I miss Thailand less and less… The one thing is the dancing. If I was walking down the street in Fargo, heard music, and started busting it… I would get locked up most likely. But in Thailand? Heck naw. I could dance wherever/whenever, and there was always someone who would join me.
and oh, the ocean. Except invariably when I wanted to stand at the edge and watch the waves late at night, someone would ALWAYS ALWAYS come and insist on trying to make small talk. I had no patience for it.
I should take a meditation class or two. No one would come up and make small talk with me if I was in deep meditation in my room. hopefully.
I’m sort of really into a dude. I cooked for him which I rarely do, even for myself. eee! crazy.
Conversation with one of the old ladies at my nursing home:
Her: What do they call toilet paper in Thailand?
Me: Well… they call it toilet paper….I guess.
Her: I bet they call it butt-wipe!
I freakin’ love my job.
After teaching my class yesterday, my instructor/observer told me he couldn’t find any mistakes in my teaching process. So I’m insanely proud of myself right now, and so, so happy.. I think I want to teach English in Japan. Of course, I’m basing this solely off the fact that my Japanese students I taught last week are so crazyawesome.
I love teaching. I always thought maybe I’d be bad at it, but now that I know I’ll do fine, the world is my freakin’ oyster.
Every other night here is a going away party as we all slowly drift homewards or on to new travels. I leave Sunday. Can’t wait to be back, can’t stand to leave.
Part of a sample lesson plan : (the fun, drawing part)
Koh Phi Phi! Paradise
I love watching the sunset in Patong… everywhere else it seems so violent, but here it’s golden and soft. All the little mermaid babies (i.e. children) frolic in the waves and it may be the most picturesque thing I’ve seen.
favorite favorite favorite Japanese dude in the whole world.
This kid is one crazy dancer. If you are coming to Patong Beach, Thailand, I highly recommend the Banana Discotheque. Spent an amazing couple of hours here.
I think I remember that I loved to dance in high school, but I don’t think it was an obsession like it is now… Nobody in Mott ever really danced, some did (poorly) if they were drunk. I don’t know how I learned to dance while growing up without a tv set, surrounded by non-dancing friends.
“When I dance, I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole, that is why I dance.”
I only have one week left in Thailand. Everything has been perfect. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve been, my students, my fellow teachers. I have danced on the beaches of a tropical island, on the dirty Bangla road, in backstreet bars with Thais who have no customers since it’s the tourist off season. I’ve gotten into dance-offs in the rain, and taught fire-dancers and waiters how to swing-dance. I hit clubs with my crazy Japanese students, and sang/screamed so hard that my voice didn’t come back for days. I have gotten into the strangest of conversations on subjects ranging from dreams to other universes to quantum physics. I have walked the beach late nights with the best people. I have laughed harder than I would have thought possible. Oh and I’m almost certified to teach English.
There is so much shit in my past that I’ve been trying to escape.
Think I finally half-managed it 🙂
went to Phi Phi this weekend. The island culture is so laid back and chill. The Thai natives are awesome, (I taught a fire-dancer how to swing-dance!) The beaches are cinematic… all white sand and turquoise water. I wish I had pictures to show you, but I’m going back next weekend and won’t be so stupid as to leave my camera at home this time. I heard this song there, and kept screaming at my Spanish friend to tell me the lyrics, somehow I still managed to find it despite only writing down “caliente” and “calor”.
I haven’t done my lesson plan for today, but I’m not teaching till the afternoon so I’ll just work on it during other people’s teaching sessions and during my prep session and lunch break. cutting it close…
“That is the simple secret of happiness. Whatever you are doing, don’t let past move your mind; don’t let future disturb you. Because the past is no more, and the future is not yet. To live in the memories, to live in the imagination, is to live in the non-existential. And when you are living in the non-existential, you are missing that which is existential. Naturally you will be miserable, because you will miss your whole life.”
I got into a dance-off with a Thai native. Then it started raining like crazy and we were the only two people in the street, (much less dancing) while everyone huddled around in bars trying to stay dry… Then my Colombian friend came out to dance with us (she’s dipping me, here)
One by one, more people joined us, till it was this crazy rain-dance party. Amazing.
“forgive them. forgive yourself.
it was never love
love doesn’t cripple. it doesn’t taunt or torture the tongue. love doesn’t have you bent at the waist but forgetting to pray. bleeding like an oak tree. it doesn’t have you sleeping with the lights on, or hiding from any surface clear and shiny enough to see yourself in.
it was never love darling.
i am sorry”
After a while, being alone in a foreign country gets exhausting. I feel like I need someone I can trust in close proximity to me. I wonder if it’s the same for men… obviously the world just isn’t as dangerous for them. Why would they need anyone “safe” around them?
After hanging out with my Desi friends I kept accidentally speaking Hindi to everyone. They say I speak it like I’ve been living in India for five years but eh.. think I’m gonna have to call b.s. on that. Mostly because I understand about 3% or less when Indians speak Hindi.
When I am in Fargo, my stomping-ground, I am more than ready to take on any problem that life might throw at me. I can think it through, develop a plan of attack, then execute it.
Here, in Thailand, where I don’t know anyone, I am pretty much a flustered wreck. I couldn’t find my airport pick-up, so I just went with some random taxi driver, and I didn’t have any small bills so I paid him WAYY too much, and instead of giving me change he just went “hee-hee!” and put my money away delightedly.
Later he asked for a tip, to which I said, “nuh-uh I gave you way too much already,” thereby making myself look like a complete jerk of an American to my guesthouse manager.
Well. I’m here, I guess that’s the main thing. I think this will be good for me, as long as I don’t get lost. I should also probably write my address in Thai and keep that with me.
I want to go out and dance tonight SO BAD but I’m by myself… and… I have class tomorrow. Better not.
if you wanna listen to the French version it’s called “Elle ma dit”
Just read the second Bridge Jones Diary book, and have become paranoid that I too will end up in jail in Thailand because someone planted cocaine on me. Must stay away from guys named Jed. Also, mushrooms.
I must be in the mood for mindless entertainment because helloooooo Clueless, the bimbo beach blonde ninety’s classic! Something to braindead myself with.
Although. I already feel braindead so perhaps this isn’t needed.
I haven’t been able to write anything aesthetically pleasing in a long time. Worries me. I worry about my creativivity beasts like I assume I’d worry about my children. They may have wandered off and gotten killed or eaten. Or maybe they will just be lost for an indefinite amount of time. Time for desperate measures. After all, you can notify the police after 24 hours. They’ve been gone for weeks.
I AM IN KOREA WHY CAN’T I WRITE PRETTY THINGS. I’d settle for ugly things.
Made this on the flight here. Wrong kind of beast. But nice.