greeting

hi secton 3

section 2

nice to meet you ALL




Cheers,
aj

cry for you

fly

Eng101

to my students

everytime
you touch me
i become
a hero...


a reward,
at the end of the day,

lesson after lesson

when you're in heaven

at this moment,
to my brother,

wish you were here,
your sis.

a note of the day

thankful notes
in
her eyes
oasis
in
a dissert

a nomad
in
English sphere

a cute voice
about
her princy dreams

behind my gmail

our yesterday

their yellow hearts
other red paths
a long road of freedom
seperates us

drift
at the edge of sorrow

gone is the frienship,

this moment

push the days
pull the nights
a green butterfly
on a wing of my dreams
exhausting,

in the middle of a hot day,
after class

give me a break,

please

sit and silent

a small girl in WU.
I learn good English
but not good speaker.
shy and fear.
I’m not confident,
sometimes sit and silent.
It help me safe.

a little voice from one of my students
edited from her narrative

my student's dream

Road of my dream

i ask myself. why i walk alone in this road?
why i must study hard?
i don't know, what am i doing? i don't know, who am i?

i close my eyes. i saw my dad, he smile to me.
i saw my mom, she say love with me.
they are waiting for me.

i found the answer. this road is the road of my dream.
i know, i have to go to my dream. i found the answer,
why i walk in this road. Because this road is the road
of my dream.

i look at the road
someone walk slowly
someone run quickly.
but they want the same thing.
that is destination.
that is their dream.

written and sung incredibly great by one of my students, English freshmen.
may:14:09

when you believe in you

Flying high
In turquoise sky
Hold hands
with the prince
Dreamy day

in yesterday writing workshop, i showed students the power of imagination
and told them that everyone could be a creative writer
...if they're honest with their feelings, any feelings.

in the end, each student composed a sweet song, resonating their ultimate dreams
some danced crazy steps

in that afternoon, the sky welcomed many freshy stars.

my idol

I came back to school in the middle of the 3d semester. My school applies a quarter academic system. It thus seems normal to feel real hectic here! It took me a while to catch up things in addition to getting shocked with some little things in my home turf. Sometimes I wonder if I return to the same country where I am so proud of.

With a business background, I found it a bit intimidating for the first time I walked into my first English classroom. With luck, I however survived the first semester. On a positive note, marketing experiences helped me see space to play with language and teaching. I think i am fortunate to bring some different perspectives to classrooms. Funny enough, sometimes i asked myself while i was teaching, 'am i teaching English or business'?

Next semester, I'm going to have a concert--to teach a fundamental English course to a huge class. I have no idea what my show with 300 students will be like. My first trick seems like i have to pack theories i have learned back into my suitcase. Instead, i need to contextualize lesson plans as much as i can. The world has changed a lot in terms of English communication and its input. In other words, English is almost everywhere. Yet it's really crucial to not expect the students here to be capable like CU or TU English major students. However, the students, i do believe, have a potential if we teachers do help. We just need to work harder(and pray louder) to foster these folks. Without a doubt, to be an English teacher in a countryside campus is really challenging.

At the end of the day, I just keep telling myself that my very first humble mission is to create a southern idol, not the Thailand one.

my old neighbor

My room, provided by my school, is on a second floor. Looking from here, I can see a wooden old house situated a block away from my room. Standing alone among the school aparments, the house is hugged by wild mango and coconut trees. I thought one day I would walk down there and asked owners to have a bite of a raw mango. It must be yummy.

I didn’t realize until a week ago that folks living in the house do not have electricity. What about tap water? I didn’t think they do.

One Sunday morning, I was up at the crack of dawn. Zipping coffee at a back porch, I smelled that morning in a different way. At the dim corner of the house, I saw an old woman smoking a palm leave cigarette, leaning to her radio, gazing stars in the haze of cloud.

Then from that morning on, I was used to that same picture with the same smell. Sometimes I saw the woman light up a lamp, talking with a young man who might be her son inside the house. Some day I heard a country song from her radio.

This house belongs to a resident who is one of many supposed to move out of this village to a new land supported by the school 16 years ago.

The decision for these folks not to move out of their ancestor’s land might show a sign of resistance to the academic community. However, I don’t think it’s their fault to hang in there—where they call it home.

Like its owner, the house, a part of my new life here, is aging while the school is growing.

The school of life is rough. The fight of those in that house is on going…and seems never end.

a doggie tale

My nephew has 2 puppies--zaza & toto. Zaza, a naughty girl and the queen of the house, is an American Shepherd. The first day we met, Zaza jumped high on me and acted like we knew each other for a decade. She might sense doggie smell (with US$) on my skin (haha). Zaza is only 6 months old but her size is huge already. This puppy reminds me of Sammi, Colleen’s prince and McGragor, my soccor play mate in this picture.

I'm not sure what kind of dog Toto is. The first time I saw him I just felt like, 'oh. Boy, you look so sad'. His face, his eyes said everything. He's a kidney problem. My nephew looked after him the best he could. He spent (for those who hate dog, they might say Toto sucked money) lots of money to save his puppy. Toto loved eating mango and sleeping under my mom’s bed (the coolest spot in the house). Doggie is smart.

Toto just died 2 weeks ago. He broke many people's hearts—his owners, his Vet (according to my nephew, Toto's doctor is cute. Another inspiration for my nephew to tour her office, I guess).

The house was empty without Toto. Zaza became a new puppie, walking and sniffing everything around the house to search for her long gone buddy. For a week she didn’t touch her food; her eyes were sad; her tail was sadder.

At night, the puppy now sleeps in my nephew’s bedroom. Kids come to play with her, curing her lonliness. She has become the queen of the village.


Two days ago I could see a smile in her eyes. The tail started to wiggle again. who know, in her heart, she might not feel the same.

miss you, mom

A missing line

April breeze
Rubber tree leave
Rest on the muddy path
Alone

A bloody bullet
Stabbed in a pale body
A trunk on a truck
Cold

Your land or my land
Same old story
From my mom

Say good bye to fading memory

a weary afternoon

A new chapter of Thai history is added. Bangkok was Iraq yesterday and will be that way from that moment when the red shirted protesters turned buses to be their weapons, rampaged their motherland with disgust, stormed fear all over streets.

In this IT age, we're fortunate to see people kill others and get killed on Live TVs networks. No media seemed to care to save lives but produce a nice shot from their cameras, capturing these mobs acted like a malfuntioned robot.

Don't know how to explain what has been going on. The situation turns out to be too complex for the pale government to fix.

My brother was in his apartment not so far from the riot areas. I called him a few times to ensure he's safe. My brother joined the communist party and lived in a jungle for 4 years during Thailand Uprising 1976. So he seems to understand the whole situation well and does not overworry. He told me many stories during my 6 years absence. On that note, he said this day would come, and it did come.

So, what goes around does come around, as the old saying goes.

Today we're paying a high price for a society where its members have been taught to yearn for democracy--somebody’s system.

A little voice from a war zone,
On a weary afternoon,

a new beginning

a parade of toy guns
prepared to entertain farang guests
with a heavy wallet

the crack of dawn
a tank stormed
a marching band

lives dropped like summer leaves
before the smoke
died down


the party of hatred was celebrated
on a new year day
in the land of (once called) smile

bangkok
april 13, 2009