Advertisement
Published: December 15th 2012
Edit Blog Post
It’s another scorching Tuesday morning and we’re outside wishing the king a happy birthday. Ben and I are standing alongside the rest of the school in front of the King’s portrait. I feel beads of sweat dripping down my back like a broken tap and Ben’s strained face tells the same story. As we slowly cook in our suits, I dream of how you must be having it back home with snowy blizzards and an actual need for clothing. This lasted for an hour before returning to a cold shower and a promise never to be suited up in the blazing 35 degree heat.
Tuesday was a public holiday so joined Claire, Robyn, Stephen, and Pra Yung, we headed for a waterfall whose name escapes me. Unlike the openness of Pha Diem, it fell deep into a crater where only small rays of light reached in to illuminate a strip of sandy beach and a pool where children splashed. In the pockets of light, schools of fish danced between legs and we let them tickle our feet for as long as we could last. I feel over repeatedly in fits of giggles. We ventured into the deeper waters that sat
in the cliff faces shadow, then bombed and dived off a large rock. In contrast to being soaked in hot sweat, I shivered coming out the water, a rarity in a place where you’re lucky if it gets below 18. We swam, ate and got eaten till the growing crowds of school children determined it was time to be on our way.
From holidays to working overtime, Sunday and Monday was spent running an English Camp for monks. I felt a little apprehensive. In Nakhon Sawan we’d only given a hand and the students were all studying college level English. Here we would lead activities to a mix of 12-18yearold novice monks with no idea of how much they knew. To my surprise, they were like better behaved versions of my students and keener to take your picture on their multiple cameras and phones. Whilst Claire and Robyn taught, Ben and I played games. There is something interesting about watching a small, saffron robed 12 yearold guide a blindfolded 6”4 farang around by shouting ‘LEFT,’ ‘RIGHT,’ ‘NO, GO FORWARD.’ At one point we were both blindfolded and blundering around to a cacophony of commands as we stumbled into chairs, monks and each other. We played a madly energetic game of fruit salad with 120 monks and posed for more pictures before ending a hard day’s play.
At night, Pra Yung took us to a street party in a middleclass area of Ubon full of villa homes and swimming pool gardens. We drank away bottle after bottle and from what I recall, took turns beautifully serenading those gathered with ‘Let it be’, ‘Torn’, and ‘I’m Yours’ on Karaoke. In reality it was probably a lot less beautiful, more passionately ear-shattering as we blared into the mike. After Robyn had finished making friends with the under 9’s and cradling babies, we headed for a drink at Ubar. Pra Yung bought a Red Label to share and Ben and Duni, (Pra Yung’s nephew), shared it all between them whilst we dreamed of MacDonald’s and bed. Once downed, we left via a burger in the back of Pra Yung’s pickup truck and drove homeward under a canopy of stars with Duni drunkenly mumbling love songs into the night.
Another morning was spent mucking around with monks in the usual manner of shouting, running, and numerous picture taking. After last night, we made it through the day on coffee and regular sofa-seated breathers. I got talking with Ao, a 17yearold who had been a novice now for 8months. He told me, (in broken English and Thai), that he intended to train as a monk for 6 years. I can’t imagine myself missing out on those first years of young freedom and adulthood. Yet I understand that it is these years where Thai boys become men through spiritual journey rather than new experience. We exchanged Facebook details and I left with everyone for the certificate giving by the Abbot, a tubby and camp man with a loving smile. I’m looking at my certificate now, with my name spelt out in gold lettering ‘David Papperson.’ Must remember to pass it on to Mr.Papperson when I see him…
So I’ve been boiled, eaten and barked at by monks this week but still falling ever further in love with Thailand. Not to say I’m missing a white Christmas but there will be time for many more to come and the Christmas lessonsstart today. Presently, I have several cards addressed to ‘Davit’ and wishing a ‘Marry Chrissmas’. I’ll bring you more from this week so until then, I hope everyone’s having a very marry Chrissmas!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.084s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 9; qc: 50; dbt: 0.0536s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb