the fishtank.

i am proud to report being the FIRST teacher to properly break in the picture perfect BumbleBee® world. the library, play room, and art room that comprise the inside of the glass-walled fishtank have been relatively untouched since finishing construction on the project about a month ago. all of the foreign teachers are smart enough to know that the perfectly arranged bottles of rainbow paint in the art room and the color coordinated building blocks in the play room will not last a second when combined with a classfull of energetic kiddies. of course this is not a worry to the thai teachers, who understand the room for exactly what it is: a moneymaking perfect image for the school. actually using the room would only mess things up, making it look not nearly as nice, so they wisely bring their students, mostly the pre-kindergarten classes of 2-year-olds to the art room and the play room not to do art (too messy) or to play (too fun) but to sit quiety while an “educational” dvd plays on one of the three extra large flat screens that the tank is equipped with.



imagine everyone’s surprise when today, my class of 3-year-olds, surprisingly on their best behavior for such an exciting excursion, comes lumbering in to be donned with smocks, loaded with paintbrushes, and let loose to have their way with the blank white sheets of paper in front of them. i saw the worried glances being passed around from one thai assistant to another as i remove the cute little bottles of paint powder from their perfect places on the spotless shelves to mix cups for each 4-person table of painters. i couldn’t help giggling to myself as i noticed the bright red, blue, and yellow tables were still plastic-wrapped. that technique may work for 80-year-old retirees hoping to keep their new furniture undamaged, but for a school of 300 2-to 6-year-olds, you have got to be kidding me.


my kids definitely enjoyed their painting, but even they could feel the apprehension of doing something they weren’t supposed to. i encouraged their beautiful works of art, even as bright paint spots appeared on the lovely hardwood floors and animal-shaped chairs. we had, after all been told over and over by the school owners to use the room to “do something interesting” with our kids, because sitting in the classroom all day ”has them very boring.” well, i quite agree!


the thai assistants did not hide their disapproval of the messiness of the painting activity i had endeavored. my thai teacher did not hide her irritation at having to help me clean up our paint-covered kiddies (though i smilingly told her to stop, happy to take all responsibility for my happy messes). the owner, watching from outside the fishtank, did not hide his genuine surprise that someone had actually worked up the nerve to properly break in the new space.


even so, it was one of my first genuinely GREAT days at school…no stress, happy kids, and a smile plastered on teacher emily’s face all day long. is it wrong to get such satisfaction from other peoples’ disapproval? is it wrong to get such amusement out of the looks of alarm and disgust caused by my audacity to *gasp* do art in the art room!?! is it wrong to get such happiness purely from injecting a little paint-spattered chaos into their perfect world?


well, it benefits the kids, so i say no, it’s not wrong :)

exam prep

i find out today that the time has come to start preparing exams for my class of 3-year-olds. yes, EXAMS. there’s not even a slight attempt to euphemize the fact that these poor little tikes, already severely deprived of playtime and overloaded with homework after a full 8-4 day of english, thai, chinese, and either extra tutoring or more perfect child building activities like ballet, meditation, thai dance, or taekwondo, are now facing the prospect of a formal written exam, to make sure they properly curl their q’s, know the difference between purple and green, and can recognize that mary’s little white-as-snow-fleeced pet was, in fact, a lamb, not a cow.



i fight hard, really hard, admirably hard, i might say in my favor, to not roll my eyes every other second during this debriefing meeting about the upcoming exam schedule. as the four o’clock meeting drags on and on, and such atrocities are discussed as what workbooks should be chosen next, i tackle the dilemma of whether i should accept this education austerity as a cultural difference, or whether i should really use my knowledge of developmental psychology to fight in favor of the right to play, as the advocate for these desperate kiddies. after all, in the unique pattaya situation of most fathers being westerners and most mothers being thai, it’s not exactly a thai cultural idiosyncrasy. throw in the chinese owner of the school, and the teachers from all over the world, and it’s hard to attribute this educational approach to any one culture in particular. back home, though it is far from my own hippy montessori preschool upbringing, i know there exist a good number of schools forcing workbooks on bouncy little 2 and 3-year-old bodies, as parents recognize the increasing competition for acceptance into good colleges, and even high schools and elementary schools, and simply try to do what’s best for their child.

hail the queen!

mother’s day. in thailand, this holiday is quite dissimilar to the commercialized flower, card, and breakfast-in-bed extravaganza that has developed in the united states. in fact, it is actually a nationwide celebration of the queen’s birthday, who is referred to as the mother of thai people, rather than for the purpose of actually celebrating your own mother. that being said, though the main focus is on the queen, whose face is raised on flags and adorned on elaborate flower displays outside of shops, houses, and restaurants for weeks prior the big day, august 12th is still used to take a moment to pray and honor your own mother via Buddhist rituals at temple, wai-ing to your mother, giving her offerings of flowers, and making donations to the monks in honor of your irreplaceable mom.



…importantly, though, along with any religious holiday comes the elaborate ordeal of day-long performances, celebrations, and opulent displays of entertainment, making for another interesting day as a kindergarten teacher in a new culture.


mother’s day festivities took an equally sizable portion of schooltime (no complaints from me) to prepare for in the weeks leading up to the event as had teacher appreciation day. the day of, however, completely blows waikru day out of the water. i screech my motorbike to a halt outside of the school gates to the welcoming scene of a completely transformed outdoor area (usually reserved for the superficial play equipment), now decked out with such exquisite adornments of brightly colored satin drapings and fairy light-covered ornamental trees and tents housing different activity stations and an expanse of plastic chairs that i might have mistaken the school for a high-class wedding venue.


my assigned position being inside helping the kiddies in their “behind the scenes” preparation before the dancing and singing performances take place for the waiting crowd of parents outside (aka covering them with drag queen makeup and squeezing them into tight satined, sequined, feathered little numbers) is an experience in itself. i don’t recognize half the students with their liberally-applied makeup, and as much as it slightly grosses me out, it is fun to help in the application process.


when all eyelashes are thoroughly mascara-ed and all cheeks properly blushed on all boys and girls young and old, the dance performances begin, and i can’t help but feel a sense of motherly pleasure in watching my little kiddies attempt to follow the simple choreography to the corny english lyrics and indistinguishable –yet surely equally as corny thai lyrics- about the person who is “holding you tight” when you’re sick and “giving you all their love”….


my interesting first experience with thai mother’s day ends with a personal makeshift attempt at offering a jasmine garland to Buddha in the small temple at the school gates in honor of my very own wonderful mother!

muay thai boxing

boys in silky shorts are waiting around casually. only when looking closely is it possible to make out a faint sense of apprehension for the poundings and beatings these muay thai fighters are sure to endure and a well covered up hint of anxiety about putting on a good show of their strength and toughness for their audience.

as foreigners, we pay the 1,500 baht for tickets. farang prices are already double. standard. so we figure we might as well shell out the extra 300 baht for the vip ringside seats.

the twangy exotic music of the live clarinet and bongo player in front of us transport me straight out of the tourist hub of pattaya practically to a new universe, one that i never would have pictured involving thai boxing. if anything the music hints at an atmosphere of snake charming and journeying into an underground aladdin-inspired cave for hidden gold…not that i know the slightest thing about american combat sports to start with, but this atmosphere is already a far cry from the pump-you-up tough guy music and bikini-clad ring girls that i might expect of a typical boxing match.

the first fighters approach the ring in satin robes proudly representing their home training gym. these prepubescent bodies are packed with nothing but muscle. rather than a crowd-pumping self-cheerleading pre-match spectacle, the fighters engage in an enrapturing wai kru ceremony. my only experience with wai-kru being the teacher appreciation day at my kindergarten, this provides more of a comprehensive understanding of these thai religious rituals. we watch as the fighters receive ringside prayers from their trainers, apparently blowing their spirit into their young apprentice to help with the fight, later research tells me. the young boys go straight to their knees and pray in the center of the ring. we watch as one of the fighters performs the elaborate wai kru dance, kneeling in chest-raised exotic birdlike mating ritual positions, wai-ing up and down, and shifting the pelvic weight back and forth in a wave motion. then off to pray in each corner, supposedly sealing off the fighting area from meddling outside distractions and influences. though the show is beautiful to watch, it is clearly for lifting the fighter’s internal spirit and strengthening the teacher-apprentice connection when it is needed most. it is not to humor the audience. i almost feel obtrusive watching the prayer dance.

but then the fighting begins! these first two opponents are only young boys. my maternal worry instinct competes with the thrill of each expertly landed swing and kick as the fight progresses and the crowd of thais gets to their feet in support and entertained enjoyment. our plastic vip chairs in the front row leave just enough room for the sweat flying off the zero percent fat beastly bodies flying around the ring. ooos and ahhhs and indistinguishable thai yells get louder, the exotic fight music gets faster, the hearts pump harder, until the fighters and the crowd near climax, and the bell rings. again and again, the atmosphere speeds, heightens, amplifies, in buzzing swells of collective anticipation. the excitement breaks only for momentary water-dumping on sweaty faces and vaseline-gobbing into bloody wounds. until, finally, the last climactic moment reaches breaking point, and one boy’s now lifeless arm is lifted by the referee for the crowd to recognize their victor.

photo op!

a regular snapaholic with my camera, i often worry if my photo-crazy tendencies while traveling interfere with my hope of always being a respectful and courteous visitor to my host country. after all, the last thing i want is for the camera around my neck to place me in the same category as the fat balding loud sex tourists still not knowing a word of Thai and eating at Yorkie’s best british pies …



a provocative college geography class taken at university of canterbury in new zealand explored the topic of photography as a unique aspect of travel. of course everyone wants photos of the locals when they visit an exotic country. i do too. but the etiquette behind openly photographing someone gets complicated. do you ask first? do you offer payment? do you try to sneak a pic from across the street? or is your camera not even an appropriate accessory for the setting at all? people of some cultures are insulted by someone gawking and taking photos of them simply because they look different. people of some cultures will gladly pose, but then expect payment. some would be insulted by payment. some even have a visceral fear of the camera, because a photo will capture a piece of their soul…


because of these vast differences among cultures, and even the individual differences in opinion that, of course ,exist among the individuals within a culture, i am very wary of taking photos of people directly.


today, however, something funny happened. here i am, on my daily walk home from the beach after watching the sunset and sampling the array of cheap street foodies that roll by on their mobile kitchen carts. i must clearly be looking extra white, foreign, and out-of-place. i don’t know if it’s my semi-sunburned skin or my bright red sundress, but something has made me hear the word “farang” an awful lot more than usual. then, out of nowhere, a middle aged woman i am passing on the fairly crowded beach sidewalk looks at me with pure excitement etched on her face. “farang, farang!!!” she yells excitedly, camera in hand. i am instantly surrounded by other middle-aged thai men and women, seemingly her friends and family that she is dining with on the beach. men on either side of me are smiling at the woman’s camera, which she is happily snapping away. so what could i do? i too smile widely in the camera’s direction, much to the amusement of the crowd of thais congregating in their comparative shortness at my shoulders. the groups shift, so that everyone gets their turn with the apparently very silly looking farang girl. i even put my arm around my last portraitmate, a thai woman, probably mid-thirties, who looks slightly embarrassed by the actions of her companions, yet still excited for the photo op.


i walk away still smiling from such a blunt and unexpected perspective-shifting experience on an issue that i have been muddling over in my mind for years. true, these people didn’t have the english knowledge to actually ask me to take a photo with them. but my clear happy acceptance of their gestures and points at the camera would have washed away any reluctance (if they had any…) nor did i get a proper “thank you” for my modeling services (in fact, i said thank you to them, just because i didn’t know how else to end such a strange ordeal…) but i clearly wasn’t bothered by that either, happy to provide my silly sunburned farang look if it was needed to complete the ultimate pattaya weekend photo op for that family (from god knows what part of the remote hills of thailand they came from, given such excitement at seeing a westerner…).

playtime!

appearances are everything in thailand. as long as things look good, they must be good. (right?!?) take my school for example... the rainbow shine of brightly-colored fun-shaped play equipment screams “safe!” “entertaining!” and “child-friendly” to prospective pattaya parents. to prospective working holidayers delaying grad school for the lure of travel, it screams “quality work environment!” and “child-development-supportive atmosphere!” the lure of this undeniably child-centered atmosphere is intoxicating.



every day the play equipment is laboriously wiped sparkly clean by the same janitor (when i feel stressed out by the 3 year olds running in circles to their own tune of ear splitting screaming, i can’t help but feel guilty of being ungratefully self-piteous when i happen to walk by the janitor, a thai girl around my age, scrubbing the indoor play area floors for the 10th time that day and making sure the red and blue slides are 100% free of dust…). and the outdoor trampoline and intricate slide/swing structure is only five steps away from the complete indoor play area of two extra large play structures complemented with every type of bike, bouncy, and rocking self-locomotion device imaginable. but the school invested another hefty sum for a glass-walled building at the front entrance with a foamy climbing play area, art and craft setup, and library. the full-glass front of the building, being the key design element, of course. parents can see every detail inside to allow the wistful mental image of their happy smocked child sitting and painting with the utmost expression of 4-year-old joy. or the picture of their 2 year old energetically climbing the gushy rainbow play structures, to help assuage the anxiety of leaving them at school for the first time.


one notion seems to have been forgotten in their grand design scheme of theirs. kids are just kids. give them a pile of dirt and some rocks to climb and they won’t hesitate delving straight into their next fire breathing dragon or beautiful barbie princess adventure. they don’t need aesthetically pleasing shapes to their playtime accessories. they don’t need to be clean. or even new. and they certainly don’t need to be sponsored by the happy image of bumble bee® currently proudly announcing its sponsorship at the very front of the new kiddie fishbowl.


but bright colors are nice, and cleanliness is appropriate for the school. the kids are happy, the parents are happy, and the teachers are happy. the only problem is how scared i am to actually use these facilities. i already got the most death stares from all the thai teachers in the kindergarten building when i finally got the ok to test out the unheard of concept of “playtime,” letting my little monkeys go crazy for twenty minutes during the time scheduled for sitting their 3-year-old butts down in stiff-backed chairs for me to teach them “science.” whatever that’s supposed to mean to 3-year-olds. i’m already pretty unconcerned about any uncomprehending gaze sent my way in response to whatever strange teaching technique i might be employing, such as “playtime.” i’m just worried my class of monkey children, who are after all haven’t even reached the ripe and well-disciplined thai age of 4 yet, might misplace a giant primary-colored lego, not stack the foam pads straight enough, or heaven forbid, disorganize the rainbow sheets of paper in the art room. i’m worried our scheduled “playtime” in the giant fishbowl room will result in a show for parents of little rambunctious kiddies running and doing crash jumps into the lego structures, hitting eachother over the head with the foam blocks, and making airplanes and crumpled balls out of the nice rainbow sheets of paper instead of sitting quietly at the table using the paper to create pretty pictures of rainbows and houses. in other words, i’m worried the fishbowl might expose the reality that *gasp* these ARE just little kids! they don’t play in nice organized peaceful disciplined ways, they just go crazy and play because that’s what kids do.