It's a dog's life 1

Previously, I wrote about the soi dogs that hang around our apartment grounds

here

The other day, there appeared a new addition. A tiny dark brown puppy came snuffling up to us, sniffing my toes, following us around and trying to bite my trouser legs. She was adorable, such a sweetie. From what we could gather by our limited Thai, she had been found near the canal swimming (or drowning?) and was now being somehow looked after by the security guards.

We saw her the next evening too and thought that on the weekend we'd take her to the vet. Fatt was aching to give her the name 'Biscuit'. The following day, Fatt reported that Biscuit had lollopped after him as he left for work, following him out of the apartment block. I saw her in the evening. She was sitting next to a pile of goo. I don't know anything about dogs, but it looked like she'd been sick. Oh well, I thought, take her to the vet tomorrow.

The next day, we phoned up the vet who told us what the procedure was for vaccinating new puppies. We thought she might be too young but we went downstairs to see her anyhow. 'Tua lek yuu thi nai?' (Where is the Little One?) we asked the guard. Ohh, he answered with an embarrassed laugh, 'Tua lek dear'. He was speaking English. 'Tua Lek's dead' is what he meant. And he pointed to his tummy.

It was a shock. And a frustrating shock at that. The horrendous timing, the fact that I'd seen she was sick already and had done nothing, the fact that I'd seen her put a fat dirty filthy sponge in her curious puppy mouth and had done jackshit. That I hadn't taken her to the vet by myself earlier...

I ruminated on this as we ate our lunch of beef and fish. And I had to think, well we kill animals every day for food don't we? Was I just being sentimental because the poor puppy had been so cute? I'm sure that's it. But at the same time, I am becoming more and more affectionate towards dogs and feel for the sorry stray soi dogs wandering around with their mangy sores, bitten ears and lost legs. For Biscuit, we'd been looking forward to somehow helping her in her rescue. Fatt says maybe she was simply too young to have lost her mother. Poor Biscuit. RIP.

The CELTA

The reason why I've been so behind on the blogging front was because I took the CELTA in November. Not that I am dying to be an English teacher, but I thought, why not? it's relatively cheap to do in Bangers and could be useful if we travel around. So, as a fellow student put it, I was doing it 'for fun'.

Well, 'fun' isn't a word I'd associate with the CELTA course. It was 4 weeks of learning, preparing, photocopying and being scrutinised beadily by the tutors. My fellow students were from a variety of backgrounds: Brits, Ozzies, Yanks and others. Some had teaching experience, others didn't. Some were off to Korea or Laos or the Middle East to teach after and very few stayed on in Thailand. They were all very nice.

We were split up into teaching groups of 5 or 6. I was really lucky with my group as it had a good balance of getting a grip on reality, getting what you could out of the course and ambition. By 'getting a grip' I mean that for 4 weeks, it is very easy to become completely consumed by the course: living, breathing, eating, dreaming it... I went from 0-90 in 1 day and by day 2, I felt I'd been on the course 50 days, and by day 3, I was losing sleep. Luckily Fatt was able to put things into perspective and I decided that it just wasn't worth sleepless nights. Some of my fellow students though shed tears over the course and worked manically. Ultimately, they probably got the best grades. But I'll be damned if I cry during a course!

The set-up is basically classes on a variety of different teaching aspects during the morning, and actually teaching a lesson in the afternoon. You start off with very short lessons and gradually work your way up to an hour's worth. Needless to say, if you are scheduled to teach in the afternoon, your mind can drift during the morning. Also antiquated crap printers and photocopiers contribute immensely to the pressure.

The guinea pig students were a joy though. Admittedly, there were a lot of Thai girls - university students - who were very sweet and earnest. There were also some refugees from Nepal, Cambodia and Burma. And monks from Vietnam. They were a great bunch of students. They pay a nominal amount to be taught by us inept student teachers. On the other hand, they will usually get native speakers and classes utilising interesting and differing teaching methods as opposed to a teacher droning on in front of the class.

The tutors were very good. Well, two of them were marvellous. The other was a grumpy sod who seemed very frustrated with the job. He told us that if we had to give a class on 'romance and love' in Bangkok, we should aim the vocab to things that would be useful to bargirls / farang-husband seekers. Hmmm, and what about the other half of the class of Japanese housewives and Nepalese refugees?

All in all, an interesting course which definitely helps to give the basics of teaching. I've just completed my second lesson of volunteer teaching today, so I can definitely say the course was a big help.

Songkhla

A couple of months ago, Fatt's dad came to Thailand. Fatt's dad had only got his passport at the age of 50 and the extent of his out-of-England experience was a very recent trip to France. Thus it was with some trepidation that we welcomed him to Thailand. Would he be able to take the heat (true Yorkshireman here!)? Would he be able to take the food (a chicken korma is too spicy!)? What would he think of all the hustle and bustle of Bangkok?

As it happens, Fatt's dad took to Thailand like a duck to water. When Fatt takes guests around, he'll take them to places he thinks are interesting, i.e. places that Fatt has personally never been before! Or, places that are way off the tourist trail. Usually a visit to a bustling market and a canal-taxi ride is in store. In terms of food, Fatt was keen to give his dad a wide variety - not just Thai, but also seafood and Ethiopian. Fatt's dad hoovered it all up, even the spicy stuff. He drank either coffee or Chang beer throughout the day and didn't seem to suffer any undue effects from the heavy intake of caffiene and alcohol.

We went down to see Fatt's brother in Songkhla. We were a little worried because of all the unrest and bombings in the South, but Fatt's brother said it wasn't such a problem there and they hadn't seen any trouble. Songkhla has a beach but you don't really see much sunbathing or swimming going on. There are fishing villages around, and some great seafood. It's a small town with very straight roads. It seemed very relaxing.



We drove around the town to Koh Yai (more incredible seafood), past alternating Muslim villages (sudden presence of goats) and Thai villages (yellow Buddhist flags fluttering). We stopped off at a temple and there was some kind of festival happening and people were getting quite tipsy.


Other temples hosted the obligatory wat dog.


Other's preferred playing host to mischievous troops of monkeys:


Fatt's dad stayed on in Songkhla and later told us how he be-friended the locals, just striking up 'conversation' with anybody, thereby managing to get taken on a fishing trip, and being zoomed up and down road on the back of a bike at the local motorcycle meet.

He's already planning his next trip here!