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Brand new country, same old me

DISCLAIMER: Right, I’m going to put this out there right now and just say that I am a flake. I cannot keep minor commitments and probably never will. This new lease of life afforded to my rather skimpy blog will probably have fizzled out by the time I reach the end of this boringly long sentence. I didn’t even finish telling you about Thailand, but all those intricate details I liked to bore you with were probably lost to the brain gremlins long ago anyway. On to pastures new then...

So, my French degree has (by hook or by crook) brought me to Switzerland! Here I am, 7 weeks in, one nasty (also pretend) landlord down, one deposit lost to said nasty pretend man and his pretend apartment, two enormous suitcases, an absolutely bloody huge dictionary in my hand luggage, a big fat old Swiss bursary, and quite a bit of cheese and beer later, all settled in. 

Year Abroad-ing is so far the most intense bit of adult-ing I’ve had to do - and I’ve already done quite a bit (what with being woefully old and contemplating how I can trick National Rail into giving me a 16-25 railcard next summer that will last me until I am 27... what a triumph that would be!). Dealing with a crook ‘landlord’ was an adult-ing first for me, it was not fun and still isn’t a very funny story, so I shan’t dwell. I was left with about 2 weeks before move day and facing the prospect of having nowhere to live. The university in Geneva did not give a rat’s hairy arse about my impending homelessness in one of Europe’s most expensive cities, and so it was down to me and lots of concerned looks, hugs and support from my mumma and pops to find me a new place to live. This being 7 weeks into the semester and my jovial tone probably give it away, but I found a lovely place to stay, only costing half an arm and some of a leg, with a Norwegian/Italian couple who are mildly bonkers and talk to their cats (who, by the way, seem to be multiplying like amoeba - there are now 3) in really silly voices. Urban legend has it that one girl actually lived in a squat for a few days. Not kidding. So I actually got it pretty good. Then there was applying for a residence permit - actually not a difficult task, but summoning the energy and strength of character to take my documents to the post office and actually send them was really quite a journey for me (something I get from my mum actually - oh and none of you will get a Christmas card this year because I get that from her too). Picking up my Swiss bursary was kind of like getting to have a go at ‘no-strings’ daylight robbery, and felt even more like it when they handed it to me in the form of a 1000CHF note. WHAT DOES ONE EVEN DO WITH A NOTE THAT BIG? You definitely don’t pay for your baguette with it, that is certain. 

Adult-ing aside, there has been plenty of student-ing, unless it’s a Sunday. Nothing happens on a Sunday. Tumbleweeds race you to your tram stop on Sundays. You’re lucky to find somewhere to get a coffee, and the whole city is empty. There are no people. Apart from Starbucks. You can go to Starbies and sell your kidney, wait no, both of your kidneys for a Pumpkin Spice Latté. But you know, as long as you prepare for the weekly coma that falls on the city by buying in rations, then you can get by. 

Oh yeah, and then there’s actual student-ing... like going to lectures and seminars and stuff. That bit is hard. I’ve been attending lectures on linguistics for the past 7 weeks and I STILL don’t understand what the hell ‘pragmatics’ is all about. I don’t get it in English, nevermind in French. Urgh and sorting out Learning Agreements and other Erasmus related bollocks was absolutely just the most stressful 3 weeks of my life. I will never take Manchester’s administrative staff for granted ever again. Gill Worrall would not have done this to me. 

Geneva is a wonderful city. It’s compact and beautiful, and the lake is really quite something. The city is mostly surrounded by France and sits in a sort of basin, overlooked by Mont Blanc and other surprisingly pointy mountains - pointy like Dr Seuss pointy. Do people ski down those? I don’t know and doubt I’ll ever find out. I already know that I will be terrible at skiing without even giving it a try, and don’t fancy giving everyone else the satisfaction in watching me make a fool of myself on a pair of skis. And I will most certainly not be risking a chair-lift - I have seen Bridget Jones enough times to know how that will end. I will hopefully nip up to Chamonix to have a look at the snow one weekend, though, and maybe go down a nursery slope on my bum and have a hot chocolate in a chalet. Easy does it. 

I visited the UN last week as it was celebrating its 70th anniversary and opened its doors to the public for a day. There was an unveiling of a new sculpture, which is an infinity symbol made out of three interconnecting circles of stones from all of the member states. I found our stone actually. It was just a stone, but I Instagrammed it anyway because that’s what humans do in these situations now. I also took a picture of the front of the Palais de Nations, which is futile really because Google has lots of those and I will never look at that picture again... BUT I did have a great day AND there was a ballet and the ballerinas had the best legs I’ve ever seen. It was a great day for filling my perv and geek quotas. 

Oh, and I have also been speaking a lot of French. 

Next week, Reading Week and Berlin! 

I would say something like “‘til next time...” - but I might not ever update this blog again, so maybe “Goodbye, I love you all, you’re all great, have a nice life” would be better. 

Big love,

L x

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With all of my lovely little pals from Nursery 1 and 2 on Wan Pasa Thai . They were all dressed so beautifully. I meanwhile am the one in the awful green blouse. Never mind.

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A beautiful sunset over the mountains separating Phatthalung and Trang.

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Sandy in Samui: Phatthalung's 65th Annual Sports Parade, ASEAN day, and the last long weekend's fun on the beautiful island of Samui.

Last week Phatthalung held its 65th Annual Sports Parade. It was a bit of an odd affair and I spent most of my time sat in an air conditioned office with lots of important people from Bangkok I didn't know. But that's ok because every now and again they would play my favourite Thai song in the world. It's the most frustrating thing though because I can't find it on the internet ANYWHERE. I don't know the name of it, I don't know the words, but I could hum it to you like a dream and probably include actions too. Anyway. It was the world's longest parade. My bum was numb by the end and I still didn't really understand what was going on, but it was a lovely day out. On Friday, my school celebrated ASEAN day, which as far as I can see is like an awareness day for the recently formed ASEAN union of countries in SE Asia. My Prathom 6 girls were all dressed up in the traditional costume of each of the member states of ASEAN, Thailand, Vietnam, Philippines, Cambodia, Laos, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei and Myanmar. They did a groovy little dance to a funky little ASEAN number that again, I can't find for you to listen to! But it sounds jungly and great! Again, I could hum it... which is useless considering this platform of communication. Nevermind. They looked great, but midway through the dance, Pang's skirt fell down and the whole school laughed. Poor kid. It was hilarious. Here they are:

Last weekend was another long one, so after the ASEAN day festivities had all ended, I was off to Phatthalung bus station to meet the girls for our weekend on Samui in the sun, sea and sand. After a pretty grim stay in Surat Thani on the Friday night, in a room that resembled a swimming pool-esquely decorated dungeon cell rather than a hotel room (at £3 a night, what were we expecting really?): there were banging doors, screaming children and unfriendly staff all about the place. So, we set off bright and early on Saturday morning to the ferry port. We spent about an hour on a pretty groovy bus that had angry birds painted all over the outside and cool disco lights on the inside and the squeakiest, creakiest seats I've ever sat in. Having squeaked and creaked our way to the ferry port, we walked into the cafe on site and all stopped in our tracks. I stood in front of a counter that had actual bread rolls on it, tubs of lettuce, slices of ham and tomato, and a pretty good effort at something resembling slices of cheese, and salad cream. Had we been driven to a ferry port or heaven? At that exact moment in time, I don't think any of us really knew. But we definitely did know that we needed a sandwich. It was delicious. I was so blissfully happy and can almost hand on heart say that it was the highlight of the whole weekend... kidding! But it was really great. An uneventful 2 hours later, we landed ashore in Koh Samui and were bundled into the back of a minibus to take us to Chaweng on the other side of the island. Here we are waiting to board!

This time, the hostel was beautiful. The staff were sweethearts and the rooms were spotless. The common room was really lovely too. I'd recommend it to anyone, so shout out to Samui Hostel, Chaweng Beach for being top for so many reasons! We set off for some grub pretty soon after arriving. I had a super yummy bowl of Tom Yum Kung. Afterwards, we went back to the hostel, picked up our new room mates from Malaysia called Nick and Faza and skipped down to the beach. The sea was bright blue like in stock photos, and so so still compared to what we's been swimming in previously on the other coast. The South China Sea is so much more forgiving than the waves battering the Andaman coast during this part of the season. We swam for hours. The sea was so still that we felt brave enough to swim out as far as the jet ski markers and we messed around in the sea until the sun started to set. It was absolute bliss. That evening, we all went out for dinner - I had squid ink pasta - because sometimes a girl really needs some pasta! Then we went on a long walk into town looking for Ark Bar, but not before stopping in a shady looking bar to pick up some cheap buckets, We eventually found Ark Bar, but BOY did I wish we hadn't. Having shared a Sangsom bucket with Fiona, I wasn't really feeling the party, and the amount of fire being thrown around on the beach really required me to be feeling the party a lot more than I was. So, we decided that a Long Island Iced Tea might be fun. And it was fun. so was the Tequila shot and the second Long Island - until all of a sudden, I was back at the hostel, being scraped off the common room table and poured onto our bathroom floor by Maddy (angel!). What happened next was most unpleasant and leaves me (and probably Maddy too) with super sour memories of squid ink pasta. I finally peeled myself of the bathroom floor and went to bed, hoping for a clear head in the morning. 

The next day: imagine the worst day you could possibly imagine, magnify it about 17 times and you're where I was at on Sunday morning. It was truly grim. I sat in the sea in a baggy t-shirt on my own for hours, genuinely wishing that I was dead, or passed out - anything that meant I wouldn't have to bob up and down in my hangover hell any longer. I was literally WALLOWING in a sea of self pity. It was an utterly pathetic scene to behold, I am told by my pals who looked on amused by my catatonic state. And then it was all too much. I ran out of the sea and off the beach, and URGH. I am NOT proud. AND I was so poorly that I had to miss the full moon party and was confined to my bed trying to make the room stay still for more than 3 seconds. I had a bag of plain crisps for my tea and went to sleep at 6pm. Anyone want some advice or a review of Full Moon? Don't come to me. I was too busy staring at the inside of my eyelids trying to recentre my whole being. Grim. I think missing Full Moon essentially means for me that I missed out on getting mugged by a Ladyboy and watching people cut their feet on the beach, which is fine by me. The hostel were so lovely and refunded my Full Moon ticket! Lovely people! Shoutout again to Samui Hostel!

Our last day was wonderful. I was cured! We spent the whole day on the beach, swimming and sunbathing and reading. I even did a girl thing and had a pedicure, which still hasn't chipped! I am amazed by myself! So! That was Koh Samui in a nutshell. A beautiful island. I'd go back in a heartbeat... but not for a Long Island Iced Tea... or squid ink pasta. 

An unusual bench design at the Ferry Port on Samui, and an unusual face to go with it. 

Now for some lesson planning for my last full week of teaching in Phatthalung! I can't believe how quickly it has all gone! I am having such a wonderful time here. I can't imagine what it will be like to not go into school and teach every day when I go home. I will miss the people I've met here, Thai and otherwise, so so much. I have been so lucky. This experience will stay with me forever and I will think back on it so fondly! For now though, lessons on occupations for my classes this week, 3 tutoring sessions and probably countless 'Thai' experiences that all just seem to fall and melt into one bizzare blanket 'Thai' experience after a while. 

20 days and counting! 

L. 

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Beautiful Trang. Pak Meng beach

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'Farang-a-Trang' - A long delayed update: including a near death cave experience and pictures of my face doing incredible elastic things.

Things can get a bit busy in Thailand. (This is my apology for being so late with this update by the way.) Around two weeks ago, it was sprung upon me with about 30 seconds' notice ( as usual in Thailand) that I had two new after school tutees: Ampere and Atom. I was driven to a restaurant and plonked in a karaoke room with two small children aged 7 and 4 to teach them English... for 2 and a half hours. It went quite well considering how unplanned it was. I've been doing it every day after school since. It's mildly concerning that pay hasn't really been mentioned, but 'mai pen rai', I'm sure it'll all fall into place as things usually do in Thailand. I have since acquired another little tutee. She's 3 and a half, and I haven't a clue how to write her name - but neither does she, so I won't feel too bad about it. Atom is gorgeous and shouts 'Teeeaach-EEER' whenever he wants my attention, which is very often. He has the gruffest little voice and knows exactly what he does and doesn't want to do. Ampere, the eldest is sweet as pie and is so desperate to learn. The youngest one, Akere (maybe... let's go with this spelling) is very cute and likes to dance and sing to English songs and nursery rhymes. EASY. But not for 12 and a half hours a week, which is what my hours amount to: so I have cut down to 3 days a week, every other day. I've learned that you have to make your own rules and enforce them. Being afraid to say 'no' in Thailand will just wind up with you stressing out about doing things you don't feel comfortable doing, which is not very 'mai pen rai'. Teaching a tiny group like this is lovely, though, and so much easier than teaching a big group like at school. These three little monkeys don't bring Praying Mantises into my classroom and kick it around and throw it at me like my naughty Prathom (year) 1 class do, nor do they draw willies on EVERYTHING like my Mattayom groups do  *sigh*.

A note about saying 'no' and 'mai pen rai' while I think about it actually: sometimes 'mai pen rai' really can go TOO far. 

So, living not so very far away, we decided to spend a weekend in beautiful Trang. As is custom in Thailand, plans changed at the very last minute and I was woken up by Kasem the night before, shouting my name outside my door. The time had changed from leaving for Trang at the sensible hour of 9:30am in a minibus, to leaving at 5:30am, otherwise known as before the sun has even bothered to put in an appearance, and in the back of a pick up truck. So that is exactly what happened. Always an adventure! 

Getting to Trang at such an unsociable hour at least meant that we got to make the most of our beach day on the Saturday. So, looking windswept and erm... interesting after our blow about in the the pick up, we ventured off to Pak Meng beach in a packed minibus, arriving an hour later at a scruffy but also completely perfect beach with views onto towering pillars of island rocks and a beautifully blue sea, with waves as tall as me that crashed into you like great battering rams. The sea off the Andaman coast is ferocious at this time of year, but so much fun to bob up and down in! As usual, I was a complete idiot about suncream and burned to myself to a crisp - christened Lobster Lauren for the remainder of the weekend. But the sea was beautiful and I didn't regret a second of the time I spent sizzling in those waves - peely skin and all! 

That night we went on a dinner hunt around the night market in Trang City. I had duck soup which was so amazingly tasty, and this dried squid thing that's toasted on a sort of tennis rackety type contraption and then pulled like toffee so that it's all long and stretchy - it's delicious, and I know I won't be able to get it at home, so I'm stocking up - or just eating a lot of it really...

The next day was both hilarious and terrifying, ending up in a hysterical, nightmarish trip through a cave. We went to Khao Kop, or more specifically, to see Tham Le. Jah wanted to go and said that it would be fun. It will be fun, they said. Just a cave, they said. I will never take a Thai person's advice ever again after that afternoon in the cave. We paid 75bht each for the privilege of having a near death experience in a cave. We were piled into row boats four at a time with two guides. It was lovely, we paddled down a little stream nestled in close next to Khao Kop, the guides were talking to us about the little fish in the stream and rowing us gently downstream, when we approached the mouth of the cave. It was very small. Too small. No, I mean TOO SMALL. The guides told us we would have to lie down. So we did, and it looked a bit like this: CAVE FACE.

Let me continue after that unattractive interlude. Our guide kept reassuring us with cries of "I safety you!" which made the whole process seem somehow less safe. Ah but it was ok! We were getting off the boat! It hadn't been too scary. We'd only had to lie down for a little while. After walking around the cave for a while and looking at the many shrines to Buddha dotted around the place, I got to walk underneath an 'elephant' for good luck... and that looked a little bit like this... Cave Face part 2

I know, it's a beautiful thing. Anyway, turns out we needed all the luck we could get from crouching down underneath elephant rocks in caves, because it was almost time to stare death (or just the jagged ceiling of a cave) in the face. We were thrown back into our boats and told to lie down again because it was time to go into the belly of the dragon. I wasn't really liking the sound of this already at this point. So we did as we were told along to the sound of our guide telling us "I safety you. Today you are lucky, water not high, can see belly dragon. I train 1 year. I safety you." I don't think we were particularly lucky actually. I'd rather the water had been too high. Suddenly things got very dark, very low and very narrow, and then for the next 10 minutes, I thought I was going to die, by a stalactite to the skull. It was completely petrifying and all four of us cried and laughed hysterically all the way through that rotten cave. Most importantly in this tale of underground woe, we all lived to tell it in as dramatic fashion as we saw fit. A classic example here of when 'mai pen rai' goes TOO FAR. Below photo credit not mine, but just look at all of that 'Nope' just 'noping around' in that cave. NOPE. 

Our journey home was another pick up truck ride... but this time, with 7 of us all heaped on top of one another, with the added cosiness brought by what seemed like half the luggage off the carousel at Trang Airport. But, Mai Pen Rai. We got a great photo! Even if it doesn't do any justice to how tight this squeeze really was all the way home. 

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More yummy tastiness from Phatthalung :) From Top: Pink Dragon Fruit, Little Rice things in Banana Leaf, Rambutan, a Barbecue... Thai Style, Jackfruit 

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A Note on My 'Thaim' Here So Far...

I don't think that any amount of reading up in guidebooks or investigating can prepare you for what your life in Thailand for these few weeks will be like. I had built up a vague idea in my head of my home for the next few weeks, but knew from previous experience to expect a very different reality, and indeed it has been very different. For a western girl from little North Wales, Thailand has proved to be one of the most drastic culture shocks. Everything here is completely different: the pace of life moves at an entirely different, almost glacial speed, and yet it all has a purpose. People here wake up early and really make something of the hours in their day. They are proud, caring, and home-making and without making too broad a generalisation are happier than any other group of people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting... and they really love a 'farang'.

As a result, I have been treated like royalty, and as I had hoped, have been allowed the privilege of experiencing Thailand as it really exists and functions outside the tourist rat race. As I type this post, I sit outside my Director's home, underneath a pagoda, surrounded by fruit trees laden with the best tasting fruits this side of the equator; the air is warm and still heavy with the reminder of last night's rain that forgot to fall, there are more dragon-fruit ready for picking at the bottom of the garden and the smallest, cutest (if you can call a fruit 'cute') bananas growing on huge banana plants. Pinom (or Mister C as he likes to be called) has brought his laptop down to sit with me and is showing me the most ridiculous and mildly inappropriate youtube clips of wrestling. Everything that happens in Thailand is completely hilarious and is usually completely inexplicable. I spend most of my time in a state of confusion, as I am ferried from one planned activity to another, or from one social situation to a new and intriguing dining situation with yet another person who wants their turn to buy me dinner. 

My Director, with whom I am living for the next couple of weeks, is pure, unintentional comic genius. Yesterday, while sat in Kasem's office with him, he piped up with his usual: "Hello, hello, Lauren? Where are you?". I was sat right there and have since come to the conclusion that he has no idea what that question means. I tried explaining, but he just asked me, "No, no. Where are you?. *sigh*. He has also picked up a new and interesting question which has me completely puzzled: " What are you about you?" - it's hilarious because he seems to expect and answer but also seems unsure about what sort of answer he is expecting. He keeps trying it again and again, and gets all embarrassed when I look at him blankly. I've tried asking him what he means and he just laughs and shakes his head.

Lunchtime at school is always a complete circus. The teachers are so funny and are always laughing and joking. They think that everything I do is the funniest thing they've ever seen. Even the way I take every last piece of shell off my prawns, the way I pick out the bones in the fish, the way I eat wing beans, the way I scoop rice out of the dish: all of it is hilarious to them. When it comes to peeling or opening unusual kinds of fruit: this is definitely their favourite. I can fumble around with a mangosteen for ages until It finally pops open, by which point the fruit inside is turned to liquid mush and practically inedible. I have only just mastered the rambutan, and now when I open one, I am given a round of applause for my valiant efforts. Santol is another matter entirely. I had to give it one of the teachers. She went at it with a sharp pairing knife to peel away the bitter skin, and then tapped into it all around it's softer but still bitter, pithy insides, making little cuts in it, then she scored the top of it in a deep cross and pulled it apart into four neat segments... all of this I was expected to figure out for myself: yes guys, that would have been hilarious wouldn't it. Eating the fruit inside is another mission in itself: it's slimy and stringy and clings tightly onto a large stone, but it's delicious too. I don't think I'd ever be able to open one though... The my students' parents bring me gifts of fruit and vegetables grown in their gardens. The other day, I was given the biggest bunch of the tiniest bananas I've ever seen, a bag of dragon fruit and a bag of the impossible santol! The fruit is so fresh and so 'aroy! Mr Somboon, the director at my friend Maddy's school stalked me across the whole of Srinakarin one morning just to give me a huge sack of mangosteen from his orchard (and 4 durians that we took off his hands and then secretly deposited immediately in the hands of someone who could give them more of a welcome than I ever could... ergh). I will miss the fruit so much when I have to go home! 

Food has been a huge part of my stay here already. Everyone wants to feed me or take me for food and I can never eat enough of what they want me to eat. They always look so disappointed when I tell them I'm full! Last weekend, I was given THREE dinners, all within the space of about 2 hours. I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I'd eaten some of everything. I thought I'd bargained my way out of dinner number 3 by way of compromise with a yoghurt... alas, I was then expected to eat dinner number 3 on TOP of my yoghurt. It quite a traumatic experience. Oh and these sweet, purple potatoes were involved: 

There are lots of things I will miss when the time comes to go home. But lots of things I will be pleased to have back. Western kids need their home comforts! And cups of tea! I can't believe there are only 6 weeks of my adventure left!

L.

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Sumano Cave Temple - Wat Tham Sumano. Utterly beautiful... And bat infested

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The Battle with Attention Spans

The times I spend in the classroom are some of the best and worst times I spend in Thailand. They are the best times when I finally manage to bring my Mattayom (secondary) classes around to paying an ounce of attention, and when, like this week, they finally understood how to tell the time in English. They are brilliant and exhausting when I teach my younger Prathom (primary) classes the time, and reward their concentration with a game of 'What Time is It Mr. Wolf?' and they finally seem to grasp the concept, purely from my own explanations of it. They really are the best of times when my students come into my classroom during their free periods and ask for lessons. Last week, three of my Prathom 6 students came in for a lesson on buying things in a shop or at a market stall. I helped them name all of the fruits they drew onto the felt-tip stall, and they introduced me to new fruits that I had never seen or tasted before. When you feel like they want to learn from you, it is the most rewarding feeling in the world, and when they remember the things you teach them, the pride you feel for your little projects is incredible.

They can be frustrating times too. The level of English in my school is very low and comprehension on both sides can be a bit of a mission. I read about other ETAs' classroom experiences and am in awe at what their kids can achieve when the present tense is still proving difficult for my Mattayoms and the idea of Pronouns and Possessives, a complete mystery to them. I teach most of my classes completely unaided. There is no worse feeling than having all of those little heads shake at you or wince because they don't understand anything you've been saying to them for the past ten minutes. There is certainly no feeling worse than the sinking feeling you get as you feel yourself lose your grip on the attention spans of a group of Mattayom students. In a classroom situation where nobody is translating for them, I've come to expect these lapses. I do everything that I can to avoid them, but from my experiences living in the company of a family who speak only Thai, I can empathise with their apathy towards the girl at the front of the class, gesturing and drawing diagrams to explain what she means. Prathom classes are more forgiving. To them, I'm an exciting new person who looks different and speaks differently, but to my Mattayom classes, I'm just the teacher they don't understand who drops the whiteboard markers and sits on the inky eraser, and who they know they can mess about a bit. I tried the fun teacher approach with my Mattayom, and it failed. The lesson nosedived about five minutes in, they sensed a weakness and made it their mission to make the lesson as difficult as possible. Since then, I've had to adopt new tactics. I'm sterner; hardly formidable, but I don't let them mess me about. I ask the naughty ones questions and make them a focus point in the class for a different reason to being the class clown. After my first Mattayom classes, I learned to tailor my lesson plans to their restlessness, we change activities more frequently and I actually give them shorter bursts of individual activity, rather than the longer ones I like to afford to my Prathom classes. 

Teaching Prathom is usually a joy. They are funny, sweet and still smuggle all kinds of wildlife into my classes. Trying to explain 'What Time is it Mr. Wolf?' to my Prathom 3 class was absolutely hilarious. I would line them all up at one end of the room and pick out a Mr. Wolf to take over to the other side, but on arriving at the other side and placing Mr. Wolf in his spot, I'd find that the rest of them had left their neat line and followed me all the way to the other wall. Once they had all grasped the concept, after several of my solo demonstrations (harder than you'd think, actually), we had heaps of fun and they were devastated when the bell rang and it was time for them to go. 

My teaching timetable has been a bit muddled since arriving. The school has been focusing on the district's sports day, and most of the kids have been ferried off in pick ups and song-taws to another school in the area to practice or for volleyball tournaments. I'm assured by my director, that as of Monday I can expect to teach my classes as timetabled, without any interruptions. Lesson planning will now be much, much simpler. No more emergency unplanned lessons for mixed classes of about 40 children! Hurrah! Rejoice! So, in anticipation of my new, reformed and orderly classroom timetable, I purchased some English/Thai Flashcards in Phatthalung town yesterday, and am planning on using my downtime this weekend to plan out my lessons for the week and to ponder on how to engage my Mattayom classes.

L. 

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The beautiful waves off Aonang this weekend. Another apology drawing for the fact that NONE of my photos will upload. It was glorious. I want to go back to Railei already. Apart from the near monkey attack and the sitting next to a woman, her tiny sicky baby and her 4 year old on the way to Krabi.

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A Room with a View onto this beauty in Krabi.

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Dastardly Durian and Wonderful Waterfalls

So, I figured that I should really tell you all about week 2 before I start on my long weekend in Krabi! I'll try not to drag it out too much, but you know me: once I start, I rarely want to stop. 

I shall begin by telling you a tale of woe and fright: It all started in the park not far from where I'm living. I was minding my own business counting bottle tops with a few of the kids on the street, when a couple of them found A SNAKE IN AN OLD PIECE OF PIPE AND STARTED THROWING THE PIPE AROUND UNTIL EVENTUALLY THE SNAKE BECAME DISLODGED AND FELL OUT OF THE PIPE AND WAS JUST ON THE GROUND RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. And then I ran all the way home. *Disclaimer* Right in front of me. (It was actually quite far away, probably about 12ft BUT IT WAS TRAUMATIC OK.) All the way home (home was actually only about 40m away BUT I WAS RUNNING AND I DID END UP AT HOME).

Right, so with critter encounters out of the way I can begin telling you about my glorious weekend and the lovely four days of teaching that ensued. (And then pictures. Promise.)

On Saturday, I was taken to Nakhon Si Thammarat to meet Prawadee's, (my Thai mother) family. But before I was allowed to start on this journey, I was required to journey into the depths of the unknown, the fragrant and the strangely fleshy world of the Durian fruit. I won't spend much time boring you over this vile specimen of what can only be described as tropical fruit ejaculate, but I was given 4 pieces of this stinking fruit to eat over breakfast. Having already watched Sakun manage somehow to eat a whole chicken foot apart from one bone, in what seemed like one slurp, I was already feeling a little perplexed by the morning's food. Anyway, stinking pieces of what resembles a fruit kidney were given to me in a little bowl, and I bravely ate the lot. It was a harrowing experience and one I would rather not repeat. So, lesson here is that stinky fruit is never going to be a good food decision. Ever. Even if you think it might taste good in spite of the smell, it probably won't. Boycott Durian. 

Nakhon Si Thammarat was beautiful. It was an even better experience because I was allowed to see Prawadee and Sakun's Nakhon. I didn't see a temple or go to the old markets, but I was allowed to spend a day in the lives of the people who live in the real rural Thailand. As we ventured further and further off piste, we sank further and further into the depths of the jungly growth of Thailand's countryside. Their family all live on one long stretch of road, entirely surrounded by fruit trees of all varieties (including Disgusting Durian), palm and rubber trees. The houses are basic and the people who live in them, completely extraordinary. The men spent the day harvesting palm for oil and had collected 2500kg by that night, while the women restocked the shop, made food and picked the fruits from the trees. People all along the road came to see the 'Farang' and all touched me or patted me or held my hand. The kids all congregated in one room and got out their English books to ask me questions. It was so precious. 

The next day was spent with Kasem, my director. After breakfasting on chicken, liver, sticky rice and rambutan with Sakun, I was carried off into the jungle again and taken to climb up the 1000 steps of Khao Khian, but not before having a look in on the massive reclining Buddha in the cave underneath the mountain. It was breathtaking, even in the darkness of the cave. And so, up the mountain we went. In Thailand, they conveniently install steps! It was about 35degC at 10:30 that morning, and walking up those steps was a bit of a soggy business. We got about 700 steps up, and by this point I was hanging of the side of the mountain like a dog with his tongue flapping in the wind outside a car window. I honestly thought I was about to part with my sticky rice breakfast. It was this moment that Kasem decided to incorrectly pronounce 'view' and demanded a pronunciation lesson. I made V V V sounds at him in between taking deep breaths and dangling off the side as he kept on with his 'woo', 'good woo'. Eventually, I talked the contents of my stomach down and was ready to be on my way. The views (or 'woos') really were incredible. 

Later that day we went to pick up my friend, another ETA at a different school and drove up to Khao Khram waterfall for a dip. It was glorious and the water was perfect. I've wanted to go back every day since.

Well this post hasn't been about this week's teaching at all, so I'll have to get around to that. It was lots of fun and worth telling you about, so I'll save it for another instalment. 

This weekend: Krabi!

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Never did find that cockroach. WHERE DID IT GO? How did it just disappear?

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More of them just being adorable!!!

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Orange frothy tea type stuff! My new favourite. Today I had it made for me in a hut on the side of the highway. It was the best one I've had so far. It's sweetened and creamed with condensed milk. Aloy mak! (Delicious in Thai)

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My lovely Prathom Six class. They are the sweetest things and are so eager to learn. We spent a free period talking about opposites and then they said: "Teacher Lolen, please can watch song Justin Bieber?" ... How can I say no to how cute that is?!