My job interview at Mahasarakham University is over, thank you God. I have spent the last three or four days researching answers to possible questions. Will they ask about education theories? I’ve reviewed them all, and prepared a salient comment on each. Research? You know what I think of research. Will they throw in a grammar ringer? (I know my perfect progressive tense perfectly now.) Will they make me teach a spontaneous demonstration lesson? But what age/ability level are we aiming for here? Just in case, I have prepared 2 ESL lessons - one beginner, and one at what I would guess the English proficiency of a Thai university student to be. I have practiced intelligent answers to sample interview questions. I have made enough copies of my credentials to pass out to all.   I have puked. Bring on those bad boys.

In actuality, they asked me none of the above. Where do you come from, why are you here, how long will you stay, where did you teach before, will you be happy with 30k Baht a month. They were very good and gracious to me, even sending a driver to Khon Kaen airport to pick me up (1 hour away), reserving a hotel for me, picking me up for the interview, etc.

So it’s all over but the waiting. I think it went ok, but you can’t read a Thai’s thoughts very well, they are adept at smiling and bowing graciously to people they abhor.

I had an interesting ride over from the airport last night, though.   The boy (he looked about 14, but then Thais have discovered the fountain of youth, I think) spoke virtually NO English. Apparently, Dr. Inty (the head of the Foreign Language/Linguistics department) sent him over with a sign and instructions to take the falang to the New Pattana Hotel in Mahasarakham. Which he did.

It was pouring down, torrential rains (Typhoon Ketsana in Philippines and Vietnam), and he had the air con set on “freeze your kahoonas off.” I swear the graphic on the dial was two blue testicles. I have since learned that this is the international symbol for "let's stick it to these American fat cats."  I wrestle with my self - should I (can I?) endure or should I say something? When I feel like my nose is about to fall off, I lean forward, touch the air button and say, “Can you get some heat? Rawn?" (one of the few Thai words I've aquired.) Apparently he thought I said I was hot, and turned the air UP another notch. Sweet Jesus. Ten minutes later, I am obligated to try again or risk permanent nerve damage to my appendages. “Please, heat? I’m cold! Brrrrrrr!” I mime. I suppose you can already guess what happened next. That sneaky little shit turned the air up ANOTHER notch. I think he was busting my chops. Wanna play games, Falang? Well, watch this!  Now I am in fear of the next attempt - could it possibly get any colder? I feel like a Popsicle. I dig in my backpack and find a garbage bag style rain poncho and wrap myself up in plastic. When I get out of the car an hour later, I look like a plucked chicken and my glasses fog up in the heat outside.

And we drive through these dark deserted country roads at break-neck speeds. I look at the speedometer and it says 130 km - quick calculations in my head - ok, if I’ve calculated correctly , he’s doing about 80 in a rainstorm on a deserted highway in the middle of nowhere.   Don’t these people worry about deer running out in front of them? Or elephants? It occurs to me that if I die right then and there no one will ever know. No one knows where I am or even who I am. And don’t count on getting any information from this little weasel.

We are way up north, four hours from Laos, not a falang in sight , nobody speaks a single word of English here and all the signs are in Thai only.   Not like user friendly Bangkok with its English subtitles. The boy at the hotel desk (dressed in ancient Thai garb) is totally clueless as to anything I say. I try desperately to get change for a 1,000 Baht bill to pay the driver - I wave the bill at him, point to the driver, and say “Change, you know, haa roi, nung roi, nung roi, nung roi, nung roi, nung roi. (500, 100,100,100,100,100.) He smiles, holds up his finger and says “Haa roi bat sip” (580, the price of the room) and hands me a key. Fortunately, Mr. Snowmeister suddenly springs to life and explains to him in Thai. Odd, when it comes to money, he suddenly understands English.

The bellhop (also in ancient Thai costume, think Anna and the King of Siam) takes me to a lovely room complete with king size bed, sofa, safe, air con, tv, dvd, refrigerator, and a selection of about a dozen dvds, all for $18/nt. He opens the fridge, gestures and says “Minibar - free.”  Hmmm, I think I really like this hotel. These Thais really know how to treat their guests. Then he points to the two dusty bottles of water on the dresser - “Water, no free.”  What an odd approach to hotel hospitality!  

Oh, wait, wait a minute, now I get it. It’s that old Asian problem with the "R" again. They not only drop it, or exchange it for an L , they also throw in an extra R in on occasion. Minibar, fee. Water, no fee.