Miss Erika in Thailand

Although some of you have probably been thinking that I’ve abandoned the blogging altogether, I’ve got some decent excuses…for example, I’ve been spending the last month celebrating my birthday!  It’s not a particularly monumental year and considering the birthday packages from my family arrived a good two weeks in advance (so organized), I felt like it was only natural to start the festivities at that time as well!

Dress courtesy of mum.  Necklace also courtesy of mum (or Rae and Ian…can’t remember), but from a previous birthday.

I had to teach at the high school in the morning.  As a special happy birthday treat to me, classes were shortened twenty minutes and only the girls studied as the boys had to march with the scouts.  I made them sing happy birthday to me anyway!

Unfortunately, because it was only the girls studying, the class was so much quieter and everybody was forced to participate.  Those students who are usually able to blend into the background and give one of two answers per class, had to actually speak…clearly and loud enough for me to hear.  It wasn’t pretty - especially after a twenty minute review of the simple past tense and one of the girls offered ‘red’ as the past tense form of ‘enjoyed’.  How does that even happen?

Feeling deflated and a useless teacher, my own head teacher offered to pay for a midday massage.  Two hours later and I felt as right as rain!  Then, I walked into the office and to this sight:

A happiness plant from P’Lek (who doesn’t even work for the school anymore), a bouquet of flowers from a co-worker, a hand made card from another co-worker, chocolate muffins (oh, wait, I made those), this cool plastic light that the Thai girls chipped in to get and…gummy dinosaurs (my absolute favorite!).

What I wasn’t expecting came next, when the Thai girls took me outside to give me my very ‘special’ present:

Oh my…naughty!

So, I then made my two Mathus classes celebrate with me by having a small 15-minute party at the end of each class.  The video footage is from that.  Oh, and the Shakira dancing is something else very special.  In honor of the World Cup, the Colombian hip-gyrating goddess, Shakira, came out with Waka Waka (This Time for Africa).  Shakira and I have a special relationship, considering I revamped her “Hips Don’t Lie” song for one of my final presentations in graduate school, complete with pulsating hips!  My classmates said that would never be able to look at Shakira again without thinking of me!   In addition, Shakira is also a part of 1GOAL Education For All foundation and has asked people around the world to video tape themselves dancing the Waka Waka dance and posting it on You Tube, in response to her video.  I played the video the day before my birthday to see if there were any takers…the girls got really excited by the prospect of ‘Wai-ing’ and dancing at the same time!  So, that footage is also included in the video.

In the evening, we celebrated by singing Karaoke at a local restaurant - private room, exceptional Thai food and my homemade carrot cake (decorated with a carrot) to top it all off.  It seems that oftentimes birthdays can be so much better when you are away from home because everybody really puts the effort in to make it special, knowing that you’re away from friends and family.  Even though I do harp on about the birthday for weeks beforehand (naturally), I never really expect anybody to physically get me anything.  I’m totally happy with company and a handmade card.  This year, I managed to get it all.

This past month has been a sea change for me at Mathus.  My head teacher and best friend, Shaun, left to go home. 

Obviously, Shaun’s not as upset as I am about this fact.

We’ve had four new teachers start in the last three months and there is another female teacher coming next week.  This is in addition to the new head teacher, Peace.  Term finished end of March and camps started.  I missed out (tongue-in-cheek) on having to teach camp due to the excess of teachers, but picked up several private classes instead. Mathus has always offered private classes, and I have periodically taught an hour here and there over the past eighteen months.  It’s so different to teaching kids, especially during camp because the camp kids are rarely regular Mathus students and come in with a much lower level of English.  It can be difficult to enforce the ‘No speaking Thai’ classroom rule.

The first set of ten hours was supposed to be eight ‘Muang’ high school teachers, interested in improving their English speaking skills.  Muang is the high school I teach at during the year – initially, I though I was going to be teaching my colleagues and was cringing at the thought…luckily, these weren’t the Thai English teachers (although a couple could do with the speaking practice), they were from other departments (social studies, biology, mathematics and computers). 

Typical Thai style – I thought there were going to be eight teachers at 10 a.m. on a Monday, and I end up with five by 10:20 a.m.  I expected them to be fairly low.  They confessed to never speaking English in everyday life, but all expressed an interest in being able to speak with foreigners, exchange students and improving their basic conversational skills.  Right off the bat, I liked them.  Of the five teachers, one was a man (how typical) and was easy to joke with.  He actually only came the first day, as did two of the others, but then I picked up two more so I ended up with three solid students and one semi-solid.  It seems this English class was voluntary and free for them.  I don’t blame them – who’d want to be stuck with me on their summer vacation?

Nop, Somjit and Nok.

The three solid students were veteran teachers (averaging 20 years each at Muang school).  They were also at a surprisingly high level with their English and I had a young, first-year teacher join us half-way through who added some welcome spice (and youth) to the pool.  She studied English in college for five years, she was bright and very interested in learning in English.

For the first time in a few months, I was actually having to research topics that I was going to teach, for fear of getting it wrong (those of you who know me well know that I have a tendency to mispronounce certain words or use them incorrectly).  I was back to my language pedagogy books to figure out the scope and sequence for the week (basically what exactly I was going to teach them).  It’s always a little difficult when the only requirement is ‘conversation’ – that’s a large umbrella for speaking skills.  I was able to map out the week with the help of BBC Learning English website and had listening and speaking skill targets such as “agreeing and disagreeing, showing interest, expressing likes, dislikes and no strong feelings and describing and identifying people”.  It was awesome!  I spent my planning time in the office practicing my language targets.  For example, showing interest: “Really?”  “That’s so interesting!”  “Gosh, how fascinating!”  In class, we had real conversations where they would read various controversial statements out loud and then agree or disagree with them.  It was so great to be able to talk about real-life situations – the current political situation, prostitution in Thailand, sport and fitness and their concept of ‘beautiful.’  It was a taste…a taste of teaching English at a higher level and I must confess, I want more.

It made me realize that although I love the little kids, after awhile, “What color do you like?” and “What’s your favorite animal?” get real old.  I’m lucky that I am moving with my students as they progress, but the progress is slow in a foreign language setting.  Typically, the level of English in Thailand is fairly low compared to other countries (Vietnam and Cambodia in particular).  I remember when all I wanted was a ‘guy who is able to use modals!’   You know something is wrong when that’s my biggest requirement!

In addition to the Muang teachers, I also had the fortune to teach Dtudto (incredibly difficult name to pronounce based on the fact that the Thai language has a sound that is in between d and t and therefore best written as dt) pronounced ‘dute-do’ sort of!

 ”Dtudtu”

She is a 22-year old Masters student on her way north to Khon Khaem University to study in the Faculty of Veterinarian Science.  She wants to be an animal scientist and work for the agricultural industry.  Her favorite animal?  The dairy cow.  What would she do with a million dollars?  Buy her own dairy farm.  I loved her!  She was a student, a true student – she had established study habits – she took notes, she asked questions, she discussed, she argued politics and she kept her own translations of how you pronounce certain words.  She was the absolute ideal student and the future of Thailand. 

It has been difficult to meet students of her caliber thus far.  In part, this is due to the fact that the high school I teach at is ranked one of the lowest in the city and because my classes at Mathus are with young children.  It was so satisfying to listen to her talk and know that certain things she was able to say was a direct result of my instruction.  Talk about seeing first-hand the fruits of my labor.  She and I are now Facebook friends and I will probably continue to stalk her!  So as not to forget her though, I made sure I took some decent ‘travel’ photos of her!

(Somebody else’s photo)

There is something to be said for how different cultures celebrate New Year and right now, Thailand is in first place in regards to pleasure, amusement, and good fun.  “Songkran” or Thai New Year is Thailand’s biggest public holiday and although technically it’s only three days, the festivities can last anywhere from one to three weeks.  I headed to Chiang Mai for the action and was pleasantly surprised by what I found.  As with Chinese New Year, it is custom for Thais to clean house a couple of days before and tie up any loose ends at work or in relationships.  Traditionally you spend the holiday with your family, resulting in mass movement of people across the country.  City people head back to their villages and foreigners head to the cities, ready to maximize their experience.  I was one of said foreigners.

One of the traditional beginning rituals involves visiting the temple and pouring rose water on the hands and feet of Buddha images, monks and elders.  It is a show of respect and a cleansing ritual – washing away the bad deeds and purifying the body for the upcoming year.  Only the most familiar take the chance of pouring the cold water down the backs of the novice monks, an odd but friendly gesture.  In addition, people also make offerings to the monks and elders – care packages with food, water and personal necessities.  In return, the elders bless you and tie a good luck white yarn around your wrist.  I received two; others had the bracelets going half way up their arm – they are obviously in for a spectacular year!  This is the very meaning of Songkran and in the old days, it was mainly restricted to the temple, but this is not what it has become…

  (from Richard Barrow’s Paknam.web photo album)

People warned me of the water fight…I saw the preparations involved with people stocking up on water guns, canons and plastic buckets, huge water barrels hoisted onto the beds of pick up trucks ready for action.  I wasn’t prepared for how much fun I would have, or the personality that I would take on.  Armed with a $6 Doraemon water gun, I was a Charlie’s Angel and ready to ‘take down’ (soak) anyone that got in my way.

 I was traveling with a large group of people; we planned it that way – one big party, spring break at it’s finest.  However, unlike Spring break, we weren’t a bunch of horny college students looking to get laid (at least I wasn’t), we were hard working teachers ready to immerse ourselves in Thai culture and experience this ‘crazy’ holiday everybody had been talking about.  Last year, I left the country.  This time, I wanted to experience the wildest party imaginable.

 We arrived in Chiang Mai two days before the official start, but already people were pulling the trigger and refining their aim.  Chiang Mai is one of the biggest Songkran cities in part because of its history and its large, easily accessible water supply.  The old city is surrounded by a moat and a one-way ring road.  This was the heart of all the action.  A friend of ours has a bar/restaurant along the moat.  It provided a home base for the group – a place to hide plastic-bagged wallets, use restroom facilities and take refuge from the incessant soaking.

We dressed accordingly: swimsuits under a simple T-shirt and shorts – nothing too revealing and also nothing that couldn’t get wet and stay wet for several hours.  We stocked up on our defenses: Mickey mouse, Doraemon, Spider man, and Princess super soakers-those with the backpack reservoir were more favorable and meant longer soakings.  Some of us preferred to just get a simple bucket – 50 cents and you were good to go.  Some of us opted for the simple suction ‘bicycle pump’ style water gun.  You had to refill it in between each use, but it was a quick refill from a bucket and the stream was strong and long.  That’s what we were looking for – good coverage and strength.  A few of the more ‘manly’ men amongst us weren’t satisfied with just one water gun.  They wanted to have a few extra ‘shoved’ down their pants.  I’m not kidding when I say the inner child in everyone was starting to show through and not just in defense choices, also in the way they went about their attack and how much they were game for.

I do have a couple of great photos from the holiday, but not on my camera.  No one was really game to break the camera out amongst all the water.  Highlights of the three days of water carnage were: 23 year-old Novo Scotian Nicolas walking on the front lines calmly shouting one-liner commentary before blasting the bedazzled victim, “Hey, grinning white guy.  I don’t think so, blast.”  25 year-old Bryan wearing a wife beater and army colored bandana running through the streets with one gun strapped around his chest, two small pistols down the front of his pants and another pump gun in the back.  He was having the time of his life.  There were also a couple of guys that were just out for the reaction.  People had their buckets tied to string and would throw them into the moat to refill and then dump over people next to them, people walking in the street, or people driving by on motorcycles, bicycles or pick up trucks.  Everyone was laughing and having a good time.  Music was blasting out of bars and restaurants – it was good-humored and clean fun.  I was surprised at how safe and respectable it seemed even though there were thousands of people and people were drinking and letting off steam.  It felt a long way from the political tension that has been brewing in Bangkok during the month of April.

When I first arrived in Thailand and experienced those moments of ‘white skin idolization,” when a random Thai person tried to touch my skin or exclaimed forthrightly “Pew soi” (beautiful skin) before even a simple ‘Hello’ was exchanged, it was quirky and innocuous.  Now, when somebody tells me I am beautiful because I have white skin, I am immediately defensive, irritated and have dismissed whatever else they will say to me because I already consider them shallow and ill informed.  But, when the cosmetics industry and it’s aggressive ‘whitening cream’ marketing is one of the fastest growing sectors in Thailand, this notion of ‘white is beautiful’ is more than just skin deep.

The concept of being healthy and exercising properly is a little different in Thailand.  I joined a gym here almost a year ago.  Membership was cheap ($90/year) and the facility was brand new.  It didn’t advertise itself as a gym though, it actually advertised itself as a ‘spa’ including fitness rooms, sauna, relax coffee shop, free Wi-Fi access and massage.  Lots of money was pumped into the appearance of the place – large water features in the front, orchids and plants dotted around the property, a huge air-conditioned coffee shop with big, plush leather sofas and nice upscale tables and chairs.  The fitness rooms were separated for men and women.  Essentially, the men were on the left and then women were on the right.  “Men like to look at women” was the answer I got from one of the employees when I inquired as to the reason behind this split – well, isn’t that a good thing?  In addition, each changing room had two large Jacuzzi pools, one hot and one cold, for relaxation and socializing.

The equipment was also brand new, but a little sparse.  Two treadmills, one recumbent bike, one upright bike, an elliptical and two fat jigglers.  This is the machine you stand on, turn on and have your fat ‘jiggled’ away at your own speed and for your desired time.  There is a laminated ‘instructions’ poster just to the right of the machine, detailing the many positions you can have when on the machine depending on which bit of flab you want to target.  Of course, this machine is in the highest demand during peak hours! 

The weights area in the girl’s section

Looking in the other direction - gives you an idea of the room’s small size.

The plush coffee shop (that nobody ever really uses).

The jacuzzi pools in the woman’s changing room.

Within six months, both male and female fitness rooms were relocated to the coffee shop area and construction had started on the old rooms.  They were expanding the original rooms, hopefully adding more machines, and providing a larger weights area, exercise balls and yoga mats.  It was strange to work out with men again during this time, especially when I would often be trailing a Thai guy on the weights and we would be lifting the same!  Some of these guys are pretty scrawny.

Anyway, it seems like I’m getting off topic from the skin whitening creams…bear with me.  Today, I am back in the original ‘women’s’ fitness room with more space, fewer machines (because they have since broken and there isn’t anyone to repair them) and the ability to watch TV whilst working out.  This is when I get my Thai TV fix – during my sweaty (literally every pore of my body sweats) cardio work-outs.  This is when I watch the terrible, but absurdly popular, Thai soap operas and try and guess what all the white-skinned Thai actors and actresses are saying.  Yes, that’s right, white-skinned – these people are whiter than me!  They are usually not saying anything too interesting – the beautiful (read: drop-dead gorgeous) female is usually getting slapped about by the effeminate looking male lead, because she has been messing around with another (not so effeminate looking) male actor.  In an hour, you can expect at least two of the women have vigorously sobbed, one of the guys has been beaten up, a gun has been displayed at some point and the police have appeared on screen.  Just your typical Thai day, really!

Interspersed with these dreadful Thai soaps are the even more horrendous Thai commercials.  From what I’ve seen so far, I’m going to hazard a guess that 90% of the TV advertisements are for skin whitening creams and weight loss ‘somethings’.  ‘Beautiful’ white skinned women hop around the screen, foolishly trying to zip up their (already size 0) jeans before being handed a cup of ‘weight loss’ coffee or their (size 2) waist gets digitally shrunk after eating a yogurt or drinking milk.  What is associated with health in Thailand?  White skin, yogurt, milk and…coffee?

It seems the skin whitening craze runs parallel to the global trend of cosmetic surgery and Botox injections in the west.  Thailand has its fair share of that as well; the main street in Surat Thani is littered with cosmetic places and skin clinics.  But, the most surprising are all these skin whitening products you can buy at the chemists, supermarket, corner store – even 7-11.  The products are not just limited to the face, on the contrary, you can buy deodorants that whiten darker patches of skin in the armpits and “pink nipple” lotion that lighten the brown-colored pigment of nipples.  These creams, lotions, scrubs, body washes and deodorants either act by inhibiting melanin (skin pigment) production, or they contain acids that remove old skin and essentially bleach your skin.

I wonder, are they safe?  Is bleaching your skin really considered safe?  It sure doesn’t sound good.  Well, after doing some research, it seems the biggest risk is in buying counterfeit versions with undisclosed ingredients.  Thailand is certainly the land of the knock-off and dangerously so.  Cheap skin whiteners may contain steroids, hydroquinone (a carcinogin) and mercury (a poison which targets the nervous system).  It’s not uncommon for dermatologists to be treating a patient whose skin has been severely discolored and scarred from years of skin whitening.

So, even at the risk of all these severe side effects, why does every Thai person I know acknowledge and accept the use of skin whiteners?  Why is white skin so beautiful?   Why is the stigma of dark skin deeply rooted in the Thai language?  “Tua Dam” (black body) is a common insult and if you really want to get at someone, “dam tap pet’ (black like a duck’s liver) works every time.  None of the Thai teachers at the Kindergarten will openly admit that they like ‘black’ (it’s not even black) skin.  It’s always one of the first questions people have for me.  Do you have a boyfriend?  Do you like Thai men?  Do you like black skin?  Even the darker skinned Thais I know won’t date darker skinned people.  They are prejudiced against their own skin color!

Why does every Thai girl associate white skin with beauty and success?  They truly believe if the skin is white, the money and boys will come.  All the movie stars and superstars are white.  Well, there is this new term in Thailand, “Luk Kreung” which has become quite the thing.  Translated it means half child and it can be applied to both men and women.  It refers to someone who is half-Thai, half-Western with physical features such as lighter skin and more western style noses (compared to the flatter, wider Thai nose).  Many actors and models fall into this ‘Luk Kreung’ category and carry almost a hero-worship status.

Thais also admire the Koreans and Japanese.  Many of the popular girl and boy bands hail from Korea.  This part of Asia genetically has lighter skin, and Thai people idolize their music and their look.

The other part is that white skin is associated with people of higher social status and higher education levels.  The lower social classes are the laborers and farmers who are, by trade, exposed to the sun more often and therefore have the darker skin.  Thais will do anything they can to prevent themselves from being exposed to the sun – they use umbrellas when traveling outside in the sun, or you often see students covering themselves with their jackets or books as they move around outside.  It seems the stigma of dark skin is firmly rooted in this culture, which is good for me because it means that I am unquestionably beautiful!

“Do you want to go to the Fortune Teller with us tomorrow?”  “Well, okay then…even though I most certainly DON’T believe!”

Well, that’s a lie actually.  I believe up to a certain point.  I’ve had two readings in my life, both of them bought for me by friends.  The first one was by a woman in rural Vermont, who used a medium to communicate my future, and the second one was by a Quebecois astrologer.  Both were well reputed, but the astrologer from Quebec was far more impressive and exact with his reading.  He was actually the first person ever to mention that I would work with children in the future (this, at the time, was translated by me as ‘pediatrician’ because I was on the doctor-track and in the process of applying to several medical schools).

With Thailand being such a superstitious country, there are many ‘fortune tellers’ and tarot card readers.  The owner of the school, Penong, has been going to the same man for the past thirty years and she’s a no-bullshit, cut-to-the-chase kind of woman.  We’ve been talking about me going with her since I got here.  I trust her and what could it hurt?  I end up going with two of my Thai female friends instead: Pelek, who used to be the main administration person at Mathus and who is almost fluent in English, and Au, who is married to the old head teacher, Jason, and has a 8-month old daughter.

We arrive at a gated residence not very far from the high school that I teach at.  There is a scrawny older gentleman, wearing only shorts, staggering around the front yard.  We awkwardly park outside, but he instructs us to bring the car inside the gate.  I volunteer and he half-heartedly directs my revved reversal (first time driving a left-hand sided stick shift), he seems unimpressed with my parking skills.  I hazard a guess: this is him.  This is my ‘seeing doctor.’

We head to the back patio and the same man reappears, this time with a fan and a shirt.  His table is clean except for a book of obscure letters and numbers (oh, its in Thai!) and the largest magnifying glass I have ever seen.  It reminds me of the obscenely large TV my aging parents have just ordered!  He has a stack of papers with some sort of chart that looks like it needs to be filled in.  He asks for my birth year, in Thai.  Now, the Thai calendar is different to the international Gregorian calendar because the years are counted in the Buddhist Era that is 543 years greater than the Christian Era.  So, according to the Thai calendar, I was born in the year 2520 - this is a bizarre concept.  He then asks for my birth day and month and consults his little book for the magic numbers.  I was born on a Friday (this is important in Thailand because it dictates the choice of names you can have and your favorite color.  Friday is blue day in Thailand, which just happens to be my color…must be a coincidence that I’ve always thought this because it brings out the blue in my eyes!).  He fills in the chart on the white paper and ends up with ten numbers that he circles, joins in some special fashion and then avidly begins talking.

Filling in the chart with lots of important numbers as I look on expectantly…

Where to begin?

First and foremost: this upcoming year is going to be a very good year.  He repeats that over and over.  Emotionally, financially, physically – 33 seems to be MY year!  If I want to invest, this would be a good time to do it.  On the romantic side, an ex-boyfriend will reappear and so will a Thai man (two men?  What a floozy!)  The Thai man will be a teacher (at this point, he already knows I’m a teacher), probably born on a Tuesday or Wednesday, younger and with lighter skin tones.  Apparently, the darker skinned man is no good for me.  The ex-boyfriend is an older man (anyone spring to mind?). 

Second, I am happy living in Thailand.  I have friends; I enjoy my time, my job and the culture.  However, if I wanted a change for more money or for a new culture, that would be fine too.  Initially, due to relocation expenses, it would’t be any better financially, but in the long run it would work out.

He gives me lots of positive reinforcement:  I’m a good teacher, creative and energetic.  Everybody loves me (Penong especially), including my students and it doesn’t matter where I am, I will always be successful.  Teaching, he confirms, was the right career choice for Miss Erika.  I am intelligent, honest and self-confident (it’s like he’s known me for years!).  Well, he actually said I was stubborn, but I’m putting in my own translation!  I sometimes take on a male personality in that I am forthright and not afraid to say how I feel (could explain the fear in men’s eyes).  I have a healthy body, but I think too much and it results in an unhealthy mind.  I should be careful with spicy foods because I may have problems later on in life.  Hmm…Incidentally, I have been having issues with spicy foods over the past month…perhaps I should heed his advice.

These were all the things I liked!  Some of the things he said (and he must have talked for forty minutes) didn’t bode well.  He said I didn’t have expensive taste and that I liked to bargain for the best price (I absolutely loathe bargaining and anybody who knows me knows I don’t blink at spending $200 on a good pair of jeans).  He also said that I like the younger man – HA!  Again, anyone who knows anything about me knows that my preferred age-range is closer to fifty than thirty!  Can’t win ‘em all.

Upon reflection, I should have tape recorded the session.  He said a lot, almost twice as much as he said to my friends, and I’m forgetting already.  They also had readings but the translation for me stopped.  They seemed to ask a lot of questions – I should have done more of that.  Overall, it was a very positive experience.  It seems I don’t have to creep to thirty on tiptoes, full of dread for what’s to come.  Now, I can charge ahead with guns blazing: this is the year of Erika!

I’m at the point where I’m revisiting weekend destinations.  I was in Khao Lak this past weekend, on the Andaman Coast.  I was there over a year ago with a friend.  We snorkeled in the Similan Islands, one of the best diving spots in the world; it was one of the highlights of last year.  Remarkably, few of the teachers have traveled here, even though it’s only three hours away by bus, preferring instead to hit the more popular Phuket or Krabi areas.

Tragically, this area is also known for something else - it was one of the worst places hit by the Tsunami in 2004.  The final death toll at the time was 4000, but the unofficial death toll was estimated at being closer to 10,000 due to the illegal Burmese workers.

The identification process has been widely debated over the years because so many bodies were burned before the identification could take place.  I remember one hotel owner from Phuket (another area greatly affected) saying, “Do you have any idea what happens to a body after being immersed in salt water for hours?”  No, I can’t imagine.  He was very much involved in the rescue effort and critical of how it was handled.   “They sprayed the bodies almost immediately with **** (don’t remember the name), which halts the decaying process and aids in eliminating the odor, but also wipes out any possibility of DNA identification.”  I don’t know if the authorities had much choice in the matter, there was the health and hygiene of those who survived to think about…but, forever living without any solid closure on the whereabouts of loved ones, that has got to be harder.