Juicy, Joe & Jungles

This past weekend, we had our first break from St. Gabe's thanks to a Buddhist holiday. We had three choices: stay in Bangkok, travel south to Phuket and soak up some beach time or head north to the mountains of Chiang Mai. Five others and myself chose the latter. Ever since I decided to come live in Thailand for the year, I had been most looking forward to an experience of the jungle scene. And, after this long weekend, I can officially attest to that expectation, plus some.


We left on Friday evening and headed to the train station with the intention of buying ticket for an overnight train to Chiang Mai, where our tour guide would pick us up at the station. Since we are intelligent Americans, we forget about the whole holiday weekend aspect and the station was sold out completely for the next two days. How would I ever ride my elephant??? Luckily for us, the station expected stupid farongs to do this and they had pricey bus tickets on standby. Without any other options and because we were NOT staying in Bangkok any longer than necessary, we booked it. Climbed & squeezed our way to the back of the bus where two of the seats could not recline and mentally prepared ourselves for a 12+ hour bus ride. Couldn't get worse right? Wrong. The bus company was "nice" enough to blast the AC throughout the ride. But halfway through the journey, we were the recipients of the glitch in that nice gesture. Whenever the bus stopped then immediately went forward, the condensation from the AC gathered and streamed to the back of the bus. This wouldn't have been a problem if there wasn't a hole in the ceiling, thus pouring out in waterfall fashion onto our already freezing bodies. Two of my friends were completely soaked and with no where to go, were forced to sit on the floor and in the aisle in order to avoid the constant flooding.

Tired, cranky, sleep deprived, we arrive in Chiang Mai and take a tuk tuk to the train station to meet our guide, Jungle Joe, a older man native to the city, maybe 45-50 years of age. We were also introduced to his sidekick & food/materials carrier Boom (or F*cking Boom! to Joe). Both a little lost and confused, we finally found eachother and pile into the songtheaw. What is basically a taxi-pick up truck drives us 2 hours up a mountain (literally) on what is they call a road, but in actuality mud, rocks, and pieces of random cement. Let's just say it was a rocky ride, pun intended. Joining us on the trek was a Dutch family; Leo (father), Maret (mother), and 3 boys between the ages of 10-15 (couldn't pronounce their names if I tried). The parents were fluent in English and the oldest son could get by. They were good company, very nice people, a little strange but then again they were European so I wasn't that surprised.

Joe, our tour guide for the trip

After a quick lunch, we began our trek through the jungle. I guess for some reason we had all expected some sort of path leading us to the first village but that was not the case. The sungtheaw dropped us off on the dirt road and we headed directly into the long brush towards the mountain. For someone who works out seldom to never, the climb was tough and long. Sweat poured within the first 10 minutes of the uphill hike and it was extremely easy to lose your footing. A girl maybe around 17-18 years old, came with us as well. She lived in a village nearby so it made sense to walk with us. I could tell by the rubber flip flips she was wearing that this strenuous hike (to us) was a piece of cake to her, maybe even part of her daily routine. In America, if you need to go to the supermarket for a few things like bread, eggs, milk, you hop in the car and you could be back in 20 minutes. For this girl, she hikes down a mountain for 2 hours, buys what she needs from the closest "town", then hikes back up the mountain for 2 hours. God, Americans can be spoiled sometimes.

The first village we arrived to consisted of several bamboo huts resting on the River Tang. The villagers were refugees from Burma, living off the income of tourists passing through, so they were constantly trying to sell us things, like jewelry, belts, or purses. They were relentless, especially when the children became the sales agent. Who can say no to a 4 year old refugee child with dirty clothes? Not me since I am a proud owner of a silver elephant anklet that is currently turning my skin a nice shade of green.

Our living quarters were... cozy. And by cozy I mean, it was one big room in a house. And by house I mean a bamboo hut. And by hut I mean literally the floor/roof/walls could collapse at any moment and we would be washed away in the poop filled river (more on that later..). But luckily for us, that didn't happen. The room had 8 mattresses, about an inch in thickness and a pillow with the texture of a brick. Each nest was equipped with its own mosquito net (an essential component over any shacked up bed) which dangled above.

The next morning we rose to the sound of the roosters, naturally. We ate our breakfast (instant coffe & 5 pieces of bread) and waited for our ride to arrive. Our ride being the elephants of course, who were slowly but surely picking us up right on the site of our "hotel". Prior to this trip, the only encounter I had with elephants had been at the zoo where we were separated by a fence or a cage. That's the difference between America and Asia. Interactions with elephants are just plain casual here, there was nothing weird about it -- a similar encounter in America to that of a horse at a farm, except bigger, fatter, & slower. The seat on top of the elephant is basically a piece of wood which handles, which were definitely used throughout the journey. We rode the elephants through the jungle for about an hour, ending the ride trudging in the river -- where we learned is their favorite place to relieve themselves. A fun surprise for the Dutch family who spent about an hour swimming in the river the previous evening...little did they know that wasn't mud exfoliating their skin.




We waved goodbye to our new round & surprisingly prickly friends and headed to the river for our second means of transportation of the day: bamboo rafting. The villagers literally woke up that morning, cut down the bamboo from the surrounding jungle, and constructed our rafts. With my lack of coordination and strength, I decided to take a seat near the front of the raft, leaving a few of my friends to do the steering. Joe's instructions were basically: avoid the rocks... and for the most part, we did. The ride was great, lasting about 2 hours, surrounded by deep greenery & banana trees, no signs of civilization for miles.


We arrived to eat lunch then hike to the next camp. We said goodbye to our Dutch friends and began the 45 degree angle climb up the mountain. Did I mention it poured down rain during lunch? Correction, we slip-slide and stumbled up a muddy, clay colored hill. But I will say, I would do it again right this second. Because although it took all my energy and strength and endurance to make it up there, I did make it and it's easy to say that the view from up there was quite possibly the most breathtakingly gorgeous spectacle thing I've ever witnessed. I couldn't look away. The pictures don't capture its beauty or serenity. Even my own eyes had a hard time understanding that this was real. I had heard that Thailand's beaches were unlike any other and I'm sure they are, but please don't overlook the mountains.



Aside from the amazing experiences I had elephant riding, hiking, and bamboo rafting, my time is Chiang Mai blessed me with some of the most delicious meals I've ever eaten. One of many careers, Joe had worked as a chef in Saudi Arabia and cooked for us for almost all our meals. Probably my best dinner yet in Thailand, he cooked up a sweet and sour stir fry with chicken, pineapples and peppers, along with a green bean dish with something tasting like pork (one of the elephant drivers tried to convince us it was dog but Joe denied this). Once the tour was over and we had some time to explore the city of Chiang Mai, we sought to find a burger place that Beth had been to when abroad and raved about their milkshakes. We found the place, which was named Mike's, so clearly anything but Thai. Now for those of you who know me well, I'm a pretty good eater and I don't like things to go to waste. I'm not sure if it was hunger or a longing feeling of American food but that burger and those fries and that god-sent oreo milkshake disappeared down my esophagus in a matter of 6 minutes, approximately. I think my friends were surprised, intimidated, disgusted, but hopefully a little impressed by this consumption.The idea that a piece of that meal could potentially end up in the trashcan was not something I could live with.

Delicious Thai dinner

I realized during & after this trip that I'm definitely a mountain person. As I sat on top of that beautiful mountain among a village of poor Thai refugees, I had no desire to be on a beach. This was equally if not more relaxing, despite the commute. I also never once craved or felt any need for technology.. no facebook, cellphone, computer, nothing. My ipod died on the ride up so really it was me, a few friends, my book & nature. Sometimes the simpler life is, the more you appreciate the things that exist around you.

Eat good, Live good, Stay good

During lunch on Monday, my co-teacher Francis (the same man who pointed out my singlehood to an entire classroom of students) told me he had been given two tickets from a student's parent to go to a Muay Thai boxing match and that he wanted me to come with him as a thank you for helping in the classroom. I read that seeing a Muay Thai event first hand was ranked as one of the top things to do in Thailand, I reluctantly said yes and mentally prepared myself for the violence & craziness that I would soon witness.

We met after school the next day and took a taxi to the stadium, which was downtown. The traffic was really bad (like it always is in Bangkok) and it took over an hour to get there. So you can imagine what I was thinking: what the hell are the two of us going to talk about? A 60-year-old Thai man whose English isn't quite polished and a 22-year old clueless American girl who can't understand/speak Thai for the life of her. But the ride ended up not being so bad and I definitely learned many interesting things about him, both hilarious and tragic. He began with an attempt to explain the political situation in Thailand, atleast a version that wouldn't scare me too much. After this was a quick Thai lesson, which basically taught me that the language is all about the tone of your voice. Basically a word can sound exactly the same but whether or not you say it shorter, longer, higher or lower will decide its meaning. For example, the Thai word for both "shirt" and "tiger" is seux, but the pronunciation for shirt has a much deeper tone.

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When I asked him if he had ever been to America, he said he had been only been to Chicago. He told me a story about how he got very drunk and that a taxi driver drove him too far out of the way to his hotel. One of his observations there: "I think I see there many black person in Chicago." Oh boy.

I learned about Francis' wife, who is currently battling ovarian cancer, and believes her to be an "iron woman", especially after beating breast cancer a few years ago. He says she must live in his hometown, not in Bangkok, because she is too weak. He visits her when he can, as well as his son, daughter in law, and "nephew", which I want to say is actually his grandson. It was sad to hear about his situation, but it did help me to understand and realize how much Thais value family and loved ones.

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We arrived at the stadium, ate some rice and pork at a nearby vendor (where Francis muttered the title of this post), and then met by a soldier at the gate that would lead us to our seats. Because I am a "farong" (or foreigner) and woman, they needed to know ahead of time that I was coming. The sport is an extremely traditional event in the Thai culture and women are absolutely not allowed step foot in the stage, or in some places, be present for the event. Luckily for me, we had VIP tickets which meant we got to sit on the floor with vendors serving beer and popcorn, a pretty classy thing for Thailand. Francis definitely was ecstatic, proven by his ordering of numerous Changs. Each beer was cheers-ed to "happiness" and I learned the word for drunk: mow.

The matches were intense, but fascinating. The competitors ranged from age 13-19, approximately and weighed somewhere between 100-125 pounds, basically of pure muscle. They were quick and powerful. The boxers were from extremely poor families and relied on winning for income. The fights were full of passion and unlike American boxing, anything is fair game. There is kicking, punching, what looks like hugging. In the sport, the two most dangerous parts of the body are the knee and the elbow, which were used aggressively in each match. One boxer even had to forfeit the match because of a leg injury, which Francis said he could have broken it. I never imagined that someone's knee jab could break another person's bone. Sitting VIP also gave us the opportunity to meet some of the boxers backstage, which was pretty neat. Francis was obsessed with me taking pictures and videos because "you mother have a look what we see. She see the blood!" Not sure if Gerty would want to see that, Fran.

Overall, the experience was memorable and like nothing I had ever seen before. I'm very lucky to have had this opportunity where I was able to not only sit VIP on a 2,000 year old Thai sport and meet the participants but more importantly witness a "mow" Francis wear my purse.

Unexpectations

So, last week was a tough one. Over the course of a few days, basically our whole office of teachers caught some type of stomach bug. Needless to say (and I'll spare the details), I was stuck in my room for the week, barely able to eat or move for that matter. America was punishing me for leaving because my 4th of July was not pleasantly spent. Luckily the worst of it was over the weekend so I didn't miss any classes.. they were just a struggle. But, now I'm back and ready to blog!

This past weekend was relaxing & I was able to try a lot of new things. Friday afternoon was spent at the spa/nail place. A lot of people told me that going to Thailand I should get manicures and pedicures all of the time.. and after this experience I'm in total support of that suggestion. I only got a pedicure (the 2nd one I've ever had) but it ended up costing 150 baht, which is a little less than 5 dollars. You really can't beat that. Plus, as an added bonus, the brand of every nail polish was called EMILY, so if that isn't a sign to treat yourself, I don't know what is.

Saturday I decided to go with a friend and try Zumba dancing. If anyone knows me well, I thoroughly enjoy a good dance session. When I say good, I don't mean the dance moves. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with the body coordination or gracefulness in that area of movement, but it doesn't mean I don't like to flail my arms and legs around and try to feel the beat. Zumba, which is an exercise that incorporates spanish/hip hop/african dance moves in routine steps. There are two fascinating aspects of my class. The first is my instructor. He is a Thai man, probably in his mid-late twenties, and is flamboyantly and fabulously gay. He speaks very little English, but can count and say "front", "back" and "side" which is basically all you need. I've never witnessed a man with more rhythm and with the ability to move his hips so fast. The second fascination is one of my fellow zumba partakers: a 60-year-old white South African man. Zumba classes, like most aerobic type classes, are mainly composed of women aging from 20-45, so you can see how this is intriguing to me. As much as he sticks out, he's not at all embarassed to take the class and is proud/confident enough in his moves to dance in the front row each week. As amusing as it is to watch him awkwardly & agressively shake his hips to Shakira, I give him credit for doing something he clearly enjoys.

Sunday was spent doing touristy things. St. Gabe's is close to the Grand Palace & Wat Pho, home of one of the biggest reclining buddhas in Thailand. The palace was beyond beautiful and although we couldn't go inside, the place just screamed royalty and luxury. It was seriously blinged out, but anyone in Thailand would agree that the King deserves nothing less. He is utterly worshipped, but not in a creepy way. I've never experienced a culture where one person is placed at the highest peak of admiration and trust. One hundred foot tall pictures of him at different times during his life are displayed in almost every intersection. The King's song is played each morning and Friday afternoon at 3:25 on the dot and the whole school must stand to sing it. The King's song also plays at the Movie Theater before each showing of a movie, and the entire audience stands to honor him. Despite all of the corruption in Thailand's political world, the love the Thais have for their leader is mesmorizing and definitely something that doesn't and probably will never will exist in America.

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Me in front of the Grand Palace

The Men in My Life

The students at St. Gabriel's are literally out of their minds. It's a battlefield/stampede/sports event just walking to my office each day. I'm either concerned a football is going to fly at me or a boy will push his friend into me thus knocking me so that I fall down the stairs, or a popsicle will smear across my uniform white blouse. SO many predicaments that are completely plausible at any time of day.

Side note/fun fact: It is not considerably weird to see a naked child at St. Gabriel's. The school does not believe in locker rooms yet the students must participate in Swimming. Also, the students are criticized for their uniforms. If their shirts are untucked, it does not reflect the school well (the looks trumps behavior, obviously). Students at St. Gabe's are OCD about many things, and tucking in their shirt is up there at the top of the list. Sounds simple but naturally, the best way for them to do this is to unbuckle and drop their blue dress shorts to the ground, just so the tucking in process is that much more successful. I've seen this in the hallways, on the stairs, during class, at lunch...anywhere; there's no shame. But let's just say, a day doesn't go by that I don't see a shirt tail sticking out through the fly.

In order to make a little extra money, I signed up to teach a tutoring session twice a week. The group of boys assigned to me are at the P.3 level (or 3rd grade for those back home), which means they are about 8-9 years old. Here is my class roster:

1. Ultra

2. Bank

3. J.J.

4. Pongpalin

5. Butt

6. Pak

7. Pat

8. Arut

9. Matan

10. Tong

11. Nut

12. Beaver

13. Blue

14. Sky


Obviously, these are their nicknames and I wish I was joking about half of them Their real names are long and impossible to pronounce. I come to determine that Nut is probably one of the most popular names, kind of like a Mike or John in America.

As a whole, let's just say the boys have a lot of personality.. and by personality I mean, they love to do whatever the hell they want because I'm foreign and think I don't understand what's going on. I mean, I don't know what they're saying at all but I can smell sneakyness from a mile away. During the first week of tutoring, there wasn't any talking to them; it was all screaming. Whether or not the boys knew what I was saying, they knew I was pissed.

One day, I gave them a worksheet with a picture of an alien, a frog holding a diamond, and a UFO and told them to use that picture to tell a story. They seemed to somewhat understand. Enjoy!


"Once upon a time, the alien named X. Jump in the moon. Eat cake banana and fish. The frog named L. Jump in the sun. Eat fish apple and water." --Chutiwat Towattana (aka Bank)


"Once upon a time, UFO if my monster. UFO take off in the land of the frog. Frog is the diamond star. Star is the light of night. UFO is the see is the frog and alien see is the UFO is no take off in the land in USA." --Beaver

"Once upon a time, the alien want diamond for the frog under the star and UFO because it is night and the frog say "I like the diamond" and the alien say "I want the diamond". The frog say "What is your name" and the alien say "My name is Four Hand. I am a monster alien." "If you don't give the diamond to me I won't eat you", alien say. Then say "No I don't give the diamond for you." --Matan

Fresh, Spicy & ...

Around the corner is a little restaurant called Fresh and Spicy (clever name right?), which is run by a Thai family and has cheap tpyical meals, like pad see ew--my favorite--and stir fried vegetables. Today, just like any other day, a few of us went for lunch. We had just been at the market all day so I had been wearing a casual summer dress from Target (no, I wasn't wearing my market plaid blouse, Liz/Kristi). No big deal. We order, eat, get free mango because they love that we're teachers, and go to pay. Two women are working the register because it's difficult with translation and numbers. I tell them what I order and give them the money. Both are smiling very lovingly at me and I just think, Wow, these women must like my dress or something. One says something to me, but I can't really understand her, so I just smile and kind of nod. But she says something again and looks at her friend. I ask her to repeat again, and she points to my stomach and innocently asks "Baby?". Ah, the day has come when someone mistakenly assumes my gut is with child. I reluctantly decline her assumption. They are both extremely embarassed and apologize profusely. I tell them No problem" & that they didn't offend me enough so that I wouldn't come back.

I've learned that Thais tend to not realize when they are being offensive, especially when it comes to weight and physical appearance. On more than one occasion, Francis (my beloved co-teacher) pokes a student in the belly and calls him jiggly. It's a common topic of conversation, which is fine and understandable with the amount of rice and noodles consumed on a daily basis. But, I felt this situation needed to be documented because of course, it's usually an interaction that I would be involved in.

Now, where are the pancakes and french fries I just ordered delivery? My fetus is starving.