Bangkok from the rail link

Coming home 1

In my name

For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.
Matthew 18:20

As a young Christian this line used to piss me off something fierce.  I remember asking Rudd, the vicar of my church, "Am I not good enough if I am alone then?".  I used to imagine I would be in great need of God and be on my knees begging for help and God would holler down, "Hey Trace, go and get a couple of mates and I will be right with you.".

Now I know better.

The force that Christians call God is just as present for the individual as for the group, and indeed doesn't perceive a distinction between us singular or plural.  This was just a "bring a buddy" marketing campaign to make a new faith viral.


**aside**  When we go for coffee sometimes Dom makes a heart out of the receipt and gives it to me.  This is one of his hearts.

Escape and stories

Interesting how this blog was working better as a private journal.  As soon as I went public (i.e. told Dom) I started 'writing for' instead of 'writing about' and I lost the momentum of introspection.  But yesterday I was lying on my yoga mat listening to stories. Don't worry, I was still in the Floment, but stories were rising... and I listened and let them go like a good yogini.  Anyway, I realised I still needed this space. I am so full of stories and they clutter me up.  Yoga is physically, mentally and emotionally easy for some and hard for others.

Hard for me.  But good for me too - helps me sift through the stories and let them go.  But ultimately when you struggle with yoga you need more than one mat.

This is just another mat.

Sheep

I took this on the train from Nottingham to Glasgow.  It was a five hour journey and much of it was lovely.  This is somewhere in Cumbria, maybe Penrith.  I (and you may not believe this) was taking a photo of sheep.  The train was passing field after field of sheep and I thought "Cool, I should get a photo".

I rummaged  around (sheep sheep), got my phone (sheep sheep) held it up (sheep sheep) and took the photo (no sheep).  

And I swear I didn't see a single sheep from that point to Glasgow.

Well I exaggerate.  I got bored of waiting for the sheep to return after 10 mins, and put my camera away.

So this is a photo of an empty field, but immediately to the right - just out of the shot - there is a field absolutely packed with sheep.

The title stands. It's a metaphor.  Or metaphysical. Something.

Seized by Rhythm

Rhythm.  I don't have much, but what little I have finds it very hard to resist a marching band.

I blame my mum who, every year, dressed me up and had me follow the Mablethorpe Carnival Parade: Aged 4 - Little Bo Peep; Aged 5 - Mary Mary (quite contrary); Aged 6 - Turkish Delight girl; Aged 7 - Water Tap (hey there was a water a shortage, and I won Best in Parade for that outfit) and Aged 8 - Anne Boleyn (posthumous).

 Then I was too old to be cute and so I proudly followed bearing a flag and wearing a Brownie and then Girl Guide uniform.  I like uniforms too, but that's a whole other post.

 Anyway I caught a few minutes of the St Patrick's Day Parade in Nottingham - long enough to take a bad photo (above) and resist the seductive pull of several marching bands.  If I had let myself go I might still be lost; lying under bushes somewhere in darkest Nottinghamshire, mussed and twitching, with bits of green crepe paper in my hair.

Gratitude

This is my Gratitude Journal - every day I am supposed to write five things I am grateful for in order to remain focussed on life's positives.  I got the idea from a new (very inspirational and thought-provoking) friend on Facebook, Marike.

• I am grateful for inspirational and thought-provoking friendships.

The journal is a lined exercise book with a firm card cover, wrapped in a really soft cloth that snaps shut with a very satisfying way.  The pen is a Cross and has my name engraved in the centre.  My husband bought me both for Christmas.

• I am grateful for a generous and loving husband who knows not only that a pen and a journal will please me but also that having my name engraved on the pen and choosing a book wrapped in soft cloth with the perfect snap makes the difference between a wonderful gift and the perfect gift.

Did you notice that they are green?  I find myself suddenly smitten with green, he knows that too - it is a relatively recent love affair, but he picked it up quickly.

• I am grateful that my husband is quick to notice the new things that please me.

I am wrote in it two or three times in January and then I stopped because our cleaner moved it from its position next to my bed to a new location underneath a pile of books on my dressing table.  I am disappointed that - as so often happens with  resolutions and intentions born over the New Year period when change, growth and self-improvement is at the forefront of our minds - what was so enthusiastically and determinedly taken up was so quickly and carelessly forgotten.

• I am grateful that I have a cleaner, even if she is a bit rubbish sometimes.
• And I am grateful that I have a big pile of books on my dressing table - I may complain about clutter, but having the material wherewithal to have clutter to complain about is a blessing.

But failing to do one thing doesn't make me a failure and I am able to forgive myself.  I can start again, and again and (if necessary) again until this becomes routine or I can find other ways of being consciously and specifically grateful for the many good things in my life.

• I am grateful for the ability to forgive myself.
• I am grateful for the fact I have choices and I am able to recognise them.

The reason I raise this now is because on Tuesday I looked for the pen (picture above) that in a sense 'came with' the journal I couldn't find it, and for a short period I feared it was lost which was very distressing.

Stuff isn't important, but the meaning behind stuff is.  This pen in particular has a very powerful meaning for me as when Dom gave me the pen I was upset because I thought we couldn't afford it.  I find it very hard to accept expensive gifts - even modestly expensive ones like this.  Although Dom and I have discussed and dealt with my difficulty accepting gifts of value before it is one of those things that comes back and has to be rediscussed repeatedly.

So you can imagine the idea that I had lost this very precious gift was even more painful.

• I am grateful for the reminder that I have treasures that must be taken care of even if those reminders are painful.
• I am grateful that if the lesson needs to be repeated it usually is.
• I am grateful for Dom's patience.

But I found it, and - to cut a long story short - I am very grateful...

for friendships and inspiration
for a clean yet cluttered house
for the pen and my name engraved in silver
for the lessons in giving and receiving and losing and regaining
for the colour green and notebooks covered in soft cloth
for my loving and patient husband who thinks of details

I may even start writing in my journal again.

The Management

I don't know if the CID wear blue shirts, but EFL teachers do.  I have always had this mental correlation between my male English teaching colleagues and plain clothes policemen that I am pretty sure is based on the very tenuous idea I have that when they aren't wearing uniforms the boys in blue ARE actually wearing blue shirts.

I am - in D&D alignment terms - lawful good, and so I am predisposed to like policemen and managers.  And it is a predisposition isn't it? Groups of people (as opposed to individuals) are either good or evil, depending on you... not them.

I like these guys lots, but that is because I have known them for years - and not just a consequence of my natural (and yes, slightly sycophantic) fetish for authority.  I won't print names but they are our current Assistant Teaching Centre Manager (seated) and our two Branch Managers. They aren't normally this amusingly hard-at-work but were faking it for my photo - being more commonly slumped with their head in the hands and some evil financial spreadsheet in front of them.

Look at those post-its though - organization, we haz it.

Sweetly weird

No matter how long you have lived in Thailand (sixteen years if you are asking) there are some things that never stop being weird. Taxi drivers plucking their facial hair away with tweezers while stuck in traffic, girls talking on the phone while sitting on the toilet, ice in beer are examples that spring to mind.  A lot of people get used to the last one quite  quickly, but others don't.  I guess all Thai quirks are personal and subjective; easy to assimilate or or not depending on your personality and experiences.  Nothing is inherently more weird than anything else in a global sense.

Thai puddings were weird for me for a long time.  Before living in Thailand I was used to food that divided obediently into two camps dinner (savoury) and dessert (sweet).  Thai food is known for its heady mix of sweet, salt, sour and spice which results in some delicious main meals like Tom Yum (spicy sour soup) and Som Tam (green papaya and veggies chopped and shredded  and mixed with chilli, garlic, fish sauce and palm sugar).  We know a little sweetness in our dinner adds to experience.

But the flip-side is that savoury items sometimes show up in sweet things and this takes a little more time to get used to; a pinch of salt in lime juice and a twist of salt, sugar and chilli with a bag of fresh pineapple.  The desserts themselves often contain items which I think should remain on the other side of the pudding fence like sweetcorn and black soya beans (photos below). I think it was 3 years teaching in St Gabriel's and eating sparse (if you are vegetarian)  school dinners that did it.  I started eating the desserts with long teeth under sufferance that gradually and almost imperceptibly became pleasure. I knew I was here for the long haul when I slid my metal prison tray along the rails and thought "Mmm green noodles in iced coconut milk, my favourite."

So although I am used to it, this sweetly weird country still surprises me.  Especially when - like in the menu above taken in a very western style cafe yesterday the little bit of Thai weird is hidden among more mainstream favourites.  Mmmm, waffles and ice cream with a choice of toppings:  butter and maple syrup... chocolate and banana... mix 5 colour beans... mango and... wait, what was that third one, beans?!

    

He thinks he is hiding

He really is ridiculous.

Enjoy with one-stop for all your groceries

I thought friends from overseas might like to know what everyday things look like.

You all know what temples and tropical beaches look like, don't you?  So when you close your eyes and think of me in Thailand you might get a whiff of that context... palm trees, reclining Buddhas possibly the more edgy among you imagine a hot chick gyrating around a silver pole* and the ubiquitous Bangkok traffic.

Unsurprisingly my life rarely contains any of these things, however the supermarket aisles you see above are a (at least) bi-weekly feature of my life.  This is my local supermarket - Villa, a chain known for being reasonably well stocked with the more western type produce and organic fresh veg compared to the more typical Thai supermarkets like Tops. It's a decent supermarket but when I say stocked, I use the term loosely as when they run out of something they sometimes replace it with that item, and sometimes with something else.

In fact I think the one thing that I notice about Thailand is the frequency with which things completely disappear off the shelves.  Forever.  Indeed, popularity does not guarantee consistent stocking; it is like they aren't trying to make money but aiming for some other less obvious key performance indicator, like colour coordination

Manager: For fuck's sake stop ordering Tipco White Grape and Kiwi juice will ya? It totally clashes with the Pomegranate and Cranberry.
Stock supervisor: But it is our best selling item!
Manager: I don't care, it throws the whole shelf out - my soul weeps every time I go down aisle five.

Another theory is they follow me around and make notes of the items I get partcularly attached to and consign them to a branch in a far suburb called "Shh Don't Tell Tracy".   Aside from the aforementioned fruit juice this platonic supermarket of my imagination is currently stocking Hormel's Vegetarian Chilli,  the frozen hash browns in the brown box, Lipton Berry Tea (in bottles), chai tea, Fab liquid clothes detergent, Sunsilk Shampoo in the clear blue bottle and the aniseed flavoured Herbal Plax mouthwash with no alcohol.

Enjoy with one stop, my ass.

*Incidentally, from my (limited) experience - Thai go-go dancers don't gyrate like those wildly sexy  acrobatic pole dancers in the movies, they rest one hand on the pole and shuffle from one foot to another looking bored.  And occasionally they toss their hair. 

What's on your mind?

Facebook.

You know I don't really like it?  I did at first.  I played Human Pets (yeah I am weird like that) met lots of new people - bought and sold them, and I loved it.  I also played (fluff) friends (less weird, unless a forty year old feeding pixel bunnies bothers you) met lots of new people - petted their critters, and I loved it.

But now?  Not so much.  Most of the games I enjoyed died and although a few friendships have lingered, without the weirdly addictive activities to support them, they are somewhat mundane.  Which leaves me with the people I actually know and their status updates - and they are just witty ways of telling the world what you did today.  Some people are really good at status updates, and others just seem to use them as a vehicle for psychosis and neurosis.  But either way it is mostly what I did today / saw today, or sadly what my more interesting friend did today / saw today.  Nothing wrong with it, except it is real.  And real isn't always much fun.

Last weekend we rebuilt The Northlands. We had to, we had been hacked and try as we might we couldn't get rid of the malware.  Delete and restart was the only option.  The Northlands had been in a pitiful state (of course I blamed Facebook, and with good reason - most people admit the reason they have stopped posting on discussion boards is because everyone is on Facebook) but the deletion and reconstruction gave us a new lease of life and people have not only re-registered, but started posting.

We have even started RPing again a little.

Ya see on Facebook I can't RP, or I can but I might lose friends... and people would look less comfortable sitting next to me at work, especially with the type of characters I play.

I also can't be quite as silly on Facebook, or as honest, or as creative.  I have to be Public Me, which is such a tiny part of me - and a part I am reduced to most of the time anyway, like at work and on public transport.  In my free time I want more.

The Northlands is more.

I almost gave up you know?  Running a discussion board.  We can't compete with social media... but today I think maybe we can.  Maybe by offering that little bit of an escape, that dice-roll chance to be someone else, possibly someone wicked - to post poems, stories and photographs and have people love them, to use the c-word about someone you work with and have people cheer, to share nothing but the song you are listening to and still be adored, to play games, whisper prayers, swap recipes and tell secrets, and best of all to have the chance to shapeshift  into the animal of your choosing (you know, the one that deep down most expresses who you really are) and leave the human race behind for an hour... maybe that is what will keep us going.

Maybe we can compete with Facebook in a small way, with people who matter.

People who secretly have tails, fur and feathers and who always keep a knife tucked in the folds of their cloak.

If you would like to join The Northlands you will find us here: http://www.thenorthlands.net/forum/

My daily bread

My desk. We are not usually this cramped but we are undergoing a refurbishment which means we are a bit squeezed together and there is very little natural light.

I spend so much of my free time online and now in this new job my work is pretty similar, my manager is in Hong Kong, a colleague in Japan most of the team-working and discussion done by phone, email or
skype. It is a big change after 20 years of very present and embodied teaching and managing.

The devices we use to access our world become increasingly invisible until we photograph them.

Trying to claw my way back

I look back at my blog with so much pleasure and regret having stopped posting.

I has such a consistent record of life Chiang Mai style, I have no idea why that wouldn't work just a well in the rich eventful Bangkok we now live and love in.

Originally technology let me down, my blog was synched automatically through my Sony Ericsson with a particular number and when I lost the number I lost the connection. Re-syncing required a better data package, which I now have, and have had since November 2011. I also have, courtesy of my new job, a very cool Samsung Galaxy SII.

No more excuses, let's get caught up with life in Bangkok in 2012.