Thailand is for Taunters (Update Part 17)

Posted on August 28, 2012 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

As you all know, I am quite the critical person. I am a tough judge when it comes to people, food, places—almost anything. But man, I have nothing on the people of Thailand: The Land of Smiles. During my many weeks there, especially those spent living in the secluded northern mountains with fellow teachers and Sanit’s family, was tough. Even though most knew no English, they still managed to memorize phrases or actions to notify me of my (multiple) wrongdoings. They railed on me no matter what I was doing, and the very second I did something correctly, I was ridiculed (with smiles, of course) for doing two more things wrong.

I put my spoon in my bowl wrong and offended people.

The sticky rice balls I rolled were not of the proper shape.

I wrung out my laundry wrong.

The rice I planted was not of the right depth.

I apparently offended someone because my buttocks was too high up in the air and pointed in her general direction while I was planting rice. Now I need to have policy-checking eyes on the back of my heinies, too? I can’t even farm right.

I made a mistake while hoeing the rubber saplings and left a ½”-wide, ¼”-deep cut. They somehow immediately found it and chastised me.

I ate things in the wrong order. Wait, how was I supposed to know that a bowl of a cut-up vegetable is dessert?

If I sat on the floor with my legs to the side, it was a time when I was supposed to sit cross-legged. When I sat with my legs crossed, I was scolded for not sitting with my legs to the side.

I put my boots in the wrong place and made a whole army of farmers shake their heads in disapproval.

I took the wriggling maggots out of the eggplant wrong.

I washed the edible thorn plant wrong. Though even when washed correctly, those thorns still hurt an awful lot while being swallowed.

I hit the kids wrong with my stick. No, I’m kidding on that one.

I know what you’re going to say: This is all they’ve ever done, so they’re good at it, and they’re not used to foreigners, so they’re not sure how to deal with me, and that this is my first time doing all these things, so of course I won’t be good at it. This is all true, but it sure doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, in a really vindictive way, I almost wish some of these people could come to America just to realize how it feels to be corrected all the time. Wow, I’m a mean person. But that’s how you’d feel if you were here, too.

Then, as I’m sitting and trying not to express my true feelings, auntie comes walking in and starts pawing through my belongings. She finds everything endlessly fascinating. She unfolds almost every article of clothing to look at it, so once again I have to fold it back up and re-pack. Thanks, auntie. Oh well. I guess it uses up more time, time that would be spent with me getting criticized for washing mushrooms wrong, mopping wrong, or just, you know, living wrong.

It takes a lot to offend me and even more to make me feel dejected, but when you’re being criticized, talked about, and judged18 hours every day (even the method with which I entered and exited the mosquito net, for example, was wrong), it gets to you. They break you down. There’s no one to listen to you vent. You can’t explain the situation to anyone. Even now, you have no idea what it was like. Well, I asked for it, and they’re all good people—they’re not TRYING to break me down, after all. And really, the experience, scenery, wildlife, and everything else outweighed the fact that I cried myself to sleep every night. No, I didn’t do that.

Despite my massive sarcasm, honest feelings, and downright evil personality, I still can be counted on to write the truth. And Thailand is, honestly, still my favorite foreign country. Nepal is a close second, though. Aside from my near-vomituitous experiences with most of the food here, and the constant criticism, I really just absolutely love the countryside. I’ve been exploring backyard caves, slipping down muddy roads, hanging out in awkward situations, walking down random paths, and just loving what I get to see every day. The mountains here may be my favorite place I’ll ever go, and I’m pretty sure I’ll keep coming back for the rest of my life. With MREs, of course.

Above: Mountain time

Below: Town time

Life in Northern Thailand: An Interview (Update Part 16)

Posted on August 9, 2012 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

I thought you’d be interested in seeing the official transcript of my recent interview with จริงๆคุณทำงานเพื่อแปลนี้ from Why Am I Here? Weekly, a travel media network.

Key: I = Interviewer; Me = Kathryn Cooper

Happy reading!

I: Thanks for taking the time to sit down with me today.

Me: No problem. Really, what else am I doing?

I: Good point. So tell me about your experiences here in Nan Province, where I hear you’ve spent time in both the town and the moun—OW! WHAT IS BITING ME?

Me: Oh, that’s Solenopsis invicta, or the Thai red fir–

I: I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY ARE. Just tell me how to get them off of me.

Me: Well, with all the biting ants, whether big or small, black or red, I find that you really have to wear the right clothing in the first place—thick pants, socks covering the–

I: You are not helping. This is really not a positive start.

Me: Welcome to Thailand, the land of smiles.

I: I probably shouldn’t say this, but did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or what?

Me: I wouldn’t call it a bed, and… [sighs] Sorry. It’s just that I’m so hungry all of the time. I…I knew all the rice was going to be bad, but it’s just so…bad. I can’t think about much other than the fact that I’m hungry all the time.

I: Eaten anything interesting?

Me: Well, Santol is a fruit found here that I’ve never seen or heard of. It looks like a tan mangosteen, but one only can eat the middle flesh section—not the skin or white inner pulp. It’s roughly chopped and served with fish sauce, cilantro, dried shrimp paste, and hot pepper flakes. I’ve tried it several times and each time it’s worse. Gah.

I: I didn’t know you could speak in hyperlinks.

Me: [smug shrug]

I: So have you noticed anything weird or experience something unforgettable during your time in northern Thailand?

Me: What hasn’t been weird, really? For example, I noticed in my friend’s house that right beside the place they told me to keep my big pack (I could only fit a backpack for my trip up the mountain to the school), there was a large dish on the floor filled with long, dark brown objects, which I assumed were some sort of half-rice, half-orzo objects. It wasn’t until more than 15 days later when I noticed bits of rice on the floor and what was decidedly mouse poop. Then it dawned on me…were they actually collecting the mouse poop? That could have been part of what it was. It sounds disgusting and crazy, but considering that my friend’s mother watches tv at night and ends up with a collection of 50 or so dead mosquitoes next to her (yes, she actually puts them in a neat little pile), it’s not that crazy.

I: I think you enjoy grossing your audience out. You do realize that all 4 people seeing this have a disgusted look on their faces right now, right? Is there anything you could say right now to make them feel better?

Me: Well, I could tell you a more normal food story. I bought pineapple at the local market as a little treat. We cut it on a platter for all 6 of us—me, my friend, his parents, and his two aunts—and munched away. It was just delicious—perfectly ripe and juicy. I looked up and on both sides of the table, people were making the most grossed-out, I-just-ate-something-disgusting look. “What, what? It’s delicious! What is it?” My friend wouldn’t explain, but both aunts rushed off and came back. One aunt dumped salt on one side of the platter and the other aunt dumped raw sugar. Huh? I was the only one who ate it plain. I just don’t get it, and I never will.

I: Has anything totally crazy or dangerous happened?

Me: Well, my mom’s going to be reading this, so I don’t want to say anything that will scare her. Really, aside from the two near-accidents and the near-surgeries, plus a few gun and knife incidents, nothing really was that dangerous.

I: Uh…I mean…you do realize that what you just said will make your mother more nervous now?

Me: Oh, absolutely.

I: You’re obnoxious.

Me: You’re unprofessional.

I: [sighs] Well okay, let’s try to look on the bright side. Have you figured out anything in your life?

Me: Oh, absolutely! For 3 years I’ve been wondering why Thai orange juice is so darn delicious. I finally found the ingredients in English: 12% juice, 10% sugar, 10% fructose, and the rest is water or “natural” flavorings.

I: That’s not really what I meant, but fine. Can you tell us something truly positive?

Me: Well, yes I can. I’m having an amazing time despite the usual frustrations and terrible food. Just going for walks is memorable every time. The people are crazy, the views are fantastic, and I swear even the butterflies are happy here. My ride down from the mountain was luckly to see clear skies and no rain for most of the trip, and I was blessed I got to see mountain crops, jungles, waterfalls and brooks, craggy limestone peaks and caves…it was just beauty I have no words for. Imagine the valleys and hills of Switzerland, the landscape of tropical New Zealand, and the greenery of Iceland. Not that I’ve ever been to those places, but from the photos I see, that’s an apt way of describing this place. I feel so lucky I got to see this place and in that respect, I don’t want to leave.

I: Well thank you for your time. It’s nice to end on a positive note.

Me: [deleted]

It’s Live Blog Friday! Sure It’s Tuesday, But Who Cares? (Update Part 15)

Posted on August 8, 2012 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

Dear LiveBlogAudience:

Today was just another typical Friday. You know, huge bugs, teaching foreign students alone, hiking who knows where, seeing new bug species, being left alone in a deserted mini-village, night trekking, walking over a bamboo bridge, etc. Nothing too crazy. So here’s a live-blog (if I’d actually had an internet connection) of what my day entailed. This is an honest timeline, taken from my watch and the snapshot time, of most of my day, complete with untouched, uncropped photos. Sure wish I had a true macro lens, though!

7:28AM: Because I am a bad person, I wake up about 2 hours after everyone else. My natural alarm is the delightful sounds of kids banging on and screaming against my room

8:45AM: Breakfast is late for no particular reason, which means that classes will be late as well. What’s delicious this morning? Mashed frog with chile, mashed liver of something with chile, some kind of chopped cucumber with egg, something else I either can’t remember or don’t want to describe, and the usual sticky rice. I can barely stomach any of it.

9:16AM: Classes have failed to start—or maybe they have (I’m never sure around here because the teachers and kids are always kind of roaming around outside and talking)—and my friend is about to leave for his all-day meeting. One of our students brings in a pet of his—this giant bug with nasty pincers the size of my nose—and I get a photo with it despite the fact that its grasp is really hurting my hand. I set it in a box because the owner naturally left the classroom. I wave goodbye to my friend.

9:48AM: What should I be more concerned about: The fact that bug-with-jaws is now lost and loose in my classroom, or the fact that my friend the English teacher wrote that today is Firday, July ^th27 2012? (Update: the bug was never found)

9:50AM: In typical Thai teaching fashion, I wasn’t told what to do while my friend was gone, so I’m using the cardinal rule of “teach anything you darn please. All I do know is that I’m sure as heck not following any curriculum—not that I even would know what curriculum to use. Yesterday he even admitted that Grade 6 was behind, and he closed the day’s learning with a Grade 1 English book. Pretty embarrassing that after 5 years of English lessons, the kids still know barely more than their ABCs, a few numbers, and some common phrases. Even then, they don’t truly know how to answer “How are you?” with anything other than a rote “I am fine.” I do my own thing, essentially teaching illiterate young adults.

10:25AM: I’m so bloody excited that the students are catching on! In just a few hours, I’m absolutely positive I’ve taught them more than they usually learn in 2 weeks. It’s really exciting to teach them skills they’ll be able to use for life. I just hope they won’t forget.

12:38PM: Lunch. No one speaks English. The food is palatable.

3:12PM: Teachers are walking around outside. Doesn’t the day end at 4, I ask myself every day? There never seems to be a schedule, and at 3:30PM, all the classes let out. I’ll never understand.

3:32PM: All the teachers have roared off on their motorbikes. The groundskeeper and I are the only ones left. I wait for my friend and eat some leftovers, write a note, and leave at 4:15PM down a steep, muddy, and slippery trail in the only shoes I have with me.

4:21PM: I see this butterfly—a new species for me!

4:29PM: Leafy grasshopper? I’ve seen this one, but it’s still awesome.

4:33PM: My favorite shot of the day. It’s…can I say…almost adorable?

4:50PM: New dragonfly species found at a little brook!

5:00PM: Another new one! I just got to the river and there’s lots of flying activity. How often do you see a dragonfly with green eyes and buck teeth?

5:03PM: Wow, I haven’t seen this one either!

5:10PM: Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. Another new one.

5:23PM: Another butterfly I’ve never seen.

5:23PM: Look closely so you can see its incredible curled tongue.

5:23PM: Now I think it’s tripping on ‘shrooms.

5:26PM: The awesome bamboo bridge. It’s hard to see how awesome—and potentially dangerous—this thing is. I need a photo that combines the crazy side angle, the crazy hill in the middle, and the mere two metal cables holding the thing up (aside from the fraying rope). It’s a bridge gone so wrong but so right.

5:31PM: This one shows it a wee bit better.

5:50PM: Do you see what I see?

5:51PM: Awesome.

5:53PM: I wish I had a better photo of this red glitter that came flying out of nowhere. It’s alive, and I have no clue what it is, but it’s a whole lot prettier in person. Wow.

6:01PM: Sweet!

6:06PM: Yes, it’s a piggyback ride. Kinda cute, too.

6:06PM: If this doesn’t look scary, then I guess cyclops-scorpion-hairy-spiderish-probably-the-tail-contains-venom bugs don’t scare you.

6:12PM: Even tiny, semi-ubiquitous bugs are beautiful here.

6:17PM: The bumblebees just have to go and be prettier than the American ones. I see how it is.

6:19PM: Back! Well that was 2 hours rather well spent, methinks! Just beautiful. And the electricity came back! Part of it, at least.

6:25PM: My friend gets back and we’re alone on the school premises. We start to prepare dinner and I ask his opinion of the Thai English curriculum. He seems to think that it works and that it’s effective in the cities, but that people are too shy to use it. He believes the village kids need motivation to learn, and that it’s…less rigorous coursework, shall we say, than in the city, but that overall it’s a good program. I want to yell about how terrible the curriculum is, how bad his English is considering he majored in it in college (though the same could be said for our college students), that city kids have a bit more knowledge but still speak with terrible grammar and vocabulary, and that the village kids don’t have a fighting chance, as they’ve taken English for five years and still can’t sound out words because no one understands what the actual letters sound like or mean. They’re not really learning, per se, but instead memorizing occasional words that have no relation to anything. That they WANT to learn and shouldn’t be seeing movies. That if their teacher doesn’t understand fundamental letter sounds, spelling, and grammar, then he can’t teach it. That if you gave me one week, I’d literally teach them more than they’ll learn this entire semester. That is pathetic. I want to argue, but I know it’s useless; he’ll make up some excuse because Thai teaching is from another planet. I am completely frustrated and want to rip their stupid curriculum in half. Which might help, actually, because they teach the letter A, then I, then H, then E and J. Seriously.

6:55PM: We sit down for dinner. I’m getting attacked by bugs and scratch my bitten ankles. Remember that I told you how people rub their feet, pick their toenails, pick their noses, rub their bellies, and eat, often without washing their hands? I told you only some of that, but really, when you’re in such a disgusting habitat, it all blends together. Plus, everyone shares from bowls of food served family-style. Anyhow, I went to get the soy sauce to cover up the taste of the nasty dinner, and as I go to wash my hands, my friend says, “Uh, you know, if with others, you wash your hands. It’s bad you should know if you touch, you wash. Not good.” I’m ashamed. I have made yet another faux pas. I rinse off my hands, sit back down on the floor, pick the dead bug off my rice, and eat the rest of my meal in humiliation and silence.

7:42PM: One of my friend’s former students joins us for a night trek. It’s still bloody hot but I still need to wear pants and a sweater due to snakes, mud, and bugs, so we set out and I slip and slide in my inappropriate and treads-be-gone sandals. The student, who is a dead ringer for the fat kid in Up, loves using his slingshot to mame the bats, frogs, and katydids we pass. Once we hike up and then down into the rice field valley, Sanit keeps putting frogs and other creatures into my hand. I have mud all over, am sweating like a pig, and smell even worse than usual. Is that even possible?

8:36PM: The kid has hacked off some bamboo with his knife and is peeling the layers, but it appears he just wanted to show off his machete skills. Well really, Sanit has the machete (and a gun), and the kid has more of a meat cleaver. Still.

8:52PM: The next thing the kid slingshots is caught by Sanit and slurped up by him, too. I’ll never know what it was.

9:14PM: We’re back and I’m happy to change out of my muddy clothes, but not happy for the ice-cold shower. What’s the point of installing a heating system if it never has and never will work?

9:52PM: Sanit teaches me a new card game, slaughters me in it, then reveals later on that he cheated every time to win. I go to bed at 11 something, semi-distraught and with a room full of thousands of tiny, swarming flying insects. Luckily my mosquito net keeps me safe and sound. And bug-bitten, because it has GIANT HOLES IN IT.

Goodnight, Friday. Sincerely, Coop

Thailand and a Li’l Side Trip to Laos (Update Part 14)

Posted on July 31, 2012 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

My main reason for coming back to Thailand was to once again put myself into rice-induced agony. How to orchestrate such a masochistic event? By traveling up to a new village in a new province to visit, teach, farm, and explore with the same Thai friend I taught with three years ago. Unfortunately I was delayed when he had a surprise week-long workshop in Bangkok, but it worked out for the best. While he learned modern technology that will never be put to use in the oft-electricity-less remote village schools, I decided to go to Laos to renew my visa. Despite hearing how dull the country was, I met some locals and found it to be poor but charming. It’s like Vietnam but with better food and nicer people—and I didn’t even make that up! I would just love to go back and explore the mountains, but what I did see, I liked. After biking around to my heart’s content, I returned to Bangkok on another [somewhat sketchy but they serve free food so it’s totally worth the risk] overnight bus and really enjoyed my short time exploring another city in Northeast Thailand. After having plans changed three more times, my friend finally finished up his work and we made our way up north. There are a million stories from just those few days, but essentially we made it to Nan Province at 6:15AM. Within hours, I met his family, was offered fresh-cooked frog for breakfast, saw his house, met his neighbors, packed what I could into my backpack and got on a harrowing but gorgeous bike ride up the mountains. We lucked out with it not raining while up and down the precipitously steep roads, and though covered with mud and in some close calls, we pulled into a school full of staring kids at 2:15PM. At 2:18PM, I was teaching. None of the kids had ever seen a foreigner, so for each class, they actually were invited to touch my skin, shake my hand, and ask me questions. I could see the relief in their faces as their own skin stayed dark and mine stayed frighteningly whitish-pink. Anyhow, thus far it’s been more exciting than a roller coaster ride as we’ve been traveling up and down the mountain, going into town, hiking into the jungle, and getting bitten by mosquitoes.

Upon re-entering Thailand and settling down for a bit in this remote village, it dawned on me just how much the city and countryside have changed. I was in this country just three years ago, but immediately I’ve noticed small differences—usually of Western culture corrupting tradition—that have made their way into Thai heritage.

A few examples of change you can truly believe in:

– English is now many places. You can be out in the middle of nowhere, Thailand, and sometimes find menus, companies, or even highway signs labeled in English. Recently this came in handy, as I was finally able to read the English translation of Thai lyrics on the various music videos shown on my bus. One memorable line that really struck me was: Chep-Trong-Ni-Thi-Sai-Ta, Hang-Hoen, Tae-Thoe-Mi-Mai-Po-ae-Khwam-Ket-Moa. I couldn’t agree more.

– Lukewarm water rarely quenches my thirst, so luckily more places carry juice and soda than before—WITH refrigeration! That means that flavor delights such as orange soda are Thai-ized, tasting like an essence of citrus with massive toothpaste and Listerine notes. It’s that awful taste of orange juice drunk after brushing your teeth. Bottled.

– ADD has taken over this place. At least in India they say they’ll do something, and they’ll do it, albeit hours late. Here they make plans, are late, don’t follow them, don’t tell you what’s happening, start things, and abruptly stop while starting something else without warning. When the kids are let out of school at 4PM every day, the teachers gather in the lunch/gym area and fool around. During the time period of about 4:02PM-4:12PM my first day here, they invited me to play some weird game of darts, had already dispersed by the time I walked the 50 feet over, invaded the chicken coop, were laughing, handed me some darts, killed one of the chickens (in my honor, just so you know), started weight-lifting, boxed with the punching bag, played more darts, brought out crab crackers to snack on, etc. Oy.

– There’s actually toilet paper in some places now! Someone high up in government must have read a 20^th century Western newspaper or something. Unfortunately the sanitation systems weren’t built to handle tp, so once used, what’s a gal to do? Let your imagination run wild on this one!

– Rice! Remember how I couldn’t stand it last time? Why did I think this time it would be different? Oh, but it is. This variety is sticky rice, and when eating, you pick off a small hunk and idly roll it into a tight ball with one hand, then gnaw off bits of it while eating other eep. It’s actually a whole lot better than regular rice, for I can actually get down three bites per meal before getting bored and almost crying for bread/pasta/pizza/anything else. When regular rice is served, I actually want to sob. Corn that is mushy and gross. Mashed frog with chile. Bitter seedy peas in soup. The food is so bad. It’s just so bad.

– Everything is even more awkward! Despite a greater prevalence of western culture, things are still awkwardly old style. I attended a monk inauguration ceremony. This entailed a whole room full of vegetable cutting women to stop, gawk, ‘n’ hoot. A veritable cheer went up as they all invited me to sit down and prepare food with them. Well, that’s the overarching image, at least. In reality, the women were [99% likely] laughing at me, then touching me, asking if what I was eating was delicious (it wasn’t), and generally making me feel as much like a foreigner as possible. They were actually very kind to me, but man was I the awkward center of attention. Did I mention that I’d just been to the local health clinic because I had a fever and strep throat? Yes, it was a fun monk ceremony.

– Monk ceremony, part II. You know how it always appears that Americans can’t sit still for church, conferences, or formal events, but that foreigners in traditional ceremonies are completely serious and respectful? It just ain’t true! At the recent now-the-monk-can-roam-free ceremony at the neighborhood temple, I saw that people were, in fact, quite listless. Kids poked their mothers. Grandmothers shushed whisperers more loudly than the whisperers whispered. The new monk’s father laughed and smacked our next-door neighbor, an old lady whose arms had grown tired of holding her flower bunch in prayer during the current 10-minute rant. An old man cleaned his right ear with…a toothpick. And I’m quite sure that several of the attending village elders were either dead or asleep.

Tomorrow I teach and then go on another trek down the mountain. What lies ahead? I’ve only got two weeks to go, but it will be an exciting two weeks for sure. Look for another post soon!

(Photos of scenery and temples in Laos, on or near the mighty Mekong; photos of indeterminate food and more in Bangkok.)

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