This weekend was an exciting for Bangkok, because the new Subway finally opened. After seeing the stations almost every day for a year, I was finally able to go down and ride a train.

I wanted to go look at TV’s on Sunday, so I took the Skytrain to the Asok station, then went down into the Sukhumvit subway station, which is right there. The place was crowded with excited Thai families, taking advantage of the special low price of 10 baht (25 cents) to ride as far as you want. The lines were long, and the trains were packed, but I rode all the way to the end, popped out to see where I was, then back to the Pahanyothin station to go look at TV’s at Central Ladprao.

The stations are deep, two or three stories underground. And, unlike the cramped Skytrain platform, they are massive. They are also glisteningly clean, empty, and peaceful. I imagine this will change once the company with the exclusive contract to provide advertising, which, by total coincidence, just happens to be owned by the Prime Minister’s son, fills the stations with speakers and monitors.

The platforms are like the Singapore Metro, with glass doors blocking off the tunnel. The trains are the same as the models used on the Skytrain. But for some strange reason, there are hardly any rails on the ceiling to hang onto, making it difficult to keep your balance on the packed trains. They also have an automated station announcement, complete with a “mind the gap” warming, like the London Underground. This is better than the Skytrain, where the driver announces each station in an inaudible voice.

The trains seem fast and loud, but I think this is an illusion created by the enclosed space. They can’t be that fast, because it takes a long time to get from station to station. And since it’s underground, once the novelty wears off in about 30 seconds, it is a very long, boring ride.

Overall, the new Subway does its job very well. Unfortunately, it has one fatal flaw: it doesn’t actually go anywhere. I’m not sure what they were thinking when they designed the route. The terminal station at Bang Sue is in the middle of nowhere, except for a little train station that nobody uses. Then it actually runs parallel to the Skytrain route for two stops. The Pahayothin station is slightly useful, as it takes you beyond the infinitely complex lad Prao intersection, getting you closer to the Central Lad Prao and Tesco/Lotus Malls. I would have used this station to ride all the way to Silom if it were running when I lived in my first apartment.

The other terminal station is the Hue Lampong railway station. I’m sure I’ll take a train trip in the future, so now I can get all the way to the train using public transportation. But on normal days I would never go here.

For me, the only useful station is the confusingly named Pra Ram 9 (known in English everywhere else as Rama 9). This is were my bank is. In Thailand, where nothing involving money is easy, if you have to go to a bank, to cash a check, for instance, you have to go to your original branch. My original branch is in the Fortune Town mall (Foe-toon-taa if you want the taxi driver to understand you), a 50 baht motorcycle ride up Asoke.

The other good thing about this stop is the IT Mall there. Not only is it convenient, unlike the 15 minute walk Pantip Plaza requires from the Skytrain, it is actually a good mall. The Police have killed Pantip with their constant crackdowns, and now only the dodgy “dirty movie” guys remain. But IT Mall has store after store with pirated software proudly on display. And not a “dirty movie” guy in sight. I’ll be back.

Strangely, the Prime Minister wants the government to buy the Skytrain and Subway. This flies in the face of his privatize-or-else policy, where he sells state enterprises even when nobody thinks it’s a good idea, just so he can make a quick baht on the stock market. Perhaps after nationalizing these systems, he will sell them to the company owned by his son. Just by coincidence, of course.

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Every few months, I get an uncontrollable urge to play video games. Unfortunately, besides Civilization III, my laptop isn’t much of a gaming machine. That means I would have to buy a Playstation 2 and a TV to experience gaming goodness.

But I don’t like buying things. I’ve found an apartment I’ll be in for awhile though, so I won’t have to lug it around. And since my apartment charges 500 baht a month to rent a TV, it would pay for itself in a year. Plus, I would be able to watch DVDs (which will eventually require a home-theater-in-a-box).

Hmmm, I guess I could take the new Subway right to Central Ladprao. I’ll just go and look around. To be continued…

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Today I had to go to a conference on student services. The conference was held at the new Assumption University campus outside of Bangkok in Bang Na, the middle of nowhere. The place was outrageously opulent, and absolutely screamed “we have a ton of money.” Massive cathedrals, huge boulevards, marble pillars, and golden statues were everywhere. I have never seen anything like it. The fact that it is surrounded by rice fields adds to the effect. It was excessively extravagant.

It’s Catholic, so I guess they are trying to impress the Buddhists. Luckily for the Thais, their “mai bpen rai” philosophy of life makes them impervious to conversion. Given this, if the Church were truly concerned about helping people, the massive amounts of money needed to build the place could have been better spent. On feeding starving children, for instance. Needless to say, the students here are the richest of the rich.

The Pope John the Whatever hall, were the conference was held, was equally over the top. All wood paneled, with huge chandeliers and Thai-style gold-leaf painting (with no Buddhas, of course.).

My task was very strange. I was supposed to “facillitate,” which was a fancy word for being a secretary. I had to sit in a corner and take notes on an hours worth of the most awful Powerpoint presentations I have ever seen. Why not just have the presenters submit their presentations, you ask? Because that would be too logical.

I am an experienced Master of Powerpoint, and I know how to make a damn good presentation. It’s simple really: just put key points down, and say the details. These idiots had the busiest slides ever, covered from top to bottom with flowery, meaningless text. I have no idea what they said, because I was so busy trying to write down what was on the slides. Luckily, my notes weren’t used for anything.

The lowlight was the discussion at the end. The session was on “continuing education,” but “Mister Chairman” made no effort to direct the discussion towards the topic. It eventually degenerated into making fun of how Chinese students abroad study too hard. Mister Chairman even got in on the action. The sole Chinese woman present looked very embarrassed. This was the same woman who showed pictures of her sofas in her presentation, so I had no sympathy for her.

So, it was a ridiculous waste of time in one of the most ridiculous place in Thailand. But lunch was free, and it got me out of the office for the day. Plus, it’s not like I had anything better to do.

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Stuart has inspired me to resume my Thai studies. I have been using the fact that I am too busy now that I have a job as an excuse. But I will use down time at work for this purpose.

A few months ago I was a beginning reader. But now I’ll have to spend a week re-familiarizing myself with the letters. I’m also learning the names of the letters this time around. This is how children learn to read. Each letter’s name begins with the sound the letter makes, so it serves as a memory aid, since most of the letters have simple names like “egg (kai),” “child (dek),” “chicken (gai),” etc.

Many Thai people tell foreigners not to bother learning to read, because it’s “too hard.” This is silly, since it’s easier than English. English has so many exceptions, you have to memorize practically everything. And even though I have spoken English all my life, I still can’t spell.

Thai is phonetic, and follows rules, with few exceptions. People who balk at the seemingly high number of letters (definitely 44 consonants, and around 24 vowels, depending on how you define “vowel”) should consider the fact that since the alphabet is phonetic, each character can only have one sound. So instead of having to remember all the different sounds the letter “a” can make (cat, father, bank, etc.), all you have to remember is that two vertical lines with loops on the bottom (apparently Thai vowels don’t have names) is pronounced like the “a” in “cat,” while the loopy thing that looks like a colon is pronounced like the “a” in father, etc. (It’s easier if you have pictures.)

This part is easy. Teaching yourself a new alphabet is actually pretty simple. The wrinkle is the tones, which are built into the characters. There are four special tone marks, which together with the absence of a mark cover the five possible tones. But usually there isn’t a mark. So each consonant is considered either “high,” “mid,” or “low.” And a few consonants are special “stop” consonants. All this stuff combines into seven rules, which will tell you the tone of the syllable. So when I left off a few months ago, I had to read things twice: once for the sound (easy) and once to get the tone (hard). Because if you say the sounds right and the tone wrong, you are saying a completely different word.

Then there are the annoying exceptions: invisible vowels, consonants that change their sound, consonants that are silent but change the tone, and consonants that are said twice, with two different sounds. But there are only a few of these.

Unfortunately, it’s exam time again, and I just got my proctoring schedule. I went from only teaching six hours a week, to having to proctor all day, every day, in addition to teaching. Coupled with the new PS2 at home, I may not get much studying done for the next two weeks.

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The mention of Thailand conjures up images of islands, beaches, and jungles full of elephants and monkeys. The country has all this is spades, south of Bangkok. One may also think of ancient temples and the idyllic city of Chiang Mai. These can be found north of Bangkok. But there is another region of the country that most people have never heard of: the Northeast, known locally as Isaan (often misleadingly spelled Isarn).

Isaan is almost like a separate country, and has more in common with Laos than Thailand. The people are of Lao origin and speak a variation of the Lao language. The government requires schools to teach in the Thai language, so some Thai is spoken, but Lao (also known as Isaan) is spoken in daily life.

The soil and climate are poor for farming, which is all people can do to survive there, so the region is the poorest in Thailand. Because of this, many Isaan people come to Bangkok to work and study. While a lot of young Isaan people go to university and get decent jobs, the fact is that the bulk of menial jobs are done by them. Most Taxi drivers, motorcycle drivers, and janitors are from Isaan.

This about sums up what I knew about Isaan before this weekend’s trip there. I was expecting a brown, desolate wasteland with hardly any people. It turns out everything was green and lush, and there were many friendly, welcoming old people.

Destination Khon Kaen

The traffic's more laid back than in Bangkok

The destination was Khon Kaen (the “kh” has a puff of air, and the “k” sounds a bit like a “g”), the conspirators were Stuart and Jeremy from work, and the plan was to visit Jeremy’s Isaan friend Long’s family. We missed our plane, so ended up driving, which, besides the boring six hour trip, turned out to be a good thing.

We got into Khon Kaen, the largest city in Isaan with a population of 150,000 (and fourth largest in Thailand) at 1:30 am. The plan was to check out the nightlife, but the bars were closing and the streets were packed with outrageously drunk kids. They looked about 16. Guess the older ones are working in Bangkok. So we retired to our hotel, the Pii Pii High Tech, which was very low tech indeed.
Cultural extravaganza

The party comes to you in Isaan

I’ve been living in Thailand for a year, but I’ve never really had a “cultural, drinking rice whiskey with the guys, experience.” I finally had my chance today. After doing the tourist stuff, which there isn’t much of, we were driving somewhere out in the country, when we ended up behind what can only be called a party wagon. A big flatbed truck, with a band in the back belting out Isaan music. They looked excited to see us, so we followed them to their village and partied in the street with the local people. The occasion was two young men being inducted into the monkhood. Even though this is a solemn occasion for them, there’s not much to do in Isaan, so it’s a good excuse for the rest of the town to party.

We probably could have stayed there all night, but we eventually headed to Long’s village, in the middle of nowhere. Long is very poor, and the family lives in a hut, with very basic conditions. Like my experience in Cambodia, the people keep themselves very clean, and we were forced to shower frequently, whether we wanted to or not. Like Cambodia, this is done by pouring ice cold water on yourself, and is the only way to keep cool. Unlike Cambodia, their hut was equipped with a TV and a refrigerator.

Concert in the country

That night we went to an Isaan folk music concert truly in the middle of nowhere. A big stage with flashing lights and huge speakers was set up in a field by a school. On stage gaudily dressed singers belted out wacky Isaan tunes, while poorly-coordinated dancers strutted their stuff. Surreal doesn’t even come close to describing it (You can download a ten-second clip here). When we walked up we became the attraction, and the whole crowd turned around and watched us and smiled for five minutes. People even brought me food.

The old folks sat with the children, and the young men danced in front of the stage. There were two groups of boys, and a couple guards were trying to keep them separated. Eventually the band played a very popular song, which was too much for the boys. I didn’t see what was happening, because I was filming the stage, but a fight broke out between the two groups. I don’t know if they had guns or knives, but the performers abandoned the stage, and the crowd ran away.

It only lasted a few seconds, which I didn’t see, because I was trying to rescue my whiskey. Afterwards we cowered with the crowd by the busses for about 15 minutes. Then the band came back and the show resumed, without further incident. Just your typical night in the Thai countryside.

The “real” Thailand

It's not called the Land of Smiles for nothing

The next day we went to another village and watched an old women weaving silk on her loom, thread by thread. Apparently it takes her an entire month to make a cloth. Then we went to a rice field and watched people plant rice, which is back-breaking work, before heading back to the big, noisy, stinky city.

People say Isaan is the “real” Thailand. It’s poor, but the people are friendly and down-to-earth, and welcome visitors with open arms. Unlike Bangkok, it’s quiet, and the air is clean. I definitely plan to come back.

Check out my Isaan photo gallery

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Exam week at a Thai university is not the time to question how things are done. They are nice enough to let me work here, after all, so I’m in no position to change the system, no matter how silly it is.

The root of my problem is how we, the teachers, do everything for the students. Thais start spoiling their kids from birth, and keep doing it until they get married and finally move out of their parent’s house. For instance, after class, the students leave all their garbage laying around for the janitor to pick up. There aren’t even garbage cans in the rooms.

Thirty minutes before each test we are assigned to proctor, we have to meet our group of two other teachers. We take our sealed packets of exams, usually for three classes, and go to the designated room. Then we carefully lay the exams out on the desks, one class in each row. This may involve putting a color-coded exam, answer books, and bubble sheet on each desk. Finally, we make a complicated seating chart on the board, showing where the students should sit according to class, section, and individual number.

Then we have two or three hours to kill. Sometimes the Thai teachers from the Thai program talk to me, which is nice, because other than that, I have no contact with them. One teacher pointed out a couple minor celebrities, who are in Thai soap operas. Like all Thai TV/movie/pop stars, they were luk krueng, or half-Thai, and had skin whiter than mine.

If the teaches don’t talk to me, I go through my Thai alphabet flashcards. It’s actually been a good opportunity to study, and I have re-acquainted myself with all the letters.

When they are finished, the students just leave their papers on their desks. After they all leave, we go around and pick them all up, and make sure they are in numerical order. So all they have to do is come in, take the test, and leave. They don’t have to get the tests or turn them in, since we do all that for them. If it’s a three hour test, they can come in an hour late (the few who come on time leave an hour early).

At first I asked questions, but the Thai Teachers all gave me dirty looks. So now I happily pass out papers, draw color-coded diagrams, smile at all the late students, and sort stacks of exams. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Mai bpen rai.

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When they aren’t sleeping or barking, Bangkok’s filthy, diseased street dogs have places to go. And they know how to get around. As I walked to work this morning, I watched one such loathsome specimen crossing a busy intersection. He patiently waited for the light to turn green, then walked across when it was safe.

One of the great mysteries of Bangkok is, where are all the cute, cuddly puppies? These disgusting creatures are breeding, unfortunately, but I have never, ever, seen a puppy. I have only seen puppies in two places. Confined to tiny cages or boxes at the Chachuchak weekend market, or sleeping in a drug-induced stupor with sedated beggar children outside of the MBK shopping mall. Something tells me that, much like how these children are procured from Cambodia, their pets are procured from the market.

So the question remains. Where are the offspring of Bangkok’s mangiest denizens?

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