Customer Service, Logic and the American Embassy in Bangkok

It seems that the American Embassy in Thailand is one of the largest in the world.  Given that it is run by the federal government, I assumed there would be a certain amount of bureaucracy when I discovered I had to visit to get fingerprinted.

Making an appointment on line was fairly straightforward.  I was optimistic that the visit would also go smoothly.  I wasn't happy that it was going to cost me $50 to be fingerprinted, but needed them to get my CA teaching credentials.

I was a bit stressed when I arrived for my appointment because I arrived with minutes to spare before my appointment.  The taxi driver seemed disappointed when we arrived at the Qatar embassy and I wouldn't get out of his car.

First I stood in line at an outside booth.  After forking over my passport and a copy of my appointment ticket, I was given a security badge and told to wait in another line in front of the door.  I waited there for about five minutes and then was allowed into a small area where I confirmed that I had none of the restricted items on me.  No packback, camera, cell phone, etc.

I was directed to the fourth line and watched as my purse was put through an x-ray machine.  As I was preparing to walk through the x-ray, I was stopped.  The guard asked what electronics I had in my purse.  Oh crap, Mr. Kindle.  I assumed there would be waiting and it wasn't on the restricted list so I brought him along.

I was politely told that the list of restricted items had changed and I could not bring my Kindle in.  Nor could they hold it in the area where they were putting cellphones, cameras, backpacks and other items from non-Americans visiting the embassy.

I asked what I should do, since I had come to Bangkok for this appointment.  I was told I should go outside and give my Kindle to someone on the street.

"Excuse me?" I asked with total confusion.

 "Yes, just go outside and ask someone to hold it for you, then come back."  the Thai employee replied.

"You mean, just hand it to anyone on the street?"  I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, a man walked that way and then came back without his camera. You can do that, too."

"But I don't want to lose my Kindle."

"No, no, you'll get it back, just give it to someone to hold."

Now, I trust Thais as much or more than I trust Americans.  But there is no chance that I would trust a stranger on the street to just stand there and hold Mr. Kindle until I came back an hour or two later to collect it.  But, as the employee pointed out I had no choice if I wanted to get in the Embassy.

I headed out and asked the first security guard outside the building.  He didn't speak English but pointed with great vigor down the street so I started walking that way.  I asked another embassy guard a block up the road.  He didn't speak English either but his gestures encouraged me to keep going in the same direction I was headed.

I spotted a high rise office building and thought perhaps they would allow me to store it in their reception area.  I was incorrect.  And, it was pretty clear that I was not the first American to ask them to hold an item and they were not amused.  They brusquely told me to keep walking to the market, a few blocks down the street, and give it to someone there.

I kept walking.  I chatted with two more security guards who both kept waving me down the road.  As I approached the market I saw a man standing next to a card table.  He immediately approached me and in English asked if I needed to store something so I could go in the embassy.  It seems he was a clever entrepreneur who was taking advantage of the new, tighter restrictions at the embassy.  For 100B, about $3.20, I could leave Mr. Kindle.  He gave me a receipt and I hotfooted it back to the embassy to start standing in line again.

While I waited in line I overheard a young guy having a similar discussion with embassy security about his backpack.  Seems he had flown in the night before and his wallet and passport were stolen.  I explained the mystery of the "give it to someone to hold" and also gave him the 100B he needed.  I figured it could be a scam but if it was he was working really hard for very little money.

I finally got back into the building and through security an hour after my appointment time.  I was waved in the general direction of another building on the compound and told to go there and check in.  I waited in line again (line #7) and was excited to get to the head of the line and explain why I was there.

You can imagine my reaction when he explained that they don't do fingerprints but could give me a map to the one police station in Bangkok that could do them.  "But when I made the appointment it said on the website that you did them."  "Maybe we used to but we don't now."

He went on to explain that I would need to contact the FBI in Washington to request the proper cards for fingerprinting and that I need copies of at least 4 different documents in order to be fingerprinted.  At that point I was so frustrated I thought I'd read over the Thai police requirements he'd given me later.

I figured as long as I was there I might as well get pages added to my passport since I'd need them sooner or later.  I was directed to the cashier to pay the $82 fee.  I asked if they took American Express since I only saw signs for Visa and Mastercard.  And after all, it is AMERICAN express.  And I wanted to pay the AMERICAN government.

The cashier said she didn't know if they took American Express.  She said sometimes they do.  How does that work?  She asked me to wait while she checked.  Several minutes later she came back and said it worked.  Yippee!

Then I was told to slide my receipt and passport through a slot in a window.  That made me nervous, since I had no receipt or proof that I'd left it there but since I didn't have a choice, I shoved it in the window and as instructed headed to the waiting room.

Forty five minutes later my passport was returned and I was on my way back to collect Mr. Kindle.  He was there waiting and after I forked over the 100B, he was safely back in my purse and I was headed back to the hotel.

I needed a nap.

Observations and Tidbits

Since I'm cooling my heels in bed for a couple of weeks, working on getting over this stinking leg infection, I've had lots of time to think.  Not deep thoughts, mind you.  Just thinking about random stuff.  I thought I'd share.

• I don't think it's a good idea for the nurse to write an expiration date on a piece of tape and put it on your hand when you're admitted to the hospital.  I thought I only had five days to live.  Then day five arrived and I realized that it just meant I had to get a new IV port.  That was a relief.
  
• Who else wears all those giant pajamas that they had in the hospital?  Green is for boys, pink is for girls.  I thought they were unisex but after the first day in green the nurses made sure I only had pink.  I really liked them except for the fact that the top had strings that tied together instead of buttons.  Even when they stayed tied, there tended to be gaps which showed off my cleavage.  Not the look I was going for when chatting with the priest.
  
• Is is just me or does it seem funny that they play American country western music at the fancy new mall (Terminal 21)?
  
• Tuk tuks are quickly becoming a thing of the past.  I'll miss them.  But I do enjoy riding in the Pepto Pink taxis.  Too bad I can't wear my giant pink PJs while I ride.  If I'm ever really rich I'm going to have a vehicle collection.  Sort of like Jay Leno.  Except I'll have a tuk tuk and a Segway.
  
• Kids say the darndest things.  My kids sit in teams of 4/5.  We randomly switch up the teams every 2 weeks.  The kids are used to the drill and seem to like it.  They know they'll compete as a team and have chances to win prizes based on how they do following the rules.  After they form their new teams, they choose team names.  Some things the kids said recently:
• One boy, as he watched his team coming together, slapped himself on the forehead and said "Oh no, we are not clever!"  Then, as two more kids joined the team he started laughing and said "Oh, it will be ok.  You're clever!"
• A sensitive little girl was very distraught because her team chose a name other than "Hello Kitty", the one she wanted.  As the kids moved on to an activity, I rubbed her back and talked to her about compromise.  With tears and snot flowing, she turned big brown eyes up to me and with deep emotion said "I know but "Hello Kitty" is so beautiful!"
  
• Why do so many countries add so much sugar to orange juice?  At breakfast the OJ and guava juice both look delicious but they are too, too sweet.
  
• The hotel where I've been staying, Citypoint Hotel, is full tomorrow, so I have to change to another location.  I'm moving closer to the hospital.  It's called the Dubliner.  Yes, I'll be staying in an Irish hotel which is over an Irish pub in Bangkok.
  
• I've never owned an Ipod.  I've owned two Kindles.  No question, if I was trapped on a deserted island, I'd go with books rather than tunes.
  
• I ate Subway yesterday.  It was cheaper than in the US but tasted very much the same.
  
• People in Malawi, Thailand and Myanmar (three countries where I've spent time recently) all have much thinner people than the USA.  But it's hard to find diet sodas.  Am I fat because I drank diet soda?
  
• It's considered a syndrome when a song gets stuck in your head.  Is it also a syndrome when a craving for a certain food won't go away?  For me it was a burger and salad.  I've had those (although not an American burger) so I'm over that craving.  Now it's mashed potatoes.  Luckily, I can take care of that easily when I get home.
  
• I prefer vegetarian pizza.  I'm not that choosy about the toppings but have to say that corn and cauliflower on pizza are not my favorites.  And using ketchup as the sauce is just wrong.
  
• When the kids made pirate hats they wanted to wear them constantly.  I figured "Why not?" so let them wear them all the time.  What's cuter than 29 little pirates taking a math quiz?  Now I'm researching other hats and masks that we can make - and how I can tie them into the core curriculum.  
• At home in Myanmar I don't have a telephone, internet or television.  But I can still procrastinate and waste time like an expert.
  
• In the hospital, they checked my vital signs regularly.  That included me informing them of my bathroom habits.  Every two hours I giggled when they asked "How many peepee?  How many poopoo?"  It feels a bit lonely now that no one cares.  BTW, in Mandalay "peepee" is "light" and "poopoo" is "heavy".  It seems that #1 and #2 are not universal.
  
• The prices in Bangkok have really gone up but today on the way home from the hospital we passed a flower vendor.  Two dozen beautiful roses for about $1.50.
  
• I had to look online to find out what day it was today.  And what month.  Is that a bad thing?

The Perfect Vacation

I was really looking forward to a week in Bangkok.  Technically, I had to leave Myanmar so that I could reenter the country to renew my visa.  But it made a great excuse for a vacation.

I had lots of plans.  I was scheduled to arrive on Saturday and planned to dine on Mexican food for dinner, then relax.  On Sunday I planned to go to Chatuchak market - an enormous weekend market.  On Monday, I had an appointment to go to the Embassy to get my fingerprints.  I need them to get my CA teachers' certificate.  After that, I planned to walk, shop, eat street food and relax.

Those were my plans.  When I arrived Saturday, I walked from my apartment to a nearby Mexican food restaurant and got a fix.  Not great but it was Mexican food.   On Sunday, I wasn't feeling 100% and my leg was sore so I passed on the big market and chose to just walk and window shop on Sukhumvit road.  After a few hours, my leg had had it and I headed back to enjoy WIFI and cable TV.

On Monday I headed to my appointment at the Embassy.  My experience there deserves a post of it's own.  Bottom line, it took 2 hours to discover that they no longer do fingerprints.  As long as I was there, I paid $82 to have additional pages added to my passport, since I'll be needing them sooner or later.

After my experience at the embassy, I strolled up the road and picked up some street food before heading back to my hotel to chill for the rest of the day.  I still just wasn't feeling 100%.

On Tuesday, a friend from Mandalay came to my hotel and we headed out for brunch and then to find the special police station where the embassy had directed me to get my fingerprints done.  Happily, as much as a hassle as it was to get into the US embassy only not to have my needs met, my experience with the Thai police was just the opposite.

It did start off a little shaky when we were asked for ID to get onto the police compound.  Jodi and I both whipped out our passports but the guards frowned and said no.  They kept asking for our hotel card.  I pulled out a business card from my hotel but that got another frown.  Jodi pulled out her Myanmar drivers' license and that got a big grin.  Who knew Myanmar ID would trump an American passport?  I realized later it was probably because they were going to hold the ID and probably knew we wouldn't be comfortable handing over our passports.  I think they were actually hoping to have us hand over a hotel key to ensure we came back.

20 minutes later I'd been fingerprinted and thought I was home free until the official asked for a copy of my passport.  I didn't have one.  He sent us off to get a copy with some sketchy directions.  We headed in the direction he pointed to and because I'm a woman, I immediately stopped the first guy I saw to ask for help.

He was well dressed and being escorted to a car by a number of police officers - more like a boss than a perp.  I really meant to get the attention of one of the officers standing by the sidelines but the "boss" asked in perfect English what I needed.  I explained and in Thai, he directed an officer to make a copy of my passport.  He explained that they don't normally do that but he wanted to help.  As soon as he knew I was set, he got in the car and was off.  I'll never know who he was but I'm very grateful.

Next, we were off to find the pharmacy where Jodi needed to get some prescriptions renewed.  She wasn't sure exactly where it was and assumed we could just walk around and find it.  By then, my leg was killing me and I just felt generally puny.  We walked a bit and then I sat and enjoyed an iced tea while she did a bit more shopping.  We decided to both head to our separate hotels and I begged off dinner.  I felt bad about it but just didn't want to push it any more.

I walked several blocks back to my hotel and then just relaxed for the rest of the day.

On Wednesday, I bit the bullet.  I knew my leg was getting worse, not better and I had to see a doctor before heading back to Myanmar on Friday.  I figured I'd wait a few hours at the hospital, see a doctor for a nanosecond, be given some pills and be on my way.  I was incorrect.

I registered at the hospital and was sent to a nurse for triage.  I seemed to be the only foreigner in the area and English was not widely spoken.  The first nurse looked at my leg and touched it.  She immediately called over another nurse who then called a third nurse.  I was asked to have a seat.  A few minutes later a young woman came over and explained that she would escort me to the Emergency room because I needed to see a doctor right away.

Ten minutes later I was on my back on a gurney with a doctor examining my leg.  About 30 seconds later he explained that I needed to be admitted immediately because I had an aggressive infection that could be life threatening.  And, the worst thing I could do was stand or let my leg be below heart level.  Ok, he had my attention.  I was ready to be admitted.

My English translator escorted me to admissions where things hit a snag.  I had to put down a 30% deposit for my stay.  That's when I found out that my stay would be a minimum of seven days, at a rate of B10,000 per day.  I had about B10,000 on me.  They accepted credit cards but only MasterCard (and mine was safely in Myanmar) and Visa.  I had American Express.  I was sent off to find cash.

I headed back to my hotel, feeling crappy and a tiny bit freaked out.  After hours of trying to figure out how to come up with thousands of dollars, when it was the middle of the night in the US, I finally got help from American Express.  Who knew that if you have a medical emergency overseas and they won't accept AMEX, they'll wire cash.  I was on the phone with a charming guy in Wisconsin for almost two hours and he arranged for money to be wired to a bank near my hotel.  I limped over there and with cash in hand was ready to head back to the hospital.

I arrived back at Camellian Hospital arriving just after 5:00 p.m.  I'd started at 9:00 a.m.  At that point I wasn't worried, I just wanted to lie down and be left alone.  They put me on a gurney in ER to wait for the doctor to get back from rounds.  When he arrived I moved to another gurney for the trip to the ICU.  The doctor was concerned that I might have a bad reaction to the IV antibiotics and wanted me to be closely monitored.

Once in ICU I faced the first real challenge.  Pajamas.  I was surrounded by a covey of nurses when one walked up with some pjs and the other nurses started taking off my clothes.  I called a halt and using sign language, asked if the pjs were lovely Thai woman sized or big fat butt American sized.  The nurses looked at me.  They looked at the pjs and the nurse holding them started laughing and turned around to get a larger set.  She returned with a pair so big that two sumo wrestlers could have fit in them.

They they connected me to all possible machines, informed me that my temp was 102 and my blood pressure was too high.  So far, we'd acknowledged that I was fat and sick.  I was looking forward to the good news.

That didn't come until the next day when they announced that I'd been there 24 hours, hadn't had a bad reaction to the antibiotics and was being moved to a step down unit.  One nurse and I were especially happy that I was leaving ICU.  We'd had an "encounter" at 3:00 a.m. that morning.  I was dozing and she crept up behind me like Ninja warrior.  When she grabbed my wrist to take wrestle me into submission (or take my pulse) it intersected with a dream I was having and as I came out of the fog I screamed and leaped as far away from her as my medical tethers would allow.  That caused her to let out a yelp.  For a moment we just stared at each other and tried to get our heart rates down to normal.  Since I was being monitored, mine set off alarms which drew several other nurses who had a good laugh over the situation.

After a quick ride on another gurney I was installed in a lovely private room.  And I had to pee.  Because I'm not a fan of bedpans and that's all I had access to in ICU I'd been holding it.  What I hadn't factored in is that while I was in ICU I had stress induced gout attacks in both feet.  Now I had painful stumps at the bottom of my legs and the original sore leg that I came in with.

Five brave, tiny Thai nurses decided they could surround me and muscle me into the bathroom.  I wanted to stagger there alone since if I fell, I was going to take somebody out.  The next day when I told the priest about it he laughed and said they were short staffed so please don't crush all their nurses to death.

It wasn't the best start to my "new" vacation but for the next five days I relaxed.  I read.  I watched marathon seasons of The Sopranos.  The nurses brought me food, gave me bed baths and brought me drugs.  Who could ask for more?  Well, I could and I didn't care if I had to use a chair - I finally got to shower on my own.

It wasn't the vacation I'd planned.  It stretched out more than a week longer than planned.  But I'm on the road to recovery and I'm very grateful for the excellent and empathetic care I received.  Besides, I'm a veteran couch potato.  What's better than being forced to do absolutely nothing for awhile?

Mandalay Photos

Bet you thought I'd be posting Bangkok pictures, didn't you?  They're coming, but first, I want to take advantage of having WIFI to upload some photos from home.  Away we go...

It was raining when two of the staff rode to work, so they left their umbrellas to dry.  This garage is directly under my apartment.

Near the Nat festival in Mandalay.  Horse drawn wagons are still commonly used.

Fair food!  If they cook it, I'll eat it.

Delicious prawns that are fried in some kind of batter.  I ate them like the locals do - shells, heads and all.  Roughage.

It was hot and these looked great.

Did I mention it was crowded.  This is my eye view.  Yes, I stand out in a crowd.

Nice fabric but since I was sweating the blankets didn't appeal.

My former next door neighbor trying on a cool hat made of papier mache.

Flowers for sale to be used as offerings to the Nat spirits.  It looks like green coconuts but they're not.

A cool instrument.

So you have any idea how hard it is for someone built like me to get up after dining this way?

Friendly man with beautiful baby.

Worth tilting your head for.  I was taking a photo of a pagoda and he wanted his picture taken.

People hand money to the guy in white who folds it and puts it in the tiger's mouth.

It's easier to take a bucket bath when you're this age.

A human powered ferris wheel.

They climb up and start climbing across the top to get it going.  Then, while it is going really fast, climb down and jump up to catch the seats to slow it down.

I doubt if they have Workers' Comp.  

This is typical of how I was greeted every where.

Psi is loved in Myanmar.  These were large balloons.  That's Jodie's head in the middle.

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.