MicahJohn

The creepiness first. Today I got my other Thai driver’s license (the car and motorcycle are seperate). One of the girls behind the counter who had flirted with me some last time, was over the top this time. After I had left I got a call from her. She had taken my number off my application for a license. When she called I was playing guitar with a friend, and told her it wasn’t a good time. She called again later in the day. I didn’t answer. She called a minute later. I didn’t answer. She called again. I answered and let her know I was eating dinner with friends (see below). She asked how long I would be eating dinner. I said until late. Since nine fifteen she has been repeatedly calling me. I have yet to answer. Enough of the creepy.

Now for the tortillas. Tonight I had tortillas for the first time since coming to Thailand. Not to mention homemade refried beans and guacamole (the guacamole was yellow—not green—and tasted a little different). I had not realized how much I missed good southwest food. It was also a good time of hanging out and speaking English. We (two of the other teachers from my school and a third friend) talked about all sorts of things that I don’t have the ability or the opportunity to talk about in Thai.

The conversation tonight on the front porch of room 10 was very instructive this evening. I learned some of the culture of laundry. The traditional Thai way to sort laundry is male-female. To sort by colors is a foreign thing. Thai would never hang pants to dry above the height of their head. Thai hang shirts above pants to dry. Women’s clothing is not hung out to dry above men’s clothing.

The topic of vacation came up. I heard my neighbors’ take on just about every conceivable mode of public transportation from here to Chiang Mai. Which vehicles are full of bugs that suck your blood. Which vehicles you need to hide money in four different places, so that if a few of your pockets get picked, you still have some cash. Which buses change drivers midway through the night, and which don’t.

From vacation we arrived at the question of “did I want to visit Cambodia?” My “yes” elicited the question, “aren’t you scared?” This confused me, so I responded with, “afraid of what?” The answer was a word I didn’t know. So then they proceed to describe to me what I believe would best be called a medicine man in English. They explained to me that while medicine men in Thailand are quite good at healing people, medicine men in Cambodia are quite good at cursing people. Additionally, Cambodian medicine men don’t shy away from casting stronger spells, even ones that kill you.

Apparently generally such a curse is placed on or in something you will then wear or eat. For example, while I’m inside someones house (with my shoes left outside per cultural mandate), if someone doesn’t like me, they can come along and place a curse on my sandals. Then, I come out of the house, put on my sandals, and get a wicked stomach ache.

I’m glad I belong to พระเจ้าสูงสุด, the tallest God, God Most High.

My new neighbor Craig and I just had the first of (Lord willing) many fun jam sessions. I think we will be able to learn a lot from each other in the guitar category, and have fun in the process.

Last night Pi Silk took me to a Thai fair. There, for 75 cents I watched a seventeen year old ride a motorcycle around the vertical walls of a cylindrical tank. As he was riding around (necessarily quite fast), he swung his one leg over the bike, so that he was sitting side saddle. He then took his hands off the handlebars and spread his arms like he was flying. He several times turned himself towards the rim of the tank and turned back down just in time to avoid flying over the lip to his death. Wow.

Today I hopped on (the back of) a motorcycle to go with two friends to the park to exercise. The plan was to lift weights. The weights in the park had a sign saying that the weights were for members only. Upon inquiry this simply meant you had to call a phone number and make a donation. Nonetheless, we decided not to become members. It was about 6:00. (At 6:00 pm I think every park everywhere in this country plus a few shopping centers have aerobic dance.) We decided to attend the aerobic dance. It is hard to keep both the legs and arms doing the same thing as the leader. After 45 minutes we decided to call it a night, leaving over a hundred others to continue the ritual without us.

On the way back I was again seated behind someone on a motorcycle. We were following a guy riding solo. As we were weaving in and out of cars stopped at a red light, we had trouble keeping pace with the guy riding solo. We were a little bit bulkier. At one point my ankle clipped a parked motorcycle. The end.

Yesterday was a good day. The week had been admittedly a little rough. The sudden addition of 60 people to the building made sleep a little difficult for the first two nights. Additionally I was having a hard time feeling like I belonged. There were lots of groups of people, but none of them seemed readily penetrable, especially for someone with weak

Thai. Living alone I have not often felt lonely. This last week surrounded by people I felt very much lonely.

Yesterday, as I said, was a good day. I spent the morning talking to some of my family via Skype. In the afternoon I sat down to listen to someone I know playing guitar, and ended up spending the majority of the afternoon there. Several other people joined us. I enjoyed the time listening to music. Singing a few English songs. Talking some.

Somewhere in here I played 2 on 2 basketball.

In the evening I had an extra choir practice (to prepare for Palm Sunday).

After choir practice I joined people on the roof of the church for another few hours of guitaring. During the time on the roof I got to know a few more of the people who are in the building, and they got to know me. I think it was a significant step from foreign towards familiar.