Things are back to normal. That is, normal for Thailand. The boys at the orphanage are round the twist, I’m teaching English to adults and the mangoes on the tree are just about ripe. Yep, everything normal.
My time at the orphanage has been slightly cut this week, Monday we had off when we discovered they wanted us to take the kids to a church for the day. Imagine 20 over-exciting boys with severe behavioural difficulties on a potent cocktail of drugs, and you’ve just imagined every teacher’s nightmare. What we also found was that the orphanage was due for inspection, and they hadn’t told them about Boy’s death. Essentially, they wanted us to keep the kids quiet. So, we politely refused and we politely took the day off. I visited Jira Nun’s shop, intended to buy an item that will not be named (s/he reads the blog) and ended up staying for an hour, talking with staff and enjoying free hot chocolate. If anyone can walk in there without staying for 4x as long as they wanted to, they’re officially a ninja.
I took inspiration from my mum’s career as a teacher and suggested we paint sunflowers onto paper plates. This went down a storm and amused them for a whole day, which was handy since it was raining outside again. AGAIN. Down to a polar 21oC. We left the orphans covered in paint and having stick fights, it what they really want to do anyway. The rest of the week was spent teaching maths, something I can at least do. “B” in GCSE maths, read it and weep suckers. If I couldn’t do simple maths, my career plan as a psychologist might be severely stunted. We also took Wednesday off, Pookie had a school open day with Jonas, and spending 3 hours shouting “no, a circle. A circle, like this. Sit down, no, in a circle. Please, sit down, no circle. C-I-R-C-L-E. Ciiiiirclllle, please just sit down. NO, A CIRCLE. Haven’t you ever played Halo?” doesn’t sound like a productive day. We pretty much depend on Pookie for everything.
Friday was movie day, and this time there was a sensible choice. “Seven Years In Tibet” was slightly more sensible. It was bloody long, and Brad Pitt’s “Austrian” accent began to grate like a particularly rusty cheese slicer. We had the opposite problem to last week, the older kids were enthralled whilst the younger ones began falling asleep in the aisle, in clear breach of health and safety rules. Still, the film annoyed me when the British were presented as worse than the Nazis. The Nazis are portrayed as simply sending a man up a mountain for national glory, whilst the British incarcerate him in a prison camp and are portrayed as brutal and imperialistic. WRONG. That was at least 40 years earlier.
We’re planning to make water bottle holders next week, so the weekend will be spent finding the best method. Mine will be something like a fajita wrap. Pookie suggested an intricate weaving fishing-net style, which would take us at least a day, and the orphans at least a week. Form/function – if it looks pretty, who really cares?
Teaching adults has actually been surprisingly fun. Whilst the first day we had roughly eight people, in various stages from being able to hold conversation to not even knowing the alphabet. Then the rains came down, and we went to one very awkward looking girl. That was a fun way to spend two hours, I’m pretty sure it constitutes bullying. After if dried up, the cook came back and I was at least able to spend a couple of hours talking about food. Now we have at least three people, and are working out some sort of regime. The woman who owns the shop we teach in has invited me for a meal this weekend, and her boyfriend wants to show me some more of the area. The Thais are really too nice. They also have a pretty decent library, which I’ve plundered. I had my first taste of Terry Pratchett, “Going Postal”. I’m very impressed, and intend to pick up some more of his, impressive to say the least, back catalogue. Probably with an exoskeleton and back support. Very Tom Holtish and Yahtzee Croshawesque, or they are quite Pratchettey. He’s been knocking around for a while.
In news that’ll make my mum scream, I had my first taste of mango harvesting. It involved me putting a rickety step ladder onto very soft and wet mud, climbing up two metres, and poking a tree with a stick until mangoes fell out.
 |
| Another day at the grind... |
 |
| There's actually a knack to it |
I then had the bright idea to get a picture of me as I jumped off, and learnt too things. 1) mud is not appropriate for basing a ladder and 2) mid-air pictures are awesome. Though, this one of me is when I actually fell off.
 |
| Arse bollocks fuckmunch the ground is further than I realised |
 |
| Also snapped this suitably epic shot of Matthias |
Afternoon well spent. It’s odd that just walking outside, picking a mango off the tree and tucking into it is now considered normal, but plucking tamarinds and munching on those is still a little odd. Maybe in a Freudian way.
Next week I’ll be in Laos renewing my Visa, I leave Thursday morning, hand in my application and return Sunday evening after having a couple of days to myself. The embassy closes at 12pm (?!?) so I’ll be quite tight for time the first day, but Emily had nothing but praise for Vientienne and I want to see the sights for myself. Though, the Laos Kip is stupidly weak. 1 Thai Baht is roughly 300 Kip, and the Baht is pretty weak. My currency converter doesn’t even have the Laos currency. But 1 Euro is 12,500 Kip. Ahh, it’s like being back in India. I don’t like weak currency, I find it confusing to pay 8,000 of something for a bus ride. JUST DIVIDE IT BY 100 AND MAYBE I’LL UNDERSTAND. Still, walking around with 500,000 of something in your wallet in crisp notes in undeniably gangster. That’s with an “er”, not an “a”.
Also, Laos is also “Socialist Party”, so are there any ideas for war poetry I can read or obscure gods I can worship? The Babylonians had some doozeys. Let’s take bets on how many armed guards can escort me out of the country.
And finally - the most epic bike, ever
 |
| That's a Laos flag, US flag and I think scottish. And a Heineken in the drinks holder |
 |
| Those are painted fake bullet casings. It's a little juxtaposed with the fact it's right outside my laundry machine |
No comments:
Post a Comment