Hopping on the back of Elmo, I felt my own anticipation soar as my trusty motorbike sputtered to life. With a light grip, I fingered the cold exterior of my steel seat, knowing full and well it was my only safeguard to maximum impact; that is, my face colliding with the unforgiving concrete below.

However, today was a day for fearlessness. For palpable adventure. Today signified a journey into the unknown. With miles and miles of stretched highway before us, a crudely drawn map, and the sun on our backs, we were off to discover the lilypad lake of Sakon Nakhon.

A hodgepodge of shanty houses and wooden bungalows melded together in one fluid line as we raced further and further away from town. Looking up into the brilliant blue sky above, I suddenly felt untethered and freed from dismay in one fluid moment. Loosening my hold, I let my arms spread wide over my head as my hair whipped frantically about in the wind. Heaven.

In the totality of that instant, a rush of emotion brought me to one perpetual string of thought: This was right. Being here in Thailand at this junction in my life. For once, there was no second-guessing my direction.

Waking up at 7AM on a Saturday (one of the two days you have out of the entire week to sleep in, mind you) to act as a mandatory camp counselor may sound like pure drudgery. This was my attitude on the whole matter when contacted by Media Kids, my agency here in Thailand, to help organize and lead a high school English camp. After a long week of teaching, the very last thing I wanted to do was travel to Akat Amnuai and act as team leader for a group of kids who would probably abhor participating as much as I would. Oh, how my notions were misguided.

In short, I ended up embracing the day and having a blast with my brilliant students! You're probably wondering: Now just what is an English camp? Essentially, students pay extra money to enroll in English camps that take place every weekend throughout Thailand. The important thing to note here: these students want to be here and are seeking out other methods to learn English. This culminated in a very different vibe than my normal routine, which entails the forcing of kids who are reluctant to learn in a classroom setting. The day is generally scheduled with games, activities, and contests that disguise learning with "oodles of fun." I was a complete skeptic at first, yet I'm pleasantly surprised by how many laughs I had with my crew of youngsters.

The theme of the camp was "ASEAN Community" which stands for "The Association of Southeast Asian Nations." Recently, Thailand has begun to stress its vital geo-political and economic role in the world, in conjunction with Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Phillippines, Singapore, Burma (Myanmar), Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. The Thai government is aiming to embed the motto of "One Vision, One Identity, and One Community" within its schools. This way, students begin to learn more about the history, culture, and politics of the nine other Southeast Asian countries.

As team leader of "The Wolves," (each team was given a diverse animal mascot), I made up quite an impressive chant that had my students swiping their wolverine claws and howling in total badass-ery. We were given the ASEAN countries Singapore and Brunei (which I honestly had zero previous knowledge of). Our teams were asked to build makeshift museums and incorporate aspects of the country's culture in a creative presentation. Their innovation was certainly a sight to behold, as most of my group were phenomenal artists.

A clever exhibit of paper cuisine!

Cuties!

David, Charlotte, and Rina covered in baby powder after a messy game.

Teeeamwork!

BEEP! BEEP. BEEP!

You roll over: Your 600 baht Nokia cell flashes 5:45 AM. I still have 15 more minutes of sweet, sweet slumber.

....BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You roll over again. This time, with disdain, knowing full and well this wake up call is for real. 7:00 AM. Shizah!  You jump out of bed in haste, race to brush your teeth, slip on a slightly wrinkled blouse and a matronly black skirt that practically grazes the floor, and fly out the door.

The clock strikes 7:30 AM and somehow you've managed to stumble to Sakolrajwittayanukul's front gate. Sweeping your hair back into what you hope is a sleek, professional look, you then plaster the biggest smile you can muster on your face. "Good morning!" "Hello!" you chant over and over like some perverted parrot to the sea of students flooding the school entrance. In this small junction of time, you can already feel the sweat pooling on your lower back and beads of moisture sliding down your cheeks.

Just another start to a teaching day in Thailand.

Indeed, this was the beginning of my first week and life as "Teacher Christine" at Sakolrajwittayanukul School, the largest and most prestigious high school in the Southeastern province of Thailand. The school has about 4,000 students ranging from ages 12-18. I have the pleasure of teaching a grand total of 880 students, comprising 17 classes. If I could sum up my job as a high school teacher in a third-world country, I would relate that it's not altogether hard, but entirely taxing. Note: the classrooms have no air-conditioning, so by the time I'm done teaching a fifty-minute class, I'm drenched in sweat and running to my next lesson looking like a waterlogged train wreck.

My Matayom 1's (12-13 year olds) English ability levels are all over the place, which has made teaching that much more difficult. These little hooligans also have attention spans equivalent to goldfish and are just entering puberty, so you can imagine how much time I've had to spend managing the classroom, rather than truly teaching. For example, last Friday I was introducing myself, and a student in the back literally pulled out a guitar and started playing. Although I complain, these kids challenge me everyday, and I now thrive off of their defiance. They are so receptive to my seemingly "witty" jokes and are interested in having a giant, pale falang teacher in their presence, that I can often use this outlandishness to my advantage.

I also teach Matayom 6 (17-18 year olds). These students are in their final year of high school, and most are planning to attend university. Simply put, they are my angels. They are conversationally adept at English and most importantly, are quiet and diligent workers when I give them an assignment. Although I must deal with different problems (like the class cooing "oooohh" when I choose a male student for an activity), I'm able to relate to this age group more and talk to them on a personal level.

I'm still adjusting to the 9-5 working lifestyle, yet it feels good to be busy and making money once again. I have a great friend base here in Sakon Nakhon, which are a mixture of American and British foreign teachers. Everyday Thailand grows on me! I now see why so many people travel to this country thinking they'll visit for a couple of months, then end up staying another five years. The food is amazing, the people are helpful and whimsical, and everything is so cheap. How could a starving, post-undergrad student not love it here?

The hustle and bustle of The Wax Castle parade in Sakon Nakhon.

The renowned wax castle!

My newly-built apartment complex.

My lavish room!

Our Thai girlfriends at the local club, The Golden Pond, on Halloween.

"Modeling" for a co-worker's new Thai textile line.

Morning assembly on Scouts' Day.

The English Department office (aka, my second home).

Teacher Christine and Teacher Rina, too early in the morning.

Traditional Som Tam at a Thai wedding I attended.

Yes, I'm embarrassed to admit that I gave in and used an obligatory, pun-tastic blog post title.

For those of you that don't know, wat equals temple in Thai. My recent adventure to Chiang Mai was rife with wats, wats, and more wats. You think I'd be wat-ed out by this point, but it's safe to say that I found each one as utterly stunning as the first in this remarkable city.

I am now happy to announce that I'm a fully qualified TEFL teacher! After woofing down breakfast in a somewhat half-drunken and hungover state (it was an eventful last night on the island, to say the least) we crammed onto our buses and headed to Bangkok. After that eight-hour journey, I was faced with my first big challenge in foreign Thailand: traveling by myself on a Thai bus, headed north to Chiang Mai for another ten-hour, overnight journey. Thankfully, everyone I encountered along my expedition was friendly enough to take pity and help out a poor, pale falang. I arrived in Chiang Mai at the ungodly hour of four am and was greeted by my favorite adventurer, Forest, at Wat Pra Sing (the city's famed temple).

The next five days, without a doubt, have been my most memorable spent in Thailand. Forest took me to Wat Pra Sing, Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, another temple located by a waterfall and frequented by one of his Thai students, the Chiang Mai Zoo, and the renowned Sunday night market. Aside from these amazing locales, I must stress how delicious the food was here. When stuck on Ko Chang, it meant being confined to one fixed menu that simply did not do Thai food justice. In Chiang Mai, I sampled delectable gyoza, mango sticky rice, spicy tom yum (which, honestly, my poor palette could not take), thai momma's pad thai, and a vegetarian dish that I still don't know the contents of. It was nice to be led around the city by a seasoned traveler who knew the layout well, and who has also made Thai friends. I was able to converse with a monk at Wat Pra Sing and even teach him a bit of English. I also took great pleasure in laughing and joking with the food stall cooks on Forest's street, who are some of the nicest Thai people I've met thus far.

Doi Suthep

Tranquility at its finest.

Gimme your best cheesy Thai pose!

The hustle and bustle of the Chiang Mai night market.

Mango sticky rice...mmmm!

Veggie delite!

Overall, I felt so completely immersed in the culture when I was in Chiang Mai. The city had a perfect mixture of falangs (foreigners) and local Thai people who were so warm and welcoming. I can honestly see why so many people flock here to live and work. Best of all, everything was so cheap.

Now, I'm finishing up my orientation in Bangkok (when I'm going to stop frequenting this maddening city, I will never know). On Tuesday, I head to my placement in...dun dun duuuuuuun... Sakon Nakhon! It is a city in northeastern Thailand, located by Laos and Vietnam. Initially, all I knew about SN was that it was renowned for its locals eating dog. Thankfully I was able to talk to a teacher at my orientation who just finished his semester at the same school I will be teaching at. He could not stop gushing about SN, regaling that the people are friendly and our school is the best one in the Northeastern region of Thailand. This means more access to resources and modernized technology in the classroom. He said that because the school is the finest in the area, the students are very eager to learn and already know an advanced level of English (score!). Starting November 6th, I will be teaching 14-18 year olds ECD English, which stands for English Communicative Development. I will essentially be responsible for teaching Thai teenagers listening and speaking of conversational English.

I am so excited to get settled in Sakon Nakhon and finally have a place to call home. Although I've absolutely loved traveling for the past month and a half, I'm getting weary of living out of my suitcase and being sleep-deprived.

Bring on the next big adventure and my first real job!

My time here on Ko Chang island has been a strange mixture of holiday and school work. No stranger to the balance of work and play (thank you, UCSB), I've had the opportunity to squeeze in some pretty phenominal excursions. This past weekend, a big group of us jetted off to snorkel around four islands south of Koh Chang, in the Gulf of Thailand. We were taken by our Thai instructor, Rungwit, who was able to converse with the Thai tourist company and lead us around the breathtaking islands.

The last time I went snorkeling had to have been in Maui, roughly seven years ago. So you could imagine my excitement to witness the gulf's sea life and be out in the sun all day. Thankfully we were blessed with gorgeous weather and crystal-clear blue water that made for some amazing exploration. I was able to see a variety of colorful fish, sea anemones, crabs, and sea cucumbers around the last island we visited, called Koh Wai. In essence, complete tropical paradise. Total cost of the trip: 500 baht (roughly $14). Not bad for transportation to and from Ko Chang, a full-day of snorkeling, and a delicious Thai lunch buffet.

Our shuttle to the first island.

Rungwit, the pimp.

Rina and I don't mess around when it comes to snorkeling.

Did I mention I'm loving Thailand?

"Teacher, teacher!" "Teacher, wainam, teacher!"

These exclamations would be the death of me: a fledgling teaching intern expected  to manage a class of 4-8 year olds with no previous knowledge of English. Except for "teacher!" of course.

So began a life-altering day filled with fear, anticipation, excitement, and great uncertainty. Now, I know with a little teaching assistant experience under my belt I should have been strolling into that Cambodian school with a confident swagger. Wrong. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to relate to these young children. At least with teenagers, you remember the palpable awkwardness of that time in your life. The night before my teaching day, I racked my brain for any recollection of what it was like to be a four-year-old. Zip, zero, zilch. I was going to have to wing this one.

After downing breakfast, our group hopped in the taxi and headed to Cambodian Kids, a school on Koh Chang comprised of young refugees from Cambodia. After thirty minutes of driving, we turned right down a shrouded path leading straight into the jungle. In the moments traversing to the school, I had my first exposure to a third-world shantytown. Decrepit houses were slopped together with sheets of tin. Stray dogs littered the rock-strewn road. Cambodians and Thais were gathered on their front porches; some with drawn faces and others with looks of bewilderment at the sight of a songthaew filled with white farangs. All I could do was stare back in wide-eyed shock.



Once parked, we got out and began to traverse a stream leading to the school. We were met by a hoard of children, screaming, "teacher, teacher!" and I was abruptly taken by the hand and guided across the stream by an exuberant little girl. Upon arriving at the steps, I realized the "school" was literally one open, concrete room with a few whiteboards, desks, and chairs. Dozens of muddy puddles pooled on the ground, in which I had the pleasure of teaching barefoot on. Case in point: this was not your standard American school setting.

I was first to teach. My topic? Body parts. Thankfully I came prepared with flash cards and mustered up as much enthusiasm as I could to entice these youngins to pay attention. With extravagant gestures, smiling, and a loud, clear voice I'm proud to say that I kept their attention for most of the lesson. My favorite part of it all: hearing my own American accent repeated back to me in the most dramatic manner and their sheer eagerness to participate in the games I used. After my lesson ended, we had a fifteen-minute break, so I went outside on the playground to interact with the students. There were many more shrieks of "teacher, teacher, picture," lots of piggy-back rides, and even a game of basketball.



After the school day ended, we all piled in the songthaew (kids included) and headed back to Siam Bay Resort to go to the beach. The wonderful quality of this outing was that a majority of these children had never been to the sea. The afternoon was filled with swimming, laughter, and all around fun.




This was my first taste of "real teaching," and I can honestly say that it has changed my life. To see these destitute children come to life in the classroom has not only boosted my confidence, but has also given contextual meaning to teaching English as a foreign language. These children became my own for that short span of a day and have truly touched my heart. If my next phase of teaching in Thailand is anything close to this experience, I know that I came here for the right reason.

Today, October 1st, marks the 12th day I've been in Thailand. If you ask just about anyone in my program, they would say it feels like their 30th. There have been so many learning curves during this short period of time that I feel as if I've conquered the world...or at least a tiny island in Thailand.

The mosquitoes (once catalysts for severe scratching and frequent blubbering) are now considered punctual flatmates that arrive at our door promptly around 6pm. Geckos are another interesting addition to the communal hut, in which I have quite a sad story to relay. After enjoying half of a lovely gin and sprite night cap, without delay, I slipped into a deep slumber. The next morning, I awoke to a ghastly sight. There in the glass cup swayed a waterlogged gecko, floating belly-up. We could only surmise that he went out with drunken bang.

This past weekend was our first spent on Ko Chang island. We decided to play tourist and go on an elephant trek, of course! I was full of trepidation before departing for fear of the ecotourist company beating the elephants. Thankfully, this was not the case at all. They treated them gently and had them trained mostly by oral command, which was very impressive to witness. The elephants traversed through the jungle, then in the river flowing through Ko Chang. We were even able to swim with them! Getting up close and personal with an elephant in the water was so surreal. I recall stroking it's long, leathery trunk and staring into its beady eye, thinking: what an amazing animal. I will miss Eloise (the name I gave to our sagacious elephant) and all of her quintessential beauty.

Bet you can't spot the blindingly white elephant rider!