{"id":2317,"date":"2015-02-12T15:28:14","date_gmt":"2015-02-12T15:28:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.farmingdale.edu\/blogs\/?p=2317"},"modified":"2015-02-12T15:28:14","modified_gmt":"2015-02-12T15:28:14","slug":"life-in-the-land-of-smiles-my-thailand-experience","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/2015\/02\/life-in-the-land-of-smiles-my-thailand-experience\/","title":{"rendered":"Life In The “Land of Smiles” – My Thailand Experience"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"spicy<\/a><\/p>\n

I am sitting down at a table with people I just met. Even though they don’t know me, and I don’t know them, it feels like we’ve been friends forever. That’s the way they act towards me. Their smiles are warm, and the food they offer me is even warmer, or should I say spicier<\/i>.<\/p>\n

I take a bite of my pad-gra-pow<\/i> (ground pork with rice). I try to act cool, but it doesn’t take long before my eyes water, my tongue burns, and I inhale sharply, giving away my discomfort. Hurts so bad, but tastes sooooo<\/i> good. My hosts giggle with their friends, saying \u201cphet, mai\u201d?<\/i> (spicy, no?). At the same time, they offer me water, bread, and rice to help alleviate\u00a0my mouth.<\/p>\n

One of my hosts smiles at me. He does a slow “fork-and-bowl” eating motion with his hands. “Take your time,” he is telling\u00a0me. I try to follow his advice, but one of the habits I brought with me from America is eating fast when a meal is delicious. I continue that habit here. It’s a miracle that I haven’t gone to the hospital yet.<\/p>\n

…..<\/p>\n

\"cycling\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I am riding my bicycle down the main road in front of my school. It’s a warm, bright Saturday afternoon, barely a cloud in the sky. I’m not sweating yet, but pretty soon I will be. I haven’t been in Chiang Rai too long, but I’ve been here long enough to be able to nearly calculate how long it will take before I need to change my shirt again. But there’s no time to worry about that now. I have a mission: Buy a juicy mini-watermelon at the TESCO supermarket.<\/p>\n

Usually, I’d ask my new friend and fellow teacher to give me a ride on the back of his motorbike, but since he’s in Myanmar for the weekend, I come up with the idea of riding their on bicycle, using my empty book-bag to carry it home.<\/p>\n

I enjoy cycling. I love the feeling of the wind in my face and the sun on my back as I ride. In front of me, far into the distance, Is a great view of one of Chiang Rai’s many mountain ranges. A scene that deserves to be on a postcard (and most likely already is).<\/p>\n

I get to the supermarket, run over to the watermelon basket, ponder for a minute or two, then pluck out my favorite. It’s a delicate process. Then I buy the melon (Cashier:\u201cSawadee ka<\/i>. 75 baht.\u201d), stuff it in my bag, hoist it onto my back, and walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot.<\/p>\n

As I ride, an older woman selling pineapples on the side of the road smiles and waves at me. I do the same, always delighted by the daily acts kindness I receive from the townspeople. It’s not until I wait at a red light when I think to myself:\u00a0You know, I could really go for some coconut water too<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I make a left turn and go straight for the afternoon market, mini-watermelon in tow.<\/p>\n

…..<\/p>\n

\"students\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I am standing in front of my early afternoon 5\/9 class (Grade 11, in American terms). I’m reading from my textbook a\u00a0dialogue between \u201cAnna\u201d and her brother \u201cMike\u201d about their daily activities. While reading aloud, I glance up from the page and see most of my kids following along in their own books, but some boys in the back corner are on their cellphones. Still reading, I stroll over to them, and they hurriedly shove their phones into their desks.<\/p>\n

However, from the corner of my eye I see one boy puts his phone under his book, his hand still on it, obviously waiting to pull it back out. I stop reading, turn in his direction, stop reading and stare. He stares as well. It’s a death match. Neither one of us are moving. Not hearing my voice anymore, the students stop and look at both of us.<\/p>\n

His gaze wavers, feeling nervous in front of our new audience. The pressure is on.<\/p>\n

Finally, after what seemed like years (actually it was two seconds), he grumbles, “okay, okay teacha!”, and puts his phone in his multicolored bag.<\/p>\n

“Thank you very much!” I say, magically turning my frown into a smile. Victory. I open my book and continue reading…<\/p>\n

…..<\/p>\n

\"bangkok1\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I am walking through my new favorite city in the entire world, Krung Thep, or as most tourists call it, Bangkok. I used to think Manhattan was the end-all, be-all for cities, but Bangkok quickly steals my heart. It’s hot, as usual, but my mind’s desire to explore always seems to overpower my body’s desire for shelter from the heat.<\/p>\n

At 14:00, Thai’s and tourists more sane that I am are harder to find at this time of the day. However, I’m staying at a hotel in an area of Bangkok that I’ve never seen, and of course I want to see more. I venture out for food, but soon become more interested in looking at the many towering buildings, glass windows glittering in the afternoon sun. Every few steps I pass multiple restaurants, offering not just Thai food, but German, Israeli, Italian, Chinese, and Indian. During my stroll I make a mental note to return to the Israeli one, so I can check it off my list.<\/p>\n

After sweating one-fifth of my body weight in water, I decide to head to one of the many, many, many<\/i> 7\/11 stores and pick up a croissant and a banana. An appetizer for now. I’ll save the main course later…<\/p>\n

…..<\/p>\n

\"SV<\/a><\/p>\n

I am on a plane, preparing to leave Suvarnabhumi Airport. This will be the first plane of many. We begin our ascent into the bright blue morning sky, my twenty-two-hour flight to America just beginning. At the same time, this ends my Thailand adventure.<\/p>\n

I remember my flight to Thailand last year being a little boring. Filling up ten hours of layover time wasn’t\u00a0easy, but this time I have a treasure chest of memories to keep me company.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I am sitting down at a table with people I just met. Even though they don’t know me, and I don’t know them, it feels like we’ve been friends forever. That’s the way they act towards me. Their smiles are warm, and the food they offer me is even warmer, or should I say spicier. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":76,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2317","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-alumni","category-himmler"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2317"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/76"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2317"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2317\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2317"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2317"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogsdev.farmingdale.edu\/sites\/rambassadors\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2317"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}