Could it be that I might be getting the hang of this?

Alrighty, last I left it, I was still recovering from the world's worst first day and looking forward to the weekend. And what a weekend it was. I've never been a big blowing off steam kind of person. For me, the best way to heal from exhausting experiences isn't to go out and go crazy. It's to do as little as possible, preferably pool-side.

And go to the pool I did. There's a pretty nice hotel about two blocks from my apartment building and for 50 baht (a bit under 2 dollars) you can use their pool for as long as you want. Jenny - my fellow teacher who was placed at a different school and who had an equally traumatizing experience - and I had some serious lesson planning to do for the upcoming week. We decided the best way to do that was to take advantage of the good weather and two full days of nothing else to do (for the first time since landing in Bangkok) to figure out a game plan.

It turns out that Jenny and I, brilliant alone, are geniuses together. Not only did we make some general teaching breakthroughs (ex: "Maybe, if we use the books as a guideline, we might actually know what to teach!) but we also planned our lessons for our 1's and 2's. Jenny, having a normal teaching schedule, only teaches 1's and 2's, so she was done. I still had three more lessons to plan, but I was riding high from my success and I still had all of Sunday.

As luck, fate, and the grace of angels and the gods of teachers would have it, I also have fantastic resources, also known as the other English teachers who live on my floor. Katie (because there can never be one) and Brittany teach at Jenny's school and were there last semester. Katie teaches 5 and 6 and Brittany has 3 and 4. My reaction after learning this was, "Hey, someone who's done this and survived! Maybe they can teach me that trick." And, not only are they teaching me, they also provide me with tips, lesson plans, and reassurance that it does get better and also no, it's not just me, Thai students do some strange things.

All of which helps immensely. What also helps is that, apparently, once I got past the initial (and massive) lesson planning block, it's been getting easier. I use some past lesson plans, adapt a few, and plan the rest myself (or in the case of my 1's and 2's, with Jenny). It's a lot more manageable than it seemed at first. And, with my first full week finished, I can say that it was a success. At first, I considered the electricity that kept going out and classes that rarely started on time because the students are always late as snares, but I quickly learned that these things will be part of my routine. The only truly odd thing that happened at school last week was my meeting with the principal. My coordinator grabbed me as I was on my way to make copies and told me it was time to meet him. I was pretty taken aback, but since I was being dragged into his office (with a brief stop to take off my shoes) there wasn't really anything I could say about it. The whole meeting took five minutes and all five of those minutes were weird. The principal doesn't speak English and I haven't spontaneously learned Thai in the last three weeks, so he talked to my coordinator. And looked at my coordinator. And in no way acknowledged my presence, other than to point at me. I didn't contribute anything, just sat and enjoyed the air-conditioning. I found out later that the only thing he had to say to me was that I couldn't use my backpack anymore (my choice of bag since I've been carting a ton of books home to catch up on the years of training I didn't receive) because it made me look like a student. As a point of fact, the students don't have backpacks. They have leather satchels. And also, they are Thai. Neither of these things apply to me. So now I have a new bag.

And now, moving on to my new home. The first way I can think of to describe it, at least aesthetically, is as a slightly rundown beach town, with a lot more motorbikes and some farm animals thrown in. As I write, there is a rooster crowing somewhere outside my window. Not having spent much time in the vicinity of farm fowl, I'd always thought they cock-a-doodled at dawn. Myth disproved.

Suphanburi is fairly quiet, especially when compared to Bangkok, although I live in one of the noisier parts. I live right around the corner from a secondary school (where the other teachers are) and in the morning and afternoon the whole block is packed with students, street vendors, and traffic. Plus, the construction, which follows no schedule I've been able to pin down.

There isn't a whole lot to the town, as far as I can tell anyway, which is fine. I'm dealing with so many new things and Thailand, even small, quiet Suphanburi, is so different, that I don't need a lot of amazing sights and outings. Going to a food stall and figuring out how to order dinner is adventure enough for now. When I need more, I can take a quick trip to Bangkok, which I did this past weekend and will go into later.

Street vendors are a major part of the Thailand experience. Thailand, especially outside of Bangkok doesn't often do restaurants in the way we think of it. They have them, of course, but most people go to food stalls along the street, or the slightly bigger outdoor vendors, which sometimes have a place inside where you can sit as well. You usually eat there, at the tables they have next to the stall or on the curb if there isn't anywhere to sit. Thais don't do a lot of eating and running. The food is always cheap (on average, I spend around 2 dollars a day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner) and always delicious. I'm learning the art of adding the various spices (sugar, chili powder, fish oil, and vinegar) and it is an art. They don't all taste good on everything and the balance has to be just right.

And, speaking of food, I think I'll go get some dinner. I can now say five dished without stuttering and my tolerance and surprisingly, my appreciation, for spicy food gets higher every day. Later, more on my trip to Bangkok and the strange things that are rapidly becoming part of my normal day.