Everyday

My alarm goes off every morning at 6:15a.m. but it isn't until I take my routine ice-shower that I actually wake up. Today, however, I got a surprise a little before that.

The curtains on my windows are a strange lime color with an ugly pattern (I don't think there's a Thai word for redecorate) and in order to "open" them, I tie them up into large, single knots. I had a couple open this morning and decided to let them down. One came undone no problem, but when I opened the second an explosion of dirt covered me, the floor, and every thing around. Still asleep, I was clueless as to what had happened and reacted very slowly. As I blinked to open up my eyes, I saw the curtain moving.

Suddenly, instead of green, the curtain seemed black. Looking closer, I realized the black wasn't dirt, it was thousands and thousands of small black ants scrambling frantically across the green fabric. I looked down and saw the floor covered as well. Only then did I feel the "dirt" on me moving and then realized I had them all over myself as well.

Evidently, I wasn't the only one surprised. The ants were making a mad dash somwhere, any where, I have no idea where, but it was ant chaos. I had wrecked their home and they were panicking. They quickly snatched up all of their eggs and began to get the hell off of my curtain. Then nearly fully awake, I quickly unhooked the curtain from the wall, threw it outside, and swept the rest of the ants out my front door. The family dogs (a large mutt and two weiner dogs) came rushing over to see what the chaos was, sniffed the ant-covered curtain, then walked away uninterested.

Though a rough way to start my morning, the ant surprise did motivate me for my morning's shower. It's chilly out here in the country in the morning and that means my water is the same chilly temperature. Every day I have to psyche myself up for my freezing shower, something I doubt I'll ever get used to. Although it's incredibly cold, I will say that I never go to school tired. My eyes jump wide open when the hard spray hits me in the face, and there's no going back to bed after that.

Arriving at school, this morning I had gate duty. That means I must stand at the front gate and greet all the students who walk or ride their motorbike in. It's a strange job, but I have to do it every Thursday nonetheless. Upon arrival to school all the students wai (hands in a prayer position then bow their head to their hands) first to the Buddha and then to me (or whatever teacher is there.) Stranger than gate duty though, whenever a student walks past a teacher on campus, they must wai them in respect. It's a strange feeling having everyone get out of your way on the sidewalk, say hello, and wai you in respect. It's a strange reinforcement of the belief that we falangs are "special" (though having done nothing to deserve being called "special" at all.) Though a cultural thing, I don't believe teachers get nearly this much respect at home.

I sweat through every day teaching, my hands and pants dusted with a heavy coat of chalk. Each class stays in their room all day while the teachers rotate amongst the classrooms. The decorations of each clasroom is very indicative of the level of the class. The most advanced, well-behaved students, classrooms take very good care of their room, decorating it carefully and cleaning it every day. The lower lever classes give no time to their room or their studies and let their room, desks, chairs, and walls fall to pieces.

Despite the level, every class begins with the students all reciting the same routine dialogue:

"Good afternoon, teacher!"
"Good afternoon students. How are you?"
"I am fine thank you, and you?"
"I'm great but I promise I'll change this routine soon. You can sit down now."
"Thank you."

And then ends with the same:

"Thank you, teacher. See you again next time. Bye!"

The cafeteria is a large open building, with many tiny kitchens from which the same old ladies cook food to order. Some make fried rice, others pad thai, some soup, some curries, some other Thai dishes they don't make in American Thai restaurants. Kids line up to order from each of the ladies and the teachers may give the students money to wait in line and order for them. I buy my own lunch every day for $0.25 and though the portions are small, my salary is ample enough that I may enjoy seconds if I wish.

When the final bell rings it doesn't take long for the students to find their ride amongst the enormous sea of motorbikes, and the mass student exodus is like some strange motorcross race. It's unbelievable how many bikes are parked at this school during the day (there are 2,500 students) and I still don't understand how they find their own bike. Though school lets out at 3:30, we are required to stay an extra half an hour. Why, I'm not sure, but what I do know is that it ensures that I sweat through every inch of my clothing, and that that half an hour is the longest of the day.

By the time 4:15 comes around, I'm already at home, my chalked teaching clothing are on a lump on the floor, and I'm enjoying the same icy cold shower that I dreaded so much earlier that morning.