Tha Wang Pha Sports Day (early December)

Sports Day at Thawangpha was drastically different from any other celebration I have ever seen or attended. For 2 weeks, the school had half days academically so that everyone could practice sports. By sports, I mean spear throwing, the long jump, running, and high jump etc…  The entire school was divided up into 6 different colors. Each color created a massive billboard that framed 50 or 60 cheerleaders…cheering enthusiastically from the misty dawn into the deep afternoon. In each given event, 1 representative from each color would compete. As the day unfolded and the celebration commenced I felt wrapped up in a hallucinogenic Harry Potter Dr. Suess landscape only though stranger, and with much less organization.

re-defining fashion 1 purple head bow-tie at a time

Before people started shooting guns off however there was a morning parade that twisted and winded from the fresh market (located a few Km away from school) to the school grounds. The parade was divided into sections. First the blue team went and then the yellow etc… each team dressed according to their color while wielding odd instruments to show excitement yet send a message. For example, the blue team walked around totting such signs explicating warning of the dangers of doing drugs as well as unprotected sex. The yellow team created a mini moving boxing ring made of string and blown up condoms. In the middle of this mobile ring 7 or 8 students rockin’ dark shades and pink tutus danced in a whimsical iridescent display to the hum of some Martian Korean 70’s hip hop dangling out of a small speaker carried by one of the dancers. This was my favorite.

Gangsters

At one point I even joined in the blown up condom matrix dance part…I mean I had to, it was too good - these kids were just in such a weird authentically wild corner of the universe absolutely getting down to their own unique celebratory creation from start to finish...what gems! The procession of students interlaced with the marching band and the military section then snaked though some back roads and eventually weaved and winded to school around 8 in the am… where everyone gathered around the soccer field to engage in a day of goofy fun. If the “Jungle Book” ever hosted the Olympics it would be exactly what the good folks here at Tha Wang Pha Pittyakhom School put together today.

get yo freak on

Events seemed to happen almost randomly, with teachers and students milling about, wearing brightly colored cowboy hats and shooting guns off at random intervals to signal the start to a race. The Director and his top shelf staff watched on briefly under a shaded tent while I mostly just wandered around in a semi permanent state of awe, confusion, and interest. I would be attending the “teacher’s race” later in afternoon however I had the whole morning and most of the afternoon to just drift around trying to dig into the culture of the event while simultaneously trying to avoid melting under the heavy sun. After a substantial lunch of pad thai paired with green curry over rice it was time to run. The last event of the day was to feature an all teacher relay race with six teachers or so representing their respective colors. I along with 5 other amiable fellows and ladies were yellow, which was clearly illustrated by our yellow sport jerseys we had been adorning for most of the day.

team yellow rep-re-sent

I ran my heart out, but the yellow team ended up finishing 4^th out of 6 teams. After a brief award ceremony followed by some words by the Director the wonderfully twisted hilarious medieval “Tha Wang Pha sports day” had come to a successful close. Right before we called it quits however the Director slipped a quick invite to James and I with regards to spending the night at his resort. With the prospect of delicious somtom (spicy papaya salad), deep glasses of whiskey and a place to sleep looking us at in the face it was not a hard decision to make. So off we went to spend the night at the director’s resort (located about 30 minutes from school) where we would feast on barbecued veggies, and a nice vegetable soup with plenty of whiskey laden exchanges of broken Thai with broken English. The Directors uncle, niece, daughters, and wife were all in attendance and after a couple of hours gathered around the table laughing and eating it was time to rest…James and I awoke early the next morning to the sound of the Director gruffly calling out our names and before long we were riding in the back of his shiny silver truck on our way to start another Tuesday at the one and only Tha Wang Pha Pittyakhom school…

party for the Director, waterfalls

The 9^th of December proved to be one hell of a night. After getting out of school a bit early James and I discovered haphardzadly and seemingly by pure chance that the school was throwing a good bye party for the director. The director is the basically the king of our school and has been happily ruling for over 15 years in his frigidly air conditioned office adorned with a T.V. monitor running six different cameras 24/7 situated next to his 3 cell phones and small purple fake flower arrangements. The director has proved to be a very kind and gracious king as he invited James and myself over to his resort on many occasions to meet his family, eat great food, sing karaoke and most importantly above all other things, drink lot’s of whiskey. So the director is leaving our school to transfer to another, bigger school located a bit south and the 9^th of December was the night to throw down “Thai Stai”

Traditional Thai dancing

I strolled up to the entrance of the school gymnasium around 6 with a New England calendar wrapped under my arm. For parties involving the director, it’s expected to bring a gift for him. James and I realized this about 20 minutes before the party started so I quickly decided my calendar (for 2012) from home would be a fitting and practical gift. The custom involves presenting your gift to the director while a picture is taken in a swift and military esque-fashion.  I could tell that the director has danced this danced thousands of times before…the robotic smile, an arm around the shoulder, the master of the conservative yet celebratory picture…a seasoned vet in front of the camera. The gift then gets placed on one of several tables in a fast and furious pace that is likened to a enclave of elves compiling presents in a pyramid like fashion in a wooded village while the king elf looks on and smiles a polite political smile to appease the many guests gathered from different realms he has invited for this festive and celebratory occasion.

James, the Director, and I

For some reason bouquets of fake flowers coupled with large wooden framed pictures of flowers are virtually the only things people give for gifts (to my knowledge). Within the first half hour the director easily amassed hundreds of fake flowers and maybe thirty or forty pictures of flowers. I don’t really understand this. I was going to say they look pretty, but I think low maintenance is a better guess.

Get Down!

The party featured thirty or so tables each seating roughly six or seven people under the sprawling thirty foot white ceilings and spread out over the gym floor all facing a central stage that would host a lovely and elegant Thai dancing performance followed with singing and dancing followed by heavily infused whiskey renditions of the former. James and I sat with our coordinator Kru Lin and some other friends as we were slowly served dish after dish of fresh ginger fish, egg fried rice, sweet and sour fish soup, and many other dishes I can’t quite remember. Whiskey was also complimentary, which may explain my forgetfulness here.

           

I had a blast dancing with the mathematics teacher who owns a coffee shop down the road as well as just seeing the jarringly happy look on everyone’s face that a little bit of whiskey and music can so easily create. Watching my fellow Thai teachers dance was interesting too as some did a kind of reverse corkscrew while boasting a maniacal smile with a jiving of the arms side to side a rough, enthusiastic air. This occasion was also a great time for me to practice my Thai as I engaged many of the different guests at the event in conversations focusing around the single expression of “I go.”

Assistant Director, Myself, Kru Newt, james, Kru Noy, 2 guests

At every Thai party I have been to so far (that would be two) singing is expected. Both women and men (but especially the men, usually with a belly full of whiskey) love to grab the mike as the night winds on and serenade his/her fellow friends to traditional yet hip hoppy songs. Joining in with this local custom James and decided to give the director a special surprise performance and after several hours of romping around the gym eating, drinking, and trying to speak Thai James and I got on stage. I brought my mini guitar (thank you Wendel) and started off by playing “Santeria” by Sublime while James followed with “Blowin in the Wind” by Mr. Dylan. The crowd seemed to enjoy the brief but enthusiastic performance however the positive response may have been mainly due to the fact that at the time of our rendition nobody in the audience could speak or understand English.

Peace!

I trudged home (James and I live on school grounds – easy commute) around 1 in the morning or so with a whiskey leaden skull after an evening of great food and great drink amidst some of the most friendly and kind people around. I didn’t get to know the director (or his name) too well however I wish him and his family the best...”he was a good man, and thorough.”

I awoke the Saturday morning of December 10th after the big party feeling a bit too good. I was expecting a foggy hangover cloud to derange my limbs and mind for the morning however I felt capable of moving around and thinking without difficulty. I took that goodness with me via motorbike to the “Nanthanburi National Park” located 30 KM south west of me. After a quick 1-hour ride James and I entered the parks grounds, parked our bikes, and started exploring. James and I started the day hiking down a steep trail for several Km until we stumbled across a shimmering waterfall. After an hour basking beneath it’s soothing presence we thought hiking up the side of the waterfall would be good. There wasn’t much of a path and it was steep going but we eventually clawed and kitched our way up the steep side slope of damp vine entangled earth to the top of the waterfall. We weren’t rewarded with anything but a viney mesh of sinewy vine rope so with nowhere to go we immediately turned around and went down the way we had just come. Getting down was tricky as the loose earth disintegrated beneath our feet and the boulders and vines that populated the nearly thirty feet down didn’t look to inviting. All of a sudden I slipped at the top, caught myself, and watched my black water bottle hurtle out of my backpack down the abyss to the path we started on. As I have not seen a decent water bottle in Thailand yet, I was eager to find mine amongst the green and brown gnarled earth. Up and down I went, dipping into my animalistic 1 track mind vibe and clearly focusing on the task at hand. After about 20 minutes I almost fell off the small cliff and it was that close call combined with the realization that I was literally covered in dirt and blood from crawling and digging like an animal for this water bottle that I chose to just let it be. “It’s just a water bottle man.” So back up the path I walked feeling a little bummed about losing my black klean kanteen with the black Stone brewing gargoyle sticker that always reminded me the fresh, hoppy, and delicious beer so easily accessible in the states. In Thailand you can get two or maybe three types of mediocre domestic brews. They aren’t too bad, but I’m already looking forward to a nice I.P.A upon my arrival home. As we scaled back to the top of the park we gazed upon fifteen to twenty canvas stretched tents bracing the perimeter as families milled about setting up fires and snapping photos of the big old sun dipping behind the distant lush hills now softly aglow with the suns gentle orange and dark red velvety bands.

As James went off to shoot some photos I gently walked over across the prickly stands of grass to the fire-pit where a few people were poking at a small cluster of embers trying to instigate a fire. Within 10 seconds of me saying “hello” in Thai a gentleman in his young 30’s asks me in a heavy way if I would have dinner with him and his family. He asked me in such a way as one normally asks for a sincere favor with genuine and enthusiastic warmth. I was humbled by the question and as his brother brought over some beer to share with us the kindness of the Thai people simply made me smile and forget any previous so called “troubles.” This consistent and genuine kindness has made my stay quite inspiring. After a delicious meal of sticky rice, green curry, and BBQ prawns with my friend Don and his eight wonderfully kind family members James and I headed back down the windy earthen path to retrieve our motorbikes and begin the short trip back home beneath a full tented starscape highlighted by a bright full moon gleaming white strands down upon the windy road; dark tree limbs tracing by…

Thawangpha Bike Race

Welcome to another exciting annual Thawangpha throwback bike race! Every year Thawangpha throws down for a village bike race where all villagers are invited to dig their bikes out of their sun-drenched corners of space and take part in a nice bicycle stroll through the windy twisty back-roads of Thawangpha. This year I had the pleasure of joining as a fellow teacher was kind enough to lend me her bike which enjoyed a soft blue paint job streaked with yellow and orange stripes that ran down the center frame while two easy rider handle bars offered themselves up for smooth but more importantly stylish navigation. An aluminum wire carrying basket was positioned in front of the handle bars to give the rider ample room to store various accessories and although only having 3 gears the small, wind up light situated on the outside of the front tire more than made up for this by offering the rider light in the darkness.

 I got up on a Saturday at about 6:00 AM and groggily peddled down my street towards the event amidst mountains of fog. You really couldn’t see much. Thick as good peanut butter. I was just about to cross a main intersection preceding my destination when I slammed straight into an older lady on a motorbike dead stopped at the same intersection I was trying to cross. I’m not really sure what happened but I hit her pretty hard and almost did a superman through my handle bars while the poor old lady gave out a shocked gasp followed by some angry Thai and turned back at me with a twisted face as if I were a dark grey terrifyingly ghoul out of a dark and morbid Goya painting. That’s about how I felt. After several apologizes I sledged across the street in ashamed bewilderment, determined not to run into any older ladies for the remainder of the crazy fog lacquered day.

I jumped right in and started peddling while saying hello to everyone. In general, living in Thawangpha has feel of the 1960’s or 1970’s (if I were to imagine). People take things very easy, don’t get too involved in technology, have a strong connection with the land, and ware very interesting retro soccer attire. People are also extremely social, communal, and rely on face-to-face encounters rather than face to book encounters. Thawangpha is bringing face-to-face time back in a huge way.  The music is the only thing here that doesn’t really match as in general it sounds like something younger middle school girls would listen to but much, much more dramatic. Life is simple, slow, and very sweet. Delicious fruit is all around.

Back to the 411 on bike race though – it was all 80’s. People had the throwback flash bikes and wore the flash bright pink sports jackets with orange pants and flat brimmed retro hats and just cruised through the fog ash with bangin’ style and huge smiles. I think some people might have worn capes. Everything was super laid back while the race wound through tiny back alleys and side streets of amidst walls and mountains of fog. Many villagers stood outside of their abodes to watch the riders pass by. Instead of race I think the word “meandering” works better for this certain event.  The race was 21 km and as the bike I had was made for a Thai human my knees took quite the beating and I could hardly walk after. Overall, the bike race absolutely wailed: it gave me a great chance to roll through the fog laden, quite, peaceful, and close-nit community of my village amongst friends.