Life Sux

(For those of you that are fortunate enough to not live in this god forsaken town, SUX is the airport and international code for Sioux City.)

No, things aren't going well but they've recently crossed the line into where they are going so badly it's funny. I had to find a new place, I'm flunking nutrition, I still can't find a job (although I have gotten a bunch of very lovely rejection letters from Mercy), my car is in the shop, and it's getting cold.

The place where I was staying didn't work out, and I wanted to try to find a new place before the end of the month. I looked at the ads and found a cheap furnished place near my school and went to check it out. When I got there, it took me a few seconds to pinpoint what was wrong with it-- no kitchen. I shrugged and thanked the nice man for his time and went to look at a few more places. But that little one-room "apartment" kept popping back into my mind. It was cheap, available, and actually quite well furnished with a bed, dresser, chairs and tables. It did have a fridge and a microwave. And all the utilities were paid, which in my mind translated nicely to three less things to remember every month. In the end, I decided to take it. I found a $9.99 single electric range at Walgreens and now I am all set, assuming that I can ignore the fact that I have to do my dishes in the bathtub. Fortunately I just got back from a place where food was cooked over open flame and I haven't had time to get picky.

Not only that, but I have irrefutable evidence that god hates me. It happened while I was driving to my new place. IO was in my car, everything I own in the backseat and was stopped at a light at the corner of my new place when I heard a loud pop. At first I thought that I was being shot at, but having lived in warzones I was enough of a gunshot connoisseur to know that the sound wasn't just right. My second thought was that something in my luggage was compressed and had exploded. I turned around to look at the back seat to check my stuff and I saw that my entire back windshield was completely shattered.

No, I have no idea how it happened. The people at the glass place are pretty clueless as well. The obvious answer is a rock, but rocks don't come flying at you on their own when you are at a standstill at a stoplight. This isn't Hogwarts. The light changed and I pulled into the apartment parking lot. I got out of the car, staring open-mouthed at what used to be my back window and was now a mass of spiderwebed glass. My one consolation was that the glass was still intact (thanks to the safety glass combined with the defrosting wiring) and that it would remain that way for a few days until I finished moving in. As I had this thought, I closed the driver side door and the entire window fell out of the frame into the backseat.

I'm starting to think that maybe I should have just stayed in Thailand.

You've Got To Be Kidding

After more then three weeks of waiting, I finally got an interview for a nursing position at a local big hospital. As being an Secretary/Energy Clerk/Temp Worker is getting old real quick (see next post) I placed a ton of hope on the interview. Three different outfits, two showers, and no less then fifteen minutes of practice in front of a mirror later, I finally got into the car and drove to the hospital's HR department.

I made a great, impression, if I do say so myself. My interviewer was a Peace Corps wanna-be and had a bunch of questions about my background. Everything that flew out of my mouth was perfect-- the fact that I was a nursing student didn't hurt none neither. Anyway, the interview quickly took a downturn when she discovered my full-time-student-status and came to understand that I couldn't work full time or weekdays. The nursing assistant position that I was interviewing for required that.

But never fear. The hospital is a big place, and while opening a thick file marked “open positions”, my interview told me that there were many opportunities. She glanced through my resume, looked at my work history, and flipped a few pages. Here, she told me, was a perfect opportunity. Part time, mostly weekends. Good pay. Challenging. Flexible. I was all excited until she closed the book and leaned towards me, completely serious...

“How does a Unit Secretary sound? With your computer skills you'd be perfect...”

Adventures of a Tyson Temp

My job continues on. It is still depressing, but now for a new reason. You see, as a job it's actually rather hard. I'd say about 75% of it is entering lists of numbers into different lists and that part is difficult in it's mindlessness and tedium. But when I am not doing that, I am doing work that really requires every bit of my critical thinking and logic skills-- which, if I do say so myself, are considerable. For example, I might have to enter a number. I don't know where the number is supposed to come from. So I have to go to the previous month, look at that number, and then pull the records from that month and hunt for the number. Sometimes I find the number-- that's the easy one. Usually, however, the number is actually two numbers added together, a number multiplied by another number (which can range from the easy: a 0.1 multiplier or the impossible, a 42 multiplier). Or sometimes the number is wrong. From what I am seeing, my predecessor was a real idiot and made lots of mistakes. Another part of my job is fixing all the mistakes that she made.

Every now and again I get a monthly report and a few of the numbers invariably don't match up with mine. At this point I have to go back into the weekly reports and find the wrong numbers. These numbers were taken from the difference in a meter reading, so I have to compare the start and end meter readings until I find one that was keyed in wrong. The meter readings are about 8 numbers long. (I am impressed, by the way, if you have managed to read this far.) The highlight of my day is when I find a mistake and I get to rip a new one into some poor meter-reading clerk in Texas or somewhere.

So why is this depressing? Well, I have determined that you need a college degree to be able to handle this job. The reason that it's depressing is that I know that the fifty or so people that sit around me are doing basically the same jobs. It depresses me to think that four years of college and lofty dreams and ambitions this is the best that they can do, and they are probably going to be stuck here for the rest of their lives, arguing with Texan energy clerks about broken meters and how many pounds of edible product where produced in the week ending 10/21/07. That's why I'm depressed. Those poor people.

I Just got the Clep

I just took a CLEP exam. CLEP stands for "College Level Examination Program" and is the new way to get out of college credits. English Composition was one of the courses that I needed and I flat out refused to take it after 3 years of teaching English. I figured that I would ace the exam but got books from the library anyway.

(Man, I love the library. I can't believe that before I left America I used to just take such a wonderful resource for granted. Take it from me, kids. Go and visit your local library today. And give them money. They probably deserve it.)

Anyway, I took the first practice test and got a 70%. That wasn't great, but not bad either. I did some studying and took another test and got a 67% More studying and testing later caused my grade to sink down to 61% I decided to just stop studying at that point and just take the damn test.

Let me give you an example of one of the evil little questions that the test offers. See if you can see the problem before moving on:

In today's modern world, it can be rather difficult to connect with friends, family, and peers.


Highlight for the answer: The answer is that modern should be struck as redundant. Now although I can certainly see why the test writer would feel that way, I think that it's a debatable point and standardized multiple-choice questions should not be debatable! Modern can mean "from today" or it can serve as an adjective-- the opposite of "classic". Jane is a classic dresser in jeans and a sweater, Electra is a modern dresser in a leather skirt and boots. They can be wearing clothes that were designed and made on the same day, just bought in different stores

Having said all that, I am actually a lot more amiable towards the exam since I scored a 71/80. The girl at the desk was pretty impressed, as the passing requirements were only set at 50. If only they had a test for Anatomy...

Welcome to the Jungle

Well, I finally got a job. I am working for Tyson Meats. No, I am not on the line slaughtering cows-- I'm not that desperate, although after two weeks of unemployment I was beginning to worry that it might come to that. The job market here is terrible!! I guess that Gateway (remember them?) took off and left a ton of computer workers here. So the skills that I thought would be very much in demand are actually a dime a dozen. Plus no computer biz wants to hire a nursing student, even if they did used to work for Microsoft. They know that they aren't going to get their 110%.

It's just 16 hours a week, which might actually work well for me since I am taking three classes (Nursing Assistant, Developmental Psychology, and Nutrition). I basically sit at a desk all day and enter data from the individual plants into spreadsheets while wondering why they just don't network all the systems so that the data gets automatically entered the first time that it is entered in. I thought about suggesting this but then thought better when I realized that such a change will cost me my job. I am taking a measly $9 and hour, which is the highest paid job that I have had in three years and only the third-lowest paying job that I have had in my life.

It is rather depressing, however. The first item that goes into the spreadsheet is "Heads Slaughtered" followed by a very big number. I spent eight hours today cataloging all the thousands cows and pigs were killed to allow me to earn my $9 an hour. The detached way that they were listed as slaughtered, processed, and turned into "lbs. of product" seemed so cold, especially when I considered that aside from me there was probably no one else who stopped to think that it was a shame that cow #6734 out of 214,539 cows had to die.

Other then that things are slow. Went to get my physical for nursing school and was amazed that the long and somewhat uncomfortable method of taking a temperature from when I was a kid has been basically reduced to waving a wand over the forehead. Was also amazed that they managed to somehow make the TB test even more uncomfortable then it already was. The things that change after three years overseas...

Basic Life Support

Nursing goes well on Garretson Ave. Sarah finished her CNA course, loved it, and I will be starting it in about a week. CNA stand for "Certified Nursing Aide". A CNA generally works in a long-term care facility (like a nursing home) to provide care for the residents. Not exactly in my long term plan, but I think that working as a CNA will provide me with clinical experience that will help me a lot in my nursing courses.

Every little bit helps. Although it was MORE then 10 years ago (ack!) my limited stunt as an EMT is actually really turning out to help me. In the EMT course and working I probably took about 100 blood pressures, and the techniques that I used helped Sarah a lot in that part of her skills exam. It also helped me ace my BLS course that I took yesterday.

BLS, "Basic Life Support" is what most people think of general CPR. This class that I took yesterday was a bit terrifying. Things have changed since I left for Samoa-- they now teach us how to use AED (Automated External Defibrillator) but was really worrisome is how much they dumbed down the procedures. Although we were told that the new guidelines were just as effective, I really felt that they simply simplified the steps to a point where a trained service dog could probably be taught to give CPR. Which is great in that more people can give CPR-- but since effective CPR will break ribs and likely cause internal damage, is this really something that you want ANYONE to be able to do?

The instructor walked in an immediately assured the students that there was nothing to worry about in the class. She told us that the point of the class was to help us pass the test. "Don't worry, we WANT you to pass!" This alone got the red lights flashing in my brain-- I thought that the point was to learn how to save lives. Oh well, minor point. The new system is actually improved in that you spend a majority of time watching videos and practicing and lectures are actually cut down to almost nothing. The test is also better-- more common sense and "what do you do next" questions. Still, I seem to remember in the last BLS class I took in Seattle there was a lot more information and the skills were a lot more complex.

But the most important difference was that back then you didn't get the card unless you really knew what you were doing. We had one woman who didn't even pass the test and the instructor went over her wrong answers and made her do it again. Eek! I hope I don't collapse in front of her!

If you ask me, it's this results-oriented rather then process-oriented approach to problem solving that is ripping our society apart.

My Triumphant Arrival

Finally got the hell out of Chiang Mai and said goodbye to Thailand. My journey home was surreal... it was only about 15 hours by the watch. I left on the 12th and managed to travel back in time while in the air to the 11th just to have the 12th roll around again.

Anyway I am touched that you guys have been bugging me to keep up my blog even though I am in boring old America. Sioux City Iowa is truly scary in it's lack of anything to do... thank god that Sarah is here. Today we went to a chili bake off. Half of the free weekend paper is devoted to chili-based debates (beans or no beans?) and so I guess that's it's a pretty big deal here. Sure you guys want me to keep up this blog?

Why I Hate Chiang Mai

Well, I decided to "treat" myself by spending a few days in Chiang Mai before I left. Big mistake. I had forgetten how much I hate this town. In fact I think that the last 24 hours can be summerized as following: WAAHHH!! I WANNA GO HOME!!!

Rudeness persists. When I got to the guesthouse that I was supposed to stay at the woman did everything in her power to not let me stay. She saw my many bags and told me that she didn't have a room on the first floor. I told her that was fine, any floor was fine. She said that had a room on the 3rd floor. I sighed but then said that the third floor was fine. Wait, there wasn't a room on the third floor. Whatever, I said, just give me any room. She informed me that there was no bathroom in the room. Okay, I said. She told me that I would have to go across the hall to the shared bathroom if I wanted to take a shower. Great, I said, and I pulled out my wallet but she sighed loudly insisted that I look at the room first. I got the feeling that she was hoping I would change my mind. I was sweaty and tired but I didn't feel like arguing so I went upstairs, unlocked the door, looked inside, and came down with money in hand. When it was obvious that she wasn't going to get rid of my she reluctantly gave me a key and took my money, including a 100 baht deposit. She told that I could go to the room and take a shower. Yes, I got the hint. She also said that I could carry one bag, then come down and carry another. I smiled and thanked her as graciously as I could for the advice, which I then proceeded to follow. She watched me like a hawk, I guess to make sure that I indeed carried everything one at a time.

The good news is that I went to the dentist and was told that I have no cavities. I was happy and proud until she pointed out that due to the number of fillings that I have there are no more places for cavities to hide. I celebreated with a mocha smoothy (extra sugar) anyway.

Then I went to NES (The New Zealand English School) in Chiang Mai to try to claim the 5000 baht that was owed me. (I wasn't able to pick it in March since I had to leave so quickly.) Things went pretty fast downhill from there and I remembered why it will be a cold day in hell before I ever teach English again for cash. The director, Paul Chan, came out of his office and yelled at me, then told me that I should ask another teacher who spoke English, despite the fact that his English was fine. The receptionist told me that I should visit the office that I worked at. So, I went there and pretty much learned that they keep no available records and the time card was lost. I didn't really beleive this and pressed them a bit, and the director came in and came in to speak to me. He asked me what I wanted him to do. I asked him if there was a record that I worked there. At this point he started yelling and cursing at me saying that "he didn't give a fuck" and finally told me that he was going to get me "tied up and kicked out of Thailand". I asked him where this was coming from and two police came in that he'd apparently called before he came to talk to me. At this point I relized that I wasn't getting paid.

I sat in the office with the police wondering if it was possible for me to enter a country and not get arrested for something. The manager Paul Chan was screaming at them in Thai and it occured to me that for all I knew he could be saying that killed someone or stole something. I broke in, asking for a policeman who could speak English. A call to the tourist police got this. I was told what I already knew... I was free to go, I was not going to be tied up, and I wasn't getting paid since it was basically my word agaist to the director, who told me to "kiss my ass". I have never seen someone go so far to avoid paying someone.

I was pissed, but there's nothing I can do. I mean, it's only about $150, but damn it-- it was MY $150 that I worked damn hard for sitting in a hot classroom for 20 hours with a group of students that frankly were the worst I ever came across in my brief (and OVER, thank god) teaching career.

I wanna go home.

Goodbye CLC...

Well here it is, the last email that I will write from CLC's powerful and rather strange (but much appreciated) satilite dish. Tomorrow morning at 6AM I will hop onto a bus that will take to me to a bus that will take me to Chiang Mai. I decided to spend a few days days there. Among other things, I want to see the famous Wat Dai Sutup (or something like that) which is apparently the "thing to see" thing in Northern Thailand. (I am not too hopeful as I have yet to meet a tourist who talks up the temple more then they talk up getting wasted in Pai.) Early Wednesday morning I will hop on a plane and get back to America to start my new nursing adventure. Stay tuned!

Thanks everyone for following me around Thailand... see you on the flip side...

It's my party... I'll pass on the crying.

Kyaw Hlu Sien made the students throw me a goodbye party which unfortunately turned out to be an awkward affair. Despite the fact that I has specifically asked for no party, he told them to throw one anyway and didn't even bother to tell me-- I found out secondhand from a student. The food was great, but the entire time I sat there wishing that I had just taken off a week early and announced my departure with a note.

The Karenni Math teacher, Soray, ran the thing like a business meeting. He stood up and said stuff like "we don't have an agenda" and "this meeting is to thank our teacher, uh--" he stumbled over my name-- "Kim, and say goodbye." He asked the students to make speeches. Class 1, who I didn't have this year, get into an argument over who would have to do it. Yoom lost and stood up and said some forgettable things. Class 2 and 3 were better prepared and had their speeches written. Their speeches were a lot more thought out but unfortunately they didn't write them. Nee Eh could barely make it through hers, so peppered was it with new words. I appreciated the time that they had put into them but would have liked a speech that was made of their own words, even if there were mistakes.

I think that the worst bit, however, was when it came time for the teachers to give speeches. My expat compatriots couldn't do better then yelling out "Kim Rocks!" which was hardly moving. Soray, however, proved that this was indeed better then something. He alluded to something during our last meeting and I was pretty shocked by the event that he'd picked-- during the meeting Soray asked the teachers to come up with a schedule for testing. We'd already been in the meeting for an hour and I was getting tired. After some hmming and hawing I finally jumped up and the room watched in silence as a drew up a schedule for the week that allowed the classes to take their tests. After I sat down Soray told me that "this wasn't the way it was done here" and drew up a new schedule which I felt was lacking since it involved one teacher having three exams at once. "Then why did you bother asking me?" I wanted to say. I was surprised and hurt when Soray talked about this as the event that apparently defined my experience as a teacher ere. He said something about "cultures coming together" and I realized suddenly that the event was actually rather telling of my time here-- my opinion is asked then ignored because "it's not the way things are done here." Then why am I here? Good question. Throughout the three years one of the things that I am bothered by the most is being shown off as the resident American. I guess I am expected to just be white and be quiet.

Unfortunately, I am leaving way too late. I should have probably left about a month ago when I realized that teaching English was no longer something that I wanted to do. I have been really unhappy and I think that I will miss teaching about as I will miss shaking cockroaches out of my clothes in the orning. I just wish that I wasn't ending this whole thing on such a sour note.

Why'd it have to be snakes?

Note: This is a picture from the web: this is NOT my picture! I was watching over my class as they worked on a writing assignment today when I heard my cat calling for me. I poked my head outside and called to him so that he could find me, and he came running. At the same time, I looked down and saw a black snake about the size of my arm. Length-wise, that is, it wasn't as thick as my arm. In fact, it wasn't all that thick it all which told me that it was too skinney to be a constrictor and too big to survive on small animals like mice-- therefore, it was most likely poisonous. I darted forward to intercept the cat but was too late. Fortunately, the cat was too focused on my to notice the snake and it crawled away, but not before I noticed it's neck flatten out briefly. Good god, this snake was a cobra! I had no idea that they even existed in Thailand, so I did a quick search and found that they are actually quite common and quite poisonous. I am pretty sure that what I saw was an Indochinese Spitting Cobra, or Naja siamensis. Note that the picture is NOT the snake that I saw, but rather a picture that I found on the internet. I found out that "Naja siamensis possesses a deadly poison. In addition, the spitting of poison can lead to damage to the corneas." It then drove the point home by adding a triple skull-and-crossbones. Pretty cool, huh?

Everyone who knows me knows that snakes have never bothered me, but that isn't true for all other critters. I am really proud of how far I have come since I started traveling. True, I screamed at a spider the other day but only because it was about the size of my palm and crawling up my leg while I was reading. Another spider (black and yellow) ambushed me in bed and I just pounded on it with my fist and went back to my book. I remember when I first got to Samoa and found my first giant cockroach. I screamed and ran out of the room and got one of the boys to kill it and afterwards would have to spend ten minutes psyching myself up to enter the bathroom. Yesterday, when I was packing, a comparable bug crawled into my bag. I felt around picked it up by a wing, yelled at it, then tossed the thing outside. I wonder how long it will be after I get to the states until I go back to my old, arachnophobic self?

HELLOOO Nurse!!!

Sadly, my international adventure is about to come to a close after three years, but a new and more exciting one is about to start. I have just been accepted into St. Luke's nursing program in Sioux City, Iowa, to start in January. It's been a slow, long and difficult process and I can't believe that I finally found a program that will accept me.

After I get my degree, I am planning on heading out right away. I am thinking of re-joining the Peace Corps, then taking a position with Doctors without Borders or Care. But as my old Arabic teacher used to say, "small steps, Kim!" Let's see if I can get through the program first.

I can't believe that I am going back to Iowa!

Hormonal Problem Anyone?

Hey guys, I am working on an assignment for my Anatomy and Physiology and I need to talk 2 people who have a hormonal problem and 3 people who have a problem with the digestive system (I am looking at you here, Ram). If you can help he, shoot me an email and I will send you some questions. If you can't help me but can bullshit something real good, then shoot me an email anyway.

Back at CLC

Well, I'm back at CLC. My trip back from Mae Sot was uneventful. I managed to snag the front seat of the songtow to avoid seasickness, which was nice. I felt bad for the driver who was obviously used to having his passenger keep him amused for the six-hour trip. I was too tired to try and patch together a conversation made up of our 20-word shared vocabulary so I politely offered him some of my breakfast and then pointedly put on a pair of headphones.

About halfway between Mae Sot and Mae Sariang, there is a massive refugee camp. I am sorry that I don't have pictures, but my camera isn't working. It's huge, and every possible place is taken by makeshift houses with leaf roofs and bamboo floors. Some of the houses have walls, many don't even have that. This is the closest that I will get into a camp, as foreigners aren't allowed. This makes me angry-- if Thailand is ashamed of the camps, then they should fix them so that are are livable to the point where they can show them off to the press. Anyway, we picked up a man and two small kids (about 4 or 5 years old) and they were removed from the truck as we left the camp. As the man was led away with the two scared-looking kids, I noticed that he was missing a leg-- probably from stepping on a mine-- and was fitted with a prosthetic. Hopefully he was just returned to the camp, but I wanted badly to yell at the guard that took him away.

The police were very paranoid on the way up to Mae Sot-- every one of them took my passport and examined it. Perhaps this is because of the new law that would require them to wear a "Hello Kitty" armband if they break a minor law like overlooking a foreigner. On the way back they were calmer and only one asked for my passport-- of course, it could be that they were the same guards and they simple remembered me.

Back at CLC, very little had changed. No classes Thursday or Monday, which is fine with me because I am behind in my own classes. Friday was a speedbump between a day off and a long weekend and so one one really wanted to work. Monday is the Queen's birthday, and most Thais celebrate my treating it as a mother's day. So I had some of the classes make Mother's Day cards. This was a bit of a gamble as many of the poor kids either don't know who their mother it, or have a mother who is passed on or a refugee in another country. Some of the kids don't even know their parents names, and have no foster families to take a missing parent's place.

Visa'ed Up

Well, I got my visa and I am good to go until November although it's hard to say where I will be I will be when time for renewal comes up again.

I was a bit nervous about going through. Thailand has a law that says that you can only be in for 90 days at a time on a tourist visa. Now, I came in for 90 days on a tourist visa, and now I am on a new visa, so I am not sure if I am breaking the law or not. I don't think so, but if my name came up in their computer and they decided that I wasn't allowed to come back in there isn't much, as I learned back in March, that I can do about it!

So a little background for those unfamiliar with Thai visa laws: you can either get a 30 day or 90 day visa-- I have a 90 day. This means that every 30/90 days you have to leave Thailand and come back in, this is called a "border run". It's really, really stupid if you ask me. Most people just go to Mae Sai or Mae Sot, cross into Burma, get the enter and the exit stamp, and then cross back into Thailand-- a process that takes about 15 minutes, not including travel time.

It's particularly silly to me because my school is about 10km from the border, but I still have to travel 400km to get to one of the official checkpoints! Too bad the Kareni Army, who patrols the border, doesn't have visa stamps. The other annoying thing is that I have to fork over 500 baht to the Burmese government whenever I do this. I would much rather give the money to the Thais, and I don't know why they don't change their laws so that they can keep the money.

Heading to Mae Sot for a border run is always a little bit of a risk because they close the Mae Sot border so much. Mae Sot is considered "little Burma" and most of the signs are in Burmese. There are a lot of refugees, migrant workers, and illegals here, and it's also the flashpoint for protests and the hang out for NGOS and illegitimate aid organizations (illegitimate meaning that they are not recognized by the Thai government and operate under wraps, but also do most of the best work.) Anyway, all these means that there is a lot of potential for trouble, and when this happens they shut down the border and you can't get a visa.

Anyway, everything went fine. I left the country and decided to hang out in Burma for an hour. Myawaddy is a little border town that you can't leave (except to go back to Thailand). They actually don't let you in with your passport, you have to leave it at the office and they give you a temp. I took a quick hike around. I had tea in a real Burmese Teahouse with it's squat tables and what I imagined was political conversation at the next table (probably not). It was pretty chill except for a backfire or a firework or something that was very loud and gunshotish. I took a sip of my coffee and looked around to see if I should be alarmed, and all the patrons were staring at the farang to see what she would do. Sorry guys, no hysterics here.

The teahouse was really nice, and the guy who ran it was a cutie with a wide smile who I think accidentally almost way undercharged me for my coffee. It was clean and well put together. Outside, it was filthy and depressing, and I know that Myawaddy is probably one of the nicer Burmese towns because so many tourists have to see it. Dogs wandered around with their uteruses hanging to the sidewalk. Everyone was dressed in torn rags and spat bettlenut. The bridge was full of beggars, most of which were missing legs and arms. It was pretty appalling and depressing. Manners were low too, I got more "hey babies" in walking around for an hour then my entire 6 months in Mae Hong Son.

Back at the border, chatted with a nice Canadian couple that were getting thier visas renewed as well. The poor woman (a student of Thai) was a day late on her visa, and the Thai authorities really do a number of you as they hand out thier guilt. After the glares, you get a special stamp on your passport and have to fill out about three different forms, the entire time the office is staring at you like you committed some horrendous crime. I actually was three days late when I left Thailand last time and I thought that the Border guy was going to start crying at my apparent lack of respect for Thai law. Then you hand over 500 baht (about 15 bucks) a day for you subordinance.

I’m in Mae Sot for one more night, then I am taking the long trip home, but I think that I am going to break it into two days rather then one.

Run For The Border!

Remember those old Taco Bell commertials? "Make a run for the border! BOONG!!!" Well, that's what I am doing. Can't believe that it's been three months already and my visa is about to expire!

I am taking this as a minivacation which I dearly need. For about a week I am not thinking about classes, students who arn't learning the present tense, Anatomy and Physiology, Chemestry... you name it, I'm not thinking about it. I am in the happen' town of Mae Sot. I don't remember this place being so dingy! Mae Hong Son is a lot nicer, maybe I should have taken a vacation up there. The creepest thing about this place are the expats. I don't know where the volenteers hang out, all I see is fat white guys who have swanky buisnesses in town that are generally the cover for something else, or scary looking guys with a Burmese wife and baby in tow, looking like they are almost done with a plan to escape this place, probably leaving the new baby behind. I am already starting to miss my safe harbour of Mae Hong Son-- clean, friendly, and for the most part creep-free.

I will be going to Burma tomarrow. If the weather holds up, I think that I will hit Myawaddy, which is a small Burmese down set up for tourest crossing from Mae Sot. 100 baht says I will hate it.

Midterm Blues

They tell you in the Peace Corps to prepare for a feeling of sadness in the middle of your service, and that this is a pretty common feeling halfway though. I am finding that this is true whether you are serving for two years or one year or six months. Unfortunately for me, the condition is made worse by the fact that I already have a disposition towards depression.

I have had a good time with teaching, but I am getting ready to move on. For me, teaching comes easy. But the enthusiasm that is needed does not. For me, the hardest part of teaching is the feeling that I get when I am standing in a class that the students don't want to be there, and I feel a bit like an entertainment director on a slave ship. One of the classes is always demanding songs and games, but it's frustrating because the games that I come up with feel like work. I actually managed to even ruin Uno for the class by hiding the discarded card and making them play the game completely orally. (That is, you had to say "red three" and the next person would have to listen and put down either a red or a three.) This "jailkeeper" feeling has been difficult for me from the first day that I started teaching in Samoa. And I feel that were I a better teacher then my students would want to be there. I try to think of my best teachers and remind myself that even with them I only wanted to be in class about 40% of the time. I tell myself that I am holding myself to unrealistic goals, but it doesn't help too much.

My next career move will hopefully be in nursing where the object of my job will be to get rid of people so that I never have to see them again, rather then holding them hostage with an English book for an hour. I am really excited about this and have loved the three classes that I am taking. However, I haven't been hearing back from the school, which is also frustrating and depressing. This makes me upset with myself for being impatient, and the whole thing starts again. Still, I have a feeling that this will work out for the best, I just have to be patient.

The students this year are an incredible bunch, and they really are the only thing that is keeping me here. Whenever I think about leaving my students flash before my eyes and I put it off for another month.

Happy Buddhist Lent

Betcha didn't know that Buddhists have Lent, did you? I'm giving up cigarettes and alcohol. Which shouldn't be hard since I've basically given up on both anyway. But it's important to acknowledge the fact that I have given them up. Sort of a positive feed back loop (A&P term, Sarah gets it). Anyway, it's easier then giving up coffee.

We went to the temple to walk around the big thingy but it turned out that this was supposed to happen the next day. The next day the kids were too tired from picking bamboo shoots (or "shoot bamboo") to head back, and I was too tired from my run. So I guess we are all crappy Buddhists who will be reincarnated as chickens.

Poor kids had to rummage in the forest looking for bamboo to eat because I guess there isn't any other food here. Yesterday they had to kill one of the chickens.

Ignorance Was Bliss

I was reading through some of my old blog entries of Yemen and Samoa and realized that my life isn't as exciting at it was when I lived there. No being attacked by goons with firecrackers, no near-miss kidnaps in Marib, no students writing about the color of their panties. I think that a lot of this can be blamed on the fact that Sonia isn't here with me and she stubbornly refuses to come. I think that Thailand is too rugged for the little princess anyway.

It might SEEM like my life is boring, but I assure you it is not. As I read more of my Anatomy and Physiology book every day, it turns out that my life is really in high mortal peril every minute. It turns out that moving, my heart's continous beating, breathing, and other processes that keep me alive basically all boil down to a few measly Ca+ ions being in the right place in the right time!

Yes, I am learning how even the slightest movement requires a plethora of chemical reactions to happens, ions released and collected, and neurotransmitters being produced and reuptaken. Makes me want to lie on my bed and not move to introduce as little stress as possible and save any space Ca+ ions for the pumping of my heart and the contractions of my diaphragm.

But that's no good, according to the book, because if I don't move then my muscles will atrophy into little puddles. So instead I thought that maybe I should just move as little as possible-- like when I absolutely have to get up to eat, teach class, or make coffee. Which is convenient, because that's pretty much what I do anyway.

No good either. The book has informed me that unless I take in at least 30 minutes of exercise a day, my bones and muscles will decompose into little piles of dust by the time I am 35. Now I've heard all this before, but unlike the previous carriers of this message, I am not being offered a chance to join a gym or buy the latest slim-fast craze. No, my book simply offers in excruciating molecule-by-molecule detail how this decomposition will happen.

So, as a result, I have been jogging every day. Not an easy feat in tropical Thai weather, let me tell you. But I feel better about this workout program then ones in the past. For starters, I don't have to get up to do it, which was the doom of past attempts. I jog at dusk, when I am starting to burn out slightly and even running for 30 minutes seems more appealing then another chapter of physiology. Plus, that's the time that the mosquitoes come out, and I don't think that they are very good at hitting a moving target.

Dang!

My new favorite student 'o the week is Ms. Dang. Dang is pretty incredible. She came here and not only did she not speak a word of English, she was also illiterate in her own language, Thai. She couldn't read or write. (She could, however, say "chocolate". A woman after my own heart.) Talk to her in English and she'd just repeat what you said. Today, she can respond to most pleasantries such as "how are you" or "where's Emmett?" or "is this stuff spicy?" and even "I'm thirsty/hungry/angry/tired." She's worked her butt off and it shows.

Meanwhile, I have been really busy. I have been studying Thai and also working on my prereqs for nursing school. I got my 1100 page Anatomy and Physiology book in the mail (thanks, Sarah!) and I am also taking Chemistry and Psychology. A&P is nearly impossible! During a Thai lesson, Dang sat with us, fascinated, interjecting long strings of Thai. She could not understand that just because I could say "Hello, I am hungry" I couldn't understand long rapid 30-second monologues. To get rid of her, I finally opened my A&P book to the cut-outs of pregnant women and developing fetuses and shoved it at her. That shut her up for the rest of the lesson, flipping through the pages in wonder. She couldn't read the words, obviously, but she was quick to pick up that the drawn pictures of cut-away vaginas and GI tracts were part of her body. I was impressed. Now, whenever I am sitting at the table she'll come up and demand to see the "baby book".

Today she found the section on breathing and circulation and so I taught her how to use my stethoscope to listen to her own lungs and heart. After listening to her heart and mine she went running to her house to listen to the hearts and lungs of all the other girls. I taught her about her pulse and she ran around checking that too. Then I tried to explain to her through gestures about how the cirulation system works (not easy, you try it!) and she got the basic idea. I explained (or gestured, rather) that the heart sped up through lots of movement. She leapt up and started to jump and jog in place so that she could hear her heart go fast. Then she put the stethoscope around her neck and announced that she was a doctor. The pictures are her reading the A&P book and wearing the stethoscope.

Unfortunately, I don't really know what her story is. She only finished 3rd grade, and she speaks Thai, not Burmese. I don't know why she didn't to school-- she should have been able to go to the Thai school. Her family, like all families around here, isn't rich but do seem to have enough money to provide her with a cell phone and nice clothes. They should have been able to handle the school fees. When I asked the others what she was doing while not going to school they said that she was cleaning the house. Cinderella incarnate, I guess.

And the bug of the week is *ba ba bum* FROGS! Yes I know that they aren't bugs but they are everywhere. Little guys the size of a fingernail. Walking around campus I have to watch the ground constantly so that I won't step on them. I can't take a picture because they are too small to focus on. They are adorable and step up from last week, which was large hand-sized spiders.