Larceny In Lampang - Redux

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Larceny in Lampang

I wanted to let you all know that I've recently been robbed. That's right, and the only thing they took was my Mac Powerbook. The one thing that still connected me to the Western world is now a thing of the past. I'll update more later when I'm in the mood to regail you with the "hilarity" of it all, but right now I have a bag of dark chocolate Dove "Promises" and a pack of cigarettes to drowned my sorrows in. Oh, and it just so happens to also be 11 months of sobriety. Fitting.

Stuck In Place

Before I left on my month long holiday in October, I promised myself I would begin my job search as soon as I returned. I went so far as to post a note on my bathroom mirror that said, “Get a Job!” Prior to my departure, I’d done some preliminary research about various universities, potential cities, and areas of interest in higher education. I’d updated my resume to the best of my ability, and forwarded it to anyone who would read it for critiquing. Then, without a care in the world, I left for a month of laying in the sun on beaches that most people only see on postcards.

Upon my return, amid the course outlines, curricula planning, and various other teacher tasks that were set before me, I also found some time to begin the painstaking mission of searching for jobs. It’s amazing how much time can be spent looking for a new job, especially when that time should be spent on things related to your current job. That’s probably the tell tale sign that you’re on your way out the door. Alas, I finished the responsibilities related to my current position in time for the first day of classes.

I have been working since I was 16 years old – well over a decade of being in the American work force. In that time, I’ve had my fair share of hurdles, uncertainties, and frustrations. My most significant frustration came after I graduated from college in 2003. Armed with my bachelors in accounting, I was convinced that finding a job would be as simple as a few emails on monster.com and in a few short days I’d have the “job of my dreams.” It took me nearly a full year after graduation to land an accounting job, which it turned out I hated anyway. Though it was a frustrating year of job searching, it pales in comparison to what I’ve endured in simply applying for an international position while living and working in Thailand.

For starters, let’s talk about technology. In my town, the internet is not something that is readily available at one of your 3 neighborhood Starbucks. An internet connection in Thailand is something that is to be prized and cherished. There are days where I go without internet because it simply isn’t working – not just at school, or one coffee shop, but in the whole town. It’s as though the entire telecommunications company in Thailand took a holiday, and someone accidentally flipped the wrong switch before leaving the office for the day. When was the last time you went an entire 24 hours without checking your email, or better yet, your facebook? I don’t have internet in my apartment, not because I can’t afford it, which I can’t, but because internet is not an option.

In the western world, most people are walking around with their Crackberries or I-Never-Leave-My-Phone (i-Phone) – up to the minute news, email, and communication with their friends, not to mention games and music to keep them occupied from interacting with the people they pass on the street. I am living in a society where technology isn’t as prevaricating in the day-to-day lives of people. My current mobile phone is closer in model to the Zak Morris cell phone or “bag phones” that were hugely popular when mobile phones first hit the market in the 1980’s. I can text, and I can talk on my mobile phone – both of which are dependent on my location, time of day, and position of the sun in relation to the Tropic of Capricorn. Ask anyone who’s called me – it’s a task just dialing the ridiculously long phone number. What’s +011? As you can imagine, technological idiosyncrasies create some barriers when you are trying to apply for a job in a more technologically advanced society.

Technology aside, let’s assume I have a stellar day in which the sun is in line with the tropic of Capricorn, and I have an internet connection and mobile phone reception. Then we come to the simple task of submitting the paperwork necessary for certain positions. The current position I applied for did not require that much paperwork. A cover letter, CV with references, and an Adobe application. No problem – I submit all these things online via email. However, as any good career counselor will tell you, it is important to send a hard copy of your application to the company. It shows you are truly interested in the position for which you are applying. I jump on the computers at school, and sure enough our printer is out of ink. In most cases, this would be a simple task of replacing the ink cartridge – a 5 minute process in even the most rudimentary offices. Not here – here it’s a matter of physically taking the ink cartridge to the ink supply man in town and having him fill up the cartridge for you. What I’ve just spent in gas and time could have easily bought a brand new cartridge to have on reserve … just in case.

Alright, I took it as a sign that I shouldn’t be using resources of my current employer, while I seek out employment elsewhere. Armed with my USB drive, I search out a place in which to print my materials. Amidst this shenanigan, I also realize I will need resume paper to print on. I stop at one of the 600 local stationary stores in a 3 block radius of my apartment. As I search their resume paper, I discover that all of their professional resume paper is flanked with unicorns or teddy bears, or rainbows. I know you want your resume to stand out, but that’s the social equivalent to performing fellatio during mass at church – people will notice, but not in a good way. After searching 3 stores I discover the Thailand equivalent to resume paper – thick, white paper that is probably used to print those annoying perfume samples in magazines. A bit glossy, but it beat teddy bears and pink unicorns with glitter.

I have the paper – at least, the Thai equivalent. I have the USB stick with my electronic resume. Now all I need is a place that has a computer connected to a printer with ink. I stumble into one of the many shops that boasts faxing and printing capabilities. Using my well-developed charades skills and my very broken and limited Thai language skills, I find a place that I will be able to print my materials. I jump on the computer and sure enough – no Adobe reader. Feeling defeated, I decide to print the rest of my application materials on my glossy resume paper, only to discover that ink jet printers and glossy paper do not make such a fantastic combination – leaving my document looking like it was typed in Arabic, not English. After printing 5 different times, I choose the sheets that turned out the best. Like my sister after she has finished lacquering her nails, I blew on each sheet for about 3 minutes in order to make sure the ink was dried. I pop these semi-coherent documents into an envelop and mail it off to my perspective employer, all the while thinking, maybe I was better off with the unicorns and teddy bears with glitter.

After I finished this laborious task, I started to think about searching for a new job and the hurdles I had to go through to submit one application, however incomplete. Even before the downturn of the global economy, there was a large number of individuals who were unemployed; some subsequently homeless and severely impoverished because of the financial hardships. In the States, most people have become immune to the homeless person they see sitting on the street. They can’t be bothered to fish out some change in their pocket, or supply them with the leftovers from their gluttonous meal at the local TGI-Friday’s. They walk by pretending not to see them, thinking that it’s their “choice” to be homeless; after all, McDonald’s is always hiring. Besides, they’ll only buy booze with whatever money you give them. I’m guilty with the rest; I used to have these same thoughts run through my head as I passed people on the streets. That was before I realized the hardships that are keeping this individual stuck in place. Getting derailed is not what anyone plans with his or her life, but it happens. Some of us are capable of getting back on track with minimal effort, while others are less fortunate. I’ve been blessed with family and friends who support me, as well as the resources to educate myself – something I give thanks for every day. However, this simple act of applying for jobs while living in a less developed country has made me cognizant of the fact that sometimes getting back on track can be like trying to run in wet cement. While it’s possible to stay on track with those who are strolling along on the paved road, sometimes the effort of simply trying to keep up is too much. Eventually the task of lifting each foot becomes so arduous that being stuck in place is all you can do as you weather the storms that come your way.

Winter Wonderland

Living in Chicago my entire life, I quickly learned that there are two seasons – winter and summer. The spring and autumn seasons can only be truly felt by the most seasoned Chicagoan. You can usually spot them on those days when the temperature drops 40 degrees in a matter of 7 hours. While most people are standing on the El platform in their flip-flops and cargo shorts pondering the absence of the sunny skies and summer-like temperatures that were present when they were getting dressed that morning; the seasoned veteran is the only one who is prepared for the day with a warm coat and an umbrella. Sure enough, the next day it will be negative 30 degrees and snowing – remaining that way until mid-May when the reverse happens. Fortunately, spring is more forgiving because it is much easier to take clothes off. However, you have to be careful with the “teaser” days – those days when it’s sunny and 60 degrees in the middle of March. Inevitably, you’ll have a parade of assholes out washing their cars in shorts – that’s how you know spring is on its way in Chicago.

Prior to my departure for Thailand, packing was a huge undertaking for me. I was informed that although Thailand is a sub-tropical climate, the north experiences more “seasons” than other parts of the country. With that, I was told that the temperature could dip down to about 10 degrees Celsius (50 F) during the “winter” months. I scoffed at this illusion of “winter” – after all, I’m from Chicago and we know winter. I packed 2 long-sleeved shirts, my North Face jumper, a skullcap, and an extra pair of jeans – winter, puh-leeze! When I first stumbled off the plane in Lampang and nearly suffocated from the humidity, I immediately thought those “winter” clothes were packed in vain. I buried them at the back of my closet, figuring that the next time I saw them would be when I was repacking for my “springtime” journey back to Chicago.

Thailand has what amounts to 3 different seasons – rainy season (May – October), high season (November – February), and hot season (March – April). After spending my first few months here, I surmised the seasons would probably be more along the lines of: rainy, hot, and fucking hot! I have been sorely mistaken by my assumptions. For starters, the rainy season is officially over. It has rained maybe three times since I’ve been back from my holiday. Every day is reminiscent of spring or autumn in Chicago – when you are lucky enough to experience it. The day starts off cool but quickly heats up to about 23 degrees Celsius (75 F). The sky is a stunning Safire blue, completely unobstructed by clouds. Each day is concluded with a stunning sunset that produces some of the most amazing colors being scattered across the sky – usually around 18:30PM. At this point, the temperature begins to rapidly drop again. With no cloud coverage after the sun goes down, dare I say – it actually gets chilly. I understand that most of my readers are living in the arctic freeze of Chicago, where the wind off the lake in January has caused flesh wounds on contact – so, when I say that it’s chilly, I don’t think empathy is coming my way.

After living in a constant state of swamp-ass for the past 5 months, my blood has definitely thinned out. Also, there are no clouds in the sky to trap the heat of the day. Additionally, Lampang is located in the mountains – a higher elevation than most other areas of the country. Compound that with the fact that my method of transportation is Bixby – a Honda Dream Motorbike. He’s a great piece of machinery, but missing some modern luxuries like heating, air conditioning, a radio, doors, windows, or seating for four. Bixby does have heated seats – just another perk of sitting on the engine. While tooling around in the evening, or on my way to school in the morning, I am usually clad in a short-sleeved shirt, some type of linen or cotton trouser, and flip-flops – not exactly materials that shield you from the elements when you’re traveling at 60 kilometers an hour. My hands become frigid, my feet are numb, and my nipples could be used to direct traffic if need-be. I realize it’s not cold – 10 degrees Celsius is not causing anyone hypothermia or the lose of limbs due to frost-bite. However, my perspective has changed in the five months since I left Chicago. I have become acclimated to the 32+ Celsius days, sweating my weight in water on a daily basis, and learning that sometimes even sitting is too strenuous an activity. That’s why I fully intend on embracing the “winter wonderland” of Lampang, by purchasing a new scarf, hat, gloves, and hooded sweatshirt – Brrrrr, it’s getting cold here!

Change is Good

Warning – This entry touches on political issues of the United States of America.

During the month of October, I had the opportunity to meet a wide array of individuals. I met folks from Canada, a bloke from England, a kiwi from New Zealand, an Australian from Down Under, and Germans from the Rhineland. Not surprising, I met very few tourists who hailed from the good old U.S. of A. Traveling or living abroad, you soon discover the animosity that is truly felt toward Americans. Every time I struck up a conversation with other Westerners, the topic inevitably found its way to the United States Presidential Election, and the first question out of everyone’s mouth was – “Whom do you want to win?” These conversations of politics also gave me a grave insight into the way in which Americans are perceived by other nations.

For starters, several individuals have told me that people believe that all Americans are like President George W. Bush. This realization scared the shit out of me. However, I had to think about individuals living in parts of the world who have limited resources to things like fresh water, clean clothes, and a non-violent environment in which to raise their children; let alone major news coverage or a high speed internet connection where they can access BBC and CNN for up to the minute news. People living in Rawanda, or the Democratic Republic of Congo, or Sudan, or Kenya – these people perceive the United States from what is portrayed through their limited access to media. It only makes sense that the President’s face would pop-up every time they learn the latest in the War Against Iraq. No wonder the majority of the world dislikes Americans – we’re viewed collectively by the individual who leads our country.

I’m not going to get all political on you here – though something tells me, I already have. I will say that I voted in this year’s election, and given the amount of hurdles I had to jump through to submit my absentee ballot, I am thrilled that my vote counted (Not that Illinois needed my help). Submitting my absentee ballot was a startling reality of the bureaucracy that still exists and reminded me of the oppression in our nation and the world abroad. It should come as no surprise that I voted for Illinois Senator, Barack Obama. I readily identified with his platform more so than that of John McCain, and please don’t get me started on his running mate, Sarah Palin. I think she’s proof-positive that pro-longed Vitamin D deficiency will cause serious psychological damage.

On Wednesday, November 5, I canceled the majority of my classes. I wanted to know who won the election and I wanted to be a part of this moment in history – whatever the outcome. During the spotty cable coverage I watched on CNN at my school, I started to realize how much I miss Chicago as a city. The skyline, the people, the energy – it all made me so homesick! As the results poured in, I became ecstatic when it seemed definitive that Mr. Obama would be our 44th president. For the first time in my life I felt truly connected to a presidential candidate and a political party. For the first time I felt as though someone had finally been listening to what I wanted in my government – in my nation’s leader. Barack Obama inspires me, not only because he is the first black president, but also because he has helped me realize that there are doors and barriers that still need to be broken down. We are still living in a society where the color of a person’s skin is the deciding factor of their content and character. Listening to his acceptance speech, I became misty eyed – just shy of crying in front of my students. Today, I am very proud to be an American.