Catching Up

So, we’ve been struggling a little lately. Of course it was expected. I have to remind myself that we—okay, I—wanted this, I wanted challenges. This pretty much sums it up:

"Culture shock" doesn't seem like the proper term here, because it's not like we're going "OMG, they do it like that here?" But maybe there is some truth to it. Case in point: I ordered some stuff from Amazon. We got a notice in our mailbox that said "Thailand Post" so we knew it was from the post office, but didn't understand anything else. By the time we figured out what to do with it, and had taken the slip to four different post offices, they had sent the package back. I was too disheartened to even bother re-ordering. Not at those shipping prices.

And about that picture... it is mildly disturbing that the deepest dip is around the 5-month mark. We've been here for two. Please know that although I am struggling, I am not regretting anything. I would still do this all over again. And in three weeks, we'll spend a week on a gorgeous beachy island.

I’ll bullet-point my stream of consciousness again, since writing a fully polished piece is way too daunting right now. Ignore any times mentioned (yesterday/today or whatever), because I started this on a Thursday and am adding to it now on Saturday morning.

I’ve had a cold for three weeks. Standard early school year stuff. I carry around coughing rags like an 18^th century TB patient. They double as sweat rags, although the weather has been slowly cooling off. Yep, that means I'm wiping my sweaty face with my coughing rag. I'm nasty. In fact, I just picked a little bug out of my coffee and kept drinking. What.

We still have that car. As we try to sell it and see the reactions we’re getting, my rage grows towards the woman who sold it to us. I’m wasting energy hating her (and wishing karma would do something horrible to her) but I can’t believe someone would be so deceitful. And of course, I feel stupid for trusting her and buying a car sight unseen, but I trusted her because she’s American, she hired us, and kept saying how much we were “just like them” a year ago—excited, packing, waiting to start new lives in Thailand. She overcharged us for a car that barely works, and when I questioned her on the price, she actually gave me a guilt trip about it. Said that the used car market was very different in Thailand, this is normal. There's a part of me that's glad that she moved away before we got here, because I would have to sharpen my confrontation skills, and ugh. Now when we ask the price we paid, we basically get laughter. Oh, I can feel blood in my ears again. Must change the subject. Must be Buddhist and not want to inflict pain. Must let it go, just like the thousand-plus dollars we will lose on this car (and could really, really use right now as we are getting nickeled and dimed from several directions). People are like "well, this is Asia," which I think is kind of a racist thing to say no matter how true it is or who is saying it. 

The house is still good. I am having a hard time finding some domestic help. Of course there are plenty of people (okay, women) who do it, it’s just a matter of finding them since most of them don’t speak English and don't have transportation.

Work is fine. I really, really enjoy my students. Of course there are a few knuckleheads, but most of the time it’s just youth and not bad character. They’re incredibly sweet kids who are receptive to just about anything I give them, especially the girls. The tough part-- and I'm going to go ahead and say that this is the toughest part of this entire move-- is the requirements we have for submitting lesson plans. It’s not impossible, and I’m gradually finding my groove, but it is a LOT of work. Lots of detail. I haven’t done this much work dissecting lesson plans since college. What is the overarching theme? How will I introduce the lesson? What questions will I ask the students? What will the students do? How will I assess whether they have learned something in that lesson? How will I conclude? What standards and which of the school philosophies are covered? For each lesson. Yesterday I estimated that I have 600 of these lesson plans to write, assuming I only do the upcoming lessons and I don't backtrack to write up the ones I've already taught. Six hundred. After I finished laughing, I sank into a mild panic and started to lose sleep. Our colleague's husband said yesterday, "We moved to Thailand to relax, and she's working harder than she ever has." I concur.

I’ve been so busy at work and so tired from this cold that I have briefly forgotten about Thailand. I was having a little whine to a colleague yesterday, and she was so calm and reassuring that it was infectious. She said she loves it here (she’s American but just moved here from Japan) and I needed to let this stuff go and enjoy this beautiful country. It was a small slap awake, one that I needed. So after school I took my bike out and rode around town. I explored side streets, parked, poked around market stalls, focusing on really seeing these places. The little shops. The stooped old ladies. The monks. The dogs. The motorbikes. All of the signs in Thai. I said before that I live in a National Geographic issue; I need to remind myself that it’s not just beautiful high-def pictures now. It’s right in front of me. I am HERE. I am here. It’s something I’ve been forgetting a lot lately, between work, bickering kids, coughing, housework, and bills. 

I bought myself some flowers (~3 dozen fuchsia roses for $3—you read that right), and olives and feta from a tiny deli. It was a lovely afternoon. I need to take my bike out as much as possible. It is therapy, and I can still do it with this cold (cough/sweat rag close at hand, of course). This morning Sascha and I rode to school and it was lovely. Warm and breezy. It was about a ten minute ride at a leisurely pace, and we got to see lots of paths cut into the jungle, cows grazing, food stands opening for the morning, dogs stretching out on sidewalks. We talked the whole time. It was such a lovely, calm way to start the day. I love that bike.

After I wrote that paragraph above, I went to bed and dreamed that I was riding my bike with a flat rear tire. I kept trying to ride, and it was pulling me back and making it difficult.