Thoughts all seem to stray to places far away, I need a change of scenery – 12th January 2020

Last Sunday Amy and I, along with Mum and Dad, had to attend a funeral in Chiang Mai. It’s a three plus hour drive and meant a 5am start for us. I know we’re getting older and getting up earlier is kinda normal but damn, 5am!

I was hoping to be able to spend some time listening to podcasts but when we arrived at Mum and Dad’s and found Dad asleep in the passenger seat it was obvious that I would be driving. It was still dark as we left the city and approached the mountains. The air turned grey and dusty as the sun rose slowly somewhere in the sky and it was entrancing to watch the changes to the colours of the mountains that I was driving towards and soon driving through.

Dad’s big truck made easy time as we settled into the long valley and then through the twisting second set of mountains where a never-ending road work slows things down somewhat. I had to ease off once into the Chiang Mai valley though as, eager after the road works, I was starting to hit 140 km/h without even realising it.

This funeral was for cousin Ting’s mum. Ting had taken the time to travel an hour or so to my own mother’s funeral in the UK so it was only appropriate that we attend her mum’s and it was good to catch up with her despite the circumstances.

Monks did their thing and relatives did their thing and I followed where and when I was told. I noted the ‘No women allowed’ sign outside one of the buildings and wondered when Thailand will discover its enlightenment. Is it my place to judge and do I need to care about how people following certain religions behave? Well, if it feels like injustice it feels ok to care. Just know that progress of this sort often takes more than a single lifetime but we can hope that the progress is made before the world burns.

Having left Chiang Rai before the sun came up, we returned after the sun had set again. Chiang Rai missed us for the day and still the Earth turned without care.

And so it was we arrive at Friday and this time I’m on a solo adventure in my own car, again to Chiang Mai. This time it was for my UK passport renewal and I had allowed myself an overnight stay so as to split up the driving.

I had challenged myself since the Sunday journey to drive more conservatively and having that extra time I planned to enjoy the drive and take a few extra seconds to check out the views. It also meant I could listen to music uninterrupted for 3 or 4 hours.

For some reason I enjoy driving; I’m not sure why. This trip towards Chiang Mai was especially entrancing and I arrived in a very good mood. In fact I was a little annoyed that the first half of the travelling was complete!

The first port of call was back to International House, where I had studied for my CELTA certificate, almost two years previously. I bumped into my favourite tutor there and was pleased to have a quick chat and also to see a few other staff members that I still recognised, though had forgotten their names.

The environment here on the mini campus still amazes me, it’s so beautiful and not what you would expect. Like a holiday resort but with not much to do except study. I somewhat envied the students who would be arriving after the weekend but then I remembered the feeling in the first week when I was questioning myself whether I could do it or not.

I had hoped that they still had copies of my work for the course in the office there but unfortunately, they only hold on to them for six months. Never mind. It was nice to drive through those familiar small lanes where nothing has changed too much. The city is sprawling out that direction but has only had minimal impact so far.

Back into the middle of the city and everything went well with my passport application, though I had some difficulty making my signature similar to what it was 10 years previous. The staff laughed with me and I’m guessing it’s not that an unusual problem as they had paper prepared for applicants to practice.

Quickly out of there and across town to a book shop that had been recommended. An hour and 1000 baht later it was time to find some food and I treated myself to a tiny pizza and salad. Woohoo! Holiday time!

Dark by now, I waited at the Mohawk Bar to catch up with Facebook friend John Murrie. The bars opening time is 8pm and it was only 7pm so I sat in the car reading some more Anna Karenina, taking the opportunity to cross off one of my daily challenges. By 8.30pm the bar was still closed and Tolstoy was taking a sleep-inducing hold of me and I had to quit and head out south to my overnight lodging with one of Amy’s old school friends.

I wuz ‘ere. No one else wuz.

Tired and sleepy I was somewhat energised by meeting the two puppies of the house, once I was accepted as a welcome enough intruder. I was warned to keep my shoes away from them so placed them in my room and shut the door. Not long after, I placed myself in the room and fell asleep but reminding myself I must make an effort to talk more with my hosts Oh and Namtan when I was in a more lucid state in the morning.

In a flash it was morning and after getting my reading challenge completed before 8am, I did 40 squats, took a shower and planned a breakfast coffee for my hosts. Unfortunately, I had left the bedroom door open and hadn’t noticed the dogs sneak in looking for some bounty.

Everyone showered and set I went to get my shoes but they had disappeared. Obviously, the dogs had got them but no problem, whatever, let’s just go on a hunt for them. One under the car, another at the back of the garden. Unfortunately, they hadn’t just been deposited but chewed on and spat out! Ah well, farewell my shoes. Luckily they were just about wearable as I had no other shoes with me. The girls were very apologetic for their pups’ behaviour but I just thought it was funny. I’d had the shoes for a few years so they’d done me pretty well. Maybe an excuse to go shop for some others soon.

An excellent coffee later it was time to get back on the road and my mind was filled with wonder as I listened to good music and again enjoyed the twisting roads round rolling mountains. I counted off the landmarks backwards, breaking the 3 hours down; mountains, valley, mountains, home. The return journey never as exciting as the outset, slight melancholy following the setting afternoon sun.

However, once home I was awed by the feeling of comfort. Looking across our garden I gave Amy a big hug and declared ‘I love it here. I love this life and I love being with you.’

The local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn their song
They serenade the weekend squire
Who just came out to mow his lawn
Another pleasant valley Sunday
Charcoal burning everywhere
Rows of houses that are all the same
And no one seems to care

– The Monkees

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful to have the energy and motivation to get up and do things. Today I took time to water the garden and clean the car.

…my memory was never loaded with anything but blank cartridges.

Mark Twain

To-do list

  • Write blog about Chiang Mai trip ✅
  • Record TCRAH
  • Water garden in the morning ✅
  • Prepare CD cases and case some more discs ½
  • Clean up balloons

Once again time ran out but I had a very busy and productive day. As well as getting up and watering the garden, front and back, I also washed the car. I ate breakfast in there somewhere too.

Before the morning was out we went for coffee and photocopied in preparation for afternoon lessons. In between lunch and teaching, I also wrote up a blog entry about my trip to Chiang Mai. It wasn’t as good as it was in my mind yesterday though.

Time running out doesn’t seem to be bothering me as much as it has in the past. I’m more accepting of the fact that I can finish something later. So long as I’m getting some things done then it’s fine.

Tomorrow is back to the routine mad Monday. One of the lessons should be pretty straightforward though and hopefully, the two difficult classes will be getting used to the method of what I’m doing with them now. I hope to get the rest of the exam questions finalised this week and probably be able to finish the regular class one tomorrow if I put my mind to it.

I love it, I hate it, I love it, so how about you? – 9th January 2020

I am a masochist. I am completing a test.

I’m sitting here in a hot classroom with about thirty 10 and 11-year-olds dancing, screaming, shouting, crying, punching, singing, banging doors and hanging out windows. And this is on a good day.

But it is a good day. I am in the zone. I can hear and see the cacophony whirling around me, can feel the rush of air as little ghosts dash past. But I don’t notice it. Is this what a meditative state is like? I don’t know (yet).

I sat and listened to a meditation the other night. It had some special name and special components; it was interesting but made me very anxious. After relaxing into a quieter state you had to imagine yourself climbing a steep hill and huffing deeply, gasping for air. OK, I can imagine that. But this went on for what felt like 5 minutes. Huff huff. I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t getting too much air, or too little. Huff huff. I felt dizzy. Huff huff. Nauseous. Huff huff. Anxious. Huff huff. Muscles wound tight, I tensed my stomach, itched my arms and kicked my legs. Fuck this.

Of course, I understand the purpose and I’ll check this again – maybe in a morning before I’ve had any coffee. The feeling of reaching the top of a mountain after extreme exertion will always have a relaxing satisfaction. It’s a long journey. Next time.

I’m jealous of those who enjoy the benefits of meditation and it’s not that I don’t think I can do it. I fill my time with many things and meditation hasn’t found its way onto that list quite yet. Well, it is on the list, but never ticked.

Recently I have been able to tick a lot of things though and I’m quite proud of that. Everything around is about a challenge at the moment. A challenge of change. I’ve pondered if I’m having my mid-life crisis now. I think I had a minor one when I was about thirty but on reflection, it doesn’t seem like it was that critical. I want to get that long story written down one day, perhaps just so I can still remember it or enjoy it again when I’m going senile. Who knows when that will be?

If I can tick off some little challenges and form some good habits out of them I think they will prepare me for the bigger challenges that may be ahead. The unexpected challenges, the ones that you don’t realise are messing with your head and your happiness. I’m looking for better reactions and outcomes as I know I am sometimes my own worst enemy. I want to change.

I’m in a place right now that I consider a little precarious.

Moving from Australia to Thailand didn’t feel like much of a big deal and I have been particularly happy since making this move. No longer being in such a financial struggle has allowed lots of spare time to read, listen to music, write and learn more about myself. I have never needed to be surrounded by lots of people to maintain happiness and now I am far away from those that I have made friends with around the world. So, no big deal, I can make new friends here in Thailand.

But here’s the rub. I’m very conscious of some of the nefarious reasons that people come to live in Thailand, and how many Thais can exploit that. I didn’t come here to get sidetracked with other people’s ridiculous dramas. That rules out getting involved with the more visible of the English speakers where I am. Those people make themselves known.

I understand the comfort those people find drinking, gossiping and fornicating together. In a different time, I would’ve happily joined in. I don’t want to judge them too harshly. I just don’t want to be around them.

Now, myself not being the most outgoing person in the world, I am struggling a little bit because I would at least like the opportunity to make connections with more people. Not superficial acquaintances but connections like I have made in the past.

I can now look back at the feelings my ex from Japan had as she found it difficult to maintain friendships in Australia with her fellow countrymen as the nature of migration is most often temporary (not made easier by some countries’ inhospitable attitudes towards migrants).

Now I find myself with similar feelings.

I am attempting to connect as much as I can digitally and I am mostly happy in my little kingdom at home but outside those gates is starting to become a little scary and precarious. I feel like the rug could be pulled away at any time without any hope of control.

I started to think more about this because I set myself a challenge to talk to a stranger every day. That’s when I realised that I am the stranger now. Whilst I can communicate with a Thai person on a superficial level it can rarely go deeper, rarely connect.

Otherwise, I rarely see any other foreigners where there is an opportunity to talk but now it is in my mind. I tell the students here that they should run up to any foreigner they see and just start talking. Now, I have to tell myself to do that. It may be nothing…. No, it will never be nothing – there will always be something gathered from that challenge.

A friend may not be made; a connection may be forged; but a lesson will always be learned.

Now, I really should get back to studying some Thai.

Can you tell me
What it is?
Does it hurt you
When I do this?

I love it, I hate it, I love it, I hate it too
I love it, I hate it, I love it, so how about you?

Can you tell me?
‘Cause I don’t know
Why don’t you tell me
Why is it so
Confusing?

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful that I can think through things better than I could before. Even though I haven’t been severely tested yet, every little piece of learning is helping to prepare me for any difficult situations in the future.


I’m quite envious of my students sometimes when I watch them laughing and playing together. I can feel the joy and excitement – it shines through their skin. It takes me back to those utter joyful days of excitement and wonder. Nothing else mattered except the fun to be had.

It has just struck me that the event that changed me was when we were at school at night time, to perform a play. All the students were there and lots of parents too. I had such a feeling of joy and connection that I wanted to kiss everybody. I was the same age as the kids in my class now.

When I wanted to kiss boys, I was mercilessly ridiculed by some of the more sexually advanced kids and they then gossiped to other kids and I left that once joyful night totally humiliated. Hmm. That night played on my mind for a long time and is obviously still clear to me now. Fucking kids.

From commonplace book

From quiet homes and first beginning
Out of the undiscovered ends
There’s nothing worth the wear of winning
Save laughter and the love of friends

Hilaire Belloe

To-do list

  • Start compiling exam questions ½
  • Check if emails can be compiled and printed ✅
  • Write more in school journal ✅
  • Can you find an opportunity to help someone
  • Keep practising – Think first, speak later

Strange day today. Only found out when I arrived that there was some event on all morning and there would be no lessons which meant changing my teaching plans somewhat. I really felt quite chill with everything today. Whilst others were complaining I thought it wasn’t useful. We always complain about the same things. We know they will happen again and again – so complaining isn’t going to change anything.

I sat in my classroom and did what I wanted all morning as I hadn’t been given any directive to be elsewhere. The lack of communication can work in my favour.

I compiled a bunch of outstanding emails and printed a bunch of things so I’m quite pleased with that. I started putting together the exam questions and have a few weeks left to complete all that.

I had lots of time as I also had no classes in the afternoon so I was able to read and write a lot. As I didn’t meet many adults today I didn’t really find an opportunity to help anyone. I would’ve liked to ask Kru Noon if she wanted me to do anything but I only saw her for about five minutes around lunchtime. I’ll keep in my mind that I should offer some help.

I spoke a bit more than necessary when I met some of the other teachers – must remember to keep some thoughts to myself. I didn’t overdo anything though. Just something to keep getting better at.

Tomorrow I will drive to Chiang Mai for my passport application. I challenge myself to drive more slowly – not over 100 km/h and to be more careful. I will go to Mohawk Bar in the evening and meet John Murrie – I’m interested in what he has to say about teaching and politics.

If I have time I will drop by International House and say hello. Also, if time and money permits I’d like to check out the bookshop that Oh recommended.

Let’s talk about luck, right? Let’s talk about it – 27th May 2018

The words contained in the title are not particularly related to the content of this post beyond the fact they are words I couldn’t get out of my head for these 4 weeks of study.

After my last post, some people on the course asked me what I was going to write in this one.  Which made me curious about what I would actually write and what people would think.  When a group of 30 or more people are shoved together for 4 weeks there’s going to be some drama.  In fact, there wasn’t really that much, to be honest.  We were – mostly – adults.

As new faces started appearing on the weekend, our peaceful processing of all things grammar quickly faded to distant regions of the brain.  By Sunday evening the place was abuzz with faces from across the globe.  It was quick to see that there was one Muslim group and another Chinese group of people.  They were all split across separate smaller groups on the first day, though that didn’t mean they didn’t stick together at most other times.  This caused some minor divides but about two-thirds of us were from other places and we all mixed together well enough.  It became apparent to me fairly quickly that it was good to talk to as many people as possible to get different points of view and different ideas – this made the idea of sticking in your little clique seem slightly self-defeating though it was an obvious comfort.

The Muslim group introduced themselves early on.  They were a group of teachers from Pakistan, seemingly lead by one, who we found out later was more a department head rather than teacher herself.  She asked if we like Thailand, to which we confirmed, only to be told that Pakistan is better.  As they walked off, she called back “Don’t mind me, I’m a jolly one!” which I thought rather odd and cute.

It worried me that there was a high percentage of teachers on this course.  Surely they would have a real advantage over those of us with no experience at all.  Thankfully they were given the task of teaching before the rest of us, which at least gave us an extra day preparation.  I also gave us a view of how other teachers go about their work.

So it was that on the second evening of the course we would watch the experienced teachers perform.  Whilst having nothing to compare with, I was mostly just concentrating on things that I saw that I thought I could use myself.  The following evening would be my turn and as I prepared during the night time and that morning I soon found the templates we could use to plan our lessons.  Although not needed at this stage it was obvious to me that they were useful guidance even not knowing how to fill them correctly.  I also made good use of the internet to see how previous students had done things and found valuable resources that would help with the assignments too.  Most of these were posted without comment so there was no clue as to whether they were good/correct or not but they at least provided ideas for the way to do things.  The CELTA folks are also pretty on the ball about plagiarism so straight copying would have been no benefit anyway.

During the daytime we were attended our own classes to learn all about the processes and skills needed to perform to meet the course requirements.  This is where I think that having no previous teaching experience was a benefit as starting with a clean slate was easier to deal with.  Experienced teachers were being asked to unlearn their methods and also they could see that the methods they were being taught may not be useful in their own environments, hindering their motivations somewhat.

So I opened my brain and let everything in and quickly adjusted to the tempo of the course.  The third evening was my turn to teach and despite sweaty palms and stuttering heart rate I went really well considering it was the first time I had ever done such a thing.  I could see that a well prepared plan made for a successful lesson so knew that this was where I should be concentrating my energies.  From here on out I enjoyed the planning and thinking about ways to improve my lessons based on what we were being taught each day.  And we were being taught a lot.

Again, I quickly surmised that there was no way we could learn, remember and incorporate everything we were being taught.  Based on feedback after each lesson you were advised what needed to be improved so it made sense to concentrate on that.

But then came the assignments. Each week a new assignment with ever decreasing deadlines.  They really interfered with lesson preparations, especially if you had to resubmit them as I had to on two of the four.  But again, it was apparent that there was no penalty for resubmission so it made sense to do your best for the first submission and follow the advice provided for the second.  This at least gave an extra few days here and there.

Everyone was warned at the beginning of the course that they would have to deal with critical feedback during the four weeks and some didn’t handle it so well.  I think I had a somewhat blasé attitude to the course after the first week.  After the initial stresses, reassurances from Amy to just do my best, and fairly positive feedback from my colleagues as well as our tutors I ended up concentrating on the end date and when it would all be completed and I would have my CELTA certificate.  This enabled me to cope with criticism of my teaching in a positive way.  After all, we were being told these things so that we could improve and ultimately so that we could pass the course.  Our teachers were obviously trying to help us, without spoon feeding us.

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At one point, one of the teachers from Pakistan complained to me that they weren’t being taught anything and that they were just being given advice on where to look to go and find out things for themselves.  Their background shows this method of teaching where someone stands at the front of class and tells the students A is A and B is B.  This is how they were taught (pretty much how I was taught too) and this is how they teach.

What was particularly surprising about the comment was that just 10 minutes before, everyone had agreed that this method wasn’t the best way for students to learn.  Being guided to discover the solutions for yourselves is generally a better way to retain learning.  At this point I realised that I could be a teacher.  If some of the people I met on the course were already teachers with years of experience I found myself thinking I could easily do a better job than them.  Whether I actually can or not in the future remains to be seen.  At least all these things put me at ease.

I was dealing with the stress of everything well enough, even as experienced teachers started coming to me for assistance with their plans and assignments.  The 50m swimming pool outside my window often begged my attendance but I rarely got chance to use it again.  I also found the best folks amongst my colleagues to ask for advice and guidance when needed.  One in particular, Iranian, London girl, Hedie stood out with her calm and methodical approach to everything, even as everyone around was in a spiral stress ball.  I was also lucky that she was teaching the same subjects as myself so we could understand and advise each other about approaches and develop ideas, whilst not just copying them directly.  Our own teachers were also very supportive with this and at one point our teacher jokingly challenged us to teach a lesson without speaking at all.  Fortuitously my next lesson seemed to fit the bill and when I told that I planned to have 0% speaking time she pulled me up and said she was only joking and that it would be really weird to not talk at all!  My hopes for the challenge slightly dashed I did however manage to keep my talking time around 10% and the class was brilliant.  I was really starting to get into the groove by this point and continued to push myself constantly, rising to the teachers challenges for the final lesson of the course, which unfortunately saw me come undone.  It was a slight bummer to end the 4 weeks on a less than positive lesson but again, I didn’t want to take the easy option and was just trying to push myself further.  All good learning experience.

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So it was, by the last day, everyone was now more relaxed and looking forward to their next adventures, whether continuing traveling or returning to teaching.  We headed into the city to partake in some alcohol, something I had purposely been avoiding this 4 weeks, but for me I couldn’t shake the sudden lack of stresses which resulted in a tired lethargy that saw me bow out earlier than the rest.

The final morning as a few of us walked up the road for a big breakfast I got a sudden feeling of Stockholm Syndrome.  I didn’t want to leave.  This place had been my life, fully consumed, for 4 weeks and now it was a return to reality.  That reality was now uncertain.  My head still spinning with 3rd conditionals and how to make a good reading lesson I would be thrust back into the world of gardening and job hunting.

There were many more stories, much more gossip and a whole host of feelings skipped over in this writing.  I wasn’t sure how I was going to approach this post and with time marching ever onward I wanted to get these words down before the memories fade further.

And the title of the post?  Some folks worked their way through their stress with meditation, relaxing music and yoga, some with alcohol.  I don’t know why, but the abrasive noise of Circus Lupus and Chris Thompson’s screaming put me right in the frame for writing lesson plans into the early hours.  Their two albums will now and forever be associated with this time.

“We’re all good people, all my people, just sitting around, drowned in sound,                        Open your eyes………                                                                                                                              Ennnnnnnd.”

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I got buckets full of time, I got nothing but time – 26th May 2018

“Time is such a deceiver.”

So, it’s been a while.  Who knows where the time goes? That was the original tagline but I got sucked in by the Leaving Trains instead.  In fact, there’s any number of songs that could be quoted for this post because… it’s been a while!

After the mad rush of Songkran, sobriety took hold out of necessity.  It wasn’t that I wouldn’t like to have had a drink it’s just that there wasn’t time.

I was secreted off to a rural location on the outskirts of Chiang Mai for a month of intense training in the arts of teaching English (CELTA – look it up).  Of course, being entirely ignorant of the subject, beyond speaking it for the past 49 years or so, I arrived early to get a little refresher on the witchery that is English grammar.  It was not nearly enough preparation.

I had been put to sleep many a time whilst opening a grammar book or watching videos on the subject.  Luckily we had a teacher who was a female version of my old pal back in Southampton, Rob Callen.  She was precise and accurate and even modelled some of the lessons that we would end up learning in the coming weeks, without realising it of course.

So, I said we.  I was joined by Tom, a recently retired American looking to support himself a little beyond what the pension there pays so he could spend six months living in his new house in Portugal.  Tom was also from an IT background so we bonded quickly enough around the bullshit that that involves.  We were both concerned about our abilities to be able to complete the course, knowing how intense we heard it would be.  Along with us was Victoria, from London, whose grammar knowledge shone in comparison.  Mid-30s, deciding on her future possibilities, whilst travelling to vacations and friends’ weddings around the world, she was a bright and bubbly counter to the two old blokes.

And so it was for the first 3 or 4 nights as we did a couple of days of grammar refreshing, in which I was mostly bewildered but also provoked.  English grammar does seem like the kind of thing I could get deep into and become the ‘grammar nazi’ amongst my friends.  Though considering we are about to learn how to teach English as a second language in a foreign country though, my relaxed attitude is more inclined to take precedence.

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Location, location…..

Our facility is structured like a resort hotel.   There are teaching rooms, a reception and a restaurant.  More importantly, our personal rooms are cleaned daily, there’s a laundry service and outside my balcony, there is a 50-metre swimming pool.  Oh yeah, there’s aircon too.  For some reason, the keycard in my room didn’t work properly so the aircon stayed on even when I wasn’t there.  What a blessing.

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With no pressure and performance ratings around the grammar refresher – we studied, we learned, we swam and we ate.  It was the calm before the storm.  Our little world was about to be shattered when all the other students would arrive.

And talking of storms.  One arrived about five minutes after I made it to my room on that first day.  There was a lot of damage to the surrounding gardens and it took the internet out for a while too.  Both storms and internet outages would become regular occurrences during my time there.

I guess the grammar refresher paid off a little as I can recognise myself switching in and out of different tenses as I write this but they seem to make more sense to me as I write them.

Anyway, the quiet was broken as other students started arriving, as well as our teachers too.  And this is where things sometimes got confusing as we were students, and we would be teachers so we had students as well.  On top of all the learning our brains were being jammed with, it was sometimes confusing to be calling home and talking about teachers (teaching us), teachers (us), teachers studying (many people on the course were already teachers), students (us) and students (who we were teaching)!

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Confused? You will be!  In the next episode of….. (Prizes for knowing where this quote comes from*)

* there are no prizes.