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!