No more pencils, no more books

SCHOOL'S OUT FOR THE...HOT SEASON!

Just finished the last class of my first semester as a teacher.

A surprise: when I walked into one of my favorite classes for the last time yesterday, all of the forty nine students rose on cue and launched into a six minute version of a traditional Thai song about teachers. There were different parts for the boys and girls and even several solos, and after the song was finished the entire class sat and one lone student stood and made a speech in English. One of my favorite students, Nut, even started crying.

It's possible I cried a little in front of my students. Whoops...

Also, before anyone congratulates me on a job well done, I'll point out that the typical exit ceremony for me this week was a lot less grandiose. A "Thanks again guys! It's been a great semester. Any questions? About anything?..." followed by deafening silence, and then my little voice, "So, no questions?...," followed by more silence, and then finally, a goodbye wave as I quietly slipped out the door.

Just a few hundred more grades and then I am done.

Yours,
"Teacher Rebecca" as my students know me

Two things

1) Tonight, as I was walking home from dinner at my favorite pad thai stand, I passed the local BB gun store and spotted a live rabbit hopping around in the front display case.

2) If the country's primary English newspaper is reassuring me that there will be "NO COUP," should I think to myself: whew, what a relief?



73,
R

Mango season has arrived!

As of yesterday, mangoes are about 30 cents each with prices expected to fall as peak season nears. You should have seen the vendor’s face when I told her how expensive mangoes are back home.


I'm think I am growing increasingly competent at navigating the market. A few other shots from yesterday's grocery-shopping trip:




Love,
R

Do you like art or dance or children or using pay pal?

Then consider helping me bring acrylic paints and molding paste to this shelter by donating a few dollar bills to this workshop myself and some of my friends are planning. For more information and to donate, visit:

http://supportourworkshop.blogspot.com/

Getting to know Phitsanulok, Pt. II: the city of many festivals

You have likely already heard about Thailand's notorious full moon party, but I think that you might be unaware of another Thai paradise for party lovers: Phitsanulok. We don't just party once a month; we party all month long.

This town can throw a festival like no other. There's been a festival more or less since my arrival. Skeptical? First was Loy Krathong in November, followed by bike week in early December, followed by the international food festival of late December, followed by the King Naresuan festival of early January, and the famous Wat Yai festival of late January, followed immediately by the orchid festival of early February and then the Chinese new year festivities of mid February. As far as I can tell, late February is experiencing a freakish lull in festival action.

Each festival is different--the orchid festival had an unimaginable amount of orchids, the Wat Yai festival had an official fruit that was oblong and brown and absolutely everywhere, the King Naresuan festival had great fireworks--but there are also a lot of commonalities. Mostly I think this is because a fair portion of the economy of Phitsanulok is constituted by vendors who move from festival to festival. I'm starting to recognize them: the woman who sells the old timey photographs of Phitsanulok, the woman who sells the long skirts that won't bargain cheap enough for my liking, the guy who sells actual kitchen sinks.

That's another remarkable aspect of the festivals; you'd be amazed by the breadth of product available. Power tools to teak wood beds to sticky rice to squirrels. In one day, a whole street of the town will be transformed into a combination outdoor carnival, cabaret, dollar store, and Home Depot. A typical festival will throb for anywhere from three to ten days, pulsing with people, music, lights, smoke and smells. Families, shrieking children, deeply wrinkled elderly, self-aware teens with lip gloss, young couples: all will swarm around the many stalls and stages, eating, laughing, watching, bargaining. And then, as quickly as it arrived, the entire commotion will fold up and disappear, to reappear in slightly altered form a few days later.

I haven't done proper photodocumentation of the spectacles, but here's a shot of our decorations for Chinese New year. The town, like much of Thailand, has a fairly sizable population with Chinese heritage, and also our lady Mayor's husband is Chinese.


I'm not sure if I'll make it to the "biggest party in the Thailand," but I bet if I do, I'll find that they have considerably less excellent prices on extension cords. Phitsanulok, where the festival never ends. I think I should contact the Tourist Authority here to see if they want me to write any copy for them. Who knows, maybe they're paying me to make these blog entries?

Enjoying city life,
Rebecca

Cause for celebration

Happy Valentine's Day, Chinese New Year, and President's Day to all of you.



Maybe for President's Day I'll try to explain my senior thesis on extralegal presidential action to my classes...

With lots of love,
Rebecca

Getting to know Phitsanulok, Pt. I: Wat Yai

While perusing the endlessly amusing classroom anecdotes and the sundry pictures I’ve posted, it occurred to me that I haven’t given much wire time (what is the blog equivalent of air time?) to my own hometown. In a special TWO PART series of blog posts I seek to amend this grievous mistake.

Part I: Wat Yai

Wat Yai is the big deal in town. To be more exact, it’s the deal in town, dating back to 1357. Wat Yai, home to the “second most famous Buddha image in Thailand.” I’m sure you’ve heard of it: Phra Buddha Chinnarat? Yes, of course.

Though officially named Wat Phra Si Ratana Mahatat Woramahawihan, most everyone calls the place Wat Yai, which translates to “big temple.” It’s the heart of the town, everything else existing merely in relation, plotted on some orbit. When someone asks me where I live, I say “glai Wat Yai,” or “near the big temple.”

Indeed, I am lucky enough to live within spitting distance of the temple, sharing the very same small alley. From my little porch I can look out over the trees and spot the top of the temple tower. Every morning at six fifty, I hear the bell that calls the monks to gather, and at seven the chanting of the monks begins, keeping me company as I eat my muesli and yogurt.

The monks. That’s a great part of living next to the wat. It’s wonderful living in a Buddhist country, but the language barrier impedes my attempts to learn from the practitioners all around me. I have a million questions—about faith, about monkhood, about meditation, about what kind of food offerings the monks like best—but as I’m still mastering basic food vocabulary, I’m not up to the task of discussing the finer points of the four-fold path. However, my endless access to monks has given me an alternate way of learning: spying. Euphemistically, I suppose you could call it observation. I watch the monks. I watch them laugh amongst themselves. I watch them joke with vendors and board city buses. I even watch them (sometimes) in their apartments (which face my own building). I try not to be too invasive, but how can I ignore the gigantic Manchester United poster one of the monks has up on his wall? Or the monk seeking a moment of solitude in the alley to enjoy a cigarette? Sometimes a monk will even say “hello,” but that’s about the most contact I ever have. I swear one morning while I was waiting for the bus one monk asked me if I was a teacher at Triam Udom Suksa and I was so busy being nervous and bowing excessively that I couldn’t even compose a coherent reply.

Given my abundance of quality personal time (another euphemism?), I've taken to sitting around the wat rather than sitting in my apartment. Sometimes I aspire to meditate but mostly I just people watch. It’s neat to see the various roles the wat assumes. Wat Yai is many things: a source of local pride, fair grounds, space for a bustling herbal remedy and dried fruit market, a place for prayer, and host to the few tourists that roll up in giant air-con buses, to name a few. It is the density and substance from which local gravity radiates, holding everything together and making it comprehensible.

Here are a few pictures. This is the sort of back yard of the temple. These ruins date back to sometime in the 16th century I think? This is my favorite part of the wat:




Here are some more Buddhas, resting on a large stupa:


And...drumroll...here it is! The second most famous Buddha image in Thailand. Relish it. Appreciate the unique swooping dragons on the side of the Buddha. Be impressed (picture courtesy of wikipedia):


And our shared alley. The monks houses are on the left. The entrance to my apartment is on the right, just out of the frame.


So there it is, reader, a little bit more about my life here. Now you know what makes Phitsanulok tick. Are you ready to come visit so you can make a lotus blossom and incense offering with me? Great. See you soon! And stay tuned for part II of this thrilling series.

Yours,
R

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIS!

Hope it's grand. Wish you were here, or I were there. Joint birthday party next year at the pottery painting studio, no take backs?

Love,
R

P.S. Happy four months in Thailand anniversary to myself!