When Your Head is Engulfed in Flames January 31, 2010

About midway through our bike ride as we glided by a grove of mango trees, and my helmet struck a low hanging branch. I had the sensation of being showered by a cloud of small bits of debris. In the next instant, my entire head and shoulders felt as though someone had lit a match and sent them up in flames. As members of my biking group screamed around me, jumping off their bikes and flailing at themselves, I recalled a time when I was an awkward pre-adolescent, living with my family in the isolated regions of the Philippine rain forest. I could explain how we got there, but that’s a completely different story altogether.

Fried flowers are a specialty snack on Ko Kret

My father was in the initial stages of constructing our house- out of a gorgeous, blood-red mahogany I should add- and had given my brother and I a monumental task: wipe out every bulbous ant nest that infested our lot. We took to it in the feverish spirit of ruthless conquest, and our strategy was simple. Machete in hand, we would climb the tree where the nest was located- many the size of two basketballs fused together- sever the branch to which the nest clung, and drag it to a pile where they would collect into a formidable heap to meet their fate. To be fair, we would take turns climbing the trees. Of course we would be bitten mercilessly, we realized this, yet that was the sacrifice for a job well done.

The plan felt exactly how it sounded- hellish. I still can envision in near-grotesque vividness the first nest. After several dozen bites inflicted while climbing up the tree (a gentle foretaste), I struck the branch with the blade. The branch glowed a dull, angry red. In the next instant I was glowing red, with fire ants swarming down my arm and into my mouth and ears, all consumed in a biting frenzy. Screaming, I hurled the machete to the ground and leaped out of the tree, rolling and shouting frantically at my brother to do something helpful.

However, we were not to be spurned, colonies of red fire ants or no. At the end of the day, we sent nine ant nests into the sky in the form of ash and oily smoke, and after the last embers had relented their glow, our pet monkey squatted down on a smoldering log and crammed her bulging cheeks with roasted ants.

Friends eating delicious banana roti at Ayutthaya

This is the thought I had as my biking partners desperately stripped off their articles of clothing.

The month of January went by far quicker than I remembered itgoing- I feel as though time has become subjective in its duration. Impending plans of the future stalk me in my thoughts now with increasing regularity, and like vultures impatient for the bleeding beast to pass on, they jab and jeer in an effort to hasten the process.

Knowing the end of school is nearing and with it my regretful departure, I have made it my objective to travel over the weekends, revisiting some of my favorite spots: Ayutthaya (The ancient capital of Thailand), Ko Kret (an island in the middle of the Chao Phraya river known for its pottery artisans), and next week will be Kanchanaburi (the location of the River Kwai Bridge built by WWII POW’s).

Grad school is the plan. I’ll be returning to the US soon after school ends here, spending a gorgeous few weeks with the friends I’ve long missed, and then heading to Europe for the month-long trip I’ve been devising in my thoughts for the past six years. After that, I hope to move into an apartment in NYC and begin my Masters in International Affairs. Hopefully, this is all an enriching process to a long and  glorious career in journalism (yes, I’m being tongue-in-cheek), but things always change. And I’m ok with that.

Any suggestions of where to visit while in Europe?

A New Year Eve’s.. Broken Heart? December 31, 2009

“So are you sure about these symptoms?,” the physician across from me gently asks, her meticulous English lilting slightly.

“Yes I’m sure,” I say, “Lack of energy, loss of voice, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, headaches. That’s about it.” I add the last bit a little sarcastically, but clearly, she’s not impressed with these; in fact, she even looks a tad bored.

Her eyes widen slightly. She’s thought of something. “How about your appetite? Has it changed at all over the past weeks?”

Finally, we might be getting somewhere: “Yes, actually it has. I have noticed I’ve been losing my appetite. It’s coming back now, but for a few weeks, I wasn’t hungry at all. Does that mean something?”

My confession seems to please with her and silently I rejoice, because from her expression I can see that she has discovered the source of my weakened state. She leans forward, her chair creaks, looking me squarely in the eyes she asks: “Do you have a broken heart?”

Suffice it to say, this is not what I expected to hear from a professional in the medical field.

Having been incapacitated for several weeks due to an unknown illness, even to the extent of canceling my travel plans to Cambodia, I had no choice left but to succumb to the inevitable: a trip to the doctor. However, the above conversation should give ample indication as to how successful my 3-hour stay was. Answer? Not very.

However, it is a sparkly new year now, all 12 minutes of it, so why dwell on the past? As I write this, I recollect where I was a year from this moment: dancing jovially on the beaches of Koh Chang, heavy techno beats thumping through the air like overzealous war drums, laughing with close friends who only days before were complete strangers. But travel does not afford the luxury of time in friendships, does it?

It’s been a good year- I’ve made friendships that will continue indefinitely, traveled to regions I will probably never visit again in my life. Opportunities have been seized, many lost; nonetheless, the sands continue to fall. What do we take with us from each year? I have wondered about that. Do the years begin to blend together into drawn-out stages because we fail to value each year within its own merit, or do we simply think not in specific time periods, rather, in significant events and so-called “chapters”?

It’s sad, really. This thought jarred me as I glanced through an exhaustive photo spread the New York Times did to document the decade. As I skimmed through the images my thought was, “Blast, I can’t even recall what happened in 2003!” Time, like water, flows and surges, reshaping itself into an infinite myriad of memories and instances- all shared, but only a few of its moment’s captured.

Let’s try to make the most of this upcoming year, shall we? As time’s water trickles past in one unbroken current, may we seize it, cup it to our lips, and drink lustfully from it so that it may not all go unsavored within our memorie’s grasp.

A most fantastic New Year to you all and God Bless!

In Search for a Haven on the Holidays December 7, 2009

Around me, birds of various species chatter and squawk at each other. There is a refreshing breeze that lifts off from the lake, reaching me here on the back deck of the place I am house-sitting over the weekend. Their backyard is burgeoning with lush greenery, vibrant flower bushes and giraffe-like palms, so that I can barely see the water’s surface a mere 20 meters away. There is a tranquility here I haven’t experienced for months and my only hope that it lasts long after I resolve to begin the tasks at hand.

The month of November glided by like a sailplane at night- quietly, yet ever so quickly. Not to say that it hasn’t been busy; it has, but I feel as though I have been focused on my school’s Christmas Program preparations so much so that I’ve allowed other priorities in my life to manage on their own, which we all know does not happen.

Early November was nice- I attended my church’s weekend retreat at the Cha Am Springfield Resort, easily the most luxurious stay I’ve had in my life. My 4th floor room was spacious, and its sweeping balcony overlooked the resort’s pristine golf course, rated 5th in Asia. The outside jacuzzi was definitely appreciated too, although I couldn’t understand what type of person soaks in steaming water that is only slightly warmer than the outside temperature!

It was a great getaway, and good friends of mine brought mountain bikes along with them, so every morning before breakfast we took an exhilarating ride through the outlying hills- great fun!

As the month nears closer to Christmas, I have grown increasingly anxious concerning how I might spend my holiday, with whom, and how it might affect to spend it with no one. My mom was able to come from the Philippines last year and spend it with me, a most-welcome luxury, but this year it will not be possible. When we came to realize this, it struck me that this would be the first Christmas in my life not spent with family, and not being a sentimental person, I was surprised by how much the thought rankled. I think that on different levels, we all yearn for the same things, but still essentially the same: acceptance, love, security, etc. Such event likes spending Christmas Day with loved ones reinforces these values within us. Due to how I’ve been raised, I learned to be self-reliable in many ways, and I because of this I do not have the urgent need to constantly be in close proximity with my family members, who are scattered through the world anyhow.

And yet, Christmas Day is different. At least for me it is. And for someone who is used to being on his own, it was nice to know that the deep-set yearning to be with family on Christmas still thrived within me, and probably will for many years to come.

The good news is that this blog does not set on a despondent Christmas Day for myself- a fantastic family who are good friends of mine have invited me to spend it with them; and once again the line that divides my friends and my family is blurred. Those whom we love and reward this love are family enough.

Merry Christmas to you!

By Boat, Bus, Train, and Plane: The Account November 7, 2009

Already one week of teaching has passed since my two weeks of travel through southern Thailand. I still remember the murmur of breaking waves outside my window, the crystalline hues of the Andaman Sea, the earnest conversations with individuals I previously had shared no history with. Though sometimes it feels more like a prior dream than past reality, it was very much real, and I have chosen portions of my journal entries to recount it.

Ferry Speedboat to Koh Tao

10/17/09

“My first image getting on the train was this: A pot-bellied African American, Jamaican t-shirt stretched taut across his burgeoning organ, bottle of Beer Chang in hand, bellowing out, “What the F&#@?” His name was Teddy, he worked for the U.S. Department of Defense, and he was going to be my seatmate for the next 10 hours.

The train ride however, was certainly not as dire as that. I soon became acquainted with a young group of Aussies, and we spent time till the early hours laughing, talking, and hanging out in the open space between the carriages..

On the speedboat to Koh Tao, an island well known for its fantastic diving:

Entering Koh Tao

10/17/09

..We came into port. Shafts of smooth volcanic stone shot up from the island as though outstretched to the sky. Eco-friendly bungalows needled out through the lush foliage, blending harmoniously with its pristine surroundings. Easily Koh Tao is the most beautiful island I’ve come across [so far].

Presently, I was able to find a spacious bungalow only a mere 10 meters from the beach for an astounding 300 B (10$) a night! It comes with a sweeping porch, hammock, and ideally, a desk. I think I might be in some sort of fantastical writing paradise..

10/19/09

My last day in Koh Tao was marvelous, I rented snorkeling gear and explored the island’s surrounding reefs, spooting fish of such electrically vibrant colors it almost seemed contrived. I also located a sunken cargo ship, about 15 meters in length, which definitely was a high point of the swim..

Traveling to Koh Lipe, a remote island far south in the Andaman Sea

Upon arriving in Hat Yai, I met Yanna, a Czech diving instructor and Anna and David, two good-natured Irish backpackers. We spent the evening walking around the marketplace and having a good time. Yanna adores durian (a notorious fruit that emits an odor akin to rotting meat), so o course she bought some and made us all try it- David almost vomited on the spot!

Sunset from my bungalow porch

10/22/09

Koh Lipe is breath-takingly gorgeous- crystalline wates, vast stretches of white sand beaches, the salt sweet breeze coarsing against one’s skin. I think I might spend the rest of my break here..

I must close with describing my bungalow, which I worked down to 250 B a night. The theme of the place is rasta, with bright, multicolored cannabis leaves adorning each structure. The room is small, and the advertised “personal toilet” is an outside utility connected to the room and of the most austere form, surrounded by a short tin fence for privacy. I suppose beggars, meaning budget traveling teachers in this case, cannot always be choosers!

10/23/09

The day was a full one. Alex (a friend I had made on the way to Koh Lipe) and I explored the island, stumbling across gorgeous coastlines yet to be marred by the aggressive development that has begun to ravage the island’s pristine spots..

Later on I played beach soccer with a lively group, meeting Moriseu, a friendly Italian chef on vacation, and his girlfriend Elainia, who is incredibly nice but hardly speaks a word of English- she just smiles when we’re talking, a very nice smile. Very cool people.

10/25/09

Today, myself and six friends rented a longtail boat for snorkeling. It was nice- the water was transparent and I was able to spot such creatures as the flute fish, clown fish, and even sea horses. One of the more interesting animals I caught sight of was a gnarly-looking scorpion fish; a sting from one of its vicious spines could send you into excruciating pain for several weeks.

Out For Snorkeling

The last stop we made was to an island inhabited by tribes of curious monkeys. They were quite bold, coming right up to me and greedily snatching peanuts from my hand, though fixing me with a wary stare all the while.

10/26/09

I finally caught a fish in my lifetime- and it was enormous. We rented a boat to take us out sea fishing, a worthy experience for any island endeavor. I enjoyed sea fishing, which consisted of lashing a massive pole onto the boat and letting it trail behind.

Shouting. We had been cruising for a good two hours when my pole began bending precariously. I began to reel whatever it was in, and this was no simple task. After several minutes of frenzied action, my forearms screaming in protest, it emerged from the water’s surface a fantastic mackerel approximately 1 meter in length!

Dinner that night was incredible. The manager of my accommodations, who had previously worked at a hotel restaurant in Bangkok for several years, prepared my fish for us, grilling fillets of it with garlic and lime juice over simmering red coals. Nine of us feasted that night, along with tasty fried rice and heaping bowls of steamed vegetables.

10/28/09

I spent my last day on Koh Lipe very unlike how I had envisioned it. Instead of renting a kayak and exploring Koh Adang (a nearby island which is entirely a national park), I chose to finish “Open Water”, a short story I’ve been thinking through for several months. Write I did- from 10 am directly after breakfast to 4:30 pm, not even stopping for lunch. But I’m finished, and the sense of accomplishment I experienced is enormous. Tomorrow I say my goodbyes to my newfound friends and make my way back to Bangkok, this time by plane

And made it back I did after the goodbyes were said, the salt-stained clothes stuffed back into my rucksack. It was a good break; I saw much and interacted with many individuals I hope to see again. Now only to wait one more month and December break is just around the not-all-that-distant corner!

Traveling as the Actor and Audience October 17, 2009

“The traveler’s-eye view of men and women is not satisfying. A man might spend his life in trains and restaurants and know nothing of humanity at the end. To know, one must be an actor as well as a spectator.”

This quote by the English writer Aldous Huxley reaches down into the soft marrow of travel. As I move through different environments while journeying, I feel somehow separated from the people and habitat I am amidst. Silently, I absorb both the magnificent and minute details as the member of an enraptured, disconnected audience. Traveling allows me this kindness- to exist and observe in solitude.

However, I ultimately agree with the crux of the late Huxley’s reflection, that to exist indefinitely only as one passing through allows no depth in one’s understanding of humanity, no gratification derived from those chance encounters that leaves one enriched and the more wiser.

In travel, there are stirring experiences to be seized, but there must be that balance between the actor and the audience or I fear one will arrive at their journey’s end with little to show for it.

With that being said, I plan to do just that-  travel by train and eat in restaurants all across southern Thailand, however it will only be for a mere two weeks and not my entire life. I won’t deny the thought has crossed my mind, though. I will leave by the overnight train tonight, and reach the “doorway to the south” city of Surat Thani in the early morning.

Apart from purchasing the train ticket, very little of my excursion is rigidly set, and I consciously planned it this way. It looks as though I will spend several days at the dive haven island Koh Tao, then I will travel down further south to Hat Yai, a city that has unfortunately been plagued with flurries of violence and the Thai government and Muslim insurgents continue to battle on. I’ve been told that it is a gorgeous city, though. And no, foreigners are not necessarily the targets of violence, so there is little cause for worry. From there, I plan to take a small ferryboat to Koh Tarutao, a marine national park that historically served as a penal colony for Thailand. It ceased to be this when, during an economic downpoint, the government stopped sending food supplies, so together the guards and prisoners revolted and escaped the island to Malaysia. Hopefully they found life less dire with the laid-back Malays.

Alright- time to pack. Be well in mind, health, and heart, and by God’s Good Graces you will hear from me in approximately two weeks!

The Thai Tennis Open and the Prodigiously Unexpected Stroke of Good Luck October 4, 2009

Everyone has heard of those stories. Or at least, everyone knows someone who has a cousin who had it happen to them. The unexpected stroke of prodigiously good luck which ushers one into an ideal situation by no merit of their own. My friends, I was that person today.

Bridget said she loved a good backhand, so I obliged her

Today was the finals match of the Thai Tennis Open, a competition which boasted several of the world’s top ten players (Nadal backed out at the last minute, blast him). I had previously purchased tickets to the final match with my friend and fellow tennis enthusiast, Bridget. These seats weren’t in the nosebleed section, mind you- they were a row in front of them.

Anyhow, we are on our way to the morning church service when a friend sent me a text that simply stated: “I have a surprise for you when you arrive.” We arrive. Sally, the brilliant heroine of my life at the moment, came up to us beaming and with no further adieu, hands us two tickets. VIP tickets. Seats so close you can almost make out what expletives the players murmur under their breath after an overshot. We love you, Sally.

When the Prime Minister comes out for it, you know the sport is a big deal

There’s no doubt about it- tennis is a serious sport in Thailand. In fact, the prime minister of the country came out to hand the trophy to the winner; quite an honor for any sports tournament. So long story short, we had an absolutely fantastic time watching the Thai Open in the covered, air-conditioned facilities of the Impact Arena, a colossal sports complex I never knew existed until today. The games exhibited a level of prowess and ferocity I had not experienced even watching the women’s singles years ago at the U.S. Open. There were moments during the peak of the fiercest volleys that I barely dared to breath, leaving me gasping by the moment of the victor’s stroke. As a dear friend of mine would put it- absolutely brilliant.

Like a well-played tennis match (apologies to those who despise sports/life analogies), the month of September has had both it periods of intensity and endless periods of volley. Teaching has been at a high point for me. I feel as though I have reached a level in which my students are consistently learning from me. This may sound like a strange statement to make, but when you teach you only become more aware of how difficult it is to have people understand you. Especially when their barely over a decade, crammed in a room with a dozen of their friends, and English is their second language.

This coming week ushers in the frantic studying and taking of mid-term exams, and the next is the last week of the semester. Although this cliche is well past being simply overused, I constantly wonder where all the time has gone, it only feels as though we began the first class two months ago! The end of the semester sees us off on our long anticipated 2-week semester break, and in my next blog I will give more details concerning my upcoming travel plans. To convey how excited I am about them, I will say simply this: I scrapped surfing in Bali for them. Until then readers, play a game of autumn season tennis for me. And win.

An Unsettling Use for Taxi Rearview Mirrors September 6, 2009

For whatever reason, it is not unusual to find yourself being inconspicuously stared at by taxi drivers. Being raised where I was the obvious minority, this is something which I’ve grown accustomed to over the years, but today’s ride was different. Every time I glanced up at the rearview mirror, I found the taxi driver’s gaze fixated on me, or at least the area around me- an unnerving situation, to say the least. This continued on for the good part of the ride until we came to a traffic jam. As soon as the car halted, the driver whipped out a pair of thin tweezers and proceeded to use the mirror to pluck out not one, but several nose hairs.

I’m not sure whether this explanation to his intense staring alleviated or worsened my unsettled state.

It is interesting to consider what is and is not proper etiquette in view of the public. For example, many westerners would hardly bat an eye to pick a pineapple fiber from their teeth in public, which for many Thai is fantastically revolting. If it absolutely must occur, most will use one hand to shield their mouth from onlookers and discreetly pick at the offending object with the other. However, I have seen many adult Thai pick their nose in public as commonly as I would swat a mosquito. It really does make me consider all of these standard codes of conduct I have been raised to abide by which, in truth, are not at all standard in the slightest.

Beyond pondering the idiosyncrasies of culture, September is already promising to be an eventful month. One project that has recently fell into my lap is both exciting and at the same time a bit demanding. The editor for a magazine I worked as an intern writer for in my college days caught wind of the article I recently wrote on the bleak living situation of  Mindanao evacuees. She has asked me to write an adapted version for their magazine. Any published material is a great opportunity for me with grad school looming around the corner, but I am finding the free time to work on these projects more and more evasive.

I was quite excited to hear that the Mindanao article will be very soon going out in print, and though I haven’t gotten a look at the layout yet, the photographer for the piece said it looks strong. If you’re interested, we posted a multimedia piece constructed around the photographs and interviews used for the article, and you can see it for yourself here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xw3EA3w58Mo

We created this piece as an effort to gain exposure on what is occurring in Mindanao and help initiate the dialogue towards resolving a desperate situation. Feel free to post this on your facebook or other social website. Although the actual article will be sold in print throughout the Philippines (which bars out access to most of my weblog readers, I assume) I will try to post up its link as soon as it goes online.

Biking and the Inestimable Value of Constancy August 25, 2009

Peering down the wooded trail to the intersecting highway, a sensation next to dread wrenched my stomach.

The leaders were nowhere in sight.

Last Saturday’s bike ride had been plagued with ill luck from the start after a first-time biker had almost collapsed over his handlebars soon into the morning ride due to exhaustion and splitting dehydration. Near the roughest section- a swampy trail I’ve dubbed “Monitor Trail” due to past bikers crashing into monitor lizards there the size of small crocodiles- I stayed behind with the gasping rider so as to let the lead bikers push on ahead with the understanding we would meet at the trail’s end. However, as we came closer to the muffled hum of daytime traffic, I realized that they were nowhere in sight. Still being 20 Km. from home and having only gone out with the group twice before, I realized that this could pose a serious problem.

Luckily, by identifying several unique landmarks along the way and asking directions in my poorly accented Thai, we found ourselves at the river ferry, carrying us over the Chao Phraya river and back into the comforting presence of familiar territory. What a fantastic way to spend a Saturday morning!

Biking has truly become a passion of mine in the recent weeks. I had lately been invited by a close friend to accompany his bike group on their 50-60 km outing through serene countryside and dirt trails, but always politely declined. I finally took him up on the offer and have been hooked ever since. In fact, I’ve even joined a spinning class at my gym in order to prepare myself for the weekend excursions.

It’s not only the thrill of the ride that I enjoy- it allows me to experience the genuine side of this fantastic country. The vibrant green hues of young rice fields, the constant flashes of quick-footed wildlife, the timid scent of banana blossoms- these are aspects of my childhood that biking has helped me recapture.

Beyond that, life continues in its rather unhurried, unchanging (yet ever changing) way. My sixth graders are great, though there are times that I want to lock them all in my large filing cabinet and conveniently lose the key. This feeling usually only arrives at the end of the day when the bell rings and I have to force them to get out of the classroom. It’s so strange- you couldn’t have gotten me out of the classroom fast enough when I was their age.

More personally, although I still undergo pangs of isolation and restlessness, I believe that I’ve gotten through the worst of this period. At least, for now. Sometimes I wonder if I really did make out better in life by being born into a family that lived internationally yet never developed roots, anchoring, whatever you choose to call it. True, I wouldn’t have experienced much of what I was able to during my childhood, but since I would have never known what I had missed, I doubt its loss would have troubled me much at all- and possibly I would have had a little more constancy in my life.

The truth is that I know I wouldn’t trade my life overseas for anything, especially knowing that some of my friends have far less stability then I do- and they lived in the same town most of their lives. It’s interesting though, to consider what stability in our lives actually is. I could assume it is simply familiar individuals that bring us a sense of stability; which is true, but let’s be honest- people have the potential of evoking as much instability as well. I could convince myself that it is places that bring stability, but I know (at least for myself) that familiar locations only offer a vague sense of constancy, and are definitely not a prime source of it.

When it comes down to it, my faith and family are the only two aspects of my life which have been present with me all throughout in some form, both in an undulating sort of fashion. Personally, I believe that finding stability has much to do with recognizing the things which are constant in one’s life, whatever they may be, and guarding them well. They are of inestimable value.

A Welcome First August 4, 2009

Over steaming bowls of savory Thai soup and spiced heaps of Som Tam (green papaya salad), I found myself for the first time of my teaching tenure being invited to supper with the Thai staff of my school. Truth be told, it was the farewell party of a much-loved Thai office worker who I had grown close to over the past year and I’m sure her insistence had much to do with my presence there. I was also informed by them later that I was invited on the basis of being known as one to enjoy hot food, so it pays to develop an appetite for the local cuisine I suppose.

Despite the obvious language barrier between myself and the rest of the farewell party, we had a fantastic time together. It was so refreshing to be able to interact with the Thai teachers on a level which is quite out of the question within the professional confines of teaching. They let down their guard towards me in a way I had never previously experienced , laughing about our school’s idiosyncracies and colorful characters (and I’m not necessarily referring to students), and ofcourse the customary who-likes-who conversation which is universally interesting.

Although most aspects of my life are bidding well, I have undergone a peculiar array of emotions in the last two weeks. Usually it strikes as simply an overbearing sense of isolation and disconnectdness. For someone like myself who stays fairly emotionally consistent, it is unnerving how vividly this sense of “aloneness” can strike me.

Recently I have begun to recognize that I have struggled with these sensations soon after my father died of cancer during my senior year of highschool. Since then (and for many years preceding it) I’ve lived a life of provisioinal housing and impermanence. Although a part of me thrives on this as allows me to move freely, I’m convinced that a softer, silent part of me yearns for the stability of constancy. I feel as though finding the balance these two things is a tight-rope dance between two extremes: those who never breach their limitations, sticking to only without what they are familiar with, and those who are always flitting from one interest to the next, never enjoying permanence in life.

Sometimes I wonder if this is what my life will entail- countless transitions and changes of scenery in search for some level of peace of mind. May journey have fewer turns, mine is beginning to exhaust me.

Firetwirls on Fourth of July July 19, 2009

Within the first hour of arrival, a lively 5th grade girl had split her arm open while sliding down a banister. Although I had spent considerable time preparing for the unexpected while organizing our school’s overnight camp, this was not one of the scenarios I had foreseen. Fortunately, five stitches later saw the student in vibrant spirits, and she was able to participate in most of the retreats’ events

During the two-day camp, students rode ATV’s, went paintballing, and ziplined from a 40 ft. platform down to a surrounding lake- the favorite for many of the students. For the most part, the camp was thankfully deemed a success by students and staff. In retrospect, I had a great time, but I am ultimately glad it is finished and the mantle of responsibility is off my shoulders. For this year, at least.

Much has transpired since last I wrote. Since mid-June, the school year has been underway, and I have made the welcome transition to teaching 6th grade, opposed to teaching only English class for three separate grades last year. My new students are energetic, eager, and incredibly funny- I’ve thoroughly enjoyed teaching them. A recent story involves one of the students writing my name out as “Mr. Chist” in math class and my instructing the whole class that I would answer to nothing but that interpretation of my name for the entire period. Oh, the joys of teaching young minds.

Another highlight was celebrating Fourth of July on a 5-day vacation with half a dozen other teachers on the enticingly warm beaches of Koh Chang Island, situated off the coast of eastern Thailand and Cambodia. While there, we were able to enjoy the island’s evening entertainment- usually fire throwers employed by the myriad of hotels and restaurants stringed along the beach front. It was mesmerizing to watch them fling and twirl kerosene-drenched batons with the dexterity and grace of Bollywood backup dancers.

The following day, we all rented out mopeds and explored several waterfalls that cascaded through the lush foliage of the tropical island. Personally, the apex of the trip came on the last day when I went out on my own and covered the entire perimeter of Koh Chang, discovering spectacular beaches that lay as detached oases on the sparsely populated eastern side.

Recently, we have been informed that the school would be closed for the next three days, due to an outbreak of the infamous swine flu among our own students. Although two of these days will be teacher work days, Monday has become an unexpected vacation and I am not entirely sure of how I am planning to spend it; however, I might take an early morning trip to the Queen’s Snake and Venom Center, where you may watch them “milk” king cobras and other deadly snakes, which they will eventually synthesize into a life-saving vaccine. I’ve always wanted to make the trip, but teaching has always prevented me.

Trust me- if I go, I will be sure to take photos of the process.

Be well and in good spirits my loyal (albeit intangible) friends.