50% GOOD
50% BAD
Which half will Grandma receive? Find out next week, with hopefully no shoe throwing incidents to report.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Grandma Arrives - Free Muthathar al Zaidi!
50% BAD
Which half will Grandma receive? Find out next week, with hopefully no shoe throwing incidents to report.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
The Moon, Jupiter and Venus
The other night I came out of the house and looked at the sky and the moon was smiling at me with two eyes above it. I quickly shot it on camera to make sure I wasn't having an adverse effect from Dtock's cooking and then considered it was probably a sign from the gods that they are laughing at Thailand and their political fiascoes.
The next day at work it was hot gossip, the locals had gone on to say that it was a deeply significant sign and that Thailand was possibly slipping into the gulf. Some had even consulted books (a first for everything) and were coming out with pretty gloomy stuff.
Well they needn't worry because I've worked it all out, the sign was for me and all my fellow Clarets. Looking back now, I can't believe I didn't see it coming. The planet on the left prophesised a 6th minute goal at Turf Moor from Kevin McDonald, symmetrically the planet on the right (be it Jupiter or Venus who cares) indicated a second half 57th minute pearler with the outside of his boot from the same player. The moon smiling was indicative of me, Turf Moor and Clarets all over the world being sent into raptures at 4 in the next morning (Thai time) as Burnley marched on past the mighty Arsenal and took their place in the semi finals of the League Cup.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Channel Seven Thai TV for showing something useful for a change without any interruption as clear as crystal. We even got the on pitch half time draw live over here.
So there you go Russell Grant and co. you can take your thinking caps off and relax. We're the famous Burnley F.C. and we're going to Wemberlee, Wemberleee, Wemberlee.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thailand's Political Upheaval (in a nutshell for my homies in the UK)
The current upheaval can be traced back since colonialists overlooked Siam, in favour of a buffer zone between British India and Burma and French Indochina. The disaster waiting to happen has been a long time coming, it survived the American Indochina cold war satelite wars and post cold war American capitalist aggression because of the West's artificial adoption of it in exchange for logistical and political support as its main ally in South East Asia. It’s therefore no coincidence that as the new World power order shifts East the one country left in the cold will be this one. The recent problems are symptomatic of a wider paradigm shift.
On the ground Thais are intellectually and politically immature making them vunerable to blatant rhetorical polital and economic exploitation. Born of their warped indoctrination of nationalist ‘virtue’ they become worryingly over enthusuastic to discard their well branded, purported national love ‘land of smile’ image for an incongruous quest for their self idealed nation, which can never work as no individual sees the same way. Class divisions are huge here, my Nana Booth’s one vivid re-collection was of a country polarised and she came here in the early 80s, history hasn’t been favourable to levelling out these discrepancies.
The most disappointing element to all this is that it all stems from a deep aminosity between two main media and political moguls who used to be close friends and business partners; Thaksin Shinawatra (who I'm sure you've all heard of) and Sondhi Limthongkul (one of the main protest organisers), people on the ground are so dumb they're willing to put their lives on the line for these super rich personalities. Neither side seems to have a set and coherent plan for what it wants apart from the other side out (or dead) and the PAD which stands for Peoples Alliance for Democracy ironically want an end to the current form of democracy in exchange for a Parliamentary appointed seats process which wouldn't really be democratic.
It’s like England dividing between Roundheads and Cavaliers but with more money, ego, yellow, red, fun and total lack of responsibilty involved. And a virile media waiting to pounce. In reality Thailand is far behind the rest of the world we live in and has been lucky not to have experienced hardship suffered akin to neighbouring Cambodia, Burma, Vietnam or Laos in recent decades, a few more false steps and turns of irreversible misfortune may just see Siam slip into the gulf.
On the ground Thais are intellectually and politically immature making them vunerable to blatant rhetorical polital and economic exploitation. Born of their warped indoctrination of nationalist ‘virtue’ they become worryingly over enthusuastic to discard their well branded, purported national love ‘land of smile’ image for an incongruous quest for their self idealed nation, which can never work as no individual sees the same way. Class divisions are huge here, my Nana Booth’s one vivid re-collection was of a country polarised and she came here in the early 80s, history hasn’t been favourable to levelling out these discrepancies.
The most disappointing element to all this is that it all stems from a deep aminosity between two main media and political moguls who used to be close friends and business partners; Thaksin Shinawatra (who I'm sure you've all heard of) and Sondhi Limthongkul (one of the main protest organisers), people on the ground are so dumb they're willing to put their lives on the line for these super rich personalities. Neither side seems to have a set and coherent plan for what it wants apart from the other side out (or dead) and the PAD which stands for Peoples Alliance for Democracy ironically want an end to the current form of democracy in exchange for a Parliamentary appointed seats process which wouldn't really be democratic.
It’s like England dividing between Roundheads and Cavaliers but with more money, ego, yellow, red, fun and total lack of responsibilty involved. And a virile media waiting to pounce. In reality Thailand is far behind the rest of the world we live in and has been lucky not to have experienced hardship suffered akin to neighbouring Cambodia, Burma, Vietnam or Laos in recent decades, a few more false steps and turns of irreversible misfortune may just see Siam slip into the gulf.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
That Luang, Vientiane, Laos
As soon as we get on line, I'll type something, until then just look at this.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I've seen the future (and it looks like this)
This was taken whilst we were listening to this quality progressive house mix www.megaupload.com/?d=XI0ZQY8V and Bamboo started rocking away, for some reason he buzzes off heavy in yer face hard rocking house, a chip off the old block perhaps but the similarities are heartening, eary and scary.
Perhaps we will take him to the Full Moon Party in Ko Phan Ngan for his first birthday, then he can tell all his mates at school he was there before them.
You know how your parents used to say stuff like 'turn that shit down!' We should all buy T-Shirts when we go clubbing that read, 'our kids will be listening to this shit' and on the back 'turn it down'
Blog On
Our House (in the middle of a canal) # 1
This was the view from our front garden yesterday... 'I've seen this happen in other peoples' lives and now it's happening in mine' Morrisey.
Take it East
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Handbags
I saw this daubed on a bridge near the canal on a Soi off Sukhumvit (Bangkok's main road), the sign resonated with me for obvious reasons and then within about 30 seconds I spotted this lady walking down the road, so I shot her handbag and decided to ask my friend Dave to put the two shots into one frame for me.
I think one of the most poignant truths for anybody living in Asia is the huge disparity between poverty and wealth and the negative effect this has in cultural and social terms. Not just on the poor but the rich too.
In a city like Bangkok these issues are bipolar, but there only ever seems to be one winner in the propaganda war between the needy and need nots.
Devotion to money manifest, appears to create a convenient cycle of myopia, the force of consumerism creates useless needs for the need nots, whilst the really needy watch the trend cycle by.
I believe the tide will turn one day and that's why I bring these shots to your attention.
I think one of the most poignant truths for anybody living in Asia is the huge disparity between poverty and wealth and the negative effect this has in cultural and social terms. Not just on the poor but the rich too.
In a city like Bangkok these issues are bipolar, but there only ever seems to be one winner in the propaganda war between the needy and need nots.
Devotion to money manifest, appears to create a convenient cycle of myopia, the force of consumerism creates useless needs for the need nots, whilst the really needy watch the trend cycle by.
I believe the tide will turn one day and that's why I bring these shots to your attention.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Insomnia (Barking Dogs Mix) Faithless
Just when things started looking up, dogs howled and yapped all night long , that's why I'm in work at 6.30am writing this. Taking after my Dad for his love of barking dogs, call it nature or nurture either or, from 2am onwards I've had no sleep. At 5am the neighbours were berated and frankly put, if any of their dogs get within bamboo swinging pole reach of me I'm going to beat the living crap out of it or them.
Rhetorically, who in their right mind lets their dogs run round the moo bahn (estate) upsetting all the other dogs, all night long? Who never complains about problems because it's not in their "mai pen rai" quasi-nevermind culture? Why are problems never solved? Why does the white man come across as the crazy one?
Thankfully, I attained my compulsory 20 hours of Thai culture and language knowledge certificate the weekend prior, otherwise I may have gotten myself kicked out venting my spleen on this subject, like the drunk who stood up and said something like "when are the Thai people going to realise they are part of the international community, why is it always Thai this Thai that?" He was roundly booed but by then, he'd already upset the audience by screaming for the microphone and abusing the nice pretty well spoken lady orating the course.
In one way after a night of barking dogs no matter how far I've come to consolidate myself back with the "culture" since leaving Bangkok and a near two year fall out, it's like Tin Tin Out... always something there to remind me.
Take it East (Leave it West in a nod to Danny)
Rhetorically, who in their right mind lets their dogs run round the moo bahn (estate) upsetting all the other dogs, all night long? Who never complains about problems because it's not in their "mai pen rai" quasi-nevermind culture? Why are problems never solved? Why does the white man come across as the crazy one?
Thankfully, I attained my compulsory 20 hours of Thai culture and language knowledge certificate the weekend prior, otherwise I may have gotten myself kicked out venting my spleen on this subject, like the drunk who stood up and said something like "when are the Thai people going to realise they are part of the international community, why is it always Thai this Thai that?" He was roundly booed but by then, he'd already upset the audience by screaming for the microphone and abusing the nice pretty well spoken lady orating the course.
In one way after a night of barking dogs no matter how far I've come to consolidate myself back with the "culture" since leaving Bangkok and a near two year fall out, it's like Tin Tin Out... always something there to remind me.
Take it East (Leave it West in a nod to Danny)
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
New Age Colonialists of the World (hand it over)
For one reason and another I previously omitted to mention where we moved to, Khon Kaen. We live a little out of town quite close to the lake which takes a cute photograph at sunset. I first came here on my way back from Laos five years ago and distinctively recall the ultra friendliness of the locals and laid back atmosphere of the place. Situated at the heart of Isaan, most people converse in Lao dialect and drive like complete buffoons, the town is quite small and easy to get around but for the foresaid imbeciles.
I’ll try not to get too hung up on the locals’ lack of driving awareness but it really is bad. Being a small town we decided to take a little personal responsibility for Bamboo’s, Bamboo’s childrens’ (and so an and so forth) future world. Rather than buy an all air polluting, petrol consuming motorbike for our travels we invested in a pair of bicycles. Dtocky has a blue city (vicars’) bike and I have a red BMX. We are thanked for our selflessness at limiting our carbon footprint on Mother Earth by nincompoops driving motorised vehicles who regularly without warning make all manners of hazards; of us, themselves and the road in general. Of all the benefits of living in the countryside away from a big city like Bangkok I would say yokel style drivers have to be the largest drawback. My commute to and from school is never without hazard.
After nearly three years in Bangkok (on and off) making the transition back to the countryside is quite strange. After the equivalent of days as I’d had years there, retreating in the vicinity of some of the world’s most beautiful beaches my father commented ‘I miss Bangkok.’ At the time, I balked but if one has lived and survived in Bangkok for a considerable amount of time becoming acquainted with its city map, myriad methods of transportation, culture, language and lifestyle, one can leave Bangkok but Bangkok will never leave those (especially their alveoli). We have both commented how we especially miss lazy afternoons in Lumphini Park, perhaps the urban contrast of arcane hypertensive traffic flow in transition with the park’s quiet beauty (when the propaganda radios are switched off) makes its serenity all the more worthy of an occasional nostalgic look back at that distant metropolis we once suffered.
There’s definitely no going back, we live in a house in a cul de sac, there’s a dog opposite called Bonbon that barks at outsiders, on Sundays its owner family shoot hoops at an invisible basketball board whilst the sane half hang the washing out. Babies are everywhere and often we think it’s Bamboo crying when it’s not. Everything is within pedaling distance so we’re getting fitter and eating healthier.
More time spent off the sky train spent pedaling means more free time with the family, books and music channeled through a Sony Playstation 2 and portable television. On Sunday evening, enjoying Paul Simon’s Graceland and a book I realised I was turning into my Dad, I looked at the cover and was thankful it wasn’t Dick Francis.
I’ve never plugged a book specifically but then again I haven’t read a book as good as this in a long time: Freedom Next Time by John Pilger is one of the best exposes about ‘new age colonialism’ (a phrase I stole from Robert Mugabe quoted on Al Jazeera) that I’ve ever read, covering five chapters with some fantastic interviews (memorably Nelson Mandela who squirmed at the point of his official recognition of the Burmese incumbent junta, they supported the ANC you see), Pilger reveals the facts behind the British government’s theft of the Chagos islands including Diego Garcia (now a US military base from which Iraq is attacked and Iran will be) and the plight of its indigenous peoples whose existence was denied, it investigates the legacies of the British Empire’s lost colonies covering the Israel Palestine conflict, India, South Africa and Afghanistan. Paying attention to the stories ignored by the mainstream he interviews the voiceless and brings their stores to the reader, he then goes on to the policymakers and puts these struggles in perspective, to quote the writer "This book is about empire, its facades and the enduring struggle of people for their freedom. It offers an antidote to authorised versions of contemporary history that censor by omission and impose double standards."
It really is worth a read. I’ll cycle on home pull some jumps over sleeping police men, try not to get hit by veering motorists driving on the pavement and cheer on ASEAN for their long overdue and eventual marked criticism of the Burmese junta over the illegal imprisonment of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi. Take note current Thai administration.
Blog On
I’ll try not to get too hung up on the locals’ lack of driving awareness but it really is bad. Being a small town we decided to take a little personal responsibility for Bamboo’s, Bamboo’s childrens’ (and so an and so forth) future world. Rather than buy an all air polluting, petrol consuming motorbike for our travels we invested in a pair of bicycles. Dtocky has a blue city (vicars’) bike and I have a red BMX. We are thanked for our selflessness at limiting our carbon footprint on Mother Earth by nincompoops driving motorised vehicles who regularly without warning make all manners of hazards; of us, themselves and the road in general. Of all the benefits of living in the countryside away from a big city like Bangkok I would say yokel style drivers have to be the largest drawback. My commute to and from school is never without hazard.
After nearly three years in Bangkok (on and off) making the transition back to the countryside is quite strange. After the equivalent of days as I’d had years there, retreating in the vicinity of some of the world’s most beautiful beaches my father commented ‘I miss Bangkok.’ At the time, I balked but if one has lived and survived in Bangkok for a considerable amount of time becoming acquainted with its city map, myriad methods of transportation, culture, language and lifestyle, one can leave Bangkok but Bangkok will never leave those (especially their alveoli). We have both commented how we especially miss lazy afternoons in Lumphini Park, perhaps the urban contrast of arcane hypertensive traffic flow in transition with the park’s quiet beauty (when the propaganda radios are switched off) makes its serenity all the more worthy of an occasional nostalgic look back at that distant metropolis we once suffered.
There’s definitely no going back, we live in a house in a cul de sac, there’s a dog opposite called Bonbon that barks at outsiders, on Sundays its owner family shoot hoops at an invisible basketball board whilst the sane half hang the washing out. Babies are everywhere and often we think it’s Bamboo crying when it’s not. Everything is within pedaling distance so we’re getting fitter and eating healthier.
More time spent off the sky train spent pedaling means more free time with the family, books and music channeled through a Sony Playstation 2 and portable television. On Sunday evening, enjoying Paul Simon’s Graceland and a book I realised I was turning into my Dad, I looked at the cover and was thankful it wasn’t Dick Francis.
I’ve never plugged a book specifically but then again I haven’t read a book as good as this in a long time: Freedom Next Time by John Pilger is one of the best exposes about ‘new age colonialism’ (a phrase I stole from Robert Mugabe quoted on Al Jazeera) that I’ve ever read, covering five chapters with some fantastic interviews (memorably Nelson Mandela who squirmed at the point of his official recognition of the Burmese incumbent junta, they supported the ANC you see), Pilger reveals the facts behind the British government’s theft of the Chagos islands including Diego Garcia (now a US military base from which Iraq is attacked and Iran will be) and the plight of its indigenous peoples whose existence was denied, it investigates the legacies of the British Empire’s lost colonies covering the Israel Palestine conflict, India, South Africa and Afghanistan. Paying attention to the stories ignored by the mainstream he interviews the voiceless and brings their stores to the reader, he then goes on to the policymakers and puts these struggles in perspective, to quote the writer "This book is about empire, its facades and the enduring struggle of people for their freedom. It offers an antidote to authorised versions of contemporary history that censor by omission and impose double standards."
It really is worth a read. I’ll cycle on home pull some jumps over sleeping police men, try not to get hit by veering motorists driving on the pavement and cheer on ASEAN for their long overdue and eventual marked criticism of the Burmese junta over the illegal imprisonment of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi. Take note current Thai administration.
Blog On
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Peggies
I was sitting in our bed reading Noam Chomsky's Manufacturing Consent (highly recommendable) the other night whilst Dtocky was outside nattering to the neighbours, she knocked on the window and I shouted "I can't come out I'm naked!" So she asked "Which is closer to here Nong Khai or Ubon Ratchatani?" "Nong Khai" (of course).
This is the geographical and linguistic equivalent of three Lancastrians asking a Pole whether Bolton or Wigan are closer to Preston, but seeing as that the most topical topic of conversation in the staffroom is that there is now a Polish edition of The Sun that might not be a too distant vision.
On a side note one of Bamboo's front teeth has come through, not as nature intended however, he dangled precariously from a plastic style storage unit piled top heavy with unbroken glasses (for drinking out of). He lost balance, fell backwards (in slow motion) the glasses exploded everywhere and one of them slightly dinted his gum which seems to have provoked the emergence of the said tooth.
Take it East
This is the geographical and linguistic equivalent of three Lancastrians asking a Pole whether Bolton or Wigan are closer to Preston, but seeing as that the most topical topic of conversation in the staffroom is that there is now a Polish edition of The Sun that might not be a too distant vision.
On a side note one of Bamboo's front teeth has come through, not as nature intended however, he dangled precariously from a plastic style storage unit piled top heavy with unbroken glasses (for drinking out of). He lost balance, fell backwards (in slow motion) the glasses exploded everywhere and one of them slightly dinted his gum which seems to have provoked the emergence of the said tooth.
Take it East
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Eye Catcher
There's something about this picture that catches the eye more and more. It was taken at Songkran as the festivities started for the Laos New Year behind Dtock's parents' home. There are much more from the same day on my flickr site that (in my opinion) convey happiness and ease of human friendship without barrier or division, for no other reason, that was what was being celebrated that day. The ties around Bamboo's wrist are all symbolic of wishes of good luck for the coming year from family and friends. Bamboo has plenty of friends in Laos as he does in England, the only difference is that here they make him more of a star than they would anywhere else. My parents will concur.
The man is one of the many friendly neighbours living by Dtock's family home in Vientiane. He comes to get his hair straightened Malcolm X conk style by Dtock's sister Dtick. Can you imagine the emotion in this picture if it were one of my Mum's random neighbours on Ward Street in Hindley? It just wouldn't work.
It's obfuscating to fully comprehend what it means to have Dtock and Dylan Bamboo. This last week they have been away in Laos organising their passports, I've missed them, much more than I did when we lived in Bangkok (or so it feels now) and it seems to me that the older he gets the more I miss them. Apprehension grants the true and actual realisation of how much your parents must miss you when you decide to live on the opposite side of the world. I wonder if as you get older you become less needy as a parent, as a child does vice versa.
The fact that they are on their way back from Laos at all is nothing short of a miracle, apart from Bamboo's life threatening back flip off the bed the other week, how has Dtock managed to get Bamboo a passport from a country where it is illegal for natives to have sexual intercourse with foreigners (how did he manage not to land on his head?)? Albeit a draconian law and one there for the breaking, the fact that they have given him a passport contradicts the need to obtain governmental permission (and give them loads of dollars) to officially start a family. Asian bureaucracy is so senseless.
I was riding Dtock's bicycle after dark, looking at the surroundings thinking that here is so much more like Laos, it may as well be Laos but for a border imposed by the French and British. The way they talk, live, eat, shop, everything is laid back, easy, soft... apart from work that is, but that's another story that is just brewing and brewing and much the difference because the operation is riddled with Westerners who are so much different in every way... Anyway more of that subject will come later.
This is the first time I've blogged off the cuff for a long time, I hope it makes sense, I'm off to greet my family at the bus station on a very small LA Bicycle (made for a small one, but can fit two and a small growing child).
As an afternote, our neighbour's baby girl (a little older than Bamboo) is called Blueberry, so it's not just us who choose really cool names for our children, I can see it on a Ford Capri windscreen now, Bamboo & Blueberry 4EVA...
Take it East
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Dad Tips, Egg Cups
Check out this cracking transformation!
If you have a baby and you can't find an egg cup why not take out the bit of your baby's bottle that holds the teat and main container together, turn it upside down put it on a plate and eureka, you have an egg cup that works better than an actual egg cup because all the yolk has a convenient hole to run out of the bottom. Also if this deters you from buying an egg cup then you've saved money!
I don't know where I get it from, I really don't.
Blog On
If you have a baby and you can't find an egg cup why not take out the bit of your baby's bottle that holds the teat and main container together, turn it upside down put it on a plate and eureka, you have an egg cup that works better than an actual egg cup because all the yolk has a convenient hole to run out of the bottom. Also if this deters you from buying an egg cup then you've saved money!
I don't know where I get it from, I really don't.
Blog On
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Mummy is Crazy (Bamboo)
Mum swinging off rickety rope swings in Vang Vien. And me thinking Peter Kay style, you won't get me on that.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
Burst into Heaven Kissing the Cotton Clouds Buckets of Rice and Fields of Rice I Can't Stop Coming Down
Fifty nine days without a smidgeon, but that's all been for good reason, we've been gallivanting with our families on idyllic tropical beaches, dodging cyclones and earthquake tremors, tubing down rivers - singing, swinging off rope swings into rivers (well I've not but more of that later), getting more friends, contemplating India from beautiful sultry stormy Ko Lanta and relocating and generally building up plenty of material for you lucky readers.
Words, thoughts and situations encapsulate two great lyrics: The Smiths and then The Chilis; Stop me stop me oh stop me stop me if you think you've heard this one before and... Catholic School, Catholic School girls rule, yes read that again. And that's where I've wound up... again! Me, Paul Booth, in a Catholic Girls' School (how could they?) Ok the last one wasn't Catholic but it's as much of a Shakespearean muchness. No lesbians feeding the pony yet, but surely that could have only ever happened in Udon.
Bamboo is nearly walking and there is much, much more to follow.
Goodbye City Bus Fumes (Hello Country Bicycle Rides)
Blog On!
This morning there was strangely no brick dust in the air we breathed and the background noise was unusually silent. We could hear the monks chanting through distant loud speakers and in our back garden there's a mango tree full of ripe mangoes, eat as many as you like for nowt.
I was going to start this blog with a pun on confessions, you know the sort: forgive me readers it's been so many eons since my last blog and all that. But it's such a blogging cliche and as I've winded up working for the confessors (the same ones who educated me), I wouldn't want to be accused of such crassness. To be fair, this is the first time I've really sat at a computer properly (if you could entertain such a notion as sitting at computers properly).Words, thoughts and situations encapsulate two great lyrics: The Smiths and then The Chilis; Stop me stop me oh stop me stop me if you think you've heard this one before and... Catholic School, Catholic School girls rule, yes read that again. And that's where I've wound up... again! Me, Paul Booth, in a Catholic Girls' School (how could they?) Ok the last one wasn't Catholic but it's as much of a Shakespearean muchness. No lesbians feeding the pony yet, but surely that could have only ever happened in Udon.
Bamboo is nearly walking and there is much, much more to follow.
Goodbye City Bus Fumes (Hello Country Bicycle Rides)
Blog On!
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
The Doors of Perception (and loose panes)
If you read Richard Dawkins's The Selfish Gene, you'll know that he uses one of those diagrams in the introduction that can be looked at in two ways (it's called a Necker cube apparently and it looks like this...
So far so good? I mean you can all see that this can be perceived in two ways, yes? If you stare at it for long enough then it should jump about.
Now then, let's get to the point, I was being given directions to somewhere by a Thai person and as I'm getting a bit handier at the language I wrote down the name in Thai to confirm the pronunciation. Two characters look very similar, they are kor kwai (k) and dor dek (d). I apologised for my ignorance and admitted I tend to get the two confused, to which my helper responded, a good way to remember is for kor kwai the loop comes out and for dor dek the loop goes in!!!
I give you kor kwai and dor dek...
Is anyone one of those loops popping out anymore than the other? They're not even three dimensional looking ffs! Which one looks more like a buffalo's backside? I mean someone send me some of them 3d glasses or better still a dab of LSD and I might just be able to work this shit out.
The kids were being dead loud at school today, so I slammed a door to shock them into quietude (I didn't have my banjo on me), unfortunately I didn't realise there was a pane of loose glass in the door. Not the cleverest of moves in a room of 50 people under seven years of old. When I apologised I was told not to worry it wasn't my fault, it's nice to see this warped logic working in my favour for a change.
Myself, Dtocky and Bamboo have been apart for nearly a month now, it feels like forever, in three more days we'll all be re-united in Laos (dodging the KGB multicultural lover police section).
Until then...
Take it East
So far so good? I mean you can all see that this can be perceived in two ways, yes? If you stare at it for long enough then it should jump about.
Now then, let's get to the point, I was being given directions to somewhere by a Thai person and as I'm getting a bit handier at the language I wrote down the name in Thai to confirm the pronunciation. Two characters look very similar, they are kor kwai (k) and dor dek (d). I apologised for my ignorance and admitted I tend to get the two confused, to which my helper responded, a good way to remember is for kor kwai the loop comes out and for dor dek the loop goes in!!!
I give you kor kwai and dor dek...
Is anyone one of those loops popping out anymore than the other? They're not even three dimensional looking ffs! Which one looks more like a buffalo's backside? I mean someone send me some of them 3d glasses or better still a dab of LSD and I might just be able to work this shit out.The kids were being dead loud at school today, so I slammed a door to shock them into quietude (I didn't have my banjo on me), unfortunately I didn't realise there was a pane of loose glass in the door. Not the cleverest of moves in a room of 50 people under seven years of old. When I apologised I was told not to worry it wasn't my fault, it's nice to see this warped logic working in my favour for a change.
Myself, Dtocky and Bamboo have been apart for nearly a month now, it feels like forever, in three more days we'll all be re-united in Laos (dodging the KGB multicultural lover police section).
Until then...
Take it East
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Indian Rope
One of the many benefits of working legally in Thailand apart from the fact that it massively impinges on your freedom of choice of employer is that when you leave the country for any period of time you have to purchase a re-entry visa so that your existing visa isn't invalidated (what nonsense, I suppose Thais leaving the country invalidate their citizenship by the same logic). This of course costs 1000 baht and takes a small era to obtain from the immigration office on Sathorn. Did I write benefits? Sorry I meant something else beginning with 'b' and ending with 's'.
All credit to those down at immigration, they've designed not only a million and one ridiculous ways to extort money from Johnny Foreigner, they've designed a a queueing system with numbered tickets and counters and digital signs to help make that feeling of being screwed over that much more comfortable and organised.
When you enter the office you queue up for your relevant form (re-entry, lost passport, god bothering missionary visa etc.). Then you go and fill it in, glue your picture to it and go back and queue up for the number I mentioned earlier.
You do all of this, unless, you are a fat Indian cow in a bright pink sari made of enough material to unravel all the way to Kolkata, and a tilak the size of the same city's circumference stuck on your forehead. In that case the system doesn't apply to you and you may negate it by sheer obstinate will.
I mean queue pushing and then quoting Thai maxims such as 'jai yen yen' and 'mai pen rai' is one thing (and she did), but then trying to push in front when you have a ticket that reads 172 and the number at the board is still at 165 is in another dimension, especially when it's at the climax of a two hour wait. It takes some front trying to break the empirical laws of the numerical system.
On pointing out her basic faux pas, she had the cheek to ask 'why you cause problem?' On responding it's not your turn and you're screwing up the system causing everyone who's waiting their turn to wait longer,' she shouted '171 go home,' I replied 'yes but 166, 167, 168, 169 are all still waiting' she shouted 'why you fighting?' At this point, I considered for the first time ever, why Winston Churchill declared in response to requests to send food to India at the height of the Bengal famine of the early 1940s: 'I hate Indians. They are a beastly people with a beastly religion.' (I'm not even a fan of Churchill's apart from his Mary Astor comment, but you get my point)
I think my Grandad Booth had a similar problem with queueing and Indians and he affirmed at the time 'in England we queue'. I could of course be mistaken on this point but if I'm not, I definitely derived his queueing gene and hope it will be passed on to Bamboo.
Take it Easter than India
All credit to those down at immigration, they've designed not only a million and one ridiculous ways to extort money from Johnny Foreigner, they've designed a a queueing system with numbered tickets and counters and digital signs to help make that feeling of being screwed over that much more comfortable and organised.
When you enter the office you queue up for your relevant form (re-entry, lost passport, god bothering missionary visa etc.). Then you go and fill it in, glue your picture to it and go back and queue up for the number I mentioned earlier.
You do all of this, unless, you are a fat Indian cow in a bright pink sari made of enough material to unravel all the way to Kolkata, and a tilak the size of the same city's circumference stuck on your forehead. In that case the system doesn't apply to you and you may negate it by sheer obstinate will.
I mean queue pushing and then quoting Thai maxims such as 'jai yen yen' and 'mai pen rai' is one thing (and she did), but then trying to push in front when you have a ticket that reads 172 and the number at the board is still at 165 is in another dimension, especially when it's at the climax of a two hour wait. It takes some front trying to break the empirical laws of the numerical system.
On pointing out her basic faux pas, she had the cheek to ask 'why you cause problem?' On responding it's not your turn and you're screwing up the system causing everyone who's waiting their turn to wait longer,' she shouted '171 go home,' I replied 'yes but 166, 167, 168, 169 are all still waiting' she shouted 'why you fighting?' At this point, I considered for the first time ever, why Winston Churchill declared in response to requests to send food to India at the height of the Bengal famine of the early 1940s: 'I hate Indians. They are a beastly people with a beastly religion.' (I'm not even a fan of Churchill's apart from his Mary Astor comment, but you get my point)
I think my Grandad Booth had a similar problem with queueing and Indians and he affirmed at the time 'in England we queue'. I could of course be mistaken on this point but if I'm not, I definitely derived his queueing gene and hope it will be passed on to Bamboo.
Take it Easter than India
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Bambhooo, Bambhoooo
A lot of the natives here are like that Harry Enfield character, Tim Nice but Dim except perhaps a little less nice and definitely more dim. I have especially noticed this in Bangkok, perhaps that's because everyone is living on top of each other and after a while it becomes simply too difficult to ignore their intelectual shortfalls, but when you reflect, wouldn't that be typical wherever you were living? I mean imagine 16 million Wiganers crammed into a relatively small and very hot city with acute traffic and sanitation problems.
In the case of Thailand and dimness we don't have to look much further than to their democratically elected Prime Minister, listen to him speak about anything and if you're not laughing, believe you me, you'll be crying. Consider that they spent a fortune on a coup, risked ruining ties with their beloved American Dad, lost a fortune in 'free' trade and tourism, re-wrote the constitution, disbanded the corrupt ousted political party and then when another party appeared with a different name and said we're that old party's lap dog (the one that caused all those terrible problems, mass demonstrations in Bangkok and whose leader was blatantly fiddling you), the people were given a choice and the larger majority, remarkably voted for that very lap dog party. What a worthwhile activity that turned out to be! Funnily enough the democratically elected Mr Popular is now hankering to have the new re-written consitution revoked/ammended/decimated, which would be the ultimate cherry on the cream cake of ultimate futility.
They're also linguistic numpties which makes teaching English or learning their language a complete nightmare. As it's coming up to my fifth anniversary since I first lived amongst these (on occasion) simple minded people I think I'm qualified to comment.
It is quite ironic how when speaking their language you have to get the exact correct sound or they have no idea what you are talking about, I mean what could I possibly be saying to you laundry woman? Can you please iron my shirt too, or have you got any salt and pepper please? How does Rajadamri sound like Ratchada to a Bangkok taxi driver if you don't say Rajadamreeeeee, the other day we had to save two Chinese people who were being taken for a ride (literally), when they said Lang Suan Lum, the taxi driver took them to Soi Rang Nam. But (and this is the irony) they cannot audibly replicate anything, anything at all, I have yet to meet one Westerner whose name they get correct, it's not difficult to repeat exactly the same sound you just heard, Paul, Pon, no Paul, Porn, Paul, Ron ad infinitum. They even correct you on English words, computer, no computeeeerrrrrrrr. So I think I'm being fair with my 'occasionally simple minded' statement, especially if we restrict this view to the arenas of politics and linguistics.
The other week in the park brought a great example of niceness and dimness, these lovely old dears were cooing at Bamboo, as locals tend to do. The natives seem to be obsessed with him, I can't complain about that but it does get worrying when full blown lepers jump out the the sewer and start licking him. Anyway, back to the old dears, Dtocky went to do her aerobics and as these old dears were all dying for a cuddle of Bamboo, I took him over to their park bench. Oh, they loved him (who wouldn't?) but then they asked his name. (Oh god please don't ask for his name, I'm sure my family in England share the same feeling)
We've come to a point where we know that hardly anybody gets his name correct, they are so linguistically challenged they can't say Bamboo or Dylan even (I often wonder if there's anything they can say apart from Mai mee, jing law). Bamboo comes out Baboon (even his Laotion grandad says Baboon ffs), Barun, Bamoo, Babool, Bamoon and just about anything possible but the correct one and Dylan comes out Dirron. We have however devised a system, if they look slightly intelligent then we say Bamboo (you can usually judge a Bangkoker's intelligence by checking their eyes, sometimes you can see brain activity behind them) but usually they have that numb nut glazed look to them, on those many occasions we say Donpai which is Thai for Bamboo so at least they grasp the concept.
So when the old dears asked, cheeu arrai ka (name what please?), I checked their eyes, they appeared to be fronting a functioning CPU with a functioning light emitter display so I said (oh god why did I say it) "Bamboo", confused looks, (Oh please no, I'll try again slowly B a m b o o) Barun? no Bamboo, Bamoo? Help, Help, Eject, Eject, switch to Thai "Don Pai" now they were really confused "Don Pai passaa Thai ber waa Bamboo passaa Angrit..." I waited with bated breath, cogs and wheels turned, one of those lucky Chinese cookies almost fell out and then they got it "Bambhoooo,", "yes", "yes, Bamboo, that's it", "Bambhooo," and then the old lady in the middle started pulling a face at me like a speech therapist would and continued, trying to get me to copy her "Bambhoooo," encouraging nods and smiles looking deep into my eyes for confirmation that I have grasped how to pronounce my own son's name "Bambhoooo"
So there you go, Bangkokers must be the only people in this whole universe, that when you're introducing your own son to them they will correct you on how you pronounce his name? And before you start with your 'perhaps they were just checking pronunciation blah blah' they weren't, they established the correct pronunciation in school, I could see that when Don Pai triggered Bamboo'
So there you go.
Take it East
In the case of Thailand and dimness we don't have to look much further than to their democratically elected Prime Minister, listen to him speak about anything and if you're not laughing, believe you me, you'll be crying. Consider that they spent a fortune on a coup, risked ruining ties with their beloved American Dad, lost a fortune in 'free' trade and tourism, re-wrote the constitution, disbanded the corrupt ousted political party and then when another party appeared with a different name and said we're that old party's lap dog (the one that caused all those terrible problems, mass demonstrations in Bangkok and whose leader was blatantly fiddling you), the people were given a choice and the larger majority, remarkably voted for that very lap dog party. What a worthwhile activity that turned out to be! Funnily enough the democratically elected Mr Popular is now hankering to have the new re-written consitution revoked/ammended/decimated, which would be the ultimate cherry on the cream cake of ultimate futility.
They're also linguistic numpties which makes teaching English or learning their language a complete nightmare. As it's coming up to my fifth anniversary since I first lived amongst these (on occasion) simple minded people I think I'm qualified to comment.
It is quite ironic how when speaking their language you have to get the exact correct sound or they have no idea what you are talking about, I mean what could I possibly be saying to you laundry woman? Can you please iron my shirt too, or have you got any salt and pepper please? How does Rajadamri sound like Ratchada to a Bangkok taxi driver if you don't say Rajadamreeeeee, the other day we had to save two Chinese people who were being taken for a ride (literally), when they said Lang Suan Lum, the taxi driver took them to Soi Rang Nam. But (and this is the irony) they cannot audibly replicate anything, anything at all, I have yet to meet one Westerner whose name they get correct, it's not difficult to repeat exactly the same sound you just heard, Paul, Pon, no Paul, Porn, Paul, Ron ad infinitum. They even correct you on English words, computer, no computeeeerrrrrrrr. So I think I'm being fair with my 'occasionally simple minded' statement, especially if we restrict this view to the arenas of politics and linguistics.
The other week in the park brought a great example of niceness and dimness, these lovely old dears were cooing at Bamboo, as locals tend to do. The natives seem to be obsessed with him, I can't complain about that but it does get worrying when full blown lepers jump out the the sewer and start licking him. Anyway, back to the old dears, Dtocky went to do her aerobics and as these old dears were all dying for a cuddle of Bamboo, I took him over to their park bench. Oh, they loved him (who wouldn't?) but then they asked his name. (Oh god please don't ask for his name, I'm sure my family in England share the same feeling)
We've come to a point where we know that hardly anybody gets his name correct, they are so linguistically challenged they can't say Bamboo or Dylan even (I often wonder if there's anything they can say apart from Mai mee, jing law). Bamboo comes out Baboon (even his Laotion grandad says Baboon ffs), Barun, Bamoo, Babool, Bamoon and just about anything possible but the correct one and Dylan comes out Dirron. We have however devised a system, if they look slightly intelligent then we say Bamboo (you can usually judge a Bangkoker's intelligence by checking their eyes, sometimes you can see brain activity behind them) but usually they have that numb nut glazed look to them, on those many occasions we say Donpai which is Thai for Bamboo so at least they grasp the concept.
So when the old dears asked, cheeu arrai ka (name what please?), I checked their eyes, they appeared to be fronting a functioning CPU with a functioning light emitter display so I said (oh god why did I say it) "Bamboo", confused looks, (Oh please no, I'll try again slowly B a m b o o) Barun? no Bamboo, Bamoo? Help, Help, Eject, Eject, switch to Thai "Don Pai" now they were really confused "Don Pai passaa Thai ber waa Bamboo passaa Angrit..." I waited with bated breath, cogs and wheels turned, one of those lucky Chinese cookies almost fell out and then they got it "Bambhoooo,", "yes", "yes, Bamboo, that's it", "Bambhooo," and then the old lady in the middle started pulling a face at me like a speech therapist would and continued, trying to get me to copy her "Bambhoooo," encouraging nods and smiles looking deep into my eyes for confirmation that I have grasped how to pronounce my own son's name "Bambhoooo"
So there you go, Bangkokers must be the only people in this whole universe, that when you're introducing your own son to them they will correct you on how you pronounce his name? And before you start with your 'perhaps they were just checking pronunciation blah blah' they weren't, they established the correct pronunciation in school, I could see that when Don Pai triggered Bamboo'
So there you go.
Take it East
Toast
Check out this classy innovative state of the art gadget we have for making toast.
It's called fire.
I know my other half is Laotion and my son is half Laotion, but when exactly I became Laotion I cannot say. The realisation dawned on me this morning as I crouched on our balcony faffing around with this contraption, a lighter, some disused kebab skewers, a newspaper and a disgarded plastic nappy bag making toast for half an hour.
It's a bit like that Samuel L. Jackson line in Pulp Fiction when he says, my girlfriend's a vegetarian, which pretty much makes me a vegetarian. My girlfriend's Laotion which pretty much makes me crouch around on a Sunday morning trying to get a fire going.
I wonder if the Communist authorities will go easier on us if I explain that I crouch, if they catch is in our illegitimate relationship, perhaps this is the passport.
Take it East
It's called fire.
I know my other half is Laotion and my son is half Laotion, but when exactly I became Laotion I cannot say. The realisation dawned on me this morning as I crouched on our balcony faffing around with this contraption, a lighter, some disused kebab skewers, a newspaper and a disgarded plastic nappy bag making toast for half an hour.
It's a bit like that Samuel L. Jackson line in Pulp Fiction when he says, my girlfriend's a vegetarian, which pretty much makes me a vegetarian. My girlfriend's Laotion which pretty much makes me crouch around on a Sunday morning trying to get a fire going.
I wonder if the Communist authorities will go easier on us if I explain that I crouch, if they catch is in our illegitimate relationship, perhaps this is the passport.
Take it East
Monday, March 17, 2008
Myanmar Peaceful & Orderly - It's Official
Just when his last comment started to haze from the near indelible indentation it left in my mind, today I picked up the Bangkok Post and read.
Thailand's democratically elected Prime Minister has described Myanmar as a peaceful and orderly country with a military leader who is a good Buddhist who prays every morning... “Killings and suppressions are normal there but we have to know the facts,” said the Thai premier.
http://www.thaindian.com/newsportal/world-news/thai-premier-praises-myanmar-as-peaceful-and-orderly_10027969.html
I have that nauseous feeling again, my head feels dizzy, I want to cry out for all those poor and innocent people being systematically murdered, raped, beaten and silenced.
How can you be so close to such disaster but be so mentally distant? How can people in power be so callous? Would this man have been elected if he had said half of the things he has since taking power?
Tears for Burma, shame on Thailand.
Take it East
Thailand's democratically elected Prime Minister has described Myanmar as a peaceful and orderly country with a military leader who is a good Buddhist who prays every morning... “Killings and suppressions are normal there but we have to know the facts,” said the Thai premier.
http://www.thaindian.com/newsportal/world-news/thai-premier-praises-myanmar-as-peaceful-and-orderly_10027969.html
I have that nauseous feeling again, my head feels dizzy, I want to cry out for all those poor and innocent people being systematically murdered, raped, beaten and silenced.
How can you be so close to such disaster but be so mentally distant? How can people in power be so callous? Would this man have been elected if he had said half of the things he has since taking power?
Tears for Burma, shame on Thailand.
Take it East
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Renaldo & Clara
This was taken with the camera phone, we were out on the Ko San Rd over the weekend and this little girl ran out and started kissing Bamboo, so we asked her to do it again and got it on camera.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
...
Down down you bring me down,
I hear you knocking down my door and I can't sleep at night,
Your face, it has no place,
No room for you inside my head I need to be alone.
Brown, Squire, Reni & Mani
I hear you knocking down my door and I can't sleep at night,
Your face, it has no place,
No room for you inside my head I need to be alone.
Brown, Squire, Reni & Mani
Monday, February 25, 2008
Song for My Sugar Spun Sister
It's been a long time since I wrote to you so I thought I'd better make a good job of it. Every time I hear Ce Matin La by Air I think of you, a brass Yorkshire trumpet/accordion combination on soft French beats, like a sassy mid summer wine flavoured with Compo type stunts in disused bath tubs against rolling green hills. Biggie Smalls is my man these days, hence the delay in writing.
I'll never forget that first foray into Laos (Ce incursion la); Peruvians, French lessons, spring rolls, chocolate pancakes, tubing, a life changing sunset, Beerlao and an attachment to the local herb that bore pipe dreams which became reality when the sultry Mekong mist and haze faded.
Your prediction long ago came true, shortly after last seeing you in Halifax I came back. I was going to go to India but was talked out of it. I went to China instead. On the way, I stopped off in Vientiane to arrange my Chinese visa and bumped into Dtock. The visit to China was delayed although I did eventually make it to the breathtaking (in every way) Tiger Leaping Gorge. I was soon back in Laos and then believe it or not Thailand. We live together in Bangkok now with our four month old son, Bamboo. He's usually in good spirits but he went for his inoculations yesterday and has been overheating and tetchy since. He's playful and communicative like me, good looking, placid and easy going like his Mum. When he cries he screws up his face like I frown on a bad photo, it's uncanny it reminds me of my Dad in a bad mood, thankfully he doesn't cry too much.
Bangkok still attracts the chaff of the west and we're hoping we can get out of here before too long. We're planning the greatest of escapes whilst dodging the sun, tuk tuks and natives with no peripheral vision. Last I heard from you you were in Latin America with a Hawain called Victor, if you get to Little Havannah yell 'Viva Fidel' or you in Africa? Keep going keep going wherever you are.
Take it East
I'll never forget that first foray into Laos (Ce incursion la); Peruvians, French lessons, spring rolls, chocolate pancakes, tubing, a life changing sunset, Beerlao and an attachment to the local herb that bore pipe dreams which became reality when the sultry Mekong mist and haze faded.
Your prediction long ago came true, shortly after last seeing you in Halifax I came back. I was going to go to India but was talked out of it. I went to China instead. On the way, I stopped off in Vientiane to arrange my Chinese visa and bumped into Dtock. The visit to China was delayed although I did eventually make it to the breathtaking (in every way) Tiger Leaping Gorge. I was soon back in Laos and then believe it or not Thailand. We live together in Bangkok now with our four month old son, Bamboo. He's usually in good spirits but he went for his inoculations yesterday and has been overheating and tetchy since. He's playful and communicative like me, good looking, placid and easy going like his Mum. When he cries he screws up his face like I frown on a bad photo, it's uncanny it reminds me of my Dad in a bad mood, thankfully he doesn't cry too much.
Bangkok still attracts the chaff of the west and we're hoping we can get out of here before too long. We're planning the greatest of escapes whilst dodging the sun, tuk tuks and natives with no peripheral vision. Last I heard from you you were in Latin America with a Hawain called Victor, if you get to Little Havannah yell 'Viva Fidel' or you in Africa? Keep going keep going wherever you are.
Take it East
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
It's a Hard Knock (White Monkey) Life
This is by far the best rant I have ever read concerning teaching in Thailand. I cried laughing after reading this...
I have "some" moaning and groaning to do, so I guess I'm here at the right place to do so!
Teaching in Thailand at high school level is a farce and complete bullocks. In 2 years time I taught at 6 different high schools, ranging from the rich, private school to the poor government schools. Teaching at high school could better be referred to as teaching at "hell school".
I came to Thailand on 7 separate occasions, 7 consecutive years. I saw students everywhere in their cute white/black, white/blue uniforms. I saw great respect for their King and for monks and Buddism in general and I thought it would be a teachers heaven to teach such respectful and obedient people. I have some very good Thai friends and so I was so naive to think everybody was like that.
So.....as soon as I started to teach in Bangkok, I saw that my dream became an absolute horror movie. Children at school (high school that is) have no respect whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, not every student was bad. I had some nearly perfect classes like Mathayom 6/1, 5/1, 4/1 and these student were obedient and respectful and did what I asked them to do (doing their assignments, reading texts and so on) and it was a real pleasure to teach them, but unfortunately 90% of the classes following slash 1 (Mathayom 6/3, 5/3 whatever.....) were most of the time absolute hell. Especially the Mathayom 3, 4 slash 4,5 where pure hell.My biggest frustrations at school:- classes ranging from 30 up to 50 students in one class (impossible to handle and to teach)- Thai substitute teachers sometimes present, sitting in the corner of the class, who were supposed to help keeping order, doing nothing, just hang behind their desks without interfering- fighting, phoning (with their mobile phones), playing music on their mobile phones, playing soccer in the class room etc., you name it, I have seen and experienced all of it- people enter the classroom far too late and start to create chaos among the others- complete and utter disrespect in some classes because they think you are a farang, a white monkey (this was said to me in my face on several occasions)
At all schools I had no right to straighten them out. There are no rules whatsoever. Yes, I went to the head of department and the director on many different occasions and they came with me to the classroom and then after some "harsh talks" with the students, they were quiet for 5 minutes and then everything started again. I had classes full of wannabe pop stars, checking their faces and their Korean/Japanese soap-styled-hairdo's in their little pocket mirrors every single moment, just sitting there chewing gum and laughing about me. I had some very hard confrontations with them, telling them that they could laugh about me and disrespect me but at the end of the day I would still make my money and that is far more than they will ever make at the 7-eleven when they leave school.
Wise ass little shit-heads everywhere. They leave their books at home on purpose and just sit there wasting their time while chewing gum and completely disrespecting you. I had a Thai teacher, she was one of the English teachers that taught them 3 hours a week, and this woman always came to my worst classes, just to have a "peek". These classes were absolutely disastrous, no books, no understanding whatsoever of the English language, you name it.....She used to come to my class and ask me: "what are you going to teach them today?". I said to her:" they didn't bring their books again, like every day and they don't understand a word of English, so I can not read with them and practise pronunciation, so there's nothing much I can do". So she used to react a little pissed at me every time and so one day she started to get on my nerves and I told her:"Why is it, that these children have no understanding whatsoever of the English language while you, a Thai teacher who speaks Thai perfectly and also English perfectly teaches them 3 hours a week?". "If I would be able to speak Thai perfectly like you do and had the ability to explain them every single word, I bet your ass they would speak English quite well within a year". Yeh, bingo, she silenced....but didn't like what I said.
Yes, and I didn't like it, this same questioning routine several times a week while they don't handle any set of rules to straighten these children out who are unwilling to learn.Yes, nice line-up every morning at 8. Nice pep talk every morning at 8, but nobody gives a shit.I see 60 year old teachers who are working for the same school for more than 20/30 years and they don't have the energy anymore to do anything to improve the situation.
At one school some Thai teachers told me in my first week that my next 2 hours that day would be absolute hell and that no teacher could handle them, but that day I handled them perfectly, but every hour is a struggle, a war of words and mimic, a complete and utter headache crash course.
The list of what is wrong in the educational system in Thailand is endless and this is due to the system, the parents and the teachers.The system: at most schools were I was there were no exams! People just pass to the next year. No pressure, no study, no nothing.The parents: they don't give a shit and lack any substantial knowledge whatsoever to motivate and educate or force their children to study. School is just a building where you drop your pain-in-the-ass children and have some hours of peace and quiet. Later in the evening? Let's watch some soaps: evening long, brainless entertainment with beautiful-bad-acting-screaming-white-skin models (in whatever word order you want...).
After school they eat and then most of the children disappear again in the soi and go to the game-shops and play computer games till midnight or after, nobody gives a shit.The teachers: most Thai teachers don't care anymore, they just make a living and get their money anyway. Almost every farang teacher that I know does the same (and I know at least 30 in Bangkok). They tell me:"what the f*ck do you get angry about? The are just monkeys......take your money at the end of the month and just don't care about them! That's Thailand! It's a joke!
At the expensive private high schools they don't do much also, otherwise Hi-so daddy will take his child from school and put them somewhere else and teaching is big business in Bangkok, for the schools that is! Rich parents pay a lot to see their children off at some Hi-so school where the real native English speaking "monkey" teaches and where you have "English summer camps".
They all want "the real deal" to teach their children English.My list is endless. And also this "native English teacher" bullshit. The Thai still thinks that everyone coming from a native English speaking country is top and anyone else, non-native speaker is not good enough. What a big laugh! It's such a farce! I had a conversation with a guy from Manchester the other day and the day after with an Irish guy and don't forget the Cockney accent or Aussie..... God help us! Even I could hardly understand them!There are native English speaking teachers around for more than 20 years and what is the level of English till now among the common Thai? Zero and non-existing! Only some rich Thai people who have the money to go to some of the better schools, or the ones who can afford to go abroad, are able to speak English to a certain extend.And yes....all these little hustlers in the tourist areas like Khaosan and Silom/Sukhumvit, bar girls and such, they know to a certain extend to "use" the English language, standing or horizontal.
It's one big joke and unfortunately a sad one.I see teachers getting hired and getting paid 40/50.000 Baht a month, who have absolutely no good knowledge to be at these positions. But just because they are "handsome" and/or know the right people, schools and universities offer them a job (even ask them to marry their daughters...). Why do I get angry? I came because I like Thai people, I came to help them, no problem if I have to stay longer to teach them as long as they are eager and willing to learn, I will stay, even though it's my own time, nothing paid, I don't care.I am a real teacher..
Jeff K taken from Ajarn.com
Take it East
I have "some" moaning and groaning to do, so I guess I'm here at the right place to do so!
Teaching in Thailand at high school level is a farce and complete bullocks. In 2 years time I taught at 6 different high schools, ranging from the rich, private school to the poor government schools. Teaching at high school could better be referred to as teaching at "hell school".
I came to Thailand on 7 separate occasions, 7 consecutive years. I saw students everywhere in their cute white/black, white/blue uniforms. I saw great respect for their King and for monks and Buddism in general and I thought it would be a teachers heaven to teach such respectful and obedient people. I have some very good Thai friends and so I was so naive to think everybody was like that.
So.....as soon as I started to teach in Bangkok, I saw that my dream became an absolute horror movie. Children at school (high school that is) have no respect whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, not every student was bad. I had some nearly perfect classes like Mathayom 6/1, 5/1, 4/1 and these student were obedient and respectful and did what I asked them to do (doing their assignments, reading texts and so on) and it was a real pleasure to teach them, but unfortunately 90% of the classes following slash 1 (Mathayom 6/3, 5/3 whatever.....) were most of the time absolute hell. Especially the Mathayom 3, 4 slash 4,5 where pure hell.My biggest frustrations at school:- classes ranging from 30 up to 50 students in one class (impossible to handle and to teach)- Thai substitute teachers sometimes present, sitting in the corner of the class, who were supposed to help keeping order, doing nothing, just hang behind their desks without interfering- fighting, phoning (with their mobile phones), playing music on their mobile phones, playing soccer in the class room etc., you name it, I have seen and experienced all of it- people enter the classroom far too late and start to create chaos among the others- complete and utter disrespect in some classes because they think you are a farang, a white monkey (this was said to me in my face on several occasions)
At all schools I had no right to straighten them out. There are no rules whatsoever. Yes, I went to the head of department and the director on many different occasions and they came with me to the classroom and then after some "harsh talks" with the students, they were quiet for 5 minutes and then everything started again. I had classes full of wannabe pop stars, checking their faces and their Korean/Japanese soap-styled-hairdo's in their little pocket mirrors every single moment, just sitting there chewing gum and laughing about me. I had some very hard confrontations with them, telling them that they could laugh about me and disrespect me but at the end of the day I would still make my money and that is far more than they will ever make at the 7-eleven when they leave school.
Wise ass little shit-heads everywhere. They leave their books at home on purpose and just sit there wasting their time while chewing gum and completely disrespecting you. I had a Thai teacher, she was one of the English teachers that taught them 3 hours a week, and this woman always came to my worst classes, just to have a "peek". These classes were absolutely disastrous, no books, no understanding whatsoever of the English language, you name it.....She used to come to my class and ask me: "what are you going to teach them today?". I said to her:" they didn't bring their books again, like every day and they don't understand a word of English, so I can not read with them and practise pronunciation, so there's nothing much I can do". So she used to react a little pissed at me every time and so one day she started to get on my nerves and I told her:"Why is it, that these children have no understanding whatsoever of the English language while you, a Thai teacher who speaks Thai perfectly and also English perfectly teaches them 3 hours a week?". "If I would be able to speak Thai perfectly like you do and had the ability to explain them every single word, I bet your ass they would speak English quite well within a year". Yeh, bingo, she silenced....but didn't like what I said.
Yes, and I didn't like it, this same questioning routine several times a week while they don't handle any set of rules to straighten these children out who are unwilling to learn.Yes, nice line-up every morning at 8. Nice pep talk every morning at 8, but nobody gives a shit.I see 60 year old teachers who are working for the same school for more than 20/30 years and they don't have the energy anymore to do anything to improve the situation.
At one school some Thai teachers told me in my first week that my next 2 hours that day would be absolute hell and that no teacher could handle them, but that day I handled them perfectly, but every hour is a struggle, a war of words and mimic, a complete and utter headache crash course.
The list of what is wrong in the educational system in Thailand is endless and this is due to the system, the parents and the teachers.The system: at most schools were I was there were no exams! People just pass to the next year. No pressure, no study, no nothing.The parents: they don't give a shit and lack any substantial knowledge whatsoever to motivate and educate or force their children to study. School is just a building where you drop your pain-in-the-ass children and have some hours of peace and quiet. Later in the evening? Let's watch some soaps: evening long, brainless entertainment with beautiful-bad-acting-screaming-white-skin models (in whatever word order you want...).
After school they eat and then most of the children disappear again in the soi and go to the game-shops and play computer games till midnight or after, nobody gives a shit.The teachers: most Thai teachers don't care anymore, they just make a living and get their money anyway. Almost every farang teacher that I know does the same (and I know at least 30 in Bangkok). They tell me:"what the f*ck do you get angry about? The are just monkeys......take your money at the end of the month and just don't care about them! That's Thailand! It's a joke!
At the expensive private high schools they don't do much also, otherwise Hi-so daddy will take his child from school and put them somewhere else and teaching is big business in Bangkok, for the schools that is! Rich parents pay a lot to see their children off at some Hi-so school where the real native English speaking "monkey" teaches and where you have "English summer camps".
They all want "the real deal" to teach their children English.My list is endless. And also this "native English teacher" bullshit. The Thai still thinks that everyone coming from a native English speaking country is top and anyone else, non-native speaker is not good enough. What a big laugh! It's such a farce! I had a conversation with a guy from Manchester the other day and the day after with an Irish guy and don't forget the Cockney accent or Aussie..... God help us! Even I could hardly understand them!There are native English speaking teachers around for more than 20 years and what is the level of English till now among the common Thai? Zero and non-existing! Only some rich Thai people who have the money to go to some of the better schools, or the ones who can afford to go abroad, are able to speak English to a certain extend.And yes....all these little hustlers in the tourist areas like Khaosan and Silom/Sukhumvit, bar girls and such, they know to a certain extend to "use" the English language, standing or horizontal.
It's one big joke and unfortunately a sad one.I see teachers getting hired and getting paid 40/50.000 Baht a month, who have absolutely no good knowledge to be at these positions. But just because they are "handsome" and/or know the right people, schools and universities offer them a job (even ask them to marry their daughters...). Why do I get angry? I came because I like Thai people, I came to help them, no problem if I have to stay longer to teach them as long as they are eager and willing to learn, I will stay, even though it's my own time, nothing paid, I don't care.I am a real teacher..
Jeff K taken from Ajarn.com
Take it East
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
So Young
On Sunday evening Bamboo made his first substantial forward motion and in finding a technique that if not graceful was at least somewhat workable decided to go for his first challenge and traverse length of the bed in front crawl.
After weeks of spinal flexions and extensions, finding himself in all manner of different positions and places, it was only a matter of time before he put the two movements together and came up with the wriggly worm technique of motion. Without much strength in his arms to prop him up and legs like unusually large bollards for a boy of three and a half months, it wasn’t going to be pretty. With steely Bamboo determination, he pitched his feet in for purchase and glided on his face. Once a steady rate of momentum was achieved he made up quilt in an impressive amount of time and celebrated his achievement by bringing up his last meal.
In celebratory style father wryly quipped to mother ‘at this rate it won’t be long before we can to send him to the shop’
Take it East
After weeks of spinal flexions and extensions, finding himself in all manner of different positions and places, it was only a matter of time before he put the two movements together and came up with the wriggly worm technique of motion. Without much strength in his arms to prop him up and legs like unusually large bollards for a boy of three and a half months, it wasn’t going to be pretty. With steely Bamboo determination, he pitched his feet in for purchase and glided on his face. Once a steady rate of momentum was achieved he made up quilt in an impressive amount of time and celebrated his achievement by bringing up his last meal.
In celebratory style father wryly quipped to mother ‘at this rate it won’t be long before we can to send him to the shop’
Take it East
Friday, February 08, 2008
Discussing Gender in Thai Society
Is it wrong not to always be glad ?
No, its not wrong - but I must add
How can someone so young
Sing words so sad?
Sheila Take a Bow, The Smiths
My highest level class is at the equivalent of lower sixth form in the UK, we've just covered a chapter talking about gender and the differences between men and women and how these differences can manifest themselves in culture and language. I then set the class the essay question for their end of term score: Are boys and girls treated differently in your home culture? Are they taught differently? Discuss similarities and differences in the ways boys and girls are treated.
The first piece of work I had to mark was this, all grammatical errors and syntax have been left 'unadulterated' to give the reader an authentic feel for the writer's raw originality, this is from one of the more gifted students (seriously).
In Thai culture, the family teach boys and girls differently. The boys mostly do anything with father and the girls mostly do anything with mother.
Most of Thai family think that the boys have to do anything with father because father is a man and they can teach the boys about how to be a gentleman. Father can teach the boys everything such as play football, ride a bicycle or do anything that the boys have to do.
Thai families think that if the boys mostly do anything with mother, the boys maybe homosexual or may be bisexual or may be deviate. Similarly, the girls mostly do anything with mother such as cooking, sewing, to iron clothes or how to be a good housewife or how to be a good lady.
So Thai family teach the boys and the girls differently. Because of a lot of reasons such as deviation, homosexual, how to be a good lady, how to be a gentleman etc. Most of Thai family give liberty to the boys and the girls but they also have rules for the boys and the girls to do anything in the right way and in the future, their boys and their girls will be a good gentleman and a good lady.
Panoopong Piroosawan.
I may call the Thais disorganised but when it comes to mind control they're geniuses. Nearly every essay contains myopic, chauvinist, nationalist rhetoric and sentiment. I wish I'd set the task how to make the perfect somtam.
Bob Dylan once said "Colleges are like old-age homes; except for the fact that more people die in colleges than in old age homes, there's really no difference." By that reckoning I'm in the business of mass genocide. And don't tell me you can't have genocide against your own race.
Take it East
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Desperation Soi
They’re selling T-Shirts for the funeral
The pink revolution ran aground
The staffroom’s filled with talk show hosts
And an assortment of clowns
Here comes the blind Westerner
They’ve got him in a trance
As he heads for the naughty boys corner
With both hands in his pants
And the little green boys they’re restless
They need a coup deploy
As Dtocky and I look out tonight
From Desperation Soi
Superporn, she is so busy
Grabbing anyone that she can
reaching inbetween my pockets
she used to be a man
And in comes Lothario he’s moaning
"there’s something wrong with my spleen"
The bar girl says "buy me a drink baksida
and have your Listerine"
And the only silence left
Is the ambulance's noise
They won't be picking up
On Desperation Soi
Now the mess is almost hidden
If you cling to the fancy malls
The fortune telling lady
Is making political calls
All except for the paraplegics
And the Hunchback of Kao San
Everybody is in your way
Or else being a pain
And the good Samaritan, he’s selling
Freedom, feel good jump for joy
Releasing poor innocent birds tonight
On Desperation Soi
Now Noi, she's on an allowance
from her man, he's a nutter
a teacher's wage isn't enough
to keep her out of the gutter
To her life is not romantic
She is full of tricks
Her profession mimics religion
She gets beat on a crucifix
And the crane driver from London
Is moving on to Hanoi
Cos these chicks are getting old
On Desperation Soi
Taksin, disguised as Robin Hood
With cash for votes in a trunk
Sailing just off Hong Kong Island
He’s living in a Chinese junk
He sent his wife to face the charges
But he’ll be following soon
And he went off with Sven Goran
Reciting the Blue Moon
Now you would not think to look at him
He was ousted like a fallen cowboy
For creaming off tax payers
On Desperation Soi
Ajarn Filth, he keeps his world
In a transparent double life
Some of his sixth form pupils
Have gotten him in strife
Now her parents weren’t too happy
When they heard of the crude invite
"Those grades aren’t too far away
Waiting at my bar tonight"
His agency turned a blind eye
They only employ
Any feckless baksida who happens
On Desperation Soi
In the temples they’re taking orders
They’re getting ready for the new regime
The mumbling of the mantra
It’s just gone 4am
They’re spoon feeding veneration
The roofs are lacquered gold
Then they'll wallow in the reflection
Of their fantasy dream world
And the phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Hold it in don't be annoyed
take it out of the next imbecile's wallet you see
On Desperation Soi"
Now at moonlight all the sampans
Are drifting in the tide
Let’s wait for the sun to rise
And not go to bed tonight
Then we’ll go back to the bungalow
Where a fluro sign reads
on the beam above your hammock
"follow your dreams"
but don't stay here for too long
For Helen of Troy
Is checking to see that nobody is escaping
From Desperation Soi
Praise be to Chinese tea shops
with no tea to be sold
you can bring your mother
but she has to ask in code
and the Swedish extra and the Jewish photographer
making out on baksida's hours
while ladyboy singers ask them for work
and Persian men hold flowers
between the hours of ping pong
Teacher Ron takes on the boys
So nobody tries to think too much
On Desperation Soi
Yes, I received your email yesterday
about that time years ago
When you asked how I was doing
Don't you know the score?
And from this desperate nation
yes, I know it's quite insane
just a plurality of races
except most of them look the same
right now I can't go out too much
because I have to avoid
stooping grovelling salesmen
On Desperation Soi
Take It East
The pink revolution ran aground
The staffroom’s filled with talk show hosts
And an assortment of clowns
Here comes the blind Westerner
They’ve got him in a trance
As he heads for the naughty boys corner
With both hands in his pants
And the little green boys they’re restless
They need a coup deploy
As Dtocky and I look out tonight
From Desperation Soi
Superporn, she is so busy
Grabbing anyone that she can
reaching inbetween my pockets
she used to be a man
And in comes Lothario he’s moaning
"there’s something wrong with my spleen"
The bar girl says "buy me a drink baksida
and have your Listerine"
And the only silence left
Is the ambulance's noise
They won't be picking up
On Desperation Soi
Now the mess is almost hidden
If you cling to the fancy malls
The fortune telling lady
Is making political calls
All except for the paraplegics
And the Hunchback of Kao San
Everybody is in your way
Or else being a pain
And the good Samaritan, he’s selling
Freedom, feel good jump for joy
Releasing poor innocent birds tonight
On Desperation Soi
Now Noi, she's on an allowance
from her man, he's a nutter
a teacher's wage isn't enough
to keep her out of the gutter
To her life is not romantic
She is full of tricks
Her profession mimics religion
She gets beat on a crucifix
And the crane driver from London
Is moving on to Hanoi
Cos these chicks are getting old
On Desperation Soi
Taksin, disguised as Robin Hood
With cash for votes in a trunk
Sailing just off Hong Kong Island
He’s living in a Chinese junk
He sent his wife to face the charges
But he’ll be following soon
And he went off with Sven Goran
Reciting the Blue Moon
Now you would not think to look at him
He was ousted like a fallen cowboy
For creaming off tax payers
On Desperation Soi
Ajarn Filth, he keeps his world
In a transparent double life
Some of his sixth form pupils
Have gotten him in strife
Now her parents weren’t too happy
When they heard of the crude invite
"Those grades aren’t too far away
Waiting at my bar tonight"
His agency turned a blind eye
They only employ
Any feckless baksida who happens
On Desperation Soi
In the temples they’re taking orders
They’re getting ready for the new regime
The mumbling of the mantra
It’s just gone 4am
They’re spoon feeding veneration
The roofs are lacquered gold
Then they'll wallow in the reflection
Of their fantasy dream world
And the phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Hold it in don't be annoyed
take it out of the next imbecile's wallet you see
On Desperation Soi"
Now at moonlight all the sampans
Are drifting in the tide
Let’s wait for the sun to rise
And not go to bed tonight
Then we’ll go back to the bungalow
Where a fluro sign reads
on the beam above your hammock
"follow your dreams"
but don't stay here for too long
For Helen of Troy
Is checking to see that nobody is escaping
From Desperation Soi
Praise be to Chinese tea shops
with no tea to be sold
you can bring your mother
but she has to ask in code
and the Swedish extra and the Jewish photographer
making out on baksida's hours
while ladyboy singers ask them for work
and Persian men hold flowers
between the hours of ping pong
Teacher Ron takes on the boys
So nobody tries to think too much
On Desperation Soi
Yes, I received your email yesterday
about that time years ago
When you asked how I was doing
Don't you know the score?
And from this desperate nation
yes, I know it's quite insane
just a plurality of races
except most of them look the same
right now I can't go out too much
because I have to avoid
stooping grovelling salesmen
On Desperation Soi
Take It East
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Bring on the Arsenal
Here comes my second ever blog and I apologise but I want to talk about football. Not football in itself but the 'Universal Language of Football'.
The immediate motivation for this blog comes from a 14 year old Thai boy called Bombay, on Monday I was taking a class, it was the first time I had met them. As per the routine, I introduced myself as Paul from Manchester in England. I have gone through this routine so many times, it almost becomes insincere, usually in Thai classes you get a few people shouting Man U, at this point I laugh and say Manchester is a City, Man U is not.
On this occasion last monday however, something different happened a hand shot up, nobody spoke, I acknowledged the hand, Bombay's hand. In perfect English he asked me which football team I support. It stopped me in my tracks, a perfectly delivered question from a Thai student asked as naturally as I would ask a new work colleague in England the same thing. I told him Burnley and he immediately said 'ahh, you beat Liverpool in the cup'....Grade A for Bombay.
Reader, if you are following so far then you are probably aware of the mandatory conversation that goes on between any two males of European (and probably South American) descent at the onset of an introductory conversation. It's like an ice breaker, who do you support? Or words to that effect. If you are not then you should be, this happens it really does.
Like Toby for instance, he's half Thai half Swede we met before a 14 hour coach journey from Bangkok to Satun, it didn't take long for us to start talking about the beautiful game. The conversation went something like this... where are you from? Sweden. Do you like football? Yes, who do you support Man U? (sarcastic English put down) Yes I love Man U.... later in the converation Toby set about lacerating English football and it's seminal narcisstic attitude which can so easily be conveyed as arrogance. The conversation went on and on, but here we have two adults from two different backgrounds communicating about a subject so deep to themselves and yet so empty and meaningless on the great plain of things (my mum will love that last bit if she made it this far)
'It's just 22 men kicking a ball around a field' Anonymous
'It's not a matter of life and death, it's more important than that,' Bill Shankly
'Never trust a man who doesn't like football,' Frank Skinner's dad
I love football talk, I could go on for hours, some people can quote facts and figures some people know their history, others play so much Champ Man it destroys their life. But in itself it is an amazing form of communication and.... bringing me back to Bombay it is a motivational tool to encourage one 14 year old Thai boy who has never even left Thailand to learn and talk like an Englishman about an Englishman's religion (sorry Toby a Swede's too).
I'd like to thank everyone who I've ever played or talked about football with, to or at. Especially my Dad who introduced me to the game by lifting me over Turf Moor's turnstiles every next Saturday and sitting me on the terraces front fence on many a cold miserable (depending on the result even more miserable at 4:50, Saturday afternoon) East Lancashire afternoon.
As I finished editing this, the Thai afternoon monsoon hit, the sun came out, the Thais outside continued playing football in the very heavy rain and a rainbow appeared over Thailand's proud fluttering flag.
Blog On
That was my second ever blog lifted from my previous space. Just as relevant then as it always will be, today I am football effected, Burnley v Arsenal will be beamed into my flat in central Bangkok and all I can do all day is fidget and dream about the impossible happening. This will be the second time I've ever caught a Burnley game over here, the less said about the last the better. No more dissapointment (I know I set myself up for these falls, but isn't that what it's all about)
Come on You Clarets
Take it East
The immediate motivation for this blog comes from a 14 year old Thai boy called Bombay, on Monday I was taking a class, it was the first time I had met them. As per the routine, I introduced myself as Paul from Manchester in England. I have gone through this routine so many times, it almost becomes insincere, usually in Thai classes you get a few people shouting Man U, at this point I laugh and say Manchester is a City, Man U is not.
On this occasion last monday however, something different happened a hand shot up, nobody spoke, I acknowledged the hand, Bombay's hand. In perfect English he asked me which football team I support. It stopped me in my tracks, a perfectly delivered question from a Thai student asked as naturally as I would ask a new work colleague in England the same thing. I told him Burnley and he immediately said 'ahh, you beat Liverpool in the cup'....Grade A for Bombay.
Reader, if you are following so far then you are probably aware of the mandatory conversation that goes on between any two males of European (and probably South American) descent at the onset of an introductory conversation. It's like an ice breaker, who do you support? Or words to that effect. If you are not then you should be, this happens it really does.
Like Toby for instance, he's half Thai half Swede we met before a 14 hour coach journey from Bangkok to Satun, it didn't take long for us to start talking about the beautiful game. The conversation went something like this... where are you from? Sweden. Do you like football? Yes, who do you support Man U? (sarcastic English put down) Yes I love Man U.... later in the converation Toby set about lacerating English football and it's seminal narcisstic attitude which can so easily be conveyed as arrogance. The conversation went on and on, but here we have two adults from two different backgrounds communicating about a subject so deep to themselves and yet so empty and meaningless on the great plain of things (my mum will love that last bit if she made it this far)
'It's just 22 men kicking a ball around a field' Anonymous
'It's not a matter of life and death, it's more important than that,' Bill Shankly
'Never trust a man who doesn't like football,' Frank Skinner's dad
I love football talk, I could go on for hours, some people can quote facts and figures some people know their history, others play so much Champ Man it destroys their life. But in itself it is an amazing form of communication and.... bringing me back to Bombay it is a motivational tool to encourage one 14 year old Thai boy who has never even left Thailand to learn and talk like an Englishman about an Englishman's religion (sorry Toby a Swede's too).
I'd like to thank everyone who I've ever played or talked about football with, to or at. Especially my Dad who introduced me to the game by lifting me over Turf Moor's turnstiles every next Saturday and sitting me on the terraces front fence on many a cold miserable (depending on the result even more miserable at 4:50, Saturday afternoon) East Lancashire afternoon.
As I finished editing this, the Thai afternoon monsoon hit, the sun came out, the Thais outside continued playing football in the very heavy rain and a rainbow appeared over Thailand's proud fluttering flag.
Blog On
That was my second ever blog lifted from my previous space. Just as relevant then as it always will be, today I am football effected, Burnley v Arsenal will be beamed into my flat in central Bangkok and all I can do all day is fidget and dream about the impossible happening. This will be the second time I've ever caught a Burnley game over here, the less said about the last the better. No more dissapointment (I know I set myself up for these falls, but isn't that what it's all about)
Come on You Clarets
Take it East
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
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