Challenge: Keeping the Electricity On

Sometimes living in another country is really great, like when I get to eat delicious foods and see fun things and not have to face reality or responsibilities.

Wheeeee!**

**DO NOT TELL MY FATHER ABOUT THIS PHOTO. I DO NOT NEED THE LECTURE ABOUT MOTORCYCLE SAFETY OR LACK THEREOF.

Sometimes it’s not so great, like when I start to realize that not being able to read signs and menus is really annoying. Or when I can’t figure out why my pre-paid phone credit has expired, even though I only bought it a week ago.

Or especially when I come home from a week and a half away to find that the electricity has been shut off.

Obviously, my electricity could have been shut off back home, as well, but it never was. Why? Because I knew what the electricity bills looked like and I always always always paid them on time. I was a VRP (Very Responsible Person).

That was before I moved to Thailand.

I had a flight from Chiang Mai to Bangkok at 5:40 in the evening on Friday night. I was so excited to come home to my own bed, my own bathroom, all of my clothes and internet and food and couch and–it was going to be awesome!

Cue ominous music. Duh duh duuuuuh. So hopeful. So pretty.* So, so stupid.

*Shut it, people!

So, I get my bags, catch the airport train home (and the airport train station at Rajaprarop is another rant altogether), and trudge home with everything because I can’t catch a cab, but it’s okay because I will be home in a few minutes and I will take a shower and get some food and sit on my ass all night and it is going to be awesome, in bold.

I got my mail out of the mailbox and was disappointed because it was all junk mail. Isn’t that the worst? You come home from a long trip and all you have is junk mail. What a bummer.

Nobody loves me!*

*Actually, I’m exaggerating for literary effect, because I did have a package at the front desk from my lovely and amazing friend, Jess. Thanks, Jess!

I opened my front door and thought everything was fine at first, and then I noticed that, um, it seemed the electricity wasn’t working. I checked the fridge and it was warm. Really warm. And lights weren’t coming on. Yeah the electricity was definitely off. Um?

Hopefully, I thought maybe all of the units’ electricity wasn’t working. I peeked over the balcony and realized, nope, it was just me. At this point, I started to panic. I mean, the people in my condo building don’t speak much, if any English, and I don’t speak much, if any, Thai. I had no idea who actually supplies electricity to the people of Bangkok, as I’d just assumed it was some kind of magical wizardry, and I was pretty sure I was going to be electricity-less for the rest of my life.

I am nothing if not dramatic.

After a bit of a freak out, I called Good Buddy Josh, who told me to go over to his apartment, right down the street from me, even though he and Brock weren’t there. I started to resentfully (not at Josh–at my stupid situation) and tearfully pack a backpack and then decided to go through my junk mail.

I started to toss out a couple of envelopes, but stopped. I looked at the logo in the corner of one of the envelopes. I looked a little closer. It sure looked like a building with electricity shooting out of it. I opened it, already knowing what it would be. It was definitely an electricity bill.

Son of a bitch!

So, turns out what I thought was junk mail that I had been throwing out was actually my electricity bill. I had been wondering how I could live in a place for three months and not get a bill, but I figured I’d misunderstood something when I was signing the lease. More optimistically, I had been hoping that the landlord was actually paying the bill and letting me off easy.

I spent the night at Brock and Josh’s, then came back over in the morning to deal with the electricity business. I went to the agent in my building who had rented me the place back in August and explained what had happened.

I started waving my arms around. “No lights! Have…” I didn’t know the word for ‘bill’. “No lights! Paper…”

She looked at the bill and started laughing. “You don’t have electricity?”

“No!”

She then dragged me over to the front desk, still laughing, and told the people at the front desk what had happened. They started laughing, too.

“Megan, you never paid a bill?”

“No!”

“But you have to pay the bill!” Laughter.

“Now know! I don’t understand! I think…uh…don’t understand. Now understand!” My Thai isn’t so great, and apparently I always speak in exclamations.

Then they laughed because my electricity bill was so low and obviously I was an incredible cheapskate who only turned on the air conditioner when I slept. Which is true, that’s what I do.

“But, Megan, you can turn on the air conditioner when you’re not sleeping, too!”

“Yes! Can!”

Megan: Providing hours of amusement for Thai people since 2010.*

*With the fantastic Dani from Girl Scott Cookies. She’s hilarious, and good people, on top of it.

Turns out the electric company is completely closed on the weekend, which is superb customer service because who really needs the electric company on the weekend? Only slightly mentally fragile farang, like me!  I was about ready for another panic, when they told me there was a way, somehow, for the condo building to magically supply me with electricity if I threw some money at them. So I threw some money at them, and then I learned my third valuable lesson of the weekend, which was: 15 minutes in Thailand = 3 hours.

So, 3 hours later, I magically got my electricity back, and I could return to being a real person with access to the internet.

Because how do you know you’re alive if you can’t get on the intertubes?

You don’t, that’s how.

Final Score:

Keeping the Electricity On: 0   Megan: 1

I suppose this is a bit premature, as the agent at my building told me she would pay the bill for me on Monday (today), so fingers crossed I have electricity for the rest of the day! Update: It’s now afternoon and the electricity is still on! Hooray!

UPDATE 2: So, we left the apartment to get groceries for dinner at about 5:15 on Monday evening. I saw the agent, who gave me a receipt for my bill and reminded me about 25 times that I had to pay the bill (dumb white person), and made sure the electricity was still on, which it was. We went to the grocery store and came home at 6:03…and guess what? THE ELECTRICITY WAS OFF AGAIN, and the people in the office leave exactly at 6:00. I started to have a serious freak out at that point, and we had to go downstairs for me to try to speak Thai over the phone to the guy who didn’t speak a damn word of English. It was painful, but I managed to convey both my apartment number and the fact that I didn’t have electricity before he hung up on me. I then sat morosely in my apartment, staring off into space and trying to get internet on my Kindle because THAT IS WHAT I NEEDED RIGHT THEN, while Jason went to get dinner, and in the next 10 minutes, the electricity was back on. I NEED TO GET OFF THE EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER, BANGKOK. PLEASE LEAVE THE ELECTRICITY ON NOW. I’M SORRY FOR WHATEVER I DID TO MAKE YOU ANGRY.

Lessons learned–

Lesson 1: Thailand doesn’t mess around with shutting your electricity off. I mean, it was only three months, people!

Lesson 2: Now I know what electricity bills look like!

Lesson 3: 15 minutes= 3 hours

Lesson 4: Electricity is powered by money, not magical wizardry. Who knew?! WAIT! Maybe it’s magical wizardry powered by money! Food for thought, people, that’s what you come here for!

UPDATE Lesson 5: Even money doesn’t help the electricity and I’m kind of on the edge of a breakdown here…

Challenge: Not Being a Pain. In. The. Ass. Student

I’m going to go ahead and spoil the surprise for you: I’m losing this smackdown.

Because you know who makes the worst students ever?

Teachers.

If you’re a teacher, you already knew that answer, of course, because you know everything. As I do, because I’m a teacher, too.

Please don’t go splitting hairs and thinking, Uh, she isn’t a teacher. She’s not even working–she’s nothing but a layabout! I understand that, and I agree with it, but I am a teacher at heart. Now sit down and shut up because you’re going to be learning a lot today.

See? Teacher at heart.

My point–before you interrupted me–

 

This is a decent example of my teacher look. Please don't make me break out the real teacher look because it will stop you in your tracks!

 

–was that teachers makes the worst students ever. I think there are a variety of reasons for this, like:

1.) Um, hi, we’re teachers, not students. We’re used to being in charge of everything in the classroom, not having somebody be in charge of us in the classroom. This translates to something like–You want me to do what? Well, I want to sit here in my chair and continue talking to my friend, thanks.

 

Don't tell me what to do! I'm going to have fun!

 

 

2.) We’re pretty sure, deep down, that we are a better teacher than the person teaching us. There are notable exceptions, of course–I’ve been in some classrooms where I’ve just been in complete awe. Still, I think even if God awarded somebody Teacher of the Universe For All Past, Present and Future Time, most teachers out there would be able to find a flaw. The other teacher is definitely doing it wrong. Doing what wrong? Something. Possibly everything.

• Teacher 1: Did you see the Teacher of the Universe’s handwriting? How does she expect students to understand that insanely perfect penmanship?
• Teacher 2: And that interpretive dance she did while speaking in four languages to explain the 4th dimension of space to students who came here yesterday and don’t speak a single word of English? I mean, all the students passed the college-entrance exam based on that alone, and everybody else thought it was amazing, but I just thought it was pathetic pandering. We’re teachers, not entertainers.

3.) We love using sound, research-based educational theories on our students, but hate to have them used on us. Don’t try to trick me into enjoying this, Other Teacher! Won’t work! I’m on to you…

 

Ain't happenin'.

 

So guess what happens when I sit in Thai class 4 hours a day, 5 days a week?

I’m a pretty critical student, I’m not going to lie, but I don’t usually do anything about it. Yesterday, however, my entire class was very frustrated with our teacher. At the break, we were discussing how somebody needed to talk to her, so I suggested the entire class bring up our concerns together as a gesture of our solidarity. We fight together or we die! The 8 Musketeers! All for one and one for all!

The class decided instead to nominate somebody to talk to her one-on-one; somebody whose culture is known for being straight-up rude and obnoxious; somebody who really enjoys complaining in private, but doesn’t really like to do anything about it: Me.

Yup, I got nominated to be the Resident Pain in the Ass Farang Student.  I’m also the only farang, so there really wasn’t a lot of competition.

I don’t really want to go into all the sordid details about the whys and the what-happeneds (ugh, don’t you hate it when people say that? Like, just tell me the story already!), because I really do like my school and I’ve learned a ton. I’m not trying to badmouth my school here, honestly.

I just want to say–Remember that smackdown? Remember how I already spoiled the surprise?

Hi, I’m Megan, and I’m a pain in the ass.

Final Score

Not Being a Pain in the Ass Student: 1    Megan: 0

I’m just finding it really…interesting to have the tables turned and to be back in the kind-of-full-time student seat. It’s weird. I want to be in charge! I want to swipe the whiteboard marker from the teacher and do it myself because I am sure I will do a better job. I have really got to learn to let go a little more. But it’s hard!

Challenge: Sitting Down and Studying Thai

When I was in 7th grade, classmates in my English class passed around a petition to ask the teachers to give us less homework. I was the only one who signed the NO side and I also thoughtfully added the reasons why I thought homework was important.

Luckily, despite this, I actually had friends and never got beat up or bullied. I mean, thinking about it right now, I even want to bully myself. Seriously, 7th Grade Megan? Good grief.

I was ahead of my time: I was a nerd before it was cool to be a nerd.

 

Hipsters now pay hundreds of dollars for this look. I was a visionary!

 

I have successfully completed 19 years of school with very good grades. I have studied Spanish and French, and I can be passable in both if I need to be. My point is that I’m fairly intelligent and I like school, I like studying, and I’m maybe a teensy bit above average with languages.

When I moved here, I wanted to be able to at least ask where the bathroom is (mission accomplished–I’m done!), so I started taking Thai classes almost 4 weeks ago.

I usually start out the morning feeling very optimistic, which is pretty much the complete opposite of my regular personality. Still, every morning I wake up thinking that this will be the day I finally speak Thai in class without going, Ummmmmmmmm…no, that’s not right….umm….wait, I gotta look it up….

This is how I feel when I get out of bed–well, not right when I get out of bed, because at that point I am usually extremely grumpy and upset, so maybe when I’m on my way to the train station–

 

Yes, I WILL get over this insurmountable barrier in my way! I can DO it!

 

This is how I usually feel after an hour or so of Thai class–

 

Why is it so HARD? **

 

**Yes, that is a picture of me.

I usually feel like this is totally my own fault. I come home determined to study and end up taking a nap, then I get sucked into the internet and bad Thai music videos, and before I know it it’s 11:30 p.m. and oh crap I didn’t even crack my books and I don’t even remember how to say 11:30 p.m. in Thai because that’s one of those things I was supposed to go back and review and never did and how do you say, “I can’t remember” in Thai, anyway, because that was also one of those things I was supposed to go back and review and never did and…oh, screw it, I’m going to bed. I’ll listen to the lesson in the morning on the way to the Sky Train.

I’m going to let you decide what the odds are that I actually listen to the lesson on the way to the Sky Train in the morning.

The thing is, I’m really enjoying my Thai classes and when I force myself to study I do much better. Duh, right? Good thing I got that master’s degree in teaching, which I will be paying off for the next 10 years! Smart-like!

I think I’m having problems because Party Megan is bugging me again.

 

She's starting to get kind of annoying.

 

The worst part about Party Megan is that all she wants to do is sit around in her underwear, eat food other people have prepared, and talk about herself in the third person. It’s not like she wants to do stuff, like actually party.

I guess my brain is just taking a break to focus on other things, but I’m urging it to get back on track soon. In the meantime, I’ve actually learned a lot of Thai and have had successful conversations with taxi drivers, grandmas at the market, and Noodle Lady. I just have to forget incidences like this:

Me, wanting to ask how much the soup is: What are you doing?

Person, confused because she is obviously selling food: ??

Me: No, no, I mean, what are you eating?

Person, too confounded for words, as she is clearly selling food and not eating it: ….

Friend from class: Um, you want to ask “How much is it?”.

Me: Dear Brain, it would be great if you could start working again, thanks.

________________________________________________________________

Final Score:

Studying Thai: 1   Megan: 0

Look, I know all the theories, okay? I know perfectly well that I need a routine and that I also absolutely cannot come home to study because I will immediately fall asleep on the couch. Studying Thai, I’m determined to beat you! I just need to check out what the LOL cats have been up to first, and there’s this new Thai movie I want to see the trailer for…

Challenge: Ordering Noodles from a Street Stall

I eat from street stalls at least once a day because the food is ridiculously cheap ($1-2), fresh, and amazingly delicious. Before I started Thai classes, a mere 8 days ago, I was reduced to grunting and pointing at the food I wanted, much like a middle schooler in the school cafeteria.

Sometimes I miss those little heathens.

I don't miss them THAT much.

Anyway, yesterday I was honestly able to order some food at a street stall and have a sort-of conversation.

The Noodle Lady is super nice and says hi to me every time I walk past, and as a bonus, her noodle soup is amazing. This is a transcript of our conversation as recorded by my brain. Keep in mind this is all actually in Thai, people.

Noodle Lady is on the right. The lady on the left thinks I am HILARIOUS for just existing.

Me: Can I please have noodle soup? Please don’t add meat.

Noodle Lady: Muttermuttermutter don’t add meat. *Points at some thin noodles with a questioning look.*

Me: *Shake my head.*

Noodle Lady: Big noodles?

Me: *Nod my head vigorously!*

After I eat the soup, which had some meat in it,  Noodle Lady comes over to me.

Noodle Lady: Blahblahblah?

Me: *Deer in headlights. What would be appropriate to say here?* Delicious!

Noodle Lady: *Notices I have left the meatballs and other pieces of meat she added.* Blahblahblah?

Me: Ummmm…I….umm….no like! *Realize all of a sudden this could be an insult, then frantically try to gesture that it’s MY stupid farang (white person) fault, not hers.* Ummm…I am….I am person…

Noodle Lady: *Takes pity on me.* You’re a vegetarian?

Me: *Relieved!* Yes! A little! *This makes no sense! But I don’t care!*

I then paid and walked away from the conversation feeling as though my grasp on Thai was such that I should pretty much be able to run the country.

Today I went back and she made the noodles perfectly, with no meat, and I didn’t even have to say anything. However, I totally ruined my street cred by choking on some chili that got stuck in my throat and I was like, No! I like spicy! Crap! I look like a stupid farang again! Insert sad face here.

These noodles were all like, "I'm delicious!" And I was like, "I KNOW, noodles! That's why I'm eating you!"

I provide hours of amusement for the street stall people. When I walked back by later this afternoon, the guy who also works there said, You’re not hungry?! But I don’t care–at least I’m starting to understand when they make jokes about me, and at least I can eat their delicious food with much more minimal effort, and that’s all that matters.

Final Score:

Ordering Noodles at a Street Stall: 0   Megan: 1

I came, I saw, I ate the noodles I ordered. And I’m going back again because now I don’t have to say anything.