Visa Run to Bangkok

I realize that I haven't posted as much as I'd like about my life in Mandalay but time and poor internet have been barriers.  Besides, how much do you want to hear about my routine?  Got up at 5:30 a.m., was at school by 6:15.  I play Simon says.  I play Math Bee with the kids, which is a game I invented out of desperation in Samoa.  It is low tech and the kids here love it.  And, it's a great way to get the kids to practice "doing math in their heads".

I could write about making kids cry.  No, I don't do it on purpose and I hate it, but it happens.  Most recently it happened last Friday.  We had a new student.  His day seemed to go well.  His mom and older sister picked him up and he was smiling.  10 minutes later he was back in my room, delivered by another teacher.  Seems he and his family somehow got separated.  We cuddled, his mom came back, it was ok.

So much for the minutia of my day.  Let's move on to the visa run.  Thanks to the Myanmar government, I have to leave the country every 70 days so I can come back and get a new visa.  My school pays for my flight to Bangkok.  They try to combine it with holidays so we can make a vacation out of it, if we choose.  I chose to stay in Bangkok for my week off.

The school packed a bunch of us in the bus yesterday for the 45 minute ride to the airport.  Spirits were high.  Most weren't staying in Bangkok.  Two were off to Chiang Mai.  Another was heading to northern Thailand where she served as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  Another was heading for Beijing.  Three headed to Siem Reap, to visit Angkor Wat.

I checked into my hotel with no problems and it was everything the internet promised.  The room is smallish (although huge compared to European hotels) and is sparkling clean, new and very nicely furnished.  Plus, the location is outstanding.  Usually when a hotel says it is a two minute walk to the train, they mean its two minutes if you are an Olympic sprinter.  In this case, they were exactly right.

I was cranky yesterday when I got to the hotel.  I've got a nagging problem that started last week with my leg.  No biggie, but it hurts and it made me cranky.  Then I realized I hadn't brought my credit card/ATM card.  I should have enough money and if I run low, I can take out cash on my AMEX card.  But it annoyed me.  What, this is my first trip and I forgot something that basic?

I got over my snit and got a great night's sleep.  This morning I woke up early but then dawdled, which I love.  I was planning to head to Chatachak market but it was overcast and threatening rain and that, combined with the fact that 200,000 people go to that market every weekend kept me in my air-conditioned room.

After dawdling, I headed out to explore the neighborhood.  At 10:00 a.m. street vendors were setting up and the grills were already fired up.  I'm in a great location, close to several high end luxury hotels and an amazing mall.  After walking for a couple of hours, I hit the mall to have lunch at the food court.

Asian food courts are NOTHING like American mall food courts.  Yes, it's fast food, but it's freshly made and healthy (mostly).  And, very cheap and delicious.  The drill at Terminal 21 mall is that you first buy a card - you can charge it for as much money as you'd like.  I chose $6 USD.

I walked around checking out the vendors for almost half an hour.  The place is large and was packed.  I finally just opted to join the longest line, assuming the locals knew what was up.  While I waited the five minutes in line I tried to decide - pad Thai or fried oysters?  I went with the pad Thai and it was delicious.  I went to another vendor and got a plate of sticky rice topped with coconut cream and perfectly ripe mango. A wonderful meal in a clean, attractive, air-conditioned environment.  Plus, I had the company of Mr. Kindle.  All for $3.00.

I'd visited the grocery store in the mall and was disappointed in the lack of Mexican ingredients and the high prices.  I headed down the street to another grocery store, which was definitely cheaper although still pricey. And still didn't have the stuff I was looking for.  I found Italian seasoning and a packet of taco seasoning (at $4 a packet) but neither store had sweet pickle relish.

As I was leaving the store I realized it was pouring outside.  On my way in, I'd stopped just outside the store to check out the prices at a small spa.  Since I was waiting for the rain, what better excuse to go in for a massage.  60 minutes, head, shoulders and back.  It was sort of Thai, sort of Swedish and all wonderful.  Done without oil and clothes on.

It was 4:00 p.m. when I got back to the hotel and I'm whipped.  My leg is still sore but I think the walking helped.  Now it's time to kick back and relax.  Tomorrow I'll be checking out more street shopping and leaving the high priced mall alone.  Except for the food court.

I Finally Saw the Real Mandalay

I’ve been here just over a month now.  It feels like home, in a good way.  I’m settled, have a routine and am really enjoying teaching.  Up until last week, though, I’d only seen the upscale version of Mandalay.  On the school compound it is clean, safe, well-landscaped and only English is spoken.

When I’ve left the compound it was to go to Diamond Center, an upscale (for a developing country) mall, where I can buy all sorts of imported stuff.  If I’m willing to pay the price.  A tiny, fun-size Snickers bar?  $6.50.  A delicious locally made pineapple “moon pie”?  $.15.  I’m sticking with the local stuff.  Except cheese.  And the other day I found bleu cheese for $2.50, which is cheaper than the USA. 

I’ve also been to City Mart, another upscale store where I can buy Dom Perignon, if I’m willing to pay $131.00 a bottle, which really isn’t that bad, compared to what it costs in the US.  I can also have a cappuccino for a buck.  Bite me, Starbucks.

The only other place I’ve been, twice, is an upscale restaurant called Café City.  It’s very nice, the air con is chilly, the beer frosty cold and the food delicious.  The prices show that it is for the wealthy and foreign but the prices are still low, compared to the US.  I had a veggie pizza and a large beer (with an iced mug) for less than $10.  The pizza was large enough for 3 meals.

Last week, though, I had a couple of opportunities to see more of the “real” Mandalay, which lies literally a quarter of a mile away where the roads become more rutted and the rice paddies begin.

On Tuesday, the lead Montessori teacher asked if I wanted to drive with her to the market.  I was at school, prepping for the day but she assured me we’d be back in 15 minutes.  She took me to a market about 5 minutes away (in her car) which sold fruit, veg, meat, flowers and was clearly where the locals shop. It was a small outdoor market and the people were lovely.  One of the things that impresses me here is the genuine warmth of the people.  They make eye contact, they smile, they nod.  They do not walk past, pretending you don’t exist.

I entertained one guy at the market when I tried the prepared tea salad, made from marinated tea leaves.  I tasted the first and liked it.  The second was very spicy and very sour.  I made a face and the man hanging out with the vendor almost hurt himself laughing.  I bought the first option.

Driving to the spot for our first grade field trip, Nature’s Life,  I saw life in the “suburbs” and rural area around Mandalay.  People working hard in the rice paddies.  Small shop owners.  Stalls by the side of the road selling barbeque and other foods.  People going about their daily lives.

The roads are not in great shape.  Many times traffic had to change to one lane because there were too many potholes.  Even in the outlying areas are trucks, horse-drawn carts, cars and motorcycles competing for space.

The countryside is beautiful but the people are poor.  There are many reasons for that and I don’t want to turn this into a political blog so will let that go.  Many of the same issues that plague developing countries world wide exist here.

One thing that stands out is the friendliness of the people.  I can’t tell you how many times I look out the window of the car or bus that I’m riding in and make eye contact with a stranger.  Who smiles, waves, nods or in some way positively acknowledges my presence.  In one case there were three young men in the cab of a large truck.  As we moved through traffic, we’d occasionally pass each other.  Each time, the passengers in the truck smiled and waved at me.  Imagine if that happened in the USA.  Lots less road rage.

Is the Honeymoon Over?

As with all good things, familiarity breeds annoyance.  I realize that’s not the actual quote, but it’s my blog.  I’d planned to wrap up my lesson plans on Saturday morning, then do a bit of sightseeing.  I’ve been here three weeks and really haven’t seen anything but two main roads and a mall and grocery store.

It was raining Saturday when I headed to school around 6:30.  I made good progress on my lesson plans and even with some socializing with my assistant teachers and another couple of teachers who dropped in, I was done by 11.  It was still raining hard so I used that as an excuse to just hole up in my apartment.  Movies, Mr. Kindle and me.  With the occasional nap thrown in.  A perfect Saturday.

On Sunday it was still a bit rainy and overcast and I decided I really wasn’t in the mood to go out, so once again just enjoyed the privacy of my room.  I gave myself a mani/pedi, read a book (yes, the whole thing), watched Capote, which was excellent and napped some more.  I finally got into the shower about 2:00 p.m. and then strolled outside to see if there was anyone around. 

It’s much like living in a dorm here.  People hang out on the open walkways, chatting and making plans or in the common lounge.  If you want, there’s usually someone to socialize with.  I knocked on the next door, home of Jodie, a 50 something woman from northern California.  She’s also new and we have a lot in common.  She wasn’t home, but arrived a few minutes later and came over to tell me about her day.

She’d spent the day with her assistant teacher (all the assistant teachers are locals), going to a monastery for a special alms ceremony.  She’d enjoyed it and said she got some great photos.

We talked for a couple of hours and then got ready for SUNDAY NIGHT SHOPPING.  That’s all in caps because it’s one of the two big weekly events.  The school bus pulls up, everyone who wants to climbs on board and we head to Diamond Plaza, the only mall in Mandalay and the home of Ocean Super Store. 

When I first arrived I was very excited about Ocean.  Large, stocked with almost all things a palagi could want and air conditioned.  It’s also crowded.  I’m not sure why but Sunday evenings (we leave at 6pm and return home at 7:30 pm) are packed.  It’s rush hour on the streets and Ocean is packed cheek to jowl. 

That’s when I realized the honeymoon was fading.  People pushing, too many people standing in front of displays so I couldn’t see what I wanted, let alone get close enough to grab it.  Most annoying was that I’d come primarily for fresh vegetables and the pickings were slim.  No bok choy.  No cucumbers. 

After half an hour of being tossed about like a leaf in a stream, I called it a day.  I did score maple syrup.  And I stocked up on some other “western” items.  Mayo, peanut butter, whole wheat bread.  But I was hot and sweaty as I waited in the long checkout line.  The doors outside are left open so the air conditioning doesn’t have a chance to keep up.  And the families in front of me in line kept sending out scouts to snag last minute items to add to their baskets.

I was tired of being stared at.  I was feeling grumpy about people checking out what was in my buggy.  Ok, perhaps that was a little guilt since it looked as if I was shopping in Publix in Lake Mary rather than in Asia.  There was nothing Asian in my buggy.

I almost got clipped by a motorcycle as I crossed the small street in front of the mall, lugging my backpack and bags of groceries.  I made it across the big road without incident and climbed on the bus.  Unfortunately, as I was tossing in my bags and climbing up into the bus, the driver started the engine and rolled back a few feet, so I just threw myself into the bus.  Not graceful but it worked.

I sat there, sweaty and waiting for the driver to turn on the air con and considered why I hadn’t enjoyed the shopping.  Ocean was the same.  It was my attitude which was different.  The rose tint in my glasses was fading.  As I stood in line sweating and smiling at the people staring at me I was wondering why I wasn’t in line at Publix, where no one really gave a crap about what I was buying.  Where I could whell my groceries out to my car and then drive them into my garage, about six feet from my kitchen.  Next time, I’m going back to City Mart, which is MUCH less crowded and feels more like shopping than rugby.

On the ride home, I enjoyed watching all the activity in the streets.  The air con had really kicked in and the sweat was drying.  As we approached the school one of the teachers said “The moon!”  I looked over and saw a huge crescent moon hanging over a brightly lit gold pagoda.

The honeymoon isn’t completely over.

Stuff I've Noticed in Mandalay

The other day I took the 10 minute ($4) cab ride to the grocery store.  I had a relaxing Friday night planned and just needed a few dinner ingredients to make it perfect.

I enjoy using the rides in the cab to both talk to the drivers as well as watch the world going by the window.  The streets, which I've seen at 6:00 a.m, and 9:00 p.m. as well as times in between are invariably busy.  Crowds riding motorcycles, bikes, driving cars and trucks and walking.  Open air shops and restaurants full of people.  Workers in small open air workshops building furniture.

I've still seen only a very limited amount of Mandalay because of the limited transportation but each time I'm in town I love looking at the details.  Here are some things that I've noticed:

Less than a block from Citi Mart, where I like to grocery shop, is a billboard advertising scholarship opportunities.  I was surprised to see that the University of South Florida was one of the schools involved.  When I get home I'll have to see if I can connect with Myanmar students in FL.

Many of the small clothing/tailor shops have mannequins on the "sidewalk" in front of their stores. I put sidewalk in quotes because it is frequently so cracked and pitted that it is barely walkable.  Anyway, in front of the stores are mannequins.  My favorites are the blue ones which look like aliens.

I'm still amazed at the number of passengers who perch on the backs of motorcycles while not hanging on in any way.  I really can't begin to describe the chaotic traffic and how often drivers have to slam on their brakes or swerve.  I think they have velcro on their butts to keep them on.

Last night I was at Diamond Center, which houses restaurants, shopping and Ocean, which is like a mini version of Super Target.  The excitement of shopping there is always leaving the mall to cross the street to our school bus.  There are no traffic signals.  Pedestrians do not have right of way.  Traffic is fast and scary.  It doesn't help that it was dark and many of the motorcycles either don't have or use lights.

The traffic seemed a bit heavier than usual last night as I waited to cross with two large, heavy bags.  Or perhaps my nerves just weren't up to it.  I like to wait until there's a slight break in traffic and then step out in front of motorcycles instead of cars.  My theory is if they hit me, it won't hurt as much.

I waited so long yesterday that a local woman and her young child joined me.  When I stepped out, she stepped out.  I think she figured that at my size I could stop any oncoming traffic.  We made it through two lanes and then had to stop in the center of the road to wait for a break in the next two lanes of traffic.  We were standing on the solid yellow center line which is about 4 inches wide.  Traffic zipped by in front and behind, leaving us buffeted in their wake.  I've gotten used to this wait and try not to focus on my vulnerability while standing there. 

I was doing fine with my two companions at my side until I looked to my right and saw headlights coming toward me.  Directly toward me because the driver of the car was straddling the center line. If I stepped forward, I'd walk directly into a passing car.  Same with stepping backward.  I held my ground and just watched the headlights get closer.  About 5 feet away from me, the car veered into his own lane, cutting off a motorcycle, which slid into the lane closest to the curb, which cut off two motorcycles, one of whom ended up on the sidewalk, the other slamming on his brakes.  There was much horn honking and yelling.

I just continued waiting for a few seconds and then slowly stepped into on-coming traffic and crossed.

All my life I wished for the excitement of travel.  This was not what I had in mind.  But I made it home safe and sound.  Past the alien mannequins, past the beautifully lit pagodas, past the smells and sounds of a community which embraces spices and outdoors. 

Daily Life in Mandalay

Every place I’ve been, there have been cell phones.   Farmers in Malawi have them.  Teachers in Samoa have them.  Young kids in America have them.  In Mandalay, they don’t have them.  Yes, they exist here, but they are expensive.  $300 for the cheapest phone, $300 for a SIM card.  I heard the prices will be coming down, but they would have to come WAY down before I’ll invest in one.

My apartment smells like poop.  And it’s not because of anything I did.  It doesn’t always smell this way, but occasionally, there’s a definite odor of sewage.  Apparently it comes from the drains.  Someone suggested I use incense but then it would just smell like shitcense.

I took my first spin on a motorcycle.  Admittedly it was just circling the drive in front of the school, but I did ok.  With a little practice, I’ll be ready to hit the road.  But I have some concerns.  Traffic here is crazy – people driving the wrong way down the street.  People making random turns.  There is no insurance.  The nearest healthcare for any even moderately serious issue is Bangkok.  Several other teachers have been in accidents.  Sometimes their fault, sometimes not.  While I want the freedom a bike would give, I’m worried about getting hurt.  I have to climb stairs to my apartment and my classroom.  If I end up on crutches I’d have a tough time.  Right now I’m leaning toward getting a motorcycle to use to tool around the countryside and stick with taxis in the city.

Wait until you see the new paint job on the front doors to my classroom.  They used to be beige.   My class is officially “First Grade Yellow”.  There’s also First Grade Red and First Grade Blue.  The first week of school we decided to name our class.  The kids created a list of yellow things then voted and selected Sunflowers.   I was relieved, since some of the other options were PE Uniforms (theirs are yellow), shoe and cheese.  The door is now painted like a field of sunflowers.  It is beautiful!

It’s now Thursday evening.  After another trip into town last night to shop, I won’t be riding a motorcycle in town.  That will significantly limit my mobility but the traffic is simply too horrendous and dangerous.  At one point last night I was looking out the window of the bus at the family of four riding on a motor bike next to me.  Then a truck swung into their lane and they were almost crushed between our bus and the truck.  Not enough room to move ahead to get away and barely enough room to slam on the brakes and miss being squished to death.  That kind of thing is common. 

At one point there were at least 30 motorcycles stopped in the middle of an intersection – trying to either get across or turn left into the lane that was trying to get across.  Many were facing on-coming traffic, which included our bus, heading at them and not slowing.  They had nowhere to go to get out of the way.  Even if I could manage it without incident, I’d be a nervous wreck.  My decision was confirmed when I got home.  Walking upstairs to my apartment I tripped on the last step and went down on all fours, with my groceries scattered about.  I think it was God saying “Dummy, you can barely walk, do you really want to try to take it to another level?”

I’ve looked for a couple of items at three different stores and haven’t found them.  Flour  and maple syrup.  I didn’t expect it to be real maple syrup.  Or even good maple syrup.  Just some kind of Karo thing, since French toast is one of my go-to meals when I’m too pooped to cook.

The other thing?  Flour.  I know they have it because they have bakeries.  Where they sell tasty éclairs for $.50.  And whole wheat bread.  So they must have flour.  Several of the other teachers share my fondness for Mexican food.  One kind gent even said he’d share a can of refried beans which he got in Bangkok.  We have all the ingredients for guacamole and salsa and they’re easy to make.  I could whip up some flour tortillas if I could find flour.  Plus, the guys checking out at the store in front of me had some peppers that looked like a cross between poblanos and cubanelles.  I’ll check those out next trip to the store.

I’m ¼ of the way through next week’s lesson plans, which should mean I won’t spend all day Saturday working.  That would be nice.  I plan to hire the tuktuk driver I heard about and see how that goes.  It’s amazing that I’ve been here almost 3 weeks and still have seen so little of anything but my classroom.  It’s been fine, especially when I first arrived and was both sick and jet lagged, but now I’m ready to play tourist.

Well, I’m officially angry and frustrated at the school this morning.  I overslept a bit this morning.  I like to be up by 6 at the latest so I can get dressed and have breakfast and still be out the door by 6:30.  This morning I didn’t wake up until 6:15 and rushed to get out by 6:35.  That may seem fast to some, considering that involves showering, blow drying, makeup and dressing but when one is a natural beauty it can be done quickly.

I was happy to arrive at school before the rain started.  Only 6:45, no one else there on the internet so I could get some work done.  Possibly even get a lot of next week’s lesson plans finished.  I have a routine in the classroom – first I turn on the power.  Next is the air conditioning, since even though it’s only about 80 at that time of day, the room is warm and stuffy.  Next I turn on the computer and log in.  While the computer does that, I fill my Hard Rock water bottle.  Today I brought a special treat of lime juice powder to add to the water.  It’s surprisingly tasty and refreshing, although I’m sure it’s mostly sugar.

All was going well.  Typical morning.  Until I tried to log in.  I got a message that my account had been disabled and I should check with the administrator.  That means I can’t access the shared drive which has all the work the students will be doing today, the videos for the dance routines I use to transition from one subject to another and my unfinished lesson plans.  It also means no access to the internet.  Yesterday Yahoo kindly blocked my account, apparently because someone in Myanmar was trying to access it.  Oh, that would be me.  I had to wait 24 hours to access it.  That would be this morning.

Internet is spotty here, it’s a country wide issue.  At the school it is pretty much unavailable after about 10:00 a.m. because there are too many users.  I could come in late at night or really early in the morning to have enough time on the internet but they turn the servers off.

I’m fine with getting in at 6:30 am six days a week so I can have internet access and do my prep work (downloading materials, etc.)  But when I’m blocked from doing that, with no warning, it pisses me off.

I suspect I was blocked because yesterday I asked the IT guy for help in installing the most current version of the VLC media player so I could watch the videos stored on the shared computer in the lounge in our apartment building.  When he tried to do it, he found a virus on my external hard drive.  Since that drive was fine before I got here and I’ve only used it on the computer in my classroom and the one in the lounge, it seems I had to get it here.  He said he would come to the apartment to check out the computer there.  When I arrived he was gone and the computer was gone with him. 

Since I’d agreed not to use my infected hard drive until we could resolve the issue (it looks like he’s going to have to reformat it which could mean losing everything on it), I’m not sure why he blocked access to my account.   All I know is I could still be in bed, listening to the rain instead of sitting in the classroom with no access to any materials.  Grrrr.

By the way, my sunflower door is finally complete.  It really is beautiful and the art teacher put a lot of time into it.  As a thank you, the kids wrote thank you letters and I gave her a chocolate bar.  She was thrilled.  Chocolate is relatively expensive here ($2.50 for a Cadbury bar) and what young woman doesn’t like chocolate? 

Birthdays!  I’d been warned about impromptu birthday celebrations.  Parents (or their servants) will drop off a cake and expect everything to stop for a birthday celebration that might last an hour.  Plus leave the kids on a sugar high for the rest of the day, since the cakes normally arrive shortly after the start of school.

Yesterday was the birthday of one of the kids and I was prepared.  I wrote “Happy Birthday, Joseph” in giant letters on the white board and drew balloons.  I mentally adjusted the lesson plans to account for the change.  When Joseph arrived, he seemed a little embarrassed to tell me that there would only be a party after school.  No cake.  I was relieved but also a bit disappointed.  No cake.

Later in the day I had the kids line up in order of their birthdays so we could have a list and anticipate the impromptu parties.  It went well over all but they are first graders.  One little boy knew his birthday is in August but didn’t know what day.  Another boy, when I asked what day his birthday was, excitedly yelled “Tuesday!”  “This Tuesday?”  I asked.  “No, December Tuesday!”  Okay, then.

Speaking of birthdays, isn’t it funny that one of the girls and I share a birthday.  Halloween.  I had a job once where there were four of us working together.  It was a newly formed group and the job I moved to Florida to take.  I was a bit surprised when I walked into the office the first morning that the first thing anyone said to me was “When’s your birthday?”  When I said Halloween my three new co-workers started howling.  It seems that three of the four of us were born on Halloween.  We decided that was the criteria used in the selection process.  They let the fourth guy in just so it wouldn’t look like discrimination.

Photos of Mandalay from the Ayeyarwaddi International School

We are Grade 1 Yellow.  The class voted that we be the Sunflowers.  The art teacher with help from my asst. teacher replaced the beige door with the field of sunflowers.  This morning when I got to school, there was a butterfly perched on one of the flowers.

Sunset from my apartment building.

View of my apartment building from the roof of the school.

Looking east, toward the hills and rice paddies.  Taken from the roof of the school.  We're on the edge of town, about a 15 minute drive from downtown.

Our competition - another international school, just across the road.  Education is highly valued here.

View toward town.

If you look on the low hill on the right you can see a gold pagoda.