This is a funny Bizzaro© cartoon I found in Bangkok Post's Sunday edition last Sunday.  

It's so true and clever.  That's exactly how Aussie's sound!


-Jeeem-

November 2, 2009… It’s that time of year again here in Thailand, with the celebration of the favored holiday, Loi Krathong.

(My apologies since I’m late in posting this, but Blogger.com had a glitch preventing me from uploading photos)

I’ve posted about Loi Krathong before, but thought I’d do it again simply since it’s a big deal to my wife Mam, who really gets into this stuff…being Thai and all.

Mam approached me at my computer desk yesterday afternoon and presented her Krathong for my approval. I always think they are a work of art, but she’s very critical of her work and really wants to know what I think, so I put on a show of looking at it for a long time with that “critical” look on my face as if I was really scrutinizing it carefully.

“Well…

(I said at last, with an exasperated tone for effect)

“I think it is truly one of your best.”

Then I went on to explain why.

Well, she didn’t fall for it, since she remembered the one from last year, which she stated had much more detail, and according to her, was far superior to this year’s creation.

Ah well, I’m busted.

“Well, I really do love it!” I said. To which she added, “You always say that.”

Ah well…

So what was different this time?

This time I pulled her aside and asked her…

“Mam, I want to put something about Loi Krathong on my blog. Can you tell me simply, what Loi Krathong is all about?”

“Huh?”

I wasn’t sure if this was a language issue, or she just didn’t get it, so I got more specific.

“If I do a search online for ‘Loi Krathong’ it comes up with about three hundred twenty-nine thousand, nine hundred and forty two possible websites that have something to do with the subject Loi Krathong and most of it is just a complicated mish mash of Buddhist stuff that I don’t want to bother with posting on my blog.”

Can you simplify it?”

“Well, Loi Krathong about…you know…’Wai’ (hands held together in front of face in prayer gesture) for water. Uh, like pray to water for being good to us [sic].”

“Ah…okay. So it’s like you are praying…or giving homage (alms of a sort) to the water god or something like that.”

“Yes, but also to let go all bad things about you.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“You remember last year I clip your toenails, fingernails and clip hairs from your chest?”

“Yes.”

“That for water god to take away bad things about you.”

“Oh, I get it. Like cleansing (cleaning) yourself of problems?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Ok. Thank you Mam. You’ve really helped.”

The thing here, dear readers, is my exact point. You can ask several Thai’s the same question and get many different answers. It means many different things to many different people. Like many ancient celebrations or events (regarding anything…hum…Christmas comes to mind…in any part of the world), things have gotten a bit distorted over the centuries.

So, I’ll leave it up to you to do some research on your own (if you so choose). For a start, you can go HERE to the Wikipedia site, which tends to be a bit confusing, but supposedly is fairly accurate.

Me? I’ve done the research, and have found that after you read one website that spouts on and on about Buddhist history (which is a tad confusing in and of itself), you’ll end up reading another that says absolutely nothing about the Buddhist religion and only touts extensive information about water worship, forgiveness, and letting go of deceit.

Like much of life, things just get watered down after a couple decades or so…

To many foreigners living or vacationing here in Thailand, it’s a fun time to enjoy learning how to make a Krathong, taking their Krathong on Loi Krathong day to a river or some body of water, making some sort of wish similar to the falling star thingy, lighting the candle and incense, and placing your Krathong in the water, watching as it sails away.

Naturally, this has been going on for a long, long time here in Thailand, but of late there has been a big push to fashion your Krathong out of some sort of organic material that won’t end up harming the environment.

The base of the Krathong is typically made of a sliced section of banana trunk. Then you just build upon that, wrapping it in banana leaf an adding folded sections of leaf for effect, kinda like how they fold napkins in fancy hotels. Many things are used to hold everything together, but Mam usually uses either the thorns off our sour orange tree, or toothpicks. Add some flowers, a couple candles, some incense sticks and you’re good to go!

Once your Krathong is in the water and your wishes are headed toward the God of Water, if you take a little jaunt down stream a bit, you’ll undoubtedly see a large group of Thai kids who have formed some sort of dam in the river and are rummaging through the Krathong, looking for money and the like. Many people place coins or paper money on their Krathong as part of the “offering,” however this practice appears to be waning lately, probably because people don’t want to contribute to some kid’s candy money.

After the floating off of your Krathong, it is then unofficially part of the celebration to proceed in drinking loads of beer, shooting off massive amounts of fireworks, eating hoards of Thai food, and ending up at some party singing Karaoke until the wee hours of the morning.

I wonder…How much of that stuff occurred centuries ago?

Probably a lot is my guess.

Every year, my classes are skimpy after Loi Krathong since many of the kids who do show up are brain dead the next day since they stayed awake all night listening to their parents drunkenly sing to some Karaoke teleprompter.

-Jeeem-

I’ve never been one addicted to sports. 

I have early memories of my father sitting in front of the T.V. for hours at a time screaming at the top of his lungs over a baseball or football game.  I just was never that interested in sports.   

In school I played sports like everyone else, but was never good at much of anything until I picked up a tennis racket one summer, somewhere around 1973.

In my junior year of high school my coach placed me on the varsity tennis team after I had participated in a tennis camp the previous summer.  I quickly rose in the ranks until I had beaten the top sixth seed on the team, quite an accomplishment for me, one who had never excelled at sports. 

I remember well, the girls coming out of the woodwork to flirt with me.  They weren’t interested in me so much as they were interested in dating a sports figure.   

My glory while on the varsity tennis team didn’t last though, as I quickly lost interest and dropped in the rankings to something like number 56, eventually refusing to suit up and weeks later just not showing up for practice, spoiling my chances for lettering.

Now, at age 54, nothing much has changed except I do enjoy watching soccer on T.V. with my wife.  She goes nuts over the games, but I remain only mildly interested.   

The one thing about sports that has always managed to catch my interest is when sports figures get into trouble.  It’s typically the highly paid professional sports figures, those making astronomical dollar figures, who get nabbed doing drugs, selling drugs, getting into gang fights, investing in illegal gambling, etcetera.  Heads hung low, they exit the court room in handcuffs, sent off to prison for something that could easily have been avoided, their highly paid careers ruined. 

The news is full of announcements heralding unbelievable amounts of money being paid for a transfer to a new team with deep pockets.  Suddenly, a kid who played high school ball and whose acne hasn’t even cleared up yet, is catapulted into bankrolls reaching into the millions and multi-millions. 

Christiano Ronaldo is twenty-four years old.  He recently received one hundred thirty million dollars for his transfer to Real Madrid.  Above and beyond that, his yearly salary amounts to a cool 12.3 million, not to mention his numerous endorsements. 

Frankly…that pisses me off.   

The world is screaming “Economy!  Economy!” but the sports world doesn’t appear to be screaming anything, other than "More money!  More Money!" 

Every day I see neighborhoods wrought with poverty here in Southern Thailand, yet families living in run down housing sit around their small T.V. (If they even have a T.V.), and watch commercials featuring the likes of Christiano Ronaldo telling everyone that he uses such-and-such a product.  Quite honestly that disgusts me. 

My dad used to say, “If something bugs you son, don’t bitch about it, write about it!”

So, that’s what I’m gonna do. 

I recently googled “Highest paid American sports figures,” and clicked on the following link:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/more/specials/fortunate50/2008/index.5.html

It was mentioned on the website that current salaries and endorsements were used (exception: 2008 for NFL), except in the case of winnings (auto racing, golf, tennis) where 2007 calendar year amounts were used. 

Attached is a breakdown of the salaries for each of the fifty players (Whose names I didn't include, but who represent auto racing, golf, tennis, the NFL and NBA, baseball, and boxing).  Click HERE to take a look at the figures or to check my math.


The total was a breath-taking…

$807,015,670

Eight hundred seven million, fifteen thousand, six hundred seventy dollars!  That is enough money to pull a small, poverty stricken country out of the hole!  And that's only fifty players. 

How many professional sports figures are there in the U.S.?

Answer:  Approximately four million.

You do the math. 

So, here's my proposal…

Order an immediate cap on all professional sports salaries.  Let’s give them...oh, say about the same salary a postal worker makes in the U.S. 

They get to keep their winnings (if applicable) but let’s put a cap on that too.  Something reasonable like say five thousand dollars or so (Sorry Tiger..).    

No millions, no hundred thousands, just five thousand. 

The only thing we don’t mess with is their endorsements.  If the ad companies want to pay them some ungodly amount of money, let them go for it.  Heck, if you look at somebody like Tom Brady of the NFL, his salary is a paltry eight million, whereas his endorsements total more than ten million. 

Then get somebody in the government, somebody good at accounting, to figure out the difference.  Then take that money and spread the wealth around.  Don’t tax it, don’t fiddle with it, no strings attached, just dole it out to those who need it, like soup kitchens, homeless shelters, volunteer agencies…let your imagination run. 

In my humble opinion, that money would be much better spent instead of being in the hands of some immature, often irresponsible ego-maniac who’s only going to end up sucking on a bong, or fighting dogs illegally, or jamming steroids up his or her butt. 

Oh, and if the players don’t like it?  Let them quit.  There will always be somebody in line behind them, just waiting for the opportunity to get a try out!

-Jeeem-

Some unsolicited advice:

Never attempt to repair something while drinking alcohol....

More specifically, Beer Chang from Thailand (6.4% by volume)....

This is my wife’s good shoe.     

Mam and I were headed home on our motorcycle after a long morning shopping in Hat Yai.  We had just turned onto the kilometer long (0.62 miles) road bordered on both sides by a huge rubber tree plantation heading to Klong Tong Nûea Buddhist Priest Residence and Meditation Center, and our small village of Klong Tong Nûea, when suddenly a large tree branch fell directly into our path. 

Mam tried to react quickly but ended up over-steering and we crashed onto the dirt and gravel road.  We really weren’t going that fast since we’d just turned onto the road and were only in second gear, but the result was damaging all the same.  

Mam got pretty scunned up, and broke the heel off her right shoe.   I got the worst of it, gouging out a big hunk of skin and tissue from my left lower leg, which ended up pretty bloody. 

Once we go home and washed up, everything was okay.  Mam is still a little sore, but she’ll live, and me…I dressed my leg wound and I’ll live too.  

Once I recovered sufficiently, I cracked open a Beer Chang, followed by another and possibly even another and…well, who knows.   

Anyway, at some point I had the bright idea that I could fix that broken shoe so I grabbed the hammer, some super glue, a screwdriver and all the professional tools a jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none like me would need, and this is the result…

Once finished I stood back to admire my work and…began laughing hopelessly.  In fact, I thought I’d never stop laughing. 

Once Mam came over to see what I was laughing at, she too began laughing.  If anybody had come around our cottage at that particular time, they surely would have thought we’d gone mad.  

Next time (should there be a next time), I’ll fix the shoe first, then crack open the beer to celebrate!

-Jeeem-

Typical evening at the Anderson’s…Mam and I are upstairs in our bedroom watching T.V. Suddenly we hear a loud noise on our roof. Our roof is corrugated steel so even the slightest stimulus causes a loud sound.

Over the years, both of us have heard all sorts of things on the roof. We’re surrounded by a thick jungle of fruit trees, Sataw trees (very tall trees that produce a popular, edible stink bean), and Mangda trees (popular with Thai’s for their edible leaves).

Some evenings it’s rats. Other times a “widow maker” falls from high above, crashing loudly on the roof and jolting us awake or causing us to jump if we’re quietly watching T.V.

In the early evening and early morning, we hear the scritch, scritch, scritch of teacher birds on our roof. I nicknamed them "teacher birds," since one of their many, varied calls sounds just like they’re saying, “Teacher, teacher, teacher.” Upon looking them up in our well-worn “bird book “sitting on our dining room table, we’ve found that “Teacher birds” are what is known as the “Common Mynah,” here in Southeast Asia.

There are hordes of teacher birds all over the place. Similar to blue jays in the Northeastern U.S.

The sound we heard this particular night was different though. It was definitely an animal, but different than we had heard in the past.

“It’s a bird I think,” uttered Mam, both of us looking up at the ceiling as if we could somehow see through to what was causing the commotion.

“Nope. Too loud and too heavy for a bird,” I said.

“A rat?”

“If that’s a rat, we’re in trouble. That would be the biggest rat I’ve ever seen. It’s heavier than that. Listen…hear how heavy?” Mam turned the volume down on the T.V. and listened as it was actively scurrying across the roof and back again, nodding in agreement.

Then the noise stopped for a while.

Mam and I both were still riveted by the new sound though, so we both were lying in bed silent, waiting.

Three minutes passed…five minutes….nothing.

Mam looked at me and I at her, we both shrugged, and Mam turned the volume up on the T.V. when suddenly it happened again.

A loud scurrying across the roof. Something quite heavy scurried quickly across the roof to the opposite side. If I weren’t in Thailand I’d swear it was a raccoon.

Mam and I got out of bed and went into the adjacent room. Again, looking up at the ceiling we pinpointed approximately where it was, picked up a broom and poked the ceiling underneath the sound with the broom handle.

Nothing…Silence.

Things were quiet for some time and we finally turned off the T.V., settling in for the night. No sooner had we drifted off to sleep when suddenly we were jolted awake with another burst of activity on the roof.

Thinking what to do, I figured my only recourse was to go outside with a flashlight and climb the ladder leading up to our water tower…

We’ve got this huge water tower beside the house, which is approximately twenty feet (6.09 meters) high. The thing holds nine-100 gallon blue plastic barrels of water our landlady uses to irrigate the fruit trees during our dry season.

…to see if I could get a good vantage point in which to spot whatever it was on our roof.

I was as silent as I possibly could be. Eventually I reached a height where I had a fairly good view of the south-side of our roof. Positioning myself, I hooked my leg through one of the ladders rungs and hung myself outward, training the flashlight onto the roof.

There, on the lower back corner, was something that at first looked like a takraw ball, a small plastic ball of weaved plastic used to play “takraw” a game like volleyball, but only using one’s feet.

Then the ball moved.

“What is it?” Mam shouted up to me. “Damn-est thing I’ve ever seen,” I uttered.

Finally things began falling into place. I suddenly remembered seeing a picture of this thing somewhere…

And here it is…..


To a Texan like me, my first thought was, “Well I’ll be damned! An armadillo!” Having seen many armadillo’s in Southwest Texas, most of them road-kill though.

Then suddenly it moved. The thing unraveled, got up and in a sort of dragging motion, scurried across the roof to the other side. I quickly descended the water tower ladder and went to the opposite side of the house to see if I could find it, only to discover the animal had disappeared. Most likely it had climbed onto one of the many trees that brush the side of our house, coming into contact with the roof.

After searching the tops of the trees adjacent to the roof, shining the flashlight around to see if I could spot the animal again, I finally gave up and went into the house. Upstairs I had a box of newspaper articles I had clipped and saved, remembering an article I had cut out about the very same animal, which had been found hidden in a trucks cargo hold as the driver tried to cross the border, smuggling several live animals into Cambodia.

Finding the article I didn’t have to read much of it before I came to the name…Pangolin. Quickly scanning the article, it told of the animal being critically endangered, a delicacy in many Asian countries, primarily China, and commanding a hefty price on the black market since it was becoming scarce.

Then I turned to the Internet. A couple of quick Google searches and I was an amateur expert on the thing.



As it turns out, this heavily scaled animal is not related to either an armadillo, or an anteater, two animals it is often confused with. This thing on our roof was in fact, not related to any other animal at all, it’s species being fully unique.

The Pangolin has no teeth, and strikingly similar to an anteater, has an extremely long, sticky tongue used exclusively for reaching into termite mounds and ant nests to lick out its prey.

The Pangolin’s scales are somewhat different than an armadillo, in that they are razor sharp and if handled incorrectly will inflict severe, deep razor-like wounds.

It also has the capability to emit quite a noxious odor if provoked, leading one to understand that this animal is more than adequately equipped to protect itself. How ironic it’s most dangerous predator is man.

One entry on a Pangolin website said this:

“Should you ever spot one of these animals in the wild count yourself extremely fortunate as they are endangered and very rarely seen. If you are lucky enough, your view might be of it rolled in a tight ball; this is one of its main defense mechanisms.”

Well, I certainly do feel fortunate! But I do wish it would pick somebody else’s roof!


Just scanning the area around our home, you can easily see why a Pangolin would choose this area to live. Scattered throughout the area are several huge termite mounds popping up here and there among the various fruit trees and thick jungle vegetation.

For more information about this rather interesting, highly endangered animal, take a look here, or here, or here.

-Jeeem-

Hey Gang!

Got some ideas brewing here! Please tell me what you think.

I’ve been considering making this blog a collaborative work in progress.

This means I (as current administrator / author) authorize all of you authoring rights and anyone can post on this blog at any time about anything.

Kinda like we’re all at a small party, slightly tipsy, and mulling around chatting with one another…

What do you think?

Please either e-mail me your ideas, or leave comments on the site.

Thanks, the Jeeemeister

Hi folks,

The picture above has absolutely no bearing on the subject at hand, but it did come up in a Google Image search for “BUSY.” 

I figured I’d add it since it’s most definitely an attention getter if nothing else…heh, heh, heh...(Hi Bob!)

 

I really haven’t had the time to do much updating on this blog for one particular reason…

I’ve had a difficult time the past few months at school, having to deal with the new classroom assistant the school assigned to me, named Somkid…or as I have nicknamed her, “Somkid the Slug.” No doubt, one of the most lazy, stupid women I’ve ever met in my life.

 

Although I told the school before signing my last contract, “Please, please give me a good assistant. One, who speaks fairly good English, won’t talk on their damned cell phone during class, and who has a fairly good attention to detail.”  What I got was almost the exact opposite.

Without going into too much sordid detail, I began complaining about Somkid several months ago but naturally my complaints fell to deaf ears. Nothing was done other than someone telling her to please try to get along with me. 

The problems got worse and like many things in Thai society, were never dealt with until finally coming to a head, with my giving the school an ultimatum….”Either you get me another assistant or I’m gone.”   Yet another time in my life when I throw all caution to the wind and bet on my own odds.

Now Somkid is gone.  My own odds once again won out...

That, in and of itself, is a good thing.  But, (there’s always a butt) the school told me they could not furnish me with a new assistant, so I’d have to either learn to work with Somkid, or work alone.

I chose to work alone.

I cited that with Somkid in the classroom, she was never an asset of any sort, but yet a burden.

 

So now I’m working alone in my classroom with only the help of the “so-called” Thai English teachers, which is a stretch to say the least in calling them English teachers.   Even the term teacher is a stretch.  Most are excessively lazy or don’t speak even a lick of English…

The Thai educational system….what a farce!

Now my workload is heavy, but not so much I can't handle it.   I’m just very, very busy lately and have to bring my work home with me, something I swore I’d never, ever, do again after working in corrections some seven years ago.

 

But hey, vacation time (approximately one month of a semester break) is fast approaching and already I’m designing a streamlined method for tackling the extra work I have now, and lining things up so I can still deliver quality lessons and easily stay on top of things. 

-Jeeem-

If you're reading this, you're one of the chosen few whom I trust and whose friendship I value.

As most of you know, I've been tossing around the idea of going private with my blog for some time now. It was a tough decision struggling with my ego of getting a bunch of hits on my site and finally breaking the 20,000 hit mark, or deciding to go private and rid myself of some of the stalkers and weirdo's who were following my postings.

Another reason for going private is the rash of arrests and subsequent incarceration of individuals like me who choose to blog the truth. Governments here in Southeast Asia tend to get upset when the general public utilize the media to write about the truth, so they've begun arresting the offenders under the guise of said individuals being a threat to national security or some such bullshit.

Laws in Thailand, Malaysia, and other Southeast Asian countries are often archaic and set up to protect the government, not the people. But from what I've read in the newspapers and online, the general public is no longer taking these injustices in stride. Now they are speaking out against these harsh, antiquated edicts, and in many cases, pressuring the governments to either release those individuals in question or change their passé rulings.

It is said Westerners are more concerned with privacy issues than in other parts of the world.

Perhaps, but I've noticed many Asians simply have a different concept or definition of privacy, than Westerners.

An example is seeing Thai women bathing outside. They sidle up to a communal water barrel wearing a wrap-around sarong and manage to bathe in the thing without exposing any more flesh than is absolutely necessary. Or they hold one's hand up in front of the mouth to hide picking their teeth after a meal. Just a couple of things that immediately pop into my head.

Thai's are pretty universal about these things, but in direct contrast, they don't think anything of walking right onto your land to pick a flower, take a piss, check out something they are interested in, hang their birdcage on your electric line, or drive their motorcycle into your driveway to park it while attending an event nearby, all without ever asking permission.

Gossip is rampant in Thailand. Even more so than what I witnessed while living in China.

A FARANG (the disgusting noun Thai's use in a spiteful manner to indicate a foreigner) like me cannot leave the house, go into town, visit the local pharmacy for some antibiotics, and go back home without the whole village knowing about it within a few hours.

"The farang is sick!" transmitted in Thai through mobile phones, SMS messages, and word-of-mouth within minutes of the event.

Jesus! Get a feaking life why don't cha?

Even though I've had a few run-in's with Thai's due to privacy issues, their lack of appreciation for our culture's version of privacy doesn't hold a candle to the underhanded, evil deeds other nutso foreigner's pull against their own.

So, here we are! All private, snuggly, comfy and forming a nice little friendly community!

So without further ado....I'd like to welcome:

• The Skelchy sisters, Annie and Simone from in and around Petaling Jaya and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (Annie is an accomplished writer, story teller and philosophical thinker, who speaks at least five...seven? languages, while her sister Simone is a truly wonderful, modest, engaging individual with an extremely interesting job that I hope she'll tell us about in a future posting).
• Chris Allen, (a.k.a. Mysterioso) from Belfast, Northern Ireland, is a sensitive, talented musician and one of the most intelligent, talented individuals I know.
• Jenni Kossack from Michigan, USA...crazy, berserk, beautiful, extraordinary, my sexy love muffin! She says it like it is and isn't the least bit afraid to do so. She's bold, brash, and turning over a new leaf in life recently. A cartoonist with an edge, her humor is exactly as I like it....In your face...down and dirty....and RUDE!
• Mr. Robert Watson and his wife Diane from Tilton, New Hampshire...an old, seasoned friend of mine and former fishing buddy. Bob and I used to work together, and we've seen each other go through many different phases of life. His life experiences are such that most people wouldn't want to ever have to experience, but which has no doubt strengthened him in ways I cannot possibly describe. While Diane calls a spade a spade, Bob is the laid back member of the family, chosing to pause and observe, saving his opinions for later, well thought out and often sarcastically accurate.

That's the score for now folks. Possibly more people to be added in the near or distant future.

But, I can promise you this....

I've got a lot of plans up my sleeve, like interviews with my followers, the addition of collaborative works by my blog members, short stories for submission and review, comments, and many links to more exciting blog links.

I hope you all will enjoy this experience and stick with me through the easy and the tough times!

Hail to you all!

-Jeeem-

Usually our tiny, obscure village is pretty quiet and nondescript.

Villagers lounge about, wash clothes by hand, visit neighbors, swim at the local river bridge, listen to their caged red whiskered Bulbuls, play takraw, dote after their babies, or snack on locally prepared morsels sold roadside.

Occasionally however, we get some real form of excitement around here that brings people out of the woodwork.

Very recently, that was the case when Mam was driving by on her motorcycle and saw a small crowd of villagers standing about, hunched over something near the road. She stopped to investigate and was horrified (she doesn’t like snakes) to see the largest snake she’d ever witnessed in the flesh.

She came zipping home shouting, “Where’s the camera?” Adding, “You have to come see this!” We grabbed the camera and headed down the road to Teem’s house, the woman who’s father died last summer.

“My son found it.” Teem said, pointing to a wet area near their outhouse where her son had discovered the snake, which appeared to be after their chickens. Within minutes, the area was crawling with villagers, many of them suddenly becoming ‘snake experts,’ giving advice on what to do and how to handle this monstrosity.

I watched the scene unfold as one brave soul approached the snake, which I identified as most likely a reticulated python (Although I’m certainly not an authority on snakes but can Google at blinding speed) and lassoed the snake with a blue electrical wire. My guess was the snake would have stretched out to be at least 15 feet (4.5 meters) long, most likely a conservative estimate.

The villagers drug the snake out to the empty lot across from Teem’s house, an area where ironically, several snakes including large poisonous cobras, had been found in the past.

After the snake was bound by the cord, somebody in the small mob suggested they kill it and eat it, which is precisely what they did, although I didn’t stick around for the gruesome details. They all seemed very upbeat, and Mam said they were proud that they had successfully captured it and had stated, “That’s the end of the killer snake!”

At least until I opened my big mouth and exclaimed, “Where there’s one snake, there’s more!” Seemingly bursting their happy little bubble.

I had to admit that although I’d seen snakes this large and larger before, I’d never seen one in the wild and was a bit unnerved by the fact a fifteen foot python was roaming around in our village. This snake could easily kill a small child, so I suppose that fact alone could justify the killing, although I wish they would have given it to the authorities, as perhaps a beautiful snake like this could have found a place at the Bangkok Snake Farm, or in a zoo somewhere in the country.

-Jeeem-

Today is the ninth straight day that I’ve been free of symptoms of Chikungunya fever.

I was a bit worried, as some people in our village have reported that the virus has been lingering for up to three or more months.  Luckily, that isn’t the case with me.  Mam, however, says she still has some ankle pain from time to time, but it’s not something that is incapacitating, just annoying.

Alas, all is not rosy in Jeeem’s life. 

Over the past two weeks I’ve missed a total of three days of work due to severe stomach cramps.  Last week I began passing coffee ground material (old blood) and shortly thereafter the stomach cramps started. The first day I didn’t go to the clinic, I just stayed at home and in bed.  But, the second day the cramps worsened and I was no longer passing old blood, but instead this yellow, watery liquid with a yellow mucous substance. (Yummy huh?)

I broke down and went to see the doctor, mainly due to my school requiring a doctor’s slip if an employee misses two or more days of work.  But, I was glad I did since he told me the pills I had been taking for the Chikungunya virus quite literally ate a hole in my stomach, causing the bleeding and then what compounded the whole shebang was Mam’s trip to Ban Khuag Niang, our adjoining village, to purchase some locally prepared delicacy which I ended up sampling.

The food was obviously tainted, which is a relatively common occurrence here in Thailand, and my stomach ulcer became infected with bacteria.  Not a good scenario, but I’m better now after having to take about a gazillion pills before and after every meal.

At last count, according to the Bangkok Post newspaper, it is reported that well over 32,000 people have been infected with the Chikungunya virus here in southern Thailand.

It is a terrible malady indeed.

-Jeeem-