All Sport All The Time

All Sport All The Time

Sport Week at a Rural Thai School

During Peace Corps pre-service training, we had frequent guest presentations by second-year volunteers, who tried to give us a heads-up on what to expect at our sites. They told us about events that would disrupt our teaching schedules, such as Sport Week, during which any semblance of academic learning goes out the window. It’s one of the many aspects of Thai school culture that you can’t fully appreciate until you’ve been there.

Our school’s fall/winter term began on October 28, a week before the start of Sport Week. However, very few classes met that first week because students were either practicing their sport to be ready for competitions or helping teachers in charge of setups, schedules, and logistics. Our school hosted the event, which involved 12 schools in our area and made a lot of extra work, especially for teachers who coach a sport or had other official roles.  They were grateful for any help students could give them. During Sport Week, teachers were expected to clock in and out every day, the same as when classes are in session, except that Sport Week also included Saturday and Sunday.

Each morning, food vendors began setting up before 7am, knowing that students are ready to eat chicken on a stick, sausages, fried bananas, and any number of other snacks at all times.  The vendor pictured below is one of several with permission to sell on the school grounds. There were four or five others just outside the school gates as well.

Students from other schools would begin arriving shortly before 9am, usually in overfilled pickup 

 trucks or buses like these:

There were Sport Week competitions in seven sports:  football, futsal, petanque (sometimes called boules), sepak ta kraw (sometimes called kick volleyball), table tennis, volleyball, and, to my surprise, beach volleyball – although there’s no beach anywhere near this village. Sand was provided to simulate beach conditions. The schedule was dominated by football – I follow local and European usage in calling it football instead of soccer, since American football isn’t well known here.  Some of the “smaller” sports – table tennis and petanque – had competitions for only three or four days, but football was scheduled over all seven days.

Before coming to Thailand, I wasn’t familiar with sepak ta kraw or petanque.  It was fascinating to learn that petanque was introduced to Thailand in the 1970s by the mother of Thailand’s King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX), Queen Mother Srinagarindra (1900-1995). She had learned the game in Switzerland, where she lived from 1933 (after her husband’s death) until 1964, when she returned to Thailand to pursue social and environmental projects to improve the lives of people in the poorest parts of the country.  In case petanque is new to you too:  it is played with wooden or metal balls that are thrown to land as near as possible to a small target ball.  Points are awarded based on how close the ball is to the target ball. As you can see in the video, our students throw overhand in this game. Unfortunately, my video doesn’t show you where the ball landed, sorry!

Ta kraw is my new favorite sport to watch. It is a game of Southeast Asia, played in most if not all countries in this part of the world. Thailand and Malaysia are said to be the  “powerhouse countries” for this sport. In case it is new to you too: ta kraw is played with a lightweight rattan ball and a net similar to a volleyball net. There are three players per side. The only time you can touch the ball with your hands is when serving; otherwise you can hit it with your head, shoulder, knee, or foot. The object, of course, is to get it over the net in such a manner as to be difficult or impossible for the other team to return. The best players are able to stop the ball with their head and aim it either to another player or in a direction they can run to and kick it over the net and down (like spiking the ball in volleyball). I hope this brief video gives a clearer idea than my tortured description:

During Sport Week, I took a zillion pictures and videos, most of which were quickly trashed for poor quality or ho-hum content. For a few teachers, like me, whose major role was that of spectator, Sport Week got a bit tedious after several days, but the unwavering enthusiasm and support from coaches, referees, announcers and parents were spectacular. Even students whose teams didn’t win must have felt affirmed by so much positive energy. 

When classes resumed on November 12, what did we talk about?  -- Sport Week, of course, a great topic for English classes and a good conversation starter in any language.  My co-teacher and I used some of my pictures and videos to focus students’ attention on specific games. The 4^th and 5^th graders loved the videos, calling out names of players from our school or naming other schools whose uniforms they recognized. Their engagement with the topic reaffirmed our decision last term to throw out our textbooks, which are full of material about places our students have no concept of (such as shopping malls). Instead, we now develop our own materials based on what is all around us at school and in the village.

Sport Week concluded with speeches, ceremonies, announcements of awards, marching bands, and a parade – but I’ll spare you my video of the parade, at least for now. Maybe on a slow news day . . . .

Say Wat?

Say Wat?

Thai Village Temples

The word wat, often translated as “temple,”  actually refers to the whole property – the grounds on which the temple, monks’ residence, and any buildings for meetings or classes are located.

During my first night with my host family in Central Thailand months ago, I wasn’t surprised to be awakened by roosters crowing before dawn – it’s a rural village after all – but I was quite surprised to hear announcements over a loudspeaker from the wat across the street, starting at about 5:30am every day. When I asked my host family what the announcements were about, they said “news.”  -- Hmmm, I thought, why would that be necessary? Everyone here seems to have TV.  This example shows how you can misinterpret even the most everyday word – such as “news” – if you don’t know the cultural context.  Eventually I understood that these early-morning announcements are news about events in the village, mostly at the wat – local news that isn’t reported on TV.   

The same thing happens where I live now, in Northeastern Thailand, except that this village has two temples. 

Wat Sirinamaram

Wat Buraparom

Wat Sirinamaram is the larger of the two, with several buildings and spacious, tree-shaded grounds for festivals and other events. Both have resident monks who make their rounds of the village collecting alms early each morning. As you can see, the temples are quite modest, especially when compared to the many historic temples, often lavishly ornate, for which Thailand is famous. 

However, these smaller temples probably serve a majority of the population – more than half of Thailand’s 66.79 million people live in rural areas.  The country is about 95% Buddhist.  Many people go to temple twice a week, and oftener when there is a Buddhist holiday or festival.

The first event that I attended at a wat was a monk ordination. Becoming a monk is an important way for a man to make merit for his parents. And, before you ask, no, women don’t (yet) have equal opportunity in this realm:

Under the current Thai constitution the ordination of women is permitted. But the Thai Sangha Council, a government-linked religious advisory group, maintains that only men can enter the monkhood, citing the 1928 Sangha Act that forbids Thai monks from ordaining women.

http://www.ipsnews.net/2013/11/thai-women-don-monks-robes/

Making merit, as I understand it, is somewhat akin to doing good deeds – for example, to freely give something (food, money, time as a volunteer), light candles and offer prayers, or help in other ways. To ensure a peaceful life in the hereafter, such acts must be done “from the heart,” not with selfish motives. Thus, merit-making also requires one to follow the precepts of Buddhism and develop the mind through prayer and meditation.

Usually, the occasion of becoming a monk calls for a big party the evening before the ordination. I attended such a party in January with my host family and several members of my Peace Corps group. It reminded me of a wedding dinner – the young man, dressed all in white, stood with his parents to greet the guests as they arrived. Later the three of them walked around to each of the more than 100 tables to thank all the guests for coming. There was music and dancing after the meal. At one point, the young man mounted the stage with his father and many people came up to put garlands around his neck.

Giving a garland to the monk

Dancing with the monk's mother

The next morning, a large crowd of villagers came to the wat to accompany the young man as he was carried around the temple by his friends. In the photo below, he is throwing foil-wrapped one-baht coins to the crowd. Notice the huge smile on his father’s face – it is clearly a joyful occasion for the family.

Bearing gifts

After being carried around the temple three times, the new monk was taken into the temple, along with the gifts that we had all brought, and most of the guests went home. I had assumed that the ordination represented a momentous decision by the young man to dedicate his life to the monkhood but learned that many if not most Thai men become monks for a short time  – as little as a week, two weeks or a month. It is a way to demonstrate their commitment to Buddhist values, make merit for their families, and prepare to be a good husband – some families won’t allow their daughters to marry a man who hasn’t been a monk.

Up to now, I’ve visited relatively few temples in Thailand and have only a limited understanding of the symbols, architecture, and statuary at different places and from different historical periods.  I hope to write about some of the more intriguing symbols and traditions as I learn more. To close with a glimpse of one of the famous temples alluded to at the beginning of this post, here is a picture of me with the Naga (mythical serpent) at the foot of the stairs (300+ steps!) of Wat Phra Tat Doi Suthep near Chiang Mai.

House Critters

House Critters

It’s time to introduce the critters that show up in my house in Thailand.  I’ll start with the regulars – the geckos – then move on to some less frequent visitors, with a short excursion into the culinary realm.  Read on!

These little lizards, called jing-jok in Thai, are in everyone’s house here, as far as I can tell.  They are small – some only a little more than an inch long from nose to tip of tail, others up to about three inches. The name gecko supposedly comes from their chirping call (chek chek chek), which sounds almost bird-like. Also known as house lizards, they are tolerated indoors because they eat so many mosquitos and other insects.  When I saw them at my first host family’s home, they looked so cute skittering up and down the walls after bugs, in and out of the kitchen, that I couldn’t help laughing. My host would just shake his head and say “dirty.”  And they are – you learn to watch out for their droppings. I don’t laugh all that often during my daily round of sweeping up gecko poop.  As far as I know, they can’t be trained to use a litter box!  Snails also get into the house every so often and leave poop to clean up, but I rarely see them. Geckos are there every day.

The bigger house lizards, which may grow to a length of nearly two feet, are called tokay; these are the ones whose call most resembles the name “gecko.” To me, it sounds like “eckk – ohh” repeated several times, a mournful sound, supposedly to attract a mate.  I haven’t haven’t seen one since moving into my rental house, but they’re here. I often hear them above me at night, so they must be on or in the roof somewhere.  I’m glad for high ceilings in this house!  If you don’t bother them, they don’t bother you. For a picture of the tokay, follow this link: http://www.naturephoto-cz.com/tokay-gecko-photo-1753.html

 

I found this guy, or gal, who knows, unfortunately already deceased, during my morning rounds with the broom recently. At first I thought it was a leaf, but quickly realized it was a big insect, and that it was doubtless the cause of the noise on the roof the night before. My first guess had been that the noise was related to the raucous party next door, but when I looked out, the revelers were all indoors, so that theory had to be scrapped.  The roof is tin, so the thrashing about of an insect this large could create the scrabbling, scraping noises I heard. It must have jumped or fallen from a tree to the roof and then got stuck.  After I posted the photo on Facebook, a friend sent me the scientific name, Pseudophyllus Titan, a nocturnal insect. Here is the link to more information in English and Thai, if you are interested. http://www.malaeng.com/blog/?paged=37

The insect brings to mind the frequently asked question: Do people in Northeastern Thailand eat insects?  -- Yes, they do, as well as other, um, alternative sources of protein that I’ve avoided by being a vegetarian.  Every so often a bowlful of bugs shows up on the lunch table in the teachers’ room at school. Some colleagues use a fork and spoon to eat them. Others take a small handful of sticky rice (another specialty of the region, always eaten with the fingers) and use a pinch of rice to pick up a morsel from the plate of bugs.  Insects are only a small part of people’s diet in this region. Look for more about food in a future post. Meanwhile, here’s a link to a post about different kinds of edible insects: http://voices.yahoo.com/which-fried-insects-eat-where-bangkok-thailand-6844082.html?cat=16

Toads and frogs also get into the house every so often. If you’re on Facebook, you probably saw a post in August about a toad in my bed. It was early on a Sunday morning, I was drinking coffee and reading news online, and while waiting for a web site to load (slow internet), decided to shake out my bedding.  When I picked up my blanket, there was the toad, a good-sized one, about as big as my fist, right next to the pillow. It had apparently come in under a door that doesn’t fit closely to the floor. The landlord fixed the problem by stuffing cardboard in the crack.  -- I didn’t think to take a picture of my unwanted visitor, just grabbed rubber gloves, picked up the toad, and took it outside. This photo from Wikimedia Commons is a good enough likeness.

Snakes:  I’m happy to say I’ve seen no snakes in the house yet, but it’s probably only a matter of time.  Every so often the morning news has videos of plumbers or pest control services having been called to extract a snake from the plumbing in someone’s house.  Stay tuned! 

Ziplining

Ziplining

 

Before my recent visit to Chiang Mai, one of Thailand’s most popular tourist destinations, I thought ziplining was the layer you zip into your jacket for the winter and zip out again in the spring.  Chiang Mai, the largest city in the northern province of the same name, has a plethora of historic sites, temples, museums, galleries, and markets -- ziplining wasn’t even on my radar screen for the weekend. However, the PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) friends I met up with had it high on their list and after learning more about it, I decided to go with them. I think it was the favorite activity of everyone in our group. – Of course you can go ziplining in the US too, no need to come all the way to Thailand. But ziplining here has a special beauty because you are in a tropical rainforest about an hour’s drive from the city of Chiang Mai, and it has a special poignancy, because it’s in a gibbon habitat area. 

The tour we chose is called “Flight of the Gibbon” because the lines that zip you from one launching platform to the next mimic the type of route that gibbons take as they swing from tree to tree.  But you can understand the name another way as well:  the gibbons seem to have taken flight from the area where the ziplines are installed. The only gibbons we saw were munching snacks at a feeding station that has been installed for them – and to give us tourists an opportunity to see them eating, from a safe distance. Otherwise, they stayed out of sight.

 The ziplining itself was really fun, exhilarating, and – after the first couple of launches – not the least bit scary. The guides who accompanied our group to hook us on to the zip line and off again treated us very professionally, which dispelled any apprehension some of us may have felt at first.  The views we experienced were extraordinarily beautiful – my photos can’t do justice to what it’s like to see the rain forest from those heights, or to look down and all around you while hanging from a line between two platforms.

As for the gibbons: they are very shy animals, with no interest in noisy tourists clambering up slopes, crossing hanging bridges from one launching platform to the next, and yelling aaah yaay aaah yaaah while zipping between the trees – if I were a gibbon, I’d stay away too. Gibbons are endangered not only because of habitat loss, but also by unscrupulous hunters who steal infant animals to sell as pets – a particularly heinous act because it usually involves killing the mother gibbon to get to the infants. It was somewhat reassuring to read on the website of treetopasia that Flight of the Gibbon invests part of their profits in rainforest rehabilitation and protection of gibbons – if you're interested, you can read more at http://www.treetopasia.com/rainforest-conservation/thailand-rainforest-conservation 

Sound Barriers

Sound Barriers:

Teaching English in Thailand

Teaching English in a Thai village has been a non-stop learning experience, at least for me. This post is about what I’ve come to think of as “sound barriers” for Thai students. As you read, remember that describing how Thais learn English is only description, not a value judgment. To any Thai teachers who may be reading this: Please post descriptions of sound barriers you run into when teaching Thai language to Americans!

Thais have their own accent when speaking English – just like people from everywhere else, including other English-speaking countries. The students are used to English with a Thai accent – my American accent sounds wrong to them. There’s a learning curve on both sides: I must learn what the built-in barriers are, and students must try to match what they hear me say to what they’ve heard in other English classes.

Thai students have trouble with the sounds “th” and “sh,” which don’t exist in Thai. Word pairs like thing and sing, thirteen and fourteen, chair and share, ship and chip sound alike to them. Do you watch or wash your hair?  Cash or catch a bus? Obviously, every language student struggles with sounds that don’t occur in their native language, but in Thailand, the students’ English textbooks add to the inherent difficulty in unexpected ways. The glossaries often contain pronunciation help in the form of English words spelled with Thai letters. Sounds that don’t exist in the Thai language will be written with a Thai letter that is “close” to the English sound  -- a Thai letter for the sound “ch” is used for words with “sh.”  English “th” is spelled with a Thai letter for the sound “t.” – Of course, Thai students spontaneously say “tree” for “three” and “chirt” for “shirt” anyway, but the glossaries create the impression that these are the correct pronunciations. This is an example of what I mean by a built-in barrier. My co-teacher and I try to overcome it with phonics-based lessons.

The consonants “r” and “l” are difficult too. Multiple factors come into play. For one, native speakers in most parts of Thailand substitute “l” for “r” in everyday speech: rak [to love] becomes “lak,” for example, and roong rian [school] is “loong lian.” This is just ordinary colloquial speech, not an error – the speakers know how these words are pronounced in Standard Thai. If you ask them whether these words are spelled with the letter law-ling or raw-reua, they tell you, correctly, raw-reua. (You can find both letters in the chart of Thai consonants below by looking at the pictures:  ling = monkey; reua = rowboat).

When speaking English, Thais often reverse “l” and “r” – that is, they say “r” where the English word has “l” and vice versa. So if I’m teaching words for occupations and show a picture of a pilot, I should also have a picture of a pirate handy to help students understand, and better hear, which sound goes with which word.  

 Of course, pictures aren’t much help with “labbit” instead of rabbit or “rike” instead of like – here, we resort to old-fashioned “make your mouth like this” advice. The sounds “l” and “r” aren’t exactly identical in English and Thai either, which makes it harder for the students to know which sound they are hearing in spoken English.  

Another difficulty is that the sound “l” doesn’t occur in word-final position in the Thai language, so students don’t know how to say “l” at the end of a word and substitute “n” – school becomes “skoon” and football is “footbon.”  Here, the complicating factor is in Thai spelling: the sound “l” doesn’t occur in word-final position, but the Thai letter for “l” does – pronounced “n.”  That makes it interesting for us foreigners learning to read Thai and failing to recognize common words when we see them in print. Recently, I was stumped trying to decipher the Thai word dtambon (= a subdivision of a district; a word I learned to say, but not spell, months ago).  If I “spell” that word by matching Thai letters to English letters, it looks like this: dtambl.  Of course, that word-final “l” is pronounced “n” in Thai.

There are 44 Thai consonant letters, and 32 vowels. One vowel that is confusing for Thai learners of English is the short “e” sound of head, guest, test, etc. Thai people tend to pronounce these words with the vowel of hate, gate, and taste, because there’s no Thai vowel sound exactly like that short “e.”  During vocab practice for parts of the body, students often say “hen” after hearing me say “head” (while pointing to a picture of a head). I believe this is at least partly because they’ve heard “head” pronounced as “hade” by Thai speakers.  Again, it’s best to have a picture of a hen tucked in with the body parts flash cards to help get through the sound barrier.  

 -- For my part, when my co-teacher says she’s going to have a test, I always think she’s going to eat something.

I could rattle off lots more examples of English sounds that give Thai students fits, but maybe these are enough to give you an idea of what my students and I deal with while trying to get through the sound barriers.

* * * * * * * * * * 

When reciting the Thai alphabet, students say the letter (e.g., gaw) and the word that’s used as a mnemonic, e.g., gai [=chicken], like this: gaw-gai, kaw-kai [= egg], kaw-kuat [=bottle], and so on. The mnemonics are a handy way to specify different letters for the same sound (there are 5 different letters for “k” sounds, for example).

"Buy You A Bed" and "Butcher"

“Buy You a Bed” and “Butcher”

Two Stories

First story. Leaving school late one afternoon, I pass one of my English colleagues sitting with other teachers, eating ice cream they bought from the ice cream cart guy. They invite me to join them.  After finishing the ice cream, they slice a green mango and eat it dipped in a sweet and spicy mixture, of which Thai fish sauce is a prominent ingredient (see link to recipe at the end of this post).  The dipping sauce leads to talk about smelly foods from various countries and I try to tell them about blue cheese, which I’m guessing they wouldn’t like. One of the women asks me about buying something, but I don’t understand her.  My colleague’s translation comes out as “she want to buy you a bed.”  Hmm, I think, that’s strange, but don’t pursue it.  A few minutes later, when they are telling me I can get it at Tesco Lotus, I realize that they mean “bread” – duh, of course. Thais routinely simplify consonant clusters in their own language – for example, fish sauce, “naam bplaa” comes out as “naam bpaa;”  handbag, “gra pao” is “ga pao,” and so on.  The same simplifications are made when they speak English, I should know that by now.  I do know it, just can’t always remember to scan their English sentences for missing consonants.  Sigh.

Second story.  My co-teacher and I have been assigned to serve as judges in two English events at an academic competition.  The contestants are elementary students (grades 1 - 6). In the morning we judge Impromptu Speech, which in Thailand means a memorized speech; the impromptu aspect is that the students must memorize several speeches and then draw lots to see which one they will recite/perform. The afternoon competition is a spelling bee. 

For the spelling bee, there are three judges, my co-teacher, me, and another teacher whom I will call Dee.  She speaks very good English, at a level of proficiency that is unusual for elementary school teachers in Thailand. Most elementary teachers were not English majors in college, and they must teach English on top of all the other subjects, so it’s hard for them to improve their proficiency. Dee and I talk about the spelling bee rules, which specify that “the foreigner” (i.e., native speaker) must pronounce the words the students will spell – a rule that strikes me as a bit unfair, since most students have learned English from a Thai teacher and thus won’t be familiar with a native speaker’s pronunciation.  But rules are rules. 

The conversation shifts to foreigners who don’t speak Thai and Thais who don’t speak English. I tell Dee it’s hard for me to practice speaking Thai because when I try, the Thais either assume I’m speaking English or don’t understand how I pronounce Thai. Either way, they answer me in English, then continue talking with each other in Thai.  She says, “They are afraid their English won’t be good enough.”  I say, but I’m trying to speak Thai with them, they know how to speak Thai, it’s not about how they speak English. She repeats that they are afraid their English isn’t good enough. It strikes me that she hasn’t understood what I was saying.  This is a trap I fall into – when speaking with someone like her, whose English is easy to understand, I tend to forget that just because it’s easy for me to understand them that doesn’t mean it’s easy for them to understand me.  Duh again.

The word lists for the spelling bee are not published in advance, but are made up by the judges.  My co-teacher and I make the list for students in grades 1, 2 and 3; Dee makes the list for students in grades 4, 5, and 6.  During the actual contest, I do my best to pronounce each word and its definition distinctly, neither too fast nor too slow, in the hope that my American accent won’t frighten the students too much. In each round a few students can spell enough of the words to go on to the final round.  So we are at the final round for grades 4, 5, and 6 and one of the words on the list is “butcher.”  The poor student who gets this word is totally stumped and can’t even come up with the first letter. He’s out of the running.  Later, as we are tidying up the room before leaving, Dee says she pronounces “butcher” as if the first syllable rhymed with Dutch or much.  No, I say, it’s butcher.  – Sigh again.  Note to self:  In the future, remember to read all the words to the person who made up the list before the contest starts.

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The link below will take you to a recipe for the dipping sauce for green mangos:

http://importfood.com/recipes/mamuangprionampla.html

A Teaching Assessment Visit

A Teaching Assessment Visit

August 8, 2013

During the first week of August, the PESAO (Primary Education Service Area Office) announced an assessment visit for our school. In order to prepare, teachers didn’t meet their Friday classes and instead spent the day cleaning, decorating their classrooms, hanging posters – one even took the weed-whacker to the weeds in front of our building.  Some of the students helped make posters and set up displays, others just hung out in their homerooms. To me, it seemed a shame that all this was happening now, rather than early in the term to give students the benefit of the displays. Still, the other teachers had been through this before and doubtless know how much importance the assessment team attaches to appearances.

My co-teacher and I were told to expect our classroom visit on Tuesday afternoon, when we have two regularly scheduled classes, so we conferred and then divided the work of making lesson plans, PowerPoints, flash cards, and worksheets for each class.  It was the most thorough preparation we’d done for any classes since the term began in May – just like teachers I used to observe in the US, going all out to impress the visitors.  As I’ve learned over the years, however, it doesn’t matter how many bells and whistles you add, you can’t fake being a better teacher than you are.  The quality of the lesson plans (including ours, of course) and the fit between teaching techniques and lesson goals reveal much about a teacher’s understanding of effective teaching.

On Tuesday morning, school beautification was still going on. Student workers showed up with big potted plants for outside the classrooms.  A colorful banner labeled “ASEAN Corner” went up on the wall – teaching about ASEAN (Association of South-East Asian Nations) is more or less mandated for all Thai schools. The teacher with the weed-whacker sliced down the tall grass behind the building, working right outside our classroom all through first period. My co-teacher negotiated with another teacher to switch classrooms for our first afternoon class so we could show a video.  We were ready!

 Me and the ASEAN Banner

A half-hour before our class, the PESAO English language supervisor arrived with a six-member team. I knew most of them from training seminars. They were going to sit in on only one class, not two as we had thought.  We gave them copies of our lesson plan and they met to confer; then, after a flurry of confusion getting the students to switch classrooms, the visitors settled on chairs in the back and we started class only a few minutes late. It’s a 4^th grade class, just beginning to read and write English. During the first three years, they learn to say and write our alphabet – which is vastly different from the Thai alphabet – but reading and writing English words is mostly new in Level 4.

The students were excited to have so many guests and were on their best behavior. The computer, however, was less so and there was a short delay before we could screen the video of children singing “The Phonogram Song.” Our lesson went smoothly – not only because we were so well-prepared, but also because we had met that class in the morning, during the weed-whacking. Thus, they were primed for the phonics-based lesson, volunteered answers to questions, and identified sound-letter correlations correctly most of the time.  The assessment team took pictures and videos throughout the period.

When the lesson was over, the English supervisor thanked us and gave us each a souvenir from the PESAO – mine is a set of two cute ceramic teacups with logo; my co-teacher got an elegant little vase. Our pictures were taken, individually and with each team member, in front of the ASEAN banner.  The team then withdrew for discussion, without us, for about a half hour before leaving.

Still in my American mind-set, I asked my co-teacher whether we would get feedback on our teaching in writing later, or whether a report was sent on up the line within the education office hierarchy, or what.  Oh no, she said, no feedback, but the video will be posted on the PESAO web site.  – So there you have it, one episode of teaching assessment, Thai-style.  I went to the web site (www.sakon2.th.gov) but couldn’t figure out how to find the video. But, hey, I have my teacups!