Thank you, Michael.

I don't know what this little girl is doing, but the spirit obviously moves her. God Bless.

The Weekend in Pictures part II

Flowers for the gods: Us. It's Wai Kru, a Buddhist holiday that give praise to teachers. The kids, otherwise indifferent to teachers any other day, were laying these flowers at our feet and kneeling with a strange reverence that made me slightly uncomfortable. The students made all of these flower arrangements so, I found that really nice that they put so much thought in the occasion.


Outside the strange Dutch (or German?) restaurant Bann Nam Kieng Din "House beside a river" is the literal translation, according to Tip. This her favorite restaurant. For someone to get to know her, they have to get to know this restaurant. It was an especially confusing experience to say the least. There's a windmill outside, but the waiting staff is wearing Bavarian inspired costumes. Milk maids and lederhosen. Inside there are ponds with ducks, and small bunny islands. . .


The Milkmaids hanging out.




Tip and her best friend Git deciding what to order. All of the seating of this restaurant is outside.
In the event of rain, there's giant umbrellas for each table.


Bunny Island!



Me and Git at dusk

Maria dancing with Pak at Bo's after dinner discotheque

Digital cameras are our major source of entertainment at parties

Excess Baggage

Whenever I go out, this is what I carry with me. Inside a 1'x2' plaid tote from Target, I carry the following items.
-That red wallet on the side of the picture.
-A full 600ml bottle of water
-2 kinds of bug repellent, one spray, one lotion.
-an umbrella
-my mobile
-an extra pair of flip flops
-a hairbrush with clips
-2 notebooks, one small, one large
-a map of Bangkok
-my MP3 player
-some toilet paper
- a paper back "Around the World in 80 dates"
-trial size deodorant
-trial size sunscreen, SPF 50, water and sweat proof
-my passport
-my house keys
-a tube of hydrocortizone cream
-Neutrogena lip balm
- a Thai phrasebook


Everyone I come into contact with says that the bags I carry are massive. They also ask, "Do you really need everything that's in there?" And I reply, "Of course I do!" What if it's sunny, I'll need more block, what if the mosquitos are out, I'll need protection. What if I'm bored? I'll need something to read. What if I need to write a poem? I'll need pen and paper, not just any pen and paper, my SPECIAL notebook! And this comes off as weird to some people. They try lifting my bag to prove their point. Of course they struggle, but I think it's just added dramatic effect.

"How can you carry all of this extra weight? That's got to be at least 15 pounds!"

I don't think about it. I might be throwing my spine out of alignment, but at least I'm prepared. Until one day when I came home from a long day out and about and eased my bag onto my bed. My shoulder was sore, my neck was strained, and I was exhausted. The unfortunate thing was that I'd gotten a massage that day. . . only to ruin it with creating all new tension throughout my upper body. What a waste of valuable baht.

So I made the decision, on Saturday, I would pack lighter. But first, I had to ask myself what I was so afraid of that I would bring half of my possessions with me. I'm still new to this city in many ways and I'm afraid I'll be caught in a predicament. But what would be so horrible that I could justify bringing an extra pair of shoes with me? My familiar possessions were helping me cope with new experience of hacking it alone in Bangkok. Only they weren't, they were actually hindering my experience, by keeping me bogged down; physically and mentally.

I started with a new bag. I would have enabled myself if I continued to carry my tote bag, believing I could carry only half of my stuff. In my mind, purses are like Trick or Treat pillowcases, they're meant to be filled to the brim. The bag I chose was a bag I was hustled into buying on the street by a young woman who gave me a discount "because I speak good Thai." I had planned to mail it home, but I gave it second thought. It was challengingly small. There's no way, even if I were in familiar Normal, Illinois, I would carry a bag that small.

Way to be ballsy!



In the new bag, I carried:
-A map of Bangkok
-a small notebook
-my passport
-my mobile
-an ink pen
-my credit card
-some baht
-my house keys
- my camera (of course, you can't see it at the moment.)

Keep in mind that some of these items like my money, keys, and mobile were in my pants pocket. This was just in case, someone snatched my tiny purse, making a quick getaway because the damn thing's so light. I'd at least be left with my money, a way to get back into my home, and a way to call Noah and sob about how the fates have cursed my purse choices. I would sacrifice my books, I never get to read them while traveling anyway. I sacrificed all of my toiletries and trusted where ever I was heading would have toilet paper, and an insignificant amount of mosquitoes. I had to trust that nothing would happen to the shoes I was wearing on my feet. If I got sweaty, I would have to trust that I wouldn't be the only person in the city of Bangkok that smelled a little funky. I had to trust that my life wasn't going to fall apart in a day's trip around the city.

Leaving the house was a hardship. I stopped at the doorway and thought about what I was doing. Was this smart? Was I being reckless? I felt a little too naked and little too light. As I finally pulled myself way from my room, walked down the stairs and out the front door, I told myself that this was it!

How did it go?

I sat in a McDonalds eating french fries when I had a startling realization. I'm not a backpacking tourist. I've got more permanence in Thailand than I think I do. It's okay to be on familiar terms with the city. I suddenly felt a tremendous sense of pride of my ability to keep myself alive on so few items! My items weren't going to get me to and from taxis and subways, it would be my instinct and my street smarts. I now trust that I'll be fine traveling lighter.

Dear Miss Susannah Roderick

How are you? I hope you're well,
remaining active and stress-free.
I'm doing rather well, trying my
best to get some rest.

You, at one time, were inquiring about
elephants.
You wanted to know if I'd seen any.
It turns out I did.
I neglected to take a picture, you'll just
have to take my word.

I forgot
that on my disappointing
Saturday excursion to Pattaya, I spotted
a man riding an elephant on the side of road.
Since I was the only American in the car,
I was the only one that was excited.

Do know that the next time I see an elephant
I will tell it to stand still long enough for
a picture.
I could have fooled you
and just found a picture on the internet.
Copy and paste.
But you deserve better.

So don't think that I've forgotten,
still on a mission.
As always, peace and much love,
I shall write again in the future.
You're welcome to write me whenever
you've the time.

Love Charish

Thailand, Chan rak teu

When he told her he loved her,
She knew it was coming
but she cried anyway.
The sisters looked at her, concerned
she pointed to her food
"Too spicy."
They shook their heads.
Poor farang girl
If he said it any other day
she'd quickly say it back
and with a laugh
She didn't need to tell him
this wasn't that day.

Kanokwan looks suspiciously at our wedding photo that sits on my desk. He lingers and talks about beautiful weather, begs for a study guide for the next "examination--- I told him I didn't have a study guide because I haven't even planned a test yet. He looks at the photo again and I expect a major fall out. "Teacher! I thought you were single, alone, unwed. You lying harlot!" He doesn't know what a harlot is. He gropes for words and is slightly lost. I watch him watch you--- you smiling, you drinking coffee, you with an arm slung around me . . . It was obviously too soon for personal photos on the desk or not soon enough? "Your husband?" I nod cautiously. He points and asks if we are Roman Catholic. Surprising. I tell him "kinda". Okay, I must go, he tells me. Have a good day, teacher, it was nice to meet you. Kanokwan "meets" me nearly everyday and I correct him nearly everday with "It's nice to see you." I stop holding my breath.

While I listen to my sobbing
friend talk about lost love,
my initial thought was:
It's getting late and I
must get home.
She had not found her soul
mate and it effected us all
Soul mate?
Do they still make those?
We fall "in love" a million times,
I said with conviction,
then the other person falls right out.
That was crass.
What I wanted to say,
but I was sleepy,
was that he's out there!
There's someone for everyone!
This one just wasn't for you.
I'm usually better than this, but
Soul mates?
Only through divine intervention,
pure coincidence, or tragic irony do we
find these allusive soul mates.
And when we do,
we know that our paths were
destined to overlap
we are certain that our shopping
for produce together is not only
lovely but necessary
we know that we're pieces that fit---
shit, we're not sanded to the point where
we don't cause friction when
rubbed
the wrong way---
but we fit comfortably
I could have told my
distraught friend all of this
but I was having an off day. . .
and I was content with the idea
of already finding my own
soul mate

You can find Army underwear at the market!

Beautiful sunset on the river.















Brilliant child performing on the street.















Dave and I found the small bar called Viva's. Finally.















Military undies!
















Owl handbags!

A Miscommunicated Saturday

On the road to Pattaya.





When I was asked if I wanted to go to beach destination, Pattaya, this weekend, I was stoked. Finally, to get out of the city limits of Bangkok and see some lush greenery, sandy beaches, some ocean!

Nut, my badminton friend invited me, informing me that his brother and friend were going to Pattaya to spend some time on the beach and play volleyball. I swear that's what he said, or at least that's what I heard. I felt like he said, "Please come with us to play beach volleyball." I jumped on it for that reason. How serious of a game could it be if I'm going to wear a bikini and read a book when I get tired.

mmh.

As we set out on Saturday afternoon, I was feeling hopeful. Nut and his brother Gah, and their friend Noom picked me up at the school where I work and we set out on the road. As soon as I got in the car, Nut began his ritual of feeding me. "Here, have some Thai fruit." "Here, have roasted pork." "Here, please take some of this watermelon." I eat and I eat because I have a hard time refusing him and he's just so nice about it.

As he drove, I ate, Noom slept, and Gah was being his usual moody self. I quickly found that the Thai attitude of driving in the city was the same on the interstate. I didn't want to be a backseat driver, but Nut was making some driving errors that frightened me a little. For instance, to bypass a traffic jam, Nut thought nothing of driving on a road that was still being constructed. We jumped back into traffic, like it was nothing. While Nut was peeling fruit and talking on the phone, he missed his turn and made a reckless U turn into oncoming traffic. No one was more alarmed than I.

After two hours and dozens of traffic infractions, we made it to Pattaya, a city Noah describes as trying to remake it's images as a place where "you can bring the family." I could see how it was doing that. There was a lot of shopping one could do on the street, plenty of food vendors, and I even saw some children. However, nothing could really cover up the fact that Thai women were patrolling the beaches looking for Western men. But no worries, every one's gotta work! I just want to see the water. And I did, for a few moments as we drove by.

"We're here!" I cried from the backseat. "Yay! Let's park and get out!"

But we weren't there yet. According to Nut, we still had a little ways to go. Oh, I figured, perhaps we were headed to a more private, more Thai beach where there weren't Italian men walking around in speedos. Okay, that's cool, I can wait. We drove and we drove and we drove some more until we got to place that wasn't beachy at all. We pull off the road and into a park. A bleeding park! That was in the woods!

When we rolled up to the volleyball courts, my heart sank to my feet. Where are we? I wondered, who are all of these men playing volleyball so seriously? It turned out that all of those men, there about fifteen in all, were friends of Nut's who took the sport so seriously, there was diving in the dirt. Dirt, not sand. There was jumping six feet in the air and dominating the net with earth shattering spikes. I was so unprepared.

"I don't have the right clothes to play volleyball," I admitted to Nut.

"I told you we play volleyball, yes?"

"On the beach," I clarified.

"We visit beach later," he saw that I looked heartbroken and patted me on the arm. "It's okay, I have shorts and shoes in my truck. It was greatly appreciated, considering all I had brought with me was a bathing suit (which I was already wearing under a flowy tunic and a pair of jeans. My footwear? Flip flops.

This is what I ended up looking like:


When the men saw me, I knew immediately that although they would be polite enough, I was going to cramp their style. I was quickly introduced. "Hi my name is Gra-tai!" It turned out that there was another Gra-tai in the group. I found a man named bunny was quite entertaining. I also found out later, that there would be a good reason for this.

So they let me play and I played poorly. It had been a long time since I'd played volleyball. Maybe since high school. Even then, boys would bogart the games in gym class. Sooner than later, I was asked by one of the players to sit the next couple of games out. I knew what meant. So I warmed the bench indefinitely. As I watched the games unfold without me in them, I noticed something interesting about "Other Gra-tai" and his pals. They were all definitely gay. I'd don't know the Thai translation for: "You go girl!" but I have a feeling that was said a lot. There was a lot of loose wrist high fives and bum slapping as well. The latter you can find in a super macho sport actually. But the guys were lovely all the same. I asked them if they could pose for a picture for the blog and like most gay men, they complained of not looking cute enough or they shoved at one another to be caught on camera.


After sitting on the sidelines and looking bored, Nut decided it was best for his bother Gah to take me to the beach. By then it was night time and I was very uninterested in seeing the beach. I took my wallet with me, forgot my camera, which was a bummer, and followed Gah to the touristy part of Pattaya. I literally got my feet wet for about five minutes.

Sigh. The day ended with us going to dinner after a rousing few games. There, Nut ordered food for me and forced me to eat curry covered crabs. I was a willing participant, but I was getting tired and definitely ready to go home. On our way home, I fell asleep, but woke sometime to see that we'd taken a pit-stop for Nut to buy more fruit at the market.

"Are you asleep?" he asked me.

"Not now, no. I'm awake."

"Here, have some Sirisiak pineapple. It is very good." I had to refuse him on the grounds that I was terribly full and that I wasn't a little German girl named Gretel and I didn't have brother who was already thrown into a pot. Even when he dropped me off at my front door, he put a container of sticky rice and mango into my hands. "Put this in your refrigerator, eat later, it is very delicious."

I cringed inwardly and took, thanking him the entire time. Pattaya was a bit disappointing, but if I look at it in a different light I'll see that it wasn't all that bad. I didn't spend any money on unnecessary purchases and I came home with another great memory about my awkward game with the guys. Postcards and seashells can't beat that.