Thursday, March 30, 2006

Through Thai Eyes - I

One of the very enjoyable experiences of teaching here in Thailand is seeing your home country through their eyes. This year we sent about 50 of our English-major students to the USA for summer work. Remember, summer in Thailand is March-April-May, so right now these students are scattered all over the USA from Hawaii to Florida. I always wait in eager anticipation to get those first emails, and I share one with you (warts and all!) I just received this morning, along with my reply.

Pardon the student's vocabulary choice for "cigarette butts." We have more work to do with him when he gets home!

___________________________________________________________



Dear Teacher,

First of all, I'd like to apologize for not able to keep in touch with you as often as I've told you before, because there's no computer or even the telephone in our dormitory. The telephone box doesn't present in our site as well. Each time I need to use the computer, I have to go to our boss' office where many people are seriusly dealing with their works there. Therefore, I don't want to do like that so often. Although our boss will move us to the another better dorm where provides internet access, we don't want to move because we have to pay more money for the housing. Anyway, I will do try to keep in touch with you, my professional teacher.

Thank you for the GREAT GRADE you've given to me. It pulls up my GPAX a lot.

Here, in Virginia, is a good match for us. It's peaceful, nice environment, friendly and funny people and not crowded.

Before we came here, we had stayed in your HOME, at New Yorker Hotel, New York. We experienced many fascinating things there. The buildings are much more bigger than those ones we see in Bangkok or in our other big cities. We went to the Central Park where I have no idea that how they can put that natural park among this HUGE CITY without leaving it destroyed like the park in our home (Country). The squirrels are running all over the yard in the park without being scared of people. Moreover, we can breathe freshly in the park (or even in the city) despite we are surrounded by a large number of crowded people and cars !!! Fascinating !!!

And evenmore, I saw a young boy and girl kissing in the park ignoring the people (including me) who kept walking pass them! And the most attractive is that ... the light of the city which is very colorfull at night, especially prominantly at Time Square. We love it.

But what I consider it makes New York unpleasent is the CIGARETTE! I saw almost people (or even all) ,from the young to the old, smoking a lot. There are many cigarette asses (or cigarette filters?) in everywhere -- on the streets, in the trash cans, and almost in the DRIANS !!! It seems like the people consider smoking is as normal as drinking the pop !!!

I think European and American are on the top list of those who smoke the most. So, I wonder how do you survive from this matter, because I've never seen you smoking and appreciated it's the good of you, my kind teacher.

All in all, I LOVE AMERICA. It doesn't make me disappointed. THE POWERFUL AND MIGHTY COUNTRY.

I almost get used to with the food, the foreign accent and the weather now. And I enjoy working so much.

>>> Once in a life I experience America, it is worth my whole life... <<<>

Yours sincerely,
C

P.S. Sorry for the lenghtly mail, it's affected by the reasons
according to the very first beginning of this mail.
__________________________________________________

Dear C,

Wow, what a great email--how interesting to see the USA through your eyes!

New York City is made up of a huge population of recent immigrants (mostly from Europe and the Mediterranean countries), so you'll see many similarities to Europe there--including the smoking (yuck). This city is soooo different from the West Coast where I live--but my impressions of New York City are about the same as yours! I do love the liveliness of the city, also.

Despite the difficulty of finding a computer, thanks for the effort to send an email. By the way, public libraries often have free email service on their computers, although you have to get a library card (free) to use one.

As to your grade, please don't thank me. YOU did all the hard work, and you earned it. There were 2 C'2, 7 C+'s, 1 B, 10 B+'s, and only 5 A's given in the class. So, consider yourself part of the privileged, elite, top 20% of the class!

Hope to hear more from you later!
Your Teacher in Thailand

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

It's Getting Chili in Thailand


...and we're not talking about the weather
(100+ Fahrenheit right now).

I am referring, my-about-to-be-dazzled readers, to a recent extraordinary accomplishment from a brown-thumbed gardner who has trouble growing even weeds. When I first moved to Thailand, I bought a big bag of dried chili peppers to use in my quest to learn how to cook Thai dishes. When I later learned that Thai cooking in Isan is basically any stir-fry with 50% chili peppers, I abandoned the no-challenge project. However, three years later, I pulled out this bag of chilis from the fridge vegetable bin, and inquired of my friends what to do with them. "Throw 'em in your weed-patch, and watch what happens," was their sage advice. OK, I do grow a few weeds. My weed-patch looks more like a partially balding old man with tufts of hair sprouting haphazzardly here and there.

So, I threw the dried-up, deader-'n-a-door-nail chilis out into the balding weed patch and forgot about them. In a couple months, lo and behold, I had a half-dozen chili bush babies! Amazing how becoming a father changes your perspective and you start accepting responsibility. I got serious and started watering them every day.

A month or so later, I had teenagers in the family. Hungry teenagers. This momentous event now called for fertilizer to feed my hungry charges. I asked my Thai teacher the name of a good fertilizer I could pick up at the town garden shop, and how I should ask for it. With an impatient wave of the hand, he dismissed my idea immediately. He wasn't quite sure what the best word was, but he spelled out the only one he knew in very large letters on a scrap of paper and held it up an inch from my nose: "S-H-#-T."

"Uh, you mean the kind that comes from cows?" I naively inquired, screwing up my nose.

"Yes Ajarn (Teacher) J., Do you know something better?" His tone of voice was that of a pre-school teacher lecturing her toddler. Oh, cow manure to feed my chili bushes. I remember something vaguely about that in a history book. Didn't the American Indians give the early colonists cow dung for their corn? No, that was dead fish. I was catching on to this farming-in-the-country thing quite quickly.

"Of course!" I laughed a little too loudly, "I just remember hearing something about bat manure being the best possible fertilizer, right?" Incomprehensible stare from teacher. Yes, I'm learning how to save face in Asia.

Fortunately, cows and manure are everywhere in Isan (the latter usually on the bottom of your shoes). Mission easily accomplished.




A month following, so help me, a handful (batch? gaggle?) of adult chili bushes waved in the breeze in my little makeshift haphazzard garden. I couldn't believe it--from three year old dried chilis scattered about the garden--I had a sustainable crop which commands about $1 a pound on the local market. (I'm rich! I'm rich).




The real thrill came when the peppers started appearing just a couple weeks ago...first green, then yellow, orange, and finally bright red.








Today, was the crowning glory of my agricultural career. I picked two of the most beautiful, glossy, red chili peppers I've ever seen from the top of one of my tenderly cared-for chili bushes.

[Actual photgraph of actual first two chilis from actual garden grown by actual farang appears at the top of this blog. Stamp that photo: "EVIDENCE".]

Relishing the moment, and remembering that when chilis are red, they're fairly mild, I popped a whole chili into my mouth and chomped down. Arghhh! Cough! Choke! Gag! Oh yeah, it's the COOKED red chilis that are fairly mild, I remembered too late. Seven glasses of water later, I felt I had at least gotten my money's worth (and the equivalent of a burn-tattoo on the roof of my mouth).


Perhaps your local newspaper might feature in the near future about a teacher-turned-chili-business magnate who has taken over the market of Thailand's national vegetable, the venerated chili. Remember you heard it here, first.

By the way, my first bio-engineering job after above accomplishment? Tone down that fire. Gasp.

__________________________________________________

P.S. Pardon my over-simplification of Thai-Isan cooking. There really are some wonderful unique dishes that take some artful cooking and and involve a list of delicious ingredients. Something I have no patience for on the chef's end of things.

Monday, March 06, 2006

And You Think YOU'VE Got it Bad?

When you're sitting in stalled traffic on I-5 or I-405, just cheer yourself up by knowing it could be worse. Last December 4, 2005, Bangkok had the worst "normal"* traffic jam on record. Traffic was blocked on an "expressway" between the city and the airport. The time motorists sat in their cars without moving? Eight hours.

People ran out of gas while stalled. Other's abandoned their cars and started walking. Of course that only served to worsen the situation. Many tickets and tow trucks later, things got cleared around midnight.

A couple years ago, it took me three hours to go the eight miles from the city to the airport by bus, barely catching my flight five minutes before they shut the airplane door. Yes, I could have walked (maybe jogged) it faster.

It is common when visiting Bangkok to have your taxi driver turn off his motor in a traffic jam--often the traffic won't move for 20-30 minutes at a traffic light. That's at EVERY intersection! Of course, the taxi's meter keeps running! So, it's not unusual for me to pay my fare up to that point, get out and walk. Usually you can flag down a motorcyclist and offer him 20 baht to take you between the stalled rows of cars (praying no one decides to open their car door...). So, count your blessings!

Also, another reason I enjoy living in the "Appalachia" of Thailand--Isan--far, far from the madness!

*"normal" excludes traffic jams due to natural disasters such as hurricanes (Houston 2005), fleeing attacking Martians (New Jersey, Halloween of 1938), etc.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Your Know You're a Thai Redneck When....

(below) From America: redneck jacuzzi
Most Americans are familiar with Jeff Foxworthy's redneck jokes. They poke good-natured fun at country people in the USA. Example: "You know you're a redneck if that billboard that says "Say 'no' to crack" reminds you to pull up your jeans." Rural people seem to enjoy them the most, because they can laugh at themselves.

Well, redneck jokes have now hit the Thailand expat community. Some guys blend in so well with the upcountry rural culture (especially guys who marry Thai wives from rural areas) that other expats are making fun of them. To quote one of my internet friends, "This is all for fun and should not be taken seriously. I love Thailand and the Thai people. This is just another way to express my love for their culture. " So here goes....

You know you're a Thai redneck if...


...If your idea of vehicle air bag safety is having your lady sit on the front of your motorbike.

....if your food tastes better when you eat on the floor sitting on newspapers

...if you consider owning a buffalo as a good investment

...if you don't use toilet paper [JD's note: that's only for fancy Bangkok people]

...if the one and ONLY bottle of medicine you have at home cures every single illness known to man.

...if your whole family sits on the floor eating your meal--when visiting a KFC or MacDonald's in Bangkok.

...if you use two 1-baht coins as tweezers.

...if you can't sleep because that chicken in the next room just won't shut up.

...if you carefully avoid the dog sleeping in the middle of the street but prefer hit-and-run for humans.

...if your idea of lawn ornaments are the empty plastic bags blown off the highway.

...if you haven't done the dishes in hot water for the last five years.

...if you can eat any dish consisting of 50% hot chili peppers without heart failure.

...if your idea of a traffic jam is two motorbikes waiting for the buffalo to finish his business in the middle of the dirt road.

...if your only morning alarm clock is the regular 4:30am mosquito attack.

...if you prefer the "Burning Garbage" aroma as your choice of spray can air freshener.

...if the back end and the front end of your pickup truck are held together by scrap wood.

...if your idea of "dining out" is moving from the inside floor to a grass mat outside the front door.

...if you use para* as cologne.

*(para: very popular condiment made from fermented fish and condensed into a paste. Quite a stimulant to the olfactory senses!)

At the least these should give you a tongue-in-cheek flavor for upcountry life!
______________________________________

[Acknowledgement: adapted from Thaivisa.com forum]


And in closing, from America again...

(To my Thai friends: Some people who live out in the country in the USA live in small metal homes on wheels. When they are this small, we call it a "travel trailer." Its purpose is for travel, but some people live in them as a permanent home.)

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

How to Wai Your "Hi" in Thai

One of the first things you learn in this culture is the physical act of greeting called the wai. Actually, in addition to greeting, the wai has many, many other uses: expressing appreciation, leave-taking, showing honor, serious apologies, etc. Looks simple, huh? Easy as waving "hi," huh?

Think again!

The hands. It's more than just flat hands held against each other. The wai is supposed to represent a lotus bud, which also figures prominently in Thai culture. Therefore, the hands are ever so slightly cupped to give that "bud" appearance. The kids in the picture above are still in training, so don't mimic them. You need a more rounded look to your hands position. The guy below has it right.


The vertical position of hands. Depending on the status of the person to whom you are wai-ing, you demonstrate the appropriate honor by the height of your wai. This is a bit tricky. You also have to take into account your own status. So many factors come into play here: age, position, relationship, economic status, social status, etc. You have to roll it all into one and then demonstrate your wai to match the situation.

The lowest wai is with the tips of the fingers at about mid-chest level. The highest wai, given to the King, are hands and arms way above the head with head and neck bent backward at a very awkward angle. Then, there's a half-dozen positions in between these extremes: tips of fingers at chin, at mouth, at bottom of nose, at top of nose, mid-forehead, etc.

The position of the head. While doing the wai there are variations from keeping your head unbent, to a deep Japanese-style bow. Which do you use? The more head-movement downward, the greater honor being given. It's all part of that status thing. As if that wasn't enough, then there's....

The timing. It's important who does the wai first. I've been admonished more than once on this point. My first month in Thailand, I had heard how important the wai was, so I was going to be sure NOT to forget it! My secret was to show it to everyone, all the time--and to show my enthusiasm for their culture by jumping the gun and doing it first. I went around, doing the wai to up-line status, down-line status, trees, dogs and cats. I thought everyone's giggle was from their delight. No, it was because I looked ridiculous. I was totally unaware of the "timing" angle. Now, I know to let down-line status individuals wai to me first. However, I need to be quick-thinking to initiate the wai to up-line status persons, lest I offend them.

Get it right, and you earn the approval and pleasure of the person you seek to honor. Get it wrong, and you risk embarrassing, or at worst, insulting the other person. Fortunately, we foreigners are granted, what I call "farang's license" to mess up. Just the effort is appreciated. However, if you've been in Thailand for some years, it's expected that you'll stop being a dunce and start getting it right!

OK, start practicing, class! The quiz is on Friday. Flunk the quiz? Lose your visa. Pass the quiz? Earn a Thai's undying appreciation for taking the time to learn his or her culture!

Ronald MacDonald
gets into the wai.
Anything to sell those Big Macs.


And not to be left out,
The Michelin Tire Man
show's his cultural
sensitivity as well.








The world's most polite
crocodiles reside in Thailand.
(At the gates of my local village's
temple)
c

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Atten-n-n-n-n-SHUN!!

For a blog or diary writer, the danger of living in a new culture too long is that things become commonplace. Every so often, I have to startle myself into remembering what it was like the first time I saw or experienced something new in Thailand, in order to capture the uniqueness of it all.

The campus police force is one of those now-commonplace, but once-startling experiences. They're a sharp looking bunch: most of them former military guys in their early 30's, physically fit, short haircuts, ram-rod straight posture, and the over all bearing of a soldier. Their dark-blue uniforms, modest insignias, and shin-high military boots complete a pretty convincing picture. I would guess most of them are getting more experience for the next step in their career, the national police force, which is quite a coveted and powerful position in Thai society.

Imagine the first time I was rushing to class along a breezeway and came face to face with one of these military types. He stopped dead in his tracks, drew up to his full height, loudly clicked the heels of his spit-shined boots together, and gave a smart salute, edge of open hand to forehead, and elbow held high. I also stopped dead in my tracks--not to acknowledge him, but to look behind me to see if the Prime Minister of Thailand was in tow. No one there. I turned back to him, and judging by the eye-to-eye contact, it dawned--slowly dawned--upon me that this gesture was intended for yours truly.

Now, mind you, no one has ever saluted me in my life--except for an insulting salute by a smart-alec junior high kid in an American school who was mocking my authority. The difference: while the middle-school brat had a sneer on his face, Mr. Campus Policeman had one of those "Yes Sir!" expressions I've only seen in World War II movies. I wasn't sure whether to lead the charge or search in my book bag for another medal to pin to his uniform. Not sure how to lead a charge, nor having any medals, I opted for a Thai wai (folded hands in front of my chin and slight bow), and continued on my way--just a bit flustered.

Big mistake.

Someone who saw the brief interchange upbraided me at a later time. "Ajarn (Professor) JD, did I see you giving a wai to the campus policeman this morning?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Didn't you notice his embarrassment?"

"No, I just wai'd and quickly walked on. Why was he embarrassed? Was I supposed to salute back?"

"Not really. As a university teacher in our culture, you really shouldn't acknowledge or show deference to a campus police officer. You should just continue on, as if he wasn't there."

Oh really? The first time in my life I felt like The Commander in Chief of Something, and I'm just supposed to pretend it didn't happen? Bummer. Such is the vertical society of Thailand. In the horizontal society of the USA we take delight in "all are created equal." In Thailand, we're supposed to take delight in "We all know our place in the hierarchy of society."

Years later, I suddenly realize I get that formal military-style, heel-clicking salute several times a week. However, now it's almost a non-event. It's as normal as tying my shoes every morning. I really don't feel "more important." It hasn't gone to my head.* It's just another normal manifestation of a society that values a carefully defined social ladder.

I said almost a non-event. OK, I cheat just a little. I'm still a farang (foreigner) and I still can't help returning just a little twinkle in my eye and a slight smile.

At best, I think he knows it's still a bit novel for the foreign teacher to get such treatment.
At worse, the other possibility is that he still wants a reaction out of me like that on the first day--not the wai, but that searching look over my shoulder for Mr. Prime Minister.
At worst, I might be the private joke among the Campus Police.
__________________________________________________________

*The next time I return home to the USA for a visit, I would prefer all of you at the airport to line up in a reasonably straight line, stand at attention, and execute a respectful salute as I exit customs with my bags. No sneers. Thank you. [Update, 2011: Apparently my instructions were ignored last visit.]