Missing my International Driver License and keen to have another blog-worthy adventure, I headed down to the Thong Lor Satahnii Tamruat (Police Station).  Located way down Sukhumvit Soi 55, two Skytrain stations away, it took me about thirty minutes to get there.  I informed Tawn and my tutor of my whereabouts, so they could alert the newspapers if this farang driver was incarcerated or never heard from again. 

After quite a bit of walking – the station is much further down from the Skytrain station than I thought – I finally arrived at a squat, concrete building with a few lush trees under which a few dozen officers lounged in the shade, in front.  Thai police stations are not the epitome of modern design, nor of up-to-date interiors.  Straight out of the 60s, everything was a shade of formica, mostly dingy grey.  The only sign with an English translation was the one on the outside that said “Fines” and showed an arrow pointing indoors.

Inside, a few people were sitting around in handcuffs; another group of three were speaking with an officer.  A row of six desks, arranged to suggest a counter, were occupied by six officers all of whom appeared deeply engaged in their work.  Finally, a woman working the endmost desk finished looking at her phone and then motioned to me to come over.

My tutor suggested that I should try speaking some Thai with them, so I made the attempt.  It worked pretty well, I suppose.  The first officer looked at my ticket, then went to speak with another officer, then lead me over to another counter across the room where two matronly policewomen chatted.  There are plenty of women on the Thai police force, it seems, all located at desk jobs in the station.

The process was pretty straight forward: she retrieved a stack of driver licenses from a drawer and located mine.  She took my 400 baht and filled out a receipt.  She made small talk with me, asking me various questions such as where did I come from, how long had I been in Thailand, did I like Thailand, did I like Thai girls – to which I did my best to answer in Thai, although sometimes I would feign ignorance with some of the more pointed questions.

The most pointed of which was, “so you’re working in Thailand?”  Of course, I don’t have a work visa nor a work permit, so the correct answer is, “no.”

The almost as pointed questions was, “so you like Thai girls?” to which I responded, in Thai, “Oh, I like all Thai people; they have such good hearts.”  (A particular expression in Thai, jai dii, literally means “good heart.”)

Within five minutes our business was concluded and the officer practiced her English with a farewell greeting, “See… you… again,” to which I responded, “Let’s hope not.”

Not wanting to walk all the way back, I decided to try a form of transportation I have not yet tried: the motorcycle taxi or rot motosai.  At the mouth of each soi and at strategic points along the ways (large sub-soi, busy office buildings) there are gangs of motorcycle taxi drivers, distinguished by their Bangkok Metropolitan Authority-issued orange vest.  They wait turns to shuttle passengers on the back of their small motorbikes (scooters, usually) to and from key points along the soi. 

The routes are largely fixed, I can go up and down the soi and to sub-soi along the way, but cannot cross to the other side of Sukhumvit, for example.  Prices depend on distance and are usually fixed at 10-20 baht one way.

The danger of riding motorcycle taxis is difficult to exaggerate:

For each trip they make, there is a different center of gravity depending on the size of the passenger; they weave between cars and oncoming traffic; and the mandatory helmet that is provided (usually in a basket on the front of the motosai) is either too small or is so flimsy it would offer no protection.  So you sit on the back, one hand clutching your bag, the other clutching the handle at the back of the seat: two minutes of adrenaline as you make your way to the Skytrain station where you are deposited, hopefully in one piece.  You pay your baht and then walk away, heart still beating fast.

Pity the poor women in skirts and dresses who have to ride sidesaddle!

Wednesday, Tod joined me for the second time to teach down at the school in Bangkhonthii.  This is good not only because the students like him (heard last week: Phom khittung khruu Kobfa – “I miss Teacher Tod.”) and he provides helpful translations when I’m explaining more complex concepts, but also because he’s just a pleasant person to have with you on an adventure.  This week had a few adventures, mostly of the “Wild Animal Kingdom” variety.

Right: A student leads a game of Bingo, writing words on the board for everyone to read.

The electricity is back on and the fans are working in Bangkhonthii.  The number of functioning dry erase markers is on a precipitous decline so a trip to the office supply store to supplement their ranks will be necessary before next week.  The older children completed their “All About Me” project, which has lasted a few weeks.  The end result: a bulletin board full of mini-resumes with full-colour pictures, names, ages, and favourite fruits, animals, colours, and body parts. 

The younger children were admiring the board after school, asking when they would get to do the same project.  “In a few weeks,” I said, adding to myself, “when you learn what the words “animal,” “fruit,” and “colour” mean!”

Left: Admiring the “All About Me” project done by the older students (grades 4-6 combined), the younger students (grades 1-3 combined) ask when they will be able to do the project, too.

There are usually one or two dogs from the nearby houses who hang around the school.  They are friendly and generally patient with the tremendous abuse suffered on them by the students, especially the boys.  Today there were another half-dozen dogs there with non-stop turf wars, growling, barking, and since at least some of the dogs were in heat, pro-creating.

Warning: This next part gets a bit graphic; delicate readers may choose to skip it.

While working in groups – Tod worked with half of the students, I took the other half to sit on the porch and review sentence grammar – one of the male dogs came up and sniffed around.  One student was petting him, and the other students became quite talkative when they noticed the dog’s prominently erect penis, which seemed to be dripping blood.  Nice.  Some students thought this was quite intersting; others scooted away trying to get as far from the dog as possilbe.  I tried to shoo the dog away so we could get focused.

Later in the afternoon, the students having way too much restless energy, we went out to the playground.  One of my favourite games – it burns up energy very effectively – is to draw pictures of different fruits using sidewalk chalk, with their names written in English – then have races where participants from three teams run across the playground to locate the fruit whose name I’ve called out. 

When this proved to be lopsided in favour of one team, I changed the game and had all the boys work in one group and girls in another.  Then we had the individual groups run from fruit to fruit, Tod and I trying to coordinate so their paths didn’t cross.  It is funny to watch the herd behavior: if one person who is regarded as a leader starts to head in one direction – even if it is wrong.  When it is determined that this person is wrong everyone else will turn towards the next presumed leader, following like a flock of birds.

More graphic material

While we were out there, the pack of dogs wandered up and the drippy male dog proceeded to mount one of the female dogs who usually stays around the school and have sex.  This was like some National Geogrpahic episode, except we were right there as were two dozen screaming, yelling, “eeew-ing” Thai children.  I and another teacher tried to clear them out, coitus interruptus being an appropriate response to recess interuptus.  

The attention of the students was easily redirected when I told them to go back to the classroom so we could play bingo.  “Biiiiiiinnnnnggggooooo!” and they’re off. 

More Photos

A day at Bangkhonthii School isn’t complete without taking photos.  The teachers regularly are snapping pictures – in fact, I should get the digital files for some of them as there are few pictures I’ve posted of me teaching – and of course I carry my camera to capture whatever interesting moments occur.  The students are such hams, though, that they are excited anytime they can get photographed.

Clockwise from top left: Tod helps the children play Bingo – “Does everyone see “chin” on their card?”  Afternoon session of badminton among the older girls, using a rope tied to the flag pole as a net.  A “bright” student.  Younger children make rabbit ears after class is over.

Also on Wednesday, Ajarn Yai plied as much of a guilt trip as she could on me, since I had failed to show up on Monday for a major community event.  She told Tod how many parents, monks, and other important people had showed up, looking forward to meeting me.  For my part, I brought a large basket of expensive imported Washington apples and California oranges for her and the other teachers.  Tawn assures me that Thais have short memories on things like this.

First, let me clarify: there is no sign anywhere near my apartment indicating that right turns are illegal during commute hours.

So when I was trying to make a right turn into my apartment on Tuesday afternoon at about 3:30, I was suprised when a khon tamruat (police officer) pulled up along side me, shook his head, and indicated that I should continue driving onwards.

Confused, since I and hundreds of others of people make that turn all the time, I assumed he just didn’t want me blocking traffic there.  So I drove further down the road.  Considering my options for making a U-turn, the closest location with a dedicated u-turn was about 1.5 km down the road (about 1 mile) – through heavy traffic and two major intersections.

This didn’t make a lot of sense to me, so about 200 meters down the road I saw a break in the oncoming traffic so made a right turn into the Q House office complex.  Upon later research, there is a small sign on the left-hand side of the road nearby indicating no right turns during rush hours.

The police officer, keeping an eye on me, drove down to the parking lot and pulled me over.  In his limited English, he told me that there was a sign saying no right turn.  So I asked where I was supposed to make a U-turn if I couldn’t turn right.  “There’s a sign.  No turn,” was his response.

The normal practice when you’re pulled over by a low-paid police officer is to give him your “Thailand Driver License” – a 100-baht bill folded and discreetly placed behind your regular driver’s license.  Since I’d like Thailand to make it to the rank of first world nations one of these years, I’ve decided that I’m not going to support that practice.  So I gave him my International Driver’s License (available for $10 at the American Automobile Association, $15 non-members) and my California Driver’s License.  He didn’t seem interested in the California license so took the IDL instead.

He asked me whether I read Thai (I said no – speaking English the whole time) and then wrote me a 400-baht ticket, explaining (kind of) that I had to go to the Thong Lor police station to pay the fine and retrieve my license.

So I have had my first experience being pulled over.  I’ll go to the police station today or tomorrow and retrieve my license and report on that experience.  I’m going to demand a signed and dated receipt for my fine, though.  Not going to pay money into the deep pockets of the police chief.

Aida

Date: Tue 12 and Wed 13 September, 2006
Performed by: National Opera House of Belarus
Composer: Guiseppe Verdi
Conductor: Andrei Galanov

One of Guiseppe Verdi’s most famous operas, Aida is based on the French prose of Camille du Locle, with a scenario by Auguste Mariette. This opera in four acts has a libretto by Antonio Ghislanzoni. The opera first premiered at the Cairo Opera House, on 24 December, 1871 and was born of the desire of the Khedive of Egypt for an opera that echoed Egypt’s ancient past.

Today, Monday, I was invited to take a trip out to the school in Bangkhonthii for a special event that they were having.  A senior monk was coming to the school to instruct the students on the Dharma, or teachings of Buddhism. 

The ajarn yai (Principal) thought this would be very interesting for me and told me I should come out to see it.  I told her that I would make a point of being there.  The last time we spoke about it was two weeks ago, as she wasn’t there last week when I was teaching.

Last night as I was going to bed, I had my alarm set early so I could drive down to Bangkhonthii.  But I was feeling like the amount of work on my plate was too much to justify being down there twice this week.  When I went to bed, I made a note that I’d send ajarn yai a text message in the morning letting her know I wouldn’t make it.

Of course, come this morning I forgot about sending the text message.  Actually, honestly, I did remember but chose not to send it at 7:00.  By the time I remembered again, about 8:30, I figured that school was already getting underway so it was too late to bother sending the message.  At the back of my head, something told me that I probably should go ahead and send it, but I dismissed that voice.

About 10:30 I received a call from ajarn yai, wondering where I was.  If I understood her correctly, and perhaps I didn’t as her English is about as good as my Thai, but they had been waiting for me!  Yikes!

I apologized and said I would not be making it because of the work I had and assured her I would be there to teach on Wednesday.  Her response was a very Thai, “oh, mai pen rai” (“not a problem”) but it didn’t sound like that was exactly what she was thinking.

So now I feel bad that I didn’t let her know if advance.  Hopefully they weren’t literally waiting for me… that would do wonders to create a bad impression.  We’ll see on Wednesday.  Perhaps Emily Post has a suggestion for how I should handle the situation now?  Flowers?  Cookies?

Another extraordinarily busy weekend centered around the plans for a surprise birthday party for Tawn, scheduled for Sunday evening.  You know how these types of events become all-consuming, making them even more difficult to keep hidden from the guest of honor.

Last weekend we had dinner with a group of Tawn’s friends at Basillico on Sukhumvit Soi 33, and Tawn mentioned his upcoming birthday.  Since one of that group of friends is having her wedding in Phuket the weekend of Tawn’s birthday, it seemed that we would not have an opportunity to celebrate until the week afterwards.

While Tawn went outside to help Pim’s husband with a mechanical issue on his car (moral support, not technical), I proposed to Tawn’s friends that we have a surprise party for him this Sunday evening.  Everyone agreed, and Dao offered to help me with the logistics.  Since she works the next building over from our apartment, we met on Monday afternoon at Starbucks to hammer out the details.

As all the arrangements came together – invitations, reservations, cake – the one piece that was missing was the reason to get Tawn to the restaurant on Sunday evening.  This was compounded by a number of factors:

• Tawn had visited his parents the day before and felt like he was coming down with the cold that they both had;
• We had a farewell lunch Sunday afternoon at The Deck for Detlev, Markus’ cousin who had been visiting for three weeks; and
• We’ve been eating out a lot recently, so another trip to a nice restaurant would seem excessive.

Trying to figure out what was the least likely way to raise suspiciouns while getting Tawn to Pan Pan restaurant, I text messaged Tod and asked him to call Tawn Sunday morning and suggest dinner.  It was still on the edge since Tawn was feeling under the weather, but when he asked if I thought we should go, I insisted it would be fun.

We returned home about 3:30 Sunday afternoon after a long, liesurely lunch at The Deck, overlooking Wat Arun on the banks of the Chao Praya River.  Tawn took a nap and then, at my suggestion, did a half hour of yoga to help stimulate his immune system and help him get over his cold.

At about 6:50 Tawn called out from the shower and asked me to call Tod to confirm which location of the restaurant we were meeting at.  The timing was good because everyone was told to be at the restaurant by 7:00 and I asked Tod to suggest 7:30 as a dinner time so we’d arrive after everyone was there.  So I placed a faux call to Tod, pretending to have a conversation with him.

“Yes, oh you’re already nearby?  Yeah, I think we could get there earlier…. hang on… Tawn, Tod’s already near the restaurant, do you think we could make it there a bit earlier?  Yes?  Okay…”

So we arrived at the restaurant at about 7:15 and Tawn walked upstairs to the second floor and saw Markus and Tam and then saw they were sitting at a large table with most of his other friends.  Shock.  Surprise.  Then, “I didn’t dress appropriately for this occassion!”

Pictures from the event:

From left to right: Dao, Sa, Job, Pim, Arm, Pune, Tawn, Tod, Tam, Markus, David, Jack, Ble, Eddy, and Ja (barely in the picture)

From left to right: David, Jack, Chris, and Tawn as Tawn blows out his candles.  Tawn, Ble, and Eddy with a nice candle holder.  Tawn, Sa and Job – they are getting married in December.  Jack and Tawn laugh at what Tawn first thought was an oven mit, but turns out to be a body scrub glove. 

Chris, Tawn, Markus, Pune and Tam with their birthday gift to Tawn, a handmade vase from one of their friend’s shops at Jatujak Market.

When we arrived home, the first birthday card of the year was waiting, one from my parents.

Happy birthday Tawn!

In my first few months living here, I drew the conclusion that Khrungthep did not have much of an arts scene.  Now with nearly a year’s experience, I have erased and redrawn a different conclusion: there is a notable arts scene, although it is less supported and accessible to locals than it could be.

One of the showcase events is the month-long Bangkok International Festival of Dance and Music, now in its eighth year.  This year in celebration of the King’s 60th Anniversary on the Throne, part of the festival was held in June.  There are a few dozen different events, five of which we will attend:

The Nutcracker

Date: Sat 9 and Sun 10 September, 2006
Performed by: Belarussian National Ballet Theatre

We arrived for our first in a series of events at this year’s Bangkok International Festival of Dance and Music, excited to see a full audience composed of an unusually high number of Thais and – particularly impressive – ten to fifteen percent of them were children!  Mostly young girls, along with some boys, I was very happy that the event was not only receiving more support from the local population but that they are exposing their children to the performing arts.

Without a doubt, the girls were all ballet students: some were dressed up in outfits perhaps chosen for their “princess and fairy tale” theme; others pirouetted and jetéed about.

Also adding to the evening’s excitement was the presence of Her Royal Highness, Princess Galyani Vadhana Krom Luang Naradhiwas Rajnagarindra.  The Princess, the King’s older sister, is in her early eighties and has long been the designated patron of the classical arts.  A box was set aside for her at the front-center of the first balcony, a lovely chair with a side table and individual trash can placed a lonely distance away from everyone else on a red-carpetted, raised dais.

Shortly before the performance commenced, the audience stood and the Princess’ royal anthem was played.  She was escorted in and at the conclusion of the anthem, was seated.  At the conlcusion of the show – although not also at the interval as I had expected – the King’s anthem was played, followed by the Princess’ as she made her way out of the building.

And the show, the show, the show… it was really fantastic.  The Belarussian National Ballet and the Belarus Opera Symphony Orchestra are both world-class.  The choreography was beautifully creative and the audience was enraptured, most of all the young boys and girls in attendance.

We look forward to the continuation of the series this Wednesday. 

Aida

Date: Tue 12 and Wed 13 September, 2006
Performed by: National Opera House of Belarus

Inaki Urlezaga Tango Group, Argentina

Date: Friday 29 September, 2006

Ramayana by Kalakshetra Theatre, India

Date: Sun 1 October, 2006

Carmen

Date: Fri 6 and Sat 7 October, 2006
Performed By: Aida Gomez Flamenco Ballet, Spain

Friday night in the Big Mango.  Paul is in town, visiting from San Francisco.  I’ve been meaning to introduce him to Markus and Tam, figuring that if Paul enjoyed meeting Bruce and Howie, he’ll enjoy Markus and Tam just as much – similar dynamics, you know.  His girlfriend Aori, whose birthday we celebrated on Monday night, was out with friends so Paul came alone.

So Markus kindly agreed to host if I’d agree to cook, and I’m always willing to go play in someone else’s kitchen, even if their kitchen is no larger than the tiny cramped one I have.  It is all about organization, right?

The menu for dinner – thanks to Tawn and Tam for helping – was light and we were able to eat by about 8:30 or so:

• Apperitifs of Skyy Vodka Cape Cods
• Appetizers of freshly-made humus with pita bread dippers, and pan fried paneer cheese with fresh thyme
• A main course of fusilli pasta with a ragout of Italian sausage, shitake mushroom, and spinach, accompanied by two bottles of Trivento 2004 Shiraz/Malbec blend
• Dessert of fresh fruit and a selection of cheeses
• Digestif of Sandeman’s Port to follow

It was a lot of fun and we visited until late in the evening with Markus and Tam, Paul, Pune, and Detlev. 

Received news that Ken from Chicago, the first of several people who have contacted me for information about moving to the Big Mango for their boyfriends/partners/friends, or just because they want to move there, will be making the move on September 26th.

Very exciting.  Maybe he and his partner can become part of these dinner parties.

This news snippet reports in Air Transport World’s webiste: www.atwonline.com:

Nok Air of Thailand will cancel 30 flights on Sept. 28 to avoid the expected chaos surrounding the opening of Bangkok’s new Suvarnabhumi Airport.

Remind me not to fly on September 28th or for several weeks afterwards!

I left a little early for school, travelling solo this week since Tod was swamped with a translation project, and arrived early enough to watch the entire pre-study ritual.  Of course, my presence with a camera was hugely distracting.  A discreet ethnographer I’m not!  But I made every effort to be unobtrusive as I shot some footage showing what a typical country school morning looks like.

Wednesdays are scouting day so everyone is in their Boy Scout and Girl Scout uniforms.  The pre-class ritual is mostly student-led with the older students taking turns preparing for and then running individual sections.  We begin with the raising of the flag and the singing of the national anthem.

This is followed by prayers for the Monarchy, the Kingdom, and the People.  Everyone is then seated to listed to a brief lesson, delivered by one of the older students, on Thai values, manners, or customs.  This is where restlessness sets in.  Left: Pre-schoolers wearing their school-specific smocks, making clean-up easier!

The principal or another teacher then makes announcements and admonishes the students about whatever recent behavior is worthy of a lecture.  In this case it was students failing to exhibit proper politeness to their English teacher (me).  More on that later.  Right: Khruu Somchai lectures the children.

Left: Bored and restless, one of the school’s mascots walks through for some attention. 

Finally, it is time to stand again for a little exercise.  There is a routine of movements, based on Thai kickboxing, that all the students go through more or less in unison.  Right: Kickboxing as part of the morning exercise ritual.

Having burnt off a little energy, the youngest students – pre-school age – go to their classroom and the students in the first through six grades go to the porch area to sit and do some Buddhist chanting.  I’m not clear how any Muslim students would be handled.  Presumably they would be allowed not to participate.

As that concludes, having taken about thirty minutes, there is still a half-hour or so before classes begin.  Students have various chores and tasks they are assigned around the school: they work in pairs or small groups to sweep, clean, and tidy up.There is a certain “pride in ownership” because this is their school, in their community.  In some cases, literally next to their homes.

Video of the morning rituals:

Left: Chris and the four teachers.  The Ajarn Yai (Principal) is away at conferences.

As the 75-year old school house in Bangkhonthii undergoes updating for its electrical wiring, including the replacement of all the antiquated light fixtures with modern industrial flourescent ones, the faa (electricity) had to be disconnected at the main line down by the khlong.  This meant that the fans in the classroom were not working for almost the entire day.  Despite the favourable design of the classrooms – a design that promotes effective natural cross-ventilation – the weather today was very hot and mostly still.

With the heat and still air, the mood for learning was dampened.  Especially when I was trying to teach the younger children the vocabulary for the family.  In Thai, brothers and sisters (actually, all people, not just family) are distinguished by an additional word to distinguish their position relative to you: Pi for those older and Nong for those younger.  Trying to explain that in English we merely say “brother” or “sister” and don’t add a prefix for older or younger, was causing confusion. 

So we moved to the porch and played bingo, while calling out vocabularly (this is body part bingo, following on the heels of the wildly successful animal bingo and fruit bingo) and fanning the children a laminated bingo card.  Left and Right: Bingo on the porch.

About thirty minutes before the end of class, power was restored and we turned the fans on.  Just in time to assign gaanbaan – homework!

As for the lack of politeness Khruu Somchai was lecturing the students about, Thai society is highly hierarchical as well as highly suphaap – polite.  Students wai – the prayer-like greeting with hands folded to the chest or low face and the head bowed slightly – teachers when they walk past and are also to ask permission to enter and exit the classroom.  And of course, a Thai student would never call a teacher by only his name, but always with the honorific Khruu (teacher) beforehand.

Last week, Tod confirmed an observation I had made that students were sometimes a bit familiar, just referring to us by our names instead of with the honorific. 

For me, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially since in English we don’t normally refer to our teachers as “Teacher So-and-so.”  At the same time, we do refer to them in English as Mister or Missus followed by their last name.  In Thai, people are referred to by their first name, so Khruu Somchai’s first name is Somchai.  Leaving off the honorific results in a tremendous amount of over-familiarity.

As I said, it doesn’t particularly matter to me, but the grease that lubricates the wheels of Thai society is the ritualized good manners, so I need to help reinforce it if for no other reason than to respect the norms of the cultural which I teach and the children and I both live.

So from now on, Khruu Chris it is.

The pre-school and kindergarten aged children have been terrified of me for weeks, not daring to approach too close to this farang.  After five weeks teaching, they have become more brave, Liliputians daring to confront the giant.  Their older brothers or sisters started bringing them up to me before class today to introduce them.  The little ones would wai and then stick out their hands to shake – this Western style of greeting seems to carry a cache of cool especially among my youngest students, who all insist on shaking my hand on the way out of the classroom; I feel like a politician casting about for votes from the Barney set with all the hand-shaking!

During lunch, several of the pre-schoolers were playing with the instruments, especially enjoying banging on the drum.  So I went to see what was happening and they all came over as soon as they saw my camera, hams that they are.