Bingo Night

Thursday, September 25, 2008

From the depths of Valhalla they come. Champions and contenders alike. Warriors upon the field of battle come to face off against each other in this age old contest of skill and determination. Brother against brother, mother against daughter, nation against nation - worlds are torn apart here upon this hallowed ground. And we? We are but guests to them. Strangers in a strange world. We only hope to escape with our lives and our dignity intact tonight. This might just be too much to ask.

....."Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here".....

The door opens and out pours the thickness of the evening which we are about to enter. The smoke of cannon fire can not begin to compare with what we are about to succumb to yet the furry of cannon fire is in fact in close relation. A great battle now rages within these walls and we are but fresh meat, unwittingly being lead to the slaughter.

And with a single breath your senses are numbed to the point where the word 'reality' loses all meaning.

"LUCKY BEARS! I GOT LUCKY BEARS! WHO WANTS LUCKY BEARS? I GOT LUCKY BEARS! LUCKY BEARS!"

Five minutes ago this would have shocked and confused any normal and sane person. Five minutes ago we would have been normal and sane. Five minutes ago we would have had all five senses operating within normal parameters with synapses firing as they should. Five minutes ago I was able to breath.

"You kids look new. Why don't ya'll just follow me over here and I'll just set ya up with Rosie. She'll show you the ropes and'll have ya'll squared away, ok?"

Oh thank you Jesus! Now you're friend Rosie, does she speak English?

"Now, what you're gonna (I16) need are three Double Down 5s! These are gonna last you the whole night unless you wanna enter into (B7!) the Triple High Score Game which starts in 3 minutes. That gets you a two to one chance of winning and entering to play our Full Spread Match at a quarter till 8. Right now we (G35!) have a 6 pack game going on right now. .........."

Ok... so you don't speak English. Is their someone who does speak English that I might be able to talk to? No? Shit.

Well, um... in that case I guess I'll just take...um...one...of each? Yes? Do these come with written instructions on the back? In English?

At this point, or perhaps roughly thirty minutes ago before we attempted to "communicate" with Rosie, or even before that during those first bold steps across the threshold into this canopy of smoke and Marlboro produced smog did the thought cross into all of our minds...

"Who's brilliant idea was it for all of us to go to Bingo tonight?!"

Short answer, it was Claude's, my sister's boyfriend. Long answer, it was all of us. Our unwillingness to stand up in protest to what we all had thought in the back of our minds was a stupid idea had now brought us into a quagmire of a conflict in a far off and distant land which none of us had ever wanted to be in in the first place. Our original destination was to go downtown for a beer and this detour not only delayed our progress toward locating and drinking beer but transferred valuable resources away from our beer drinking efforts which might have been better used else where, say... drinking beer.

But no. We can't leave now. Stay the course.

Together with Claude and my sister, their was my other sister Erin and her husband Todd who were up visiting from Kentucky and of course my Dad and my step-mom Debbie. We were all having trouble with the elements of our new surroundings until who we believed to be our Peruvian guide, Rosie, told us about the non-smoking hall which was adjacent to the larger, more modern, more densely populated smoking hall. Trekking across forgotten goat herder paths which criscrossed the mountains that divided the two grand halls, Rosie guided us upon her mighty donkey, Pedro, until we reached the non-smoking hall.

A culture of it's own, the small community of non-smokers which we discovered revealed themselves to be both friendly and wonderfully hospitable. Upon entering the village, we were greeted as welcomed travelers from a far off and distant land. We introduced ourselves and told of how we came from the outside world. With great excitement they proceeded to examine our fine wears and good luck charms (We learned second hand that it is their costume to have on hand a symbolic charm of sorts for good luck during game play. This turned out to be false information as the village we encountered did not appear to follow this custom.) but quickly lost interest once the next game began. A local community elder (And let me be frank, they were all elders.) was kind enough to translate the instructions which were given to us by our Peruvian guide, Rosie, who by now had already begun the return journey back across the mountain path to the grand smoking hall.

We learned that the game of Bingo is a fast paced game of both skill and chance. Their are many different ways to win depending upon the game being played. It's not just as simple as getting so many in a row and you must always be careful about when you call out bingo. Only during select times following the calling of a number. Such rules and order of game play we're difficult to understand at first but soon made the game that much more challenging and fun.

I can remember as a small child hunting through old copies of National Geographic while attempting to find my dad's Playboy stash and seeing one copy fall upon the floor with it's paged turned open to an article about the traditions and practices of the Midwestern North American Bingo Enthusiast and the 'Daubers' the chose to use. I didn't choose to read the article or pay much attention to the large picture of the dauber in question as I was on quest for boobies at the time but upon entering that hall and seeing those multicolored instruments of marker identification in action, a sweeping feeling of "Oh!!!!!" quickly over took me. At that point I missed two numbers and lost the round. For the remainder of the night I learned never to allow myself to be overtaken by such childish daydreams. That's how games are lost. That's how you lose.

Never once did I see where the numbers were called or drawn from. Still a great mystery that perhaps the people of the non-smoking hall themselves do not know the answer to. Actually, I bet if any of us had asked they probably could have introduced us to the guy. I'm sure their on a first name basis. His name is probably Carl. Or Bob. Probably Bob.

As the night drew to a close and the dwindling number of games which remained began to present the cold dark truth of our reality that winning just isn't for everyone, we slowly came to realize as well that maybe coming to Bingo wasn't such a bad idea. They had food but their wasn't any time to eat it. I think they might have even had beer but that would have dulled the senses and in no way shape or form would any one of us have allowed alcohol to touch our lips or delude our minds. We were green horns going up against pros. We needed every advantage we could get. Luckily over 84% of the people in the room suffered from some form of arthritis or alzheimer's. One would think this would be like playing against gold fish with a soar tail but it wasn't. It wasn't like that at all.

Our night ended and although defeated, we left victorious. Happy in the thought that we had conquered both a long held primordial fear and superstition as well as walking away with the knowledge that we can all add Bingo to our ever growing list of activities to enjoy. And at the very least, we were all pleased that we were able to find our way out without having to employ the help of our Peruvian guide, Rosie. Bless you Rosie, where ever you might be.

FYI

Monday, September 22, 2008

So my Dad will be having heart surgery in the next few days. That's why I'm currently writing from the comfort and warmth of home here in the good ol' U.S. of A. I came back to visit with him for a few days prior to his surgery as well as to be with him a bit during his recovery. I should return home to Thailand in a few days. I normally wouldn't mention, what I consider a private family matter, on the internet but the posts I'm about to make about my experiences here will require the question to be answered as to why am I even back home in the first place. Well, now you know.

As for some of the obvious questions... Yes I have been experiencing a fair amount of reverse culture shock. Americans are big and loud and holy crap are their a lot of white people around here!!

I had a discussion with a German friend of mine just the other day prior to actually making back here to the States regarding American bread. Of course she would have a negative opinion of the bread produced in the lower 48 and I felt obligated to defend the bread which made the sandwich king. At this point, I honestly can't defend any American food without understanding the point of view of my German friend. I have literally been in heaven these past view days... Mexican, Breakfast (Biscuits and Gravy), Fast food (White Castle!!) etc... and my stomach has been suffering. I can feel cancer taking hold in various parts of my body and although this is not a good thing, I will not stop unless my stomach actually explodes within my own body. Should that happen, I'll just find a goat and use his stomach.

This is in fact possible. You learn such things in a Thai village.

Holy Communion

I'M RICK JAMES, .....

Thursday, September 11, 2008

So has I've mentioned previously, it's been raining a lot. That hasn't changed. And as the weather hasn't changed from it's current state of the second Great Flood (two of every animal have slowly been migrating out of my village for the past week) my mind has been wondering more and more, even in class.

To those who don't know of the comedy of Dave Chappelle, then you probably won't find this as funny as it actually is/was.

Yesterday I pulled out my Lil' John voice and began to respond to my students roughly 87% of the time with the words/phrases of "YEAH!", "OKAY!", and "WHAT!?". Needless to say, this both confused and amused my students and co-teacher. After giving them a small project to work on, I finally broke down and started giggling to myself. I finally had to explain what I was doing to my co-teacher which involved having to explain the musical stylings of Lil' John first. She finally understood and then started to laugh as well.

WHAT!?

OKAY!

I don't blog well

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

So... I don't really blog well. This isn't really a surprise to anyone at this point since I think my last post was in June or July and we're now in September. I don't know why I don't blog. Maybe it's because I don't really see that what is happening around me is suitable in terms of story telling. That and I'm long-winded. I know this and Lord knows my friends and family know this. That's why they're my friends and as for family...well, you're just stuck with me I guess.

A personal note to my mom. Aren't you proud of me?! 'They're' and 'you're'... I know... I'm proud of me too! (To everyone else... I believe the English language is stupid and that there is no need for 3 separate spellings of the same word. The same goes for 'your'. My mom has been trying to 're-educate' me for several years now with only minor success. I remain resistant. Call me foolish but I don't expect you to understand my own personal struggle against the English language. If necessary, I will rise up in arms against the English language itself and lead an army of immigrants with thick accents to forcibly remove the extra spellings of such words from dictionaries the world over. This will be our revolution! You're welcome to join us if you like.

As for Thailand... I'm not going to mention the current political situation right now. I'm feeling to light hearted at the moment to be brought back down to earth by the complexities of the internal political climate of a Southeast Asian nation. Not gonna do it! Instead I'm going to talk about rain. Deal with it.

Previous volunteers from the south had warned the volunteers of my group (Group 120) including myself of the extended rainy season which occurs in the south. The south typically sees eight (8!) months of rain per year starting sometime around May and going for roughly 8 months. (You do the math.) When I first arrived, it would rain for about a half hour every afternoon and by looking out my front door towards the mountains in the east around noon, you could tell if it would rain around 1pm or around 3pm. You are your own weatherman and just as accurate if not more.

Slowly, the half hour rain showers turned into hour and then two hour rain showers. I figured this was only the beginning of the rainy season. But then things just got weird or I guess things got weird. I really don't have a frame of reference since this is all new. I'll be checking in on this account next year to see if things are the same. Days would go by without rain followed by entire days of nothing but. Then more and more extended periods without rain. Is it possible for a jungle to be in a drought? I talked to one of my co-teachers about this joking that I thought this was the rainy season. (This was around late July and we hadn't had rain for a good three weeks and what rain we did get didn't last longer than 15 minutes.) My co-teacher laughed but didn't really give an answer but did mention something about a day in mid-May or June which helps predict the rainy season. If it rains on this day then it will be a normal rainy season. If not then it will be a shorter rainy season. Apparently the groundhog didn't (or did...I forget the whole groundhog thing) see his shadow and so we're due to have a shorter rainy season this year. The next day we had a huge rain storm which lasted for 3 days. Rainy season...

Now we're currently in the middle of another major storm system. It's been raining for roughly a week now with no sign of stopping. A volunteer from Group 118 told me that "You will get wet. Accept it." I didn't really believe her until this point because the rain hadn't really been that bad until this point. Now I wear shorts or something else casual to work and change my cloths once I arrive. I'm looking into investing in a larger rain parka as the one I currently have is not made for a Southeast Asian rainy season.

So yeah... Rain... I've begun singing that "Rain, rain, go away" song a lot but I've changed the lyrics at the end to make them my own and now I can't remember what the real lyrics are. I could google them but that wouldn't be very fun. If someone could post them then that would be great.

"My Rain Song" (I think I learned these lyrics in school but I can't be too sure...)
Rain, rain, go away
Come again another day
I went to bed
With a gun to my head
And I didn't up the next morning

I giggle a lot when I sing it because no one around me understands English. I can sing this here. You can't sing this where you are because people will look at you funny.

Fortunate Son Guitar Intro...

Thursday, August 14, 2008

I just realized something the other day. While reading "AK47: the Story of the People's Gun" by Michael Hodges (not that good and in desperate need of an editor who speaks English) I came to realize something. The Vietnam War was fought in the jungle. I know, right!

Don't get me wrong. I knew that the Vietnam War was fought in the Jungles of Southeast Asia long before picking up the book and even before Pvt. Gump went back for Lt. Dan. What caught me off guard was when I put the book down after reading an interesting passage and then staring off into space from the bus which was taking me Nakhon Si to Surat Thani. It then it me like a ton of bricks.

I live in the middle of the freakin' jungle! I then put on my iPod and began to listen to some CCR, proud of the knowledge that was just gleaned from this book.

Paranoid, I turned the music off after about 30 seconds and went back to reading.

I live in the middle of the jungle.

Being Thainapped...

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Being kidnapped is something you can't possibly hope to avoid in this land. The sun rises, breakfast is made, and then you're kidnapped. Not in any sort of mean spirited sense of the word. It's actually difficult to phrase such an action as a kidnapping as you are often a willing participant in this bizarre trek across half of Southeast Asia. But of course you can't say no to such a request because such an a front would appear as being mildly offensive. They are after all offering to take you to some distant place which you have never been before. A free meal might be involved. Perhaps some tea? Never dare ask where you are going! You were already told about this yesterday. But no memory of such an event can be brought forward and as such, you are left confused yet calm. Nothing can possibly go wrong? "Get in..."

Ban Triam School has lost a total of three teachers over the past few months and now they will soon lose more. A goodbye party was held at a wonderful little restaurant just outside of town for two more teachers who have by now already departed us. A full spread of traditional Thai dishes were offered including the staple, rice. My co-teacher and I arrived on time which translates to being roughly thirty minutes early to find our Pa-ah (principle) already sitting at the head of the table. A conductor surveying a mighty orchestra which had yet to show up for the grand show. Yet still proud he stands at his post, prepared to lead sweeping movements and first chairs who would inevitably be lost without him.

We sat down and began to talk about the Euro Cup tournament taking place on the other side of the world. Christino Ronaldo is the next big thing right now and so all of Thailand loves both Manchester United as well as the Portuguese national team. Sunshine fans in the Land of Smiles. It only makes sense considering the miles of beaches available for tanning. This is false hope though. Any true fan of the sport could clearly see that while Ronaldo is quiet possibly one of the finest players on the planet right now, the Portuguese national team is nothing without him. I knew this but did they? Did my Pa-ah?

Shortly there after the rest of the faulty from our school arrived including the two guests of honor. Two teachers would be leaving our school the very next day and while this was a time to celebrate, I had no idea which of the 13 or 14 teachers they were. I leaned over and asked my co-teacher Moosa to solve this riddle for me, QUIETLY!!!. Not being a subtle man, he surprised me by describing the two teachers in a very discrete manor by the way they were dressed. "Sea sit necks to you. Ok? You know hu? And sea weas black. The othe teacha." Ah yes. I knew them well. Well, I knew them well enough in the sense that I knew their faces and could point them out in a police line up if requested. "It was them officer! They shot Kennedy!" I didn't know their names though. One teacher could very easily win the village beauty contest so long as she kept her mouth shut. The second she flashed a smile at the judges though the whole ship was sunk. A quick glimpse would reveal a smile containing multiple rows of teeth. Like a shark. But her personality didn't match. She was shy and quiet nearly all of the time and a simple hello was the whole of our friendship. She was a mute shark.

The second teacher - the one sitting next to me - was a racist caricature of every Asian one could imagine from 1945 America. Propaganda posters of Emperor Tojo couldn't do her justice since if my memory services me right, Emperor Tojo was bald and this young woman had long black hair. I highly doubt they're related but I suppose the possibility does exist and if so, well - I guess that makes for an interesting story then. Someone should illustrate it. Or perhaps just paint her portrait.

As it turned out, my Pa-ah didn't know what I knew about the Portuguese National team. They were due to play the Germans that night and he was so confident about their impending victory as well as their fate as Euro Cup 2008 Champions that he placed 100 baht on the table. This got the attention of the faulty and I suppose that I should have said no but I couldn't turn down a sure thing. So I placed my last 100 baht bill down on the table and the bet was made. Germany won that night 3-2 and feeling guilty over my new found wealth, I gave the money to Moosa for gas.

Following dinner, speeches were made and honors were given. It's very difficult to appear to give a rats ass when a long winded speaker is slowly melting the polar ice caps by filling the surrounding area with oh so much hot air - but this is made even more difficult when one can not understand a single word that is being spoken. Frank Black lyrics were spinning in my mind as my Pa-ah's words literally would have made for the perfect white noise maker. He was turned up to eleven.

Eventually I was asked to give a speech after the rest of the faulty gave short speeches. I pride myself on my bullshit abilities but I wondered if such skills would transfer in a foreign land. Their are of course different topics and subjects which are traditionally touched upon and avoided during such speeches and it would be important for me to know the difference. Another challenge...I don't really speak Thai. So I stumbled through what little I knew speaking about the importance of family and how I thought the school was my family. I told the two teachers about how said I was that they were leaving and how I felt that part of my family was leaving. I told them how sad I was about this but how it gave me hope that if they could make such friends in this community that they could do anything and become very successful in their new communities. Chok-dee (Best wishes/Good luck). At no point did I address them individually or mention their names. It would have been rude, I thought to mention how sad I was that Mute Shark and Lady Tojo were leaving the school. Poor taste indeed.

The evening ended and I was released from my captivity. This release is only temporary as I expect to be kidnapped at any time and at any place in the near future. It is best to keep a over night bag packed and ready. The house should be prepared to be abandoned and all things should be in order for a quick evacuation. This is standard in Thailand. This is standard for those who know they are about to be kidnapped. No guns... just a friendly smile and a meal (more than likely). Laundry will have to wait for tomorrow...unless you're kidnapped again...and again...and again...and again.

Been Busy...

Monday, June 9, 2008

I can remember seeing images of forest fires being broadcast from California for as long as I can remember. The red glow filling the living room like some back ally in Amsterdam now reflecting off of my face nearly every evening. There must be a forest fire nearby. This seems unlikely as everything is too wet...to humid for a small brush fire to run like the devil across the open jungles of southern Thailand. But then again Florida is on fire, or at least it was the last time I heard anything about it. Maybe a hurricane fixed that problem. I suppose anything is possible. This is Thailand after all and anything really is possible. I doubt the far side of the mountain which looks after my village is on fire. Someone would have said something. Instead I am left with the mirroring image of the sunset bouncing its way off of the ocean, mountains, and clouds as it slowly fades away from me and only begins to rise for you. Somewhere in that moment the nights sky begins to fade away leaving everything red. It gives an odd color to the jungle around me.

I wonder if their is a slight moment between when the sun sets just beyond the reach of the ocean and when it begins to rise just above the tree line in the east on the other side of the world. Is it instant or is their a moment of darkness? Is the earth that big?

Not too long ago an e-mail floated around the Internet. Something about how we don't really read or pronounce words anymore but instead only see the first and last letters of a word and make an assumption of what we believe the word to be. I culod plobraby wtire sehntiomg hbrorile aobut yuor mtoehr and I can olny ausmse taht you can alaltcuy raed tihs buaesce of
sehntiomg I raed on the ineertnt. Thai children face this same problem in a slightly different way. Except the ability to pronounce such words eludes them.

Following the compulsory greeting given by the students which is return by myself... parrots speaking to each other... it can be fun to throw the occasion wrench in the works... roughly 28 or so 4th graders sit down and prepare to learn something from the pale skinned foreigner. At the very least he looks funny. This should be interesting for a least an hour. Time to warm up with some basics in pronunciation.

"Are you ready?" although asked rhetorically it is still given with a bit of casual enthusiasm.
"Yes!" a little loud. They could do better.
"Are you ready?!"
"YES!!!"

Repeat as needed in various forms including deep monster style voice and high pitched girlie-man voice. Make sure to include hand gestures and various postures as well.

Three letter nonsense words work best and by breaking them up into the individual letters, they can slowly begin to understand the pronunciation behind each letter and how such combinations of letters can form different pronunciations.


B - A - T
BA - T
BAT

Half the time the words don't even make sense and the other 2/3ths of the time the kids don't even know what the word actually means. That doesn't really mater. The definition doesn't really mater. A bat could be a small piece of fabric found only in Japanese shopping centers. Who cares. They just sounded the word out on their own which is what is really important. Figuring out how to work a dictionary... similar to operating a 1995 Dodge Neon... will have to wait until next week. Or next month. One step at a time. Tiny steps. Very tiny steps. Seriously, don't walk so fast.

Last week I was teaching students in six separate classrooms at two schools while my weekend was spent about two hours south of here in Khao Lak. This morning was greeted by a site evaluation while tomorrow will be another full day of teaching including English club before journeying to Bangkok for further training which will take place in Kon Kaen. Or maybe Kon Kean. Or is it Khon Kaen? Perhaps I'll just say I have a week ahead of me full of further Peace Corps training about 14 hours away from me by bus. A very long journey ahead which I'm not looking forward to although some more time away from site sounds wonderful at the moment. Although I will miss my students every moment I am away from them, I can't help but look forward to the chance to be with fellow volunteers again. We'll be making fart jokes.


P.S. This is a Tokay. Common in Thailand, they can average about 12 to 14 inches in length and primarily eat smaller geckos and larger insects. This guy, whose name is Mr. Tokay, casually lives in my house like an indoor/outdoor cat. He comes and goes as he wishes. We have an agreement. He doesn't hangout in my room and I don't kill him.