1975  Back to Thailand

After two years in Indonesia, my father's job was transferred back to Thailand, where I was born.  We were enrolled at Bangkok Patana School, where I experienced school uniforms for the first time.  We were only in Thailand for one year, and therefore I don't have as many memories as Indonesia.  I do remember though that one night someone was banging on our door, and after inquiring, my dad scrambled us all out of bed.  We were only allowed to take one toy, and then quickly get into the car.  Our neighbor's house was in flames, and we needed to evacuate.  I remember being in an urgent dilemma.  I was eight years old, and I had to choose which one of my favorite stuffed animals could go with me.  That was very difficult.  I chose Mutley, my large black and white Snoopy dog, and obeyed my father promptly.  We spent a long night at our Danish friend Hilka's house.  She is the friend that had a swimming pool and introduced us to lemon meringue pie.  We were not allowed to eat sweets growing up, and my parents were strict enforcers of that.  But we got to have lemon meringue pie at Hilka's house, oh, it was like a piece of Heaven.

Another time, we were dog sitting Hilka's pregnant poodle, when she suddenly gave birth to four adorable puppies.  I watched the whole birthing process, and it was amazing.  As an adult, I have allowed my own children to experience our cats having kittens three different times.  Unfortunately, the last puppy, also the runt, could not breathe, so I quickly fetched a straw and blew into his tiny mouth with the straw, and brought life back to him.  As a thank you, we were allowed to keep the runt puppy, which of course became our favorite.  We named him Ludde, a typical Swedish name for a dog.  And anyone who has ever had a puppy will relate to the massive work involved with night crying and morning clean ups.  But we loved Ludde of course.

At school we had Show and Tell, and I brought in a large cow's vertebrate, that I had found in the yard, from one of our other dogs.  I thought it looked exactly like a dinosaur bone, so of course that is what I said it was.  All the students believed me, and I became quite popular for my stories.

In Thailand it rains quite a bit during the monsoon season, and one month it rained so much that our yard flooded.  My brother and I took out our rubber raft and floated around in our yard.  We caught cat fish that had managed to escape from the fish market, and ventured all the way down the flooded streets and into our yard.  I am sure we must have had a bar-be-Que that night.

At school, I had to go to reading tutoring with a selected group of "struggling" readers, and following our remedial reading passages, our tutor would read to us from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."  Oh I loved hearing her read to us everyday.  I don't think my English comprehension was so good at the time, because I never really quite understood the point of the story until I saw it as a play as an adult.  And then add to the fact that I was never allowed to eat chocolate or candy for that matter as a child, I didn't really know what wonderful treat I was missing.  Then as a teen I snuck into my room with a large chocolate bar, and ate it in secrecy, as if it was a huge crime.

In the mornings our teacher would take the lunch order and milk orders for the day.  The three choices were chocolate milk, strawberry milk, and regular milk.  I was not allowed to have anything but regular milk.  So everyday, I would announce my order that I was having regular milk.  But oh I dreamt of that strawberry milk.  One day I could stand it no longer, and I announced that I was having strawberry milk.  My teacher was rather surprised, since that had never happened before.  So during lunch time, I drank my wonderful strawberry milk, but quickly got a stomach ache from all the guilt associated with my deceptive purchase.  And of course, my mother found out somehow, and I was back to regular milk.

I was usually not the kid that got into trouble, my eldest brother could take credit for all that.  However, as an eight year old, I seemed to follow the crowd, and before I knew it, I was caught in a mess.  A few of us decided to climb up the vines and go on the roof of the restrooms.  The principal saw me and brought me to the office.  There I had to wait for my parents to pick me up.  It was the longest wait, and I was devastated.  My brother on the other hand just laughed and thought it was funny.

As I sit here by the computer and reflect back on my life, trying to remember the details of Thailand, I smile.  I was a child with a vivid imagination.  I pretended all the time.  I wrote stories all the time.  I am now a teacher, and my love for pretend in my teaching makes our days wonderful.  When we study history, we go back in time, and take on the roles of the past.  Our school building has been everything from a large ship, to a skyscraper and we are on the 14th floor, and the back packs are our parachutes, because the elevator is broken.  Or our classroom has been one of the thirteen colonies and we have declared our independence from our principal, also known as the King of England.  Our hallways have been transformed to the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, and we have charged taxes for the passengers that pass through to get to the drinking fountain, with out classroom economy.  One time we invaded the other fifth grade teacher's room as we were Sir Francis Drake and his ship, robbing the Spanish of their gold, and taking the other classroom's class money.  We have used the street between the elementary campus and the secondary campus as an imaginary river, whereby we were slaves escaping to the north during the Civil War.  Our bearded custodian became General Robert E. Lee and another teacher was quickly Christened General Grant, and the peace treaty was signed before our eyes.  This year with the 100th anniversary of Titanic, my students each were given the names of a real Titanic passenger, and they had to live out that role for a whole week, while we pretended our school was the Titanic ship in 1912.  By the end of the week, they found out if their passenger survived or died, and we had a small memorial service in the classroom.  I became a British lady Mrs. Turpin during a whole week, with an accent and clothing of the 1912's.

Next time I write, my family will move to Papua New Guinea, and the year will be late 1975.