Bill Clinton, Excess Electricity, and Me

It was Friday night. The conference was beginning. I sat in an auditorium with 1,000 other students, all eagerly anticipating his arrival. We were all incredibly excited to be in the same room as one of the most powerful people in the world. When he entered, energy surged as we all rose in unison, applauding with all our youthful eagerness. The moment felt so surreal. Was I really there?

Two days later, the conference was coming to a close. We all gathered in a local middle school for a service project. For our specific project, my team formed a massive assembly line, with students standing on either side of a long table, placing items in care packages for US troops. Like the person on the other side of the table from me, I had the duty of stuffing in toothbrush caps. After a weekend full of receiving so much, it was nice to have an opportunity to give a little back.

Little did I know what opportunity I was about to have. As we were working, some of the conference leaders came to the student working opposite me, and asked him to step aside.

Lightning Strikes

In his place stepped President Bill Clinton. He stood directly across the table, ready to help me stuff toothbrush caps in care packages.

On Friday, when President Clinton had entered a room filled with a thousand other people, energy had surged through the room. Today, all that energy seemed to concentrate itself into a single lightning bolt, which proceeded to strike my brain, frying it instantaneously.

Despite being reduced to smoldering ash, my brain noticed that his handlers actually had no idea how to correctly stuff a toothbrush cap in a care package. I immediately leaped to the rescue, volunteering my expertise:

“President Clinton! President Clinton!” I screamed (Probably unnecessary to yell since he was standing 3 feet away from me)

“You put the toothbrush cap in THIS pocket!”

“Hey, you actually know how to do this,” President Clinton replied. (At which point the wind wisped away what remained of the ashes of my brain.)

The seconds passed like hours, and I felt an intense pressure to converse.

“PRESIDENT CLINTON! PRESIENT CLINTON! Uh.....so....I hear you’re pretty busy.” (He nodded his head, seeming to assure me that this was the dumbest thing I had ever said in my entire life.)

Refusing to let my brain rest in peace, my mouth continued:

“So....how much sleep do you get at night?”

He opened his mouth and began to reply. Had I come up with a question that actually merited a verbal answer? Yes I had. President Clinton aims for seven hours of sleep a night. Good to know.

Mercifully, the student to my left appeared to have a functioning cerebral cortex, and asked President Clinton about his vegan lifestyle. We conversed about this, and various strategies for public health over the next five minutes or so. It turns out, that since many people can’t metabolize dairy, one of the easiest ways to lose weight without cutting calories is to remove foods like dairy from your diet. Good to know.

Suddenly, he began to move away.

No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My organization! My purpose! My passion! HE NEEDED TO KNOW!!!!!!! If I could just give him my my handout, everything would be perfect.

“President Clinton! President Clinton” Now a whole five feet away from me, he mysteriously seemed unable to hear me)

No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I jumped back from the table. I had a mission: The card in my hand, simply needed to enter his. I doddled behind him, trying to catch his attention. Take the card! Just take the card!

To make a long story short, the Secret Service were completely unhelpful. (Evidently they were completely unmoved by the plight of urban refugees in Thailand)

The Aftermath

As I arrived back to my table, tail between my legs, my brain miraculously resurrected, and informed me that I had just made an utter fool of myself to one of the most powerful people in the world.

But I really didn't care. How many people can say they got to make utter fools of themselves in front of President Clinton? I’ll take being special when I can get it.

In the meantime, I’m counting on the encounter being not just foolishness, but fate. I plan to see him again, and if I do, it will be confirmation that despite the Secret Service's coldness, the hopes of urban refugees in Thailand are improving. In the meantime, I’m also going to try to install a downconducter in my brain.

To find out more about the conference I went to, click here: www.cgiu.org

To find out more about our work to help urban refugees, click here: Life Raft International Or better yet, just e-mail me at Chris@liferaftinternational.org

Curiosity made the cat a great lover

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-urban-scientist/201004/the-one-dating-trait-successful-future-mate

Once I waded though pop-psychology psychobabble, I decided he had a good point. Curiosity helps create good relationships. The bottom line is that the more you understand someone the better you will learn to interact with them.

And let's face it, we all appreciate people who show a sincere, accepting, interest in ourselves.

Another interesting thing he postulated was that Prejudice and judgment are the opposite of curiosity.

The biggest issues I had with his theory were his coupling of maturity and narcissism within his construct off curiosity. Maturity might be the opposite narcissism, but do we really become MORE curious as we become more mature? That might be a good goal, but I find that older people tend to have much LESS curiosity than younger people. Narcissists, on the other hand, clearly would not be curious people, but their lack of curiosity is only a sign of their ridiculous pride.....though finding people who are curious would be a good way to eliminate narcissists from your life.

The bigger issue is treatment of curiosity as a static character trait. When you first meet someone, you're bound to be more interested in them. However, it's very possible that people eventually lose this curiosity. Indeed excessive curiosity might even be reason to stray--you've gotten used to your partner and are curious about new people.

With that being said, reading the article, I realized that I really value curiosity when it comes to relationships and friendships. I'm not the kind of person to just tell you who I am, what I think. I'll wait for you to express interest and acceptance.

In addition his emphasis on being non-judgmental is also really enlightening, and a character trait to strive for. We're should be slow to judge--striving to completely understand before we make a judgment.

What are your thoughts?

Can curiosity be cultivated?

Do we become less curious as we become more mature?

How much do you value curiosity?

At what point does curiosity cross the line into creepiness, TMI, and intrusiveness?

Fight

I need inspiration, so I push play on my itunes media player and hear, “Don’t put your fists up, fill them,” from the Flobots’ song Fight With Tools. Unencumbered by social obligations, I jump out of my bed, beat my chest, and grunt maniacally at the mirror. I then interpretively dance to the song, holding out my hand, desperate for something I can fight with.


Yeah--that's why I want to be a lawyer.

Going Home

Monday was my last day of school. I wrote letters to the future teachers, packed my things, and left Wattana Wittaya Academy for the last time. I feel like I was successful. My goals coming over here were

1. To experience a foreign culture
2. Help some people out.
3. Become a part of a Christian community

I think the experiencing a foreign culture didn't take too much work.....but I adapted to a different living situation, lifestyle, and food, and though I'll be coming out a little thinner, I enjoyed it, and learned a lot about myself and other people. Different environments bring out different parts of who I am.

In terms of helping people out, coming over here, my general idea was that there would be more volunteer opportunities in a developing country like Thailand than in a wealthy country like America. This was definitely true. I was too busy to commit to a weekly project, but at various times I was able to hang out with orphans, teach English to refugees, build a house in the country, sing Christmas Carols in the gay red-light district, and play with kids in the slum. More recently, I've been helping a Sri Lankan refugee and his family who have started attending our church. If you'd like to read his story, and be a part of helping him survive next month, check out the letter I attached.

Perhaps the surprise in all of this was helping my kids out. I came over here with the mentality that I would be teaching rudimentary English to a bunch of spoiled rich kids. I didn't consider my job to be especially praiseworthy. Funny thing is, when you invest and devote yourself to something, even teaching rudimentary English, you start to really care, and really love.

210 Wattana 2nd graders now have a permanent residence in my soul, right next to the guys from TLC, and the Haitians in Ferrier. I'm struggling with how I can ensure my investment does not go to waste. If you want to check out pics of me and my kids, go to www.flickr.com/startstatick

Finally, I've become part of a community--New Song Bangkok. I am a part of this community like I have never been a part of any other. I spend 4-6 days a week with these people. Every single opportunity I've had in Thailand has come through New Song Bangkok. All the volunteer stuff, basketball on Saturdays, sailing in October, visiting the Bolevan plateau in Laos, visiting Chang Rai and Burma....going to Sri Lanka in April---I mean, the list just goes on. I am so grateful I have this comfortable place, only one BTS stop away from my apartment, where I can grow with people.

But more pertinent news: I'm coming home! Today, I booked my ticket. I WILL BE ARRIVING IN DALLAS ON SUNDAY, APRIL 18, AT 8:45 PM. I'm very excited. I'm planning to be in Waco Mon. through Sunday--go to Church Under the Bridge on Sunday, then arrive back in Virginia later on Sunday the 25th, or on Monday the 26th. If you want to hang out let me know--I might try to make a facebook group or something to sort of coordinate stuff.

Snippets from Wattana

So today was my last day of after-school club, so I brought my camera and took some pics, and even a couple of videos. Here's a small sampling my work.




This is more or less the version of Jack and Jill I taught my 2nd graders. As you can see, the camera definitely effected their performance. Usually they all end up in a heap on the ground. They also tend to get the "tumbling after," part.

My routine

(I sent this out as an e-mail to friends back home, and figured I'd share it here as well.)

I've now been in Bangkok eight months. Thinking back, it's crazy to think how much of an adustment I've had to make. Living here in the beginning just shocked every part of me. I'm a creature of habit, and this threw me off. I had to figure out where to buy clothes that fit me, where I could get food, what I could eat for breakfast, how to wash clothes, how to work the shower, who my friends were going to be, how I was going to work out, how I could afford life, how to survive the 7:45-4:30, how to handle the heat, the smells, the beggars, the lady-boys, the prostitutes, the communication.......but I have more or less figured it out now.


My Routine



Getting Up

As I've figured it out, I've settled into an approximate routine: I wake up in my spacious walk-in closet at 6:20 every morning. Because I went to sleep too late the night before, I immediately hate life, and hit the snooze button. After ten minutes of wishing I could fall back asleep, I turn my alarm clock off, and lay in bed for five more minutes, mustering the strength to get out of bed. I then drink a yukha (yogurt drink that somebody told me helps me stomach. Anything that is ever rumored to help my stomach, I drink.), take a shower, get dressed, and jump from my apartment balcony on to the Bangkok Sky Train. (Ok, it's not REALLY that close, but it's close) I get off the sky train, and if I'm on time, hop on the little open air school bus that takes me to school. If I'm running a bit late, I hail a moto cy driver, and have him zip me to school for 33 cents.


At School
Once at school, I immediately go to the school store and get a bag of freshly picked and cut papaya for 75 cents. I then walk towards the office. On my way to the office, the national anthem is played. I due my duty, withstand the heat, and stand, frozen, for the duration of what feels like the longest song in the world. I arrive at the office, and change into my mismatched work shoes (I came to Bangkok with an already ratty pair of shoes. Being in them all day at work, and jumping around in class basically destroyed them, so I caved and bought a new pair. Two weeks after buying the beautiful new pair of shoes, I left one in the phone booth. This meant I had to revert back to my old pair of shoes. After a week or two, the right footed shoe just completely broke down. Fortunately, I still have my RIGHT footed NEW shoe. I don't want to spend 30 dollars on a new pairs of of shoes, so I just wear the two mismatched ones.[at least their both black] So far, the only person to say anything is my boss, and he thinks it's funny)

With my shoes on, I am officially dressed for class, so I go over the lesson I am going to teach next, prepare worksheets and games for class, and leave for my class a little later than I should. As I get to the hallway in my school where the 6 classrooms that house 250 2nd grade girls, I am greeted by waves, and pleas for "hi fies." Upon prompting, they correct their pronounciation to high fiVVVVe, and I oblige them by making them jump for a high fiVVVVVe. (They get an incredible sense of accomplishment of having to jump for a high five. Interestingly, this is not limited to second graders. I've done it with adults, and it's more rewarding for them too.)


Class
Upon my arrival at class, I forget to sign the sign in sheet. My arrival does nothing to calm the bedlam in class, only leading to more students asking for hi fies, and some especially eager student wondering if we're going to play "freeze." My co-teacher arrives, and yells at the kids in Thai....I never have any clue what she is saying, but they all get a look of shame, and quiet down and come to order. I assume she is chastising them for acting like seven year olds.

She then takes half of the class upstairs. The remaining students then organize themselves into teams (each row is a team) The first team to come to order gets to pick their name first, and gets a head start on points. (Points are the lifeblood of class. Kids will do anything to earn them, and cringe at the mere idea of them being taken away) I then start off the class with a game of freeze, where I command the students to do various things in english brush teeth, eat noodles, watch TV, dance, sing, and then will suddenly say freeze. I then walk around class imitating and making fun of the positions they are stuck in. "I said to SWIM! You have your mouth open! Don't swim with your mouth open! If you swim with your mouth open, you will swallow water!" (I imitate choking and drowning)" We then start the actual phonics portion of the class, where I try to trick the kids into learning, by allowing them to earn points for it.

After managing to hold their attention for up to 6 minutes, I hand out a worksheet, with instructions to a draw a specific picture on the back after they are finished. During this time, the gifted, achievement oriented students finish early, and come over to my desk to do word box (I have a system for more advanced students where they take home 10 words at a time, master them, then come back and say them to me. After they have mastered the phonics 180 difficult English words, I give them three small stickers.) All the hyper ones finish early, and goof off. Everybody else just wizzes through the worksheet, and try to spend an obscene amount of time drawing the perfect picture.

If we still have time after giving them 20 minutes to draw a picture, we'll do what the most vocal 15% of the class wants to do: play a game!!!!! Run and hit!!???? At the end of class, the team with the most points gets my signature in their "Achievement chart." After I sign their chart 18 times, they get three small stickers.


After School Club
After teaching three four classes like this, all remarkably similar, I finish off my day by doing an after school english club with my second graders. I start off this club by asking them how they are. For the next ten minutese, I hear a variety of responses............ "I'm hungry!" What do you want to eat? "Pizza and teacher Chris!"......................."I'm hungry!" What do you want to eat? "Ice cream, 100 scoops!"..........."I'm sad." Why? "May hit me!" (imitates action, everbody laughs)........................."I'm sad." Why? "My grandmother died." (me...*blinking*...."sorry")............................."I'm happy" Why? "I love conversation." ................"I'm happy." Why? "I see Teacher Chris is Monkey!"

We then do the most dramatic reenactment of Jack and Jill ever, and play their favorite game ever: Four corners. Each corner of the room is asigned a word. I close my eyes, and tell them to do an action...run, skip, shop, shave. When I say stop, they must stay in their corner. I say one name of one corner. Whoever is in that corner is out. This continues until their are only a few left in the game.

We play random games for the rest of class. The Thai teacher in class ends it five minutes early. 75% of the class grabs their backpacks and screams out the door. The rest stick around to plead their case for stickers. After giving the worthy ones stickers, I head back to my office, put my tennis shoes back on, and head to the outdoor cafeteria for some Thai food. After seeing that the food is not edible for a person with functional taste buds, I head to the gym, and stop by Subway for some food.


The Gym
Upon entering the gay club masquerading as a gym, I am bombarded by techno mixes of the worst songs known to man. The gym teams with people. There are gym-certified trainiers in red polos and popped collars hovering, hoping somebody will hire them to help them magically become fit. The music is not the only thing I am bombarded with. In the locker, which is always stuffed with people, I learn that Thais definitely prefer skimpy briefs to boxers. Outside the locker, I face the shortest man-shorts I have ever seen, people working out in jeans and dress shoes, and a rash of "men" with FABulously styled hair.

I work out with my buddy, buy a fresh young coconut for 60 cents, catch a hot, crowded bus back home. I spend between 3 and 4 dollars on a delicious dinner with friends, poke around on the internet for too long, and go to bed at least one hour later than I should.

And that, only slightly embellished and generalized for the sake of your amusement, is my average day in Bangkok. I spend my average weekends playing basketball, going to church, and mybe doing a bit of volunteering. (This past weekend I spent some time with a refugee from Sri Lanka)

New Year Part 2

Continuing things I learned:

4. I can survive:
a. a room the size of a walk in closet
b. A shower/bathroom, the size of a linen closet, with no tub, curtain, or medicine cabinet
c. . A shower/bathroom, the size of a linen closet, with no shower, toilet, or medicine cabinet
d. Without live sports
e. An ulcer
f. Eating a grasshopper, and whole red hot chili pepper, soon after discovering I had an ulcer.
g. Applying to 13 law schools while in Thailand
h. Without a kitchen
i. Street food
j. Motorcycle taxis
k. Cambodia
l. Burma
m. Isaan
n. The revenge of the spicy Thai food
o. Caroling through a red light district.
p. Jet lag to end all jet lag
q. Working the 7:45 to 4:30.
r. Potentially malaria and dengue fever carrying mosquitos
s. living in a country where I am wholly ignorant of the language.
t. monkeys
u. without protein powder
v. a buzz haircut
w. without four eggs before I go to bed
x. Having to be an entertainer
y. Without decent health insurance.
z. Teaching crazy second graders