Less than a week of procologic hell, and less than a week until I leave for Vietnam. I had to buy a few things, but I still have most necessary travel items stored away. One thing I splurged on was some expensive nylon travel pants. I remember before I left, I spent huge amounts of money on all sorts of synthetic clothes, from shirts to socks to underwear. It's only really necessary for pants (and underwear), because while cotton pants get dirty quickly, nylon pants stay clean. They are also better for walking around in jungles.

Expensive synthetic shirts are also unnecessary, ever since the Vagabond clued me in on Bangkok's ultimate travel outfit: the fake Lacost shirt. They look great, weather your crossing the Himalayas or are out clubbing all night, and they are so cheap, it doesn't matter if they get ruined. I picked up two more at MBK.

I also had to buy some dollars. Yes, Vietnam may have won the war, but they still spend our money, because their currency is worthless: one dollar equals 16,000 dong! After I pick up my passport from my travel agent, I'll buy some traveler's checks, so I won't have to carry hundreds of dollars in cash.

But, I still have to survive another miserable week of proctoring. Somebody needs to show the Thai teachers the section of Lonely Planet on sanuk:

The Thai word sanuk means "fun." In Thailand anything worth doing - even work - should have an element of sanuk, otherwise it automatically becomes drudgery. This doesn't mean Thais don't want to work or strive, just that they tend to approach tasks with a sense of playfulness. Nothing condemns an activity more than the description mai sanuk - "not fun..." The famous Thai smile comes partially out of this desire to make sanuk.

There is no playfulness or famous Thai smiles to be had from the super-serious, bitter, cynical, mai sanuk leei Thai teachers. Worst of all is the macabre pleasure they derive from shunning us farang. We are all supposed to meet in the pre-proctologic-planning room, and walk holding hands and skipping to the exam rooms. But they will usually leave without us, even if we are on time, standing in front of the envelopes, with our hands on them (they will just snatch them away and leave).

And then when we get to the room, "late," since they left us behind, they will totally ignore us. A colleague decided to fight fire with fire, and play on Thais' fear of confrontation. After being ignored repeatedly, he pointed a finger at each in turn, and asked "how are you?" until they answered!