OK. This is the first of three, probably very lengthy, updates in quick succession. Make a cup of tea or coffee or hot chocolate or whatever you want you fussy beggar and get reading. This one will cover whatever I can remember from the date of the last ‘proper’ blog up to about the 18th December. So one week by the looks of it.
The week began with some awful news that lead to a few sobering insights in to everyday life in this part of the world. A father of one of the students was shot dead by a man from Laos. Like anywhere in the world, rumours quickly spread as to why he had been shot (and as I write I have yet to hear an official version) – the most consistent one was drugs. The student was off school for all of two days before coming back. From this I guessed that death is a fairly familiar occurrence here and, coupled with a generally Buddhist outlook on life, is not perhaps the great tragedy that we see it as in the UK. The students and family received a gaggle of visitors from the school staff, who presented them with a whip round that the staff had donated to. I was asked to donate dollars or pounds, but having neither I couldn’t, and then for some reason they didn’t ask for any baht off me. Odd.
This event lead me to have a conversation with two of the English teachers at the school, Gene and Shell. I asked if the student was alright and then on to whether many students have a parent missing, absent or dead. I was told that it was commonplace for kids to rarely see their parents – they work in Bangkok and send money home, whilst the kids stay with the extended family. Indeed, one of the students that visits the priest’s house quite regularly only sees her mum and dad two weeks in every year during the summer holidays. A lad in one of the 2nd year classes is in a similar boat but also works when not at school (and don’t mean only in the holidays). His day starts at 1am, when he, his siblings and grandmother get taken to a rubber farm to work until 5am. They then come back and get ready for school. School starts at 8am, finishes at 3.15pm, he gets home at 5pm and goes to bed at 7pm. Another lad in the 4th year has lost his dad. And these cases were just what I was told over a 20 minute lunch break. I imagine it may only be the tip of the iceberg.
It was quite an eye-opener, particularly in the lead up to Christmas where thoughts usually turn to family and good times.
It wasn’t all doom and gloom though. I joined the church kids in carol singing around the village. They sung in Thai, I swung gently from side-to-side and smiled. It was quite nice really. It also let me explore more of the village. One house we visited didn’t seem to be much more than bamboo supports, woven cane walls (quite amateurish weaving if you ask me, and yes I am qualified to pass judgment) and dirt. An open fire in one room, two platforms as beds in another, and four generations of the same family in it – including a newborn baby. Comparisons to a stable and manger somewhere in the Middle East about 2010 years ago weren’t exactly hard to draw. I have video of some singing that I will try to upload and link to when I’m next in the vicinity of an internet of sufficient speed.
I received an email from and Old Applebian asking if he could visit. I had seen Adam Prance a couple of months before departing, and over a beer he told me he intended to cycle through Europe and aim to end up in Thailand some time in April. I told him I was going to Thailand and that he must look me up when he got here. Well, unfortunately for Adam the European winter closed in a little quicker than he had anticipated and was sending out a call for sunnier (and cheaper) climes. He intending to book a flight and land on Boxing Day, and could he come and meet up. Obviously I replied yes, as is the customary Appleby tradition. So his arrival was something quite short-term to look forward to, and I realised it would be good to be able to converse with someone at a normal speed.
This week also saw me receive a number of parcels bearing gifts – huge thanks must go to Mum, Dad, June & Ray, Helen and Karen & Neil for sending me cards, assorted goodies and stuff. I vowed not to open any of the presents until Christmas Day despite having a dire need to find new reading material. The presents were clearly book shaped (except Helen’s – more of which in a later blog) and temptation very strong.
The big event in school (other than death) was Sports Day! Throughout the previous two weeks various heats of football, volleyball, takraw, and petanque had been played. It’s fair to say that my team Reds didn’t do too well in the footy as previous blogs tell you. The finals were to be played on Sports Day alongside your usual races – sack races, the 25m x 4 dash (the school field isn’t big enough for a 100m race otherwise), dancing (dancing? In a SPORTS day?!), relay and tug of war.
The big day was upon us and it began with a parade around the village. Each team - Red, Blue, Violet and Pink (typically Thai “we won’t bother with simple primary colours, plus green”) - was lead by a gang of cheerleaders dressed up like beauty queens. Kind of. Hard to explain. The Red team was lead by something that could easily be described as “the Penrith Players do Moulin Rouge”. I will endeavour to get some photos up, again when I’m close to a worthy internet. Each team had their own style. So this shuffle and amble snaked around Tha Bom for an hour or so. The parade got strung out to the point where the marching band at the front was barely audible at the back for the cheerleaders to try to keep time.
We rounded the corner back in to the school and lined up in the blazing sunshine. Some man of religion said some words and then in a fantastic moment one of the 5th year lads appeared holding what looked like a flaming torch. It looked like a flaming torch because that was exactly what it was. Clocking that he was dressed in 100% man made fibres and the surface was a little rutted I did expect at any moment to see a spectacular melding of polyester to human skin. He coped admirably and rounded the corner to make his was out of the school. But hang on a second, what’s this? He’s running around the back of the team pens… over the tinder dry grass that hasn’t seen rain since I’ve been here… and now he’s climbing a 15ft ladder that seems to have been assembled from welded meccano held still by three other students and… shit he’s lighting a flame. Some first class health and safety top bombing there from the school. I have some photos…good internet…yadda yadda yadda.
And so the games began.
We all retreated under the open sided marquees that were the team pens. The cheerleaders were up first to show off their moves and glittery dresses. All the routines were set to the same bit of music, which as far as I could tell was the national anthem, but I’m willing to be corrected. I’d like to see someone attempt to cheerlead to God Save the Queen.
Some of lads from the Red team had taken the opportunity to purchase some stink bombs to throw around. Coupled high capacity waterbombs (red balloons that I had bought but neglected to tie to the Reds team pen) we had quite the arsenal with which to distract our rivals. The lads were daring each other to throw one in to the Pink team pen but none dared – fearing discipline from the Pink teachers. Seeing this as an opportunity to go down in school history, and claiming diplomatic immunity, I grabbed a stinkbomb and scuttled over to the Pinks. I loitered, spied an opening and delivered the payload. Probably only ground zero at Nagasaki has seen wider devastation. Probably. The girls, predictable, squealed like girls and ran off and the boys did likewise. The relay was delayed as crowd control measures were deployed and I returned to the Reds a hero.
Reds took many prizes that day; as did all the teams really. I think basically you got a prize for coming 4th even. Although, once 1st place had got their hands on a real trophy the remaining prizes seemed to be made up of sugary confectionery, biscuits and deep fried savoury snacks. Perhaps not the healthy image that should be actively promoted at a Sports Day but the kids seemed to be happy with it.
I finalized my Christmas movements. I bought a bus ticket to Pattaya, where I was to catch a connecting bus to Koh Chang island. I intended to spend 10 days there then head back to Pattaya to meet up with my good friend Graeme Meechin for New Years Eve, then return to Tha Bom on the 2nd. Adam was to make his way to Koh Chang and then come along to Pattaya – I furnished him with as much directional info as possible and made a lose agreement to meet on the 26th or 27th, depending on his luck and the efficiency of the Thai transit system. I didn’t really expect to see him until the 27th, given he was landing about lunch time on the 26th and it was his first time in Thailand.
My last day in Tha Bom before going away for Christmas involved a trip to a local mountain, Phu Reua, to see the sun rise over Thailand. I say local, it was still a 3 hour drive away, which meant getting picked up at 3am. It was, then, perhaps not the wisest decision to join some local fellas in another round of white whiskey/petrol the night before. Keeping a close eye on my three watches (…after a few rounds…), I thought that 5 hours sleep was quite enough. I was proved wrong when I awoke at 3.45am and ran around like a half drunk, half asleep rhino getting ready. Luckily Gene had texted me saying him and Shell were running late and would pick me up at 4am. Even at that point I thought we were pushing it to get to the mountain and up the mountain for sunrise.
I grabbed breakfast when we pulled in to a service station – nothing wrong with a chicken pizza sandwich, a pork ‘thing’ sandwich and a diet coke at 4.45am. We made good time but the sky was beginning to lighten and I still couldn’t see no mountain. The sky was brightening by the second as Phu Reua loomed in to view. We pulled in to another service station so Gene & Shell’s son Matthew could go for a wazz and at that point I saw the sun creep over the horizon… we didn’t achieve our goal. I did, though, see a splendid sunrise over the toilet block of Phu Reua’s souvenir shop and service station. Unperturbed we soldiered on; Gene was adamant that we should drink some beer at the top, so picked up four large bottles of Leo. I have to say I nearly sprogged up on sight of more alcohol but I kept it in and retained that stiff upper lip.
The good thing about Thai’s is they don’t like walking much. This means that car parks for mountain summits are generally about 500m from the summit. The sun was up and certainly had its hat on. We wandered to the summit viewpoint and took in the view below us, and pointed. I have to say it was very impressive and you could see for bloody miles – even all the way in to Laos a good 100km or so away (or so I was told anyway).
Sure enough, Gene cracked open the first bottles and we toasted Christmas, Thailand and Britain. That first swig was a hard one to swallow but I soon loosened up. Not bad for 7.30am. After talking and taking in the views we wound our way back to the car and to Tha Bom. I was in a hurry to pack as I was leaving that evening (18th December); Gene and Shell had some business to attend to in Muang Loei first though, which I was assured wouldn’t take long. Fours hours later, after sitting on a kerb waiting for two hours and sitting in a garage waiting for their car to be serviced for two hours we set off to Tha Bom. So much for a kip, shower and packing before I left. I had an hour to turn around. I managed it and I was whisked off to the bus station by Gene and Shell (again – they’re really sound people; probably closest things to good mates here in Tha Bom). I climbed aboard and set off. The twelve hours passed fairly quickly despite sitting next to a bloke who snored like a freight train and the racket of two Thai horror films; meaning I got 2 hours broken sleep before arriving in Pattaya…
Next update: Pattaya – First Contact; and Koh Chang Reunion. Hopefully tomorrow.
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