A V.I.P. HITS THAILAND

NEWSFLASH! Phitsanulok has a new and highly esteemed visitor: my very own mother.

Well, I thought I knew Thai hospitality before this, but lo, I was so wrong. In honor of my mum's arrival, unimaginable heights of kindness have been summitted. My mother spent her first day in Thailand expertly guided by my coworkers around the ruins of the 15th century historical capital of Thailand, in the 100 degree heat. That was only the beginning. My teacher QT is off the charts.

Here's ma, receiving flowers at the departmental party celebrating her arrival.

Ma poses with the kiddies.

I'm so excited about her visit I'm even going to take a little vacay. Reckless, I know, but when you haven't seen family in nine months...

Happily,
Bec

Happy Father's Day

Miss you pops!

Love,
R

How I realized Phitsanulok is home

In The Republic, Socrates introduces an extended metaphor for the city as a human soul. He presents the soul as having three components: eros, thumos, and logos, or, quite roughly, desires/love, spiritedness, and intellect. Thumos corresponds to the warrior class of the city, defending the things we love (including, of course, ourselves). Thumos is our vanity, our pride, our expectations, and even our anger at ourselves for not meeting expectations.

Most relevantly for this post, it's the part of ourselves that irrationally attaches us to things that are our own. As in, of course I liked my high school football team and went to every game even though our record in the four years I attended school must have been about 10-38. Our sports teams, our homes, even our family members: thumos is the part of ourselves that bonds us to those things that, objectively viewed, might not be all that great. Think Cubs fans, the way you like your mom's weird macaroni and cheese, the bizarre dent on your car you strangely take pleasure in. These things are ours, and just that is enough to make them valuable to us.

Last week, I hosted a 23 year-old Italian couch surfer on the floor of my one-room apartment. He was plenty amiable, at the mid-point of a two year journey (by land and boat only; no flights!) from Italy to Australia. He stayed here for a couple of days, taking in the sights and relaxing before hitching-hiking on to the next big town on the highway. I showed him the best P'lok has to offer: the big temple, the night bazaar, the best pad thai in town, the best juice stand, the market, my friends, even aerobics in the park. When he was packing up, I asked him what he thought of the place. He said, "it could be worse," as if this was the most natural observation about the place.

I was a little stunned. Hadn't I shown him the wonderful parts of town? The little secrets it took me months to accumulate? Had he been paying any attention? And that's when I remembered what I'd been struck by when I first got here: the anonymous melange of three-story high dingy store fronts that stretch for blocks and blocks, the unattractive amount of trash, the vague feeling of a town that doesn't matter but wishes it did. The Scranton of Thailand, maybe?

Then I realized, it had happened. Phitsanulok had become a part of me. I'd subsumed it under my umbrella of things that are my own and that thus I love. And so, couch surfers be damned, I am defending this place until the temple bells stop ringing and the giant rooster statue on the highway crumbles down. All I need now is someone at the Phitsanulok tourist office to please, please find me and hire me to write brochures.

Yours,
Rebecca

Housekeeping Pop Quiz

Have you ever put a candle in your refrigerator to eliminate a mysterious smell? Yes. No. Gross.

Knock knock not jokes

Who's there?
Two best friends.
Two best friends who?
Shelley and Sam (in Phitsanulok, vsiting Triamudomsuksa School of the North).

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Teacher.
Teacher who?
Teacher Rebecca, the happiest teacher ever.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
A student, with a question for my friends.
A question for your friends what?
"What do you eat for breakfast to get so beautiful?"
Amen.

Bangkok is no longer burning

Thank goodness.

If you're looking for an short explanation of recent events, I've surprised myself by liking this quick one from Slate. Of course, people are deeply divided in Thailand about the what and why of this violence, so no one brief explanation can really get at it, but this one comes far closer than the "rural poor versus elite" line that's reverberating throughout the foreign media. That description is at best simplistic and omission laden, at worst a complete misrepresentation.

Not residing in a province under curfew,
Rebecca

Back to School, or Institutions and People

Today was the first day of the 2010-2011 academic year at Triam Udom Suksa. Turns out that all the way across the globe, first days of school happen just the same: the same fast chatter, quick enough to retell whole summers in three minutes flat; the same obsession over pens at the neighborhood school supply store (hesitation...and, if you just pick the right one...oh! the possibilities); the same hot, buzzing parking lot after school, familiar yells and analytical sideways glances.

The most unavoidable difference between this day and my own first days of school at LBJ Liberal Arts and Science Academy: people were never being shot in the streets some 300 kilometers south of me. I never boarded the school bus while the international media murmured about the possibility of civil war. I guess there are a few differences, to wit, the legitimacy of the current government is in jeopardy, the economy is paralyzed, and fears are increasing that violence will spread outside of Bangkok. Basic order is uncertain.

At the same time, life goes on. I work at a public school, a state-run institution if there ever was one. Today, even as one arm of the state haltingly engaged in a street battle with citizens, another arm of the the state's lumbering frame opened doors to schools across the country. The teachers came and the students came, and school was school. I assigned homework and my kids took notes in their little pink books. Some students said they were scared or sad, most made jokes ("...no, you can't choose the deposed Prime Minister as your group's mascot"). My coworkers are worried, especially those with friends or family in Bangkok, but they're also lesson planning. A lot of people just don't want to talk about it.

I'm watching live feed from central Bangkok right now and the explosion noises are fairly constant (which is of course all I can gather from the news since I still can't speak Thai...boy, I really have an incentive to learn now). Still, at the moment, the violence is contained to a very small part of the country. Most people want this to be over soon. Let's hope it is. Almost regardless, I'll be at school tomorrow.

Hoping,
Rebecca