i wanted to prove that i do still exist and this blog is still active.  and to prove that it is not a computer writing this, I can recall an old lady chasing me with a stick in a dark Bangkok alleyway (beware if you ever think of bypassing real loos in this country).

The national colour for the last month or so has been BLACK, BLACK, BLACK since the king's sister died, with a day of mild relief on Chinese New Years when the reds came out of the closet.  We were just starting to return to more ordinary dress codes when my boss's father died over the weekend, so now it's back to the funerary dress.

Thailand is no longer under military rule - we have a real prime minister (a buddy of Thaksin's, no less) who has had the excellent idea of bannng smoking in all public places - I'm not talking about restaurants and bars, I'm talking in the street, generally.  Let's see how long that law lasts.

Meanwhile I'm still working the same job and living in the same apartment, still single and still a satan-worshipping necrophiliac.

I am a rebel.  I have always been a rebel.  And so, naturally, I have always scoffed at the ambitions of conservative society.  We are taught as children that our ultimate goal should be to find an appropriate partner, to have children (possibly giving up our career in the process) and to aim for ownership of a home, typically in the suburbs with a little picket fence.  And, of course, if we buy into this dream, then the day our house deal comes through is going to be one of the most exciting days of our lives.  The same sense of self-congratulation that comes with having children of our own, as though it were an amazing feat, as though no-one had ever done it before.  What a ridiculously mundane, mediocre dream it is.  Why, how could one want to be the same as everybody else?

Which is why I was taken by surprise tonight on the sky train, when I found myself looking at an ad with some young nuclear family, woman smilingly clutching baby, yuppie man in polo shirt high-fiving young son, standing in the garden of their brand-new house, proud owners who had realized their ultimate nuclear ambition and were jumping for joy, and, just for a moment, I found myself being dragged into their world, a fleeting moment of envy as I considered my own solitary existence in my one-room apartment, and I found myself wondering if one day I might have my own garden to jump up and down in, my own family member to high five in self-congratulatory fashion.  And then it hit me: I am becoming like everyone else – those conservative ambitions must have been creeping into my subconscious in the night.  How could I let that happen?  When, where and how did I start to change?  Or does it merely come down to a momentary lapse of reason?

 

Most people, when they arrive in thailand, are getting into holiday mode, enjoying the warm sunshine, sitting in a tuktuk wondering if they're getting ripped off, studying their lonely planet and figuring out which islands they're headed for. 

Then there's idiots like me who get into bangkok and immediately start worrying about finishing and submitting their assignment, doing the laundry, removing rotting food from the fridge, looking at coursebooks (help! students are back on monday!) and eventually remembering that it's hours and hours past midnight and it's probably a good idea to lie down.

It's times like these that I need to remind myself of the reason I moved here in the first place.

RELAAAAAAC!

This class have finished all their exams, finally, so i go in today with a couple of games planned, be nice, give'm an easy day for a change.
'Ok What did you do yesterday?'
'Listening test'
What did you do on Monday?
Reading test.
What did you do on friday?
Speaking test.
What did you do on thursday?
Writing test.
Correct.  And what are you going to do today?
Silence.
You don't know?
Beer pipes up.  'Fighting test.'
'Ah.  Okay.  First we are going to do a fighting test.'  (write on whiteboard).
'What are we going to do after that?'
'Sleeping test.'
'Okay.' (write on board) 'Third?'
'Game test.'
'Ok.  After that?'
'Eating test'
'Kill Teacher Dora Test'
'Video test'
'Kiss Kongphob test'
'Eating underwear test'
'Swimming test'
T. Dora (scribbling all these onto whiteboard).  'Good.  Ok. So test no 1.'

1)  Fighting test Reps from each team come to front to participate in arm wrestling challenge.
2)  Sleeping test.  Students must pretend to to sleep, T. Dora roams around tickling, pinching and randomly shouting BOO!  If a student opens their eyes they lose a point for their team.
3)  Game test.  Spider hangman 'A shark ate Patter.'
4)  Kill Teacher Dora test.  Teams get points for coming up with good ways to kill Teacher Dora (strangle, bazooka, throw off balcony, kill with Chaitawat's breath, etc)
5)  Eating test.  Luckily Pond has a banana.  3 contestants to front, fastest to eat and swallow thier 1/3 banana wins.
6)  Teacher Dora test.  Quiz questions
  a)  How old is Teacher Dora?
  b)  What country is Teacher Dora from?
  c)  What city is Teacher Dora from?
  d)  How many children does teacher Dora have?  (Jin suggests 132)
7)  Video test. 
Ask:  What is your favourite movie (Ultraman)
What does Ultraman do? (kill robots)
3 contestants to front.  You are Ultraman.  You must kill robots.  Best robot killer gets 3 points.  (bizarre robot killing commences)
8)  Kiss Kongphob test.  Teacher Dora demonstrates - big kiss on cheek.  Any student who can give Kong a good kiss gets a point.
9)  Eating Underwear test.  Oh no!  Sorry class!  We've run out of time!  You'll have to eat your underwear for homework.

The End.

i'm a little bit scared of my boss, as you might have guessed.  it seems like whenever i see her, it's because i'm in trouble.  so i do try to stay out of her way as much as possible.  that's the kind of great relationship we have.

she comes into my classroom once in a blue moon.  it's been twice so far this year, in fact. 

the first time, i was busy teaching my kids the word 'comfortable'.  of course, to fully get the meaning of this you need to demonstrate it.  first you get them to sit on a hard floor and wiggle about a bit and make pained faces.  then you get them back in their chairs, feet up on the desks, arms behind heads like so, (and remember, feet are offensive in this country)

and of course when you've got all eighteen of your students doing this, that's going to be the exact moment your boss walks into your classroom.

so I was teaching my favourite class this week, my beautifully behaved, clever, funny kids, the sort that make my job a joy instead of a drag.  and they were busy all lesson doing their intelligent, well-behaved thing.  towards the end of the lesson, we did a listening exercise - play a song, fill in the gaps on your worksheet.  completed easily, no fuss.  still five minutes left til the end of class.

'Teacher Dorla, play song again!  Please!'

'Alright.  You can sing along if you want.  Have a dance.'

'Yay!'

And so of course they're all up immediately, jumping about like crazy chickens, roaring like lions, wriggling on the floor...

this is one of those moments where you think, if the boss were to walk in now... and, guess...  what ... happened.... next....

 

Koh Chang sunset. If only things were always this fine.

I missed it, of course  - I miss every anniversary and birthday there is, as a matter of course, I don't why I'm so bad at this stuff - but yesterday marked exactly 2 years since I arrived in Thailand.  And while I was on koh chang over the long weekend (check out the photos, links below) with a bunch of silly girls, I somehow hatched a plan for myself which seems to involve a lot of intervals of 2 years.  Here's how it goes: 

In 2 years, after I've finished my MA, I'll try to find a job at an international school in Phnom Penh.  I'll move there.

After 2 years I'll buy an apartment in the section of the city I like best.

Give me another 2 years to settle in and I'll adopt a Cambodian child (gender unimportant), and I'll raise said child as a single parent, provided no-one irresistable comes along in the meantime. 

And thus I'll reach a happy middle age in Cambodia.

The only offputting thing is that I have an innate aversion to plans.  I've never been one for mapping out my life, and therefore any plan is automatically subject to rebellion and rejection.  So, although I'm surprised to realise that my plan is, in fact, entirely do-able (though by no means easy), I shan't be surprised if it gets turfed simply, well, because.

 

please be offered these pleasant photos of the weekend..., and also some moreshould you so wish to see them, thanking you very much sir