRITER OF TRAVELS PRESENT:
Sometimes I think of writing a blog entry and all I can come up with is; 'Wow!,' or 'ahhh,' or simply, 'awe.' I guess if these are the top three contenders, life is going pretty good.
Today is April 15 and, as mentioned, I'm in Bangkok. It is day two of Songkran, the 3-day celebration of the Thai New Year. The Thai also celebrate international New Year on January 1, and Chinese New Year in February. This is great for me: give me as many new beginnings as possible!

Originally Songkran incorporated water rituals to ensure a good rain for the crops. It expanded to include young people sprinkling the hands of elders as a token of respect. But today... Songkran is a full-on water fight that lasts three days. In some regions the deluge goes on even longer.

This is a family-oriented holiday, and the roads of Thailand are swollen with people returning to their homes for the New Year. Traffic casualties are high, and busses and trains are sold out.

The ferocity of the celebration varies from city to city, and even within Bangkok some areas are more active than others. For example, I am writing this from (mea culpa) a Starbuck's in Siam Square. It's a fashionable shopping complex, and most of the people walking past me are dry. On the other extreme, Khao San Road (the infamous mecca of budget travelers) is undergoing a full-scale war. Police are out in force, both as crowd control and for terrorist prevention. You can't move your arms without touching someone, and usually can't go for more than 15 seconds without being liquidly assaulted. Paste is popular too, some kind of starch, I think. People sprinkle it on your clothes, or wipe it on your face. I've discovered that a big beard is an irresistable paste target.

I am staying in the Thewet District, next to the National Library. There is a small enclave of guest houses here; a tourist island in a largely non-tourist area. In the scale of things, Songkran-wise, Thewet is somewhere between Khao San Road and Siam Square. Walking down the street, literally every ten feet there is a vendor selling water, squirt guns and paste pellets. Food stalls of all sorts are crowded between, and most people are armed with water.

When I first ventured onto the street on Day One, I made it half a block unscathed. While assessing the situation, I avoided eye contact and trusted that my older, bearded, foreign presence would be somewhat intimidating. It was, until a three-year-old stopped in front of me with a cup of paste and beckoned me down so she could annoint my cheeks. No way to refuse that and keep your soul, and from then on I was marked and fair game. Somewhat like a fire hydrant in Dog Land.

Some people squirt little pistols, and some attack with high powered rifles. And it's not just the sidewalks. Armed motorcycles dart by. Pick-up trucks cruise the streets, loaded with people and large containers of water, assaulting pedestrians and each other. At any time these pick-up trucks have a tendency to become rhythm sections, transforming into beat and dance.

The overall scene is one of unbridled fun and good will. Every child is armed with a smile and water pistol, planning for the next target. They are filled to overflowing with glee, and why not? It's a 3-day non-stop water fight, where even strange adults are fair game.

Most adults are filled with glee as well. The Thais seem drawn to fun (sunuk) as bees are to flowers, and I love them for that.

An unexpected highlight of this phenomena for me: Ever so often, I pass someone who does not overpower me with aqua combat. Instead, they gently pour a few drops on my shoulder in blessing. They sometimes wai (bow), and wish me a Happy New Year with their eyes. Typically, this person is very young or very old, and their annointing genuinely feels like a blessing.

I wandered into Wat Pho just before dusk. This is a large temple complex, adjoining the Grand Palace. For some reason, maybe because it was close to closing, I found myself wandering alone through the normally crowded labyrinth. Ornate architecture, soaring spirals, gold-plated buddhas behind glass... quite a surreal experience. Maybe having hundreds of people throw water at you alters consciousness. The unreal tinge was probably heightened by the book I am reading, 'Refiner's Fire,' by Mark Helprin. He also wrote 'A Winter's Tale,' and he taps an altered state in his narratives.

I left Wat Pho and made my way to Sam Luang, a large field used for rituals and celebrations. Thousands of people, kites, music, water and light shows, and a sunset that illuminated the exquisite roofs of the grand palace.

Wow! Ahhh... Awe.

THE GHOST WRITER OF TRAVELS PAST:
I was able to duck out a week early from my TEFL course in Phuket. Test grades were high, class participation good, and teaching skills noted. Besides, I DID basically do the whole course twice!

I decided to spend that week in the Province of Krabi, and I'll give a brief overview of the trip. I find this kind of narrative difficult, because things are constantly happening when I travel; a kaleidoscope of snapshots, both internal and external. How to expain.... So much of what there is to relate is not manifested in extraordinary events. It is the rhythm of everyday; the sights quickly gleaned from a bus, the short talks, and sometimes just the greeting exchanged with a passing person.

So I will relate the travel, but read between the lines and imagine all that I could not encompass in my description. Look for the shy smile of a young child and the warm glance of a Thai woman. Imagine the turquoise sea spread in all its splendor just beyond your icy glass of beer as sunset performs. Comprehend the lives of a people still recovering from a natural disaster that changed their lives forever. See the orange-robed monks, and hear the mosque speakers calling out to the faithful.

Try this. Imagine the things that you love, that touch your heart; and see them mirrored in the eyes of people half a world away.

You know what? After all that in-between-the-lines stuff, a travel commentary feels overly mundane. Suffice it to say that I went to Rae Lei Beach for two nights, and enjoyed beautiful beaches, sunsets and a playful monkey. I spent a day in Krabi town with a friend and her family; hot springs, good food and good company.... Her cousin, a gentle 10-year-old boy, was playting on the beach when the tsunmai struck. As the waters receeded, he rushed onto the sand to gather the flapping (and suddenly waterless) fish. Then the wave roared in and struck him full force. He was missing for 4 hours, but was found with only minor sratches and bruises. I spent two nights on Phi Phi island, where some of the worst devastation took place. Still alot of destruction and rubble, but people are moving forward.
Then back to Phuket for 'graduation ceremonies,' and a celebratory dinner with my fellow students-now-teachers.
Because it was approaching Songkran, there were no available busses from Phuket to Bangkok. I caught a ride with my TEFL instructor, his wife and two daughters aged 4 and 6. They were heading back to Samui, and I had a fun time with the kids until we reached Sura Thani where I was able to catch a sleeper train into Bangkok.

GHOST WRITER OF TRAVELS FUTURE:
In this lifestyle, the future is a tricky animal to pin down. In fact, I think it's meant to be left free. But unforseen events not withstanding, I at least know what comes next. Tomorrow night I move into my new home, a buddhist temple in Khorat. I will teach monks English one night a week. I will teach classes in the nearby buddhist university, and I will teach children in a language school. This is the outline, and time will color in the details.

I expect it to be overwhelming at first, but manageable. And after getting a handle on what exactly it is that I'm doing, I should establish a rhythm of sorts. I have given a 6-month commitment to all three jobs, and I look forward to a time of reflection and renewal.

Afterwards? Maybe a 6-month stint in a resort down south, teaching staff English and customer service. Then maybe a summer gig in the States, followed by a year in China. Hard to say....

Once again, Happy New Year!!!!

Phuket

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sun, 06 Mar 2005 11:19:00 +0000

My friends, five of them, arrived on my last night in Samui. We left the next day via a ferry-mini-bus combination, and arrived in Phuket Town, the hub of Phuket Province. After a sweltering non-air conditioned night there, we took a local bus to the seaside town of Kamala for a three-night stay.

Kamala was one of the areas seriously damaged by the tsunami, and its impact was visible everywhere. Buildings demolished, piles of rubble..... And many people with stories to tell. The man I bought a t-shirt from had lost his wife. The woman who cooked my lunch had lost the business she'd built up over a lifetime of effort. No one seemed untouched; everyone had lost family or friends.

There were good stories as well. A young woman who served me a beer had taken her baby inland to the doctor just twenty minutes before the tsunami struck. The primary school, located on an unprotected ocean site, has 340 students. If the tsunami had hit on a weekday instead of Sunday, the death toll among the kids would have been horrendous. My friends and I did a magic-juggling-theatrical show for the school while we were there. Sweet kids. When I left Kamala (and my friends), the taxi-driver who took me to Patong also had a good luck story. Normally parked along the ocean, he'd had a call for an airport delivery half an hour before the tidal wave hit.

And on and on and on. Death, loss, hope, grief, destruction, rebuilding.....

So now I am in Patong. When people talk about Phuket, this is often the place they're refering to. It's located on the coast, and is best known for its beaches and nightlife. Patong was also devastated by the tsunami, but the rebuilding effort here appears to be better funded. McDonald's was wiped out, but Starbuck's has already reopened. Subway and KFC seem to be fine. Bangla Road, the main action scene for alcohol and sex, is thriving.

But the streets fronting the beach are almost all still under construction. Makeshift businesses have been set up among the girders and half completed walls. It does make you want to help, somehow, in some way. A person in my TEFL course fasts one day a week, and then gives the money he's budgeted for food to someone in need.

Yes, once again here I am studying how to teach English as a foreign language. There are 13 students in the class. One week finished, and five more to go.

I am also taking Thai classes. Quite a process! Thai is a tonal language, with five different tones that alter the meaning of a word. 'Ying,' for example. Ying, pronouced with a high tone, means a type of plant. With a low tone; arrogant. Neutral; shoot. Rising; a girl. Falling; 'the more' (as in, 'the more you do something...). Here's a classic example to illustrate the point. 'Mai, mai mai mai mai?' (yes, it is a sentence) means: 'New wood doesn't burn, does it?'

Last weekend I took a lengthy bus ride to Khorat, a few hours north-east of Bangkok. So now I have a job (three jobs, actually) waiting for me when I finish my course.
1. In exchange for room and board at the temple, I will be teaching English to monks one night a week.
2. There is a buddhist university in Khorat, and I will teach a couple of classes there.
3. I will also be teaching English to children, ages 6 to 12, in a language school.

In the interim, I'm having a good time living in Phuket.

Chok dee (good luck),
Greg

TEFL on Samui

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Wed, 09 Feb 2005 10:04:00 +0000

February 9, 2005. Happy Chinese New Year!!!

Looking back at the date of my last entry, this is a good day to blog. Let me get underway with a little catch-up in the space-time continuim.

Way back when, on January 1st, I was picked up at my Bangkok hotel by a MOTORCYCLE! Usually I travel light, but I'm prepared to be overseas for awhile so I am equipped to meet the role of traveller, student, teacher and backpacker. This translated into four bags, and a very wobbly motorcycle ride to my tourist bus.

In most of Asia, if one is of sound mind, body and not prone to addiction, there is no need to stay awake when you want to sleep nor sleep when you want to stay awake. I dropped two valiums, read a bit, listened to my walkman and was GONE until waking up when the bus stopped the next morning.

Suratthani is the departure point for boats heading to Koh Samui. We pulled in at 5:30 am to a small travel agency-slash-restaurant. Then it was a two-hour wait for a transfer bus to take us the remaining fifteen minutes to the ferry. Call me a cynic, but I think this was just to increase the chances of our dishing out money for coffee, sandwiches and snacks.

Anyway, slightly groggy but functional, I eventually crossed water and docked on Samui, the third largest island in Thailand. The most populated area, Chaweng, is where my TEFL course was being held and my lodging awaited...

Back to the present:

I truly enjoyed the TEFL class. Had an excellent teacher, got a handle on how to create a teaching plan, and the group of 6th-graders I practiced on were incredibly sweet kids. But (and, this is a major 'but'): I had enrolled in this class under the auspices of Text and Talk, a company headquartered in Bangkok. During week five of this six-week course, I discovered that the Koh Samui branch had broken away from the parent company. This meant that my certificate would not carry the weight that I was expecting, and that I wouldn't have the job resources of this company to draw on.
Long story short: Text and Talk has offered my class a free course elsewhere, and on February 21st I begin my 6-week TEFL course (again) on the island of Phuket. To be honest, this really doesn't harsh my mellow. Phuket was one of the areas heavily hit by the tsunami, and I think I'll have an interesting time there. If not, well, Phuk et.

So I have had leisurely last week here in the sun and surf of Koh Samui. Today I'm meeting up with a friend from the States, and we'll probably head to another nearby island for a few days.

Every three months I have to leave the Country, even if only for five minutes to renew my visa. So, post island-hopping, I'll drop down to Malaysia for a quick border run. Then, onward to Phuket.

I've also used this free week to email my resume to some potential employers. The top three at the moment, or at least the most interesting, are:

1. Teaching buddhist monks English, one night a week, in exchange for free room and board at the monastary. My income would come from teaching classes at the nearby Buddhist University.

2. Working as the resident English instructor and trainer at a posh island resort.

3. English teacher at an all-girls Catholic boarding school.

Next blog: Sex in Asia.

P.S. That was not a segue.

Happy New Year

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Sat, 01 Jan 2005 08:53:00 +0000

For the last 6 weeks I have been contentedly flowing with the rhythms of extended travel. Now however, it's the first day of a new year and the beginning of a new phase in my own sojourn. An auspicious time to begin logging and blogging.

My Thai wanderings have included Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Pai (ah, Pai!), and Kanchanaburi. The concept of prequels has worked well for George Lucas, and at some point I may decide to go back in time and describe these journeys. Still, for now I'll speak from the present.

First, an acknowledgement of this region's recent disaster. I was inland and north on December 26th, too far away to feel the tsunami's impact. My exposure to the event is probably similar to yours; images from the media and conversations with other people.

In Bangkok, where I am posting this, there are relief stations collecting money and clothing. A blood drive for Rh negative is underway. Official New Year celebrations were canceled last night as a symbol of national mourning.

I won't comment on the images and statistics. You've seen and know what I do. But I will offer a few words not of information but of personal sharing.

The scope of this event is so large that it really doesn't sink in for me. The current death toll is 115,00, but it's still climbing. While this is sobering, I do not find myself overwhelmed by something so abstract as a number.

What drives it home for me, are the individual stories; women left without husbands and children, children left without parents.... Villages where generations of families and neighbors lived together, literally wiped off the planet.

Knowing how many, many of these dramas are being lived out; this is what impacts me. This is what gives me a sense of shared humanity with the victims and with humankind as a whole.

O.k., the present. It is the first of January, and tonight at 6 pm a bus will pick me up at my guest house. Sometime in the early morning hours I will transfer to a ferry, and at 10 tomorrow morning (in theory) I will arrive on the island of Ko Samui, ready to begin my six-week TEFL course (teaching english as a foreign language).
I will keep you posted.

Happy New Year!!!

The Beginning

noreply@blogger.com (Greg) — Fri, 03 Dec 2004 06:19:00 +0000

It was the best of blogs. It was the worst of blogs. . . .

Mea culpa. It's blatant plagiarism, but I wanted a successful entrance into this project.

This is my third week in Thailand, and I do not plan to touch U.S. soil for some time. Perhaps not until we have a Democratic President. This is not ideological martyrdom; simply political optimism, and a desire for this geographic exploration to be a lengthy one.

Blogging is new to me. Travel is not. At age 15, financed by four years of hawking newspapers, I spent three months hitching and train-riding through Europe and North Africa. Since then, many other journeys have followed, both inner and outer.

"THE BLOG!" Please bear with me as I evolve with this process. At present, two considerations arise for me; the layout and the content.

LAY-OUT: I am initiating this project with words, but I hope to be supplementing my prose with photographs. Towards that end I have purchased a digital camera, which at this point I understand slightly less than Einstein's theory of relativity.

Because of my chosen life, there have been some sketchy adventures along the way. Bears have demanded my food on more than one occasion, and I've fractured an ankle dodging a charging rhinoceros. A bomb exploded (much too close) in Bangladesh, and I was intended victim of a would-be robber at knife point. . . . numerous stories, which now resting safely in the past make for amusing anecdotes.

But! Few things have been as overwhelming as wandering through a five-story electronics plaza in Bangkok, attempting to purchase the appropriate digital camera. So, someday, pictures will appear on this Blog but I will not be so foolish as to predict when.
CONTENT: What am I writing, and who am I writing to?

Gandhi once said, and I paraphrase, "God is absolute and knows absolute truth. I am mortal, and my knowledge of truth changes from day to day. And my duty must be to truth; not to consistency."

So these writings will be an evolutionary process. I currently envision them including travel tales, travel tips (both regional and general), and a smattering of mental wandering as well. I would hope to include narrative, humor, information and, at times, some thoughts that will resonate with your own sense of truth. And, please god, at some point pictures.

My readers? Family and friends, certainly, who will do the obligatory website click. This will provide me the opportunity to share my whereabouts and happenings without the formality of a group email.
However, I also hope to connect with people I haven't met; fellow wanderers and wonderers: travelers of feet and of soul. No pun intended. In this spirit, I dedicate my blog to those who, like myself, are temporary pilgrims. On close examination, this is a fairly inclusive category. For we all share the same journey from cradle to grave, and we all have a limited time allowed for the trip.

Let me finish this lengthy beginning with a brief orientation of past, present and future. Hopefully this will serve to give us the same frame of reference (right: like THAT'S going to happen).

Past: For the previous two years I have been an EAP counselor at the Grand Canyon. Basically, this meant working as a therapist and referal source for the primary concessionaire's employees.

Present: After two weeks in Bangkok visiting a variety of friends, I am now in the Northern city of Chiang Mai. Tomorrow I leave for a three-day jungle trek, and then plan to do some wandering before returning to Bangkok for my birthday (December 20). On January 3 I begin a six-week TEFL (teaching english as a foreign language) on the Thai island of Ko Samui.

Future: If I still have cash at the end of my TEFL course, I'd like to spend a month or two in Laos. If funds are running low, then I'll look for a teaching position. At this point, I'm leaning towards either Thailand or rural China.

In a nutshell, that's the gameplan. But as Gandalph told Bilbo, "Way leads to way," and all things are subject to change.

I wish you joyful ponderings and blissful wanderings.

Namaste, Greg