Welcome to the Main Event

Much like in the US boxing in Thailand has seen better days. In the US, with the exception of a few solid showdowns every year boxing has been pushed aside by the likes of UFC and in general MMA's explosion of popularity. With an all but forgotten about heavy weight division, fans are flocking to the octagon for their blood sport fill. Muay Thai boxing, Thailand's national sport, has suffered a similar fate at the hands of professional wrestling and the growth of interest in foreign sports such as English primer league soccer.

Bastardized and overpriced versions of so called authentic fights can be found at almost every tourist destination. But if you hang around with the some of the older crowd long enough, they will inevitably begin to tell you about the glory days. When Thai boxing wasn't about brute strength and when the boxers needed to master a half dozen techniques that all melded into one beautifully destructive and brutal fighting form. They drop the names of the greats like your grandfather references Marciano, Ali and Frazier, with the sort of by gone nostalgia that horse racing garners where words like "beautiful" don't seem out of place.

My landlord loves to tell me about how great things used to be, how he now rarely watches matches on TV and hasn't been to one in years. I asked him once if he had ever fought, he laughed and popped out a good portion of his lower teeth. His jaw was on the receiving end of an elbow that sent him to the canvas cold.

Below, video proof on just how punishing these little guys can be.

Ong-Bak style

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Nothing but shades scandal edition.

7-11 Helping the Youth

Gorging on the spicy hot dogs, foot long hot dogs, cheese dogs, hot dog salad (yes, this exists) or the bit size hot dog snacks, a throw back to the Al Borland Lil' Smokies time, is one way 7-11 can aid you in changing your body. (The predominance of hot dogs has laid to rest my query into how an Asian man could win the Nathan's Hot Dog eating championship on July 4th for so many years when the product being consumed seemed so American.) The other way this convenience store can help is one of the more ingenious things I have seen my students do.

Upon returning from Christmas break I noticed a number of male students with gauge piercing in their ears. These are the piercings that use plugs to stretch the size of the piercing and are worn by people who are generally labeled as freaks and punks by soccer moms across America who hypocritically take no issue with stuffing silicone bags under their tits or voluntarily breaking their noses or partaking in insane crash diets all of which are far more extreme forms of body modification yet are some how deemed completely acceptable.

I soon realized that 7-11 was, unknowingly, providing the kids with the materials needed for amateur foray into the piercing scene. The small skewers used to eat meatballs and cut up hot dogs was the first size used to stretch after the initial piercing. The skewer is the first step, followed by a gradual increase using the 4 to 5 sizes of straws the 7-11 in Thailand stock until one of the following desired sizes is met. The standard drinking straw given out with every beverage you purchase, literally every beverage, including beer. Then the slightly larger Slurpee straw, the one with the the little spoon at the end for getting the last bits off the bottom, followed larger straws for sucking down the drinks that come with some type of jelly floating in them, these are immensely popular. I think the whole drink and eat, two for one feel has something to do with it.

Originally I was told to enforce the dress code and make students remove their earrings. But after a few days I gave up mostly because I was pretty impressed by the MacGyver thriftiness of the whole thing. The encountered a problem and solved it with a creative solution that fit all of their needs, inexpensive, highly accessible and replaceable, perfect for when their pissed off parents inevitably catch them and toss it out.

'Cause It's Friday...

That is all until Monday, awful internet connections have keep things to a minimum this week. Trying to finish off the semester strong in the next two. Sending you into the weekend with a Motown time capsule. Take it Stevie.

In Unrelated News

Letting Bushwick Bill of Geto Boys fame handle the hype this time and don't let his size fool you. I have a new review of Sun People Remixed by Nickodemus and a slew of other DJs up at over at URB. Click here to check it out.

Frequent Flyer

A fascinating hump day time waster that looks into the truly bizarre world of those obsessed with accumulating frequent flyer miles. 1 million miles, 10 million miles, all of this makes NYC to Bangkok look like a quick morning commute.

If you are looking for the Thailand connection or are just in a rush, skip forward to minute 15 for a scheme that would make Michael, Peter and Samir proud. "Yeah, they did it in Superman III."

Frequent Flyer from Gabriel Leigh on Vimeo.

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Cruising altitude

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all until Monday. Sending you into the weekend with a video 3 for 1, U.S.A. Olympic Team style.

Asked some students and teachers about the start of the Olympics today in an informal poll. They all looked at me quizzically and then insisted that I was talking about Beijing. I guess when it rarely drops below 80 degrees getting excited about the Winter Olympics is difficult. Thailand does have one winter athlete, cross country skier Prawat Nagvajara who is currently a professor of engineering at Drexel University in Pennsylvania and competed in both the 2002 and 2006 Olympics. Unfortunately he is not scheduled to participate in this year's games.

Ice skating sensation Johnny Weir:

"I hope you've brought your silver polish, MacElroy, 'cause that was gold."

The Boss-American Land:



Finally, Al Michaels making the most memorable call in sport's history:

Bonus: Little kid doing Herb Brooks pre-game speech. This may have just become next week's lesson plan:

The Case of the Insect Armageddon

I don't like the soup part of Cup Noodles. I guess it could all be considered soup, but the liquid part, the broth to me more specific, I don't care for. For one it is always extremely hot and I gulp down in an overzealous fit of hunger, every time searing my mouth leaving most food flavorless and the inside of my mouth a sand paper texture for the next few days. I also don't like the mess. Really I'm to blame for the mess, but the broth being present gives the opportunity for mess, puts the element in place. Removing this element ensures a much less sloppy dining experience, devoid of slurping and spillage. I like dry, simple food.

I usually dump the broth down a nearby sink but outside the 7-11 there is no drain. So I walk around to the side of the building, past a picnic area and dispose of the steaming, sodium bath in the grass near a tree. I turn and spot my boss and a student at a table and join them.

I click together the collapsible fork from 7-11, an invention that saves maybe 3 inches of space. It's a fork for eating microwavable noodles at a gas station. I don't plan on trekking up Everest with it, so the entire thing seems like gross overkill.

I'm preparing to shovel down my first bite when I'm stopped.

"That is the second thing you killed today," says my boss.

"Um, what?" I have trouble using the phrase "Excuse me?" here or back home. It sounds uppity when it comes off my tongue, jarring and unfamiliar.

"First you kill the ants, now you kill the tree," she says.

I glance at the tree. It looks fine. Green, full of leaves, lush. Thriving even. I look back at my boss, than back at the tree expecting to see it crashing to the ground, erupting into flames or shriveling into the Earth. It stays unchanged. Green, full of leaves, lush.

"You poured boiling water on the tree. Now it dies," she appears to be serious.

I'm not quite sure what to say. I rack my brain trying to think if I have ever heard of trees being harmed by water temperature. No? Yes? No, not a chance? Right? They can withstand below freezing temps and sweltering summers. Maybe Thai trees are different? Maybe I did just kill one? My momentary panic subsides as I refocus on how ridiculous this statement is. No fucking way I just fell a solid tree with less than a cup of not quite boiling, not quite water liquid.

"I think the tree will be fine. I honestly don't think there is any way that is going to harm it," realizing the absurdity of the whole thing, I'm now trying not to laugh.

"You killed the ants on the bus," her come back is quick.

Now that the tree homicide seems have been accepted as fictitious the attention has shifted to the ants.

She turns to the student next to her and rapid fire, machine gun Thai erupts. She holds her hands in the air, mashing her thumbs down as if playing with an invisible video game remote. She grits her teeth and lets out a strenuous "Arggh." I realize she is doing an impression of me. I realize it's fairly accurate. I realize I'm guilty of the ant murders, many of them, maybe hundreds.

Buddhism, particularly the Theravada school, makes up almost 95% of the religious population in Thailand. The predominance means that while living in Thailand Buddhism is almost inescapable. Monks in saffron robes, gilded temples, smoldering incense. It touches all senses daily and heavily influences the lives of Thai people.

The first of the five precepts of Buddhism states that one should abstain from killing. This extends far beyond human life down to the smallest of creatures. Insects, even ants, do not think like humans but can suffer in the same manner. There is also the issue of rebirth, which in an oversimplified explanation, means that animals could be our past relatives.

A few hours before this confrontation, I was sitting on a bus for a school trip. We had just re-boarded after one of the frequent stops and I found that an open packet of teriyaki sauce from some chips I had purchased had been infested with ants. The sauce comes, conveniently, with every bag of these particular chips and adds a little extra flavor to a food whose real down fall is its Styrofoam, teeth squeaking texture.

Upon seeing this my reaction was made up two parts.

First, Rod Tidwell. "I got ants Jerry!" What I believe to be a perfectly executed movie quote goes, understandably, unnoticed by all of my Thai students and fellow teachers.

Second, kill. I pick up the packet and begin to crush ants. I'm suddenly shot back in time. I'm an adolescent youth torching bugs with a magnifying glass at Adam Miley's house, a BB gun wielding pre-teen trying to pick off birds in the woods of Maine.

They are trapped inside the clear plastic, no way out. I'm playing God and I'm not a merciful one. Take no prisoners. They can run, they will simply die tired.

I have no idea my seat at the front of the bus and the height at which I'm holding the tiny bag has made this Formicidae slaughter visible to many people behind me including my boss. I can only imagine the look of sheer terror on her face, her attempts to shield the students' eyes from my blood lust as I smash the life out of what very well could be their favorite auntie or uncle.

Back at the table I try to defend my actions. I tell her the ants were biting me (lie), that it was a variable war zone (wild exaggeration), none of it helps.

"Ant killer." The dubious title instantly becomes a favorite of the students, who are almost all now doing impressions of me. Many more than I thought saw the incident.

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

U.S.A. Olympic edition.

Nakhon Sawan

Home to some of the friendliest people in Thailand, Midwestern friendly.

Wat Kiri Wong

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all from a slow week here in Phitsanulok. Sending you into the weekend with The Boss.

Senior Slump

Things in the 65000 have been crawling along this week. The seniors I teach have effectively mailed it in. Almost all have been accepted to university and showing up is a formality at this point. Of the 40 students in my class 4 showed up on time Wednesday, a few other trickled in over the course of the period, some arriving just as I walked out the door. Do I blame them? Not at all, I did the exact same thing.

I dragged my way through Susan Fetter's habitually depressing calculus class that centered as much around math as it did her painfully awkward tales of romantic failure that lead to her current state as a loveless virgin rabbit keeper with a hobby of sewing clothes from their fur and Dean Pappas' physics hour laden with his political rants, conspiracy theories and anti-government tirades.

School was just a place to find out what was happening the following night or weekend, see who was collecting money for an overpriced beer run and talk about how much better next year was going to be.

I imagine my students are doing much of the same and now I'm the teacher they can't stand.

The free time here has had some positives. For one I came across these photos of the Erawan Waterfalls, which I visited a few months ago, made even more beautiful with the addition of Tom Selleck and some delicious looking sandwiches. Sandwiches probably rank in my top 5 most missed things from home, Tom Selleck not so much.