It's still possible for a motorbike to knock me off before I get home, but it would take a three story flight and busting through a couple hundred feet of densely packed airport space.
It was a good moment when the low angle escalator, on which my tuba scraped at both sides, dumped me out without me being prepared enough to push out past the loading ramp and people got to stack up behind my bumping and scrabbling. One of the good things about Thais is that it doesn't mean anying as they laugh at you.
I reread one of the books about living in Thailand. It's funny that sme of the things that burn me most are what he loves. Farang are expected to pay for everything--out with the guys, out with a girl and her family, out to the family compound and there's a wedding/funeral/anniversary/reception/birthday requiring a generous cash envelope (labeled)-- and double charged for normal services and labeled a bad person if you say, "here's what the last guy paid" because it is a mark of esteem and honor to be asked to pay. They are not fleecing you but paying deference to your superior status.
Thais have spent a few hundred years isolating themselves from muddy cross-culturalism, so no matter what, you will never be a part of the culture--your best hope is a degree of tolerated novelty. The good part is that you can get away with doing absolutely nothing and not lose face. Or you can bust ass and take a ride out with the next tub of dishwater. It doesn't matter what you do or not because ultimately you don't matter.
For hundreds of years, Thailand has had a phenomenal literacy rate so people could read and memorize monastic doctrines. Not so they could think about them. Learn the words, leave the thinking to the great ones. Otherwise you'll get a headache.
And this is a good thing?
It seems it's easy to get laid or drugged or held in high esteem, even if not accepted or regarded, and that's what makes it a great place to live.
It's good to be getting out, getting a check on things.
In the airport bathroom, there was soap in the dispenser and I found myself reaching for my travel kit to top up my soap bottle. And when there were paper towels--REAL PAPER TOWELS!--without thinking about it at all, I grabbed a large handful to stuff into my bag. There are places where people would think that odd.
Or there was the last quarter of the term. For EV3 I had the students copy the final test questions and answers in their notebooks. We spent two weeks reading through. For the last week, I had them take the final test and we reviewed the answers.
40 questions, 15 to pass, and I still had dozens of kids getting below 10. And As i was fluffing 10 s and 7s up to 14 or 15' I was thinking, 'too bad one of the Thai teachers will have to stay to retest next week. I'd give more accurate marks if they just caned the kids.'
How much is wrong with this picture?
Very, very good to be going home.
Sent from Candid the iPad
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