As panelist in the conference

From 25-26 October 2012, I was invited to be panelist/speaker during a conference at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand. The theme of the conference was “Confronting Unequal Worlds of Development: Crisis of Public Knowledge and the transnational Social Science Agenda in ASEAN”.

In the evening of 24 October, I supposed to arrive at SASA International House. By name, I expected the house of a “three-four stars” hotel. Upon arrival, I found that the “house” is equal to normal student’s hostel and it caught me by big surprise. It was rainy evening and we spent exactly two hours from airport to hotel due to traffic jams. However, staying in this house, is good for me to reflect my time as student in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), in the 80th. We used to live in similar condition. We had basic equipments provided for students. After checking in, I would like to have username and password for internet connection to send some info to organizer. In Cambodia, you could get WIFI connection in any coffee shop, mobile phone shop or even at small guest houses. Here, the first reply was “no work”. They sent one technician to my room to check; he could not understand a word in English. I asked him about username or password, the reply was “no have”. So, I was left in my own trouble. But, it later turned out, that I was checking-in in the wrong hotel and the receptionist let me check-in without any problem. SASA International House is located two houses away. Amazing Thailand! Actually, it was my own fault.

At the stage talking about Cambodian approaches

What amuses me as well was the incident the next morning. I woke up very early to work on my notes for the presentation and reserved 45 minutes to go from my accommodation to the function venue. I expect that it would not be that far since we are in the university’s compound. When I questioned the receptionist for the place I want to go, nobody speaks enough English to talk to me, let alone the knowledge where it is. I went to the street and asked the students. Again, nobody knows where it is and their English is rather poor, as University’s students. I asked myself, how come that these Chula’s students speak so poor English? The students asked the guard for help and they could tell me where to go in a very broken English and Thai. Fortunately, I also understand some Thai words, since I used to learn it some years ago in Germany. I took the shuttle bus and after two stations, I asked again. This time, I talked to the professors (foreign and Thai) to find out. Finally, I arrived there just five minutes before official start up. Since I do not want to be late, I was lucky to be there on time.

During the first day of the conference, especially in the morning, around 200 participants, mostly students joined us. In the afternoon, the students have their classes; the number comes down to 74 participants, including 35 women. I did my job as panelist in the second day of the conference. The theme of our panel discussion was: Regional Economic Integration and the Resource Economy: Exploring the Interface of Public Knowledge and Public Policy”, from the Cambodian perspective. I hope that I have contributed to the success of this conference and might help to shed some light to the darkness….Thank you to organizer, especially M-Power for inviting me to participate in this conference.

During the first day of the conference

What I wanted to highlight in this short articles are:

1. After I left my student’s time more than 20 years ago, I feel like being a student again to stay in a modest student’s campus.
2. I participated in this meeting at the Faculty of Political Sciences. Since I got my degree in Political Sciences in 1992 from Germany, I have somehow connection to this faculty.
3. Not so many Thai people could speak proper English. I have been to Thailand about a hundred times. Every time, I have difficulties to communicate with them in English; being a taxi driver, a student, hotel staffs or even some academicians, let alone common people. I still wonder why?

Visiting the stilt house owned by Ha Van Minh for the first time, we had a familiar and warm feeling. The floor of the house is very large and made from bamboo with blankets and pillows neatly arranged.

It was the place for us to sleep at night. The space under the floor is for having meals and drinking tea. While inviting us for a cup of hot tea, the host said: “Let me prepare a meal for you with Mai Chau glutinous rice, boiled chicken, carp-bamboo sprout soup, smoked buffalo meat and alcohol, all right?” The mere thought of this meal made our mouths water.

Stilt houses in Lac Hamlet are considered “hotels” in the forest. Touring the hamlet by bike is a real interesting experience for foreign tourists. Recording images of the hamlet. Tourists buy souvenirs in Lac Hamlet as presents for their relatives and friends. Tourists are interested in Ao com made by the Thai people. Diverse colourful souvenirs are displayed for sale.

At sunset, it was slightly cold and we took a stroll on the path in the hamlet to enjoy the sweet scent from the paddy fields and buy some goods from the Thai people. In front of each stilt house, people put some small tables for displaying their brocaded products, such as purses, handbags and Pieu scarves (a traditional scarf of the Thai people). They also hung an abundance of long cloth rolls and Ao com (a short traditional shirt of the Thai People) with distinctive patterns. In addition, unique products like wooden bells for buffalos, bamboo flutes, bows and cross-bows and knives were also displayed for sale. All the products were hand made by the Thai people.

Here, we felt very comfortable to select some items to buy while the owners were absorbed in their work by the looms. Brocade weaving is the traditional craft of the Thai that creates cultural characters that fascinate tourists going to Lac Hamlet. An unusual cultural feature of the Thai people is clearly seen through their costumes: a scarf that crosses the head, a blue shirt, and a black floor length skirt. Girls often wear a brocaded piece that crosses her chest that helps them look graceful.

Ha Thi Muoi shows tourists her techniques on weaving brocade in her stilt house. When night falls, tourists can participate in a Sap dance performance with hospitable and graceful girls in the hamlet. Tourists enjoy a traditional dance of the Thai people in Lac Hamlet.

When night fell, Mai Chau became boisterous with drumbeats performed by the hamlet’s artistic band. Not long before, Minh – the owner of the stilt house where we stayed – had beaten the drum to signal that a Sap (bamboo pole) dance performance would be held at his stilt house. In Lac Hamlet, all families can organize a bamboo pole dance performance, but they hold it in shifts. Sometimes, the performance is held at the family that has a large number of guests. A dancing team often includes beautiful girls who learned dancing, singing and even a foreign language to receive tourists. Each performance often ends with a Sap dance and girls inviting guests to drink Can wine. We all were drawn in by the lyrics of the songs and dances of the Thai girls.

When the party ended, it was cold so we curled up in a Sui blanket made from the bark of an Antiarias tree to have a good sleep right on the floor of the stilt house. It was a real interesting experience to have a home-stay tour in a stilt house in Lac Hamlet.

Salt Lake City (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have learned 2 languages, not counting English, in 2 very different situations.  I learned Thai as a 19-20 year old missionary for my church in Thailand.  I HAD to learn and my ability to be a missionary would have been very limited without being able to speak Thai.

On the other hand, I chose Spanish because it’s something I have always wanted to learn.  I don’t NEED to know it.  In fact, it’s hard for my to find a normal opportunity to converse with someone in Spanish even though I live in a semi-Spanish speaking country.  I am also learning it as a full-time working father of 4 kids.  To say that the two experiences are not the same would be the understatement of the year.

The Biggest Difference

The biggest difference for me has been how I handle finding a native speaker here in my town.  First of all, I do find Thai people in Utah.  Actually, I used to go to a Thai/Lao congregation of my church in southern Salt Lake City.  They do exist, though admittedly, they are rare.

No matter where I am, when I hear Thai words coming out of  someones mouth, I have to go find them.  Then I throw out one of two phrases. I either say “ไปไหน” (bpai năi) which literally means where you going, but it is more of a greeting than a question, or I will say “เป็นคนไทยหรือเปล่า” (bpen kon tai rĕu bplào) which means “are you Thai?” and it comes from the famous song about what makes Thai people, Thai.

The response is always the same, surprise and then excitement.  No matter how  good of an English Speaker they are, they are happy to find someone who can speak Thai and we become instant friends.  It’s a wonderful experience, even if it is a rare event.

Spanish speakers in America are much more plentiful, but when I chance upon a native Spanish speaker here, they are usually NOT from another country.  They are typically the bilingual children of immigrants, which means that the need or desire to communicate in Spanish with a stranger who is throwing out his Swiss cheese speaking abilities is not very high.

There you go, I am not saying one is better, I am just noticing the differences I have noticed between the two situations.  Do you have any experiences with finding native speakers in your home land or just fun experiences with talking with a native?  Please share down below.

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Hi there

I cannot believe I almost forgot to talk about my favorite subject, which has entertained me so much during my holiday.

The relationship Thai people have towards water, bathroom and toilet paper is remarkable.

Now that I am back home I still have to remind myself that I am allowed to throw the toilet paper in the toilet instead of leaving it in the bins. (where you can actually see exactly what number you have just done and who is having her period. SIS*!)

For the first week I wasn’t too sure what all those signs meant. Toilet paper is toilet paper and sanitary towel is a sanitary towel.

It is their freaking fault if they confused me with cloth, stocking and napkin.

I lost interest.

By the way do you think it is easy to STOP doing something that you have always done all your life? They say it takes 1 month to get used to something and NOW that I got it, I am back at home. Great!

The worst is when you have to go to the toilet with your backpack and your trainers and they ask you to take you shoes off.

What? Why now? Why don’t you ask me when I have my flip-flops on?

Then you wear “their” slippers. What is the difference?

Anyway… You enter and there is water everywhere. The pavement is not clean and you DON’T trust leaving your backpack in the water and you decide to keep it on you. It will be quick, you think.

You enter the bathroom and you see they have squat toilets.

Faccarola!*

Now you have to knee, work on your legs, keep your 80 liters backpack with you while you carry your rucksack in front, doing abs too.

Are we giving birth or what?

You just want to hold on to something but the walls look dirty.

You wish you had drunk less water but it was humid. You are screwed any way.

If you happen to need to do number 2, it is better to rent a room for half an hour.

When the moment arrives that you need toilet paper, you ‘d better have prepared some before because in Thailand they love charging you for the bathroom without giving you toilet paper.

Sometimes they call it “donation”. Sometimes it turns into a specific amount.

When you finally finish your mission, you still have to get some coins ready to pay. What for? They should pay you for what you went through there.

It didn’t take me long to become a toilet paper thief. I never left a room for rent without unfolding the roll and placing it in the bag.

Tissues and serviettes are not really sold.

Thais love disguising toilet paper in plastic containers and offer them to you in restaurants as serviettes. Unbelievable.

When you don’t want to see it, you see it. When you need it , it is not there.

I still remember when I was staying at the famous room with no bathroom.

I urgently needed to do number 2 and I ran to the owner and asked for toilet paper and she said:

I cannot give it to you.

I said: Why?

And she said:

Because you room is cheap cheap,  I wanted to say.

And I will shit shit here.

THE END

As for the guy who got it out of me, Ben is 32 years old, and he spent the first 18 years of his life in Zimbabwe. Being a white guy who lived half of his life among a predominantly black population (his first language was Afrikaans, his second Swahili, and his third English, which he didn’t learn until he was 16), Ben approached race relations from an interesting angle. We dove right in.

He talked about some of the difficulties he had growing up in Zimbabwe, where his experiences in some ways mirrored mine growing up black in the United States. But it was what he said about the way Thai people react to him that left me somewhat shaken. He told me about how his sister, who lives in Bangkok with her boyfriend, applied for a teaching job here before her arrival, and was asked if she was a white African or a black African. Apparently, black Africans need not apply for teaching jobs with this particular organization, as a black African friend of Ben’s recently found out the hard, direct way.

Ben had experienced this particular brand of discrimination against black Africans firsthand, having had professional contact with people before his arrival who were visibly relieved when they realized that he’s white. According to Ben, “Are you a black African or a white African?” is a standard business question here. If they were afraid to ask, they came up with some excuse not to do business with him and magically changed their minds once they figured out that he is white.

As I listened, I thought about all of the people I’ve met since I’ve been in Thailand. I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a country with kinder natives, and I haven’t encountered any overt racism against me here. But I’ve always sensed that there might be another side to Thais, a darker side, one that I’m not privy to because most of my interaction with them is on the level of customer to service provider. People are pretty much paid to be nice to me in Bangkok.

My dealings with the folks who don’t serve me have been mostly positive as well, but on a superficial level. They observe the traditional Thai code of conduct, but I can’t say that they go out of their way to connect with me in any meaningful fashion. Even when I go out and local guys talk to me, I always sense it’s more out of curiosity about the exotic black guy. “Is he really as big as everyone says he is?” I’m basically a piece of dark meat, and white meat is clearly the preference. Most of them save the deeper communication for the European white guys with blue eyes. That’s what they really want.

Certain that he’d understand, perhaps even provide some valuable insight, I told Ben about the misgivings I’d been harboring over a conversation I had last week with a Thai-Chinese guy who works in my hotel who is good friends with a buddy of mine. He and I have known each other casually for months, and we always observe all the perfunctory niceties when we pass each other in the lobby or on the street or when we wind up in the same elevator, but this was the first time we’d had an actual conversation.

“Jeremy, are you from Africa?” he asked halfway into it.

I was shocked. Not because it was an uncalled for assumption but because somehow, astonishingly, I’d never been asked that before. During my six years living abroad, people had always assumed I was from anywhere but the motherland. In Argentina, I got (in the order of frequency) Brazil, Cuba, the UK, France, occasionally even the United States. If only I had a peso for every time I was asked, “Sos Brasilero?” — I’d never have to work again. In Australia, I generally got the United States, with some people actually pinpointing the Caribbean because they were native English speakers, so it was obvious to many of them that my accent places my origins outside the U.S. mainland.

In Thailand, though, people rarely make those assumptions out loud when dealing with me. It’s usually “Where are you from?” without betraying that they have the foggiest idea. So when I was asked if I’m from Africa, I was taken off guard. Not just because I’d never gotten that question before, but also because I couldn’t believe he had no idea. I thought everyone who works at Anantara knew. It’s sort of my thing around here, all anyone ever talks to me about.

“No, I’m from the United States, New York City, to be exact.”

“Can’t you tell by the way he talks?” our mutual friend, also Thai, chimed in. “He has a classic perfect American accent.”

I don’t, but I didn’t feel like arguing that point. I was still focused on the question. I wasn’t 100 percent sure, but I thought I noticed a shift in the guy who’d asked it, one that would have been imperceptible to most naked eyes. There was something about the look in his, the way it changed from one moment to the next, after I revealed the truth about my origins.

“He was raising his opinion of you,” Ben offered, taking the words right out of my mind. “He saw you as being more valuable because you are from the U.S. and not Africa.”

I don’t like to think the worst of people — even people who spend months thinking the worst of me — but somehow I knew that Ben was right. It’s why the conversation had been weighing down the recesses of my mind for the last week, and I felt that since Ben had finally said it, not me, there might be some justification for the way such a seemingly innocent but in reality, terribly loaded, question had made me feel.

One of my best acquaintances in Bangkok is a guy from Liberia, and shockingly, we’ve never even broached the subject of race. Memo to self: Don’t forget to bring it up the next time you see him. Coming from a place where he’s part of the majority to one where he’s among the minority, perhaps he’s not conditioned to over-analyze things the way Ben and I are. When someone asks him if he’s from Africa, maybe he’s genuinely impressed that they’re able to figure it out on their own.

I just hope he’s not looking for work.

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How many of us can sympathize with the picture on the left.  All of our lives are full of ups and downs and this only gets exaggerated when one does anything new or attempts to change anything in their life.  It is hard to learn something new and doing anything that disrupts our routine is painful.

We can be on top of the world one moment and down in the dumps another. These drastic changes are the biggest reasons we fail to follow through on new things we want to do in our lives.  Hows did your New Year’s resolutions work out this year?

It’s just too uncomfortable dropping, from such high heights to such low lows, that we would rather not do it again.  So when the first sign of  ”failure” happens, we loose all motivation we need to keep going.  There is a trick, though, that can help all people when they just want to give up.  The trick to getting out this *depression we put ourselves in might surprise you though.  Its Humility!!!
*I am not talking about bi-polar disorder, clinical depression, or any other psychological disease.  These are real chronic diseases that have nothing to do with attitude or motivation. 

Humility?!?  How thought that was only for those who are too proud?

Humility is the cure for pride, but it is also the cure for depression. Most people assume that the opposite of pride is humility.  This couldn’t be further from the truth.  The opposite of pride is depression.  Humility, however, is the perfect balance between these two extremes.  Humility allows us to be confident, but accepts that we are not always the best in all things.  We can also accept that we are not the best without having to beat ourselves up about not being the best.  You see how Humility works?  It helps you balance that seesaw of pride and depression and gives you that quite confidence that you need to be successful.

Haven’t you ever felt down before? 

Of course I have, let me share just one of many.  My first days in Thailand as a missionary for my church was a major rollercoaster. I got to the country after completing a 2 month intensive course on how to be a missionary in Thailand, which was mostly about how to speak Thai.  I studied and practiced hard and I felt really confident in my abilities.  I, along with a few others, even talked to a very patient Thai person on the airplane ride to the country.  He went on and on about how amazing our ability was to speak so much in such a short time(which I still do agree with).  I was extremely confident and, to be honest, probably a bit proud of my abilities to speak Thai.

Then I went to my first area, Surin.  We missionaries always go in pairs and I was paired up with someone who had been in Surin for a while.  We went to our first appointment of the day and sat down on the floor to teach this man about our church.  My companion asked me to start teaching, but I only got a few words in before this man started laughing.  I don’t mean soft giggles to himself, he was full on belly laughing.  No matter what, whenever I talked, this guy acted like it was the biggest joke of his life.  My companion had to do all the talking, and I mean ALL of the talking, just so we could get through the lesson we planned to teach him.  This was the start of a major roller coaster down.

I soon learned, that this man was the exception and did not represent how Thai people really act.  For the most part, Thai people are very accommodating and helpful, especially when someone takes the time to learn their language.  Thai people actually helped me stay humble on my 2 year mission to their country.  The moment I was really good at Thai someone would remind me in their own way that I didn’t speak very clearly.  Then another person would remind me how much I could do and how they appreciated me speaking to them in their language.  Thailand helped me stay humble.

So how can we be humble?

There are a couple of things, but the first thing is to recognize that the seesaw exists.  It’s easier to balance if you know that you need to balance.  Pay attention to your thoughts and actions.  A great thing about having a wife is that she supports me and loves me, but she doesn’t let me get to proud or depressed.

The next thing is to be ”Thai” and find people who are “Thai” as well.   What do I mean by this?  Just like Thai people helped me stay humble, you can help yourself the same way.  As you get too proud/down about yourself recognize whats happening and counter attack to keep yourself balanced.  Find friends or colleagues who will do the same.

One of the easiest ways I have found to do this is to keep a proper perspective.  A drop of water can look like an ocean if you focus too closely.  Stand back, look at what you have done so far.  Acknowledge that you may not yet have arrived, but you are closer than you were before.  Perspective is an amazing thing.

It may seem easier said then done, but it just like any other skill in life, it can be developed.  Humble people were not born humble.  Humility is not a result of circumstances.  Humility is skill attained by practice and hard work.

Anything else?

Yes there is one last thing I recommend.  It is more of a preventive measure than anything else. The third thing I recommend is to not set yourself up for failure!  This is the biggest killer of motivation that I know.  It is probably the biggest reason none of us keep our New Years Resolutions and all our little projects stay partially completed.

Tell me if this sounds like you? You decide you are going to do project X and you’re  so excited that you go out and buy 5 videos, 3 books, 2 apps and a new outfit.  You schedule it in that you are now going to do 2 hours a day of project X, and then you hit the ground running!  At first its awesome, but then you miss a day.  You didn’t try to but it just happened.  Maybe it was because the car broke down or the kids were fighting, or your best mate flew in and you haven’t seen him/her in 8 years.  Basically, “life” eventually happens and now you are a day behind!

So what do you do? You double your efforts and what was 2 hours a day worth of project X is now 3 hours.  Then life happens again two days later  and now you are even further behind. Not wanting to give up, you triple your efforts and work even harder, but now you never seem to get caught up because you can’t seem squeeze more than 3 hours a day worth of Project X without something else important in your life falling  by the way side. That is when you tell yourself, “I am too busy and this just isn’t possible now,” and then you give up.

Does this sound like you?  It sounds like me!  Up until recently, this is exactly what happened to all my little projects that I started.  Then I learned a different way of working through your day-to-day goals.  You need to set a minimum goal that you hold yourself accountable for.  This means you look at yourself and say to yourself, honestly, even if all hell breaks loose and the end of the world is upon us, I can still be accountable for X minutes a day to work on project X.

For me, right now,  I hold myself accountable to do 15 mins a day of Spanish learning.   I know I can find 15 mins a day on my worst day, to do something spanish related. It may be small, but is do able, no matter what happens.  I also keep it general so I can be flexible in what I do.

Does this mean that I don’t do more than 15 mins a day of language study?  No freakin’ way.  I usually can find an hour to hour and a half of language study.  Sometimes even more.  What this does do is keep me from trying to play catch up all the time.  15 mins a day minimum means that anything else I do is just bonus.  No I didn’t get to watch that movie in spanish, but I did listen to a podcast while doing the dishes.

One final thought be fore I go

Once again, being humble is not a characteristic, it is a skill.  Yes some people are naturally more humble than others, just like some are more athletic than others.  All that means is that you need to work harder at it.  The more you practice, the easier it is to keep that seesaw balanced.

Anyone else have recommendations or suggestions?  Things you do to keep motivated?  Share them in the comment section below.

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The beautiful Ya 

After a few days of living in Chachoengsao, Lauren and I were at our local Starbucks (aka outdoor coffee cart) for our usual $0.80 latte trying to communicate with some guys sitting nearby when a girl around our age came out of her house and started speaking to us…in English.  At that point, this was the first time we had heard a Thai person speak English, and we were beyond ecstatic. She is a private tutor, and she asked us right away if we’d like to tutor some of her students in English.  We agreed and went home excited to make a little extra dough.

Little did we know that Ya would soon become a very good friend to us.  It’s really hard to describe the Thai people and their culture of kindness adequately. It sounds like a lie when I say that almost everyone is kind and friendly and wants to help you, but it’s actually true.  There have been very few times when a Thai person has been anything less than unbelievably friendly and caring.  And Ya is no exception. She is the epitome of a kind and generous Thai person.

In the short time that we’ve known her, she has: dropped everything to give us a ride to dinner on her motorbike, brought mango and sticky rice to our apartment (after revealing my disappointment that I couldn’t find mango because: it’s out of season, they had mango fest in April just weeks before I arrived, and the floods last year did a number on their produce), bought a birthday/welcome cake for us, invited us on two trips with her family, taken us to dinner, taken us to the market, hung out with my family, and fed us all sorts of delicious foods. She is simply amazing. And on top of that, she is fun, funny, incredibly smart and beautiful.

Recently Ya graduated from university, and I was lucky enough to be invited to go to her graduation.  I feel like I’ve known her for a long time, as she has an ease and naturalness about her that make you feel comfortable right away. She pretty much runs Chachoengsao and has raised/tutored half the students here.  At only 23, she has a successful business in tutoring, and she is looking to expand now that she has graduated.  She works her buns off and because she tutors students who are in school during the day, her schedule is opposite that of all of her friends’ schedules. She works nights and weekends, and if a student has an exam, she’ll work with them until midnight and then get up the next morning to work with them again before school.  She is incredible.  I am so happy I met her that she deserves her own post

This last week has been a rough one for me. I haven’t gotten much sleep. Friday night / Saturday morning I got six hours and that was the most I got that week. I only got one hour last night and am having a hard time staying awake now; but I won’t go to bed until a few hours later in hopes that I get a good night’s sleep. For all the other night’s last week, I averaged only about three hours each night. I have a lot that I need to get done but during the day I am so tired that I get almost nothing done. I didn’t even go to church this morning – I would have slept through the service and probably caused a scene with my snoring.

I have never married, and lived with a woman rarely during my younger years. I miss having a woman around now, motivation to get done what needs to get done if nothing else. But when I was actively looking to get married I could find no woman who could put up with me and the USAF at the same time. I can understand, I can be hard to get along with and the military has one of the highest divorce rates around. It seemed like divorce and adultery were so rampant that it is no surprise (at least to me) why I got discouraged about marriage. There was one woman I seriously considered marrying but she would not leave Thailand and I would not stay there for the rest of my life.

Now, don’t get me wrong here I like Thailand and the Thai people. I always found them friendly and interesting. I like airplanes, one of the reasons I joined the USAF, and there was one bartender in our squadron hooch bar at Ubon who was interested in airplanes also, but only the ones that had been flown by the Royal Thai Air Force. I combed through my aircraft books for aircraft such as the F8F Bearcat that had been used by the RTAF and we would discuss them. There were many other things we discussed because the Thais used so few aircraft types that I could find, I just cannot remember what it was that we discussed elsewise.

We need it to rain a lot more here in Tucson. Yes, I know that there is a drought all over the country, but we here in Tucson have a head start – our drought has been going on for years, at least ten and maybe twenty; I’m just too tired to remember or look it up. We have had a fairly good amount of rain this year, we only had four or five inches last year and our 30-year average is supposed to be about 12 inches. Tucson is what is referred to as a High Desert. We average over 10 inches but not by much. We are ahead of last year by about two and a half inches and about two inches below our average right now. More would be nice and is desperately needed to try to make up for the shortfall of the last several years. Right now it is just hot and humid and I am miserable. Luckily I have refrigeration air conditioning in my apartment so I stay cool inside.

I spoke with my gaming group yesterday and explained the basic ideas I wanted to have for my campaign that I want to run. Now I have to start working hard on creating it since I am going to create it from scratch. One member of the group does not like the system I want to use so I may offer another one next Saturday, if I rmeember. Otherwise I have the system and the campaign start and finish. I just need to fill in the middle enough to have a game ready every week for at least a year and maybe as many as five.

There is a petition on change.org that I wish to reccomend. The petition asks that the Department of Veterans Affairs make service in Thailand just as presumptive for Agent Orange damage as service in Viet Nam. Agent Orange and other herbacides were used extensively in Thailand to control plant growth around perimeter of the bases and inside the bases around the flight-line, where I worked, as well. I spent the month of April 1970 guarding the perimeter of Udorn RTAFB as a Security Police Augmentee as well as working on the flight-line for the year I was stationed there; and I was stationed at Ubon RTAFB as well for the last half of 1973 and the forst half of 1974; and for the first four months of 1972 I was duty on temporary at U-Tapao RTNB as well. This may be what contributed to my diabetes. Pleas go the change.org, find the petition and sign it.

What I’m watching: I have finished Monty Python and the Indiana Jones Triolgy (I don’t have the last one, The Crystal Skull) and I think I’ll just watch the movies I get from Blockbuster until I get the campaign done, at least done enough to start it.

What I’m reading: Since GURPS is the game system I plan to use, I’m reading those books almost exclusively now.

What I’m writing: I got nothing written last week, too tired from lack of sleep. But now I am going to focus on Arlun (the campaign setting) for a while.

We started the day with our awesome breakfast again, and was picked up at 8:30am by the Sealand Camp people to take us to Phang Nga. At one point, the bus stopped on the side of the road in front of a field and I was thinking to myself, “yup that’s it – we’re being sold. Just run guys and may the odds be ever in your favour”. Luckily, it was just a bus swap over.

Our guide, Tum, was everything people perceive Thai people to be – kind, funny, generous, sweet and, of course, complete with a beaming smile. He was so lovely. He took us through the plan for the day during our 45+ minute bus ride to base camp. It was a typically bumpy bus ride which rendered Maggatron very ill. To be honest, I wasn’t feeling crash hot either. It’s a good thing we’re not going on any jet boats. There’d be chunder craziness.

First up was white water rafting. The steerers of each boat were so cheeky, splashing us with water at any given moment, trying to pull us in and even at one point throwing a live frog from boat to boat. Watching S cower at the end of the boat at our captain’s feet was classic. It was so much fun and now my arm’s are aching from all the “FORWARD! FORWARD! BACKWARD! HOLD ON! NO HOLD ON NO FORWARD!!!” rowing. I feel like we were given extremely conflicting messages just for kicks.

After about 40 minutes of laughter and furious paddling, we went back to base camp to prepare for the next part – elephant trekking and swimming in the waterfalls. I think the elephant trekking was my friends’ favorite part of the day and with good reason. It is a beautiful experience to ride an elephant and they are amazing, intelligent creatures. The best elephant experience I have had was in Chiang Mai, up north. But this is right up there because at one point, we were riding on the elephant’s neck without a rider. Maggatron and I got the elephant who always stopped to eat and shared Maggatron’s name. Another Aussie on the tour (we made up most of the tour. Aussies are everywhere when you travel) cried it was the best thing she has ever done in her life.

We fed our elephants some bananas to say thank you and then we were taken to the waterfall. It was the perfect way to end the day. The water was clear and refreshing, and there were fish swimming with us. We were even allowed to jump off a rock cliff into the water which felt unbelievable. I wanted to swim to the base of the waterfall but I was at risk of a serious wardrobe malfunction and decided to not expose myself to all of these strangers.

Lunch was served! And it was delicious. Most tour included lunches are pretty mediocre. But I’ve found the Thai ones have always been outstanding. Maybe because I just really like Thai food. But let’s be real – I like all food so when I say mediocre, I really mean “nom nom nom” rather than “NOM NOM NOM!!!”

It was time to say goodbye to the mountain we were on and make our way back to our hotel. We were all so completely knackered from such a jam packed day but it was so worth it. We took a dip in our pool when we got back home before heading to dinner. Dinner was at a place called Phen’s Restaurant along Nai Yang beach. I’m glad we took a stroll that way because there were a fair few restaurants and bars. Quiet and mainly filled with families but it’s good to know they’re there for us to explore.

S is passed out on the couch, Maggatron and I are watching a doco and Mushy Bee is doing her girly thang. It was barely 9:00pm when we decided to call it a night even though we thought we’d be heading to the hotel bar (where I saw some promising friends to be made). Not tonight. Tonight I just want to sleep to prepare for tomorrow. Tomorrow, it’s time to connect with our inner child and get silly at Splash Jungle Water Park! I love water theme parks. Excitement!

And if you’re wondering what we had stuck in our heads ALL bus ride and ALL freaking day:

Enjoy.

I am currently undergoing the WORST vacation of my life at Bangkok, Thailand. Our passports were stolen at the market a on Friday (8th June 2012) and after retracing our steps and several unsuccessful attempts  over the weekend and unfriendly responses from wax-doll faced Thai people, on Monday – we got in touch with our Embassy and started out on the regular process to fly back as  soon as possible.

Stuck in a foreign country is no fun – when you do not feel safe. Very frequently Thai people on the streets come up to you – smile a fake smile and ask you where you come from. The same goes with taxi drivers, the tuk-tuk fellows (I will write a separate blog on the tuk-tuk buggers too!) The minute they know you are from India – people smirk in groups, they have a demeaning attitude (whether you come from the North or the South), shopkeepers refuse to give your discount or bargain, waiters at the hotels refuse to give you fingerbowls ( all the time bowing and placing finger bowls to a group of Westerners at the next table). The only thing that the one-track minded Thai people understand are :-

1. The colour of your skin
2. The language of the ‘Baht’

The Thai women are increasingly greedy – and the expression in their eyes, change from being extremely friendly and flirtatious to being downright rude and cruel depending on the wad of notes you flash before them. I went to a shop – where the owner and the saleswomen (all Thais) asked my sister and me  the cost of the watch I was wearing,the T-shirts we wore, the areas we went shopping to, the hotel we stayed in – and a lot of uneasy and probing questions, so that they can weigh you as a customer. The minute they figure out you might probably be a window-shopper, their demeanor towards you changes – they stop short of asking you to ‘get out’.

The worst experience I have had is that of physical assault in a market AFTER purchasing a couple of wallets at Indra square, Prathunam. AFTER I paid the woman  the amount due – we wanted to check the pieces she had given us. She started abusing us – saying that we were ‘just Indians’ and should NOT check the pieces that we had already purchased! On more heated discussions – the Thai saleswoman threw wallets at me, in a fit of rage – asking me to get out of her shop, and hit my aged Father with a stick- telling him “to GO TO INDIA” ! If this is not racism, what is!

I refuse to spend any of my hard-earned money in this place filled with pimps, prostitutes and disgustingly behaved people. My expectations of this wonderful country – and its history have definitely come crashing down. The self -centered, manipulative and avaricious Thai people have sure lost my respect. And I will most definitely boycott Thailand-made products as much as I can!

P.S. Still in Bangkok and waiting to leave as soon as possible

http://www.ajarnforum.net/vb/the-virtual-pub/7365-why-are-the-thais-so-racist-towards-indians.html

I’ll be honest, I’ve been stuck at procrastination station for a while about writing the obligatory “I’m back!” post– mostly because I don’t know what to start, middle or end with.

I’ll start with the fact that I love Thailand, I’ve been twice before this and each time I go back I’m filled with more love for the place. I love the food, the people who are so friendly and welcoming, I love the inexpensive gifts that I can bring back to my family & friends (even though I suck at bargaining and actually think they feel bad for me for it. I was once out-bargained by a shop keeper, offering me a lower price than I tried to offer him), I love the fact that the first word most people learn in Thai is “thank you” (“Kob-kun-ka/krub”) and how much the locals appreciate this small gesture. I could easily live in Thailand forever.

For the first three days I was there, when The Boy was working, I was eating yummy local dishes (I may have overdosed on Satay Kai a little bit), sipping cocktails, swimming and tanning. When he wasn’t working, we were eating (yes, there was lots of eating, no matter what was happening) or drinking (yeah, that too), smoking or having sex. Mostly there was lots and lots of sex in-between pretty much all of these activities. By the day I was supposed to leave I was so tender and worn out. Hey, at least I worked off all those nom-tastic Thai dishes. Literally, though, sitting hurt, standing hurt, every orifice on my body had been maxed out. At this point we thought we only had three days with each other, so I guess we were just making the most of it.

On the night before I was supposed to leave there was a huge power-cut all along Chaweng beach, our entire area was in darkness… This happened pretty much just as we got into our hotel room. In almost complete darkness, except for a square shining through the window, silhouetting leaf shapes along the wall, The Boy told me he loved me. It was a beautiful moment, and I said it back. We cuddled on the bed for a good while, when he then proclaimed “So you’re my girlfriend now”. FUCKING YES. I am never the girlfriend. I always seem to be the one who’s lead on to believe she’ll become the girlfriend someday, but never really get there. . About freakin’ time.

So, we went Sex –> Love –> Relationship. It’s a little bit backwards or twisted compared to traditional relationships, but it works for us… And as long as all three are there together, what else really matters?

Operation Koh Samui was a success.  The boy has become The Boyfriend, instead of having to go six weeks without him, I now only have two left (which I can handle much better) and everything is dandy.
I’ve included a lot of the important aspects of my trips, there were a great deal many more anecdotes, but I think I’ll hang onto them for a rainy day– they’ll make this page some day.

That’s all for now lovelies.

Love,
M

The other night a few of us wanted to walk down to the night market in Old Town (Lop Buri) for dinner. About halfway there it started pouring. We took some shelter while we decided whether to plod on, or head back. Up for the adventure, and because there didn’t appear to be many other dinner options along our walk into town, we kept going.

At one point, while we were hiding under an awning, there were a couple Thai’s laughing at us crazy farang (foreigners) out in the rain, so they pulled out benches and had us sit and wait it out for a bit in their shop.

After it let up a slightly, we resumed our walk into town. Dinner was uneventful, and the market was basically shut down because of the torrential downpour.

On our way back we once again took shelter under the awning of a closed golf equipment store. By then we were all thoroughly soaked, cold, with toes chaffing against sandals and wanting nothing more than a hot shower and warm tea.

Low and behold, out walks the shop owner carrying chairs for us to sit on while we wait for the current round of buckets of rainwater to cease.

We were all amazed, happy to rest our chaffed feet, and lamented that something like that would never happen at home. It would be more likely that the shop owner would come out and either shoo us for loitering or talk about how bad the rain is before heading right back inside – making sure to lock the door behind them.

Ready to head out again, we made it about 15 feet when a couple on scooters stop us to ask where we’re going, offering all 3 of us a ride home.

Once again, when would a stranger stop on the street and offer another stranger a ride on the back of their bike? (A splash from an oncoming vehicle is more like it!)

I’m sure that we’re getting the special treatment because we are farang, but because Thai’s really do hate walking anywhere, let alone in the rain, it’s possible that this courtesy extends to anyone they see walking along a dark street at night.

This is just a one night example of Thai hospitality, but I will truly remember the small things like this when I return home. And I vow to be that person that shocks a stranger with their friendliness and helpfulness.  Pay it forward!

You know you’ve been thoroughly entertained when, over the course of an afternoon in Chiangmai, Thailand, you’ve seen elephants score soccer goals, shoot hoops and paint landscapes on a canvas with their trunks. The monkey business was no less impressive. One of them lifted weights, another showcased monkeys’ numerical skills (someone in the audience of five would pick a number — say, “seven” — and the monkey would pick the card with “7″ on it, even when it was face down), and yet another one, “Monkey Jordan,” shot hoops and made them all except for one. (What is it with Thai people and basketball, anyway?)

The animal shows made me cheer and cringe, too. The pets appeared to be happy and eager to show off how smart they are, but something about it seemed off, like their primary purpose in life is to entertain us. The chains around the monkeys’ necks didn’t help. They only highlighted the fact that they are the prisoners and the Thai people who ran the conservation centers, as loving and gentle as they might be, are their captors.

I tried to forget all of this as Lori and I sat on Oz, the beautiful 20-year-old elephant who took us on an hour-long ride up and down the mountains of Chiangmai. We sat in a compartment chained around Oz’s body while Deng, a 22-year-old local who has been Oz’s daily companion for four years, sat on his back, riding him like one would ride a horse and assuring us that despite our weight on Oz’s back, the elephant was not only comfortable but happy, too.

Aside from the part where they played around in the water, the tigers that Lori spent an hour petting at the tiger conservation center had far less taxing things to do than entertain us. For the most part, they lounged around their living rooms, waiting to receive guests, who would pay from 420 baht (or $14) to nearly 2,000 ($66) for the honor of petting them. (Never fear, as one of the workers, an American expat, told Lori, they are all under 2 years old, which is the age when they become too unpredictable not to pose a threat to interlopers.)

By the time we left, Lori was tearing up over everything she’d seen. My eyes were dry, but I was choked up, too. Not over the animals, though. As impressive as they were, they weren’t the main cause of my emotional state. It was the Thai people who worked with them; Danny, the guy who had spent all day driving us around from attraction to attraction in the van; the precious Thai children we’d seen throughout the day. I couldn’t believe how beautiful and well behaved they were, like perfect little angels.

I’ve been living in Thailand for the better part of the last 10 months, and for the first time since my arrival, in Chiangmai I felt that I finally got the Thai people. I’d known that they were kind, friendly and gentle, but this was the first time I truly realized how content they are, how proud they are of their heritage and their country.

Here was Deng, a 22 year old who lives to take care of an elephant. His home is on the grounds of the conservation center, with his elephant charge, in conditions that I assumed were somewhere around half a star, making 4,000 baht (roughly $130) a month. He hasn’t had a day off in four years, yet he seemed like one of the happiest people I’ve met in a long time. He has no girlfriend (or boyfriend), and his parents live far away in Myanmar, yet I didn’t get the impression that he felt alone at all. Even if he hadn’t been so friendly and gorgeous, he still would have been unforgettable.

As I listened to Deng try to tell us in English what life was like for him and Oz, I thought of the lives I’d left behind, in the U.S., in Argentina, in Australia, even in Bangkok. I thought about the people there, the ones who are so obsessed with making money and spending it. They look for happiness on the job, in accumulating wealth, in material possessions, in overpriced homes, in picking up strangers in crowded bars and clubs, in chasing celebrity (and celebrities). So few of them seem truly happy to me.

Mikey, the hyperactive 2-year-old monkey circling the small raised platform, barely stopping to catch his breath, and Sonny, the 4-year-old who knew exactly what to do when he was told to “kiss” visitors, seemed more full of joie de vivre than any Western human being I can remember seeing in years.

And all they had were the chains around their necks.

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking to someone about Ellen Burstyn’s performance in Requiem for a Dream, a 12-year-old movie that, for no apparent reason, keeps popping up in my conversations these days.

The second time it happened, the other person, a notable Australian actor, screenwriter and film director, was raving about Burstyn, who was fresh in his mind because he had just seen her at a speaking engagement in Melbourne. She was fresh in my mind because a few nights earlier, I’d watched The Last Picture Show, the 1971 film for which she received the first of her six Oscar nominations, on TV. (She won Best Actress for 1974′s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, the film that later spawned the TV series Alice.)

Burstyn, not Julia Roberts, the filmmaker insisted, deserved to win the 2001 Oscar for Best Actress. I concurred (also agreeing that Central Station‘s Fernanda Montenegro, not Shakespeare in Love‘s Gwyneth Paltrow, should have won two years earlier), with one adjustment: It should have been a tie, because Julia Roberts deserved that prize for Erin Brockovich just as much as Burstyn did. Yes, Burstyn’s was the showier performance, but that doesn’t necessarily make it better.

Thus began our debate over the merits and demerits of Roberts’ performance. I was particularly moved by Roberts in the driving scene during which Erin was talking to her boyfriend on the phone, listening to him tell her about her daughter’s first steps or first words or something monumental that she had missed, and Erin began to silently weep. In the recent Newsweek actress round table, Charlize Theron talked about how hard it is to emote during driving scenes, which as I think back on that deceptively simple Erin Brockovich sequence, makes it even more remarkable.

The Australian filmmaker was unimpressed.

“It must be an American thing,” he concluded. “They seem to be the only ones who like that performance.” Typical Australian, I thought to myself, taking any opportunity to disparage Americans. If Roberts’ performance was such an “American thing,” then why was she named Best Actress by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association and the British Academy of Film and Television Arts. I scolded him for his typically Aussie attitude — My tastes are mine, not America’s — not even realizing that I was making a similar sweeping generalization about Australians and their anti-American fervor.

The sort-of-ugly truth is that for anyone who travels, particularly a journalist with sharp powers of observation and a need to organize everything, it’s hard not to make generalizations about the people and cultures you encounter on the road. The secret is to be open-minded enough to look past them and not lazily fall back on them every time you see or hear something you don’t like, particularly for journalists and filmmakers, who should be as unfettered by preconceptions and misconceptions as possible.

I’ve made a few blanket statements of my own about Australians, several of which my friend and former colleague Traceye shot down when she was visiting Melbourne a few weeks ago, while making generalizations of her own. For the most part, she found Australians to be somewhat cold and hard to get to know.

The hard to get to know part I understood, having spent months trying to break down their walls before losing interest and giving up completely. They’re not touchy-feely the way Argentines are. Unlike in Buenos Aires, you can leave a room in Australia without having to kiss every stranger in it on the cheek.

But on a superficial level — offering directions, chatting you up from a bar stool — I always found them to be friendly and charming. Customer service workers, though, with the exception of unfailingly friendly supermarket cashiers, were hit and miss. For every one who offered service with a smile, there seemed to be several, particularly bartenders (a profession, which, in most countries demands a somewhat personal touch, but not there), who could barely be bothered to serve up more than the basic requirements.

Which is completely the opposite of the experience I’ve had in Bangkok, where people are so friendly I often worry that I’m not being nice enough. The only exception is on the road. Taxi drivers are as obnoxious here as they are in any large city, and pedestrians never have the right of way with impatient automobile drivers. (Again, the opposite of my experience in Australia, where cars always stopped to allow me to pass, even when I didn’t want them to.)

But elsewhere, Thai people, especially the employees in my hotel/apartment complex, can make me feel like the most important person in the world for all of five seconds. I can’t walk through the lobby of the Anantara Bangkok Sathorn without encountering half a dozen smiling personnel, assuming the pray position with their hands and bowing, which means that I have to do the same.

Sometimes I simply smile and wave, but I’ve begun to wonder if they understand the meaning of the “wave.” Maybe they think I’m brushing them off. Today, the man I bought grilled chicken from on the street, smiled enthusiastically and actually squeezed my bicep as he handed me my change.

I know some people like that kind of attentiveness, and usually, as with the bicep-squeezing grilled-chicken guy, I go along with it. But there are days when I just don’t want to turn my frown upside down. I can fake it, because I’ve had a lot of practice, most of it reluctantly gained. Over the course of 11 years living in doormen buildings in New York City, I’d come to despise having to muster up a smile and a “hello” upon entering and leaving when sometimes all I wanted was to walk in and out unnoticed.

Even the guy at the entrance to the driveway of the Anantara seems more devoted to smiling and bowing at guests passing by than directing traffic. He bows at me when I leave to go the supermarket, and he repeats the gesture when I return five minutes later. Once when I tried to look away, he actually stepped in front of me so that I wouldn’t miss his welcome.

I can’t decide whether this guy — who can’t possibly be so sweet off the clock, but then, he seems to work 24/7 — is sincerely super-friendly, or if he’s making fun of me, or if he thinks I must be some black American celebrity whom he just doesn’t recognize. I pick one depending on my mood that day. And on the days when I just don’t feel like bowing or being bowed to, I exit through a side entrance and leave the property from the other side of the building, where there are no smiling, bowing employees, just the smell of trash and a deserted alley.

It’s not exactly five-star splendor, but on those days when service with a smile — and a bow — are the last things on my wish list, it’s the perfect escape route.

One of the first responses to a new culture is “everything is so weird”  Since weird is a little harsh, we recommend  you use the word “different”, because we all evaluate culture through our own cultural lens – The following cartoon illustrates this perfectly!

Different Lenses!

It doesn’t take very long before you feel like you don’t fit into your new surroundings.  Don’t worry!  ISM will teach you how learn to adapt, live and maybe even love your new culture.

ISM’s training is 4 short weeks but jammed packed with VERY practical, hands on training.  We want this internship to be an experience you are equipped to handle! We plan on making it informative, creative, challenging and fun!  All our instructors are booked, ready and waiting.

Week One – Culture Week

Your first week at ISM will give you an overview of what it means to work and live in another culture.  This includes understanding the specifics of the South East Asian Cultures and how to respond and embrace the differences.  You will learn how to call a cab, and it doesn’t include whistling, how to say hello, and which utensils to use when you eat, or not!   You will also learn how to recognize and deal with cultural stress and culture shock.   When you feel like going to bed at 2pm in the afternoon it may have nothing to do with staying up until 4 am the night before.  We will also help you learn how to not punch the guy who butts in front of you in the line  or not to cry when people look at you with a kind, sweet smile and say “YOU ARE FAT!” (this is important information!)

Culture Week also includes visiting the Grand Palace, eating in Thai, Indian and Japanese restaurants and getting a feel for what the city of Bangkok is all about.  You will discover things you’ve never even heard of before!

We have one of our favourite Thai teachers coming to give you one language class and then we will send you out on the streets to practice.  It will be entertaining at least for the Thai people you meet.

One of our Thai pastors will give you an up close and personal look on how Nationals view missionaries.  He will talk about the good, the bad and maybe the ugly.  We’ve asked him to be honest!  He said he’d love to, and was even happy to name names.  We told him thanks, but maybe he shouldn’t be that THAT honest.  We believe this will be an eye opening class.

You will also learn how to share your faith with Buddhists and Hindus.  This won’t include all the details of the religions, but knowing what to share and how it sounds to the listener.

One Global Worker will also come and share her insights about living among Thai people from her vast wealth of knowledge which includes over 30 years of experience.

So that’s a sneak peek to Culture week. We expect ISM  and your internship/service to be an experience of a lifetime!  By the time you are finished training we hope you will be ready to serve with your eyes open and your heart bursting with compassion & love.