Return of the 'It Boy'

Students,

I welcome you back. I did not retire or run away, much less abandon you, but chose instead to give up blogging for a bit and, given the chance, live a little. I hope you will forgive me. Being permanently based in Bangkok I’ve found an entirely different lifestyle to the previous one. Natalie has affectionately coined this the lifestyle of an ‘It Boy’. There was nothing bad about Lopburi life of course but options were severely limited to teaching, computer work, swimming/sunbathing, and watching TV with friends, grass, and a cool beverage. I was afforded much time to procrastinate with you, but was longing for something more. At the start of the year fellow teachers began to evacuate town and as teaching hours reduced I realized the job I was doing lacked purpose. So I decided to defect to the big city.

Bangkok is a wild and crazy place to call home. What struck me (and Natalie and Tara after they also came here) are the unlimited options before you. It truly is possible to do anything at any time. Making friends is easy and I am glad to say I have been spending time with many more Thai guys and girls. Of course my important relationships are still with old friends (the girls and Brad) and I try to keep our lives in synch as much as possible. It is curious to me how the people in your daily life can really make such a difference to its quality and how you feel as a person. I am endlessly grateful to Randall, Joe, Calvin, and soul brother J.W. for making the move so easy. It was a life changing action for positive reasons but, as with the whole fleeing to Thailand in the first place, it was done with little money, resources, or logical sense. I am happy to continue being near such caring people. They do not even realize that their simple acts of being around gives me so much and I like to channel the options in my free time towards them.

So what of the lifestyle? The work? The play? The boys? The ladyboys?! Upon arriving I knew that I had to take care of myself and hit on the whole healthy mind healthy body thing. I enrolled at a California Wow gym little knowing that this was to be one of the single gayest places visited in my life so far. I mean I’ve been to my share of gay bars and clubs, hell I’ve even been to sex shows, saunas (a naked party!), and an underground dungeon (purely for research purposes), but none of these quite compare to the weight room at Wow. There is rarely a woman to be seen, instead you see row after row of gods with glorious virile bods. There are young guys, old guys, tall guys, small guys, guys who are ripped and guys who are lean, guys who are beefy and guys who are cute. They all flex and lunge and cruise and peruse and when they’re done improving themselves they head out to shower and steam. Wow indeed. I of course follow and, not being known for modesty, occasionally partake in peek-a-boo antics with the horny few. But why so gay? Even before you step in from the street you can hear the thumpa thumpa of the dance music that we all know so well. Along with a personal trainer whom seems determined to hook me up with other clients, I think I may have discovered one of my queer nirvanas…

…The other one being the local club. In addition to aiming for physical perfection and continued mental balance it was also my desire as an explorer to break the enforced celibacy of former dwellings. It is an understatement to say that Lopburi did not offer much in the way of male attention. When it did, our group tended to find said males were… shall we say... not too mentally ‘together’ (further details in previous posts.) In Bangkok it’s pleasingly clear that my blonde-haired blue-eyed look is more in fashion.

I have often looked in the mirror and despaired as it seems to me that constant upkeep and repair are needed to keep the foundations from crumbling. Some lucky buggers have the fortune to roll out of bed each morning and be naturally pristine. This is not the case with me. I unfortunately am naturally lazy and having a cabinet filled with products is really not my thing. However, I can tell you that my modus operandi has always been to walk into aforementioned guy bars with an ‘I look a million pounds’ attitude. Now this should not be confused with arrogance. Plenty of gays put on their labels and strut around affectedly among the poor peasants they see without their own custom Prada. What I mean is if you have confidence that you are you and that ‘you’ is pretty bloody good then you will automatically emanate an attractiveness that can’t be bought; you will be 'It'. You know? I know that attitude is what ensures attention among the crowd and that is no different here than it was in England.

.

It must be said that the number one reason (ok number two reason) I go out is to dance. I love following the music and letting loose. When I dance I do so with abandon. At its best this means that I am totally present in the now, following the beat with a big grin across my face. When I have my friends around me it is even better. If I could highlight an experience from my new life here it would be the dancing. I do it often and a lot and it regularly leads to 'A' number one favourite thing… For the ‘It Boy’ in me it all starts and ends with the dancing.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Bang cock (That one was too easy, right?!)

x Teacher

Post XII - Listen up! Speak up!

Students,

It is my intention in this post to stay well away from any negative thinking or the type of ranting that I can sometimes be guilty of. Actually I am going to make a concerted effort in all areas of my life to see the best side of everything and stay calm and awake to what comes my way. The best way I can think to do this is to continue taking opportunities for stillness and quiet time and in doing so turn off the soundtrack of that voice in my head when it’s not needed. There shall be no judging or blaming or avoidance. In addition I am going to read as much literature as possible on human spirituality and the psychology of our relationships. Often the messages in these books are obvious, but right now I am finding it helpful to draw from them and apply the techniques for myself.

One point that I have become very aware of and that is bothering me is a general state I can see in a lot of people. In fact it’s really a problem but as it’s so ingrained I think you might describe it better as a state. This is not listening. Being a teacher I always saw myself as quite a good listener but recently I began to think have I been guilty of this as well?

Last week I discovered that a very good friend had feelings of more than friendship for me and had done for some time. As I did not and do not feel the same way my first reaction was to feel awful about this and to think back over the months we had spent together. Why had I not picked up on this before? Had I hurt them by not listening to them and realizing how they felt? Had I hurt them by any blunt things I’d said at the time I didn’t realize? These questions bothered me. Until that is they continued to harbour resentment for what I believe they saw as my abandonment of them for a better life. That’s when I realized that I was not entirely guilty, and they should have listened to me as I’d spoken of my feelings on relationships, how committed relationships were not for me right now, how I’d enjoyed casual experiences with guys and longed to do so again. I’d also spoken often of my desire to live somewhere new, have money for once, and teach the way I wanted. In short I had spoken my truth over and over and they had not listened.

…However that is in the past and if it needs to be forgiven it is. After all if he was truly in love with me I can understand that he may have read into my actions rather than my words or else heard only what he wanted to hear. But, what is now becoming unforgivable is that after talking to this person openly in a bid to resolve tensions, they continue to not want to hold conversations with me and so not listen. Specifically I can tell that they refuse to ask any questions about my life possibly for fear that my vast Ego will shower them with details of sex and guys they dislike. It bothers me that though I know they’d like a friendship with me they still judge and feel resentful and don’t trust that I can talk to them in a sensitive way that considers their feelings. If they do not want to listen and talk and the best they can do is send text messages after drinking then it seems to me the friendship is over. That’s harsh because I’d love nothing more than for us to return to the type of closeness and support we had for each other, and I know they are a good person, but I am not a bad person and I certainly won’t be made to feel that I am for the choices that are mine to make. At least I know I tried and I know that he should have tried from the start to speak not from his mind but with his feelings. Nevertheless we all learn in one way or another, and it’s just unfortunate that it is usually through experiencing pain.

It happens that away from drama in Lopburi I’ve attended a few interviews in Bangkok this week and in all but one case I found that the interviewer began by not listening to me. Now this is nowhere near the level of rudeness I experienced at a previous interview I told you about, and it doesn’t cause me to feel I should rant and rave (more), but why bother inviting someone to meet you if you are going to dominate the conversation? In all cases I had to wait patiently before finally getting the chance to put forward some of my ideas and teaching philosophies and in all cases the interview ended with me being offered work.* Why was this? I think because I listened. I looked the interviewer in the eyes and I followed what they were saying. I was present in the moment and when I got to speak I did so with feeling. This was different to what they were blabbing about which in all but one case was a lot of facts and figures I already knew through reading their web page and so really had no further need to be told. I think I surprised the people I was talking to with what I did know, what I thought, and the questions I had for them. If only they’d began by allowing for a 50-50 approach and given me a minute at the start to speak while they listened then maybe they could have spared themselves a lengthy and redundant monologue!!

To me the ability to listen is a great gift to another person. It shows you care and respect who they are. To listen well is to clear your head of schedules, lists, and preconceived judgments of that person, stop what you’re doing, and so be with them. It is insulting to have dinner with someone who is attached to their mobile phone or is simply waiting until you stop speaking to then play their part of nodding in agreement before changing the subject or talking about themselves. EVERYONE knows this and EVERYONE is bothered by it.

“Listen up! Speak up!” That’s what my parents say to me and that’s what I say to them. It means that we hear each other even when far away and on the phone. I do not choose to have people as my friends who are ‘absent’ when I talk to them or who (deep breath)… Cause me to speak very QUICKLY so I get my point across so they hear me before they lose interest and I can see they have drifted off into their headspace and their own problems. More people need to tune in to those around them and remain vigilant with themselves that they are always doing this. In addition we should all listen to what our feelings – our true nature – have to say as opposed to the nagging and destructive problem-maker of our thinking minds or, God forbid, those who tell us what to do because they think they know better… With regard to governing people who in their work really should be listening to those they represent and in doing so look past their own narrow mindedness, I believe they have the most to fear from eventual self-destruction.

* Further information about which job I chose will follow… When I choose.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Listen to the sound of silence.

x Teacher

Social Update - Awakening

Students,

· A time to change. Quite a lot has happened in the last couple of weeks since my hiatus from full-time teaching. I had been so entrenched in the mindset of teaching in Lopburi that I'd come to forget that here I was in a country so diverse, full of character, and with a wealth of new experiences on offer and waiting to be lived. Instead my worldview had narrowed to a series of daily inconveniences that became my life – Why was the humidity so stifling? Why were Thai people watching my every move? What could I do with my time now it was the holidays? And how could I fight the flab I was putting on from a stationery lifestyle spent watching TV and drinking? What helped me through these inconveniences were the friends I had come to count on and the jokes we shared together. But things change. People change and they move on and now it’s time for me to do that. I want to have choice, I want to put myself into situations that are not risk-free and require me to be present in the moment and learn through doing. Most of all I want to teach the way I want because when work is good I love to work.

I came to fully realize the things that I wanted in life with my first holiday from Lopburi in some months. I went to Bangkok and immediately began to feel the kind of life that comes in a city, the movement, energy, possibilities. Without considering it I stopped the endless thinking and analyzing that had become my natural anxious state and I just embraced it. I had time and I had space. There were no appointments for me to dash to and I had a few hours before meeting friends. I decided to wander, to explore, and most importantly I decided that smiling and saying “Yes” to the world was not so difficult after all. I followed my instincts and I heard myself in a very true sense.

My instincts (and my belly) ended up leading me to sit, eat some food and drink some saki in a Japanese restaurant. I sat quietly and watched the awkward social dance between an aging foreigner and a good-natured Thai lady he was romancing… I saw two friends laughing as they fed each other California rolls… I observed a young gay couple so comfortable with each other they forgot to speak as they sat together and ate… Where before that day my mind would probably have supplied me with twinges of loneliness, right there and then I thought ‘I’m 25 and can do anything with my life. Enjoy yourself and enjoy this moment.’ And I did. In fact I walked away feeling positive and less tensed up than I’ve been in a long long while. The weekend opened up before me and has since turned into a fantastic couple of weeks that continues to be full of interesting new people, places, and memories. I put these results down to acceptance and open-mindedness. They have given me a relaxed happiness and optimism. My time to change crept up on me and now seems so obvious, but simply letting things be is how I will operate when I move to live in Bangkok next week.

· Laughing with ladyboys. A most wonderful new set of friendships came to me during my time in Bangkok. It happened quite by happy accident but I’m very grateful. After spending a lazy Sunday with my long-term foreigner mate Lee whereupon we caught up doing some of our favourite things – visiting the cinema, people-watching over ice-cream, and eating each other’s McDonald’s meals, I realized I was far too late to catch the bus back to Lopburi. I decided to ‘live in the moment’ so took off to the Silom gay district and booked into a very swanky hotel. As yet-another election alcohol curfew was ending that night I decided to celebrate with two of my favourite things – Jack Daniels and dancing at DJ Station (helpfully located next door to the hotel.) I had partied there with Thai friends – and without the aid of liquor – perfectly well the night before but as I was flying solo that Sunday I drank down some Dutch courage. I’m glad I did for I ended up meeting Mac, an interesting and very sexy Thai guy who lives between London and Bangkok and works as a fashion stylist. We spent a great couple of days together before I had to leave, but he invited me back to spend more time with his friends and to go dancing again…

When I excitedly returned for our night out (beginning with drinks at a rooftop beach bar) I got to spend a lot more time talking with Mac’s friends Kitty and Rita. They are post-op ladyboys (now technically ladies) and they are quite fabulously unlike other friends I’ve had before. In the following days I spent with them around the city and in their apartment I began to appreciate their self-assurance, kindness and generosity, and ability to laugh at themselves and the world around them.

To come to the realization that you were born as female in a male body and then go against society (even in Thailand) to be truthful to yourself and your family and live as who you are I think is fantastically brave. I highly respect Kitty and Rita and am bowled over by the forcefulness of their personalities. They are both very successful in their fashion careers and this is evidenced as they strut past queuing customers waiting in line for the most expensive clubs and are handed drink vouchers at the bar. But I am most thankful for how they welcomed me into their lives and have made me laugh time and time again (one day I laughed so uncontrollably on the sky train that other passengers looked at me worriedly as if I might be having a seizure.) When I move to Bangkok as planned (and as they helped me to decide I should do) I have arranged to live in the same apartment complex as the ladies. While interesting and sexy guys may come and go (pun intended), it is not often that you feel that some friendships are too important to lose... Very Carrie Bradshaw, right?

· Catty. I have mentioned here before the cat pe(s)t that it came to pass I should live with in Lopburi. I realize that I was somewhat disparaging in my assessment of her. The reason is that I am not a ‘cat person.’ Or I did not think I was. However on my return from Bangkok I found that a new addition to the Pleasuredome household had arrived with Brad’s second pet cat whom had been presumed lost. Having heard some bad things about the animal I cannot say I was enamoured with him from the start but now that seems to have changed and I like this one (named Paul) a whole lot more than the other. Let me explain why. Paul is a carefree soul who enjoys exploring his area and remaining on the move. Paul is very affectionate and always interested in where you are and what you are doing. He is happy to lie for a long time on your bed and keep you company. Paul always speaks his mind. If he follows you into the bathroom and you lock the door he will sit and loudly purr his displeasure at this. Similarly if he wants to come into your room and you close the door behind you he will remain unimpressed. However if you allow Paul inside yet leave the door open so he has the choice to leave, he will happily purr his appreciation of your thoughtfulness and then rub himself against your leg.

All of this has made me put aside my prior judgment of the feline species and instead observe the lessons they can teach. A cat can be blissfully happy doing almost nothing. If it is wronged it will not harbour a grudge for very long and will try to make amends by showing physical affection. It does not appear to be in a cat’s nature to feel sad or bemoan their lot in life, and it’s my theory that if they should show signs of this it is most likely to be caused by the negative energy of the humans around them. I am privileged to have been given some lessons in life by a cat. I just could never be in a committed relationship with one.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Chase your tail.

x Teacher

Post XI - Leap of Faith

Students,

Did you know that February 29th represents a ‘Leap day?’ Leap Years were added to the modern calendar to keep it in alignment with the earth’s revolutions around the sun. 2008 has 366 days which means that today is one extra day given back... Sucks for people who were born on a ‘Leap day’ as their birthday only rolls around once in a while. But what it means for the rest of us is that we are gifted a day. Makes me think something special is needed.

So far today I have not achieved very much. I was up late last night marking exam papers and this distracted me so much that for the first time since I entered The Pleasuredome a couple of weeks ago I was left to face the prospect of sleeping on THAT BED without the aid of alcoholic intoxication. The only remedy I could find to knock myself out (and also knock one out in the process) was to reach for some Sangsom and relive the raunch of the Mexican film Y tu mamá también with the delightful Gael García Bernal. When I awoke (and after clicking my spine back into place) I left and have made it so far as blogging with you. Plan was to head to Bangkok today for some r‘n’r but at some point I MUST sit down and complete my student grades. Teaching is thrilling sometimes, y’know? Thanks kids.

So now that I will be off to BKK tomorrow that leaves me in Lopburi with time on my hands and superstition on my mind. What can be done here that hasn’t be done before? Instead of making a major commitment to doing something, I am going to make a minor commitment to doing pretty much nothing. Pretty much. Rather than look at the big picture I will go small and have faith that I can fill my day with random notions requiring little effort and that make even littler sense…

…One thing I am often told is that I should smile more. Of course I live in ‘the land of smiles’ but actually smiling is quite a tricky thing to maintain when there isn’t necessarily anything to smile about. Not smiling here is frowned upon, yet lately my daily duties have been filled with tedious end-of-semester paperwork so I have not been as inclined to giggle along with the gays in my office. That will change this ‘Leap day.’ I will commit to walking home with a grin plastered across my face. I’m sure this will interest passers-by and the sellers on their food carts. Thus I will find out if smiling really does make a difference.

Another matter raising my attention lately is that I am unable to say “No.” That’s right students, as you know I am a giver but sometimes I find myself in compromising positions (read: sticky situations) because I cannot bring myself to refuse. I tell you “Yes! Yes! Yes!” is sometimes not the best answer. It can lead to terrible incidents such as detainment on long bus journeys, being forced into singing If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands to a packed auditorium of Thai students, or even (more concerningly) being videoed grinding one’s hips with a female student after being coerced into a dance routine… Yeech! Memories of Loei be gone. (BTW it is a mystery why these videos of farang never seem to turn-up even after repeated questioning… There is still one somewhere showing me in drag and on-stage shaking it as Beyoncé at a school English camp.) ANYWAY today I intend to remain non-committal, but given the ‘Leap’ I will change my response to any questions that come my way. “Maybe (baby)” is to be the final answer.

And now to Id / Ego / Superego for suggestions on how Teacher’s (precious) time woulda coulda shoulda be occupied…

Id: Honey it’s so sunny let’s do somethin’ funny. Stare up at the sun for a mo, blink wildly for a mo, and then close eyes tight to witness a variety of (exciting) blobs, stars, and flashes. ‘Leap’ time of approximately 2 minutes can then be spent making out shapes and wondering is mo’s Subconscious speaking?? Or is it just that lezzie Ego again….

Ego: As a lady of certain persuasion I can do irrational on occasion. It’s all about the mind, and the powers of the Psychosis could do with a work-out. My ‘Leap’ suggestion is to use that secret power of yours. Let’s focus on someone near – say the cute Thai guy giving his right hand a work-out over video games – and silently mind probe him into doing your bidding. Start small, maybe willing him to bend over… Where there’s a will there’s a way, right? Then it can be taken further with another kind of probing to satisfy Id. The law of averages dictates that sooner or later a mind command will come true (even if it is only that said guy turns to see a farang staring intensely and with cross-eyes) so keep faith and stay with the cause! ‘Leap’ time of approximately 5 minutes on offer here.

Superego: As you know I swing both ways so I offer a different perspective that requires a second helper. Think about it: you are a tall guy and this gives rise to much opportunity. Some are less fortunate. Be a giver this ‘Leap day.’ How about returning to The Pleasuredome, locating the cat pe(s)t and allowing It to see things from your point of view. Instead of Its usual 2' high sight, pick It up and give It a look at the world from your angle. Then reverse and take a look down there with It. Be a man, follow the pussy. ‘Leap’ time of approx. 10 minutes means I’m the winner!

So students, I have offered a whole heap of Leap possibilities for myself. How will you pleasure yourself today?

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Sleep for ‘Leap.’

x Teacher

Picture Post - 'Bloomin' lovely.'

Students,

I bring you another exciting Picture Post, this one of a delightfully gay Sunday. Lady T and I accompanied some Thai friends into the local wilderness and the Lopburi sunflower fields. We communed with nature for a while and even found a giant sunflower to stick our heads through! We then took off and spent the evening at a Japanese fair. As you can see a super day was had by all.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Lie down in your (flower) bed.

x Teacher

Post IX - I Have Never

Students,

I find myself at the semi-regular (for me) junction in life where one wonders what to do next. There are of course many many opportunities for a semi-employable chap such as myself, but like Julia Roberts discovered in My Best Friend’s Wedding, reaching the 25+ wilderness of life requires one to take action and take back what you want. Unlike Julia Roberts (and her crazy nest of hair) I prefer to take action in matters of career not heart, and I find this leaves me devoid of psychotic bitch tendencies and/or the likelihood of making Cameron Diaz cry. Besides, why would anyone stalk that pouty ex of hers (and fiancé of Cameron) when she already has Rupert Everett on speed dial??? Priorities Julia. But I digress. In pondering what path to travel next I really have two options: stay in Lopburi and in the Pleasuredome (see previous post) or take my chances – and try again for another job – in Bangkok (see previous post.) I’m not sure at this point if I quite have the strength to return to the city and face more rudeness, so instead of being pro-active I will spend some time talking out of my navel with you dear students.

As mentioned I regrettably have reached the quarter century mark and this may (or may not) have launched me into my current series of existential episodes. One wonders what dreams are meant to be followed in the short time left…How one’s words and deeds can be assured of living on as time approaches one’s eventual extinction (especially as in my case no little junior’s will be left behind…) It seems apt then to save for posterity what has gone before. So I would like to introduce a psychoanalytical technique known colloquially as ‘I Have Never.’ Simply put all that is required is that the speaker (in this case Teacher) detail past deeds they have survived and then the captive audience (in this case Students) down a short of liquor if they have ever done the deed. At this point I authorize you to pull out your hip flask and pull out your moves. Work that drinking arm and exercise that trick jaw.

20 ‘I Have Never’s (in no particular order):

♂ Dated a millionaire. ♂ Trashed a hotel room like a rock star. Then bolted. ♂ Got the Romantic notion to run away from home on the back of a horse. ♂ Been stalked. ♂ Been a stalker. ♂ Done the kamikaze slide at a water park. ♂ Got a tattoo. ♂ Cooked and eaten haggis. ♂ Worked as PA to magician Paul Daniels (the glamour!) ♂ Been very naked in a very public place. ♂ Been robbed by a monkey. ♂ Drunkenly informed a (former) friend’s concerned mother that I had ‘A’ in her house. ♂ Been told off by police for ‘lewd’ behaviour. ♂ Ran for my city and swam for my county. ♂ Walked (almost) every trail and fell in the English Lake District. ♂ Survived a high(ish)-speed car crash (not my fault, either.) ♂ Caused a foreign tourist in my care to vomit out of terror. ♂ Broken someone’s heart x2. ♂ Stripped on-stage. ♂ Been so starved of money I starved myself and ate nothing but jam and pickles for two days.

Now all I have to do is pass some more time by thinking of things to do before I die... Students, I think I should confiscate that alcohol. It’s for the best.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Sober up.

x Teacher

Post-It Note - Some words to accompany the job that you can stick up your arse

Students,

I would never endorse the action known as ‘selling out.’ If I wanted to do a job just for the money I can think of some much nobler pursuits to put my body and mind to work on than teaching. But lately the lure of more money has joined the lure of moving on, traveling somewhere new, and/or living in a more metropolitan locale as debating points of Id / Ego / Superego. Of course in most ways and for most of the time I am perfectly happy and settled where I am. I intend to change my job for next semester as the university has proven rather demanding of my time and reserves of patience, especially after what I would conservatively call a ‘challenging’ trip to Loei the other week (even though I did get to do some theatre directing amid my duller duties.) I could remain here in Lopburi and build on what I’ve got. Or I could take a chance and explore somewhere new. These are the types of questions that vex Teacher daily when without more intimate ways to pass the time, and in a bid to avoid the heat stroke. Life is tough y’all...

ANYWAY I applied for several jobs last week before ruling out most of them as impractical. But one job based in Bangkok made me begin to wonder. The salary was good, it sounded central so the sky train could be a travel possibility, it was a language school so I could teach the same students regularly, and the weekday hours began from mid-afternoon so the famed Bangkok nightlife could be appreciated (only on occasion of course.) And living in the city might be a break from the limitations found living in the (almost) countryside. Could this all be too good to be true? The short answer is yes. Before knowing this however I accepted the invitation to visit for interview…

At this point I must tell you that though in this blog I occasionally seem… narked (English: as irritating as celibacy) in polite company I am usually a joy and a delight. Never do I moan or complain; always I choose perfect politeness, diction, and chivalry to camouflage any fleeting annoyances. Well. Almost always. But the two things that threaten to send this picture of calm into meltdown are impoliteness and others being disrespectful. It is not because I consider myself better or more worthy of respect than others, but I seriously think it is a basic human right of all to enjoy being spoken to with thought and a following of proper social codes. When this (infrequently) does not happen for me (particularly when I am obeying the rules myself) is when I have to make sure that person is ‘told.’

I’m sad to say that this whole problem arose with the interviewer I had the displeasure of meeting in Bangkok – sorry Bangna – an area of the city that could at best be described as an industrial park miles from anywhere and at worst as a littered concrete jungle. That I had been required to wake up and travel at some ungodly time (with a hangover) possibly played into my perception of events, but really there was no excuse for the rudeness I encountered during questioning for a job I quickly discovered I had no interest in. Students you might see the following e-mail that I sent post-interview as a little ‘sharp’ and believe me that is the intention. Take this either as a warning or as a call to arms on the war against w*nkers who think they know better. They never do.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Pick up your poison pen and get scribbling.

x Teacher

Garry,

Following my interview today I would like to withdraw from your consideration for a teaching post with English For All. I got the impression that I am not the type of teacher you are looking for anyway, but I must say I found your approach both presumptuous and rude. I would expect the type of pointed closed questioning you used in an interview for a job in recruitment or some other high-powered role, but for what I could see as a modest language school I just found it totally unnecessary.

Maybe being in the 'land of smiles' has made me forget that employers can be so unreasonable. I don't mean to be insulting but you no doubt saw how I very quickly lost all interest in putting myself across favourably or asking any questions. Believe me, I am a committed teacher - I consider teaching as my career and am keen to develop my skills. But I was a bit affronted when you insinuated that I had little experience - I would not call training in two English comprehensives, being the first foreigner to teach staff and students in a rural Thai middle school, or lecturing to EFL students in majors covering reading and writing structures, communicative English, and psychology as little experience. That is not to mention my commitment to evening classes in the local language school, leading workshops for tourist police, and managing extra-curricular drama classes.

I very much enjoy teaching work and am comfortable in what I do. I like to work hard and am rigorous in my planning and preparation. Unfortunately it seemed to me you were more concerned about picking holes in my experience than asking me questions about my teaching philosophy or classroom manner. I had a file of resources, lesson plans, and student work I would have been happy to show you if you had. I hope that you find the right candidate for the role, but I would seriously suggest you reconsider your managerial style.

P.

Post-It Note - Social Update

Students,

As January ends and the long cold winter months continue (or hot and sticky and sweat-inducing months as my case may be) I feel it apt to briefly detail my comings and goings in/around the year so far with a mini(ish!) post. You will see I am labeling these as ‘Post-It Note’s’. They should hopefully go some way to satisfy your urges for Teacher’s (pillow) talk in-between usual posts and also satisfy (read: ward-off) potential psycho-stalkers. Because we don’t need anymore of them, do we? Seems I already find myself unwittingly placed in the crosshairs whenever I venture into Lopburi with my irresistible foreign companions… but that’s another matter for another blog. What I’m really saying is come here often dear students for you will find regular stimulation on this page.

· Working 9 to 5 (what a way to make a living.) All’s (s)well with my university teaching as the semester rushes to its end. No sooner had Christmas and New Year been and gone than Chinese New Year and the final exams are almost upon us. I teach six English major subjects at the local university in Reading, Writing, Creative Writing, Speaking, Hotel English, and Human Behaviour and Self-Development (read: psychology.) I enjoy the teaching immensely and the students are excellent at English (two girls are even attempting to teach me Thai!) but there is an odd paradigm when compared with my previous work teaching younger kids. Where with that I was doing conversational English to classes of 40+ five times a day and so leaving exhausted after using A LOT of energy for classroom teaching, at the university I have smaller classes but the lessons must be more involved and carefully structured in order to work. I spend A LOT of time in preparation for each two and a half hour class of the six majors. Then I have to mark homework. The teaching is the easy bit. There was an opportunity on the horizon for next semester beginning June that could have taken me back to my former school. If they decide on an agreeable salary for me I may be back there with the kids and old cronies again. If the money is right. Some might call this selling out; I call it working one’s way up to be the top. And that’s always my preferred position. As ever I will keep you posted.
· Settling down. It is almost official: Brad and I are moving in together along with Natalie. We haven’t named the date yet but house-hunting is beginning this Saturday. My (unofficial) husband and I have been living in sin for a little while now and sinners do need to stick together. Sadly in Thailand we cannot leaf through the housing pages to find the perfect shack to shack up in so we must accompany a Thai teacher around the town in search of our manse… We plan to do this while decorated in white khakis/leather trousers, pink berets, and pullovers draped over the shoulders or tied loosely around the waist. To this end we have also been practicing our flouncing and over-enthusiastic hand gesturing. It has already been decided that ‘The Pleasuredome’ (as Natalie calls it) will require a garden/yard/balcony, a guest room/sauna room/back room, a collection of kitsch dog statues, and adequate security (intercom/moat/razor wire) to deter the increasingly ardent psycho-stalkers that, as mentioned earlier, our group tends to inspire (“I love pig.”)
· The case of the ‘Single White Female.’ Unfortunately I find it my duty to make a public service announcement. The bizarrely aggressive behaviour of several Thai males appears to have rubbed off on one of ‘us.’ Said lady has taken to attempts to hoard to herself any gay men (well, let’s face it any men) that she comes into contact with. ‘Single White Female’ will attack with questions on the whereabouts of her prey and demand to know why they did not first think to call and inform her if they were I dunno, venturing to the loo or some such activity… The slightly shall we say ‘unimpressed’ undercurrent of tone to this note is owing to her perpetrating a quite unforgivable transgression on your innocent Teacher: only marginally worse than ‘cock-teasing’ is ‘cock-blocking.’ Allow me to explain. On a recent visit to her workplace Teacher was struck by an attractive Thai gent of similar persuasion to he. In accordance, flirty banter was exchanged before ‘SWF’ unceremoniously (and quite deliberately) lodged her butt and her breasts in the way so that the pretty gay men would be kept safely as her own. It is in the interests of local health and wellbeing that – like a volatile chemical – ‘SWF’ be handled very carefully and preferably held at a safe distance lest she spontaneously combust (or miraculously mutate and develop a more likeable personality.)
· Out and about. In the aforementioned Human Behaviour and Self-Development (read: psychology) class this week our topic was ‘Sexuality.’ I had been delaying coverage of this particular topic for some time and had even brought forward the class on ‘Christianity’ as avoidance (!). However it could be avoided no longer. So as to initiate a less academic and more personal discussion, I thought it best to ‘out’ myself to the ten girls of the class and then they could get answers on any gay-related questions they had ‘from the horse’s mouth’ so to speak. This ‘outing’ was my first in some time and I think was largely successful, though it must be said that exclamations of “A lie wa?” (English: “What the f*ck?”) were heard from most of the girls for some minutes after my announcement. Among the (invited) questions they asked me were “Teacher, because of God are you going to Hell?”, “Have you ever sexed a ladyboy?”, and “What is a gay king and queen?” This latter question, which I suspect was posed to make me squirm (more) I found could only be answered by pointing the index finger of my right hand, forming a ‘hole’ shape with the thumb and forefinger of my left, and stabbing the ‘king’ into the hole of the ‘queen’. Sometimes I think that for a youth that enjoys so much sex, young Thais seem not to know all that much. For example who didn’t know that Ricky Martin was gay??!! Next week I will be accompanying a group including that same class of students on a field trip to a town in Northern Thailand. I can’t seem to pronounce the name of this town to the Thais approval, much less write it, but I would guess it’s spelling to be something like Loei. Thankfully I have been granted a single hotel room separate from the two gay teachers who seemed so oddly eager to bunk with me, and perhaps the trip will allow my students to properly carry-out the homework from their ‘Sexuality’ class: find Teacher a boyfriend. Kidding… (Half kidding.)
· Hello? Is anybody there? Friends are like bats. Sometimes you see them flying at you and can choose whether to continue and deal with them or duck for cover and hide. Sometimes you only notice them when they smack right into you, attach themselves with their sticky wings, and then have to be forcibly extricated from your person. They also have a tendency to only come out at night, hang upside down, and occasionally, turn nasty and try to suck blood from your jugular. In most cases though they are still around but you don’t hear from them for ages until an outbreak seems to occur and you can’t even go to 7/11 without being plagued by them. Students, the point is that one’s faithful friends appear to have gone into hiding somewhere and it is time to raise my voice to a few notables in order that their sensory hearing might pick me up and get back to me:

Steve – Thank you for your e-mail but tell me more about your theatre world in the ‘burgh.
Rosie – I miss your Grace Adler stylings and long for another night in Soho partying with Matt’s sticky dildo.
Zoé – Sorry I was basically asleep when you called. Nevertheless I find the Supernatural date tremendously exciting and demand to be the first person called on your return from LA.
Ria – I hope you are enjoying London. I hear it's pretty Welsh?
Tamsin – I hope you are not having any ‘mental episode’s’ without your teaching partner at your side. And what are you ‘expecting’?

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket... Supoib.

x Teacher

Post VIII - A Bitter Pill. Swallow!!

Students,

Bitter is a word with a few meanings, my favourite being the cool alcoholic beverage I am too geographically far away from to consume. It also has the meaning ‘to leave a bad taste in one’s mouth.’ Unfortunately today that is what Teacher has in his mouth and it is not something I am able to swallow down (though as I’m British I will not spit either.) A warning: you may guess that there is a storm brewing and you’d be right. If you do not wish to spend the next few minutes hearing thinly-veiled attacks on everything and everyone around, you may wish to excuse yourself, pop an apple on my desk, and return later……….. Ok? You choose to stay? Good. I assume that means you enjoy a good bitch-fest as much as any radical lesbian or muff-diving Christian.

I would like to tell you that the world I see around me is full of rainbows, smiling gay faces, and that daily I am up to my elbows in ‘A’. However that unfortunately is not the case. I, like you, have to deal with a range of unpleasant chores of life such as paying bills, marking students work (maybe you don’t have to do that you lucky buggers), and bugging the zoned-out staff in my hotel home to FINALLY do something about properly fixing my internet connection. If any of you can inform me whom I have to shag to sort out that problem then you also will be considered for ‘A’ from me… I am unsure if it is due to my former employer (read: prancing git) passing my evening classes to another teacher whom he considered to be worse off financially so leaving me with more time on my hands and less cash to flash or if I’m simply feeling some January blues. Either way I am sure that my patience is eroded and my frown lines are deepening…

Now I know it’s not in my nature to have a completely worry-free outlook and as my wise mother tells me “Boyo you are intolerant”, but I just wish sometimes that I could be a bit more ‘zen’ than I find myself able to be and not quite so inward thinking… Are you listening Id/Ego/Superego?? I am in the ‘land of smiles’ and at the moment all I do is bitch and get confrontational with those who cross me. I don’t want to look back in a few years and say “Oh Britney was I an obsessive nut job or what?” Thing is I’m sure personal friends wouldn’t suspect I was such a negative person but often when I’m on my own I think negatively and can’t just let things be… And that’s when I start to blog and you lucky students get to listen to my rant!

Sooooooo in an effort to feng shui my subconscious (read: offload), in our blog today I will allow Id/Ego/Superego to each choose one matter to give their two pence on and then said matters shall not be discussed again. (Former yellow-woggled leader of) Scout's honour. Oh and Id has been too vocal lately so he only gets one pence:

Id: Head in bed only this week, honey. No ‘A’. So… No point in beating yourself (too much.) But(t) you gotta get some juice into your (love) machine. Go get into another tight spot and find some thrust for your life. Fill your nights with play and your mornings with lay. Roll in the hay and continue being gay gay GAY!!

Ego: Students by now you should know this mo aint no goodie goodie and he aint no racialist neither. Everyone is equal and everyone (occasionally) deserves short shrift and spankies as much as they deserve praise and tongue-kissing. What I’m going to talk about then is a point concerning simple Thai folks. I do not mean to generalize and I love this country. No offence is intended (Id: “Even from a dyke’s mouth”) and none is taken, but observations must be made.

The Thai way is one where everything must be kept happy and smiley and tradition is very important. Sounds peachy, right? Yes it is until you want to do something but can’t ‘just because.’ The ‘just because’ in question is often that someone high up does not agree with it. Now as much as I love my Queen I do not think she is a deity. She is a human being who must blow her nose, visit the loo, and deal with unpleasant people just as I do. She is not above questioning and I have the right, should I wish, to suggest she is not a good Queen (which I wouldn’t because I like her, Edward on the other hand…) So if I am instructed that I must wear black for 100 days during working hours and stay in and not have a social drink on Saturday night because an 85 year-old woman of royal connection died of natural causes then have I not the right to say “That sir is dumb”? Apparently not or I will be court-martialled (And these minor points are completely the tip of the proverbial iceberg.) What makes it worse is everyone pretending to care when they actually (in Lopburi anyway) ‘couldn’t give a monkeys.’

The Thais usually have a disturbingly casual approach to hearing of death: they shrug off that a teenager was mowed down by a bus but for an 85 year old woman with a privileged life they put up a big show of sorrow. This is all about keeping face socially and never actually saying what’s on your mind. Ever. And it begins to grate. I’ll wear the black (it’s at least preferable to yellow) because this isn’t a question of respect (for which I am happy to oblige); it’s a question of being an individual with a mind that is your own. If Thai people wish to move on and change their country for the better they really should quit thinking others are better than them, quit gossiping quite so much, and form an opinion based on the facts at hand. Doing otherwise is, in my opinion, infantile and counter-productive.

BTW it is never a bad thing when Thai men make me their king… Toodles!

Superego: I gotta try and impose some decency while dealing with a whole lot of wants from brother Id. All his wants can comfortably fit into three categories: men, food, and drink. There is one place to visit to satisfy these and that place is 7/11; a grocery store chain found in every township. Sadly, as the chain is American it is hopelessly stuffed with gross junk food (and its Thai influence means any and all snacks usually contain some kind of fish flavouring.) However these points are not the only downsides as I will explain later.

I go to 7/11 daily for items such as green tea, iced coffee, water, soda water, liquor, ham & cheese toasted sandwiches, noodles, razors, gum, phone credit, and the occasional pack of cigarettes. It’s proximity to the market makes it a perfect place to spot hot Thai guys in their natural habitat. As has been mentioned in a former post, I was also picked-up by a Tarzan look-alike there (FYI I did not allow him to make me his Queen Jane…) so 7/11 is handy all-round. However. Being a convenience store I’m sorry to report that it is often far from convenient.

As you know I swing both ways and am a chap able in dealing with problems of right and wrong. To help improve my mood (and halt Id’s desire for problem-solving through violence) when I next go there to be serviced (pun intended), I have authored the following brief open letter to 7/11. I hope that should they pop by and read this, the Thai operation will make some changes (or make some sackings.) Be a man, give their hides a tan.

From the pen of: Teacher
To: Kind Yanks
Date: I don’t do dates

Dear sirs and madams,

I feel compelled to point out some problems with service in your Thai stores. This is largely to do with customers who clearly feel polite social codes do not apply to them, but also is in part down to employees not being on the ball. Please attend closely the following points for having worked as a retail lackey over several years I know a thing or two. And it will be me who gets others blood on your store’s produce if things don’t change.

· If I am waiting patiently in line with my goods please could your staff not serve the first person who comes dashing in from the street to pay a bill, thus rendering me invisible? Not only does this snap my patience like one might saucily snap a cheeky lover’s knicker elastic, but it also sadly means I will be waiting a whole lot longer since the customer will typically have not just one bill but three or four they have saved to pay together. This of course is easy for them but it makes me want to make things even easier by ensuring they never have to pay another bill again. Instead they can rest in a baseball bat-induced coma after I’ve taken their rudeness to suggest they would like to be rendered a vegetable. Please may your staff assist me in telling these folk the Thai equivalent of “Back. It. Up.” The employee would not be considered rude. They would be providing a humanitarian service.
· I cannot speak fluent Thai and your employees cannot speak fluent English. We are therefore equally matched and must interpret each other through the few words we know of each other’s language. All I ask for are “Sangsom” (liquor of choice), “True Move ha-sib” (phone credit of fifty baht), “Sandwich ham cheese”, and “Tylenol” (drugs required after the headache that oddly seems to hit as soon as I begin queuing.) Since I use the Thai verbal tones and often also point or perform charades to demonstrate what I want, I do not understand the confusion or need for three staff to listen to me repeating myself. Strange that nine year-olds can interpret me but educated adults cannot. The only thing I can think is that I am seen in the queue and it’s then decided as I’m a foreigner I cannot be understood. Believe me I have been there: I used to serve drunk Glaswegians for a living. There is no more impenetrable accent particularly with the accompaniment of alcohol (and some also hate the English) but I persevered, and never once got my face broken. Should your employees continue to serve me with their brains switched off they may not be so lucky.
· I am not a person who especially cares what others think but I do care when I am talked about in plain sight. Staff know I have been here a while and so should also know that I know the meaning of the word “farang” (English: foreigner.) Y’know? I expect to hear this every time I walk past some gossipy fishwives on the street but I do not expect or wish to hear it as employees pass comment on me while I wait in the queue (particularly after I deliberately smiled and greeted them when I first walked in.) Yes, I have been seen inebriated in the store with Social Director on more than one occasion. Yes on one such occasion I made a loud pronouncement when asked about a certain bodily organ. There is lots of gossip fodder but could everyone just do it when I am leaving or at the back of the store trying to locate the one brand of noodles out of twenty varieties that does not contain either prawn or shrimp??

Thanking you Americans in anticipation of your kind support.

Teacher.

Ps. I like Obama now.


So you see students, everything can be sorted if you just take the time to put things right. And also know that you are always right. Should you feel offended by my rant then please avoid me anytime I really have a 'bee in my bonnet.' I hope precious ones you are not offended and know me well enough to percieve that I usually am as sweet as a smurf dipped in chocolate and rolled around in sprinklings before being dressed in a pink tutu.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

No homework today: I’m not marking more.


x Teacher

Post VI - 10 Things I (Love) about (Me)

Students,

As I recline on the couch today I would like to share some things about myself you may not already know. Perhaps doing so will give valuable insight into the quick and brilliant mind of your beloved teacher. I have somewhat of a penchant for lists, in fact I make them all the time, and so this blog will follow that format. It may also take some time so you might want to grab a snack…

· The greatness of Great Britain or ‘Lie back and think of England’. I am very proud to be British, and more specifically English. While my home nation is actually quite irritating should you have a home there, it is wonderful in many many ways and as a Brit abroad any mention of it inspires warm feelings and the need to wax lyrical for a bit. I suppose what I particularly enjoy and yearn for is the ‘classic’ Britain with all the trappings of ‘proper’ society. I do not mind a bit if dumb Americans think we all live in castles or talk in faux Hugh Grant-esque sloane accents as long as they also notice such joys as tennis at Wimbledon, the ritual of afternoon tea, HRH the Queen, our fine theatre actors, history and beautiful architecture everywhere, clipped vowels, and our cutting sense of humour. I plan to remain an English gentleman to the core because I put to you the world is a better and more civilized place because of us. This means that I will never be heard telling unnecessarily dirty jokes or (shudder) discussing bodily functions, specifically pooh. I remember times after sharing this information where irritating friends have began describing the messiest do-dos they have ever done done. My simple solution in these situations is to share back with some explicit descriptions of gay sex. Be warned!!!!
· Phobia of old persons. This all started a little while ago in Edinburgh with an unfortunate incident on a bus. One crisp dewy morning I was on the way to the theatre to partake in a tone meeting for a play I was directing. I was running late and Id/Ego/Superego were all bellowing in annoyance at people getting in my way. I had only been seated for a few moments when from behind me I heard some unhealthy wheezes then a loud sneeze. What followed was a sensation that still haunts me. A jet of cold sticky mucus hit the back of my neck with sickening force. I had the germs of an old person on my person. Ever since I have taken more note of the aged population and they continue to alarm me… Why do they wear heavy coats in summer?? Why oh why do they use the doctor’s surgery as a place to congregate and socialize?? Although the phobia – as my friend Rosie told me it was – has slightly abated, I still inform employers if any event arises that requires me to interact with someone who is 60+ I am not the right man for the job and this was made painfully clear when, also in Edinburgh, I gave a historical underground tour to a group from the WI (Womens Institute – another quaint British tradition of old biddies meeting weekly to bake and gossip). As we were underground and in the dark, several of the ladies required me to hold their hands (!) and talk to them IN A VERY LOUD VOICE so they could hear. Students I will just say that I can’t quite do justice to the violent thoughts of Id/Ego/Superego that day. Strange that (similarly to cats) even though I put out that I don’t like them, old people do like me… Let me be clear: old people (apart from my delightful grandparents) are unacceptable to me, they are not as dumb as they like to suggest, and they should not be in my personal space. Which leads to…
· Issues of personal space. It is a sad truth that people violate my personal space on a regular basis. These people are the type not to read my face or body gestures and so they must be stopped. The latest example of personal space violation was last night, and actually the incident not only combined this issue but also my aforementioned phobia. Let me explain. I was with some dear Lopburi friends and a not-so-dear old ‘exception’ / ‘penguin’ at a music gig when said old ‘exception’ informed me I was wearing a serious look on my face. Not realizing said look is reserved specifically for social interaction with him, the ‘exception’ then proceeded to enter my ‘intimacy’ zone. This zone is usually only reserved for occasional familial affection, affection from likeable dogs, and affection from agreeable members of the same sex. What happened next was shocking to say the least and I can only suggest was karmic revenge for my laughing at a Thai man who thought it ok to pick up and lift Brad so he could have more space to sit down. Anyway, the ‘exception’ took his chubby little shrunken hand and rubbed it across my face, pulling my features into a smile… My reaction to this is probably best summed up by the following smiley, since I have yet to find words to capture my true feelings: O_o Please now click on the diagram above for a handy guide but note that the distances displayed must be x3 for me. Easy. Now there are no excuses. However please also note for future reference that if you are someone who enjoys physical closeness with casual acquaintances and you try that shit on me then I am likely to use the same loud command I do on Thai dogs: “Back. It. Up.” That I did not use this command on the ‘exception’ or else connect my hand with his face (using a lot more force than he) is surprising. In the end all I was heard to mutter was “But I’m English…”
· Pointed shit pointing at me. As revealed to close associates earlier last night I am not fond of inanimate objects pointing at right angles to me. If you are lucky enough to lie with me on my bed you will note that nothing in the room is angled directly at me. I know this suggests OCD or addiction but it is not quite as bad as my teenage troubles with plug sockets. When I used to enter rooms and see them switched ‘on’ but have no plugs in them believe me it used to send me over the edge. Now my only addictions involve excessive consumption of water, excessive consumption of BBC World News, and (since ending the happy pills) excessive compulsion for ‘A’.
· Doodle dandy. Another bit of compulsion is my fondness for doodling triangles and stars at every opportunity (usually in my office when you’re talking and I’m not listening.) As the committed teacher I am I have referred back to Sigmund, co-founder of ‘doodleology’ and can tell you that my doodles are very masculine (hardly surprising, right?) as men tend to doodle geometric shapes. If you doodle human figures and faces you are a girl. Apparently my triangles suggest a logical, analytical mind (WTF??!!) while stars suggest I was emotionally deprived as a child (haha). So there, now you can never say you don’t learn things from my blog. Oh and Brad if you are reading this, there is only one interpretation of your doodles and that is that you sir are sick and wrong.
· Syllable satisfaction. One final bit of obsessive compulsion I will share (for if we go into issues of my competitiveness, inability to walk along the street with someone else without walking diagonally into them, and crazy driving rituals then I won’t have any readership) is my compulsion to count syllables when listening to others speak. If you are talking to me and you notice my thumb tapping the fingers of my right hand you can be sure I am counting the vocal syllables in your every word. This crazy shit has taken over my life on many important occasions especially back in the dark past when I was a student and really should have been listening in class. My syllable hell pales however when compared to the weird compulsions of many of my favourite students in England…
· Toxic teens. As Brad already knows I am possessed of a cloying soft spot for maladjusted teenage tearaways and would happily adopt any filthy street kid who came my way (as long as they are not a chav.) Now now students don’t worry, I am no paed. What I mean is that where some folk coo over babies and kittens I cannot help but be charmed by snarky back-chatting kids with behavioural issues. As a teacher I find that the students whom others call “a bad egg”, “nuts”, and just plain “satanic” are the ones I identify with and enjoy to work with most. This may be because I still remember my time at school and the cool stuff me and my gang (secretly) did as opposed to the squares that did such stuff as Young Enterprise – yawn! Never mind the bookish swots (American: nerds) bring on the hoodlums!!
· Sweetcorn. Even saying the word sends shivers down my spine. It is simply evil, my arch enemy, and a foodstuff straight from the bowels of hell. What is to like? It smells AWFUL, has a weird taste and consistency, cannot be properly digested, and not even fish want to eat it when you chuck it in the water (not using your bare hands of course) because you’ve run out of maggots as bait. What concerns me most is how it seems to turn up everywhere. As you may know I regard tuna as the food of the gods so finding those heinous yellow things mixed in does not make me happy. In addition when first coming to Thailand I particularly enjoyed coconut milk for dessert. But one lunchtime at school I was heard to let out a horrified “WHAT??!!” upon noticing that also occupying the bowl were (yet again) those heinous yellow things. Now I know some Thai food does not make a lick of sense but I ask you whoever thought that sweetcorn be used for dessert??? As I said earlier sick and wrong.
· Shy bladder. Yes it is what it is. I admit my bladder is shy. I must say also I have no hang-ups about my body or social nudity so there are no problems with standing at urinals for that reason. But I have had countless incidents of social awkwardness while trying to go in company and being unable to produce the goods and the sound of piss hitting the porcelain that they expect. The worst was the pain I felt after attending an Edinburgh Hogmanay street party night. Facilities there were troughs populated by a mass of men standing so close as to be physically intimate – problem! It was an impossibility for my bladder to withstand it and the result was a severe guttural pain felt until I could get home and piss like a Russian racehorse so offloading the several boxes of wine I had downed. The whole business is especially tricky if my fellow man commits the cardinal sin of talking to me while I’m straining to go or (as Thai men do) check out the cock to ascertain size. Nowadays I find it safer to pop to the stalls and have a (hopefully) eyes-free experience in there.
· I LOVE the swinging 60s. I find that a lot of what I especially like in life (and what Id wants) actually comes from the 1960s. This has always been the case. As a young kid I had an obsession with 60s technicolour TV including Thunderbirds, Star Trek, Lost In Space (yes I am a sci-fi gay) and the Hanna Barbera cartoons. In addition the 60s gave us flower power, the moon landing, Carnaby Street fashion, (cool) hippies, and Elvis. It also produced such British notaries as The Beatles, Sean Connery and Roger Moore (James Bond’s), Lulu and Cilla (!), Julie Andrews, Twiggy, and Diana Rigg. I simply adore the colours, fashions, absurdist movement in theatre, and any collectable knick knacks from that era. I happen to slightly resent my parents for growing up at that time and have told them as much. Although I haven’t ever gone so far as to dress totally 60s (though I did do 50s with my James Dean phase) be warned it may still happen. You bet if I had a time machine, you wouldn’t see me for dust.

So there students. How privileged you are. Now you can step back a bit.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Do a little dance. Make a little love. Get down tonight.


X Teacher

Post V –

Id(iot) likes planting Seed

Students,

It has come to my attention that some of you may have observed myself and ‘good time’ girls Lady Tara and Lady Jasmine getting what the Thai locals call “mow” and what you may call pissed. Lady, I’d like to tell you you’re wrong, but that could lead to sticky situations and more than my story coming undone. In short, such lies would necessitate spankies. Our dear friend Sigmund may have been wrong about some issues (I have personally never thought of my mother in that way) but on matters of the greedy id when he is right he is right, right? And so for our blog today I wish to detail the (some say) wicked temptations in this monkey-sex town of Lopburi. One in particular comes to mind and that one is Seed Pub, a late-night establishment that students should - not ever – care to attend (but annoyingly, do.) At this point, a word or 160 from Ego, mistress (or Mr.) of ceremonies:

Ego: As the rational lez in this mind (f*ck) sandwich, may I beseech you to remember the high moral character I embody between the ‘anything goes’ Id(eas) and the yes sir/no sir top -> bottom imbalance of (NOT SO) Superego. Teachers have a duty to be everything to their students while fresh of face, young of spirit, and strict in action… (That’s action not in-action.) What must be kept frontal lobe is the oft-quoted “Work hard, play hard(er.)” Which, it is certain, is what this dili-gent teacher enjoys. “Youth is wasted on the young” is another of those academic sayings that drifts into my mind space from time to (closing) time. The point(s): “Learn it before live it.” “Work before play and play before work.” But separate the two. Always. Cooking in Hell’s fires is the result if you don’t… There that’s all the flogged-to-death analogies from me for now. Don’t have nightmares.

Now. To Seed. I would describe this Lopburian lounge as a place (It’s) Britney (bitch) would call home. As you see from her photo above, students she is an example of an individual of upmost class. Much like Seed. And, like Id, she would no doubt savour the crush of sweaty young bodies, appropriately inappropriate gropage while en route to the water closet, the series of catwalks populated by nudish nymphs bopping to stimulating (read: erotical) beats, and the hot (in the dark) waiters responsible for much of aforementioned gropage…

Saturday P.M./Sunday A.M. with my Ladies was tame compared to previous visits. You see I would never have came across this special devil’s playground were it not for my keeping company with some naughty (but nice) Thai associates. This gaggle of gays spirited me off there once, and I’m proud to say before we had the mainstream (as evidenced by my students) blocking the dance floor (read: dance square.) Back in the golden days of yore (not quite when all was still in black and white but not yesterday anyhow) it offered even more. It was simply Seedier. One could rub shoulders (and other body parts) with pimps and their prostitutes, various gender benders, and very many model-esque young upstarts in very little attire…

Possibly my favourite Seed-y night can be seen amid the photos of my earlier Picture Post, though sadly this does not quite do justice to an experience that saw Natalie mowed with the mo’s, Brad re-applying his clothes, and myself declaring “Anything goes!” Well actually I had a little (or big) bit more to declare but that’s best left as memory for the poor sober ladies of 7/11… At this midway point the gag will be removed from Id’s mouth so he can spew some muck:

Id: I’m a go-er that’s for damn sure. What goes on (with) the head is why I’m in this race. And the Thais they loves that honey, too. You gotta keep awake in this heat, see? Gotta be active not passive else you’ll be sleeping on the job. I am cock-sure about one thing though and that’s the education those students will get if they keep on going. No, I won’t be the provider. Nor will the TV… Unless of course it’s a different kind of TV…

Insightful. But students, what this really comes down to is the ‘A’ grade fun one can have as part of the after-dark crowd. While I cannot guarantee vampirism will provide you a tonsil-tickling social circle, what I will say is that the Thais do know how to party. And I will play Peter Pan on the club scene as long as I can. The Lost Boys would expect nothing less. Given my recent unfortunate (read: ‘A’aaaaaaaaaaa(h)!) ‘A’ge change, my only concession is rule #1: 'not on school nights.’ At this (jumping off a bridge) point the final thought is with the alter-ego, Superego:

Superego: (As you know) I swing both ways. But I dress just one way. To the left. Debauchery is all good and proper, but will somebody please think of the children?? Oh good. Job done then. Be a man, agreed? Go Seed!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Just say “No!”

Further reading: Today Teacher believed that the id of Student Chen could not possibly be heard from on a Creative Writing exam paper. How wrong. In answer to a question on using verbs to explain what you do at different times of day, under his ‘Evening’ heading he wrote ‘Having sex in bed.’ But it didn’t end there… In answer to a question on using 3 adjectives to describe Beyoncé, Chen chose ‘beautiful’, ‘sexy’, and ‘fucking hot.’ I of course expect him to achieve his usual high marks.

x Teacher

Post IV – The Good and the Bad (no uglies) of Thailand

Students,

I am often asked “Teacher, do you miss England?” The short answer is “Yes, you twit.” But to answer the question as thoroughly as you’ve come to expect, I will forego id/ego/superego this blog and instead employ a simple technique known as 'Pros and Cons'. I myself am a pro but a con is a person of dubious character and lifestyle. I’d like to tell you I have never encountered such persons. But I can’t. Another time we will use a top psychiatrical technique known as 'I Have Never' and information on con artists (read: a certain former live-in lover) will no doubt be recollected. But not this blog. The 'Pros and Cons' today regard the land of the Thai and my good/bad experiences therein. Probing psycho-anal-ysis is sure to find a hard answer as to why I miss England but am very happy Thailand is my home from home.

Pros: Mental health is taken care of here through sun, sun, and more sun plus ego is stroked through celebrity status of being one of the few young (and therefore attractive) whiteys in town. Lopburi is a rural area surrounded by mountains and sunflower fields where if one were feeling adventurous one could straddle and ride a throbbing motorbike yonder… Or a trip to 7/11 for more Sangsom liquor and an exciting Queer as Folk marathon with soul brother Brad could also do the trick. The tedious work of the house is done through hotel home staff, and the never-ending work of the teacher is made easier by (similarly) hard-working students whose (sometime) guttural minds mirror my own* My Thai students, and the people in general, are beyond gracious and kind. Though they think me ‘serious’ for not smiling quite as much as they, I have a lot to thank them for. And the men are pretty darn hot too. I would suggest that the Thai’s penchant for tight uniforms on soldiers, police officers, and doctors be shared in every nation.

There is however one more pro I will note and that is Bangkok. Though polluted, crowded, full of old ugly balding fat cartoon-bodied westerners, and frigging expensive, one night in Bangkok is a sinful delight. While there with friend Jamie (a man whose sexual drive surpasses my own) and Lee (a man who does ‘rabbit in headlights’ to a T before delivering a quip so cutting it draws blood) we ventured into the night on Jamie’s assertions that the good stuff would come our way through an (endlessly repeated) instruction to a cabbie of “No bom bom no pay!” For I to recall and accurately convey the sights of Bangkok’s dark underbelly that night would require a five-drink minimum. Suffice to say that each visit to the city has brought much reliable ‘A’ action and its innuendo-inducing name is not for nothing.

Cons: Aside from missing family and friends the last 7+ months have been relatively con-free. That is save for two western teacher ‘exceptions’ (now thankfully buggered off.) One important matter that I have said and said again is that yellow just does not suit me. In their devotion to the King many Thais wear his colour all day. I’d love to myself but all three of id/ego/superego would first have to be unconscious. As would I. The Dean may mutter but on this issue I won’t budge. Call me vain… but don’t call me fat. And if other Thai teachers would take that on-board too (perhaps by noticing the rage cross my face as they make that particular statement) I would be as happy and gay and light of step as they.

* As example, a whole blog could be devoted to Creative Writing student Chen. His ‘creative’ responses to tasks usually involve some obsecenely entertaining interpretation of his sex life. That is except for last week when in response to a fictional postcard writing task he explained his dream holiday as being a trip to the moon with his best bud to see how far they could shoot their body juices in the low gravity… In addition there have been some classic sexually-charged quotations purred by my ladyboy students, my favourite so far being “Teacher, do you have big boy?”

So you see what riles me about life here is far outnumbered by the delights of living in a country so unique and special. I am English so do have episodes of unimpressed-ness such as when forced to wait an age in check-out queues, but Miss Winter, if you are reading, you will be amused to hear of a reduction in slacker tendencies due to my working alongside colleagues whose own ‘relaxed’ approach often borders on inertia. My mind here is refreshingly clear, and students you will be pleased to hear that teaching is once more a real passion and reason to get me going each morning...

But one more thing to end, besides family and friends and f_ _ k _ _ g (more) what do I miss about England? In brief: food like lasagne, potatoes, good cereals, Dad’s fajitas and Mum’s roast dinner, hanging out and milling about shops like Topman, British music and music channels, British TV, Saturday nights with Morrell, long laugh-out-loud phone calls with Zoë, getting told off by Sister for not being her suitably brotherly role model, going to the cinema, red wine, hearing rain while I fall asleep, my books and DVDs, being able to teach more Drama, and… dogs that are well-adjusted and don’t want to jump out with their whole ‘all bark no bite’ schtick.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Take a long hard look at yourself.

x Teacher