A Good Day in Khammuang

I woke up around six to the sound of my resident geckos chirping and the neighborhood cats scurrying across my roof, with some crowing roosters and barking dogs in the distance. With no option to snooze my natural alarm, I made my way downstairs to start my new morning routine of removing worms from the house. The house strictly follows the seasons in Thailand, and with each season comes a different onslaught of insects; I’ve survived my spider era, beetle era, ant era, and it seems as though I’m entering the worm era. They’re not to bad though, and they conveniently curl up into a tight ball to be swept back outside.

I biked to school at 8, occasionally smiling and waving at the students who sped past me on their motorbikes. Wednesdays are packed days for me, the only day where I have four back-to-back classes, an hour for lunch, and one more class to finish the day. I'm teaching daily routines to my M4 classes and hobbies to my M1s this week. Yesterday, I had attempted to teach my 4/7 class a game I created to practice their new vocabulary, but with my under-prepared instructions and language barrier, I miserably failed. Luckily for me, they implemented their own interpretation of my instructions to play a different game that was a huge success. After that class, I dropped whatever game I had envisioned before and played 4/7's new version with all my classes. I always learn a thing or two from my students. For my M1s, I did a few rounds of musical chairs, which is always a hit. It's entertaining on my end too; there's nothing quite like watching 10 year olds wrestle over chairs with the fear of speaking English in front of the whole classroom motivating their every move.

After my fourth class, I headed to the canteen to grab a quick bite. I saw three of my boys from my 4/8 class, and feeling a little extroverted, I decided to invite myself over to their table. I walked over with my plate of food and asked if I could join. Their faces showed a mix of shock and an inability to refuse a teacher’s request. I don’t think teachers usually sit with students at the canteen. Anyway, I sat down, and immediately, silence fell across the table. I tried making some small talk, “do you guys eat here everyday?” “do you like the food?” “what classes do you have later?” to no avail. Pretty soon, I was simultaneously scouring my mind for a better conversation starter that would stick while scarfing down my food as fast as I could to avoid prolonging the incredibly awkward interaction I had forced upon us all. After jumping from topic to topic and almost finishing my plate, I landed on music. Finally, something clicked, and the heavy discomfort hanging in the air suddenly dissolved. We launched into conversation about different types of music; American and Thai rap, R&B, rock, and more. One of the students shared that he loved all types of music, ranging from classical music to German rock. One of the students even started singing an English song he liked, with the other two quick to hop in. All three of them gave me artist name after name after I asked them for Thai song recommendations. Finally, it was the start of fifth period that ended our conversation, and I thanked them for letting me crash their lunch before we parted ways. 

I’m heading back to the states in a month and nine days, which is both terrifying and exciting. I’ve built so many relationships and made so many memories already, and I find that in these last weeks, I sometimes stop trying to make new ones. I subconsciously tell myself that there’s no point; after all, I’m leaving so soon. And I fall into the ease and comfort of the routine I’ve established here, not bothering to push past that initial barrier to do something new. Interactions like these remind me that five weeks is still five weeks, and down to the last day, I want to still connect with my community, challenge myself, and learn wherever I can.

After my final fifth period, I retreated to my office to physically and mentally recover. While all my classes went considerably well today, this week’s lessons are pretty heavy on the activities and games, which means there is a lot of yelling and large gestures involved. After five hours of that, my legs and throat always need a break. 

By the time 4pm rolled around, I was almost fully recovered, and I biked over to pencack silat practice. Everyone was sore from an intense session yesterday, wincing and laughing through warm-up stretches. We had three new students this week, and I ran my warm up laps with one of them. We ran in silence for the most part, not needing any words to communicate that we were both melting under the scorching heat. At the final stretch walking back to the mats, I finally broke the silence and asked her what grade she was in, launching us into easy conversation. (This one was much easier to start than the one at lunch– although it was also in Thai.) We talked about Thai and Chinese TV series, and she sang her favorite Chinese series theme song for me. We chatted intermittently throughout practice, and I was reminded that sometimes, that barrier to a new conversation or a new friendship isn’t that high. (And even if it is, it’s still sometimes worth it to push through that initial discomfort.) 

I left early around 5:30 to go to the weekly market with P’Madchim. Khammuang is a quiet town, but it’s weekly Wednesday and Saturday markets are extensive, with rows of fresh produce and hot foods. I got a fermented fish papaya salad with rice noodles and an Isan sausage, and P’Madchim and I bought some tofu, pork, beef, and fish meatballs and a few grilled chicken skewers to share. We brought our bags of hot food over to P’Madchim’s house and ate until we were full, giving a few of the leftover meatballs to our favorite neighborhood dog. I ended the night with a stroll to the 7-11 at the corner of the street for an ice cream bar before I walked home. These are definitely the days I’ll be missing a lot in a short month and a half.