The Dogs


Sleeping wherever.

My day starts at 5:00am and I’m riding my bike to work by 6:15am.  This time of year, it’s still pretty dark at that hour.  But, it has been getting lighter each day and I decided to forgo turning on my hi-tech lights that my safety-conscious husband installed for me.  Not this morning.  Lovely dusky light.  Street lights dimming, sun-rising – the market lights are more than enough to guide my way.

Until I round the corner onto an unlit street.  My quiet mood spikes to high alert when I find myself heading straight toward a large sleeping dog.  I swerve at the very last moment and thankfully miss him.  Damn dog!  Sound asleep in the middle of road. Doesn’t move a muscle.   We know the ol’ adage. “Let sleeping dogs lie.”  Emergency averted.


This is the guy. Right in the middle of the road.

Soi dogs.  Street dogs.  Here in Thailand they are everywhere.  I’ve spent some time watching them since we moved here 8 months ago.  I have a low grade fear of dogs based on my encounter  at age 7 with Sweet Pea, the German Shepard owned by Mrs. Spudoni, my piano teacher.   Needless to say, my love for strange dogs and piano for that matter, never really developed.


Same spot, same dog. Right by the market.

Congregating around sources of food, (the markets, near scooter taxi shacks, around gates with guards, outside the 7-11) Soi dogs’ personalities run the gamut:  depressed, angry, impulsive, apathetic, bold, passive.  They are more often than not, mangy and flee-bitten and very skinny.  I’ve noticed that some are loners while some run in packs. The loners are very different from the dogs that have companions.   The loner dogs rarely bark.  Often, you can walk within inches of these dogs and they don’t move or even appear to notice you.  They will sometimes look up – but, with the tired, worn face of resignation.  These are the ones lying in the middle of the road, or trotting in front of cars.   I’ve actually only felt threatened by Soi dogs twice since I’ve been here.  Both times, the dogs appeared to be “guarding” a territory.   Perhaps it was because these dogs had some sort of connection with another dog or a human.  I am struck with the commonality between people and dogs.  Disconnected: homeless, alone, sick, apathetic.  Connected: energetic, assertive, loyal, purposeful.

It’s not pretty and it’s not what I think is right.   But, I admire these dogs.  Resilient. Scrappy as hell.   They have figured out a way.   They know who is a friend and who is a foe in the first seconds of an encounter.   They are cautious:  watching and waiting patiently.  And, when you are deemed a friend – a connection – they may offer a quirky dog “smile” accompanied by soft eyes.  These dogs know.

So tomorrow, I’m slowing down and turning on my headlight.  It’s the least I can do.


Scrappy as hell.  Offering a dog “smile”.





Me and Hickory

About 30 years ago, I was on the city bus in Seattle.  Coming or going to work, I don’t remember.  I do remember the woman who sat next to me that day.  I remember when she got on the bus and she was looking for a seat – our eyes met, and I must have smiled or something because she walked past several empty seats to sit next to me.  And, as she got closer, it was clear that something was wrong.  

Within a matter of minutes she had introduced herself and explained that she liked to ride the bus, to nowhere in particular really.  She said she often rode the bus for hours each day and said it was the only real relief she had found since her husband had died almost a year before.  She talked about his clothes, his habits, their routines as a couple.  Her eyes would quickly well up with tears, and just as quickly sparkle with pleasant emotions from remembering.  And then, she was gone.  Hurriedly getting up and getting off the bus with purpose-driven energy.

After 33 years of marriage, Rick and I have never spent more than a few weeks apart from one another.  And, today he flew back to the U.S. for a month.  As I write this, it seems so silly for me to be feeling the strong emotions I have.  Embarrassed that at age 54 I have never really been on my own.  Embarrassed to be overwhelmed by the prospect of 30 days without him.  Like the woman on the bus, I think about our habits and routines that are as comfortable as an old shoe.  Our unspoken language and experiences known only by the two of us.  Our natural ebb and flow; give and take. Our shared silence and quiet smiles.  Living life with my best friend and lover.  I am haunted by the prospect that if this is what it feels like for him to simply leave for a month, what will it be like for the one who remains when the first one dies?  Because it will happen.  

Today I am alone.  I have decided to sit with my emotions and feel them.  To allow myself to dive into the ocean by myself.  To sit in the bathroom stall at work and cry; to sleep at 4pm; to ache; to smile.

Today, I am alone. 


Dinner for one.


Sour Spicy Yummy

“What are ya eating, John?” I called down the hall at school.  John, 11, turns around and smiles. He’s holding a snack package with a kid friendly design and Thai writing. “It’s my favorite Miss Melissa!  Do you want some?” I walk closer.  It looks interesting. Long brownish strips on sticks.  They look a little like beef jerky. “What is it?” I ask as I reach out my hand to accept his invitation to share.  He says something in Thai and I smile innocently.  Then I take a bite.  Fish.  Dried fish.  Salty, crunchy and VERY fishy.


Salty Fish Snack. Thanks John!

One of the things that you will notice when you come to Thailand is that while people are generally smaller than Westerners in overall stature, they also tend to be much more trim.  Both Rick and I lost weight almost immediately after we arrived. Literally.  Within about a month, I lost almost 10 lbs and Rick lost 20.  And, it’s not like we were dieting or doing anything with an intention of weight loss. After years at a certain size, it was weird to move down a notch and stay there.  Because of this, I’ve actually done some unscientific research on the subject.  And after 7 months here, I’ve got a few ideas.  

More appears to be better. You can get food EVERYWHERE. Food stalls cover almost every square inch of unclaimed space on the streets.  Grilled pork, chicken and shrimp.  Whole grilled and salted fish “pops”.  Fruit cups with watermelon, mango and papaya. Fresh coconut hacked open for a creamy drink.  Little sit-downs with spicy salad or hot noodle soup.  Scooters with grills attached like a side car that drive down the street.  Stuck in traffic?  No problem.  A vendor will sell you little snack bags while you wait in grid-lock.  Kind of like a drive-in on the freeway.  A while back when we went to the beach on a long weekend, I met a mom of three young children.  I said something about bringing snacks to the beach since kids are hungry all the time.  She gave me a puzzled look and said, “why do I need to bring snacks?  There is food everywhere!” And, so her kids snacked on grilled meat, fruit and little cups of soup.

Eating all the time seems to help.  I get to school every morning around 6:30am and the eating has begun.  We have about 15 food vendors in our school canteen.  The variety is awesome:  Korean, Thai, Western, Noodle Shop, fruit smoothies and little pancake treats.  My friend, John, is there every morning and always has rice (molded in the shape of a teddy bear) with a piece of grilled salmon and a seaweed strip.  I grab a smoothie and a banana even though I had a yogurt with granola at home. We have a milk break at 9:15am and lunch at 12:10pm. Both offer food first and when you are finished, recess.  For students in grade 2 through grade 12, children select and monitor their own food.  The preschoolers and kindergarteners  get morning snack, lunch and a snack right after nap time.  These are prepared and delivered to the classrooms.  They get super cute kitty jello mold treats or little moon cakes or something else in a “just right” size for snack.  Lunch for the “littles” is traditional Thai. Grilled chicken and rice is the Thai version of “nuggets and fries.” And then there is sticky rice.  Ah, sticky rice.  Available everywhere in little Nona leaf packets or steamed right inside a bamboo shoot.  Flavored with sweet fruit bits, mango, or of course, fish. Eaten with your hands.  Very good and very sticky!  Perfect kid food.

Fresh and fast.  People are constantly shopping for food.  Whether you are at a street market, or at Tesco Lotus (a super market chain) people shop for fresh food often.  Buying fresh vegetables, fruit and meats occur several times per week. Very few homes have an oven-just a cooktop.  So food is prepared quickly and in small, one meal batches.  Soup just takes about 15 minutes as well as about every stir fry.  Making a chili paste does takes longer but this is made ahead to be used in several meals.  Or, you can buy homemade paste at the market for less than a dollar.  Compared to the shoulder to shoulder crowd in the produce and meat sections at the supermarket, the aisles with canned and processed foods feel like a ghost town.  Quality and freshness matter.

Flavors.  Salty, spicy, savory, sweet. I’ve actually come to except a surprise when I bite into something.  And when I’m not surprised, I get a little annoyed.  “This has no flavor!  Did I get the ‘farang’ version because I’m an obvious Westerner? Don’t they know I have a finely tuned palate after half a year in Thailand?  Where are the super hot bird’s eye peppers?  Where are those bitter green things that look like giant peas but are definitely NOT peas?  I want my SALTY fish!” Food becomes a bit of an adventure – an experience.  My 4th grade friend,Patti, said it best in a poem she wrote for school.  

Som Tum

Sour, Spicy, Yummy

Noodles put in the mortal and with the pestle chop chop chop!

Sour, Spicy, Yummy

Then the Papaya, mmm!  Now is put.

Now the lemon, delicious it will be!

It will be the best Som Tum ever.

Sour, Spicy, Yummy

After that, the chili.

I hope it tastes fabulous for me and my family to eat.

Sour ,Spicy, Yummy


It was everything.


2016 is put to bed. 2017 is ready to go!

2016.  So many have said it was a lamentable year.  No matter what side of the coin you are on, it seems that we have all grown tired of negative rhetoric and pessimism.   However, I can truthfully say that I have learned so much  from this “less than perfect; very UnHallmark, don’t post that on Facebook” year.

Life, it turns out, is pretty unpredictable and often uncomfortable and difficult.  When did we begin to believe that everything is perfect?  When did we begin to believe our problems could be solved in the matter of days – let alone at all?  

You might be thinking, “Jeez, you’ve been traveling the world – away from all this political hoopla.  What do you know about ‘less than perfect’”?  And, you are likely correct in your thinking.  My “less than perfect” has been very different from my U.S. friends and family.  And while I have been 7000 miles from the circus, this past year has given me the opportunity to become more reflective and, I hope, compassionate about “being human.”  

Lessons Learned in 2016:

Nothing lasts forever…and that’s o.k.  Rick spent the first several months of 2016 helping to sell his father’s home.  Nearly 40 years of life and memories.  Then, selling and moving out of our own family home of almost 20 years.  Difficult?  Yes. Regrets?  A few.  But, those chapters of our life built the foundation for the upcoming chapters. Our history can stifle or launch us.


My family in front of our home of 20 years. So many important memories here.

Embrace fear.  Leaving was by far the most difficult and scary thing I have ever done.   Saying goodbye to our children.  Rick quitting his job to create his own business.  Buying a condo (how old am I?).  Walking away from all that was familiar to a land unknown. Unbelievable guilt and worry.  

And then I found that the fear turned to hard work.  Living in the Thai culture as a distinct minority; getting sicker than a dog after eating “something”;  total confusion in downtown Bangkok;  giving the taxi driver a 1000 baht bill instead of a 50; constantly thinking ahead. Exhausting.  

Finally, the hard work turned to excitement.  Traveling to 9 different countries in 6 months; eating bugs that taste pretty good; Rick jamming at the local hang-out and making music on a daily basis;  scuffling with aggressive monkeys; writing; exotic Wats; sublime beaches; Rick “forgetting” to get his hair cut.  

Exhilarating and incredibly eye-opening.  But, notice.  I didn’t say ,“great” or “awesome.”  

Reality is better than Facebook.  The pictures and stories I post are just the shiny top  of a deep and interesting experience.  Like the view out of our Tacoma window,  I can show you Mt. Rainier in all it’s glory and crop out the noise and traffic of Highway 16 traffic just below.  Or, I can focus my lens on Highway 16 and crop out Mt. Rainier.  My choice of perspective. But, in reality, life is both.  It’s good, it’s beautiful, it’s bad, it’s ugly, it’s sad and disgusting. It’s everything.  That’s what makes it great.


The “real” view from our window.

And, for me, that’s what made 2016 great.  It was everything.  


Cute tucked in everywhere

Everyone is smiling at the experts.

So now that I’ve been here in Thailand for about 12 weeks,  I like to consider myself more than a tourist. More than a traveler, even.  A bit of an expert.   I’m an Expat.  I’ve made the commitment and I deserve the respect.  When Thai’s ask “Where are you from?”  I proudly respond, “I live in Min BUR ee.”  They smile and say, “Oh, you live in Min bur EE?”  I cringe and obediently repeat their quick language correction, and sheepishly say, “Yes, Min bur EE.”  

As a seasoned local, I know 15 Thai words all together and can confidently say hello, thank you, please, yes, no, left, right, here, chicken, pork  and can count 1-5.  And when ordering food I can look slyly at the pictures and quickly think, “that’s the green curry”, “that’s tom yum soup”, “that’s a fish thingy” and then point to the picture and nod “yes.”  The servers are almost always impressed.  In fact,  a few nights ago, Rick took me to a VERY hipster place in Chinatown called The Tep Bar.  Tucked away down a winding little alley, it’s darkly lit with a lotus bud on each table.  Traditional Thai music played by artistic college students to entertain us  and the wait staff is ultra cool with old school Chinese beards and man buns.  First plus, drinks are two for one.  Score.  The very modern server brings her iPad over to take our order. I tell her our choices and she dutifully pulls up the picture on her screen and I nod, “Yes.”  Deep fried chicken dumplings.  Spicy pork balls.  Bamboo Butterfly.

Music, wine and little tapas style plates.  Eating bits of everything, laughing and enjoying the music.  Dumplings are super crunchy; pork balls are super spicy and the bamboo butterfly…crunchy on the outside and creamy on the inside.  Wait a second.  I take a closer look.  Bamboo BUTTERFLY.  In the pupa stage.  Even with a picture.  Nice one Forang.  They were pretty good, actually.  And by the way, two for one in Bangkok means that you get two drinks for the price of two drinks.  And if you have three, instead of four (because while I am a silly Forang, I am not stupid) you still get charged for four because it’s two for one and three is not divisible by two.  It makes perfect sense.  You see, I’m practically native.


Once we finally got to the Royal Palace, even the statue is laughing at us!

The next day, now that we’re fully integrated into Thai culture, we figure we can go for the big time.  Just take a taxi down to the Grand Palace for a little tour.  Now you need to know that this area  is tourist central.  Mad house. Think Roman Coliseum.  Think La Rambla in Barcelona.  Think pick-pockets and cons.  Think “RUN!!”  But we KNOW Thailand now.  We live here.  We’re ready.  Easy enough.  Grab a taxi and off we go.  As we get close to the Palace, I realize that we can save at least 5 baht (15 cents)  if the driver stops a little early.  I holler, “Tee NEE, ka!”  (Here, please.)  Such an expert.  We get out of the cab and start our leisurely walk to the Palace gates.  On the way, a nice man, wearing a police logo polo shirt stops us.  “Hello, the gate to the Palace is here.  I’m here on holiday from Phuket. I work for the government.  You live in Min bur EE?  Then, let me help you get a good deal on this Tuk Tuk down to the Thai long tail boat ride that I just took.  I loved it.  One hour.  No shopping.”

And, we did it.  

Oh, the boat ride was nice.  Thank God I saved that 15 cents because we were totally ripped off.  We even had to pay to get OFF the boat.  Yep.  Another nice one Forang.


Smiling al the way to the bank.


Sky train to Minbur EE….I think.

Needless to say, all we wanted to do was take our deflated selves back to Min bur EE.  So, we hop the subway to the skytrain.  Headed home.  Expertly done.  On the train platform, another Westerner approaches us and asks about directions to the airport.  “Oh, it’s the same train we’re taking.  Just come with us.” We board the train.  We chat.  He’s heading to Vietnam.  I ask if he knows about getting a” Visa on Arrival” (which I know about since I’m an expert) and his face falls in disbelief.  “No, I don’t know about that.”  So I quickly google it on my phone because as an Expat of 12 weeks, I have a local service.  Thankfully, we were there to save the day and he got the information he needed.  But, then I realize that I haven’t been paying attention to the train stops.  Where are we?  I listen carefully to the overhead loudspeaker.  “Blah, blah, KA”.  Is that our stop?   Yes.  Definitely.  “Blah, blah, KA” is where we need to get off.

Well, it wasn’t.  And, next to a freeway, finding a cab willing to drive to Min bur EE was close to impossible.  Time to Uber.  At first, no cabs took the call.  Then we got one!  We waited.  They cancelled.  Then, out of the blue, a Buddha taxi pulled up.  Over time, I’ve noticed that some cabbies have Buddha icons on the dashboard.  This driver patiently smiled and  listened and figured out where we needed to go.  Exhausted, humbled and very grateful, we finally made it home.   
Thank you Buddha guy.  


Maybe he called our cabbie? “Hey Joe. Forang needs help. Right. Thanks man.”

So, what are ya gonna do?


Islamic Architecture in Kuala Lumpur

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are making our final descent.  As per Malaysian government regulation, your flight attendants will be fumigating the cabin with a non-toxic insecticide.  Please cover your nose and mouth.  Thank you.”

I look up in disbelief from the Duty Free catalog.  Rick and I make “significant” eye contact and look around.  No one seems alarmed as the flight attendants walk through the cabin spraying the “non-toxic” insecticide.  How the hell is it non-toxic if it’s meant to kill?  Damn Zika.   So, what do you do?  You cover your nose and mouth and hope to hell that you don’t grow an extra ear any time soon.  Where in the world are we heading?

Kuala Lumpur.  Or as the locals call it, KL.  It’s kind of a California thing, I guess.  Ultra modern city with skyscrapers and lots of shiny stuff.  Drivers stay in their lanes. People wear helmets.  There are rules here.  Plus, as a former British colony, English is spoken. Jackpot.  So, we got fumigated?  No problem.  This is going to be a great long weekend.  And it is.  Just not as predictable as one might imagine.

Malaysia is a cultural melting pot of sorts.  The state religion is Islam but there is a huge Indian and Chinese population as well.  So, throw in a little Hinduism and a little Buddhism and a history of British colonialism and, well, that’s interesting.

When our driver pulled up to our hotel, The Majestic, my jaw hit the floor.  This is one of the original colonial hotels of the region from the 1930’s.  Our valet was wearing one of those old jungle safari get-ups with the hat, short pants and side arm.  All in white.  The lounge (where we spent a million ringgits on drinks) included a quartet in white tuxedos playing old standards from the era.  Who knew that could pull that out of a hat?  Fabulous.


British Colonialism alive and well.

Even the thunderstorm that night was amazing.  I had chatted with a guy on the plane about Southeast  Asian thunderstorms and compared the sound of thunder in Bangkok to  a “bomb.”  He told me not to say “bomb” on a plane and buried his head in his book.   But right when we landed (after the fumigation), in the pouring rain, he turned to me, smiled and said, “you think thunder in Bangkok is like a bomb?  Well, thunder in KL is like a nuclear explosion!”  He was right.  Now what?  We hunkered down in our hotel and enjoyed watching mother nature in a full-on rage.

Moving around the city, the Muslim influence was everywhere.  Pink “ladies only” cars on the subway trains; little prayer rooms right next to the washrooms.  More than half the woman wore a Hijab (head covering) and a good percentage wore a full Burka.  I had never seen uniforms (e.g. airport security) designed for Muslim woman.  We were able to visit the National Islamic Art Center which housed some incredible artifacts and artwork.  And, the call to prayer each morning and night.   My normal attire, beer logo t-shirt and shorts, was not going to work.  But everything I brought was somehow offensive.  I felt like a total hussy.  Running around with my sleeveless dress, bare feet in sandals and knees out for the world to see.  Solution?  I wrapped my beach sari around my waist and hoped for the best.  What’a ya do?

flag-klThe Hindu temple site, Batu Caves was a different experience entirely.   Hindu temples have been built into ancient caves located about 5kms out of the city.  Standing guard outside the caves is  Lord  Moruga.  At 140 feet high, his golden self is pretty impressive.  And everything is bright.  Blue, red, yellow, gold. Not just the temples and the gods and the art  – but the people!  Amazing colorful sari’s on Indian woman.  Beautiful bright tunics on the men.  Henna designs on faces and arms and legs.   As I stood and observed – what first appeared to be almost a carnival atmosphere – began to shape-shift right in front of my eyes.  Look a little closer.  A young child with shaved head and some sort of paint on her skull.  An old woman in worn sari shuffling barefoot up 272 steps toward a temple.  Smiling family portrait in front of a god that is tearing open his chest. And finally, two adults dressed in yellow, carrying a small body, wrapped in a yellow shroud, up those 272 steps.  A death rite.  This was a sacred place.   So what did I do?  I put my camera away and quietly observed.  Beautifully disquieting.marunga-kl


272 steps…


Family Portrait

That night, the best curry ever followed by beers at a bar that played “authentic” Western Rock music (Bon Jovi?  Are you kidding?).  Prada store two blocks from a seedy hookah bar and a walk through the best Chinese antique junk store ever.  “My husband he no like my junk.  I buy and then I sell it and then I buy some more.”  I liked that woman.  So, I spent way too much on my 1970’s Chairman Mao alarm clock.  Oh well.  Best money spent in a junk shop yet.

Too quickly, we are driving back to the airport and Rick mentions how great the traffic is in KL and how nice it is to not feel worried about getting somewhere late.  As soon as those words left his mouth – blowout.  Left rear tire.  We swerve and pull over to the very narrow shoulder.  The driver apologizes and goes to get the jack.  Broken.  Rick and I actually started laughing.  What do you do?  So we laughed and chatted with the driver and his son until another car got there. We made it. Barely.

So what are ya gonna do?  Mai Pen Rai.  I think I’m starting to get it.

Same Same….Different


Chairman Mao says “Good Morning!”


With 5 floors, it’s important to make sure the kids stay to the…..left!! Remember, we drive like the Brits here.


Just kids…. mingling outside before school starts.


From my blog posts so far, you may not realize that I have actually been working for the last 6 weeks.  My culture shock outside of school has been pretty dramatic.  Blog worthy stuff, I’d say.  My transition to my new school?  As the Thai say, Same Same….Different.

I start my morning with my vintage Chairman Mao wind-up alarm clock (a real find at a Chinese flea market in Malaysia 🙂 going off at 5:00am.  The little mechanical worker children on the face of the clock smile and wave madly at me as if to say, “Get up, it’s time to work!  Working is good!  Working helps your society!  Chairman Mao is smiling!”  Time to get rolling.

Get dressed, eat breakfast, hop on my bike and pedal to work.  Sunny mornings include a lovely sunrise over the Khlong (canal) and long-legged waterfowl stepping lightly through the rice paddies.  Rainy or post rain mornings are different.  Poncho, wind, dodging enormous puddles and hoping the passing cars are thoughtful enough to drive around these temporary lakes as they go by.  Geckos making one hell of a ruckus – took me a few weeks to figure out what the sound was!

Arrive.  First things first.  Turn on the AC.  The hallways are outdoor breezeways and the canteen (cafeteria) is a covered outside area.  So, 95 degrees going from place to place and refrigerator cold in classrooms and offices.  I’ve actually acclimated enough that I set my AC at about 80-82 degrees.  Yes.  A northwest girl just said that.  The change between the extremes is awful otherwise.

We speak English at Ruamrudee (RIS.)   While we are a K-12 Catholic International school, our student population is mostly Thai nationals seeking to attend American, Australian or British Universities.  So, the only Thai you hear is in Thai class, in the preschool, and by the Thai non-teaching staff.   More than half of our students are English Language Learners.  I am learning to change my communication and teaching style to accommodate this.   Plus, not all parents speak English so about half of my meetings include an interpreter.  I’m learning to “wei” (bow with hands as if in prayer)  more appropriately and have been told by veteran staff that a parent meeting that starts with a “wei” but ends with a handshake is considered successful.  I’m batting about 500.

My counseling day.  Hold onto your hat.  I haven’t had to de-escalate a single child yet!!  Overt anger and explosive behaviors are replaced by anxiety and covert anger responses.  But, this makes perfect sense.  The Thai culture is one in which feelings are withheld in an attempt to reduce conflict.   Laughter and smiling are the path of least resistance.  

Since  we are one of a handful of international schools  in Thailand with a full special services program, I am working with a good number of students on the Autism spectrum.  It’s incredibly gratifying to be able to work with these students knowing that the resources we are providing are so welcome. Parents are so grateful to have a place where their children are accepted and educated with knowledge and confidence.  

As a Catholic school run by the Redemptorist Order, we sponsor a number of social programs including a few orphanages and a prison education program among others so our elementary leadership program (we call it Phoenix Pals)  has plenty to do!!   I’m busy.  Just differently. Thank God  I have an excellent intern.  She has been in Thailand for 5 years as a teacher and knows her way around.  Plus, she is really good.  Actually really, really good.

Food.  Hell yeah.  The canteen has about 15 food providers.  Folks contract with the school and each run a little restaurant here.  We have Thai, Indian, Chinese, “Western” (mashed potatoes in a little cup), a Smoothie stand, a Coffee stand, a Noodle place, Greek and Italian.  The cost?  Anywhere from 30 baht to 60 baht ($1-2) for a large full-plate serving.

Just like the states, we have “guaranteed and viable” curriculum in reading and math.  Different?  We also have science, social studies, music, PE, Thai, and, are you sitting down?  Art.  Yes.  We have a full-time elementary art teacher. Mr. Josh has a FULL TIME POSITION as a Preschool – grade 5 art teacher.  By 5th grade, students create an on-line portfolio.   Plus, and this is about the cutest thing ever, Preschool, Pre-Kindergarten and Kindergarten have nap time!!  Each kid brings a comfy mat and blanket and they sleep or at least “rest” for about 90 minutes at the end of the day.  When parents come to get them they are fresh as daisies (complete with hilarious bedheads) and ready to take on the rest of their day!

Names.  In Thailand, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE goes by a nickname.  Given names  (both first and last) are extremely long.  So, nicknames are the norm.  And these nicknames range from the traditional to the unique.  Prim, Pan, First, Party, Ivy, Boss, Miaow, Boeing.  I haven’t quite figured out if these names are chosen with an intent or if they just sound nice.  One day, I told a girl the English meaning of her name, Bouquet.    I said it was beautiful and defined it as  a “bunch or collection” as in a “bouquet of flowers.”  The smile she gave me was unforgettable.

And the kids?  Same, Same.  Curious, funny, naughty, imaginative, impulsive, motivated, lazy.  Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile.  Looking for attention and belonging.  Trying  to understand their place on this incredibly complicated, yet simple, planet.   Just like the states, THIS is the reason educators become educators.  The smiles, the tears, the moment when they “get” the concept you are teaching.  Smiling and waving  like the children on my alarm clock –  it’s the kids that bring us back to the school house each and every year.  Nothing different here.


Beauty in the Unexpected

Selfie on CROWDED Ferry Taxi. Photo bombs are not optional!!
A Relative asked Rick if we were having fun, here in Thailand.  His response to this friendly inquiry was, “Well, I’m not sure “fun” is the word I would choose.”
This experience may be the most challenging thing I have ever done in my life.  Someone said, “it will be more and less of what you expect.”  Bingo.
I could say everything is amazing and that would be true.  In both the positive and negative sense.  When you come, be prepared to be unprepared.  It’s hotter than I’ve ever experienced and so humid.  I am drenched by the time I get to work.  I can’t put my sports bra on by myself because it’s the “over the head” style and sticks to my body and won’t move.  My feet are slightly swollen so certain shoes will never be worn here.  You need number 50 sunscreen for WATER SPORTS, or you will sweat it off in 30 seconds.
The beach is NOT close by.  The beach is a weekend endeavor.  Downtown Bangkok is not close by.  Basically, our philosophy is work during the week and take mini vacations on the weekend  And that is because whatever you do takes a lot of time and rarely goes according to plan.  The Thai phrase, Mai Pen Rai, roughly translates to “no worries” or “what will happen will happen.”  This Karmic attitude is spot on.  Best laid plans are almost laughable.  Who knows what will happen.  Really. 
Monsoon rain?  Check.  
Fender Bender?  Check.
No credits cards taken here.  Run around until you find an ATM.  Check.  
Taxi takes you to the wrong place?  Check.  
Nobody available to weight your fruit?  No fruit today.  Check.
If you are a germ phone, let that go now!  No dishwashers so even at restaurants everything is hand-washed in a huge, murky vat.  Barefoot inside the Wats, no exceptions.  Mystery street food wrapped in waxed bags passed out by venders that wander among the stopped cars in a traffic jam.  Food handling without gloves.  Community combs at the gym; shared flip flops for the steam room and a little basket next to the squat toilet for your used t.p.
Safety is your own responsibility.  We wear seat belts in the cabs….when they are available…and put life jackets in a boat…when available.  No helmet?  No problem.  Baby on the handlebars of your scooter?  No problem.  Cram 15 people in the back of a pickup?  I think we can fit one more, don’t you?  Wanna be a fire dancer?  OK, you’re 10 and look to be able to use a lighter.  Hired.  Either that or you can be a “tour guide” on a rickety long boat.
That said, I really like it here.  So much beauty tucked inside daily encounters.  Scary soi (street) dogs lounging in the sun;  an incredible Buddhist temple next to a Soviet block style skyscraper; perfectly arranged fruit on a dilapidated card table; chanting monks in tattered saffron robes;  Muslim call to prayer over a crackling loud-speaker; the old man in a worn uniform that salutes me each morning on my ride to work.  
Everything is raw and real.  No boneless, skinless chicken breasts here!  Just whole chickens with head, feet and innards, hanging at the market in a surprisingly appealing way.
Please visit.  If you come with an open mind, and more importantly an open heart, you will have the experience of a life-time.
Plus, we’ll take you to the beach.

We’ve still got room on this thing…