Thoughts on Burma and Cat-throwing

Turns out blogspot.com uses Picasa to upload pictures and I only get 1 GB free before I have to upgrade to a plan. I have plenty more photos to upload, so I'm debating about buying this plan ($2.50/month for 25 GB). We'll see.

Jules and I took our scooter to our first big weekend trip, Chiang Dao (up north). It was quite relaxing and fun (and cold!), so that will be a fun post coming up.

One of my favorite things about not just traveling, but also living in various parts of the world is that I get to learn so much more about the country I'm living in as well as its neighbors. I'm more likely to hear about politics or news from the area, so I'm more likely to Wikipedia it to learn more, and I feel slightly more informed about the world.

For example, I recently taught a lesson about Conditional Statements ("If, then") and I started it by asking them what countries they'd like to visit (which, if you're curious, I went on to construct the sentence, "If I visit _____, then I will _____"). Not surprisingly, they usually can only think of countries in Southeast Asia, and almost every class I taught would shout, "Myanmar!" So I was curious as to why they were so interested in visiting this country and went home to google "Tourism in Myanmar." And upon reading up about Burma, I have to say, I am thoroughly confused. Yes we already knew about its human rights issues (rape, slavery, human trafficking, genocide, child labor, and lack of freedom of speech to name the main ones), but did you know they've only just come out with a constitution in 2008 that implements any kind of "fair" government? My favorite part is that they currently rank 172nd out of 176 on the Corruptions Perceptions Index (CPI) with a current score of 15 out of 100 (100 being the least corrupt and 0 being the most corrupt). It's an interesting scale I'm only just learning about, but whether it's accurate or not, it's safe to say that I don't quite understand why all of my students want to travel to Burma at the moment. From what I've researched, it seems like most people don't actually want tourists to visit and the few that do, want them to visit only if they are looking to better the country while "on vacation in Burma." Jules claims that my students don't actually want to go there, and that they are instead just acknowledging their neighboring countries, but I disagree. Over Lao, China (which they hardly even mention), India (which they never mention), or even Vietnam, they got really excited about Myanmar every time. Anyway, thought I'd share some of my thoughts and discoveries with you.


Also, if you were curious about my schedule, or couldn't quite understand what it is I teach exactly, I've included the two pictures I use to remind myself what class I have next. The first one is my morning school. The first number is the grade, and the second number is whether they are a 1 or 2 class (as I explained earlier about being on the "A" track or the "B" track). Julia's schedule looks similar, except it's between Kindergarten 1-3.

The second one, my afternoon school, is basically high school, so the grade 1 kids are about 13 years old. The top schedule is Julia's, and the bottom schedule is mine (except 3/3 is taught on Thursdays, not Wednesdays).

To put it into more human and less robot terms, my Mondays are hell in the morning, since it is all my lower grades who don't really pay attention, but they're great in the afternoon because it's my /1 grades. My favorite classes to teach in the morning are 5/2, 6/1, and Secondary 3. The students in these classes respect me, care about learning, try, and I feel like I can really make progress with them. My least favorite class, by FAR, is 1/2. They are young enough to be wild and disrespectful, but old enough not to care about pleasing the teacher (as kindergarten is so eager to do). That class, no matter how I approach it, gives me hell every Monday morning. I've resorted to making sure the 4 kids that pay attention (out of 37) can learn something, while trying to make sure the other 33 kids aren't doing too much damage while they hit each other, scream, cry, throw things, steal my stuff, and do their best to get on my nerves (a la hitting my butt and running away, or trying to lift up my skirt). I'm surprised I never talked about the one time I tried taking them outside to play a game (which utterly failed) and a couple of the boys kept picking up a stray cat and throwing it at the girls and I was trying to get them to stop, eventually saying, "Don't throw the cat. Stop throwing the cat! Don't. throw. the cat!" (which of course they don't understand, since I'm saying it in English). Julia laughed at the story and helped me to see the humor in never thinking I'd have to say that sentence.

Loi Krathong Pictures

Some decorations in the Old City

Capturing the Krathongs, the fireworks, the latnerns, and the river

Letting my Krathong go in the river

A floating lantern that caught fire!

One of the floats in the parade

A great scene captured by Julia. One of our favorite photos. :)

Such huge sparklers!

Revisiting the Taj

As part of my travel the world and see the wonders (in blow-up form) tour

Mr. and Mrs. Loi Krathong

I like to think "Ha-doo" is the Thai onomatopoeia for the sound an owl makes. Julia says I'm probably wrong. *Ha-doo, ha-doo*

Angry birds balloon!

Krathongs for sale

I know it's supposed to be a heart, but every time I saw these in the sky, I thought  they were upside-down Mickey Mouse pants!

Letting go!

Jumping around too much

And it's off, with all my troubles and worries

Angel Julia

Holiday Schedule: America-substitution Edition

I never covered what we did for Halloween or Thanksgiving, so I'd like to do that here.

For Halloween, we decided we wanted to carve something, though carving a pumpkin was kind of out of the question. Google image search "Thailand pumpkin" and the first two rows of pictures are the most common pumpkins you find here. In fact, we saw an orange pumpkin the other day and it was the weirdest thing for me because I forgot pumpkins can be orange. As you can see, they're pretty short and squat, and they're also very hard to cut up. So after some brainstorming, we decided the easiest and best thing to carve would be a watermelon. We still wanted to do something pumpkin-related however, since it is Halloween after all, so we bought a pumpkin as well as a watermelon. After hollowing out our baby watermelon, I carved a cutesy face and used my iPhone (in a plastic bag) to light up the inside. Meanwhile, Jules researched all the meals we can cook with a pumpkin and settled on a pumpkin soup. We bought the ingredients, cut up the pumpkin (incredibly difficult, as I mentioned; nearly lost a finger or two in the process) and Jules made THE MOST DELICIOUS MEAL EVER. It's comprised mostly of pumpkin, red curry, and coconut cream and it was pure perfection. We also dried and roasted the pumpkin seeds! Jules did such a great job with her pumpkin experiment and it made for such a delicious Halloween. Oh and at the time, I was substituting for a Kindergarten class, so I had my kids color and cut up a pumpkin mask. No dressing up in costumes, but I would certainly consider it a successful second Halloween abroad. :)

When Thanksgiving was coming up, our funds were dwindling, as we still had to wait until December 1st to receive our first major paycheck. But we decided it was important for us to really celebrate Thanksgiving, a holiday that is normally spent devouring giant meals with family and friends, that we would now be spending with just the two of us. Though we consider each other family, this was definitely a drastic change. Last year in India, a group of friends from the UCEAP program came together to conjure up the best Thanksgiving-like meal we could, since India doesn't really provide for this American holiday. In Thailand however, there are plenty of farang for the businesses to cater to, so Jules researched cafes that were renowned for providing delicious and affordable traditional American Thanksgiving dinners. We settled on Bake & Bite and made a reservation for our scrumptious dinner, which would come with everything we wanted and expected, plus pumpkin cheesecake and, my all-time favorite, cranberry sauce in a can. It was something to look forward to as our stressful workweeks continued and our money dwindled. When November 24th came, we got a little lost on the way, but finally found our oh so wonderful Thanksgiving dinner buffet (again, the pictures will do a much better job of illustrating just how delicious it was). It broke the bank a little, but was absolutely 100% worth it and for once, we felt stuffed to the point of drowsiness. Thanks to Sam, we also had some lovely Thanksgiving decorations to hang up around the apartment (including a tree with leaves where we were supposed to write what we were thankful for). And naturally, we shared our thanks for each other, Thailand, our apartment, our scooter, our jobs and our friends and family back home.

Though we spent Halloween and Thanksgiving in India last year, we were home for Christmas, so this will be our first Christmas abroad and without family. As soon as December 1st hit, we headed out to buy a tiny Christmas tree and decorations so it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas in our little studio. The only things that would make it more complete are the smell of pine needles (since it's a fake tree of course) and perhaps some chestnuts over a fire. Oh and of course, maybe if it wasn't 100 degrees everyday, it'd feel more like winter.

So that's our American-substitution holidays here. It's nice because there are a good amount of Christians here in Thailand (though the primary religion is Buddhism) so there are still glimpses of Christmas here and there (like our lobby has a cute little Christmas tree, and as I said, this cafe is playing a bit of Christmas music).

I'm not sure, but Jules and I think we get New Year's Eve and New Year's Day off. Sadly, because we work for a government school and a non-Christian private school, we won't get Christmas day off. But we're seriously considering calling in sick that day, because it won't be much of a loss for them to have one day without us, but it will be so important to us to have that day to celebrate (and maybe even Skype with loved ones!).

And last but not least, my birthday's coming up! I'll soon be turning the age nobody really wants to be, and the first age in which you're getting older and it's no longer a good thing. Hope your holidays are well. Leave a comment or two to send some love!

Thanks for reading! The pictures will come in the next entries to entertain those who are tired of reading and prefer pictures (*ahem,* Louise).

Holiday Schedule: Thailand Edition

I've been kicking my butt for weeks now to try and get these blog entries out and I think I'm finally able to sit down and do it. So here I sit in a British-themed cafe, sipping on my iced cafe mocha (only my third caffeine-related purchase since I've moved here), and listening to Christmas music (something I'm sure many of you have been doing for weeks, but this is a rare find in Thailand). It's one of the many cafes in Chiang Mai and specifically on my street alone, which is comprised mainly of bars, cafes, clubs, and an occasional haircut place (side note, this makes it sound like I live in some crazy youngsters village, but really Jules and I just happened to find a great deal in a little apartment tucked away from this main huge road that we soon found out is apparently THE place to be). I've also admittedly had terrible writer's block and haven't been able to easily put into words how amazing our adventures have been, but it seems like I'm doing better now. Nothing a mocha can't fix. So here goes!


It took a bit to figure all of this out, so I'm saving you the extensive research, word of mouth, and confusion we put together to bring to you, Holiday Schedule: Thailand Edition.

Yi (or Yee) Ping is a celebration that happens on the full moon of the second month of the old northern Lanna kingdom calendar. Loi Krathong is a celebration that happens on the full moon of the twelfth month of the Thai Lunar Calendar. This means they both end up happening around the same time every year and as a result, many people think the two holidays are the same thing with different names. Yes, they both involve lots of lights and lanterns. They both have celebrations and parades. They both attract enormous crowds of people. But they are definitely two separate holidays.

For starters, Yi Ping is a Lanna tradition that pays homage to Lord Buddha. As a Buddhist celebration, there was a lot--and I mean A LOT--of chanting/prayers/meditation. It went on for hours. It's interesting how most accounts of the event only talk about the lantern release, which doesn't happen until the very end of the event and actually doesn't last very long. It is, by far, the most interesting part of the ceremony, and the only part everybody's there for. One of the biggest places to celebrate Yi Ping is at Maejo University, which is about an hour outside of town. They have a Thai version of events and a Foreign version, which they only recently instituted, I imagine to bring in money, as I've heard it's 100 baht for a ticket to get in, while the Thai version is free (which is RIDICULOUS. That's like charging you $30 to go see Santa when you can just see him for free at your local mall). So we hopped on our handy-dandy motorbike and scooted out to the crowds of sweaty people trying to find a spot on the lawn where they can launch their lantern (which is also referred to as a balloon, or my favorite, fire-balloon). We arrived their fairly early and were pretty exhausted by the time we actually got to release our lantern, but it's absolutely worth it (at least once in your life, probably never again).

The releasing of your lantern into the air is supposed to represent releasing your fears and troubles and worries of the past year. It's about renewal and rebirth (which I'm sure you could have figured out on your own given that it's a Buddhist holiday). The pictures will help explain this better, but the lantern is basically this giant light paper bag thing with a wooden circle on the bottom and a little circle in the middle that is made of some sort of wax. You hold the lantern over a lighter or candle and let it fill up with hot air as the little wax circle ignites. Once it has filled completely (like a hot air balloon), you release it! And it floats away amongst the dozens or hundreds or thousands of others, depending on where you are. The moment when you actually let it go is hard to describe. It's probably so--for lack of a better word--magical because it's oh so fleeting. You patiently wait for the lantern to fill, hoping you don't set fire to the surrounding paper, it slowly tugs upward as if it has come to life, and when you're done taking pictures and laughing (and really, when you're ready to let go), you hold it above your head and you release it. And in that instant, you are filled with this joy that is as if you were the balloon itself, flying away. It's a funny and somewhat unexpected feeling because normally with events that hold symbolism, we always feel like we have to keep reminding ourselves what the thing represents. Like all the stuff with graduation; pulling your tassel to the other side, or "walking" at all. I feel like we always have to imbue these physical events with their spiritual representation. But every once in a while, the spiritual representation takes over and we don't have to think, we just feel. The moments in graduating when I felt like I made it and that I was taking the next step in my life didn't happen on the stage, hearing my name called, or moving the tassel. They happened when I was hugging all of my friends, or eating my celebratory lunch with my parents. So if you get what I'm trying to say, the lantern release is so amazing partly because letting go of your lantern is just one of those moments where the feelings take over before you have to think about how significant it's all supposed to be. It's freeing. And uplifting. (I'm sure I'm doing tons of blabbering in this blog, but I guess I have a lot to say since It's been so long!)

So after we released a few lanterns and took pictures and made our way through the crowd back to our motorbike, it started POURING RAIN. Serious thunderstorm status. Lightning, thunder, and literally sideways raindrops just catapulting towards us. Everybody starts yelling and running to get to their rides. We have one poncho leftover from the guy who sold us the scooter, so we decide Julia should wear it, with all the valuables (particularly her SLR camera) underneath. After a quick warning about how careful I should be from Julia-dearest, we made our way through puddles (puddles that seemed like lakes) and rain (rain that felt like tiny rocks) to drive the hour back home. I was freezing to the bone, just trying to keep myself from shaking so that I could control the bike. And I couldn't put my helmet visor down because it would just get splattered with rain, so I had to drive with my head at this weird downward angle so that I could still see. After about 10 minutes of this, we got to a main road where there were bits of shelter here and there so I immediately stopped and Jules and hid under a small awning with a group of others while we waited for the rain to die down. We eventually made our way home safe and sound, though that was an experience for the books. Oh and also, when we got to Yi Ping, we didn't know we couldn't wear shorts, so we had to buy some cheapo black pants that we could wear there. Needless to say, when we peeled them off back in our apartment, our legs and shorts underneath had been dyed black. But as Jules said, there's a certain kind of beauty in being wet and giving up on trying to be dry.

Loi Krathong (pronounced Loi as in "boy" and Kra-tong as in "song") roughly translates to floating float...basically. But the "float" or "krathong" is a vessel typically made of banana leaves that contains flowers, candles, and incense. Traditionally, people take these to their nearest rivers and release them in the water. Like Yi Ping, it represents letting go and starting anew, though the origins of this holiday are a little more murky (I think the article I linked does a great job of explaining it). Vendors make and sell krathongs for people near the waters, some of them made of foods like breads. For the most part, I think they try to make everything natural and biodegradable since they're releasing thousands of them into the river. Ironically, I've also heard releasing them into the water is supposed to thank the river for providing for us during the past year. We thank the river by throwing a bunch of shit into it at the end of the year (including the thousands of fireworks that people set off).

For some reason, even though schools consider this to be one of the biggest holidays of the year, they still have school on these days, but nobody does anything but prepare. It's like the last day of school: everyone has to be there, but really it's all about celebration. So because I was there but not teaching, I got to set off fireworks with the kids (it's too bad America's a first world nation because setting off huge fireworks with kids is actually quite fun. Yes, the kind of fun where I'm like, "They're letting 7-year-olds do this?? Is that okay?!" but fun nonetheless), and make my own krathong! I took pictures of the process of making a krathong so you can see :). In addition to krathongs, more fire balloons, and fireworks and sparklers of all kinds, they have parades, giant floats, and a Mr. and Ms. Loi Krathong beauty pageant.

Loi Krathong happens over three days (27th-29th) and they have a parade in each city for each day. Lamphun's parade happens on the first day, and since the school we teach at in the morning is a private school, they participate in the parade. Put two and two together and you guessed it, Jules and I were thus invited to expected to be in the parade as well. They told us about it a month in advance (which is amazing by any standard, but especially by Thai standards) and took us to buy our own traditional Thai outfits for the event. We even stayed in Lamphun overnight (in the owner of the schools' house, which is on the school grounds). After our usual day of teaching, we dressed up, got our hair and makeup done, and made our way to the parade. It was quite fun--and really weird--to see some of the older students all dressed and make-upped themselves. With make-up on, some of the older kids looked to be about our age, if not older! The only thing that gave them away was the way they carried themselves, otherwise at one point Jules thought one of the students I teach was a teacher themselves.

So here we are, taking pictures, ready to walk, and it starts raining. We hurriedly get under some umbrellas and as it worsens, we find some nearby shelter. A half hour or so passes and we figure out that they've pretty much given up on the parade and parents are taking their kids home. So that was our parade marching experience in Lamphun. It's pretty hilarious when you think about it, and calls to mind a literal "don't rain on my parade" and how accurate that token phrase is. Nevertheless, we got to watch the Chiang Mai parade the following day and saw a few white people that let us know how we'd probably look had we walked in Lamphun's parade. The parade mostly consists of people on cheesy floats dressed as what we believe to be the water gods. Most of them look not all that happy or painfully fake smiling. Some floats were really beautiful and some costumes were fun to see, but for the most part, a bunch of unhappy dressed up people.

(I'd just like to take a moment to talk about how the cafe I'm in is currently playing this song. So when I say it's playing Christmas music, take that loosely.)

I think that pretty much sums up our Thailand November Holiday Experience! We'll get some pictures up that definitely won't do the events justice, but will provide a glimpse of how beautiful and charming and wonderful it all was. :)

Facts About the Job

As with Jules' previous entry, this one was written over a week ago, but we never posted it because we thought we'd add to it. Here are the details of what we teach, so maybe our "Jumble of Thoughts" entries will become clearer.

Our first week of teaching was an interesting one. I teach grades 1st through 8th in the morning, while Julia teaches three different Kindergarten levels, and in the afternoon we both teach 9th through 12th. I have each class for one hour a week, which as you will find, has its pros and cons. The way they set up many schools in Thailand is, they have an A track and a B track for every level. This turns out to be more important than the grade level they're in, as our Secondary 2/1 or 3/1 (which is like 9th and 10th grade) know more and are smarter than our 4/2 or 5/2 (which is like 11th and 12th grade). At first, this system seems to be the opposite of what we'd want for students. If the levels aren't mixed, then those who are right on the cusp who end up in the lower class, will only end up sinking down. Or those who are put in the lower class might feel they shouldn't try because they've already been labeled and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. We thought about it though, and developed many theories as to why they might feel this is the best system for the kids. For one, the classes are large, so they already had to split them up in order to have a maximum of 40 in every class. They might have tried randomizing it, but soon found that the smarter/more hard-working kids were prevented from learning because of the trouble-makers and class clowns. Additionally, as with most schools in and around Chiang Mai, foreigners come, teach 6 months to a year, then leave. So every year these students are subjected to a new foreigner who has come to change the world in a White Man's Burden type of way (not dancing around the fact that we're slightly guilty in this). After a conversation with one of the better English speakers, we learned that they tell the students the "1" or "A" track is for science, while the "2" or "B" track is for language (aka, they want their smarter students to go into the hard sciences, while they leave the floofly arts and humanities to their lower-level kids. Because who in their right mind would study Psychology or English or Art right?). An interesting approach to say the least. I'm just glad they're at least telling the kids the difference between 1 and 2 is what they study, even if some of them do figure out that the 1 class is technically better. Additionally, similar to Western Education, the kids are placed in their track and pretty much stay on that course for the rest of their grade-school education. Once you're in advanced math, you stay on the advanced math course. So track "A" or "1" kids have been track 1 kids since the very beginning.

With this schedule, Julia and I think of a combined total of about 4 lesson plans in a week. Julia thinks of two for the morning classes, because she sees many of her classes twice a week. I think of one for all of my morning classes for the week, because though I'm teaching different grade levels, I teach the same thing. It's just a matter of making the activity or conversation or vocabulary more complex or simple depending on their level and age. And then in the afternoon, we teach the same lesson plan to each of our classes, again varying the level of difficulty. As you may guess, this is one major pro of having each class for one hour once a week.

More PROS about our teaching schedule:

1. Two part-time jobs actually have higher pay and fewer work hours when compared to a full-time job (BUT, see number 2 in the CONS).
2. The first school provides lunch for us before we have to go off to the second school. THIS. IS. GLORIOUS. Not only are the lunches plentiful and DELICIOUS (in Thai: aroi), they're (technically) FREE! So we collapse after three straight hours of teaching, and enjoy an authentic Thai lunch of chicken or curry or noodles with some sort of fruit and some sort of soup. Not having to worry about our lunches saves us so much time and stress AND money. What's not to like? (Well, the ONE thing not to like is that we only get about 15 minutes to eat it (J. during which time we normally must make strained conversation with the very nice principal, which is pretty much another English lesson) before we have to go to our next job)
3. The commute is not too bad because we have a driver who does most of the commute for us. We drive our motorbike (which I actually love doing) about 20 minutes to a school, then we have a driver to take us from that school to our morning school (another half hour), then our afternoon school (15 more minutes), and then back to the first school (15 minutes), where we take our motorbike home (20 minutes). Total, the commute is about an hour to our first school, but we don't have to be up until 8, and we can sometimes get home as early as 2, or more often 3:30.
4. J: Our new "bosses" at each school are very friendly and reasonable. They're constantly giving us snacks and coffee and water and telling us to sit down with them and relax. Often at bizarre times, like when our driver is late so we are five minutes late and come in rushing off to class. The teachers and aides are also very friendly and polite, and we have offers for guides and facebook friends. It's a very comfortable working atmosphere and we feel valued and accepted by the administration, which is a huge bonus. In a way, it's nice to be the only English teachers at a faraway school, because they appreciate that you exist at all, not to mention commute an hour each way to work for them. They have much more reasonable standards than our main boss (which is good and bad). We were prepared to make different lesson plans for each level of our high school classes, but hastily backpedaled when the principal told us "Oh, yeah, you can do one lesson plan for the whole week, that will be great!".   

CONS about our teaching schedule:

1. An obvious con is that we don't actually get to cover much in the time that we have. And it's harder to review the information the next time we see them, because they've already had a week of other classes. As I mentioned in the last post, it seems like we're more of the fun break that the kids have than the actual teacher coming in with a set curriculum.
2. Because we have two part-time jobs instead of a full-time job, we don't get many benefits. Besides not having medical insurance, we don't get paid holiday (and there are a lot this semester). We also have very few breaks as we get to the first school, teach three classes, eat a quick lunch, and then hurry off to the second school to teach.
3. J: It doesn't seem like we are expected to grade our students in any way, which is 1. bizarre 2. time-saving 3. very annoying. There is no motivation for the kids to do anything if they aren't at the very least having their papers graded or studying for some sort of test. We can only give positive reinforcement.  

So for now, we are going to enjoy this wild ride of our first job(s) in Thailand. But in the long term, we're hoping to secure a more permanent job that is closer to Chiang Mai. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Julia's Jumble of Thoughts

This entry was mostly written a week ago, but I never managed to finish it. So keep that in mind!

Thoughts on teaching. I'd say what seems like the best advice for teaching is something my Dad always says and that applies to nearly all situations: Have a plan, but above all be flexible! I can spend hours on a lesson plan and have it all fall apart in the first five minutes, so I've learned to loosen up a little and only make a very vague outline that I can adapt on the fly. This ends up being a lot less stressful both inside and outside the class.

For example, here were my lesson plans for today.
Morning: Days of the week, hello song, action game, color flashcards, color song, color game.
Afternoon: Slang, What is "famous", have kids write name of a famous person, review of yes/no questions, put name of famous person on each kid's back, have them ask yes/no questions to guess.

Previously, my lesson plans were very detailed and even included dialogue so I could be sure to explain directions clearly. But really...that was stupid. You don't know how the kids will respond at all, and it's best to just take it as it comes.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I have learned that a lesson plan I would expect to take five minutes will take half an hour. Especially with the older kids. A note on the older kids: These guys have been learning English for at least TEN YEARS. For anyone who complains about how the American school system does not prepare us at all as worldly people, deals terribly with languages, and doesn't take advantage of the critical period to impart language learning skills, I say: yes and no. I would say that after four years of high school French (and even 6 months of Hindi), my classmates and I would be more competent in those classes now than these kids are in English. After. Ten. Years. Not helping their case, every class in the afternoon comes with a Thai aide, who tends to frustratingly, but with good intentions, translate everything I say, no matter how simply I try to say it. The kids just don't have to try, and that stagnates them. I've found the same to be true in other countries. Quality over quantity. If the kids don't care, and don't immerse themselves outside of school, it just isn't going to happen. The school would be better off saving their money, buying good books and hiring good teachers, and immersing their kids in an English program only when they're older. And, oh wait, there we have the American system! So for as much flak as it gets, I think our system is really not the worst way to go about it. We certainly have a lot to learn from Europe, but don't we always?

I'll give you an idea of their level. Here's a common command I give, very slowly, and with gestures, to a classroom of 18 year old Thai students: "Please write....please write...ONE sentence...about yourself. About you. One sentence. Write one sentence...about you." After this, I will write an example on the board, because Thais thrive on examples. I try not to write too many, because then they just copy them all down and don't think of anything themselves (I have also learned to erase them almost immediately after writing them, which is greeted by horrified responses). After I do this, the Thai aide translates the instructions and examples many times. After this entire procedure, I will turn to the class and see everyone staring at me, not writing anything. At this point I will try going up to the sharper ones and, using a combination of main verbs and examples and repetition and pointing, try to get them to catch on, but they will just laugh and look confused and pretend to be busy. I will then go up to the board and write another example, and repeat the instructions in a new way, and have the Thai aide translate. After about ten minutes, 5 kids will have written something down, and it will be the example that I put on the board.

Basically, as useful as my Oxford Seminars training course was, it wasn't useful at all. To some degree, the situation is out of your hands. You're not going to be able to cover much, you're not going to be able to get them all to participate, and no matter how you simplify things sometimes they just won't understand. It's a common question in Thailand: Why, if the Thais take so many years of English in school, do Thais speak such terrible English? The answer is blaringly obvious, now! Government schools are supplied with Native English Speakers who don't really know how to teach, but try their best. In turn, the government schools allow them zero resources, save for a white board and (sometimes) white board markers. There's no way to see what the kids already know, because there are often not any books. The best we can do is try to teach them pronunciation and center lesson plans around things they may be vaguely interested in. But at the end of the day, grade 1 and grade 6 will get the same exact lesson plan, and they will do equally well with it. There is no progression at all, and the administration is really just okay with that. It's deeply frustrating and inspiring at the same time. Much of my free time is now consumed by trying to think of lesson plans that they will understand, and enjoy, and remember. I daydream about four months from now, when my students will be able to describe themselves with something other than "I am student". But then my next lesson plan bombs, but I adapt it, and by the end of the week someone learned what a "hint" was and how to properly say "what's up" and one of my students wrote "I like ice cream and I like cat" and I go to sleep excited about my lesson plan for the next week and a little less disappointed at my lack of teaching skills.

On the other hand, some of the students are great! It's strange going from being that one kid in the class who cares to being the teacher that clings to that one student. You see them sitting there, always finished early, always bored, always impatient with everyone else, and you just want to tell everyone else to go away so the passion in this one person won't die and I can teach them something. I want them to have the chance to be in the /1 classes and succeed, but of course, those are the cons of the tracking system. Anyway, a lot of the students are really cooperative and friendly and I can have full conversations with them and actually feel like me being an English speaker is useful to them. Which is great.

Also great are the little kids! My kindergarten classes are, for the most part, adorable and well behaved. It's a good morning when you come to class and are immediately hugged by 20 kindergarteners and greeted by a chorus of "Good morning khun kru [meaning teacher...we'll have to work on that one] Julia!". Thus, every morning is a good morning. They can be a little rowdy, but so far it's awesome to teach them the simple stuff and have them actually learn. As they get more used to what I want from them, things have become easier. At first some classes would just repeat literally everything I said, which made for some hilarious moments (imagine 30 four-year-olds with hand on hip all saying "You guys are so smart!" in chorus), but now they understand that sometimes they just need to listen. I'm rediscovering my love for kids as I use puppets and silly voices and all that good stuff. But three hours of teaching kids is pretty exhausting!

At this point I feel like I'm just rambling, so I'll move on. Chiang Mai traffic! Driving a motorcycle! I'd just like to mention that when I met Ariel, she was proud to say that she didn't know how to ride a bike and hadn't driven a car since getting her license over 5 years ago. A week ago, we bought our first motorbike, and now Ariel changes gears and goes on the freeway like nobody's business. You never know how things will change! Let me rephrase: When you are Ariel, you can do whatever you want to do because you are hard working and determined and accept that your fate is entirely in your hands. Let me also mention that one year ago, I sent Ariel out to get garlic and she returned five minutes later freaked out because she didn't actually know what it looked like. Today, Ariel makes Thai tea from scratch from her own recipe, makes half of our meals, and is showing an alarming amount of interest in buying a blender. The other day she wanted to buy a book about cooking a variety of things in your rice cooker. I checked her for a fever. Also, for those of you who know about Ariel and clothes, I will mention that her floor is spotless. She puts all her clothes on a shelf after wearing them. In the space of a year, and in some cases just a month, Ariel has become a domestic, badass biker chick. Watch out world. You don't even know!

Oh, I forgot to talk about Thai traffic. Right. Basically, Thais are so good at driving. I'm pretty sure they have some sort of magic Thai-adapted horn that has an effect similar to a bicycle bell. It's just a little "meep!" that says "I'm coming up behind you! Just wanted to let you know!". On a Thai highway, you can drive as slowly as you like if you stay on the left, which is nice if you're scared or just learning or just don't want to be speeding along with the cars. There are traffic lights, but you really only need follow them if someone is coming. If there's room for you to turn onto a street, go ahead and do so! There are always so many things happening on the street that everyone is watching out for them. So it's okay! Go on! This is not to say that driving is easy, by any means, but it at least makes sense and isn't as stressful as it could be.

Our little documentary-esque 3 month experiment with living on the poverty line continues to be interesting. Apparently, yes, you can survive on $30 a month. Without getting scurvy. The secret is: instant noodles, tomatoes, potatoes, rice, eggs, tofu, milk, and tuna. Surprisingly, all of these things are as expensive or more so than in America, but they get the job done. This is also where our free and delicious lunch at school really comes in handy. Also: don't do laundry, be sure to buy food at the local market, thrive on the "reduced for quick sale" items. Make tin foil-lined cardboard screens for your windows (to block out the sun) to save on air conditioning. Use everything that pumpkins have to offer. Limit toilet paper use by doing it Asian-style. Take advantage of all possible ways to make money on the internet. This is beginning to sound a little like the Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen Song. One might think that living this way would get tiresome, but surprisingly no: when you're living with your best friend, poverty can be kind of fun. There are always water drinking competitions, adventures with vegetables (pumpkin soup, pumpkin seeds, watermelon carving, the how-many-dishes-can-I-make-with-a-potato game), Harry Potter book marathons, trips to go window shopping in grocery stores...We have been fortunate enough to spend money on things that will really save us a lot of money in the long run, like our little motorbike Sparkules. We have been very blessed by free lunches at school that give us the majority of our nutrients. And hopefully, in two weeks (pay day), the experiment will be over! Luckily we have the luxury of labelling it as such.

I think we have another blog draft in the works, so I'll go ahead and wrap up this long winded one. Thanks for reading!

A Jumble of Thoughts

I wanted to get our big blog entry out there about how we spent our Halloween and how our job is going so far, but the weekend came and went and now the new school week snuck up on us. I have just found out, however, that my classes are cancelled for the rest of the morning because apparently Ovaltine has come to the school and is giving a presentation. So I decided to take this unexpected break to get some thoughts down. Also you'll have to excuse any absent-minded stream-of-consciousness writing because I just had my arguably worst worst class of the week (my first grade class B which means not my A class which means havoc and phone-stealing, crying children, shouting, running, and possibly 5 students actually trying to learn) and am thoroughly wiped out and discombobulated. Oh yes, and I'm typing this on my iPhone.

Now that we're actually creating lesson plans, there are some things I learned from the Oxford Seminars course (and from my few instances of teaching or mentoring students in the past) that I have had the opportunity to put into practice (if there is anyone from Oxford Seminars reading this, maybe this can help, though it probably mostly applies to Thailand or Southeast Asia only).

Any classroom management strategies I've read about simply don't work. They just don't. There are preliminary procedures, like establishing rules on the first day and sticking to them. Having a level system in which kids get a mark for each time they act up, which eventually results in a penalty or punishment of some sort (did anyone else have those color cards in elementary school, where they start the day at blue, and then one penalty goes to green, then orange, then red?). I can't do any "establishing" rules because for most farang (foreign) teachers, and especially for Jules and I, we entered the school year during the second semester. Additionally, we only teach every class for one hour once a week. We are just the one hour foreign teacher break the kids get, so we're not to be taken seriously. This takes some pressure off of us, but also prevents us from having any continous lesson plans, or really reviewing something we've taught them the week before. It's like we're just the P.E. class: every class takes it, but nobody really takes it seriously. Then there are rewards and punishments. I can't punish the kids because for one, I can't speak Thai, so nothing I can say to them will make sense. The best I can do is yell at them, which I don't think solves anything. Besides which, raising your voice is nothing when you are in a place that practices corporal punishment. As long as I don't have a stick in my hand, it doesn't matter. So my final plea of trying to get these first graders under control, is to just reward the good with "good job!"s and smiles and nods of approval, while I ignore the three students who are following me around trying to steal my phone and notebook. The funny thing is, outside of class, these kids love me. They run to say hi to me and give me hugs. But in class, they couldn't care less if I existed at all.

Additional things I learned from Oxford Seminars that DON'T work:
Checks for Understanding. For those that didn't take Julia and my "Learn how to teach English in 100 hours" course (and for those that aren't or haven't been a teacher), checks for understanding happen after you explain directions for the next activity. You ask the class specific questions like, "What do you do after I give you a piece of paper?" and they answer (ex: "Write your name!"), thus demonstrating that they understand what they need to do. Well, to sum up how it works here: Nope. It doesn't. The kids don't understand when you're asking a question. Besides the fact that they don't fully understand English intonations (like your voice going up at the end of a sentence to indicate a question), they just can't grasp that you want them to answer you, not repeat after you. No matter how slow, or how simply I speak, I can't get them to understand that I'm checking that they know what to do.

Some things I learned from Oxford Seminars that DO work:
Repetition. The kids in Thailand, and especially in the younger grades, are all about repeating what you say. This isn't all that great because they don't think for themselves or try to think outside the box; they will just repeat and copy whatever you say. Still, on the bright side, as a native English teacher, I can try to teach them proper pronunciation and intonation. Since Thai is a tonal language, they're all about mimicing it with the exact rhythm and ups and downs of my voice. I will say a word or sentence by pointing at myself, then get them to repeat or answer by cupping my ear.

Demonstrating conversation. When I draw a face on the board with a speech bubble and write "A" above it, then another face and write "B" (like a cartoon), the students immediately understand that this is a conversation. I'll write "A" saying, "Hello! How are you?" and "B" responds with, "I'm fine, thank you. And you?" Then I'll pair up the students and say one is "A" and the other is "B" and I'll point to the board, and they'll instantly know. I gesture that I want them to practice, and they do! It actually works great, and I can get them to have many conversations with this simple template. I can get them to think for themselves a little bit if I leave a blank too. For example, we went over emotions (happy, sad, angry, scared, tired) and then in the conversation, one of the students has to fill in the blank, "I'm _____."

As you can hopefully see, I'm learning what it's like to come in with certain goals, ideas, and activities and just seeing if they work. All of teaching is trial and error. I finally understand what it's like to hone your lesson plan and find out what works for what level until you have it down to a T. I understand how a teacher can get more and more comfortable after their first year of teaching. Of course I knew teaching was a long-term investment. Besides Kindergarteners, you can't see kids immediately learning before your eyes. The benefits that come from being a teacher involve years of work. Of course I knew that. But the long-term investment thing applies to almost every aspect of the job. Improvement in the students, improvement in my ability to teach, gaining experience, forming long-lasting relationships with staff, co-workers, and students, etc. ALL OF TEACHING is LONG-TERM.

That being said, this job is simultaneously easy and the most challenging thing for me. In some ways, I feel like I'm a natural. I can come up with a lesson plan and think of new ways to approach it on the spot when it's not working. I am easily enthusastic, I'm good at laughing at myself and letting/encouraging the students to laugh with at me (like when I accidentally use the wrong side of the eraser, and all of my third graders start laughing, I can't help but turn around and laugh with them). I'm terrible at classroom management. I don't know if that's just here in Thailand, or if I just need to get better with it. And I need to improve upon almost every lesson plan I come up with. It's fulfilling work, definitely, but it's exhausting. Most of the pressure to do well is from within. It's my goals I have for the students to learn, and if I can't get them to learn what I set out to teach them, I'm the only one who feels like I've failed.

Now that my jumbled thoughts are finally winding down, I'd like to thank you, whoever reads this blog, for letting me use it as a place to record my random thoughts and feelings. Having such a public diary can be the most embarassing thing. In 10 years, wherever I am, I may be laughing at how naive and silly I was as I reread these entries. But for now, let's laugh together. I don't want to take life too seriously. I want to enjoy it.





And one more thing, for those of you who might know more about my life, Alexi-day is coming up (November 16th). It will have been two years since my beloved best friend, Alexi Deauzat, has passed away. Let's celebrate her memory together. Eat a peppermint, wear a skeleton key necklace, listen to the White Stripes. Fill yourself with laughter, speak in a shrill voice, and every once in a while, just squeal, "eeeee!"

Much love,
Aire

Being White

This post serves three purposes:

1. To tell you that we are alive

2. To inform you that a big juicy post will be coming up shortly (I'd like to say within the week, but no promises)

3. To say how the topic of being white came up today in conversation and it reminded me of one of my all-time favorite bits from Louis C.K. Following is the conversation and then the video clip:

Jules (in talking about driving a motorbike around): How about the cops here, how bad are they?

Guy: They're not bad at all. Sometimes they have checkpoints, but all you have to do really is lift your helmet so they can see that...you're white, and they'll be like, "Okay have a great day! Have fun, you know, being white!"

I laughed. It's refreshing to openly talk about race, something that I feel isn't always tolerated--or maybe just isn't always done--in America. But in other countries, and especially for us during our travels in Southeast Asia with Julia being white and me being a mixed ambiguous race, race comes up a lot.

As I said, look forward to a long entry coming soon! For now, here's the vid: 

A Not So Lazy Sunday

J: Yesterday was very bizarre.

All we knew to expect was contained in the following text message from our boss: "Meet at [our school] at 8am. We want to show you your new school. We will be there a few hours". Knowing to expect nothing but uncertainty and variability from her, we prepared as best we could. By packing a banana. At 8am, of course there was no boss to be found, so we waited around for another 40 minutes until she popped her head in and said "Hello! Come on!" as if she had been there all along and we were the ones who had kept HER waiting. Typical. She lives next door to this branch of the school, so it's always fun to look up at her room and guess what stage of lateness she's currently in (brushing her teeth, plucking her eyebrows, doing yoga?). As we piled into the van (this van is the size of a typical minivan, but somehow seats 12 legitimately. I didn't know those existed!), we realized that we were also being accompanied by her husband, who co-runs the school with her, and her secretary (who looks to be about 18), who after supplying us with correct visa paperwork has earned our affection. Being unable to think of any reason why the two of them would need to come along, we waited patiently in hopes that this would somehow be elucidated. In the car we were given the books we may or may not be able to use, and told to decide before we arrived who would be teaching which grades for the next 6 months. Based on the very limited information we had and my current state of carsickness, that decision probably wasn't the most informed.

Upon arriving at the school, we were ushered into a big sparse room and awkwardly sort of introduced to about 6 people with unpronounceable names. There was lots of wai-ing and head nodding and blank smiles. Some sort of debate/negotiation ensued in Thai, lasting about an hour. Just as our boss was turning to us and starting to say "Oh, they say that..." everyone suddenly stood up and we, bewildered, followed them into another nearby building which appeared to be a house. There, the table was set with assorted tea time foods and fruit baskets. The owners of the school practically hand-fed us enormous kumquats and grapes and bananas until everyone broke out into what seemed like more friendly Thai banter. These situations are always strange, as its anybody's guess as to the social protocol. Are you allowed to completely zone out and pig out on delicious Thai fruits? Should you maintain eye contact as if you too were engaged in the conversation? Should you laugh when everyone else laughs as if you have any idea what's being said? Should you pretend it's normal to be in a psuedo-interview in which no one is speaking your language or asking you any questions or seems to have any interest whatsoever in your capabilities or expectations? Just as we were wondering why we were there and if our presence would ever actually be required, everyone got up again and we stood in a foyer as the owners asked us adorable things like "You are happy?". We somehow communicated that we would like to visit the school across the street, where Ariel will be working, but we were blissfully unaware of the complexities such a journey would entail. It took about ten minutes for all of the women in the party to be properly outfitted with an umbrella for the arduous journey across The Street. Once suitably shaded, we made our way over (it looked exactly like every other Thai school, and we made sure to assure them it was beautiful and magnificent and we were very excited to work there), there was more Thai discussion until it was decided we should meander back. After what seemed like endless wai-ing we returned to the safety of the mini van, delighting in the prospect of being home before noon.

But this was, of course, not the case. After getting back into the van, it became apparent why our boss's husband had come too - Lamphun, the small province south of Chiang Mai where our school is located, is renowned for its cheap furniture shops, and he was beyond elated by the prospect of visiting them all. Before yesterday, we had met this guy several times and instinctively liked him despite never having a lengthy conversation. He balances out our boss in a way that transforms her from an over-ambitious, careless manager to an absent-minded person capable of deep caring. I always like when partners do that to each other - somehow manage to better the other simply by existing and loving them so much, and not taking them so seriously. He's very blunt and witty, and in just a sentence often calms our "OMG this is so absurd why is this happening is this normal?!" mentality by pointing out the reality of the situation. During the umbrella fiasco, he made fun of the girls for not wanting to get tan and then commented "There are too many gay guys in Thailand who use umbrellas and are too girly. Me, I refuse". During tea, when our boss subtly passed him a kumquat to peel, he loudly retorted "Are you kidding?! You eat the skin." The rest of us were then free to make as many fruit-related blunders as we liked. I like that he doesn't take any social situation too seriously, and in doing so breaks up the tension for everyone involved. Anyway, so we spent the next two hours perusing furniture shops on the side of the road. I guess our boss was stoked on how cheap everything was compared to American prices, because she kept converting all the prices to dollars and exclaiming "only 30 dollars! Isn't that cheap? I bet you're thinking of an export company now!" which was bizarre to us because furniture prices is actually something we would never think to translate to dollars. That would be like freaking out because you found out you can remodel your kitchen for $200 in Mexico. It just...has no translatable value because it's not something you can actually transport. I'm not thinking of shipping a 3-piece sofa back home to my mom for Christmas just because it's $10 cheaper here.

After loading up the van with gaudy decorations, we were driven to a restaurant and told to order whatever we wanted. It's nice being in a country where debates over the bill just don't really happen, and are actually considered rude. If you're going out to dinner and you're younger, you don't pay. If you're less wealthy, you don't pay. If you're not the boss, you don't pay. Luckily, in pretty much every situation in Thailand, we won't have to pay. So, in a way we never would in America, we sat back and enjoyed our accidental free lunch. During lunch the assistant (who speaks pretty much zero English) showed us pictures of this pizza place with 20 inch pizzas, and somehow one thing led to another and by 3pm, when we finally arrived home, we had been invited to dinner 4 times.

While our day was happening, we tried to think of some sort of American comparison so you could understand how strange this situation was for us. Here goes: Imagine you live in San Francisco and have had a little tension with your boss before you even start the job - she had promised you a job and accepted all your paperwork only to hire someone else and not even call you. After implying that she has several more positions available for you and has you interview for all of them, she tells you she doesn't have any more work for you in her SF branch, but finds a place for you to work in Oakland because you guilted her into doing so. On the day you think she's taking you to Oakland to see your new place and work out the terms and expectations, she brings along her husband and assistant (who seems more like a daughter). After your meeting in which you say practically nothing, you all unexpectedly head to IKEA. After perusing for a while and trying out some beds with your boss, you wait around while she has some of the ugliest things in the store packaged for her (A: Seriously, she bought this mirror frame, bird wall decoration sculpture something, and a tiny chair and asked our opinion of it. They were the ugliest things I've ever seen. I think I replied by saying, "Well I like it better than that one over there! haha *points at random sculpture of a sun*"). After IKEA, you all head to the Cheesecake Factory, where your boss orders 8 dishes for 4 people and insists you try everything. Then you get a tour of a high school in downtown Oakland, because it turns out that's where your boss's assistant went. And then you get an invitation to Benihana's for dinner four hours later.

A: Julia with our boss trying out a race car bed (complete with speakers and massage chairs on each side). I think our boss was seriously considering buying it at one point. This is our life. And--as always--Julia's face says it all.

A: Managed to catch a quick photo of Jules with one of our provided parasols as we walked about 200 meters from one school to the other. Tan is bad.

This is how far the school is from our apartment. Dayum, son.

A: As we waddled home, inexplicably car sick and desperate for more sleep, we decided to keep the dinner invitation open and respond after naps. Three hours later, I woke up and spent about five minutes composing  a text that eventually said, "We're still full from lunch! What time is dinner again? :)" (It took a long time to decide whether to include that smiley face and to be honest I wasn't even sure if she knew what that was as she responded with, "At 7. We meet at [insert school here]. Then we eat at 7:30.") But with my, "We'd love to go!" response, we headed out to have dinner with our boss. To our surprise, this dinner turned out to be with the whole fambam--our boss, her husband, the secretary, her brother, his son and daughter, and even her Bible studies teacher. We barely talked with our boss and instead ended up conversing with her Bible studies teacher and her brother most of the time. But at the end of the meal, she turned to us and with what seemed like a genuine smile said, "I'm glad you came." At this point I realized she had probably decided to take us under her wing. From the very beginning, she's talked about how young we are and how we're the same age as her son who is currently studying in America. And spending a whole day with her and even being invited to dinner with the family? Come on. That's like boyfriend/girlfriend induction into the family status.

I'd also like to insert a random observation in here: The way Thai people ask questions is with the subject first. So instead of saying, "Do you like the school?" they would say "You like the school?" This would be okay except that they don't quite have the correct intonations relating to English punctuation, since all of Thai is tonal. So it ends up sounding like a statement. On top of that, Thai has no tenses. Taught/teach/teaching/etc. is virtually the same word in Thai. You can imagine this leads to many awkward situations or micommunications, like when the owner of the school turned to me and said, "You are happy" and I just nodded and smiled until my boss clarified he meant, "Are you happy/satisfied with our school?" Or even better, when the assistant principal, who was about to talk about all the challenges that come with teaching 3-to 5-year-olds, said to Julia "You teach kindergarten" and with Julia's nod, the lady quickly responded with, "Good then this will be no problem." And it wasn't until a few seconds later that we realized she was asking if Julia had any experience teaching Kindegarteners before as opposed to asking if Julia was the one who will be taking over the Kindergarten class. When I'm typing it out like this, it sounds like something we should be able to easily pick up. But trust me, when you're in the situation and grasping onto any bit of broken English that you might be able to understand and respond to, the whole asking a question by saying a statement thing gets quite befuddling.

J: I'm still confused about how we went from being on tense terms with our boss and grasping at straws for a job at her school to spending the entire day together and being inundated with requests to work at her such and such school or help with his such and such program. I can only hope that they saw some shining bit of promise in us, and not that this entire process has been completely random and spontaneous. Who knows, maybe the next time we see her we won't have a job. Or even worse, no free meals.