A bird pooped on me as I walked under an electric wire. My teacher remarked on it (no hiding the green blot on my white shirt) at my early morning language lesson. He said for Thai people, being bombed in that way counts as good luck. He urged me to take advantage of the omen by playing the lottery.
The secretary at work agreed wholeheartedly, and immediately wanted to know the species. When I told her “pigeon,” she looked it up on a website that assigns numbers to every kind of animal or dream you can imagine. Pigeons turn out to be associated with “66.” She told me to choose a ticket ending with those two digits.
When I didn’t head out the door right away, she sent somebody after me: “I heard about your happy accident this morning, and I’m going out anyway in a few minutes—would you like me to buy that ticket for you?” I think they were both afraid that I wouldn’t really do it, or that I’d wait a day, meaning that some of the luck would have worn off.
So I’m now the proud holder of ticket xxxxxxxxxx66. Not only that, lots of colleagues have told me that they heard about my good fortune, and they plan to piggyback on it by picking the same number. If it gets pulled out of the hat next week on the day of the drawing, you can bet the Thai Audubon Society is going to end up with a big donation!
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
Five-star Service
Jip spent a couple nights in the hospital thanks to low sodium, an old nemesis. This was discouraging to me, because she’d been doing so well physically here, and because I thought we had seen the last of that problem. It didn’t seem to bother her, though. And the care we got at a private hospital in Bangkok was amazing.
It was like an elegant hotel: picture windows looking out on a gorgeous courtyard, body gel and fancy shampoo in the bathroom, delicious food available anytime from an
ala carte menu. For patients’ relatives there was a sink in the room for washing dishes, and high speed internet access in the lobby. Nearly everyone spoke English.
The nurses didn’t wake us up four times per night to take blood pressure. They also hit the vein on the first try, and they seemed to already know what we had told their colleagues on the previous shift. We saw firsthand why “medical tourists” are coming to Thailand for health care.
It turns out that one of our caregivers has worked in several Thai hospitals. So when she showed up to help us check out, she knew a few tricks that helped make things even smoother. Jip now appears to be back to normal. When we got home she was all smiles, ready to start in again on her routine.
It was like an elegant hotel: picture windows looking out on a gorgeous courtyard, body gel and fancy shampoo in the bathroom, delicious food available anytime from an
ala carte menu. For patients’ relatives there was a sink in the room for washing dishes, and high speed internet access in the lobby. Nearly everyone spoke English.The nurses didn’t wake us up four times per night to take blood pressure. They also hit the vein on the first try, and they seemed to already know what we had told their colleagues on the previous shift. We saw firsthand why “medical tourists” are coming to Thailand for health care.
It turns out that one of our caregivers has worked in several Thai hospitals. So when she showed up to help us check out, she knew a few tricks that helped make things even smoother. Jip now appears to be back to normal. When we got home she was all smiles, ready to start in again on her routine.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Back to the Opera
Before we moved here, I did some Googling to discover which of my American addictions I would be able to indulge in Bangkok. While “Bangkok + baseball” yielded nothing promising, “Bangkok + soccer” overwhelmed me with options. The big surprise, though, was “Bangkok + opera.”
I found out that not only does Thailand have a fine opera company, but that it had plans to put on the first opera in Wagner’s Ring cycle, “Das Rheingold.” Recently those plans became reality, and I had a front row balcony seat.
Wagner would have approved. Bangkok Opera is the real deal. The director’s local touches reminded me of the way Seattle Opera’s director made this timeless tale seem like a homegrown product.
The story kicked off with Valkyrie ballerinas dressed in classical Thai gowns. Wotan lived in a Thai-style house. Loge showed up wearing Bermuda shorts and flip flops. Erda had several arms, like a Hindu deity. And when the gods marched up the rainbow bridge at the end, Valhalla looked remarkably like the Bangkok skyline.
The hall was far from sold out (thought the princess showed up again), so it may be tough to convince the board that Bangkok Opera should mount the rest of the cycle. But I can dream. This company has the right stuff.
I found out that not only does Thailand have a fine opera company, but that it had plans to put on the first opera in Wagner’s Ring cycle, “Das Rheingold.” Recently those plans became reality, and I had a front row balcony seat.
Wagner would have approved. Bangkok Opera is the real deal. The director’s local touches reminded me of the way Seattle Opera’s director made this timeless tale seem like a homegrown product.
The story kicked off with Valkyrie ballerinas dressed in classical Thai gowns. Wotan lived in a Thai-style house. Loge showed up wearing Bermuda shorts and flip flops. Erda had several arms, like a Hindu deity. And when the gods marched up the rainbow bridge at the end, Valhalla looked remarkably like the Bangkok skyline.
The hall was far from sold out (thought the princess showed up again), so it may be tough to convince the board that Bangkok Opera should mount the rest of the cycle. But I can dream. This company has the right stuff.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Sport Day
How about this for a fine day on the job: The office is locked. Email is on hold. Everyone meets on the basketball court that is part of the Ministry of Public Health’s sports complex, dressed in one of four different colors. The randomly assigned teams have been meeting at lunch over the previous few days, working out their cheerleading routines.
In between the final rounds of the basketball, chairball, and “futsol” (6-a-side soccer) competitions—badminton, pingpong, and petanque were settled earlier—various party games are quickly pulled together. And we’re not just talking about tug-of-war and egg-in-a-spoon races.
There’s also the contest to see who can assemble a group whose collective weight comes closest to 550kg. Nobody seems to mind stepping on a scale in public and having their weight broadcast to the crowd. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised--people here freely ask about age and salary. They seem surprised when I tell them that Americans routinely lie about all three of these subjects.
Lunch for 200 is catered. The IT department screens a highlight video it has put together from the preliminary rounds. At 4pm, when the dust from the final game has settled, and the last song has been sung, the director presents trophies to each of the teams, thus putting to rest all of the boasting that has preceded this day. Not bad for government work!
(P.S. If you look closely at the photo, you’ll see that my earlier request, for a goal scorer to be sent this way, was answered! Let’s hope I can get a few more for my regular weekend team.)
In between the final rounds of the basketball, chairball, and “futsol” (6-a-side soccer) competitions—badminton, pingpong, and petanque were settled earlier—various party games are quickly pulled together. And we’re not just talking about tug-of-war and egg-in-a-spoon races.
There’s also the contest to see who can assemble a group whose collective weight comes closest to 550kg. Nobody seems to mind stepping on a scale in public and having their weight broadcast to the crowd. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised--people here freely ask about age and salary. They seem surprised when I tell them that Americans routinely lie about all three of these subjects.
Lunch for 200 is catered. The IT department screens a highlight video it has put together from the preliminary rounds. At 4pm, when the dust from the final game has settled, and the last song has been sung, the director presents trophies to each of the teams, thus putting to rest all of the boasting that has preceded this day. Not bad for government work!
(P.S. If you look closely at the photo, you’ll see that my earlier request, for a goal scorer to be sent this way, was answered! Let’s hope I can get a few more for my regular weekend team.)
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