Goddess, I Am.

And so dewy Iris flew down from the sky on saffron-colored wings, trailing a thousand different colors across the sun… - From Virgil’s Aeneid

It’s not a secret that I’m not particularly fond of Thais, even if I do live in their country. In fact, I’ve written a derogatory thing or two about them in the past after having observed (and been involved in) some rather unpleasant situations with these people.

Today, however, is one of those days when I will concede that I might have been a bit too harsh on them. Admittedly, after about a year or so in the country, I have, so far, only been exposed to the absolute dregs of Thai society. These are the barely educated, money-grubbing, trouble-making khlongies that one encounters on the street and in public transport, markets, bars, and even in some of the really upscale malls; the very same ones who can barely speak English and have annoying, whiny voices, and manners and odors so bad that I find myself actually physically sick. It’s no surprise that such limited exposure clouded my judgment of the entire Thai populace, leading me to generalize and criticize to no end. Because of that, I apologize.

“Why this change of heart?”, you might wonder. Well, it’s not really so much a change of heart as a perspective that’s been somewhat broadened - an improved awareness, if you may. Today I found myself acquainted with the other side of Thai society, and the experience was more than pleasurable. I met kids so heartbreakingly bright and smart that they actually had potential oozing out of their pores. These are kids who competitively ride horses and hold patents on machinery they invented – all before the age of 18. These are kids who have already achieved great things and are still aspiring for even greater achievements. Yes, these kids are exactly what the people of Thailand should be, and here’s hoping they’ll grow up to be fine, upstanding citizens and turn this place around. For now, I’m just absolutely thrilled that I can help them in the way that I know best.

I am, by no means, in love with Thai people now. I am, however, starting to think that they may not be so bad after all – ‘may’ being the operative word. We’ll see.

We’re looking at a long weekend starting tomorrow here in the Land of (Fake) Smiles. Truth be told, that doesn’t really affect me in the least. After all, my days are pretty much the same every day – a constant holiday or work day, depending on how you look at it. But at least, the boyfriend gets a few much-needed days off.

Naturally, we’re taking advantage of the holiday. Tonight, we’re off to Koh Chang on the eastern gulf of Thailand, and we should get there before sunrise. The last time we were there was back in December when it was nice and sunny. Presently, however, it’s the middle of the monsoon season, so there’s probably going to be some rain. I hope there won’t be too much of it, though. We haven’t been to the beach since we went to Krabi in April, and I’m now looking considerably pale. I could really use the sunshine.

I would probably look forward to the trip even more if I didn’t have to work half the time, but, hey, at least I’m on a lovely island with a fantastic beach. Besides, working on the beach is a hell of a lot better than working cross-legged on the couch and getting cramped knees.

In any case, I’ll be back on Sunday, hopefully tanned, relaxed, and with considerably cheerful – and browner - knees.

Here’s one for laughs. This is the fancy schmancy marble marker of our fancy schmancy condo's fancy schmancy club house.

You’d think they could at least spell check. Who says the Renaissance produced geniuses?

NOTE: This post was inspired by Riva's Thanks to Barok English.

I might have neglected to tell everyone this, but Steve and I had a baby. In fact, we’ve had her for about two months now. Everyone, meet Pepper.

Pepper is a slow loris, a kind of primate common in most Southeast Asian countries. She’s about a foot long from head to rump, has short but soft fur, and big bug eyes that can get her anything she wants. In other words, she takes after her father.

Kidding aside, she was found wandering in an obscure Bangkok soi, obviously lost. They brought her to our old landlord, a man known in the area as a keeper of animals. Seriously, the man has several huge aviaries behind the apartment block we used to live in where he keeps about 30 species of birds, including a beautiful hornbill, guinea fowls, wild ducks and chickens, and several peacocks that seem to breed endlessly. He also has several cobras, Burmese pythons, and huge monitor lizards. All these were caught by the locals and brought to him for safekeeping. Indeed, he’s got quite a zoo out there.

But I digress. Naturally, the landlord took Pepper in and kept her in one of the smaller aviaries. She lives with chickens, doves, and the female peacocks and their chicks before they were moved elsewhere. The first time we saw her, we were in love. We considered settling her in our apartment, and we even went as far as doing the research. Since we lived in a one-room studio, however, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. I, for one, wouldn’t know how to deal with the pooping. The baby is, after all, a wild animal not commonly kept as pets, unlike dogs and cats. Besides, her aviary has trees and foliage and undergrowth where she could forage for food.

The boyfriend, fancying himself the next Steve Irwin, immediately took to his fatherly duties seriously. He has since made two shelters for her out of cardboard boxes and my old pillow where she comfortably sleeps during the day as she’s nocturnal. He’s also taken it upon himself to feed the baby in the cage while I stay outside and coo. He does all this, even when she bit him the first night. She likes cat food, milk, and, her favorite, those deep-fried grubs that they sell on the street.

We have since moved to a new apartment a good 6 kilometers away from the old one, yet we still go there about 3 or 4 times a week to feed her. We’ve actually tried buying grubs wholesale and leaving them with the old landlord’s caretakers with specific instructions to feed her one bag a day. Every time we go there, however, the stash always remains untouched. They can’t seem to get it into their heads that the baby is a carnivore, and she doesn’t like bananas. We assume she’s excellent at foraging because she still seems quite chunky, even when we don’t get to feed her everyday.

We’ve been in touch with the Wild Animal Rescue Foundation of Thailand (WARF), a conservation group that rehabilitate lost and captured slow lorises to introduce them back to the wild. The guy in charge, however, couldn’t come to Bangkok and suggested that we take the baby to Ranong ourselves where the rehab center is based. Unfortunately, Ranong is a long way from Bangkok, and we just don’t have time to do it. Neither does the landlord.

We’re hoping to get around to doing it soon as she really looks quite lonely with only chickens and doves for company. It’ll be good for her to be around her own kind. My only concern is transporting her all the way to Ranong. Slow lorises, after all, are a protected species. If we get caught with her, we might be in some serious trouble. Neither of us can speak Thai to save our lives, so we really won’t be able to effectively explain the situation to a potentially farang-hating policeman.

Here’s hoping that the folks at WARF will still take it upon themselves to come get her in Bangkok, or at least meet us halfway. I’ll keep you all posted.

Since I moved here a year ago, not a day goes by that I don’t read from one blog or another about how intellectually inferior the Thais are from the rest of the world. It’s all good reading, but one can never appreciate the magnitude of such claims until one sees it for herself. A scene that I witnessed earlier this evening is a very good example of the average Thai brain’s, umm, capacity.

On the way to dinner, the boyfriend and I stopped by an ATM kiosk to take out some money. As I waited for the guy ahead of me to finish his transaction, I glanced over at the other ATM where two university students were withdrawing 200 baht. I didn’t think much of it because the guy before me had finished, so I stepped up to the machine and did my thing. Done, I stepped away, and the boyfriend took over.

While waiting for him to finish, I managed to glance over at the other ATM again where the same two university students were clearly struggling with their transaction. Curious, I surreptitiously took a peek at what they were up to. They were still trying to withdraw 200 baht, except that the machine had run out of 100 baht bills, as what was apparent from the on-screen message telling them that it was only dispensing 1,000 baht denominations and asking them to enter another amount. They keyed-in 200 baht again, and naturally, the machine returned with the same error. They did this over and over and over and over and over. And just for the record, the on-screen message was both in English AND Thai, so there could be no doubt about what it was trying to say.

By the time the boyfriend finished his transaction and we were leaving the kiosk, they were still at it. Considering the fact that they were already there while the guy ahead of me started his transaction and they were still there when the boyfriend and I finished ours, I’d say they’ve been going around in circles for almost 10 minutes. And these were university students, as what was obvious from the uniforms they were wearing.

They say two heads are better than one. That seems to be true anywhere but in Thailand where two heads don’t even equal a brain.