Flying Solo

ESL Teaching in Thailand

Lads, it’s been hectic.  I had forgotten how mentally arduous it can be for the new girl, going from autopilot back in Bristol to having to think about absolutely every move I make here – lesson planning added to route planning just to get to the shopping centre and miming around the language barrier every time I want to order dinner.  It’s exhausting…yet thrilling.  Although, I’ve experienced so many ‘dumbass moments’ I’ve lost count, notably getting lost on a Songthaew…again.  I went off for a solo expedition to the Big C, feeling brave now you see with my one-week Thai experience under my belt.  I thought I had it down this time, but yet I still found myself pootling along an unfamiliar part of town.  On the plus side, life looked pretty exciting along the river at dusk, the streetfood carts glowed from the light of the shops and bars that dotted the periphery.  People buzzed about in between the wok wielding cooks by the side of the road, and the smells of skewered meat and stir fried chillies wafted into the songthaew, that chilli can get you right in the throat unless you’re careful!  I’m hoping to build my tolerance of chillies whilst I’m here, they like it burning hot here so I should get in some practise for sure, if the aroma is anything to go by. 

Anyway, there I go talking about food again, let’s get back on track.  So I miss my stop on the songthaew and the driver’s getting a little curious as to whether the bleedin’ farang in the back has any clue of where she is.  He stopped the vehicle and spoke to me in Thai.  Now, I don’t yet speak Thai so I had to hazard a guess that he said something along the lines of, “C’mere burd, what’s the story like?  Are ya getting’ off or wha’?”  I answered in basic English and confused facial expressions, seems I’m becoming fluent in those.  The driver got out and went to find someone to play the game of ‘Find That Farang’.  I demonstrated my streak of independence with a flash of the Google map I had pulled up on my phone and explained where I wanted to go by pointing and repeating the road name my apartment is on.  I realised later that a) I was pointing to the wrong street on the map and b) Thai people (or at least those in NS) don’t use maps and therefore would most probably be confused at having one shoved in their faces.  I could have been pointing at a map of Mars for all anyone knew, even my body language is failing me now.  I have got to get a move on and learn some Thai!  I finally made it home following a conference between about five people manning food carts and other songthaew drivers who pulled over and waited with me on the road until my connecting chariot arrived.  Terribly polite and helpful, but also mortifying to someone who is usually well equipped (with legible maps) for navigation.

My first lesson was looming so I went home and prepped myself for my grand debut as an ESL teacher.  I was to be observed whilst teaching the littlest of the school’s tots, the K1 students.  The teachers I remember most fondly from my early schooling had tidy hair, smelled nice and smiled a lot, so these were the things I made sure to have down to a T.  Equally as important was my lesson plan, packed with games, rhymes, questions, flashcards and props.  This was going to be my visa into ‘Teacherland’ and I was extremely hopeful that these particular immigration officers were going to be welcoming.  Thankfully, the kids co-operated with the newbie.  I’m guessing it’s after puberty that they develop the ability to smell fear and the inclination to take advantage of it.  Luckily for me, they were wonderful and I had a fantastic first experience. 

I spent the week delivering the lessons to the K1s and helping their teacher prep the boys in the class for their 15 minutes of fame on the ‘Yuwapat’s Got Talent’ stage.  They were to perform a fully choreographed rendition of 'The Wheels on the Bus', one of the finer nursery rhymes I think you'll find, a post modern observation of public transport.  On the day they were, of course, hilarious.  One just stood with his arms by his side and stared at the audience of teachers and parents wielding iPads.  The others jumped up and down doing the dance all out of sync.  They were flawless in the classroom rehearsal though, flawless.  You just can't get the talent these days.

Friday night arrived with an insatiable thirst for a celebratory beer, just the one of course.  I went for several (whoops) bottles of ‘Leo’ and some delicious plates of Thai food with some colleagues and met a few more new faces.  That ‘one beer’ ended at 1am with me scaling the stairs of my apartment building.  They switch the elevator off at midnight, which is great during the week when I’d rather not hear the incessant ‘DING!’ of the opening doors, but at the weekend that would be the sweetest sound if it meant I could soar up the six flights rather than crawl up in a beery haze.  Saturday morning brought with it a searing heat, there goes my plan to visit Khao Woranat Banphot, an ancient Buddhist temple located at the top of a hill.  Only accessible by a steep winding road or 450 steps this temple houses a replica of the Buddha’s footprint and a pagoda encasing a relic of the Buddha dating back to the Sukhothai period.  The Sukhothai Kingdom existed from 1238 until 1438 and you can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sukhothai_Kingdom.

Instead of being cultural I decided to go for an iced coffee (didn’t take long to convert me, huh?!) at a nearby bakery that I had found on Johnny Interweb.  The Thongbai Bakery served me a cheesy, hammy, eggy, toasty thing and it was delicious.  A lovely lazy Saturday morning breakfast is a ritual I have brought with me across the continents, it’s far too enjoyable to leave back in Europe.  So I indulged further and brought my book to another café I’d heard of through a new friend here in NS, called Bittersweet.  I had been fantasising about their waffle with blueberry ice cream all week and, heck did it live up to it’s reputation!  I enjoyed half a book with my double breakfast and not one side order of guilt.  That’s one ritual that I’ve gladly left behind.

Following a creative burst in a bid to brighten up my room I went to a local karaoke bar where a new friend was celebrating his birthday in Mariah inspired style.  I turned up stone sober to a karaoke party, waddahell was I thinking??  Despite my crippling shyness making another appearance I had fun and realised I was surrounded by crazy fun hilarious people.  Nice one, just like home.  On Sunday I visited the temple finally, but got my timing slightly skewed.  I mistakenly thought that after a rain shower it would be cool enough to take on the 450 steps…at 14.00…again, seems I’d taken leave of my senses.  I reached the summit a sweaty mess and had to take a seat in the teeny bit of shade I could find atop Khao Kob, 185.5 metres above sea level.  Once I’d mopped my brow (and wrung out my sleeves) I had a little wander about and marvelled at the spectacular views of Nakhon Sawan, which now looked like a teeny model village from the top of the mountain.  There was a man on a microphone speaking in Thai, the only words I could fathom were “Nakhon Sawan” so, call me Sherlock Holmes, I reckon he was talking about the temple’s presence in the city.  

Sitting next to him was a Buddhist monk in his orange robe.  A slight panic came over me.  I had read online and in guidebooks about the etiquette surrounding Buddhist monks and that a monk should not be touched by a woman, although in my blind panic and moment of dehydration having sweated most of my bodily fluid out clambering up the steps I had forgotten the detail and just completely avoided the monk altogether, averting my eyes for fear of causing some unknown insult to the poor chap, so I ended up standing at the top of 450 steps, sweat dripping off me, darting my eyes to the walls of the temple while a dude with a microphone spoke at me in Thai.  Not what I had envisioned for my first expedition to a Buddhist temple in glorious Thailand.  Perhaps I’ll get a second chance, there are tonnes of temples around here and, if I’m lucky, the neighbouring monks won’t discuss the weird sweaty cross eyed farang.

On Monday morning I woke up with aching calves and made my way to the school for my first day flying solo.  We’re in between terms here so the school is conducting ‘Summer School’ for the kids whose parents have chosen to enroll.  We’re building up to Hallowe’en, a holiday the Thai people generally don’t celebrate, so there’s a bit of a role reversal going on at the moment whereby the kids are stunned by the teachers’ excitement at something which seems to make no sense whatsoever.  The teacher’s room is awash with paper witches hats, hand print ghosts, pumpkin collages and the sounds of footsteps practising the choreography being proposed to the students in the final week.  Let’s see what they make of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’!  I’m not sure whether they’ll be on board with the ghosts and goblins we’re pimping but I have no doubt the 'trick or treat' party sweets will go down a storm.  Kids don’t care why they’re getting sweets, so we can have our fun and they’ll get sugar – everybody wins…except the parents who’ll be collecting little ghouls hopped up on M&Ms come 3pm.

Monday ended with a glowing pride having survived my first day of unescorted teaching so I heartily skipped out to the smoothie man’s cart.  I’ve told you all about this dude before, he makes the best smoothies in Nakhon Sawan and it’s evident by the queue lined up nightly at his cart.  A lovely refreshing end to a refreshing first day.  I may have no idea what I’m doing but it certainly beats the hell out of knowing absolutely every move I am about to make, which is how I found myself living back in the UK.  The door to uncertainty is more exciting and liberating than I had thought.  BRING IT ON!

Images: Sinéad Millea

The first weekend

ESL in Thailand 

We’re in the midst of the rainy season here in NS, so my four minute walk to work was a wet one on Friday.  It’s heavy when it comes but it brings a coolness - not a ‘down with the kids’ cool, more ‘ah Jaysus that’s better’ kinda cool.  Not many kids at morning song on account of the rain, all the teachers were buzzing around counting heads and mentally reorganising their lesson plans.  Luckily more and more kids turned up by the end of the morning song and dance session. I’d been watching the dance moves all week and although they’re simple preschool moves, not exactly body popping or anything, my shyness was crippling me and it was starting to get obvious.  I’ve made a pact with myself that next week I’m going to abandon the self consciousness and dance.  First lesson started with a review of the week’s lessons on food vocab, pretend pizza shop with cardboard pizzas for older kids and Hungry Caterpillar story for the teenies, so I was pretty starving by lunchtime with all the talk of food.  Today’s menu was noodles and a coconut based curry with beef – lots of kick in that cow. 

The ESL teachers had a lunchtime Game of Life, that lasted well into the afternoon, which was just as well as there was no afternoon lesson.  The school holds a ‘Yuwapat’s Got Talent’ show each Friday, where the kids get to dress up and perform something they’ve been practising through the week.  Some of my li’l tots performed a song and dance routine.  Two of the little ladies got a bit over excited resulting in one having to run off stage to vom and the other weeing herself.  Rock’n’roll.

In the evening I ventured out solo for the first time to find the riverside market, where anything and everything is sold including fresh fish, meat, vegetables, clothing & housewares.  On my way back stopped off for a visit to the Fairyland Shopping Centre, no actual fairies though, talk about false advertising.  I picked up some essentials in the Tesco, I kid you not, they’re everywhere.  Also spotted a Boots, KFC and finally got to see a real American Dairy Queen like on d’telly.  It’s an ice cream place.  At least if I get homesick I can pick up some fried chicken and ice cream, oh hang on I’m not American.  Any chance of a Bacon and Cabbage shop around here, no?  Got home with a hankering for pizza (those cardboard ones did look tasty).

Breakfast at Mercy

On Saturday I was craving my usual weekend breakfast - eggs, toast and coffee.  I visited Mercy Coffee as it has some western things on it's menu.  'Boiled eggs' were served out of their shell in a cup of hot water, messy and goopy.  The toast was cut into squares with condensed milk poured over, what a discovery, I liked this very much!  I succumbed to an iced coffee for the craic and it was delicious, refreshing in the heat with the caffeine kick.  I was ready for the day so I went shopping again!  I’m hellbent on getting my room cosy and welcoming to come back to.  There’s going to be a day when homesickness kicks in and I want a base to call home here.  That involves comforts like cosy bed covers, framed photos, homely lighting and a fan, by God do I need a fan!  The air-con is apparently very expensive to run where I’m staying.  Mind you, I want to acclimatise to the temperature and humidity here, gotta get used to it before the hot season!  I also needed to get an alarm clock for the 6.30am rises.  Unfortunately my guidebook did not have the phrase for clock, let alone alarm clock so I was left to mime it.  How ridiculous can one look in the middle of a department store?  Well, let me tell you.  I made some tick, tock tick, tock, BRRRRRRRRRing noises to signify 'alarm clock'.  You get it right?  The sales assistant didn’t…or perhaps she enjoyed watching me make a tool of myself.   

Catching the songthaew back was a bit of a challenge with the ol’ language barrier up again but no matter what you’re saying the Thai people here will try their best to understand you, or go find someone who can.  It was very much appreciated and I felt a great deal of empathy for the immigrants in Ireland who end up working in the service industry without a word of English.  I’ve heard many criticisms of people “coming over here, taking jobs and they can’t even speak to their customers!”  Well, here in NS I’m one of “those foreigners” and I am very grateful to the locals here for making me feel more welcome than a lot of the people back home would have if I were African or Polish.  I do intend on learning Thai but right now I’m focusing on navigating my way around and settling into work.  The language will come in time and with practise, and no better place to learn it than right here.  It made me realise that the person selling me my breakfast roll in Centra may probably have the same intentions. 

Saturday evening brought some new faces and a lot of fun.  A colleague held a party at her house with a ‘Minute to Win it’ competition, lots of impossible challenges that make you look ridiculous.  Competitiveness, banter and beer makes a great Saturday.  I came joint last place.  Hey, if you can’t come first then at least come last, right?!  I mean, who ever remembers the ones in the middle.  Can anyone here remember who won fourth place in any Olympic Games?  No?  My point exactly!  After the games and the beer ran dry we took off to a club at the end of the road, called Bon Bon.  This place was like a throwback from the 90s, the music was that kind of 90s dance that infected my eardrums during my latter years at school, only this time I was dancing, must’ve been the vodka….or the Johnny Walker that the Thai men were topping our glasses up with.  The punters in the club took great delight in seeing farangs (white people) and insisted on having their pictures taken with us.  The girls took it in their stride and posed dutifully.  As I mentioned in a previous post, being stared at and being photographed is just all part of life here for a farang, you just get used to it.

Views from the park.

I completely slept through Sunday morning, must have been tired from the week of observing classes…oh wait, no, it was the cocktail of spirits I consumed in the club.  Yep, that’ll do it.  I slept right through the daylight streaming through my window and the non air-conditioned humidity.  I decided to get a wriggle on in the afternoon and went to Nakhon Sawan Park for a wander.  The park is right in the centre of town with a path that follows around the periphery and a lake in the centre.  In the evenings you’ll find people exercising, either running or walking along the path, and on the courts there are sports facilities, ie badminton & boules and even classes such as aerobics, zumba and yoga.  It’s a pretty vibrant place to wander around in the evening time and at 18.00 the National Anthem is played when people stop what they’re doing and freeze like statues.  I imagine it looks like The Angeles on RTE but hopefully less corny.  The whiskey and dancing took it’s toll and left me completely zonked by Sunday evening.  Need to be super perky for those crazy little cuties!

Aerobics at the park

Images: Sinéad Millea

Observing the madness!

ESL teaching in Thailand

In the past, my alarm clock and I have had an agreement, I get to snooze as long as I like and it stays intact.  This agreement has now been terminated - that reminds me, I need a new alarm clock.  Anyhoo, the 06.30 rise in the morning has me flattened, and it’s only been two full days of work so far.  Oh dear.  On the bright side it’s a fun place to be so I’m getting more cheerful in the AM.  Coffee helps.  Can you believe they drink it with ICE in?  Sacrilege!  Whatever the temperature, it’s cappuccino all the way.  At 35 Baht a cup I’m not even missing my Waitrose loyalty card.  Work starts at 07.30 when the teachers prep for their first lesson, then we go to the school yard to play with the kids who, I’m sure, must eat speed for breakfast.  Following a brief greeting and playtime the teachers and students gather to sing English and Thai songs, including the Thai National Anthem.  These little dudes know all the words, as young as two years old.  Reluctantly I have to admit that I am multiples of their age and I cannot get past the first line of mine so already I’m infinitely impressed, and feeling optimistic of their capability...it’s mine I’m doubtful of now!  First lesson is approx 09.00, then another before lunch and one after.  The rest of the afternoon is used to plan lessons. 

I spent my first day at work being introduced to the kids who had a myriad of pronunciations for my name.  I’ll settle with anything as long as they don’t cry or tantrum.  I am yet to receive my tantrum control training…what do you mean it doesn’t exist?!  I observed as one of the more experienced teachers, a young American girl with the patience of a saint, gave her lessons for the day.  I was surprised and relieved at the level of English these little tots have after just six months* of school.  Already they can follow simple instruction, say their names, where they live, the days of the week, numbers, colours and the alphabet including vocab for about half the letters.  I feel a little more at ease now.  I had visions of being surrounded by bored frustrated screaming toddlers who had no idea what I was banging on about.  They’re like sponges and already have mopped up so much English.  At the tail end of the day I left the school feeling all warm and fuzzy at the students’ excitement at meeting me, and I bagged myself a little hug too.

That evening I accepted an invitation to the ‘Big C’ shopping mall, of which there are two in the city.  A colleague who lives in my building wanted to see what route worked best and, the general motto amongst the ESL teachers is “safety in numbers”.  It’s far easier to brave a new part of town with a buddy in tow, not for security issues but for fear of getting lost!  We decided to try out the Songthaews, which are, for all the world, pick up trucks with two benches in the back for passengers.  They operate like buses and are colour coded to signify their route.  But there’s no formal timetable or route map that you can pick up (this ain’t no London Underground!) but at 10 Baht (20p) a trip you can hop on and off and see for yourself.  We found ourselves at the Big C following a confusing journey through rush hour and brought much delight to the High School kids on their way home from school, they even got a chance to practise their English on us!  People here are very eager to help and trade some English for Thai, which will be a great way of learning it when I do attempt to study it.  I’m still working on remembering my four minute long route to work though so bear with me!  After a two hour shopping spree I left, my arms filled with bedding to make the rock hard mattress slightly more comfortable.  If I’m going to be looking after these mini balls of energy I’m going to need a good night’s sleep.  
  

One of the things I’d heard before departing for Thailand was that Thai people stare quite blatantly at farangs (white people) especially in areas that don’t get a high volume of tourists.  In Nakhon Sawan, there aren’t many of us so staring is inevitable, also being yelled at to say hello.  It  probably takes a while to get used to, I’ve been ok with it so far as I had read about it and I know that it’s all in good spirit.  I guess on a bad day, when I’m feeling moody (lack of coffee/sleep/hugs) I might think differently.  Right now the people of Nakhon Sawan have made me feel very welcome so the odd stare and shout here and there is just fine, especially if just to say hi.  How many times has it happened back home that someone I didn’t know wanted to get my attention just to say hello?!  T’would be a shameful world if that was regarded as a bad thing.  So, tired and sweaty from a shopping trip in the humidity I grabbed a Pad Thai from a nearby cart and, blinkin’ hell, it was GOOD!  I’m going to shut up soon about how cheap the food is but for now, the Pad Thai was 30 Baht (60p), just incase you were interested.  Trust me, when I start earning and thinking in Baht I will stop bragging! 

By the second day of observing classes, and jumping in to help out now and again, the kids are becoming more familiar with me and are saying my name unprompted.  There are so many of them though so it will take me longer to learn all their names.  In Thailand people have official long names but also they have nicknames, which are one syllable names that are chosen at birth and may have no significance to their actual name, eg a baby may be called Rain because he/she was born on a rainy day.  As far as I know, it comes from a Buddhist belief that if spirits come for the baby they won’t recognise him/her.  So, all the kids have short names and I’m hoping that will make them easier to remember.  I need to be more wily than those darned spirits!  Otherwise I will gain a reputation for being forgetful and I’ve already got that rep in the west.  In the east I want to be known for something a bit cooler.  I got very close to earning a reputation for being clumsy on my first couple of days, I put it down to temporary jetlag induced dopiness but I’m pretty sure I got away with it.

Tomorrow is Friday, I’m intrigued to see what the weekend will bring.  There has already been a suggestion of drinks on Saturday evening, when all the teachers can hook up.  Some work alternate hours teaching evening and weekend classes so Saturdays are best to catch everyone.  I’m looking forward to meeting everyone and having a relaxing well deserved (even if I do say so myself) drink to celebrate my first week down without being sick, getting bitten by a man eating centipede, getting run over by a Tuk Tuk or making a child cry…well, one but I hear she’s a crier anyway and they don’t count.

* Correction:  The kids start at a pre-kindergarten stage, which is basically like daycare, and complete just the first semester of the year, so at the stage described above they've actually had approx twelve months of schooling.  Still pretty impressive though, huh?

Images: Sinéad Millea

Flying The Nest

TEFL in Thailand

Hello again!  Right, firstly let me apologise for abandoning you (again).  You see, it’s been a hectic year for Sinead Nua but I’m hoping things will settle soon.  I have great news, Sinead Nua has gone global!  I have decided to pack it all in and move to Thailand…as you do…  Here’s the sca so far, go and put the kettle on will ya!

Back in 2004 I moved to England to save lots of those lovely valuable pounds.  Well, we all know why THAT didn’t happen!  It begins with ‘R’ and ends with ‘ecession’.  So I settled into a career and made the lovely city of Bristol my home.  Then in late 2012 the realisation hit that it just simply wasn’t home and if I was to feel temporary somewhere, wouldn’t it be more exciting for it to be the other side of the world?!  So I completed a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) course online and bagged me a qualification.  The job hunt was a longer process, given that I had the whole globe to consider.  In a bid to reduce the options to something less brain scrambling I focused on Asia, but I still felt like a kid in a gigantic sweet shop with a helluva lot more editing down to do!  I settled on Thailand, for no reason other than trusting the ‘aul gut, I’m starting to become more acquainted with my gut feeling and I think we’re becoming friends. 

After three months of applying for jobs, then scouring Google Maps to find where they are,  I secured a job in a Kindergarten in Nakhon Sawan in Central Thailand and spent my remaining three months enjoying the spookily warm summer and amazing free festivals Bristol had to offer (man, gonna miss those!)  After a couple of weeks back in the Emerald Isle I boarded the first flight of my 12 hour journey feeling slightly wistful at saying goodbye to my family and also numb at the thought of my life taking a turn upside down.  The numbness began when I confirmed my decision two months before and remained with me rendering me emotionally stunted.  On the bright side I had no batshit crazy freak outs.  On a couple of occasions I had a few ‘what the hell am I doing?’ moments but I just crammed those down into the recesses of my brain, where I keep useless stuff like wiring plugs and trigonometry.

I was met at Bangkok by my boss who shared tales of his time in Thailand on the three hour journey to Nakhon Sawan.  Prior to the trip I wondered about the bugs, particularly spiders, in my new tropical home and made the fatal error of Googling the subject, big mistake, huge!  I plucked up the courage to face the music on the journey from Bangkok and asked what critters I was likely to meet and heard all about the venomous centipedes.  Well, let’s just say I’m not afraid of spiders anymore.  My new boss spent the first few days driving me around on his motorbike, showing me the city & getting me set up.  Gawd, I barely slept on my first night for fear of this machine (added to the fear of meeting a killer centipede).  I remember getting a lift on my brother’s first bike back in college, a Honda NS1 - I’m talking about the ‘training bra’ of motorbikes here.  I whinged at him for the entire journey to “slow the feck down” but there was no lower speed attainable without coming to a compete stop.  Needless to say, I wrecked his head and vowed never to ride pillion again.  I don’t know whether to put it down to still being emotionally vacant or jetlag but I got on the bike and accepted my fate, whatever it was.  Turns out it was to visit my new school, meet my colleagues and go find a place to live.  Motorbikes are an extremely popular mode of transport in Nakhon Sawan, sometimes ferrying entire families and their pets about.  I’ve already witnessed a family of three including a small child, about three years old, who was standing in between the adults, a sight that would have a westerner onto the social services before one could say, “motorYIKES!”  So, by the end of the afternoon, I had an apartment waiting to become my home and a SIM card in my phone and I started to feel a little more like a local…except that I only know two phrases in Thai and I still have no idea where I am on the map of Nakhon Sawan but I’ll get there!

The view from my hotel room.  Temples, temples, everywhere!

The evening brought with it a welcoming invite to dinner from my colleagues.  I was grateful of the company, having spent the previous night eating takeaway in my room - not so unpleasant as I was pretty jetlagged but the difficulty was in ordering the food with absolutely no Thai!  I just pointed into the street food vendors carts and hoped for the best.  I ended up with a bag of what looked like yum yums and a portion of stir fried pork and rice, tasty and a steal at 35 baht (70p).  Lucky this time, but what if I’m pointing at a cartload of dog or deep fried grasshopper?!  My new colleagues escorted me to a bar just down the road from my hotel where they ordered, in their broken Thai, some beer and delicious plates of food to share, the grand total being just 200 baht (£4) each…and I was told that this was EXPENSIVE!!  I managed to uncurl from my shyness and had some nice conversations and started to feel excited about a new group of friends to go on adventures with.

The second day I had my things collected to be transported to the spang new ‘Chez Sinead Nua’.  Breakfast at a nearby café consisted of chicken and noodles in a coconut curry.  In Thailand, so I’m told, there’s no such thing as a ‘breakfast’ or a ‘dinner’ food, people generally eat the same type of food for each meal.  With a spicy sweat on, I then ventured to the local shopping centre on the back of the mean machine to buy supplies for the new gaff.  I was fortunate to have the assistance of my boss in choosing bits and pieces I would need for my first few days because I drew a total memory block, I would have been surprised if I even remembered my own name.  With so much newness to take in the practical side of my brain shut down, weren’t nothin’ goin’ in or comin’ out!  I picked up a broom and a mop and some other domestic necessities, which got tucked under my arm for the motorcycle ride back to the new apartment.  Already, after just two days, my fear of motorbikes has dissolved – just as well really, with now only one hand to grip on with!  

Moody sky during rainy season

I spent my afternoon unpacking and making my bedsit-like apartment cosy, hopefully for the last time in a while having spent a fortnight living out of a suitcase.  A colleague who lives next door came knocking to say hello and invite me for a walk.  She’s new too so we bravely took on an unfamiliar part of town together - the street that joins this one, baby steps, eh?!  Everything’s incredibly challenging here, so just walking down a new street is progress in settling in.  It’s fairly intimidating to walk around where the language, the food and the customs are all alien.  Now, don’t get me wrong, the language can be learned, the food is amazing if you don’t have specific dietary requirements (Sinead Nua eats anything and everything) and the people are so friendly I have no worries about settling in.  But it’s early days yet so I’ll go easy on myself for now!  This weekend I will be brave and take on an outing, perhaps to Nakhon Sawan Park where there are a host of activities, including yoga, paddle boats on the lake, ceramic painting, gym equipment – not to mention a leisurely walk around the periphery.  And I can reward my courage with a fruit smoothie from the smoothie guy who I have already discovered.  He serves fresh fruit and fresh coconut water blended with ice, super refreshing in the oven hot temperatures of Nakhon Sawan and it comes with a free Thai lesson…! 

Tomorrow, I transform from a tourist to an observer.  I will be observing classes at the school to get a feel of how things are done, a gentle introduction to teaching for me.  I have absolutely no teaching experience whatsoever…apart from teaching the nephew how to play ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’, can I put that on my CV for now?! 

To be continued….

Images: Sinéad Millea

CAKE!!

Teach Me Sugarcraft Cupcake Course

Cake, isn't it a wonderful word?  Just the mention of it sparks excitement and, for a moment, I shelve the notion of abstaining - "Ooh, well if you went to the trouble of baking...".  There's a thin girl crying inside me but she's usually silenced with a cupcake or two. 

I must begin my story with a short prologue.  Now I can bake, don't get me wrong, I can bake a pretty good cake.  It's the decoration that I fail on, massively.  Last time I baked cupcakes I brought them to the office and declared that I had been assisted by blind children in my community.  I understand this was dishonest, getting brownie (pardon the pun) points for doing some imaginary selfless volunteer work.  That's bad, I know.  But, in my defense, I couldn't lose face as someone who had spend 12 years studying and working in the creative industry who can't decorate a bleedin' cupcake.  Don't you understand?!!  Anyway, I attended a cupcake decorating class in an effort to become a little more adept at the old icing and piping.       

The class was run by Teach Me Sugarcraft's Sue. When I arrived, late as usual, I was directed to a room filled with large circular tables populated by ladies, ladies and more ladies...not going to meet my future husband today then.  Sue and her colleagues taught us how to pipe, ice and make quirky designs using icing and some jiggery pokery.  My first attempt at piping ended up looking like it was done in the middle of an earthquake.  

But I carried on practising and, low and behold, I got better.  My latter attempts were pretty darn good, 'twas a shame to eat them, but not impossible!  It's amazing what you can do with a flower shaped icing cutter and some green piped buttercream, hey presto, the Chelsea Flower Show on a cupcake!  My favourites were the 'Cookie Monster' piped in blue icing, some shaped eyes and a mini cookie shoved in his gob and the 'Bumble Bee' using a special piping nozzle to give a grassy effect and some moulded icing to make the bee.  This felt more like a pre-school plastecine session.  How could I have had trouble with this?!  Well, it's all about the tools.  A good cupcake decorator needs a decent set of tools.  What an array you can get, from cutters in all shapes and sizes to special piping nozzles.  Oh, how exciting!  I was getting really stuck into it and had to sedate the urge to buy the lot.

I boxed up my little creations, including the runt of the litter that came first.  (This was my trial run which I 'tested' with a cup of tea and an episode of Family Guy.)  Then came the fear.  Oh bloody eck, I've got a truckload of cupcakes and a diet to consider (yes, there it is again).  So I took the selfless route and donated them to the blind children in my community...

www.teachmesugarcraft.co.uk
Images: Sinéad Millea

Where there’s a Will…

Wills Memorial Building Tour 

I walk past this majestic tower every day and guilty, as we all are, of never looking up in my daily meander I never really SEE it.  So when I spotted a sign advertising a tour I thought, “today’s the day!”

I booked for a Saturday afternoon and begged the sungod to smile on me having heard that on a clear day you can see all the way to Wales (or maybe it was Wells, I’m still finding my way through the strongest of Bristol accents).  Sure enough the sun shone brightly and the view was splendid.  But first there’s a challenge, you don’t just get fantastic panoramic views handed to you on a silver platter you know.  No, you have to climb for them 215 feet above street level.  But fear not, for modern man has invented a magical soaring machine which transcends you to the 5^th floor where a mere 205 steps await you.  Easy peasy.

But first we’ll begin on the ground.  On arriving at the tower, where the students gather to plot their Jägerbomb foraging excursions, I was met with a chap called Dave who runs the tours.  Standing on the original stone slabs and looking up at a spectacular sight of gothic architecture, he summarised the history of the tower in an interesting monologue taking us from it’s commissioning in 1912, through it’s opening in 1925, it’s survival of two world wars and right up to it’s present day status as the third highest structure in Bristol. 

We scaled one of the two grand staircases leading to the first floor, which holds the Great Hall with it’s intricately carved panelled walls, arched gothic ceiling and coloured lighting used to set the mood for the formal events that take place there including graduation ceremonies and exams.  I don’t think I’d have passed a single test sitting there, far too much to gaze at.  Dave handed us over to his son, Jim, who brought a quirky fun aspect to the tour, certainly the best tour guide I've ever encountered.  Never before have I been told if I fell on the stairs I was going over the top, that’s a successful health and safety warning if ever I heard one.  Needless to say, the visitors were too afraid to break that rule.

The next stop was a visit to Great George, the 9.5 tonne bell housed in the tower.  Georgy boy was so excited to see some visitors that he chimed for us.  I’m glad he didn’t ring however, apparently he can be quite loud.  He can be heard as far away as twelve miles I believe, ouch.  In the absence of modern construction equipment during the homing of George, horses were used to hoist him up into the tower in a pulley system that took up all of Park Street - the horses pulled ropes tied to the bell and basically went up and down the hill until the bell was in place.  On the arrival of George to his new home, a spelling mistake in his inscription was pointed out by an observant professor and George had to be lowered slightly to amend it, poor horses.  I’ll let you find out where it is for yourselves!

   
We said goodbye to George and ascended the winding staircase further to the very top of the tower, where a dizzying view opened up before us and, I’m relieved to say, the sungod answered my plea.  A stunning sunny 360 degree view of Bristol certainly brought the wow factor to my Saturday afternoon and made the ascension of the tower so worth it. 

 

The tour costs just £4 per person (£3 for seniors and students, free to children aged 8 – 11) and part of the fee goes towards funding Wallace & Gromit’s Grand Appeal.  A bit of exercise, a history lesson and funding a good cause – that's a Saturday avo well spent!

http://www.bris.ac.uk/university/visit/tower-tours/

http://www.grandappeal.org.uk/

Images: Sinead Millea & http://www.flickr.com/photos/17251154@N00/

A cheeky ‘Klein’ or a robust ‘Taratino’?

Introduction to Wine 

So I’ve been on a break for a while, but I assure you I hadn’t forgotten about you.  I’ve been busily racking up new and wonderful experiences to tell you about.  Go and get the kettle on and I’ll fill you in.  

Where better to start than at a wine tasting, yes another one but this one’s different, honest!  I received a notification on the book of faces to an ‘Introduction to Wine’ run by Tristan Darby of the Bristol Wine School.  They’re not your average school, no exams or detention, just good times and great wine.  I arrived on an average British Saturday, you know the type – schizophrenic weather.  One minute I’m racing against time (running late as usual) in the blazing sunshine, the next I’m looking out through a swirl of grey clouds at a sky that’s threatening to ruin my walk home, bleedin’ weather.  Anyway, to cheer me up there were twelve wines awaiting me…I know, right?!  Sod the weather!

We started off with a little introduction from Tristan, a man in the know but not too eager to shove it in your face.  There’s no pompous gesturing or silly air sucking on these tastings, just practical tips on how to enjoy your wine, the keyword here is ‘enjoy’.  All the wines are tasted ‘blind’ and although my knowledge of wines is as basic as my knowledge of the Inner Hebrides (honestly, I only recently found out they existed) I enjoyed the mystery surrounding the identification of the wines.  Might I point out that, again, I was surprised at what a snob I am.  I mostly enjoyed the new world wines, I really must desist being such a wine snob, no offence Australia!

The morning lent itself to white wines, leading nicely into a glass of fizz, no doubt to celebrate lunch (who doesn’t?) which was included in the cost of the day.  The afternoon brought with it a ray of sunshine and six varying reds, my favourite (yes, all of them)!  We covered so much in the afternoon that the course ran over and Tristan adopted a sped up method of speech, it was like watching ted.com on fast forward and through hazy specs, I guess we can blame the twelve tipples for that.

As I swayed home I pondered if the number of wines had been reduced might we have had the time to cover more interesting facts about each one?  But then again, would I have received such a billy bargain for my bag of silver?  Probably, yes.

http://bristolwineschool.co.uk

Image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/smaku/