The Raw INFJ: 2-18-14 Another Day In The Life Of A Farang Teacher

     It’s 4:45 PM, I just purchased my Thai iced tea, and I downed about half of it within a minute. Yes, it’s one of those days. My original plan was to stay after school, mark some books, and then come home and read, but after staying after school for merely 10 extra minutes, I broke and just decided to leave.

     Every week has been an uphill battle to learn my kids’ behaviors and fine-tune my teaching methods to fit them. Some days, I feel like I really make a difference with them, and I feel so proud of them and myself for finally making it through. I often smile on those days and come home wondering why I ever felt like giving up or asking myself if I was sure I really wanted to leave Thailand. But most other days, I remember why I feel like I’m just wasting my time and effort, wanting to move elsewhere where I feel like I can have an actual impact on others.

     As unbelievable as it may sound, especially when I go on rants like this, I love my students; I wouldn’t trade them for any of the other classes, even if they behave better than mine. They are adorable, I love their personalities (although a few are questionable), and I really want to help them grow as English language speakers. Maybe my goal for them is too lofty, seeing as my class is completely different from how I first imagined it was going to be. I saw myself--before all this--creating fun learning games all the time for kids that would be eager to learn from me.

     Every time I’ve tried to do something fun though, my students ruin it. Just the other day, I tried to bring in a science experiment to illustrate the concept of sinking and floating. Half of my students just spoke over me when I tried to explain the terms, even as I used simple and broken English and gestured wildly with my hands. The other half kept getting up from their chairs and coming over to drop things into my giant tub of water or sticking their hands in. I yelled, I demanded for them to sit down, I even took the experiment away, and yet they still continued talking over me, standing up, and completely taking advantage of there being something occupying my hands. I ended up shutting off the lights, yelling at everybody to copy down the table I had put on the board, and allowing only a few good students to come up to do the experiment. I found this extremely sad because I really thought they’d enjoy doing something hands-on and would follow directions if they knew they could really get involved.

     That is not an isolated incident. Sadly, it happens almost every day, so I’ve had to rely on worksheets and packets to get them to actually do work. I never wanted to become that type of teacher that screams and throws packets at her students, and I know I wouldn’t be this way in a better-controlled classroom environment. What I walked into, however, was this, and try as I have to fix everything, I honestly can’t do it on my own. My Thai teacher, whose responsibility it is to help me control the students, is so frustrated with them herself that she leaves during my teaching periods. 

     Anyway, today, toward the end of the day, I realized yet again that my students only respond to me letting them work with their friends on worksheets. After working for an hour and a half, I asked for our little cleaning team to clean up the classroom, erasing the whiteboard and sweeping the floors. Two of my boys decided to puncture holes in their water bottle caps and spray the floors with water. Noticing this, I was very angry and told them to clean the floors, but one of them ran around, slipping and sliding with a broom, screaming at the top of his lungs. The other stayed across the classroom from me so I couldn’t grab him and continued to spray water when he thought I wasn’t looking. I was miserable and I knew this would look horrible to my Thai teacher when she returned. I knew I had no control over them, so I took the broom away from the screaming kid and told him to sit in a corner for 10 minutes after school. The other student who refused to help clean up the mess, well, I made him sit down in another corner too. 

     I wish I could say that I handled that the best way possible, but I know for a fact that I didn’t handle that well at all. What I can say though is that I handled it the best I could what with the students ignoring my commands and thinking it hilarious to disobey me. Thankfully, the Thai teacher returned, and like a tattletale brat, I immediately pointed at the two students and tried to mime what happened to her. I was so embarrassed because it happened under my watch, but seriously, I wanted the students to be accountable for their actions more than I cared about how irresponsible I looked as a teacher to her.

     With all that mess taken care of because the students jumped to do her bidding at once, I just slumped down at my desk and tried to get work done. I couldn’t even begin because I was so disappointed in the students and myself. My mind still races to find solutions all the time, but there is pretty much one and a half weeks of school left, and I’m running out of time. I think part of me is just going to stop caring really soon, which means I’ll just let them talk over me as long as they’re seated in the classroom. Well, if they fail, it’s not my fault. 

     I hate being this teacher. I still come to school every day with hope in my eyes, and I feel that every time I leave, I’m disappointed, frustrated, and plain exhausted from trying so hard. I’m definitely glad that I still have some energy left to try, but there’s only so much energy I have left for these particular kids before I’m sucked dry.
     Speaking of being sucked dry, another issue that has arisen is the multitude of mosquitoes taking over our school. Every classroom teacher is battling with them, especially as they like to hide in the kids’ cubbies, the bags the teachers carry to school, and they fly in from the outside when our kids go to the bathroom. It’s disgusting. As I was leaving, I picked up my backpack and literally 20 flew out. Already so frustrated from my students who were basically creating a breeding ground for mosquitoes with all the water they poured on the floors, I can’t even begin to tell you how much stress that added onto my shoulders. Ugh! Tomorrow I will make sure to bring my spray bottle of Off! to school to try to ward them off. 

     But anyway, this is my very quickly-written rant, so I apologize for any strong or hateful messages I may sound like I’m sending. The truth is I don’t hate my students in any way, I still love teaching, and well, I still hate mosquitoes. Not much has changed since I moved to a different country in those areas, but sometimes I just have one of these days and I need to express my frustration while I’m feeling it the strongest. I hope with all my heart that they’ll behave a bit better this next week and a half or so, but I highly doubt they’ll surprise me. I guess I’ll just have to cross my fingers and wish for the best, but if not, a week can’t be that long, right? 

     ...Right?...



***Actually, I forgot to add that my students made me feel a bit bad, but also inspired, by this male substitute that was in my classroom when I had to get my work permit. They asked for him to return for a couple of days after I came back. It reminded me that I needed to up my game as a teacher and be more entertaining. 

However, he subbed for me yesterday and my boys were so bad that his yelling at them was heard through all the walls and down the hallway. Two of my teacher friends actually entered the classroom and offered to pull some of my students out because my sub was livid at them for running and being out of their seats during class.

My students didn't ask for him to return today; one of my girls told me that they all called him mean. Anyway, I'm glad I'm not the only person going through this with my class because I honestly thought it was my fault the kids were acting like this, but apparently it's not. Still, though, I wish I could have some form of control over them. :( ***

The Raw INFJ: 2-16-14--An Unpredictable Future

     This trip has been about traveling, just as much as teaching...if not more. 

     Actually, I take that back. Definitely more.

     The thing that has me putting my proverbial pen to paper is the knowledge that in a little bit more than a month, I will be setting foot back on American soil and I will finally be home. And it hit me that honestly, I just don’t feel ready for that quite yet. 

     Sitting in a bus terminal waiting for a 12-hour bus ride back to Bangkok from one of the northernmost cities of Thailand, Chiang Rai, I feel very nostalgic of all the trips I’ve taken so far in the past few months since I started teaching in a different country. This recent weekend trip proved to be one of the most fun and appeasing; it included some of the most authentic local culture I have seen (in other words, they weren’t “gentrifying” for the sake of tourism) and I was able to proudly cross a few items off my list of things I wanted to see and do in Thailand before I left. 

     I saw my favorite temple in Thailand (and trust me, it’s a daunting task to make a decision, as there are definitely an abundance of beautiful temples to choose from), and although I was at Wat Rong Khun, or the White Temple, for at least half an hour, I still can’t believe I was there. After hopping out of our taxi, I kept looking at the temple, thinking that if I looked elsewhere, it would shimmer like a mirage and disappear. Not even when looking back on my pictures can I believe my eyes beheld something so grandiose, so spectacular, so beautiful.

     I also stood on Thai ground and stared out at the Golden Triangle, meaning that I was as close as physically possible to being in three countries at once. Looking across at Burma/Myanmar and Laos made me feel amazed that a few months ago, I never even knew I could travel to a place that granted me such a view. I remember looking through my Thailand Tour Guide book and thinking that I would never visit any of the places it described because I would be far too busy with teaching to travel. Yet here I am today, with pictures of me in waterfalls, driving a motorbike across mountains, taking night buses to travel across the country, and supporting causes I believe in, like an elephant sanctuary. Wow.

     At the same time as I’m reminiscing about all the sights I’ve seen though, I’m on my phone, casually reading my friends’ status updates and picture posts. Looking at everything on Facebook certainly makes me feel a pang of homesickness, reminding me where I came from and all that I left behind for the time-being. But at the same time, I don’t want to go back and fall into a rhythm just yet. I’m not mentally or emotionally prepared to be back from all the traveling I’ve been doing each weekend to see the same friends and sit around doing the same things. Don’t get me wrong; I love everyone dearly and do really miss them, and I love being my introverted self. But I feel an itch to keep moving, and that itch won’t be satisfied with just one scratch. (I’m sure that analogy was very settling and something you will not want to unsee.)

     I know people can dismiss my thoughts, thinking that I’m running away from reality--as in the necessary career and saving up I’ll need in order to settle down one day soon--or on the opposite end of the spectrum, feel disgruntled that I want more than what I already have...or worst of all, they may believe that I somehow feel that my life is much better than theirs, so I am now all high and mighty because of all my great new experiences. 

     With all my heart though, I feel the need and strong desire to keep chasing after life, reaching for the tendrils of the natural world, for that is what instills the most peacefulness of peace in me. In a sense, I had a taste of living a different life, one that had me literally wanting to keep my eyes open at every waking hour so I wouldn’t miss one breathtaking moment, and I’m not ready to stop. I want more.

     Both this dream and the reality of it nurture my soul and have awakened the strongest feeling of determination and yearning in me yet; the desire feels so heartbreakingly pure and devastatingly raw that my words barely hold a candle to it. It’s like a calling much, much stronger than that first calling that inspired me to be a teacher. Questions, burning for answers, whirl through my mind, asking, Why can’t I? Why can’t I follow my passion and be able to tell people that I am doing exactly what I love?

     Forget the physical aches, forget the language barriers, forget the sweat-stained clothing and smelly shoes covered with who-knows-what that I’ve been wearing for the past 5 months. Despite all that, I want to be free to explore the world, giving myself the opportunity to fill my mind with wonder and allowing myself to learn to my heart’s content. Isn’t this what life is about? To me, it’s about continuing to see new things, breathing in that fresh mountain air, and metaphorically spreading your arms wide everywhere and anywhere you feel like it, opening up your mind, and most importantly, your heart. 

     Unfortunately, the world operates on money, even though I would normally argue like a romantic sap that it runs on love. But although I believe wholeheartedly in compassion and people’s goodness, I can’t deny that you need some form of currency in order to survive. But the way I see it, everyone and everything is constantly paying me. The world and its natural landscapes are one of the greatest of life’s rewards. On a smaller scale but just as great of a daily gift are the smiles I manage to put on people’s faces as I struggle to ask for what I need. Seeing someone use a loom to thread together a scarf that I would not have given a second thought to is a touching treasure and a delicate reminder of everything I should not take for granted all the time. 

     These and every other precious instance like it are invaluable beyond compare, and knowing that there is so much more I’m missing out on fills me with awe and excitement at just how much more I have to see for myself. What people can create, the fascinating lives people choose to live, and what people have the opportunity to see and do on this planet give me an insatiable feeling of longing--almost even a slight desperation to see more, to feel more, and a definite drive to live more.

     These are the thoughts and feelings I have been struggling with every day since returning from my December holiday trip. The yearning is definitely more persistent the closer my departure date to Chicago is. I think I’m beginning to come to terms that I’ll be thinking about this a lot more before I return to America, but even after going back, I’ll also constantly think about where I’ll want to be next or what new prospective opportunities I’ll take by the horns.

     So what will I do when I return? That is a question I’m both excited and scared to find out the answer to because right now, I sincerely have no idea. But in regards to that, I guess I’ll figure that out and know what will be best for me when the time’s ripe. So no, I don't know right now, but I'm sure that life will give me what I need, and well, I'll be waiting with my arms open wide, ready for life's next exciting adventure!

The Raw INFJ: 1-29-14--A Rant About "Home"

A post to let you know what's been going on in my mind:

     As everyone close to me knows, it’s not easy for me to cry in front of people. I’ve always pushed my sadness aside and when people try to comfort me, even if it’s my family, I’ve just been angry, even if all that I really needed and wanted were hugs. I’ve always been sort of stupid with my feelings, not able to express what I really felt and instead trying to feel them on my own by shutting others out. And I still haven’t quite learned how to adequately express myself.

     Here I am, 24 years old, sobbing in my room alone, under the guise that I’m sad only because I’m watching Glee season 5 episode 3 (the one that is a memorial for Finn Hudson/Cory Monteith). In actuality, I have been crying on and off for that 45 minutes because what I saw, since I watched from season 1, was Finn symbolizing goodness and change. Of course, a lot of us can’t say we knew Cory in real life, but I feel that he would have embodied the same spirit, especially to those that knew him. I thought Lea Michele’s song to him would have made me cry the most, but when I saw how everyone grieved in different ways, it was heartbreaking. I cried alongside them because of my own thoughts, but I also cried with them for the loss of something and someone truly great.

     I think, once in a while, everyone needs a really good cry. I know it works somewhat well for me, not so much lately while I’ve been in Thailand, but back at home, it has really worked wonders sometimes. Maybe I would be better off feeling happy around one of my other friends outside, instead of cooped up in my room for around 24 hours, but I think I need to let myself really feel the pain and sadness I’ve been keeping inside.

     Today, I took off a day from work for the first time since I’ve come to Thailand. I usually never skip work unless something big happens, and even then, I regret it during the day. But today, I didn’t regret it at all because what I really needed was to talk to someone who would just listen to me and then talk about random things going on back in Chicago (thanks, sis!). I didn’t need someone to feel sorry for me or to give me advice--I just miss home and I feel like every single time I talk with someone about my problems, I end up feeling worse. It’s gotten to the point where I probably shouldn’t be talking anymore about my problems. I need to work them out by myself and figure out what I want to do and need to do with my life.

     The most general, all-inclusive way to describe what has been tearing me apart is that I don’t know what I want to do at all. This past week, I watched How I Met Your Mother, and one episode really got to me. Marshall called Lily out for hurting him once, so many years ago, and that really resonated with me. I feel super selfish for leaving Ness behind to figure out my own life. I probably needed it to realize I wanted to do more and I want to travel. I haven’t been bitten by a travel bug at all--it’s always been there. It was just never cultivated. But while I am torn on what’s right and what’s wrong, as well as what’s logical and what my heart wants ever since I’ve come here, I’ve also been wrestling with when I should return home. 

     To me, home has always been where the heart is. My heart is at home with my family and friends, and there is never a time when I don’t want to be back there with them. Even when I’m looking at the mountainous roads, the waterfalls, and I’m in my cozy little studio apartment, I want to be home. More accurately, I want my home to be with me. I feel a pang every single time I see Guanyin and I take photos of her for my mom because I know my mom would love being there. When I see wood carvings and intricately-designed little sculptures, I think of buying them for my dad. Even when I have electronics issues, the first person I think about is my dad, even though it’s a simple problem I could solve. The funny thing is that every single time I get a bill that is only $12 in the mail, I think of my parents and of them raising me; I think of all their advice for my credit card, my phone, and my insurance. Those might sound dry and boring, but it really isn’t. For every single one, my parents really know what they’re talking about and just want the best for me, and even though when I go back, I probably will be like, “I know!!!!! I’ve done this all before!”, a big part of me will always appreciate hearing it, and I wish they knew it. Maybe I do sigh and they think that I act like I know everything, but I will always always always love them for helping me in every single way.  All I’ve ever wanted and needed from them was their support, and I am so glad to be getting it from all the way across the world.

     When I watch a show or see something cute that I want to talk about, I think of my sister and me sitting on our beds, me getting annoyed because she’s in my introverted bubble, but loving her for not letting me feel lonely... I don’t know if she knows, but when she’s not there for me talking about everything, I forget that sometimes being alone does make me feel really lonely. Those are two very different feelings, both very real, and being lonely definitely is one of the worst feelings in the world. I know when I return home and I haven’t seen her for nearly a year by July, she’ll get a giant awkward hug from me. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found her the best gifts from Thailand yet, but for the next month that I’m here, I’ll sure be looking because she deserves all the best.

     When I see little cars or talk with my students, or even need to vent about some “adult” problem (and then forget my boundaries), I think of my brother. He may be young and may be a thousand times more extroverted than me, and a lot of times, our interactions are about homework or games, and this is also a giant run-on, but I also love him for being there all the time. He really gets it; sometimes I just need quiet time, so I’ll read, and even though every so often, I’ll look up from my book and wonder WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU STILL SITTING ON THE END OF MY BED TAKING UP SPACE THAT I DON’T EVEN NEED RIGHT NOW, and see him trying to read too. It warms my heart, and I know he really cares. He just cares in a different way I’m used to, but he tries to get to my introverted level, and that’s all that matters. Again, I do get lonely and sad sometimes, and he’ll sit there until I don’t feel angry anymore. He’ll listen to my rants even though half the time, he might not even understand them yet, but he’s amazing for doing just that.

     Everywhere I go, and I know my parents will say I’m lovesick and most recently that he’s my other half (even though I thought they were talking about my salary... I promise, I’m not money-crazy! It was just the conversation flow at that time!), I think of Ness. We’ve had way more arguments than the total amount of months I’ve been in Thailand so far, and they’ve all stemmed from feelings I’ve had before, which have only grown since I’ve left. They all seem to point in what are, to me, nonsensical directions. Again, I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong for me for right now. But after watching that Glee episode, I know what and who I love, and I know that I should work on what I care about. Every single moment I’ve been loving my motorbikes and the journeys I’ve taken on them, I thought about riding on the back of one with Ness. That’s a sacrifice I’d be willing to make if he were here--and I don’t know if you have been reading all my other posts, but I am in love with being the person behind the wheel. When I was atop the waterfalls, I wanted my family there, but I wanted to turn to him to complain about the fish that were nipping me and my clumsiness on the rocks as I slipped every ten seconds or so. When I’m in my studio room alone, I wish he could be sitting there on my bed so I could talk to him about how I’m getting fat and then we could go downstairs to the market together so I could eat some more sugar. 

     I hope he doesn’t think that I enjoy abandoning him because I really do think about him all the time. It has been really hard being away from everyone, and I hope he doesn’t think that I plan on leaving again without any cares or worries. It’s a really big consideration, and I haven’t made any decisions whatsoever yet. I also hope he doesn’t think that I’ve already mentally left in any way because I haven’t. It does stink that I’m making him feel like I don’t care and that the past 5 years really haven’t mattered. I know I am confused and I know that’s frustrating, but especially after watching Glee and HIMYM, both episodes making me cry profusely and very loudly, (my neighbor probably thinks I’m a nutcase if he didn’t already...), I put things into better perspective. I’m still thinking, but I know that behind all the confusion, my heart does belong to certain people. I keep forgetting that because I get distracted, being so far away, but at the end of the day, it still belongs to my family and Ness. 

     I don’t know. There are countless more examples of each and every time I’ve wanted my home to be with me, and it would take pages and days just to describe them all. My blog posts are, in a large part, for me because I have the worst memory ever. One day, I want to look back and laugh at all my silliness and be glad I did what I did. But when I take pictures and write out everything in full-detail, it’s also for my family and Ness. How else can they see what I’ve been seeing, unless I do my best to show them? I want them here, and the next best alternative to them coming and joining me (which I know they can’t just do because they all have their own lives), is to write in a long, exasperating way so that they could partially see what I wish they could be here for.

     Anyway, I miss home. I don’t need to be back in Chicago or anything just to “be home,” but I do miss everyone who I can call home. Even though my heart yearns to continue exploring new places and meeting new people, I don’t know if I can or will do it. I certainly want to, but I still have no clue at all on what my next plans are. I think I will just keep shrugging my shoulders and see what happens.

     I’ll just have to patiently push through the next few weeks of school, and when I return in March, hopefully, I will work things out or things will work out themselves. I hate saying “I don’t know” all the time, and I feel like that’s what I’ve been saying since I got here, but who knows... maybe “I don’t know” can end up being a good thing. In any case, I’ll do my best to count on that.