Tuesday, December 30, 2008

A Barbershop I Would Not Recommend


I saw this on the street in Koh Chang. The other funny thing I saw was on a menu. The menu had all the Thai foods dutifully translated into English but there was one Thai dish that had the name in Thai and then for English it was "no name." I somehow imagined a translator getting to this dish and thinking and thinking and then just giving up. There's no way you could describe this dish in English. I was almost tempted to order the "no name" dish; however, being a vegetarian means I can't deal with too many surprises especially if they show up in the shape of some former animal.

Koh Chang Sunset


Motel Misadventures

After hemming and hawing for several days about where I would go for Christmas, I finally decided that I would go to Koh Chang for the weekend. I went to Bangkok Thursday night and did all my favorite Bangkok things: a bookstore, a nice "western" supper at Au Bon Pain, and a 1.5 hour massage.

My life is never without its peculiar troubles and this trip did not prove to be the exception. My "woes" started Friday morning when I tried to make reservations for my motel in Koh Chang. I called Siam Hut and talked with a pleasant man, but I think we had some communication problems.


The conversation went as follows.

Me: I would like to reserve a motel.
Him: A bungalow?
Me: Yes.
Him: On the beach?
Me: Yes.
Him: What time?
Me: 5:00 pm please.
Him: Silence.
Me: Ummmm…Don’t you need my name?
Him: More silence.
Me: Uh…are you sure you don’t need my name?
Him: My name is Nom.
Me: Okay.
Me: Silence.

After this conversation I called several hours later.

We had the following conversation.

Me: I would like to reserve a motel.
Him: Would you like a motel room or bungalow?
Me: Bungalow.
Him: On the beach or off the beach?
Me: On the beach please.
Him: What time will you be arriving?
Me: At 5:00 pm.
Him: Silence.
Me: Ummmmmmmm....Don't you need my name?
Him: More silence.
Me: Okay, goodbye.

I had a pleasant bus trip down to Koh Chang but I couldn't help wondering what would happen if I showed up at Siam Hut. Would I say, "I'm the foreigner who made two reservations at your motel? Look me up under--"no name, bungalow-on-the-beach" The bus company dropped us off at a station. I wouldn't really call it a station. It was a building owned by the bus company where they sold you ferry tickets and motel rooms if you wanted. Even though I was slightly annoyed that I was being not dropped off at the regular station, I decided that I would reserve a real room through this company since the fear of arriving on the island and going from motel to motel looking for a place to stay made me nervous. I looked at some pictures on the wall and I said, "I would like to reserve a room at White Sand Resort." At least I think that is what I said.

A forty minute ferry ride and twenty minute songtow ride later, I got to the beach where my motel was located. I walked along the beach looking for my motel which was (according to the sign on the road) 200 meters down the beach. The sun was setting and I was happy. I couldn't believe my good fortune to be just walking relishing the sunset on the beach. I walked and walked . I walked some more and thought about how though I did not speak the metric it seemed like a lot more than 200 meters. I passed motel after motel and finally (sigh) after I had passed ALL the motels I saw my motel--The White Sand Resort. The resort was beautiful.

I thought to myself, "For 500 baht this place is quite nice." I went to the clerk and handed them my receipt and then filled out the forms. Soon I would be relaxing my bungalow near the water. After a few minutes the clerk said, "You did not reserve a room at this motel. He handed me my receipt and it said, 'The Island.' Ah...fool that I was...I never checked the receipt. The clerk gave me a map of the motels on the island and I sat down in the nice lobby to look at it. I studied the map intently but didn't see my motel. A man, who worked for the motel, came and sat down beside me. He set his can of Singha Beer down on the coffee table and stared at the same map I was looking at. He stared at the map for several minutes and announced, "Your motel is not on this map." He made several phone calls and discovered (actually much to my relief) that my motel existed. He then offered me a ride there.

I looked at the beer he was drinking, I thought about being in a truck with a man I didn't know, I thought about what my dad would say about all of this, and then I thought about the 30 minute walk back to the road and I agreed to go with him. It was a brilliant cost-benefit analysis. Personal safety vs. A Long Walk with personal safety losing out (and I might add the realization that I didn't know where my motel was). He went to get the keys from the staff and gulp he grabbed another beer (gulp) and we drove up a long windy road through the jungle to the main street. Ten minutes later I was at my motel The Island--a run down kind of place up the hill from a construction site. It had a bed, a fan, and a cold shower. It was worth every baht I paid for it.

I went to bed early that night. I was too tired to go eat anything and I was just happy to be in my little room. The next day I got up and watched the sunrise, then slept for a couple of hours, then lounged on the beach, then went back to my room for an afternoon nap, then on the beach again until sunset. There was not much (thankfully) I could say about that day. It was just full of all the peace and relaxation that I needed.

After sunset I met up with Marlise and Daniel (thanks to Laura posting my phone number on their blog--I hadn't gotten the number from them when they told me to call them when I got there). We had Indian food and talked until almost 11:00 pm.

I caught the ferry, then bus, then van back to MC the next day and thus ended my very very short Christmas getaway.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

What Could God Not Do Without You?

I came across this poem in my devotions the other day and I was struck by the last two lines of the poem. Read on....

When my master holds
'Twixt chin and hand a violin of mine,
He will be glad that Stradivari lived,
Made violins, and made them of the best.
. . . For while God gives them skill
I give them instruments to play upon,
God choosing me to help Him,
. . . If my hand slacked
I should rob God--since He is fullest good--
. . . He could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins
Without Antonio.

By: George Eliot, Qtd in The Meaning of Prayer

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Tiger Monastery



A couple of weeks ago I went with some students on a school sponsored tour around Kanchanburi Province. We stopped at the Tiger Monastery. If you look at my hand in this picture it is only lightly resting on this tiger. He looks calm and asleep but I wasn't going to take any risks!

Random Bits of Poetry

One of the pleasures of being an English teacher is that the most random bits of poetry are in my mind. Today walking back from the cafeteria just the title of a poem came back to me, "Who burns for the perfection of paper." The other night walking around the campus I could hear in my head, "I will arise and go to Innisfree...And a small cabin build there, Of clay and wattles made." The funny thing about the last poem is that I heard it read once on a CD and ever since then the sound of the poem in my mind is in the shaky voice of the old man reading the poem from that CD.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Being a Student Vs. Being a Teacher

I'm not sure if it is better to be a student or a teacher. There are many things I miss about being a student. I miss the luxury of being able to day dream or write letters if a class is boring. Now, if a class is boring...there isn't much to do but (gulp) figure out why my students are falling asleep. I miss only being responsible for myself. I miss the only bad consequences of not planning well, is getting a bad grade. I miss playing hooky. It's a little harder to run away for a day when you need to think about how that will affect your students.

On the other hand, the advantages of being a teacher are plenty. By the time finals roll along, I'm happy. By then, most of my work is done (okay besides the hours of marking that come later). I also like the power to cancel things. If I'm falling behind in my work, than I can cancel some assignments so I can catch up.

And as much as I grumble about how much school and work occupies my mind (I have to make a conscious effort not to worry about classes while I'm at home), I love the constant challenge that being a teacher brings to me. Every day, every class, I'm discovering (sometimes painfully) that there are better ways to go about what I'm doing. I'm forced to grow.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Romeo

An email my dad sent me last week:

Hi Julie,

We are about to walk out the door and drive to Gina's. I had to lol at mother's list I found as to what to bring:

frozen cranberry salad
pie
frichik
Romeo

Oh well he will be on ice. So stay away from Bangkok and India, both don't look too happy lately.

Love,
Dad and Mom

Romeo is our dearly departed cat. He lived with our family for twenty years and when he died my sister wanted to give him a proper burial (they even made a slide show for him), so my parents kept him in the freezer until they were able to take him to my sister's house at Thanksgiving. Some may think my family mad, but if they knew Romeo--they wouldn't. He was such an amazing, loving, weird, wonderful, and delightful cat.

He was massive in his prime (20 lbs/9 kilos) and some nights when he fell asleep on my neck I would wake up choking because he was so heavy. My sister loved him so much that when she started dating her husband who had a cat allergy I asked her, "So will it be Romeo or Oscar?" She told me the question wasn't fair.

Romeo loved to follow us around the house. Whatever room we would move to he would eventually follow. He would watch my dad shave in the morning or he would just sit in the living room with us as we watched TV.

In his old age Romeo grew senile. Sometimes he would just sit for hours staring at nothing. He was also deaf. Despite his senility he was still loving. My last time I was home I spent many hours reading in bed and Romeo would curl up his bony old cat body beside me. I will miss him. I hope pets go to heaven.


"Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow."

Romeo and Juliet Act 2, Scene 2