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Disclaimer

 The following post is not intended in any way or form as an insult to the monarchy of Thailand or its common people.  It is merely this individual foreigner’s view of some of the less than desirable situations occurring in this particular culture, by some of its people and / or institutions.  

In light of the recent incarceration of several individuals within three Southeast Asian countries (Specifically Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore) regarding lese majeste laws or other allegedly insulting comments directed towards government figures, Islam, or religious leaders, and published on the Internet or in print, I am taking this necessary precaution before posting my thoughts and experiences in this forum, written while living in this supposedly democratic country.   

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As most of you already know, I used to work for Stairway English agency based in Hat Yai, an agency providing the services of native English speaking teachers to schools with which the agency has contracts.  I say used to work for them since I no longer work for Stairway English, something for which I am quite relieved. 

 

An Australian named Mr. Craig Hanks originally managed Stairway English, which was owned by his Thai wife.  I worked for Mr. Hanks for well over two years as a teacher at a private school here in the South of Thailand near the Malaysian border before he decided to pack it in and move his family to Australia, selling his business to a couple of Thai women. 

  

Mr. Hanks was very helpful to me in general but towards the end of his tenure as manager of Stairway, our relationship was severely strained due to his propensity for late payment of my salary or failing to deposit my salary at a reasonable time on scheduled paydays.  He also possessed the annoying habit of giving unsolicited advice in a know-it-all sort of way, often beginning his sentences with, “You should…” or “You have to…” as if I had no capability of thinking for myself.

Once the Australian fled the scene, the two Thai women (one of which used to be my classroom assistant) proceeded to run the business directly into the ground.  Suddenly money became a very big issue with them; a bigger issue than providing acceptable standard business practices, employee support, or upstanding customer service.

It had always been a tradition of Stairway English agency to pass out Christmas candy to the students in December, but once the new management took over, suddenly they claimed they didn’t have the money to provide candy for the kids.  In addition, monthly stipends dropped from 1000 baht to 500 baht, nothing in our classroom was maintained and requests for repairs or maintenance went unanswered or outright ignored. 

After a year working under the new management I asked for either a raise or the reinstatement of my end-of-year bonus that Mr. Hanks had taken away, to no avail.  The new owners stated, “Jim, you are the highest paid employee at Stairway and we cannot afford to pay you anything extra.”  This was all fine and dandy except for the fact I later found this out to be a blatant lie.   Not only did I discover there were other employees getting the same salary, but they were receiving yearly bonuses as well.

 

At this juncture, quite naturally, I began looking for another job.  I soon found a suitable one in a nearby province, offering a salary of 40,000 baht a month, a 40,000 baht bonus at the end of term, and free accommodation.  This naturally was an offer I couldn’t refuse so I answered their ad and sent them all my particulars.  They contacted me soon afterwards saying they were very interested in hiring me but wanted a reference letter from the school where I was currently teaching. 

The next day I asked my immediate supervisor at the school if she would provide a letter of reference for me.  She said she would but was upset to learn I was thinking about leaving the school.  I explained to her my distaste for Stairway English under the new management and the poor way it was currently being run, telling her, “Hey! Money talks, bullshit walks,” a little Western proverb she obviously didn’t understand.

When my supervisor finally coughed up the reference letter I had asked for (a week later and after I had asked for it four times), she asked to speak to me privately.  She informed me the manager of our school was upset that I was thinking about leaving and he was also upset with the performance (or lack of) from Stairway English.  She said the manager told her he had made a decision not to renew the schools contract with Stairway English agency next term, and wanted to hire foreigners privately, asking what amount of money I would need in order to stay on with the school. 

I had known for a long time that this day was coming since I had heard numerous times in the past that the school was upset with Stairway English agency’s new management.  The new owners had failed to provide a new foreigner teacher for quite some time after one had quit, but still charged the school the same monthly fee even though the school was operating with only two foreign teachers rather than three.  I had also heard through the grapevine (which in Thailand is a very big vine, sans grapes) that the school was tired of paying so much money to the agency and not getting quality service.

 

During Mr. Hank’s tenure, I saw him at our school at least two if not three times a month, even when there were no problems, just as a courtesy call to check how things were going and see if his customers needed anything and were happy.  In contrast, three, four, sometimes six months would pass without ever seeing one of the new owners at our school, and if we did see them, it was typically because there was a problem. 

I told my supervisor I’d think about the manager’s inquiry and get together with her the following day.  The next day I told her, “I will require 40,000 baht a month, a 40,000 baht bonus at the end of the year, and the school prepares and pays for all my visa renewal paperwork, work permit, and teacher’s license.”  I figured I had nothing to lose since I had already submitted a scanned copy of the reference letter to the other school and they had scheduled an interview with me for the following week. 

  

My supervisor then wrote the amount I had stated on the palm of her hand (a silly, pseudo-secretive habit of hers), showed it to me, repeated the amount, and told me she would present my request to the school manager and get back to me. 

“Please don’t dilly dally around about it because I’ve got an interview set up with the other school and I need to make a decision soon about what I’m going to do,” I added.

“Okay.  Hopefully I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

I already knew they would say yes since even if they paid all three foreigners a salary as large as what I was asking, plus bonuses, they would still be saving money.  I had made it a point to tell them this little gem of information in the past after my supervisor had entrusted me with the amount of money her school was paying Stairway English agency on a monthly basis.  A shocking amount indeed. 

The next day I was told everything was a “GO.”  I was to receive the amount of remuneration I had asked for, but (There’s always a ‘but’ isn’t there?) they wanted me to help set up an English program including a curriculum, necessary forms, foreign instructor contractual agreements, and hiring foreigners as an addition to my duties.  I agreed wholeheartedly since I actually enjoy doing that kind of work and I already knew that nobody at the school had a clue about how to go about accomplishing those tasks.

 

Mam was ecstatic over the news since she was worried we would have to move.  Three years prior she would have gladly moved, but has since settled into our private little compound out in the woods very nicely and loves living here now.  I reluctantly called the other school to tell them I had made a decision to work elsewhere, and they were naturally very cold towards me, probably feeling I had wasted their time.

 

In the months to follow (the situations above having happened around November 2008) I did an enormous amount of work for the school.  I put together a decent English program; did research on what materials the school would need in order to prepare foreign teachers visas, work permits and teacher’s license; worked on a new curriculum; prepared new documents specific to our school; and reviewed job applications from foreign teachers applying to our school, just to name a few.  My computer and printer at home were smoking from all the use.

  

Without a doubt, somebody noticed the ad I had placed on ajarn.com for hiring foreign teachers and eventually the word got back to Stairway English agency that our school was preparing to give them the axe and I was helping them.  In the interim, one of the foreign teachers working for Stairway, who taught Matayom students at our school, quit.  This was yet another example of the piss poor employee support Stairway English was guilty of providing.

Then, to my utter shock and dismay, about 8 to 10 weeks after I had begun to undertake all the work for the school, I was walking out of my class to go home when my supervisor saw me and casually said in passing:

“So Jim, the salary amount you wanted from our school was what?”

“Huh?  What are you talking about?”

“You wanted 30,000 baht right?” 

“What?” I said, raising my voice several octaves.  “What are you saying?”

“You said you want 30…35,000 baht a month right?” 

I could feel my face getting red and my hands beginning to shake, a sure sign I was going to lose my temper, so I began to reign myself in, knowing all too well my propensity for totally losing it, a scenario that has never once helped my situation.  So, I took a deep breath and forced myself to be calm and collected, which ended up failing miserably. 

“No, I – told – you - very, very – clearly - two months ago what I wanted for a monthly salary and you not only wrote it down on your damn hand (I was talking through my teeth at this point) but – you - repeated the amount again and said you would tell - the manager - how much I wanted, - including my yearly bonus.” 

“How much was that?”

“You know damned well how much it was (Now I was seething).  It was 40,000 baht a month and a 40,000 baht a year bonus, plus the school prepares and pays for my visa renewal, work permit, and my teachers license.”

“Hum.  Well, the manager is prepared to pay you maybe 36,000 baht.”

I knew I was being set up for a grand screwing. I was so pissed off I could hardly speak, but I managed this:

“You ****ing lied to me!”

“No I didn’t Jim!  It wasn’t me, it was the manager!”

 

“What?  What are you saying?”

“The manager changed everything.”

“So you knew all along how much I wanted and you were just now trying to manipulate me into accepting less for the sake of your beloved manager.”

“No, I…”

“No nothing!  I don’t like being lied to, so you can tell your damned manager that he can find himself somebody else to teach Prathom one, two, and three students.  I’ll find another job somewhere else where they don’t screw the people who work for them.”

“Jim!  We want you to work here.  The kids love you.  The management wants you to work here.” 

“Well, you should have thought about that before your beloved management decided to try and screw me, first telling me everything was okay then reneging on the initial agreement.” 

“I know, I know.  I am very angry with the manager.”

“Well, if you’re so angry with him, perhaps you might speak to him again and tell him unless I get the money I’m asking for, I’m gone.  He screwed me out of a job.  I could have had a good job in another province right now if it wasn’t for him.”

“We are supposed to have a meeting tomorrow.  Everybody knows that the manager often says things he doesn’t mean and my supervisor told me I should have asked for a meeting first to decide, rather than ask the manager.”

“It all sounds like a bunch of crap to me.  You people don’t know how to do business.  You need to get your act together.  You cheated me.  You got me to do all this work and then you tried to screw me by making me accept less money.  Well, no go.  I told you once, ‘Money talks, bullshit walks,’ either I get the money I want or I am GONE!”

“Okay, we will have the meeting and decide.”

“Also, the work you recently asked me to do?  About putting up another ad on ajarn.com to hire another foreigner?  Well, I am not going to do anything for you people again until I sign a contract for the money I agreed upon.  Nothing.”

I figured I had them between a rock and a hard place with that last statement since my supervisor and all her little cronies working at that school had no clue about preparing an ad for the Internet.  Not only did they not know how to post an ad, they didn’t even know how to word it since nobody in the school speaks or writes decent English.  In the very recent past I had had to write out instructions in numbered order just so they could learn how to get onto the correct e-mail site and read incoming mail.  Even then they came to me again, asking me to please go online to read the e-mail because they still couldn’t figure it out.

 

I haven’t yet met a Thai who could hold a candle to someone educated in the West in terms of critical thinking and deductive reasoning skills.  They are apparently severely handicapped when it comes to current technology, and many of them appear to still live in the ice age.  Linear or lateral thought is something foreign to most Thai’s, whereas many Western philosophers might construe this as fully acceptable (as long as their multi-processing abilities are used in a practical way), except for their total lack of critical thinking processes, crucial to approaching a complex problem in an intelligent manner. 

  

I knew for a solid fact that the school didn’t want to lose me since not only had I been voted, “The best teacher of the school,” back in 2006, but also many parents of my students had expressed their opinions to the school about how happy their children were in my classes.  I found this out through my wife, who knew many of the parents and often talked with them during her travels around town. 

So I walked away wondering when I’d find out the fate of my existence at the school where I’d taught for the past four years.  I was a little worried about standing up to the school so boldly like I had, since I was putting my job on the line and could end up unemployed.   But, anyone who knows me well will tell you that one thing I’m all about is pride.  I’d rather jeopardize my job than let my pride slip down a notch or two.  I thought about Mr. Hanks and what he would have told me (never suggested) and I knew he would have told me to bite my pride, something I wasn’t prepared to do. 

Now let’s travel back to a time in late December or early January when I received a call from a Canadian man inquiring about the job at our school after he had seen the ad I posted on the ajarn.com site.  Many foreigners had called me on my mobile, since like a fool I placed my number on the ad posted at ajarn.com.

I answered my phone and about ten minutes into the conversation, realized I knew this guy, having met him through Mr. Hanks a few years prior.  I also vividly remembered that I didn’t particularly care for the guy since, in my opinion, he was excessively sarcastic and extremely passive-aggressive (I’ve a degree in behavioral science, so I know passive/aggression when I see it).  I also remembered Mr. Hanks saying about him, “I only hear from the guy when he needs something.”

However, I knew this guy had taught in Thailand for quite a while and was experienced teaching Matayom students, so I encouraged him to come in for an interview.

 

I remember the day well. 

It was early morning when I arrived at the school to find the Canadian sitting at the local coffee kiosk.  Once I sat down with him, he didn’t waste a second dropping into his passive-aggressive / blatantly sarcastic mode and saying something smart assed to me.  But, I managed to ignore it and we sat and chatted a bit before my supervisor showed up and I introduced him to her. 

A few days after that meeting my supervisor told me, “I think he’s too old and he’s not good looking.”  Prejudice at its best. 

After four years living in Thailand I know all too well that a foreigners appearance is more important in most instances than their ability to teach.  If the guy is a total moron, but he’s slender, handsome and young, they’ll hire him in a heartbeat, irrespective of his total incompetence as a teacher.  This is a severe flaw in this culture’s ability to secure a decent education for their youth. 

I really stuck my neck out for this Canadian guy, not so much for him personally as for the school, knowing full well that the school needed someone with experience teaching Matayom students, or they would fall into the all-too-typical pattern of hiring foreign teachers for the job and then having them quit.  So, I referred to his resume and credentials which all seemed to be in order, as well as my personal knowledge that the guy had worked at two well-known schools in the area, to try and push to have him hired.

 

I spoke with this Canadian guy on the phone on several occasions since he kept calling me wondering whether the school was thinking about hiring him or not, saying he had to make some decisions about what to do, a reasonable request even though I hate talking on the phone.  I explained to him the position I currently was in at the school, and how in the past I had been careful to place myself in a good position with the school for just the scenario that was now unfolding; agreeing to help them out by arranging to hire foreigners, prepare documents, etcetera, in order to facilitate keeping the English program going in a way familiar to Westerners rather than let Thai’s get their hands into it, as well as put myself in a good light at the same time. 

 

Somewhere during this time our Matayom teacher, a German fellow, quit.  Shortly thereafter the Canadian guy called me to say he had been contacted by a British man who worked for Stairway English to fill in the position until the term ended in March, excited that he would now be able to work at our school and would get to show the school how he teaches so they might hire him next year.

 

The Canadian was perfectly aware of my distaste for Stairway English, as well as their sour reputation among the ex-pat community, so he told me he was only planning to work for Stairway until March and then would seek to be hired privately by our school.  I told him quite frankly, “Whatever.  It’s really up to you.  If you don’t end up staying we’ll just hire somebody else.”

Several times he mentioned or gave reference to the Brit working in the office at Stairway English, obviously somebody he knew from the ex-pat community in Hat Yai who frequents all the ex-pat bars, pubs and girly hangouts, and whom he was pals with.  He mentioned this ex-pat by name and I reluctantly said, “Yes, I know him,” opposed to giving any more information since by now, after having dealt with him for awhile, I didn’t trust the Canadian. 

I mentioned I was not on friendly terms with the British guy and made the offhand comment that he was working in Thailand illegally since he had no bachelor’s degree and it was doubtful whether he had even finished high school.  I also mentioned that I knew for a fact that the Brit had lied to other foreigners I knew or had met, telling them he was the owner of Stairway English (something I had since passed on to the new management) or was the manager of the agency, which he certainly was not.  All of this was information I was sure would be regurgitated onto the British fellow, but I didn’t care since it all was true and it wasn’t a secret that the Brit and I didn’t get along. 

It appears to be a common occurrence here in Thailand to run into expatriates who tout themselves as something they most certainly are not.  I’ve most certainly run the gamut of braggarts, drunks, liars, backstabbers and rumormongers from the ex-pat communities, forcing me to be extremely reticent when it comes to engaging with anyone new from the expatriate community. 

  

Since the Canadian didn’t have a non-immigrant B visa, I emphasized the importance of his securing one since our school didn’t want to have to deal with a foreign teacher who had to make frequent border runs.  But after several weeks of dealing with him, I was at a point where I felt it wouldn’t really have been such a great loss if the school decided to give some other foreigner a shot at the job.

Okay, now zip back to the time period when I walked away from my supervisor, angry that the school was trying to screw me, and telling her, “Well, I’m not going to do anything for you people again until I sign a contract for the money I agreed upon.  Nothing.” 

Within days of that nasty event I received the following SMS message from the Canadian:

-        Do you have a copy of the ad you put online? –

First off, the Canadian had never once sent me an SMS.  The numerous times he attempted to contact me; he always called me on my mobile to talk to me in person.  So why was he suddenly contacting me by SMS? 

Because he is a coward.

 

I’m not a prejudiced individual.  I usually give anyone I meet in life the benefit of the doubt.  But Canadians?  Well, I’ve come to a point in my life where once I find out someone I have met or someone I’m going to meet is from Canada, I automatically withdraw, becoming cold and recalcitrant, since in all my fifty some-odd years of existence, I’ve never once had a good experience with a Canadian citizen that I met in person.  I’m sorry to say that is a solid fact.

 

Only a total moron would fail to figure out what this Canadian horse’s butt had done.  Since my supervisor wasn’t getting any cooperation from me, she had turned to the “Old and not good-looking,” Canadian, who it appears wasn’t in the slightest bit hesitant to put the screws to a fellow foreigner. 

He knew full well what my position at that school was and he also knew what I had to lose or gain at the school.   But, he didn’t hesitate to sell me out when he had the opportunity. 

My SMS response to the Canadian equine buttocks, was as follows:

-        Nope, sorry. –

I never received another reply or response from him, nor did the Canadian donkey concavity ever mention it to me again in person, having met with me over three times since that initial SMS event.  

 

One day as I walked out of the school when my classes finished for the day, my wife came to pick me up and said to me, “Your supervisor wants to meet with you.” 

“What?  How do you know that?”

“She called me.”

“How on earth did she get your phone number?

“I don’t know.”

We drove to the middle school and met with my supervisor, who spent the first five minutes chatting away to my wife in Thai while I sat there twiddling my thumbs. 

Finally, massively irritated, I spoke up:

“My wife has nothing to do with my business in this school so can you please stop speaking in Thai and speak English so I know what the hell you are talking about, as it is extremely rude to do what you’re doing.”

“I was only…”

“I said, my wife has nothing to do with my business in this school so can you please stop speaking in Thai and speak English so I know what the hell you are talking about, as it is extremely rude to do what you’re doing and I will not tolerate your contacting my wife over business that you have with me.”

“Some things…”

“I said, my wife has nothing to do with my business in this school so can you please stop speaking in Thai and speak English so I know what the hell you are talking about, as it is extremely rude to do what you’re doing and I meant what I said.  If you insist on including my wife in my business then you will have to find some other foreigner in which to manipulate, because I will not have my wife involved in my business dealings.”

 

What my supervisor didn’t know was that I spent years training to deal with clients in corrections that were non-compliant or wouldn’t listen.  One technique we were taught to use is constantly repeating exactly the point you are trying to get across and never veering from that statement, something I used on my supervisor and which worked rather quickly. 

“Okay,” she finally said. 

 

We were sitting outside of a building at a small table.  On different occasions two Thai women just waltzed up to the table and sat down as we were having a heated discussion, with no tact at all regarding privacy.  During these times I simply refused to talk until they left, or until my supervisor asked them to leave because she began to understand I was uncomfortable having them there.  This is another example of the insensitivity and disregard some Thai people frequently exhibit towards others, either out of a severe lack of education or their perpetual habit of thinking only of themselves.  In the West, only a total moron would ever have thought of approaching us, most people inherently knowing we were having a private conversation. 

    

What came of our discussion was my supervisor trying to swindle me by getting me to accept a lower salary, at first, until I feigned getting up to leave, saying, “This conversation is over since you are not meeting my demands.”

After I threatened to go home, refusing her initial offer, she told me that after her meeting with the assistant manager, principal and vice principal of the school had transpired, all had agreed to pay me the money I had asked to be paid.

“Then why did you try to cheat me once again and get me to accept a lower salary?”

“You don’t understand…”

“Yes, I do understand.  You try to cheat me every chance you get, and you will do everything in your capability to cheat foreigners since they are not from this country and they have to abide by so many of your laws and procedures.”

“No Jim, we don’t cheat.  We want you to stay at this school.”

“Yeah, well whatever.”

I told her it was all very nice, but I was not about to agree to anything unless I saw it in writing and signed a contractual agreement.  I also told her, “You need to stop running to other foreigners behind my back when we are in disagreement.”  She denied (lied about) everything, saying she didn’t know what I was talking about. 

So I attempted to refresh her memory: 

 

“First off, you can hire foreigners and you may be able to speak some English, but never, ever, think for a millisecond that you understand Western ways unless you’ve lived in the West and have adapted to Western methodology. You expect us as foreigners, to understand Thai ways and comply with your cultural nuances, but you blatantly disregard our cultural habits.  

Foreigners will do one of two things where money is involved.  Either they’ll stab somebody in the back to get the money they want or need, or they’ll resort to the decent morals some of them possess and give you up for who you are.”

“Think about it.  You couldn’t get what you wanted from me, so you turned to another foreigner who possessed lesser morals than I do, to do your dirty work for you.  Unfortunately for you, the Canadian you turned to wasn’t very smart to begin with, ending up blatantly giving you up while at the same time trying to stab me in the back.  You, being excessively stupid, lied about your attempt, which only made you out to be what you are…a bunch of liars.  So now I don’t trust anyone at this school, foreigners or otherwise.”

“Jim, I…” 

“Trust is a funny thing.  As we say in the U.S., ‘Trust takes years to build and earn, but it only takes seconds to destroy.’  Thai’s wai everyone as a sign of respect.  They even wai those who are cheating them, messing with their wives or husbands, stealing money from them, or undermining them to surpass them in the business world.  In the U.S., we have a word for that.  It’s called hypocrisy.  In the West, respect is earned.  It isn’t something that’s bastardized like it is here in Thailand.”

All mud slinging and arguments aside, we eventually named a date in which to sign a contract for the salary and bonus I had initially asked to receive.

  

On the morning I was to sign my new contract, my supervisor approached me in a pseudo-secretive way, telling me in a low whisper, “The reason we’ve taken so long to prepare your contract is that your contract is different from the other foreigner’s contract.”

“Yeah?  And how is my contract different?”

“Your salary is much higher than the other foreigners, and the other foreigners will not receive a bonus like you will.  Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

 

“I don’t care about other foreigners or their contracts.  What I do care about is not having to hear about the difference in my contract and the contract of other foreigners.  Your comments to me, in that sense, are not only unfounded, they are severely unprofessional.  You have NO business, whatsoever, in mentioning either my salary or contractual agreements to the other foreigners, or mentioning their salary or contractual agreements to me.  What you need to do is look up the term, “Confidentiality” in the dictionary and begin to comply with that definition in regards to your professional business dealings with your employees.”

So, there you have it. 

The ongoing saga of my life as a TEFL teacher in Southeast Asia. 

Certainly not the norm, nor is it something which can be construed as “outrageous” in light of the constantly changing situation involving hiring of expatriates in Thailand. 

Some foreigners arriving here in Thailand end up teaching only because they’re interested in making a buck in order to finance their traveling expenses.  These expatriates usually don’t stay long, which can be harmful to Thai students who get used to “come and go” foreign teachers, and end up not taking English learning seriously.

Then there are other foreign teachers such as myself.  We live and work in Thailand and are here for the long haul.  Most of us are either married to a Thai, or chose to stay here because we can live a better life than we were living in the West.

  

Many foreigners living and working in Southeast Asia are a strange bunch.  Certainly not your typical individual you might run into at the hair salon, or Safeway supermarket in the West.  It takes a different sort of person to sell just about everything, reduce their possessions to what will fit in two large suitcases and a carry-on bag, and move to Asia.  Many foreigners living here were / are running away from something, or found life in the West to be unsuitable simply because they didn’t fit in with the “normal” folks back home. 

This is my fifth year living and working in Thailand and my sixth year living and working in Asia.  Despite my rants and gripes I do enjoy living here, but it’s mainly my wonderful wife Mam, our lovely daughter Miuw, and our wonderful, private, secluded home life that keeps me here for the long haul. 

-Jeeem-

This is a true story about one of the strangest things that has happened at our small, isolated, rural cottage in the forest.  Many strange things happen to us, but this one takes the cake, at present.

Click HERE to read about Teddy The Toilet Toad.

Hope you enjoy it!

-Jeeem-

The Flood.

It happens just about every year here in Southern Thailand.  Luckily for Mam and I, we're on pretty high ground.  

Check out my new post under "On-line journals."  

Or click HERE.

-Jeeem-

WATCH OUT!  I'm on a roll.  This is my newfangled, handy-dandy, fruit blog reference that I've added in my left column under "Amazing Thailand."  You can go there now if you click HERE.

This new blog chronicles fruit Mam and I have sampled here in Southern Thailand, and no, they aren't your run-of-the-mill fruits either.  Some of these are very obscure, to the point that even some Thai's don't know about them.  

Not all of them are delicious either.  Some verge on terrible, but quite certainly tastes around here differ widely.  

Some of you have read my past posts about the KING OF FRUITS, the DURIAN, with it's huge reputation of smelling like anything from rotting garbage to dirty socks.  Well I've got news for you, there are several Southeast Asian fruits that clammor for the prize of most stinky, and I hope to list some of them here, in my new Fruit From Thailand blog.

-Jeeem-

Just as promised, I've added some new content to this old, stale blog.  WEIRD BUGS OF THAILAND is my first new addition, replete with interesting pictures of some pretty weird bugs Mam and I have found in and around our home here in Southern Thailand.  

If you take a gander at the left column you'll find my new addition, "AMAZING THAILAND" with my new addition, "WEIRD BUGS OF THAILAND."  Or you can just click HERE to check out the weird and wonderful world of Jeeem and Mam's bugs.  

As I mention on this new site, I'm no entomologist, but if some of you who happen to surf onto my site are, or you know somebody who is, please leave a message and tell me the name of these bugs.  Wikipedia we're not, but it might be interesting to some readers.  

Thanks, and enjoy!

-Jeeem-

Mam and I finally had our home phone installed, so I finally have access to the Internet once again, but not without a major battle.

Mam and I fought a battle with the local TOT office in Klongngae, waged well over three years, dodging their corrupt dealings and negotiating different angles until we recently found a loophole in their so-called policies and jumped through it with both pairs of feet.

A few years ago, an Australian man I met here in Thailand once said to me, “Jim, if you stay here in Thailand long enough, you’ll end up going through different stages of either liking or hating Thailand, its people and its ways.” And I’ve found this to be true.

To paraphrase what my good friend Richard, who is from England, recently said in response to my complaints at having been severely cheated by the management of the Thai school where I currently teach:

“I don't think we can ever get used to this [the way Thai’s do things] but we can certainly be less surprised when it does happen. All I can say is always try to make sure you cover every base i.e. when someone (Thai) says something [in regards to promising or guaranteeing certain salaries or conditions] ask him or her to guarantee it (in writing). If they ask why you need a guarantee, it shouldn't take too long to explain that they generally have no loyalty/honor/morals when it comes to money.”

I’ve written before about the difficulties Mam and I had in trying to get a phone installed once we moved to Ban Klong Tong Nûea, from Soi three in Thung Lung, way back in March of 2006. At first we were told, “We will come out and install your phone within three or four days.” Then, after a week had passed, Mam called the TOT office in Klongngae, which proved to be a waste of time. So, she took a ride on the Songtheaw, south to Klongngae, to the TOT office where we have to do business in order to get a phone installed or pay a bill (calling them on the phone ALWAYS proved to be fruitless). Once she arrived, she was told, “Perhaps it will take a month or two.”

After a few months passed, Mam returned to the office and this time was told:

“We’re sorry, but it is impossible for you to have a phone installed at this time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this when I first arrived at this office four months ago?” Mam asked.

“Well, we didn’t know back then,” the woman answered.

Following this waste of breath, Mam was given some mumbo jumbo about quotas being met and being on a list and not enough numbers to give out, etcetera. But the real interesting part is when one woman in the office pulled Mam aside and whispered, “But I think if you were to pay about 10,000 baht, it is possible you could have a phone installed very soon.”

If you’re reading this and you’re from the West, you have to understand Thai people to understand the way my wife most assuredly reacted to this blatantly corrupt request to line this filthy woman’s pockets.

Although I was not present at the time, I have no doubt whatsoever that Mam simply smiled, gave the woman a deep wai (a symbol of respect) and moved on.

Once Mam got home she started complaining, but as soon as I went on a rant about wanting this woman’s name, and wanting to return to the office with Mam and see who this woman was, demanding she tell me her name so I could report her to the main office in Bangkok, Mam clammed up.

You see here in Asia no matter what the offense, it’s usually all about losing face. Losing face, for an Asian individual, is one of the worst things that can happen to them.

Eventually time passed and the anger subsided. Mam talked to our landlord and voiced our issues about the phone and the need to have the Internet. Together, Mam and our landlady went to the Klongngae TOT office and talked to them, coming back with a brochure about their satellite plan that offered high-speed Internet service for an initial 5000 baht satellite dish installation fee and about 1200 baht payment per month installments. A wee-bit high priced, but at least it was something.

I agreed to the satellite plan and Mam returned to the Klongngae office with our landlady to fill out the necessary paperwork. The office initially wanted a down payment, but I had previously told Mam, “No service, no payment.” There was some argument, and Mam got very frustrated with me, but I stood firm. Eventually, the company agreed to send their technicians out to “survey” our property.

Not surprisingly, a month passed and nobody came. So, Mam faithfully returned to the office to complain. About three weeks later, on a Sunday no less, a handful of very lazy TOT “technicians” showed up at our home, trotted around with a hand-held device held to the sky, and before I could even get my shirt on and get downstairs, they left. I asked Mam, “What the hell was that all about?” She then told me they could not install a satellite dish because there were too many trees around our home and the signal was poor. So, I said, “What about the water tower?” (We have a water tower to the south of our home, which towers above most of the trees at a good twenty feet [approx. 7 meters]).

At this point we’re going on approximately one year and seven months after Mam’s initial visit to the TOT office in Klongngae.

Mam returns to the TOT office and complains to them that their “technicians” spent only about three minutes at our home on that fateful Sunday, and the office assures us they will send someone out again to survey the area.

At this point in the ongoing saga, Mam and I neither one are holding our breath, lest we both perish a horrible death from hypoxia.

About two or three weeks later five “technicians” show up. It’s a hot, lazy afternoon, and three of the five of them immediately retreat to our tree shaded area where Mam has hung her hammock, which one of them lays upon, while the others squat and basically do nothing for the entire time they were at our house.

The two remaining “technicians” wander about our property with their mobile-phone-looking devices hovering in the air, all the time laughing and generally acting as unprofessional as anyone could possibly imagine. Upon their initial arrival Mam called our landlady to tell her that the “technicians” were here. About ten minutes later, our landlady’s mother shows up, as she is the one who actually owns the land.

The ‘pseudo-technician’ wearing sunglasses prances about as if he were whanńa (boss in Thai), which evidently he was, and finally he turns off his little “device” in order to talk not to Mam, but to our landlady’s mother.

Much later, after all the “technicians” left, our landlady’s mother tells Mam in a voice laden with contempt, “That man isn’t a man. He’s a freeloader and a cheat.”

The final verdict was no satellite dish could be installed due to the dense wooded area around our home. But, our landlady’s mother told Mam the presumed ‘big boss’ of the group ended up telling her that if she truly wanted a phone line installed at this house, he could guarantee one would be installed if she were to fleece his pockets with about 25,000 baht.

As it turned out, he and his little flock left abruptly once she asked him for his name.

This is the current reality of how businesses operate in Thailand, and this situation is a very basic one, actually.

There are more complicated issues involved and many hinge on whether or not you are a foreigner. Foreigners certainly get cheated more than Thai’s do, but Thai’s get cheated on a regular basis too.

One thing I find interesting is that Thai businesses that cheat or are corrupt in some way are absolutely mystified when they have to deal with a foreigner who absolutely will not accept their poor business dealings and are more than ready to report poor business practices to the proper authorities, demanding proper treatment, or punishment for improper practices. Such is the difference in third-world countries and the industrialized countries of the West.

Zip forward two years, thereabouts.

Mam and I continue to receive a monthly bill from TOT for approximately 127.00 baht. Mam takes another runner to Klongngae and asks them why we are still receiving a bill only to be told, “If you want to keep that phone number, you have to continue to pay 100 baht, plus local fees.”

So Mam reasonably asks, “What if we don’t want to keep that number?” To which she was told, “Well, once we install a new phone at your current residence, you will not be charged for a new phone number if you have retained the old number you had while living on Soi three.” Ha! Did you catch that? “…Once we install a new phone at your current residence…” Not only did that fail to answer Mam’s question, it implied we would eventually cave in and pay the outrageous fee they were asking in order to fleece somebody’s pockets. So Mam persisted and was finally told, “If you want to cancel your number, your husband will have to come in to the office as the phone is in his name.”

Thinking about it, I told Mam, “Let’s hold off for a bit and once again renew our attempt to get a phone installed. If things don’t work out, I’ll travel to the Klongngae office and put in the cancellation myself.

So, upon another return visit to this decrepit TOT office, Mam carefully mentions to the personnel at the office, “You have made it impossible for us to have a phone except for your requests by two of your employees for us to pay extra fees amounting to more than 10,000 baht, so what reason do we have to continue to pay a monthly fee for a phone number we will never be able to use?”

She also, in her own polite way, informed the office (after my repeated supplications) that her husband, “The dreaded Farang,” had compiled an ongoing list of the events we had been experiencing through dealings with their office, including names, [which was a fib] and was sending the information to the main TOT office in Bangkok.

Shortly after that brief showdown, the bills for our old phone number stopped, without the need for me to appear at the TOT office and formally cancel our old number.

Sporadically, over the next year, Mam made attempts to the TOT office for a phone, still to no avail. Then suddenly, she was given advice through someone in our village regarding a currently existing line on our rural road.

It seems one particular individual in our small rural village of Ban Klong Tong Nûea used to be the central phone manager. Mam and I had seen the “phone sign” hanging outside his house, typical of small villages that have no phone access. Years ago, the local villagers would come to this house and use the phone for a small fee, but as times changed and more and more people were accessing mobile phones, this phone “center” closed down and the residents failed to pay their monthly bill.

Finally we had found the necessary loophole in order to get a phone. In late December of 2008, Mam bundled up the wife of the man who had the old phone line and they took a trip to the TOT office where she signed the papers turning the number over to us. Mam was asked to pay a fee and was told, “We’ll be out the first thing in January to install your phone.” Upon returning home I chastised her for paying them money, but Mam said they wouldn’t take no for an answer and said they would not be able to install our phone without a down payment.

Well, as you can probably guess, January came and went with no phone installed. To put an end to this long and boring story, all total Mam had to make four trips to the TOT office, at one point actually confronting the man responsible for the installation face-to-face, telling him he was a liar.

But, as it stands, all it took was a quick call to the TOT office in Bangkok, where Mam got on the phone and told them what was going on with the despicable office in Klongngae. The Bangkok office assured Mam that the issue would quickly be taken care of, and….

Our phone was finally installed on the 3rd of February, around 10:00 a.m. Mam told me it took them all of about 20 minutes to do the job.

This is what it’s like trying to get anything done in Thailand, but I can honestly say that we’re learning from our experiences and one thing I’ve learned is to keep accurate records and report poor service. I sent a detailed letter to the TOT office in Bangkok, mentioning every little corrupt action and every failed promise to them. I have yet to hear from them, but from what I’ve been told, this situation won’t go unnoticed.

So, once again…I’m back, just like a hangnail that won’t seem to go away. And I promise to provide more interesting stuff for my faithful readers to peruse! Provided things work out and the IT ministry doesn’t end up shutting down access to Blogger.com, I plan on adding some new blog pages on plants of Thailand, flowers of Thailand, and interesting bugs and animals of Thailand. I’m also looking into uploading some files to Skydrive.live.com to share some of the files I’ve been working on with you, my faithful readers. I’ll have a homemade crossword dictionary and large recipe file up, to start with.

Cheers and thanks for your patience!

-Jeeem-

I recently attended a three-day training course in Songkhla city at Simila Beach Hotel, right smack-dab on the beach overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. The twenty-hour course for foreign English teachers in Thailand covered Thai culture, Thai language, professional standards, and code of conduct presented by the Private School Teachers’ Association of Thailand (PSTAT). Foreign teachers in Thailand are now required to complete this training in order to qualify for a teacher license and work permit, both of which are needed to renew our non-immigrant “B” visa.

Attending the training were about thirty-five foreign English teachers representing: Canada, U.S., England, Ireland, The Philippines, Zimbabwe, Germany, Malaysia, Australia, Belgium, China and Croatia. It was a rare pleasure to be able to network with some of these teachers from such diverse backgrounds, and I walked away from the three-day training with a fair amount of new ideas as well as a few new friends.

I didn’t quite know what to expect from the Thai culture module but found it one of the more interesting components of the training if not the most confusing. Our first presenter, Ms. Puthachad Sucharitakul, luckily asked us to address her as “Sheena,” which was a helluva lot easier than trying to pronounce her Thai name. She was extremely informative and thorough (as well as very easy on the eye), walking us through various sub-headings such as: A General Knowledge of Thailand, Thai History, Thai Politics and Governance, Thai Ways of Life, Cross-cultural Values, and Thai Arts and Music.

Topics covered under “Thai Ways of Life,” were the Traditional Thai Social System, Thai Nature, Hierarchical Society, Thai Smile, Thai Tolerance, Sense of Safety and the very interesting and humorous, “Trying to Do Things Even When We Do Not Understand.” I found “Thai Ways of Life” the most difficult to understand as did many other foreign teachers from the West.

Having been educated in the U.S., Sheena had an excellent command of the English language as well as an in-depth knowledge of Thailand from her life growing up in Bangkok. She struggled, however, to explain the more complex underpinnings of Thai life, and several times resorted to offhand comments such as, “I realize this doesn’t make sense,” or “…which is totally non-productive,” leaving many of us (Westerners especially) with the feeling that “Thai Ways of Life,” were akin to shooting oneself in the foot. But, having lived in Thailand for four years, I felt I now understood things a little better after attending this course.

The topic, “Trying to Do Things Even When We Do Not Understand,” got just about everybody laughing, since any foreigner who has lived in Thailand for any length of time has undoubtedly encountered this phenomenon. The example given in class was the typical case of the lost farang and the ever-present tuk-tuk or motorcycle taxi driver eager to take him or her to their destination for a price (usually elevated above what a Thai would be charged):

Farang: “Sawasdee krab. Can you take me to the Royal Crown Hotel?”

Tuk-tuk or Motorcycle taxi driver: “Hah?” (Replete with puzzled look).

Farang: “Can you take me to the Royal Crown Hotel? The HO-TELL, ROY-ALL CR-OW-UN HO-TELL.” (For some odd reason, we foreigners think talking slower and louder makes the person we are talking to understand even though they cannot speak English).

Thai driver (Smiling widely and nodding profusely): “Ah! Yes, yes!”

Farang: “Thao rai?” (How much?)

Thai driver: Sam sip baht (Thirty baht – High farang price)

Farang (Looking annoyed but in a hurry): “Hum! Okay (Replete with frown).

Then, after about five minutes of convoluted twists and turns through narrow streets and heavy traffic, you arrive at…

A department store.

Why?

It’s one of the more simplistic and understandable absurdities in Thailand actually. The driver had no clue what you were asking or saying, but rather than admit he doesn’t understand (which is somewhat akin to losing face) he takes you to some destination that is his best guess as to where you want to go, probably based on where other farangs have asked him to go.

Day-two covered professional ethics and was presented by Miss Woramon Chulacharit, who for the life of me, for the first five minutes or so, I could not understand even though she was speaking English.

Eventually I began to understand once I focused on her Thai tonal pronunciation of English words (Thaiglish), which for the most part, have no tonal sounds. That, plus the fact she was obviously nervous, spoke in a low volume, minced her words, mumbled a lot, and was not familiar with the use of a microphone. Outside of that, she was a lovely lady and quite knowledgeable of the subject she was teaching.

Tonal-Thai pronunciation of English is something any native English speaker will notice upon their arrival to Thailand, whether conversing with a Thai individual, listening to the radio, or watching T.V. Thai’s consistently pronounce common English words using their five tonal sounds, which in some cases can distort the word so much as to render it incomprehensible. Other issues include the great difficulty Thai’s have with R’s and L’s, as well as V’s and W’s. More about this later…

Miss Chulacharit pissed a lot of foreigners off when she waded into the realm of new requirements and standards for foreign English teachers, issued by the Thai Ministry of Education and Teachers’ Council of Thailand.

Through the years here in Thailand, one too many foreign backpackers and transients have coursed through Thailand taking advantage of Thailand’s lax laws and requirements, declaring themselves “Native English Speakers,” and taking teaching jobs in various Thai schools just to earn a quick buck in order to stay in Thailand a little bit longer, to finance their carousing and merriment; often terminating their employment abruptly once they feel the need to move on, oblivious to how this affects the Thai school or their students.

Many foreigners devoid of the basic Thai requirements for a teachers’ license or work permit (Bachelors degree and TEFL certificate), will resort to the act of enlisting corrupt services (such as can be found on Khao San road in Bangkok), available in most of Thailand’s major cities, who for a price will counterfeit documents such as college degrees, TEFL certificates, GPA statements, and even false passport and visa documentation.

Some foreigners have gotten into small scrapes with the law after exhibiting behavior uncommon to the respected profession of a teacher, whereas others have committed unspeakable acts of misconduct severely tainting the reputation of foreigners in general. Foreign teachers who don’t fall into these categories, sometimes offend Thai’s due to their lack of knowledge of Thai culture, hence the new requirement of the training course I attended.

Pedophiles, criminals, tax evaders, dead-beat dads attempting to escape alimony payments, etcetera, all seek refuge in Thailand, often applying to become teachers of Thai youth. It is no wonder the system needs a change.

According to the new standards, Thailand’s Ministry of Education now requires foreign teachers of English to provide the following basic documentation:

*A Bachelor’s degree in Education
*A TEFL, CELTA or TESOL certificate – (Teaching English as a Foreign Language)
*The PSTAT 20 hour course on Thai Language, Culture, Professional Standards, and Code of Conduct for foreign Teachers.
*A valid Passport and non-immigrant “B” visa

In addition to these requirements a foreign teacher needs to also supply a physician’s health certificate, several one-inch, full-faced photos, a photocopy of teacher credentials from a foreign country (if available), a photocopy of a letter certifying teaching experience, a photocopy of receipt for 500 baht as payment of Teacher License fee, a photocopy of a teacher appointment letter or an employment contract with the specification of the date of the appointment, a photocopy of Work Permit or documents certifying residence in Thailand, a photocopy of Teacher Permit Certificate (Sor Chor 11), a photocopy of Teacher Appointment Certificate (Sor Chor 19 or Sor Chor 18).

In addition to these additions, it is now required that the foreign teacher who possesses a Bachelors degree in a field other than education, complete a certificate course in teaching at a local Thai university (about 60,000 baht and currently only available in Bangkok), or pass a knowledge equivalency exam through the Teachers’ Council of Thailand (at the cost of 4000 baht and currently only available in Bangkok).

I’m not posting this information on my blog to be exceedingly boring, but rather to “pass the word” so-to-speak, for those who Google my site in search of information about teaching in Thailand, as many teachers are not aware of these new standards and requirements.

During our training, one Canadian man had this to say:
“I have lived in Thailand for better than fifteen years and I know many foreign teachers who are good teachers but do not meet the current requirements of Thailand’s Ministry of Education and the Teachers’ Council of Thailand. So, based on these new standards, many of them may have to leave Thailand. As such, Thailand is ‘Shooting themselves in the foot,’ as has been previously mentioned, and you will undoubtedly lose many good teachers due to these new requirements.”

After this Canadian man’s statement, Miss Woramon Chulacharit, who works at Thailand’s Ministry of Education based in Bangkok, agreed fully.

“Yes, you are right. Due to these new requirements, many good teachers will be lost, but something has to be done to correct the problems we have been encountering on an increasing basis.”

Nobody disagreed with her, however, a small onslaught of suggestions followed.

Miss Chulacharit went on to say, “A perfect system does not exist, so through trial and error Thailand will have to work to achieve a system that works better than the one currently in place. Meanwhile, foreign teachers will have to learn to become more sensitive to Thai issues and culture. All however, is not lost, and foreign teachers should not panic as these changes are only in their infancy, with many, many loopholes present.”

This was verified by more than one presenter during our training stating in a rather underhanded way, “Do not worry about what you have been told, as things here in Thailand have a way of being molded in different ways.”

Finally on day-three, our very humorous presenter, Ms. Sunee Yaleamyat walked us through Thai Language and Culture. She is both a Thai English teacher and a teacher of Thai language. Her performance at our training was very refreshing and interesting, interjected with a lot of humor, which kept things from becoming boring.

Individual foreign English teachers attending this course ranged from minimal ability speaking Thai, to near-complete fluency. Ms. Sunee had a blast tearing apart our Thai pronunciations, stressing the five Thai tones:

- \ / ^ v

She mentioned before the beginning of her lecture, “Don’t worry, I will not require you to speak Thai in this class.” She obviously lied.

We all had fun as well as a lot of laughs while our humorous teacher coursed through the class shoving the microphone in front of our mouths as we struggled with Thai pronunciation.

“Do any of you have a black hair dictionary?” She asked, evoking a host of puzzled looks.

“Do any of you have a black hair dictionary?” She repeated, doing her best to look annoyed when nobody took the bait.

“Are any of you married to a Thai?” She shouted, eliciting quite a few huffed moans.

“When in doubt, always reach for your black haired dictionary!"

At one point during the class she mentioned the Thai word for “hot” as in weather temperature, not spicy. Her version: “Rōn” threw me somewhat since I had always known the word pronounced as “Lōn.” Or “Arai?” (Meaning ‘What?’) Spoken as, “Alai?”

This she explained as, “Some Thai people have difficulty pronouncing “R’s” so instead of saying, “Ron,” they will say “Lon,” for weather that is hot, and consequently will say “Alai?” for “What?” rather than “Arai?”

Ms. Sunee is a powerful motivator as well as a good speaker. After having attended her class I resolved to begin some serious home study, keeping a notebook and practicing my Thai on a regular basis. Nong, my Thai assistant at work, has agreed to help when she can, as I can understand her pronunciation better than my black haired dictionary at home since Mam is from Issan in the Northeast of Thailand and her pronunciation of Thai is heavily influenced by the local Lao dialect she grew up speaking.

Phohm tong paw-lao!

-Jeeem-

Pets.

Most of us have them or at some time in our life have had them. To a greater or lesser degree they take their place in our lives, most often bringing us considerable joy and camaraderie.

A few weeks ago my close friend Jenni lost one of her dogs to cancer. He was six years old. According to a calculation I learned some time ago, that’s like forty-two in human years, if I remember right. Still way too young to die. Hearing about Jen’s loss got me to thinking about my Great Dane who died back in 1999. She was twelve years old - about eighty-four in human years.

Like my good friend Jenni, I was devastated by the loss of my pet and my grieving process lasted a long time. Even now, nine years later, I still experience sad moments when I think of her. I grieved more for my Great Dane back in 1999 than I have grieved for human losses in my life, including my parents.

Yesterday morning (Thursday, June 12th) Mam and I went through a horrible experience with the untimely death of our cat. “Cat,” our very original name for him, had been poking around upstairs in the early morning and unfortunately found the poison-laced tidbits we had placed on a piece of newspaper intended for the invasive rat we were trying to get rid of. Mam and I both, in a rush, had forgotten to put the poisoned food out of reach before letting our cat and dog into the house.

Although I was not as devastated as when my Great Dane died, I still feel a lingering sadness over his absence. “Cat,” was a temple cat. Dumped by the side of the road in a fertilizer bag with his brothers and sisters, in front of our local Buddhist temple about two years ago. When I first brought him home he was only about two or three weeks old and fit neatly in the palm of my hand.

Initially, Mam wouldn’t allow him in our house so I made a bed for him outside and fed him kitchen scraps by hand until he would take dry kitten food. Mam put on her best “grouchy face” whenever I would try to coax her into holding or petting him.

“I don’t like cats,” she announced, refusing to even acknowledge the cat’s presence.

Seemingly terrified by the world around him, he retreated inside the tiny ashbin of our barbeque grill, only coming out after considerable persuasion, and only when I had a delicious treat for him. He emerged a filthy, black smeared, ghostly grey vagabond with dull listless eyes oozing a thick green goop until I rubbed him clean with a moist towel. This act of kindness on my part was met with vicious little “puffs” and “fifs” from this tiny ball of fur, whom initially I didn’t figure would live to see next week.

About a month later I brought home a “temple puppy” that had undergone the same unceremonious dumping as the cat. Mam was much more accepting of our new puppy, with whom she immediately became attached. Meanwhile, “Cat,” was managing to survive quite well beyond my predicted week and ever so slowly began to win Mam’s heart, although she would never have admitted to it.

Puppy and Cat literally grew up together. The two of them seemed to sense their Buddhist Temple connection and became quite inseparable as the months wore on, playing together like two of the same species rather than much larger dog and tiny cat. Their bond was undeniably close, the two of them often laying down together cuddling and grooming each other. Eventually, Mam began to accept Cat into our house, but she drew the line at having him on the bed or on tables.


Our recent loss prompted me to write about the imprint our pets leave in our lives. Unlike human beings, animals appear to be so much simpler. By “simpler,” I don’t mean less intelligent, but rather the opposite. They don’t appear to possess the ability for harboring resentment nor live complicated lives full of worry, stress, hate, mental defects, depression or excessive fear. Their love for “humans” appears to be unconditional and I, for one, have learned quite a lot from my pets.

“Cat,” in my opinion, lived a fairly simple life. Every morning (except on weekends) I would wake at five a.m. and go downstairs to make coffee and read the Bangkok Post newspaper. Around six a.m., Mam opened our downstairs windows and “Cat,” would jump up on the windowsill yowling for “me” to come pet him (Not Mam, but ‘me’). After our petting “session” was completed Mam would put food down in our kitchen for him to eat.


While Cat was eating and Puppy was off visiting his neighborhood buddies, Mam would push our motorcycle outside. After the cat had been fed he would promptly exit the house and mount the motorcycle, sitting on its seat in peace until somebody moved him. We never completely understood Cat’s love for the motorcycle, but surmised that it was some sort of “refuge” for him. A place where he could retreat without being bothered. So, we began referring to him as, “Motorcycle Cat.”


During the day, if Cat wasn’t stealthily scouting the immediate area around our house for skinks, lizards, frogs, birds (especially doves, which he never could catch) and small snakes, he was either sleeping or hiding in some hollow of vegetation, or was roughly playing with his close buddy Puppy. If Puppy was gone from our house for a wee bit too long, Cat would begin crying as if saying, “Where is my friend?”

Now, when Mam opens the window in the morning, I feel a loss.

There is no more yowling for me to go to the window and scratch Cat behind his ears. At certain times I swear I see him out the corner of my eye causing a double take that leads to disappointment when I see he isn’t there. Today I thought I heard him yowling, believable enough that I went downstairs and looked outside. At other times, I could swear I hear the little bell around his neck dingling.

There will be no more poison brought into this house. Mam and I both have learned our harsh lesson. Meanwhile, I’m thankful for the joy and camaraderie Cat brought to us, and I miss him greatly.

Exist only in sweet peace my good friend.

-Jeeem-

Having worked in the medical field for over twenty-two years, being on the receiving end of medical treatment I am most definitely a self-confessed, lousy patient.
When they are sick, laypeople are usually the best patients simply due to their naiveté.

Roughly five years ago, while living in China, I began to notice some of the symptoms of diabetes, beginning with a poor healing wound on my right lower leg due to an Asian tattoo or muffler burn from a motorcycle taxi I had been riding. The next indication was a sudden numbness in my right upper thigh that I experienced during my first year living in Thailand. Next came intermittent numbness and tingling in my fingers and an occasional sweet smell from my urine. Then, about two months ago, I began to have a sudden onset of vision changes including blurring and difficulty focusing.

All these symptoms are indicative of Type II or “Adult onset diabetes,” however, being the lousy patient I am, I chose to ignore my symptoms until recently when I fell down the stairs in our house and suffered two deep cuts on my left lower leg.

My wounds appeared to be healing well but while Mam was in Chum Phae visiting with her family during Songkran festival, my wounds suddenly became increasingly inflamed and swollen. When she returned two weeks later I asked her to go to the local pharmacy and tell them I had a wound infection and needed some sterile dressings and decent antibiotics.

The pharmacist gave Mam a weeks supply of Cipro®, some sterile gauze dressings, and some Betadine® antibacterial solution. Luckily, here in Thailand you don’t have to visit a physician to obtain a prescription for antibiotics, so treatment of infections or other conditions requiring antibiotics is very cheap and easily obtained.

I took the antibiotic two times a day for five days and carefully changed my wound dressings twice a day. Eventually my wounds began to improve with a reduction of the swelling and less inflammation. About a week later Mam received the untimely news that her uncle had passed away during his stay in a Bangkok hospital for cancer treatment, so she had to fly back to Chum Phae for his funeral. She had been gone about a week when my wounds began to progressively worsen to the point of tissue necrosis and intense pain. I knew I needed to get to the hospital, but due to my lack of communicable Thai, I chose to wait for Mam to return.

She returned on a Saturday afternoon, looked at my left lower leg in horror, and within a couple of hours arranged for a neighbor to drive us to Rajyindee Hospital in Hat Yai since I was in no condition to walk very far.

Once we arrived at the hospital I was immediately whisked into the emergency room where a physician told me I would be admitted and would have to undergo immediate surgery for débridement of my leg wound. He then ordered the nurse to give me a most wonderful syringe full of glorious liquid via my I.V. tubing, sending me into unbridled, pain-free bliss, which changed my outlook on life in general, for the better, for at least the next four or five hours until I began to return to real life again and had to plead for more of the golden liquid.

That evening, around 7 p.m., I was taken to the operating room. I received spinal anesthesia, turning the lower two thirds of my body into an imperceptible bag of sand, had more glorious golden liquid pumped into my veins, and was returned to my room after only thirty minutes of surgery and a short period of recovery. My surgeon told me afterwards that he had to remove a sizeable portion of dead tissue from my left lower leg wound and also confirmed from blood tests that I had type II diabetes, which was the major cause of my poor wound healing.

This is a picture of my leg wound during one of my dressing changes after surgery. The nurse changing my dressing thought it rather odd that I would want a picture of my wound and she appeared a bit unnerved about it, possibly thinking I was taking pictures for legal evidence. I didn’t bother to try and inform her it was only for my blog posting, since I was pretty sure she would have thought of me as rather insane.

Mam, my own personal “Rock of Gibraltar,” stayed with me every day and night, sleeping on a cot provided by the hospital, right next to me and only left the hospital to return home for a couple of hours to feed and water our animals. While at the hospital she occupied her time taking pictures with our new camera and chatting with other patients, their families, and the medical staff on our Medical / Surgical floor.

This is one of Mam’s pictures of a beautiful sunrise taken off the small porch attached to the rear of our private hospital room.

Mam took this picture on the same day, from the same location in the late afternoon, showing the southeastern portion of Hat Yai including the large sign for Tesco Lotus Department Store to the left, a local Buddhist temple shrine in the middle of the picture, and Songklanagarind Hospital to the right, against the backdrop of the majestic mountain range in Hat Yai.

During my hospitalization I was assigned two physicians, the surgeon who debrided my wound and an internal medicine physician who managed my diabetes.

Normal blood sugar levels typically range from 80 to 120 deciliters per milliliter (Depending on individual laboratory specs) in a person without diabetes.

My initial blood sugar upon admission to the hospital was 328 dl/ml.

A wee bit high.

High blood sugar in a type II diabetic such as myself is due primarily to the pancreas failing to produce enough insulin. Insulin is a hormone that functions in the regulation and metabolism of carbohydrates (sugars, starches, etc.) fats, and proteins.

Basically, insulin is the key that unlocks the doors in bodily cells to allow sugar to enter and become metabolized (broken down to produce life sustainable energy). So, if you have a severe insufficiency of insulin (Type I diabetes) or a mild insufficiency of insulin (Type II diabetes) your body isn’t getting the energy it needs, roughly speaking.

In my case, (Type II diabetes) my condition can be managed by taking oral hypoglycemic pills, managing my blood sugar levels by sticking to a regimented low calorie and low fat diet, or a combination of both. Currently, my blood sugar is being regulated by both methods.

Taking pills is easy but sticking to a low fat low calorie diet, for me, is utter hell on earth.

My diet while in the hospital was bland, virtually tasteless and barely tolerable. Not to mention the fact that the dietary staff had very little experience in cooking for a foreigner.

My first breakfast consisted of a bowl of soupy, semi-solid, porridge-like barf-olla that smelled strongly of fish and even had fish chunks swimming in it. I poked, sniffed, and prodded at it while making the most disgusting-looking face I could muster when Mam grew impatient and told me what it was in Thai, which naturally made no sense to me.

“I can’t eat anything for breakfast that even remotely smells like fish,” I told her. (A bit of a white lie since I’ve eaten cold, stale pizza smothered in anchovies in the wee hours of the morning many, many times during my early to late teens.)
So, my wonderful wife scarfed up my breakfast while I partook in a couple bags of complimentary potato chips that were in my greeting basket located in the hospital room, along with a can of pineapple juice and a can of mango juice located in our small, in-room refrigerator.

Lunch wasn’t much better and dinner was unspeakable.

It only took two or three days of this before I conned (sweet-talked, coaxed, soft-soaped, cajoled, wheedled, buttered-up) Mam into taking a short stroll over to Diana Shopping Mall (Actually visible from the south wing of the hospital) to purchase a small, infinitesimal amount of real healthy food from:

Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken.

In particular:
A large, supreme pan pizza (thick crust, hold the pineapple), an order of garlic bread smothered… uh, slightly laced with butter, garlic, and thick, melted, mozzarella cheese. Six pieces of deep fried…uh, lightly broiled, spicy chicken pieces with natural, organic, non-denominational, thin, cosmopolitan potato slices of the “super-size” category, lightly seasoned with uh, organic sea salt. Along with various, naturally low-calorie, cardboard flavored complimentary condiments.

Now I was happy.

But, my Internal Medicine physician was not happy. He could not, for the life of him, understand why my blood sugar had gone through the roof, after eating such low-fat, low-calorie foods as the hospitals dietary department was providing for me.

Damned if I knew.

“Have you been eating foods other than what the dietary department is providing?” He asked me.

“The hospital dietary department is trying very hard to try and satisfy my taste for foods common to foreigners, and I am trying very hard to comply with their efforts,” I weakly responded, being partly truthful, and obviously not answering his question.
Luckily, he did not pursue his inquiry or I would have had to fess-up to partaking of the quasi-healthful, curiously nutritional, inconsistently caloric, and delectable food I had been consuming on the sly.

I played this cat and mouse game with him infrequently since I quickly worked out the hospitals schedule for fasting blood sugar tests and cheated accordingly. But in the bitter end I came to realize that it was in my best interest to fulfill my proper dietary prescription if I wanted my leg to heal properly.

My boredom while being hospitalized so long was broken by being able to watch True Visions cable T.V. I quite literally ate up Star Movies on a daily, if not hourly basis. I also received a surprise visit by two of my students who discovered I was in the hospital room adjacent to their father who was hospitalized due to having surgery for an inguinal hernia. Here is a picture of one of them, the boy, whose sister was a bit camera shy.


Finally, I was able to convince both my physicians that I was ready to go home after two weeks and two days, most of which my health insurance covered except for 89 baht, the equivalent of a little more than two dollars U.S., due to my consumption of the two bags of complimentary chips and two cans of fruit juice in my room.

Try and beat that with your local HMO plan!

I’m back to work now and recovering fairly well. However, I still have a sizeable wound on my left lower leg, the lower portion of which still has about a nickel sized area of exposed bone. I dress my wound everyday, twice a day and take my medication religiously, hoping to see improvement soon.

I have a standing appointment with my surgeon every Saturday morning and he examines and evaluates my wound site, mostly telling me things are looking good, but stressing that the exposed bone will have to be covered with tissue until he can further predict whether or not I will need to have a skin graft or not. But beyond that, I’m optimistic since I have no more leg numbness, no numbness and tingling in my fingers, no sweet smell to my urine, and my vision problems have greatly improved.

-Diabetic Jeeem-

Hello everybody!

I'm publishing this post from my usual Internet Cafe in Hat Yai.

I've been trying to post to my blog for well over two weeks now, but only lately found out that Thailand's Government is now pulling the same gag as when I was living in China, and blocking access to Blogger.com. So, I've managed to enter Blogger.com through a back door but have lost all the "buttons" that gave me the capability to post pictures, etc., so until I figure out a way to better access this site, or our new paranoid government decides to lift the blocks on sites such as this one and begin allowing us to have some freedom, I'm going to be severely handicapped in my postings.

My "New" news was a rather large posting I had prepared (complete with pictures) regarding my recent hospitalization.

In a nut shell, I had a minor accident at home which graced me with a couple of left lower leg wounds, which after some time became severely infected to the point of tissue necrosis. I ended up in the hospital, had surgery for debridement of my wounds, and was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.

Turns out I was having symptoms of diabetes all along, but having had considerable medical training in my past life and being a terrifically lousy patient, I chose to ignore these symptoms, which led to my infected, poor healing wounds.

After two weeks and two days in the hospital, I am finally home and also back to work, but I have to come to Hat Yai every Saturday morning to Rajyindee Hospital so my surgeon can check my wound and my Internal Medicine physician can manage my diabetes.

I still have a baseball sized open wound on my left lower leg, with about a dime sized area of bone exposed. I change my own dressings twice daily and my surgeon is waiting for the tissue to completely cover the bone before he makes a decision whether or not to do a skin graft.

Hopefully I'll post more later and will keep checking to see if the Thai government has come to their senses.

-Jeeem-