Family and Fate

Students,

Some of you may know that the reason for my absence here is a family emergency that led to my leaving Thailand and returning to the UK. It's very hard to put into words how I feel about my father battling leukemia and that's why I haven't tried to, even though I've wanted to. I'm actually afraid I've shied away from confronting my true feelings and going through it in my head. My family have told me I should do this as, to them, talking is a way of coming to terms with what's happened/is happening. Unfortunately though I can't. To be honest I see it all as cruel fate and after cursing the universe repeatedly for this terrible senseless thing I find what's left is too painful to talk about. So far I've chosen to keep my mind as uncomplicated - trivial if you like - as possible. But then that becomes a problem in itself and, as I read back over my 40 (!) previous blogs one thing that hits home is that maybe I'd created myself a world focused on me alone. Everything was intentionally trivial, on my own terms, and nothing touched me because I was too busy. Now that has gone (even temporarily) and I've got to adapt to a situation that's beyond my control. I've got to find the means to cope with doing what I came back to do: support my mother and sister at this time. I've also got to let go of my feelings - however incomprehensible and contradictory they are - and I may as well do that here...

I realise now that being away from home for so long had an impact on my family relationships. I was feeling this year like I had found both my path and myself after a painful few years of self-doubt. I was finally doing things my way. The only thing was that my family didn't fit into this picture and, even though my parents visited my new home, I failed to act as they wanted me to. Yet, isn't this a similar picture for any non-conformist mid-20s man who has left in search of something that better suits their needs? Is a feeling of alienness so uncommon in a family? (Especially one that is geographically separated.)

The fact is that different lives work for different people and I don't think my enthusiastic recounting of an all-night party in Bangkok's gay clubs would go down too well with my folks even though it's of gripping interest to myself and my friendship group! In another way discussing life after leukemia is not really something I wish to contribute to. I choose to be a listener and though I don't mind this role it does tend to make me go internally crazy. In my regular conversation I am realistic, brief, and to the point; I wonder is there a point when trying to make sense of the future? Do you get my frustration?

When my parents began to find themselves frustrated with me around their house (it never takes long as we have opposite views on the best way to use free time - I like the daily routine of free time to lack 'routine' tasks as much as possible) they began to call me "selfish." They still can't understand why I long for silence and peace on my own or that I want to be away from my home country. They also can't understand why I'm unable to be satisfied in my teaching job here or else put my feelings on hold for the sake of my father and the more-important situation. After a couple of months with them I've failed to cry openly, pour my heart out, or want to be there as they did these things. Does that make me a bad son? A closed-off person divorced from matters of family? Am I inherently selfish?

After mulling the above questions I think that my personality such as it is doesn't easily lend itself to huge affection or being the backbone of a family. I'd never want to start and raise a family myself; I prefer instead to show kindness in my work with young people. Don't get me wrong I do care but I'm fiercely private by nature and my identity is largely defined by my friendships. My friends don't matter more than my family (obviously they don't or I wouldn't be in the UK right now), but they allow me a freedom and joy that is entirely me. I've known my family all my life and there are fundamental differences in how we see and respond to the world. Their lives, their world, has always been here and it probably always will be. There's nothing wrong with that but I've known the 'real me' for only a short time and I love it. It is tied to Thailand and right now in England it seems so foreign. I am apart from my community, my lover, my life, my world.

Having said all of the above you have to ask if it really amounts to much when faced with such a serious situation that hits so close to home? This is the paradox I wrestle with and feel guilt over as I lie awake at night. It's a paradox because they say that something as serious as a life or death situation makes you take stock, recognise what is important, and focus on that. My Dad is of upmost importance to me. His body cannot let him down and I won't even consider that possibility even as my mother and sister question "What if?" It's too upsetting. He has given me so much and now I find it hard to give back. But I try and I try again and my actions or seeming inactions, my stunted expressions of how I feel don't seem to give what is required of me in the situation. I love deeply and truely however, what I say and what I do is misconstrued because in my mind I'll admit I cannot help feeling resentful and I cannot deny the importance of all I have that is not here. I can only repress these feelings for so long before they explode to the surface, usually ruining a dinner and making me look like a petulant child.

I wish I could eloquently explain to my parents how the life I found is so important. It comforts me, inspires me, makes me feel in step with everything. It is everything. Then again can't you say the same of the people who gave birth to you, guided you, taught you, invested time and money in you over and over and over again? After all, any contradictions of personality, instances of fierce temper, stubbornness, and self-conflict, all of this alienness was inherited or founded in my formative years. Sometimes when I teach and have to chastise a student I surprise myself by spouting out some expression belonging to my mother. It's scary and epic how much is shared and how much I owe my family; it's in my head and my blood. Nobody makes me feel as they do.

What I found overseas and claimed as mine is something I won't share and I need it back soon. When I get the chance I will take it back with both hands, but I think I will do so with a greater sense of purpose and humility because that's what my family - and my brave father - is giving me now however much I try to resist. The life that they had made for themselves has been torn apart suddenly and devastatingly and as I struggle to cope, feel out of control, and take it all out on them I am still humbled by their love and commitment and their positive belief. That's why I know in the end everything will be ok, fate will right itself and we can all go back to normal. In the meantime I will cope by taking control where I can. I will be true to my work and my personal life by doing good things for and with my students, and staying in touch with my boyfriend and my friends. Lastly I will show solidarity, tolerance, and love to my family by just being here. That's all I can do.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Make sure to come back again soon for nice pictures and less 'heavy' issues. See you next time!

x Teacher

Shoot-to-Kill

Students,

I choose not to be around persons whom annoy and/or irritate me but sometimes I have no choice in the matter when such folk refuse to extricate themselves from my personal world. Now I know it shouldn’t bother me so much when I encounter Thai men openly hunting for treasure in their nasal passages while I’m on my morning commute. Maybe it also shouldn’t distress me when I hop hurriedly from the subway carriage only to face a line of Thai ladies dripping elegance in their high-heeled shoes but refusing to consider walking up the escalator so we can reach daylight through moving rather than standing still. However by far the worst offenses to my sensibilities are committed by fellow foreign guys who bring their pals into confined spaces with me only to a) raise the temperature with their sweaty bodies and b) raise my blood pressure with continued loud referencing of their sex lives. To them I posit yes, you are with a similarly grubby friend whose mid-life crisis no doubt has him eager to discuss these issues and yes, the majority of the public cannot understand what you’re harping on about… BUT I CAN! It wouldn’t be so bad if this was a rare occurrence but sadly for me it is a frighteningly frequent one. Investing in a new I-Pod has never seemed like such a good idea even though the last one brought annoyance through its continual malfunction (like every piece of technology I own) and also once led me to knock a motorcyclist over since I was so distracted by it... Maybe I was de-stressing with Metallica...

What is the answer? As you’d expect I have one. Last night I went to see the film Wanted with Angelina Jolie and new hot Scot James McAvoy. Leaving aside the storyline (which it seemed was written by a 15 year-old computer gamer) I was somewhat turned on by the idea of international assassinations. In fact by the end I was thoroughly convinced of the social benefits of hiring a mercenary to take out the few who cause me such consternation. Now let me emphasize that I am a devout pacifist; by way of example I can tell you that I can’t even bring myself to exterminate a large cockroach I sighted patrolling my kitchen floor over the last few mornings. My solution has simply been to make a loud (not at all girlish) noise and hope it’s gone when I open my eyes. But I have been tempted to inform my boyfriend of the pest because I know he’d be all for exacting a death sentence. Going back to the point of our topic though, as I sat in the cinema last night my mind settled itself on two definite targets – this time a pair I am acquainted with and really wish I weren’t – whom I would put in range for head shots without hesitation.

Teacher’s Death List

Kill 1. Saying you hate someone is kind-of strong, right? Well I hate a South-African guy we’ll call Farem. He lives with Na and has consistently proved himself to be one of the most repulsive creatures I’ve ever encountered. Allow me to explain. Farem is of large build and with a hairy belly which he plumps out for effect. He has the manner of certain bitchy self-promoting gays but turned up to about 11. He struts around invading the space of others with little care and with an odd sneer across his ugly face. While living alongside him he repeatedly remarked that he knew I’d like to sleep with him (I’d rather sleep with a rotting animal carcass actually) and even went so far as to barge in on me in the shower. He also has a fondness for playing mind games such as openly gossiping about me with my former partner; this is perhaps the main reason I despise the man. Trouble is even though we now don’t live in the same place I still can’t seem to be rid of him. I see him everywhere – out clubbing, on the street, on public transport, etc. The fact that he has followed (or perhaps encouraged) Na’s odd example to look/dress a little ‘draggish’ only adds to his toxicity. The final solution can only be a shoot-to-kill order.

Kill 2. This candidate is another whose presence I feel everywhere. There are certain individuals whom I would adore to feel everywhere but not this one. Let’s call him Xanzibar. The pock-faced irk is a couple of years younger than me and a foreigner of Eastern European origin. I feel the world – or the gay world at any rate – would be much happier if he were not part of it. Live and let live can change to die and let die in his case. My reasons: Similarly to Farem he constantly wears an affected smug expression that suggests you are not worthy of his greatness. Nothing could be further from the truth. Xanzibar is so white he is practically transparent and even though he is a man of few words all of them are dumb and filled with misguided self-importance. He is BORING. He also tries to look cool with a lollipop stick in his mouth whenever strolling around the club. Worst crime though – he’s joined the same gym and seems to be there whenever I am. Yeeech! The gym should be a place for me to release endorphins and admire beautiful people, not toads like he! Shoot-to-kill needed.

In both of these cases self-delusion and seeming arrogance could mask insecurities but I think the simpler answer is the correct one: they are just unpleasant. And maybe I am too for suggesting they should be wiped out. However my blog is about my world and in my world I call the shots. So… Bang and bang!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Leave the marking to me and get on with the rubbing out.

.

x Teacher

Work in Progress

Students,

I got to feeling a tad philosophical today after it occurred to me that among my core of friends here and back home I must be by far the most irresponsible. I don’t have a mortgage, a marriage, a child or any other small animals, and I certainly don’t have any notions of acquiring these things in the distant future. As I mused I began to feel not so much troubled as liberated. Who wants to be tied down by life when one can live almost completely for pleasure… And perhaps be tied down in other ways while about it? Life is all theatre after all.

One thing I love about Thailand is the relaxed pace and general easiness of everyone with everyone else. This may all be surface, and underneath the country’s inhabitants are a seething mass of frustration, but as long as that stays unacknowledged I prefer it to the confrontations I found were part of my daily life in the UK. Perhaps it was my irresponsibility that didn’t fit with the culture there and I do remember an office assistant job that frequently resulted in my being reprimanded because my casual approach was not tolerated. Maybe I just don’t come from the mould of a ‘normal’ person who strives to climb the career ladder, buy property, and settle down. They have never been outcomes I’ve longed for. And then I look on Facebook and friends from school have ticked all the boxes… Should I feel old knowing such upstanding citizens or young because I’m their antithesis?

On occasion my wider family have struggled to understand my random drifting – and especially – my current location. Why am I here? Because it’s FUN. I have a blast every day; I see new things, meet new people, and have the privilege of being respected and smiled at in my work. The social life is amazing too. I don’t have to be guarded about my sexuality when out on the town or concerned that if I catch someone’s eye on the subway they will misconstrue that and get defensive (or offensive.) I can hold my partner’s hand if I want to and often hold his shoulder as we walk around in public. More than that though my life feels full and fast. I always have something to occupy myself and this makes me outgoing and involved with the world. I don’t feel like I’m failing even though I have faults. Where in the UK I would reach for some medication, here I reach for the phone and plan to be with my friends. Who don’t have marriages. Or mortgages. Or children. Or pets. And that’s all ok. We’re experiencing something else…

…People ask me all the time “When will you go home?” To that I tell them “Why would I want to?” Right here right now is what’s important to me and right here right now I have everything I need. I take responsibility for today and let the rest figure itself out. Scary? That is one of the benefits of being irresponsible. I realize now I’m not a failure or a quitter I just like doing things differently and not expecting all this stuff from my life. The unexpected feels like living to me and I love to live. Actually I think I’m a work in progress and maybe all this will sound daft when I look at it next time having changed my mind. But as I drift at the moment I get my drift. How about you?

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Expression not repression.

x Teacher

Apple for Teacher

Students,

It is sometimes nice to be appreciated (hint.) Yesterday was Wai Kru or Teacher's Day in Thailand and, to be honest, I was a little peeved that my role in this event was to sit for 2 hours hearing students eulogise in Thai while their listening tutors sobbed around me on the stage (I work at a touchy-feely girls school.) However my feelings changed when I arrived at my desk this morning to find a note from one of my students. The contents were as follows:

Happy teacher's Day.....

To: Ajhan Paul,

I'm so glad that you teach me and thank you for everything that you gave to me. You make me have more knowledge and every important things. Thank you!

From: Kawinna (Gig)

...It's almost enough to make this hardened professional shed a tear (almost.) The cynical Id in me suggests someone is fishing for a good grade, but the optimistic Ego says 'Thank you Gig.' I wish I knew who you were...

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: With compliments.

x Teacher

Feeding Time

Students,

Continuing a spell of creative writing, Teacher has embarked on a project to pen a one-act play. The drama may be submitted to Bangkok Community Theatre's one-act festival if, when drafted a few times, it does not suck. Otherwise the exercise will have just been an interesting problem-solving task.

A one-act play is usually 25 minutes on a single stage set. My original idea was for an innocent conversation between two people which then took a sinister turn and quickly became heated and desperate. The idea evolved from date gone wrong to taxi ride gone wrong to couple meet in Bangkok club (this will also go wrong.) The scenario means I can play with sound and create tension by having a disco beat as constant background. There could also be a lowered lighting state and minor characters around to interrupt the main action / represent the mood.

The script is provisionally titled Feeding Time and its characters are Joe, a mysterious twentysomething who may or may not have ulterior motives for talking to Jess, a 25 year-old English woman who has just moved to Thailand and doesn't even realise how vulnerable that makes her. Below you will find a script extract at a point where the characters step out onto the club balcony for a smoke. This is the first point that Jess notices Joe might be somewhat good-looking. Please read and (kindly) critique if you wish.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Learn your lines.

x Teacher

JOE
Those things will kill you. You know?

(JOE motions to JESS’ cigarette then points at the gruesome picture on the packet.)

JESS
So will a lot of things. What’s your name?

(JESS hands him back his cigar. JOE hands her back her cigarette, waggles the cigar between his teeth, and raises his eyebrows.)

JOE
Hmm. That’s forward. And I believe you’re following polite conversation rules all of a sudden. Living a little?

JESS
Well if the alternative is being killed…

JOE
Ok. But you first lady.

Ladies should always go first.
I hear that’s like the number 1 rule of chivalry.

JESS
It’s Jess.

JOE
A-ha. I’m…

(Suddenly the clubgoers behind them start screaming orgasmically over and over as representation of JESS’s sexualised thoughts. We do not hear JOE say his name and clearly neither does JESS. She nods and pretends to however.)

…Welcome to Bangkok.

(The clubgoers stop and return to dancing normally.)

JESS
Sorry?

JOE
I said ‘Welcome to Bangkok.’

(A spilt-second break in the music before the beat resumes.)

JESS
How do you know that I’m new here?

JOE
Haven’t seen you before.

JESS
Is this the only club in Bangkok?

JOE
Nope.

JESS
And do you know every area of the city and who lives there?

JOE
Nope.

JESS
Then how could you know I’m new here?

JOE
Let’s just say your first impressions gave you away.

JESS
What do you mean?

JOE
Oh I don’t know. The pasty face and sunburned forearms…
The ‘trying too hard to look relaxed’ casual wear…
You’re perspiring quite heavily which suggests you’re not used to the heat…
And you asked the waiter for no ice because you haven’t got over your paranoia about the drinking water yet. What? You look freaked out.

JESS
Uh-huh.

JOE
Why? I’m observant that’s all. Maybe you’re not observant enough.

JESS
How would you know?

JOE
Just sayin’

JESS
I’d say I’m pretty observant.
For instance: You have that shaved head and facial stubble that guys have if they want a rugged look.
But you’re not quite so carefree. That shirt is a label and those jeans were not cheap. Designer underwear no doubt, possibly a shaved chest, and certainly more products in his bathroom cabinet than a tourist like me.

JOE
Well now you’re just generalizing.

JESS
No, I’m not.

JOE
Yes you are. It’s not observant to describe a ‘type’.
You want to see my underwear?

(JOE undoes the top button of his trousers to show a glimpse.)

JESS
You show me yours… (JESS moves to take a look.)
…You’re not wearing any!

(JOE steps away.)

JOE
Really? Where’d they go? (JOE puffs on his cigar.)
…What do you deduct from your observation then?

JESS (Thinking.)
…That you’re cocky.

Because...

I thought I knew what happy was,
the kind with blue skies and sun.
I expected things would drift along
with me as number one.
The noise in my mind was all but background,
my heart was locked and sealed.
And then, my love, you came around
to show me how to feel.

I didn't want to second guess
or question who you are.
What came before I couldn't care less

Because...

You've woken me up
and I didn't know I was sleeping.
I'm lost in your smile,
I'm lost in your lips,
Your words, your stare, your legs, your hair.
I want your kisses,
you touching my skin.

And...
I'm crazy, I'm worried, I'm so fucking scared.
But when you look my way
I don't even care.

I'll give it to you, whatever it is.
All you want and more.
My body, my brain,
my heart, my name.
I wouldn't think twice,
worry what's in store.
I wouldn't look before leaping

Because...

You've woken me up

and I didn't know I was sleeping.

I'm lost in your smile,

I'm lost in your lips,

Your words, your stare, your legs, your hair.

I want your kisses,

you touching my skin.

And...

I'm crazy, I'm worried, I'm so fucking scared.

But when you look my way

I don't even care.

xxx

Doctor Who?

Students,

Ok so attend closely, here is the situation: There is a man and he calls himself The Doctor. That’s it, just The Doctor. Cool, huh? Except this man is not a man at all, he’s an alien from a planet called Gallifrey and is over nine hundred years old. His alien race are called Timelords and they are able to see the whole of time, and manipulate it. They are a good people – or were – because they and their planet perished in an intergalactic time war. This means The Doctor is the last of the Timelords – a lonely god if you will. A glimmer of hope came when he met another whom you might describe as his alter-ego. He was called The Master and he displayed a thirst for power that would lead to his eventual death. The Master was unfortunately slightly bonkers on account of looking into the eye of the time vortex as a junior Timelord on Gallifrey. The Doctor did the same thing but on seeing this infinity was inspired to take a different path as traveler in time and space, helping others with his vast scientific knowledge, outwardly compact and inwardly enormous time machine, and the handy tools of sonic screwdriver and psychic paper. This machine of his is called a TARDIS, meaning ‘Time And Relative Dimension In Space.’ It is actually thought to be more living organism than machine, and it tends to pilot its owner to trouble spots so he can make friends and solve problems. The TARDIS also translates every known language so he can understand those he speaks to. Unfortunately The Doctor’s life is very dangerous, and he is often menaced by a malevolent robot race called Daleks. The Daleks resemble human-sized pepper pots and come from a far-away planet called Skaro. They were created by a physically deformed being called Davros who first programmed them to win a centuries-long battle between the two races on his world. Alas they turned rogue and evolved into killing machines, conquering solar systems and even being responsible for the destruction of Gallifrey. They have gunned down The Doctor before, but as a Timelord, he can avoid death by changing his body into another. This morphic ability is called regenerating. So far in his life he has successfully regenerated at least ten times much to the surprise of traveling companions. These companions have mainly been humans since The Doctor has a fondness for 20-21st Century Earth and its people. He has shown the stars to a number of us (by-and-large young females), yet the curse of an everlasting life does tend to mean that companions come and go; The Doctor cannot be responsible for them as they get older and fail to keep up with the running. Because of this fact The Doctor cuts quite a lonely figure, and you could say his only real companion is death. Of course he tries to have a good time while being courageous, and in his recent past he and his companions have visited with such luminaries as Madame de Pompadour and writers Charles Dickens, Agatha Christie, and Shakespeare. Companion Rose Tyler was the first person since the time war to give The Doctor real hope again, and a romance of sorts developed between the sassy blonde Londoner and the dishy suited alien. However, Rose was to be cut-off from her friend in a tragic twist as they heroically ended a laser fight between Daleks and another robot race called Cybermen. She escaped the fray and lost The Doctor, being transported to a parallel Earth. Post-devastation, Rose took on a role as adviser for Torchwood, a (somewhat) secret organization originally set-up by Queen Victoria (in both worlds) and dedicated to both salvaging alien technology and neutralizing threats from outer space. Also working for this cause are three of The Doctor’s former companions. Captain Jack Harkness is a bisexual flirt from the 51st Century now made indestructible and immortal during rescue from a Dalek attack. He leads an equally sexually experimental team from a secret base beneath the Millennium Building in Welsh capital Cardiff. Torchwood is partially funded by UNIT (Unified Nations Intelligence Taskforce), who are a covert military operation with vast resources stretching to underground bases and a hovering aircraft carrier. Medical doctor Martha Jones is among key UNIT personnel and has a wealth of experience following a travel period with The Doctor. A little older, but no less feisty is Sarah-Jane Smith. Being an investigative reporter she was ideally qualified to accompany The Doctor across two regenerations in the 1970s, and she continues to adventure in his name. Helping her are adopted son Luke, a plucky band of teenage friends, a voice-activated super computer called Mr. Smith, and a robot dog called K-9 who was gifted to her by The Doctor. Rose, Captain Jack, Martha, Sarah-Jane, Torchwood, UNIT etc will soon be called on to aid their friendly Timelord and current companion Donna Noble against the evil forces of Davros and a re-built Dalek army. The return of these enemies spells untold peril for the Earth, and if Davros’ tyrannical plot is anything like the (probably not) final scheme of The Master, more death and desperate time traveling will ensue. The Doctor will no doubt cure all ills, but he himself will be left to resume eternal wandering, sole pilot of a time machine disguised as a wooden blue police box.

Doctor Who is a genius British TV show that began in the mid 1960s and continues today with annual series. Ostensibly a family show it appeals to a sizeable audience because of a creative concept that allows episodes to be either science-fiction, comedic, thrillers, historical, or disjointed in narrative. David Tennant plays the tenth Doctor with great energy, and is joined by some top British actors in scripts by top British writers. Fan w*nk notwithstanding, this Drama Type always enjoys smart writing/acting/directing and can only encourage all impressionable students to seek out this entertainment when not being otherwise entertained in class. Oh, and it's miles better than Lost (snooze.)

Doctor Who is shown first on BBC One around 7pm on Saturday evenings.
Its spin-off shows are Torchwood and The Sarah-Jane Adventures.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Kindly remove the graffiti-ed word ‘nerd’ from your exercise book and start learning. Teacher needs a companion – cyber geeks excluded – to gush about sonic screwdrivers and not appear crazed… ‘A’ on offer??

x Teacher

Picture Post - Out & About

Students,

I’ve been talking a lot about the social mores of Bangkok, but often words cannot do justice to the exciting times your devoted Teacher enjoys when not in class. Therefore I will stop talking and let you once more nosily peruse some snaps from my photo album. Below you will see another saucy image from my recent drama collaboration as well as assorted friends, lovers, and crazy colleagues.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Hit the town.

x Teacher

Brotherly Love

Students,

I have been putting off telling you about a secret pain afflicting my very core, but there comes a time to talk about such things so here goes. I wish to speak of a fine Californian gentleman whom has now left the party in Bangkok and, in doing so, left behind a broken-up soul brother in myself. Not only that but I reckon if I were to venture out alone sans partner in crime, the clubs we once frequented would be filled with the many he loved (for one night only) and has now callously moved 5000 miles away from. And for what? J.W. always RSVP’d and was never one to go home early. Even when his brother bowed out from a night of sweat and glitter, he kept on going in a manner not dissimilar to those pink Duracell bunnies. Of course that was not the only quality he shared with the rabbit family…

I mourn his departure for our time together was so very brief. We bonded over a shared passion for dancing and di… disco. In fact I believe our first meeting was the result of the classic dance-off situation where two gentlemen meet under a hail of neon lights and must decide whether they are bed partners or life partners. We were the latter. But not in the tedious ‘let’s meet up and discuss love and interior design’ sense. Our shared interest was for playing hard and living fast. Yes, we’d teach during the day and tick all the boxes required of us but come the cover of darkness we took it to the clubs and we gave it good…

Too emphatic? Maybe. But the level of fun with J.W. was always several notches above normal. On a particularly memorable Saturday he decided to add a little bleach to his hair. After losing track of time while chatting he suddenly realized his blonde locks should have been rinsed out already so he rushed to the sink and was gone for some minutes. On returning, all present were interested to discover that J.W.’s hair had turned blue. But being him he didn’t worry, didn’t despair, he just laughed, worked the look, and danced his cares away later. As blogged previously, the right kind of confidence and the right kind of attitude was enough to get this smart guy exactly what and where he wanted that night.

Another night J.W. really made me smile was when he expressed his interest in moving from the dancefloor of late club G.O.D. (Guys On Display) to what can only be described as a ‘bird cage’ hanging next to it. Alright, it was bigger than a bird cage but it served the same purpose – get inside and you’d be prodded and poked by all around and at the least, be gawped at and talked about. In the spirit of play I got us inside and there we climbed, shirtless and hysterical, laughing at the absurdity of our situation. We let go and lived life. We were together at 4am in a crowded gay dance club. There were hot ‘up for it’ guys everywhere and as we moved to the beat we knew that if gay men deserved a place of worship, then G.O.D. was their church.

I mentioned missing J.W. today and as the friend I was talking to glanced my way he noted that I looked as if I could cry. Being British and none too emotional it surprised me to find he was right, I could cry at my brother’s absence. No longer does he call me every lunchtime mocking himself and a scene that had been caused by another of his over-eager Thai suitors. We can’t meet for dinner only to get drunk on sake instead. And he isn’t there to listen patiently to my musing about Na before snapping me out of it to make sure I’m laughing too.

In short although the man says he has plans to return, he must return. Soon. I demand nothing less. Because until he does the world will seem just a little less well… blue.

J.W. – One-of-a-kind. A legend. Gone but not forgotten, as I adapt to party time without you by my side, I’ll try to ensure your (dis)honour lives on through me. Until you come back. Soon, dammit.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Don’t feel blue. That’s for me not you.

x Teacher

Drama at the Disco

Students,

Some of you may have heard the rumours and the whispers in the streets of my return to the bosom of theatre. Yes sweetie darlings, the Drama Type is returned. Last Saturday night I trod the boards (or the dancefloor at least) in a piece I described as ‘expressive movement’ and some less-inclined teacher friends described as ‘a lot of posing and arm-waving…’ It is always a joy when colleagues heap platitudes on that which you are secretly rather proud of. Sigh. Sarcasm aside, the experience was most enjoyable. I had a great time, and a creative burst now and again is always welcome.

The venue was Luminous Bar, a three-floor club space in central gay town, Bangkok. The company was New City Collective, an assortment of artistes (no sniggering) from our native English-speaking community and led by a Mr. Jesuino. The party was organized by Trasher, a hippyish Thai troupe with whom I’d experienced an earlier night of colourful disco. And the piece itself was a devised work based around the party’s theme of Alice in Wonderland. It was non-speaking, lasted five minutes, and was set to a mash-up of trippy music.

Our group of five actors / ‘expressive movers’ began rehearsing over the few weekday evenings prior to the show. The drama ideas came thick and fast: larger-than-life physicality! Alice as a goth! Puppetry! …Yes, the dreaded ‘P’ word. Along with the dreaded ‘D’ word (dissertation) this did not make for whoops of joy from Teacher whom some of you may recall had to be coerced off a window ledge after choosing this topic for a university paper. My panic subsided however when, after one pained evening spent clutching a craft knife amid a mountain of polystyrene (‘styrofoam’ as I learned Canadians choose to call it), the looming ‘Queen of Hearts’ puppet was assembled and painted without my assistance. Mercifully I was also spared the operating of the thing save for helping to manouvere Mr. Jesuino who found himself groping around in the dark with his head up its skirt and his hands on its control rod.

My role turned out to be one of three hench persons trying to catch Goth Alice. We hunted her with a large white sheet hung from a bamboo rod. By dramatically rolling and unrolling the sheet we trapped her, spun her, and otherwise dazzled our club audience in a feast of fluorescent fancy! But the section of the piece that I found the most ‘real’ was when we hench persons began a choreographed routine with builders hard hats. This section was ostensibly to allow Goth Alice to hide under the Queen of Hearts’ skirt and change her outfit from black to white, but I think it was a remarkable coordination of efforts that channeled the best in YMCA glamour.

Witness the glorious pictures below and roll on the next show. The Drama Type is back... Sweetie darlings!!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Dig out your spandex for a class routine.

x Teacher

Bachelor Pad

Students,

Although you may be only vaguely familiar with your teacher’s domestic life, I am delighted to report of my first permanent dwelling in Bangkok. After moving from The Pleasuredome, rooming with friends, and then a significant other (as previously blogged), I am now renting a spacious bachelor pad in a veritable gay community. My new one-bedroom apartment is within walking distance from the nightlife you know I am so fond of, and is also surrounded by a collection of happy homo-owners (sorry.)

It turns out that the ill-advised relationship of a few weeks prior allowed just enough time for a rental opportunity to come up in the building I previously stayed. Making an agreement with my friends and lodgers now means they’re my landlords, and we’ve embarked on doing up the pad with eclectic yet tasteful flair. So far I have a fully functional kitchen sporting a gas stove should I wish to (or have time to) cook. I also have a large fridge/freezer should I wish to chill anything other than water, wine, vodka, and ice (perfect dinner for one.)

In the bathroom I have a shower that fits two (already tested) and in the bedroom I have an Asian-style floor bed to accommodate myself and any Asian-styled guests (already tested.) The bedroom itself has some very bold apple-green walls and raspberry coloured decorative items. Of course the bed is black. From the bedroom one (or two) can access an outside balcony with enough floor space and privacy come any eventuality (already tested.) Two very important bedroom features are a Narnia-effect built-in closet (insert own joke here) and a stylish CD player for all those pre-club warm-ups… and post-club warm-ups…

The big decision now is whatever to do with the remainder of my main room. The kitchen and dining areas occupy some of its dimensions, but what is left offers tantalizing opportunities for private pleasures. Who could resist a cushioned dancefloor? Play room with accessories to bind and unwind? Ultimately this is an issue upon which I turn to you, devoted delinquent designers…

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Design for thine.

x Teacher

Sleeping on the job

Students,

You must forgive me today if I speak a little slower than usual, forget your name, or forget my own. I am sleepy. Actually not just sleepy, but in the midst of a constant battle with fatigue. I thought after a month of juggling daytime and evening work my body clock would have synched up and brought out the working professional in me. At least it could have given me something of a buzz in the mornings. Alas I was wrong. Instead I must now rely on fruit, coffee, and lightly slapping myself around the face just to get the brain ticking. But the worst thing is when I do actually make it back through my door at night I suddenly become wide awake and cannot for the life of me switch off and power down. I try to read but the words swim before my eyes. On occasion I head out into the night seeking solace in vodka and a spin with the regulars on the dance floor. But what if I were to meet a fellow insomniac? Right now the best he could hope for is some half-asleep gropage or, as with Saturday night, to wake up beside me on my kitchen floor, the bed being too far when finally my body gives up and zzzzzz.

Happily it seems employers aren’t noticing the bags under my eyes, the stifled yawning, or my staring off into space in a comatose manner. My day job is at a Christian girl’s boarding school. The English-speaking staff are beyond lovely, they chat and socialize, and can see I am trying. But I should be achieving more at this point and student marking is threatening to overwhelm my tired mind. Nevertheless classes are largely stress-free and the students are entertaining. They and I have fun together and the arctic temperature air conditioning keeps me chilly and alert.

On weekday evenings I rush across the city to the Grand Palace where my adult conversation classes require what amounts to a song and dance routine each time. For my new-age employers at the language school text books are out and FUN! FUN! FUN! is the idea. Do zombies feel fun? I can tell you from experience that no, they do not. My students genially play along but they, like me, are doubtless wishing they could be home with their slippers and a cup of tea…

So this is what I’ve turned into. A slave to work, a burned-out shell of my former self. And students, it’s you who do this to me. You whom I aim to please, titillate, and inform. You for whom I beat myself every day! Why did I choose this exhausting profession? Some days I close my eyes and search my ‘happy place’ for answers.

No comments? No questions? Good. Class you may be excused.

Homework: Go and get sick / burn down the school / cause a city-wide disaster that means everyone must stay in bed in the morning.

x Teacher

Love and Lunacy

Students,

I am a man who likes to try new things. Sometimes there are things that I like very much and wonder why I lived without them (banana bread, pilates, and jewellery for intimate places fall into this category.) And then there are those things that I try but that fail to grab me (liquorice, going to bed early, and doing drag fall into this category.) But I think it is good to push oneself and not always follow conventional / safe logic. Such was the case when I recently decided to halt my embargo on boyfriends and give it a try with a handsome 32 year old Thai gentleman and fellow clubgoer. I will point out right now that the relationship such as it was is now over, but it was an interesting experiment while it lasted. It certainly roused some previously forgotten sensations in me. Love? Who knows? Here goes with the analysis…

Let's say his name is Na. We had some fun at his place one holiday weekend and I enjoyed his confident manliness and the assertiveness with which he made the moves. As previously blogged I think there is nothing more attractive than the right kind of self-confidence, and I had seen him and been noticing that for some weeks prior to our meeting. His look is certainly striking and this makes him a successful ‘It Boy’ and business owner (he is a hairdresser.) What I had categorized as a one-time encounter then turned into more when, after not replying to his messages during the week, I saw him again on Saturday night. He looked at me in an intense way that immediately shook me. It was not normal, and as the music swelled in my ears I was drawn to his arms, body, lips. I think sometimes a mood or feeling just grips you. With me it is usually impatience, exuberance at work, or enjoyment of my friends. This time the feeling for Na was complete and consuming and it stayed there as we spent the next 24 hours together.

I’m not sure if it was him or me that first suggested dating, but it was definitely him that suggested I should move into his house. This he reasoned would ensure us being around each other to see if things worked as a relationship. In hindsight it was practically viable, but it meant the exciting dating part was lost. Had we lived apart and made time for dinners, seeing a film, or going for a walk in the park, then maybe we could have kept a lightness to the experience. As it was, co-habitation made things too domesticated, too serious, too quick.

Beginning a relationship is difficult for anyone at anytime. There had been a lot of time since my last ‘proper’ relationship and even then I remember feelings were less than strong. In the intervening year+ I focused on myself, getting better after illness, and getting better as a teacher. For the first time in years I was not one half of a pair and it suited me. I never felt alone or needy and I was not particularly resentful or bitter about those who had found ‘the one’. I had friends and opportunities for flings along the way. Then I was struck by Na, this great kind handsome sexy successful guy who invited me into his life. But, as it turned out, was reluctant to invite me into his heart.

Meanwhile my heart was wide open. And this is where the ‘lunacy’ of the title comes in. My new relationship unfortunately coincided with a set of problems concerning finances and a visa. It was necessary for me to borrow cash and take a 14 hour train journey to neighbouring Laos, stress about leaving/returning to Thailand, wait 4 hours for a return train in a nowheresville, then sit for 14 hours back to Bangkok. With little else to think of and little power on my I-Pod I started to obsess. Like I dunno… Ally McBeal. Yeah. Yeesh. Sadly all of this thinking manifested itself in an epic outburst the following Friday night. This is when I knew the relationship and I were not a good mix and, through no fault of his own, Na was not ready to commit with his emotions. In other words he was understating things and I was OVERstating dramatically. It is odd when your irrational Id explodes to the surface even as your rational Ego tries desperately to kick logic into the equation and stop the words spilling out. The upshot was he clearly (and at the time rightly) thought I was somewhat psychotic… I’m not sure what other Thais in the club audience felt as outbursts like that are often part of dating here…

The remaining time of what came to be a three-week relationship was spent avoiding everything but great sex which, of course, does not have to be an emotional act. At least between gay men. (My exasperated straight male colleagues and the new Sex and the City film inform me that girls are a different story.) Anyway it all came to an end quite peaceably and at my hand when I sat him down and explained why I didn’t thinking it was working for me or him. By a stroke of luck an apartment became vacant in the same building as my friends and this thankfully ensured homelessness was not a (big) issue.

As I moved out of his house a few days later we found upon reflection that we felt basically the same and had done all along. For various good reasons relationships had been, and should have continued to be, off the cards for us. But we tried and it wasn’t something I’d call a failure or a negative experience. We will not date now, but with emotions out of the way we may get on with what we are great at. And this could be something we share together because we still like each other a lot. I hope I’m not jaded, and the possibility of being with someone long-term might be a possibility in the future. I think a problem is that the relationship I have with myself is of paramount importance and still needs more time to grow. I enjoy my life as it is – so does Na with his life – and I feel the confidence and willingness to try new things is leading me in interesting personal directions. From 17 I found myself in long-term committed relationships and though these were wonderful, fulfilling times, I now feel I missed out on making it on my own and playing the field. I was also a lot shyer then and very much immersed in the mindset of social do’s and don’ts for relationships. It wasn’t necessarily oppressive, but had that kind of life situation continued it would have closed me off from the freedom and joy I feel living now.

So students, what did I learn? I learned that I am capable of feeling deeply and caring for another guy (I wasn’t sure.) I learned that dating a Thai guy means also dating his friends. I learned that I am somewhat selfish. I like my own space and schedule, and feel weird being publicly known as part of an ‘It’ couple. I need to learn how to be domesticated too. But most of all I learned that I still have a lot to learn. And that’s not a bad thing. After all I do have youth and looks on my side…

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again.

x Teacher

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-It Note - Exorcising Ego

Students,

A lot is changing in the life of Teacher just now. You may note that I am trying to find peace in my feelings and experiences as opposed to trying to find meaning in thinking and analytical reflection. It is what Thais and/or Buddhists would call ‘Sati’ – to remain aware with skillful attentiveness. This change in me also necessitates a change in the format of my blog. From now on the only drama described will be the amateur theatre opportunities I hope to pursue with a group in Bangkok. The mental drama I can see I have been creating with my unfulfilled life situation has to go. I will still find it is there of course but I will observe my struggling mind with its doubts and problems and not let it become me, my identity. I aim to live free of control from my own worst enemy and all its negativity. I think this will greatly improve my interaction with others and the world I inhabit.

When I talk of mind I refer of course to Id / Ego / Superego. Freud was certainly ahead of his time but now I believe that rather than simply identifying the way we are, he was actually identifying a problem common in our behaviour as humans. I learned a lot reading Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of Now. Even though his prose was occasionally overblown, the main theory that we as a species should relinquish control from our mind and accept what is if we are to find personal and collective happiness and balance is one that makes sense for me.

For the reasons detailed I am exorcising Ego from my life. I am guilty of saying things in conversation that bolster my image or score points. I think everyone does this to some extent because it is a symptom of a ‘dog-eat-dog’ society. It is not a useful practice because the satisfaction you get is fleeting and comes from a place of self-doubt and vulnerability. Upon recognizing this for what it is I have found it becomes very easy to speak freely, know that you could never be seen as ‘fake’ or ‘phony’, and also it is great to feel that you truly are at one and expressing your feelings.

The format of the blog will change so that the text is less ‘smart’ and, even though a lot of what you might call my ‘self-promotion’ is done in jest and for those who know me personally; I am going to be more open from now on and have less resistance to describing my feelings. I will cut back on the snark, observe, and accentuate the positives. Let’s call my 12 numbered blog posts a ‘12-step’ to recovery and acceptance and a farewell to the dirty mindedness of Id / Ego / Superego. Students, I hope you enjoy what is to come. I am feeling creative.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Stay tuned in.

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