P'Om and I sleep through the 6 am alarm. And the half six. We have twenty minutes to get ready, collect the children from school and head to the ASEAN day competition in Chumphon. ASEAN is big business for Thai schools and as I mentioned previously, that means a big pressure on the kids to learn English as it will be the main language of the association.
I'm glad for my last minute wedding purchase of my plastic shoes as the heaven's open on the way to Chumphon and the rain pours relentlessly for the rest of the day. We jump between the puddles to our stall, which once dressed is overflowing with P'Om's impressive collection of certificates and English games. In fact all the surrounding stalls are laden with hours of teacher's creative thinking: flash cards, bingo, picture dice...hours of hard graft for some basic English vocab.
I wander round the stalls filled with fried banana, local Thai vegetables and tables open tables of children colouring in ASEAN drawings. The day itself is jam-packed with dance, writing, speaking and spelling competitions, all of which have fragmented our teaching over the past couple of weeks. Sadly my star pupil fails to remember whether he has a pet so we don't win, but as ever there are only smiles from everyone.
I also meet other English teachers posted to Thailand with the American Peace Corp. They're here on a two year placement and equipped with three months Thai language training. My two months stint seems to pale in comparison, and when I work out that there's only nineteen days left at my school it suddenly hits that this life I've acclimatised to over the past seven weeks is drawing to a close.
As we drive back, one of my student falls asleep in my lap, the rain stops and people emerge from their houses, running the last errands of the weekend. The thick green countryside blurs past us, trucks stuffed with pineapples, coconuts and durian rattling along beside. It's bizarre how quickly everything becomes familiar, from the roadside cows, the scooters five deep with families all huddled under one umbrella, the yellow noodle bars constantly chopping and steaming, the white, red and green glows of the 7/11's. I try to open my eyes to it all once again knowing that too soon that I'll be sat reading these posts back to myself only half believing that it all happened.
I'm glad for my last minute wedding purchase of my plastic shoes as the heaven's open on the way to Chumphon and the rain pours relentlessly for the rest of the day. We jump between the puddles to our stall, which once dressed is overflowing with P'Om's impressive collection of certificates and English games. In fact all the surrounding stalls are laden with hours of teacher's creative thinking: flash cards, bingo, picture dice...hours of hard graft for some basic English vocab.
I wander round the stalls filled with fried banana, local Thai vegetables and tables open tables of children colouring in ASEAN drawings. The day itself is jam-packed with dance, writing, speaking and spelling competitions, all of which have fragmented our teaching over the past couple of weeks. Sadly my star pupil fails to remember whether he has a pet so we don't win, but as ever there are only smiles from everyone.
I also meet other English teachers posted to Thailand with the American Peace Corp. They're here on a two year placement and equipped with three months Thai language training. My two months stint seems to pale in comparison, and when I work out that there's only nineteen days left at my school it suddenly hits that this life I've acclimatised to over the past seven weeks is drawing to a close.
As we drive back, one of my student falls asleep in my lap, the rain stops and people emerge from their houses, running the last errands of the weekend. The thick green countryside blurs past us, trucks stuffed with pineapples, coconuts and durian rattling along beside. It's bizarre how quickly everything becomes familiar, from the roadside cows, the scooters five deep with families all huddled under one umbrella, the yellow noodle bars constantly chopping and steaming, the white, red and green glows of the 7/11's. I try to open my eyes to it all once again knowing that too soon that I'll be sat reading these posts back to myself only half believing that it all happened.