4:30 AM. Meeting in front of my office for trip to Wang Nam Keow. Students arranged the time. Why am I the only one here?
Category: Work
Dawn in Laem Ngop
From the front of our bungalows, we can see Koh Chang.
Laem Ngop, Trat
That’s where we are. Ain’t a bigeye around that can say it properly, either. Sounds like Ho Chi Min hockin’ a loogie or something.
Work experience visit
Our two students at the resort in Saraburi are doing well… Or at least one is pulling the other along. That’s just how it is sometimes.
The 5 we are visiting in this tiny harbor village in Trat, however, seem to have it a lot harder. They are working at a Tourist Authority of Thailand office here which seems an improbable situation at the least, since there isn’t even a 7-11 in town (a primary indicator that you are in the middle of nowhere in Thailand). Anyhow, we will visit them at the office in an official capacity first thing in the morning.
As a sidenote, we entertained ourselves this evening by catching little crabs at low tide on the rocks our bungalows overlook. They look just like the one I used for bait fishing for sheepshead at Catalina with my dad when I was an Indian Scout.
Why Android is the best for now
Two words: Google Maps
Yes, I know you have it on the iCrap, too, but Google will never make it as good for you. Fact.
I’m heading off on a trip to visit some 3rd year students interning in Saraburi, Trat, and Koh Chang for a few days. Leaving at 5AM tomorrow, so I’m starring destinations and saving route info (toll and non-toll, with different ferry options to the island) in Google Maps on my PC. Tomorrow, I’ll be able to access it all from my phone. This is the kind of techno-wienery I’ve been dreaming about since I was 7.
Day 1: Maha Sarakham to Saraburi and Trat (city)
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Day 2: Trat (city) to Koh Chang Destinations
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On the way home from Nam Nao
English camp was extremely successful this year; our new teaching format worked out very well and feedback from the students has been overwhelmingly positive so far. The biggest complaint I’ve heard is that they don’t want to have class tomorrow, which is understandable, but necessary since last Friday was a national holiday and I can’t let them fall behind the other class taking the same course.
Ajarn Teera is driving and I’m sitting shotgun, my weapon of choice is this trusty Samsung Galaxy 5 loaded with Android 2.1 and an improved Swype haptic input system.
It seems a member of the royal family is in this area because there are police stationed every hundred meters along the highway.
A few miles back we stopped on a particularly scenic bridge and I may have gotten a good shot:
Last Night of English Camp
I have a student who takes after my pal T in Japan so much it’s scary.
Lunch at Chumpae
Duck ramen; duck was deboned nicely and bean sprouts were put in the bowl before serving fpr a change, but the broth was bland. Watch out all roadside stands between here and the mountains, you are being evaluated by a pro.
alluring address
Today I was greatly relieved to see that one of my innocent first year students had changed her e-mail address per my suggestion last week. I had been reluctant to use her previous address, lovelyhotlove@hotmail.com.
The Accidental Motorcycle Thief
The other day, I wanted to go for a quick lunch at the canteen (cafeteria), so I asked one of the students interning for the Japanese course if I could borrow her scooter. She gave me the key and told me where it was parked, along with a description. She said the license plate number was 85, and that it was a 100cc Honda Wave, with a manual transmission, in gray.
I found the 100cc manual Honda Wave almost immediately, but noticed that the license plate was actually 58 and that it was blue with gray accents. I chalked it up to the student remembering it wrong, or me hearing it wrong, and decided to test it by trying to start it up: No problem. I rode off in the direction of lunch, happily upshifting with my foot in this age of boring automatic plastic bi-wheeled conveyances.
When I got back on the scooter after lunch, the key was harder to turn. I had to work at it a bit. Then, when I got back to my building, I couldn’t turn the key to the far left to lock the steering column. I tried for a few minutes doing the jiggle-turn maneuver, but finally just gave up. When I went back to my office, I told the intern that I couldn’t lock her bike and asked if she’d had problems with her key, but she had no idea what I was talking about. A warning sign flashed briefly in my head.
“You said your plate number was 5-8, right?” I asked.
“No, I said 8-5,” she said.
Uh-oh.
I looked down at where I’d parked the bike and saw a girl wiping tears from her eyes, our building’s custodian trying to console her, and a security guard talking into a walkie talkie.
I went down and apologized, and in the end, everyone except the victim had a good laugh about it (she was still in shock at having her scooter stolen). I felt bad for making her feel bad, but also because the first time I stole a bike, [A.] it was only 100cc, [B.] it required no skill because of the worn lock, and [C.] it provided zero exhilaration because IT WAS A TOTAL ACCIDENT.