Well, it's been a busy week in Mahasarakham. Tuesday I had my last set of interviews with the EIC kids. Wednesday I went to the 4th year English Major's production of "The Promise", a play based on the ballet, "Menora", for which the King wrote the music.

It was delightful with good acting, beautiful dancing, a bit of comic relief, and an artificial tree that they must have moved 20 times back and forth through various scenes .(?)

It was held in an outdoor amphitheater, hot as hell, and complete with swarms of mosquitoes. The benches dead center were covered with red satin cloth to indicate that they were reserved for the teachers and we were served cake and water when we arrived. Afterwords, there was the requisite question and answer period (with prizes, of course), a truckload of flowers handed out, and photo ops that went on forever. Curiously, I never see the results of these photos - not published, not posted on the university website, where do they go? Why would you take thousands of photos if you never share them? It makes no sense to me.

I was able to snag a ride home with Seamus as I was out past the witching hour (in this case, 8 pm when the songtaews stop running.)

Thursday I was scheduled to tutor the pharmacy lecturers as they prepare to take their TOEFL exam, and then there was a Chinese New Year Celebration hosted by the Confucius Institute, the organization that I told you give free Chinese professors to universities on request .

We signed in - I don't know why, there was no door prize and why else would you sign in - and sat down to a lovely printed program (in both Chinese and Thai, so I'm double screwed), a plate of kumquats (they are so good, I never had them before, and the air was orange scented throughout the evening), hard candies, a Pepsi, a bottle of water, a piece of cake, and a red Chinese tassel type thing. (If I had two of them, I could practice my moves.)

The show started an hour and a half late (actually started at the proposed ending time) and it was mosquitoey hot again, but it was a wonderful presentation. The Chinese girl dancers looked like kewpie dolls with rouged cheeks and perpetual smiles. Some men in white satin pajamas did amazing break dance moves, a lady painted a picture of bamboo on camera while students played ethnic instruments, there was a quiz show portion where people tried to guess the picture behind them (how do you mime synchronized swimming for heaven's sake?) and repetition of Chinese tongue twisters, and a group of 4 young men who seriously resembled the Village People did a comedy skit that was humorous even in Chinese . Then of course, photo sessions. You may be seeing me on You tube, I have no idea where all these pictures go.

Once again, I was out past songtaew, so Dr. Wiyupa gave me a lift home. I feel like such a mooch. I often think of that line of Blanch DuBois in Streetcar Named Desire, "I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers."  That's me, alright.

On Friday, I had to go to the International Relations Office for the 4th time to ask for an ID card (I don't know why I care, I just got a bug up my xxx) only to be told, "It's been here waiting for you. Go pick it up."  Nice of them to let me know. "Go over to the other side of the building, 3rd floor, Personnel Office, ask for Mr. Pat."  I insist on writing it down in front of the girl, I've been through this before. The third floor finds me asking some strange lady for the Personnel Office - she doesn't seem to know although it turns out to be next door . I ask for Mr. Pat. She says "You must mean Mr. Paul."  "No Pat, see? I wrote it down in the International Office."  After much discussion, I suggest that they call the IR office to confirm the name. This they do and it turns out that I should be looking for Mr. Parat, who as I mentioned before, is in the next room.

I am also told something to the tune of - don't have insurance card yet, wrong employment status, will change employment status but you'll get the same salary (?), meeting next month, will get insurance card in March (that would be 6 months since I started work.) What if I have to go to the hospital before March? Take your passport. Yeah, that'll work.

On Friday night we went to the ballet. It was supposed to be a well known ballet company from Bangkok. It was very beautiful, with many opening 'acts', although the actual ballet, "Menora", was quite short. Beforehand were all sorts of dancing and an art auction . (not to be redundant, but ?)

Now here's the weird part. I just can't wrap my head around what transpired. We show our tickets which we paid 150 B for ($4.50 US) and are told to go to the second floor. There we are seated in the balcony overlooking the open air courtyard in plastic chairs perched on plywood risers. No problem. It's hot but I'm sure it will cool off as the show begins.


When we look over the balcony, below us are linen covered tables with white covered chairs tied with gold lame' bows. Each table has pitchers of beer, wine, soda, and young men are serving dinner, grilled fish on a hibachi type apparatus among other things. Obviously, we are in the cheap seats. No problem. Except that we soon realize that down below us, within spitting distance, is the faculty of the Department of Western Languages - our faculty (supposedly.)

What happened here? Apparently the department reserved a table for their faculty but only for Thai teachers? As a matter of fact, we farangs are the only teachers up in the balcony, below us are teachers from all over the university . I feel like the hillbilly cousins from Appalachia - are they ashamed to be seen with us? Would they not, at the very least, come upstairs and apologize, making up some story about there not being enough seats at the table? Many tables remain empty though out the night, wouldn't they say "Come down, we'll get another table?"  I am confident that they would never be treated like this in another country. I feel embarrassed, I feel dismissed, I feel disrespected. I can't imagine in what scenario this would be acceptable behavior. I can't imagine ever doing anything so thoughtless and insensitive to a fellow teacher, no less a guest in my country. I thought these people were my friends.

I am resigned to think that I will never really fit in here.