The NESA (Near-East-South-Asia) Schools conference was huge. Hundreds of teachers from all over the Middle East and beyond converged on Bangkok for four days of PAR-TAY! Boy, those teachers know how to cut loose. During one particularly raucous session people actually stopped raising their hands! Everyone just blurted things out. Luckily the speaker knew how to get the attention of a room full of motor mouths by clapping her hands in a simple rhythm. Soon all of the delegates were repeating her enchanting beat. Now that’s a trick worthy of applause!
The Saturday Night Gala was the highlight as it gave delegates the opportunity to share their experience of the previous workshops with innovative colleagues and to drink for free. After a few Mai Tais and Singha Beers the dancing started and couldn’t be stopped. The DJ was well stocked with every wedding song from the seventies and eighties and replayed the more popular ones three times. Even after two “Labambas” and an “Electric Slide” people chanted for more. But the “Ketchup Song” proved too new fangled for this seasoned crowd so the DJ pulled the plug half way through and replaced it with “Louis, Louie”. It was a good time for everyone as the older than 40 crowd boogied their shoes off and the under 40 crowd left by 9:30 to go downtown and the red-light district.
That’s right. Bangkok has a seedy side. I had always heard about this from sailors and slave traders, but I never thought it actually existed. I considered wearing a condom just to use the subway, but thought better of it and decided not to use the subway at all. The entertainment industry has taken a wrong turn here so don’t expect any Vegas Style shows. Although the women do “magic” they’re not exactly pulling rabbits out of their hats. Most of the tricks would make an Oby-Gn gag. Veteran plumbers have pulled less scary things out of pipes than these women were pulling out of theirs. If you were the type to faint during the birth scene of “Miracle of Life” in tenth grade biology, then these are not the shows for you. On the other hand, if you prefer your bananas warm, mushy and flying through the air at high velocity then buckle your seatbelts!
I left Bangkok feeling empty because I hadn’t seen the Grand Palace or numerous temples and because I slept through breakfast nursing a hangover. But I did get a marvelous view of the smog-enshrined airport as my flight to Phuket took off. (Before we proceed I must share some pronunciation with you that I wish someone had shared with me before I got to the check-in counter. The “ph” is pronounced as a “p” sound, not the “f” sound you might be familiar with. I learned that little phonics lesson the hard way!)
I boarded a boat for four days of diving off the western coast. We cruised to the Similan and Surin islands and ate Thai food and dove four times a day. I saw sharks and coral and colorful fish and even an octopus change from gray to white to black right in front of me. Between dives I slept, read, napped, read, snoozed, read and dozed. It was quite relaxing. I met up with some friends at the end of the week and spent two days recuperating on the beach and getting massages.
On the way back to Beirut we had a nine-hour layover in Kuwait. Luckily they were daytime hours so we were able to leave the terminal and do a little sight seeing. First we argued with the transfer desk about getting a hotel room. The airline is obligated to put us up because the layover is so long, but they wanted to charge some of us for that privilege. Then we argued with the desk clerk because she was making the girls share rooms, but not the boys. Then we argued with the shuttle bus operator to get him to take us back to the terminal. Then more arguing with the transfer desk about pulling our luggage aside and re-issuing our boarding passes. At last we were able to argue with the passport control officer who then led us to immigration so that we could argue with them. This became a protracted argument as one member of our party was Canadian and had to pay for a tourist visa. Another member of our party had lived here until she was eleven years old and the officer was confused at how tall she was. A third member of our party had actually worked here as an intern for a summer and the government computers had her listed as a male. This led to more confusion and, not surprisingly, more arguing.
Finally, we had our papers stamped and were prepared to argue with the passport control officer again, but oddly, there was no one on duty and we were allowed to walk right through. Even customs was a simple formality and the officer actually laughed with us. So we left the terminal and entered the arrivals hall with just under forty-five minutes left to get to our departure gate. A couple adventurous souls braved the elements and caught a taxi for a quick cruise around town. (It was raining. The only day of rain this country has seen. Ever.) Others visited the Body Shop, KFC, Burger King, Timberland, Nike and two Starbucks in the arrivals hall. Nothing says “I love Kuwait” more than a mocha latte at the airport!
I’m back home and back on the job. Refreshed and revitalized to shape
the young minds of tomorrow. I know this euphoric sensation won’t last
though. I think nine hours of arguing completely wiped out two weeks of
bliss. I would recommend Thailand to anyone. Just don’t fly through
Kuwait.