holes

Well it has been a while... and too much has happened of the 'vague and unimportant' variety to remark on. So I will just embellish on the present. I am just a week away from moving into a Really Big House. I am hoping it will have inner dimensions out of proportion to its outer dimensions. This will mark the first time I've ever lived in a house of this size in my life. Minor details: bran spankin' new (therefore can not be haunted). Two levels. 4 bedrooms. Two full bathrooms. Two balconies: one on either end of the second floor parallel to eachother. The house is shaped like a really long rectangle and is entirely of concrete construction. Tiles and white paint throughout. Oh what you can get for less than three hundred Canadian in Thailand.
We have been picking out classroom furniture all week because as it stands, we will be opening a language school with an office on part of the main floor. We have been marketing the program to our friends and neighbours and already have about 15 students booked. It looks like I may be in Thailand for a little while longer than I expected...
Other than that, all I can think of saying is that this blog is turning into exactly what I didn't want it to: an orderly, boring, weekly update of 'my life in Thailand'. It basically sucks. I might either leave it this way for good, and continue on in this way, allowing it to digress into a lonely, mundane meta-reflection of myself, and go on setting up a new one that is more appropriate for the kind of material that I am dying to fill it with. Or I could just try a little harder to find that balance of art and real life, then mix in some honesty with the facts that are sandwiched between feelings and skewered together with my spine. Any suggestions?

tired

hypothalamus cobblestone stilts vasquez allergy bombproof disruption awe-

for briar patch, cargo bays around, and of tenor, are what made Canada great! Petra, although somewhat soothed over by recliners and a wolly maestro. Sometimes about demons, other times about meat, but pork chops from the dust bunnies always conquer particle accelerators for!
hayfield stalwart triangulate caleb carthage in the independant pants of gastrointestinal me.

Just had to get the juices a' bubblin'

I am tired because I had an remarkably busy day. On days like this I can easily forget I am in Thailand...

whiskey soda

undersized denim jacket not by d&g, pinstriped golf shirt not by paul smith, knit bracelet not by some hippy downtown calgary, watch not by diesel.
glazed eyes by famous grouse
cheers!

Stories by Students

It's always a laugh to read homework done by my younger students. Today I thought I'd put a couple of assignments on here for you to observe these talented little speakers of a foreign language at work. Rather than scanning them, I've typed them word-for-word below, exactly how they appear on paper. Spelling mistakes and all. This assignment involved teams of 5 students (12-13 years old) writing ghost stories. Each student was to write only one line and then pass it on to the next student in their team. They had only 25 minutes to do this. Also, the objective was to be able to write the whole thing in past simple tense. Keep in mind that Thais can be very superstitious. Their form of Buddhism is, compared to other Asian countries, highly animist. The idea of ghosts (ie. fear of, memory of, etc...) seems to be entrenched in their subconscious and culture. To get an idea of how real this is take a look at Thai Cinema So writing about the topic caused a lot of excitement among these children in my class. They even drew pictures to go along with the stories.


Ghost Story
A long time ago in the village of Thailand.
had ghost very much in the southwest of Thailand.
In the village very far of comfortable castle of the ghost
behide the village. The castle was opened in the midnight. This time
the ghost get of the castle come to the village for ate blood people.
When the children go out the house midnight. When the ghost
meet the children. It was to ate blood but sometime the
ghost didn't came to village therefore It's go to the
forest for meet the somepeople.

(My note on back of paper: Dear students of team 9. Your story was absolute shit. Don't even bother trying to learn Inglish if y'er gonna' fuck up something simple like 'ate blood of people' instead of 'to drink people's blood'. I don't ever wanna' see this crap on my desk again. And your illustrations? You call that art? What are you, retarded? My cat could draw a friggin' ghost better than that. Sorry, y'all get an F)

joking, of course I never said any of that

Ghost Story
A long, long time ago in Thailand. There were many ghosts.
Taihong ghost, Pob ghost and Krasue ghost. They died, but
they didn't go to heaven or hell. The people were afraid them.
The came out at night. Example Pob ghost ate many chickens.
It very afraid. Sometimes Pob ghost ate people. Taihong ghost
died died and died many times and they reborned many
times too. The people afraid them. Some body met ghosts. And you?
You built afraid by yourself. Don't afraid it.

and one more, not so Thai...

Ghost Story Dreamweaver
A long time ago in the Egypt. there were mummies in the
pyramid. They wanted blood for ate. I was afraid them but I went
to Egypt for met them and a lot of gold. And when I met them I was
scared. I want some weapons to protect my self but I had only a pistol
and a knife. So it was not enought. I must run away them. I ran, ran, ran
and then I met a dracular. And it ate my blood. !!! Ahhhhhhhhhh !!!
"Get up now, Tommy" my mother shout.
Everything that I see it's only dream.
I WASN'T DIE.

I wish I could speak, let alone read and write Thai the way these kids can with English at their age. Anyway, it was funny. If anything more comes my way I'll be sure to put it up here.

Yollew

I haven't entered anything here in over a week so it's probably about that time.
I am going for my quarterly visa run on Saturday. This time I won't be going to Malaysia because I no longer live near that border. I am heading to Myanmar instead. I am looking forward to a change of scene for the visa run. A new country. New, cheerful border patrol guards. A whole new set of passport stamps. Perhaps they'll use green ink? Perhaps they'll hand out free balloons? One can only hope.
There are two methods of transportation involved in this journey. Boat and bus. I leave at 7:00 in the morning from Tesco Lotus in Phuket and am supposed to be back in Phuket at 5:30 pm. Call me a cynic, but I don't believe they will be capable of bringing me back by 5:30. I know how Thais 'chai wae la'... use time.
I'm feeling a little bored and uninspired so I'm going to call it a night. Hopefully I'll have something more interesting to write
after my visa run...
also
one can email me at thoughtpusher@gmail.com. I will be converting soon, and completely retiring my paid-for hotmail account.
If you don't have one yet, I have a few gmail invites left.

ytirailima fo htaerb wolley eht rednU

Not only did I intend to leave out all vowels today, but I wanted to write everything *esrever ni dna sdrawkcab*... then I realized that it would take much too long.
Here sits I in the Inglish Department at Phuket Wittayalai waiting for my next class. It's day two of my new contract here and as it turns out, I'm doing the exact same thing I did for the last two terms: teaching M4 students. No job at a resort. Mai mee tum ngan yoo tee allamanda. Mai dai... Pom bpen kru yoo tee Phuket Wittayalai. Oh well. It's not bad, just not the change (in salary and environment) that I was hoping for. So it goes...
And as LDMA commented on this site, 'stick to what I do best: attracting M4 katoeys ;) Life is oddly weird and full of remarkable weirdness.
'MY UNCLE USED TO LOVE ME BUT SHE DIED My uncle used to love but she died A chicken ain't chicken 'til he's licken good and fried, keep on the sunny side, MY UNCLE USED TO LOVE ME BUT SHE DIED'... there: a little Roger Miller weirdness.

On a tangent: This morning at about 5:45 I was standing on our porch when two brightly robed Buddhist monks turned down our street.
I told Ann they were coming and she quickly disappeared into the kitchen. I quickly hid behind the door, an automatic response to any religious people coming near your house. When she returned she had some of our rice from the night before, and some fruit. She bowed to the monks (see: wai), and gave them the food. Next, they stood there and chanted in front of our house. It was really interesting. They were saying 'thanks for the food, dude', and generally just blessing our house and boosting our merit.
End of tangent.

I know it's hard to see...
but that actually is a wai'ing Ronald McDonald.

So aside from weirdness and monks life has re-adjusted itself to work mode and I've molted my holiday frame of mind. The only thing I must do next is find a house for us that is closer to work. I have a 30 minute+ commute and I don't like it. We currently live in Thalang, Cherngthalay, on the west coast of the island. I want to find a new place in the town of Phuket to a) avoid the commute and b) have easier access to everything. I know I'll miss living a stone's throw from the beach, but so be it. If all goes well, I'll find a cheap but new home with two bedrooms so when you come to visit you won't have to stay in an expensive hotel...

Under the almost yellow prison blanket

There is no job for me at the Allamanda... so it goes.
Today was nonsense. I rode around the island completely without thought as to where I would end up. I ended up back at home. So it goes. The funny thing about riding around the island today was that I hadn't bothered to go home first and change out of my 'job interview clothes'. So there I was, cruising up and down hills, through hamlets in the middle of nowhere, wearing a tie and khaki's. I'm at the internet cafe now, and you'd think I had the sense to go home and change. Nope. Not yet. Here sits I in tie and pants. Why would someone in their right mind care to spend the day driving around a beautiful tropical island dressed like they have something important to do when, in fact, they have nothing to do? I dare not ask.
Well, I guess I'm stuck with the job at Phuket Wittayalai. The one that is a mirror image of the one I just left in Songkhla. So it goes.

I got arrested today.

The policeman was very young and smiley and he motioned for me to pull over. I knew what it was about. An hour later I was walking out of the station less two hundred baht. It must have been my lucky day for usually they fine you three hundred when you're not wearing your motorcycle helmet. So it goes.
I guess that doesn't constitute 'getting arrested', but that's the story as I'll tell it to my grandchildren one day.
So it goes...
(thank you Kurt Vonnegut... I just love that line.)


They say Dada is dead? Please be patient, the beautician is already awake.

a little something from Mr. Peret

SPILLED BLOOD
The ashes which are the cigar's malady
imitate the concierges rushing down the stairs
after their broom that fell from the fifth floor
killed the gasman
that employee resembling a bug in a salad
The bird lies in wait for a bug and it's the broom that got you gasman
Your wife's hair will be white as sugar
and her ears will be unpaid bills
unpaid because you are dead
But why didn't this gasman have feet shaped like a three
why didn't he have the lucid look of a glovestore
why didn't he have his mother's dried-up breast hanging from his belly
why didn't he have flies in the pockets of his jacket
He would have passed away damp and cold like a smashed porcelain vase
and his hands would have caressed the bars of his prison
But the sun in his pocket had put on its cap

--Benjamin Peret
translated by Keith Hollaman