The Journey For My Visa

September 26, 2011

Getting my visa was a very confusing part of my preparation process for Thailand. What is a visa anyways? The only form of a visa I knew about before this trip was the credit card. I guess every time I have traveled or studied abroad (blonde or brunette?...yes I know, I always walk myself into that one), my parents would help get my visa. So this time I was on my own and had to get a Thai visa by myself. Beware! If you don’t want to get bored with overwhelming information about visas and unnecessarily detailed incidents I forced into my post to make my visa experience seem more exciting, then stop reading. Most of it is probably made up anyways.

Visa Information—

Learning about a visa was a bit difficult. It probably didn’t help as I tried researching information about Thai visas using the credible sites of Wikipedia and the Thai Embassy’s official site, which I was only able to view in Thai. So obviously my knowledge of visas was superficial and maybe a bit skewed since all I have learned in Thai is “hello” (Sawatdee Ka) and “thank you” (Kob  Khun Ka). After tedious research and my persistent pestering of the ATI program director through online chat, I figured the visa I needed to get would be the non-immigrant B visa. This visa would allow me to work legally in Thailand for 6 months to a year but it was pretty expensive (about $200).

But of course, I ran into a problem. The non-immigrant B visa requires a Thai working permit, which the ATI program is not able to give me until I am actually in Thailand. So my next option would be to get a tourist visa. When visiting Thailand on vacation, the government allows you to stay in the country for 30 days before you would need to purchase a visa like the tourist visa. The tourist visa would allow me to stay in the country for 60 days but prohibits me from working in the country. Since it was still uncertain when I will receive my working permit, it would be better to get the tourist visa to ensure that I can stay in the country longer than 15 days if needed. I figured that I would be training in Bangkok for the first month so it wouldn’t be a big deal to not have my non-immigrant B visa right away.

In order to transfer my tourist visa into non-immigrant B visa, I would go on a visa run (which is the most exciting part of this process I believe!). This means that I am required to “run” into another country nearby in order for my visa to expire and transfer into a long term visa (with an additional cost of course!). Because there needs to be time to process the visa, many times it is necessary for you to stay in the other country for a couple of days. So I’m excited. I have my pick of Cambodia, Laos, Malaysia, and Burma since they are neighboring countries. Though, I will most likely go to Cambodia since it is the closest country to travel to from Bangkok.

After learning about all this, I knew that the tourist visa would be the visa I needed to get before entering the country. But I also had a very short deadline to get this visa since all visa prices were to be raised 30% more by the beginning of October. When getting a visa from an embassy, it can be a bit frustrating. The embassy (or consulate) is only located in big cities. And there is only one Thai Consulate in California—downtown Los Angeles. I think there may be one in San Francisco but I couldn’t find it. It also takes time to process a visa application. If mailed in (which most people do if they don’t live close to the consulate), it can take weeks to process the application and you have to surrender your passport (with the hopes that the postal service won’t lose it). Or you can walk in to the consulate and it would only take a day to process your visa. You also need specific materials to receive a visa: your passport, a copy of your passport, plane information (required for some visas), a previously filled out application (key phrase: previously filled), 2 copies of a passport picture, and a money order or cashier’s check of the specific amount owed.

The Trip—

Despite the severe animosity I have towards Los Angeles, I decided to travel to the consulate so I would get my visa and passport back sooner. My friend Lacey and I traveled to the most vile and torrid valley of LA—Reseda, in order to visit Reseda’s infamous Lull Street Boys (a homo-erotic boy group whose party habits consist of singing Lion King love songs, consuming a profuse amount of watered-down beer and plastic bottled liquor, and wearing horse masks as a form of sexual play).  After a fun and alcohol- and possibly GHB-infested (jk) weekend with the Lull boys, Lacey and I traveled to the Thai Consulate on our way back home from Reseda. I had a time restraint though. The consulate was only available for visa applications at 9 in the morning, which posed a slight problem since I had to be at work at 11 that same morning. I didn’t know if the consulate had the same chaotic structure as a typical DMV in the US, in which you may have to wait in line for a couple of hours before even speaking to a representative. This was enough uncertainty to cause me stress.

As we tried to be there once the consulate opened, the traffic from Reseda to Downtown LA took forever. We tried to make things as happy as possible as we found our indie coffee shop, created my bucket list for Thailand, and observed individuals scowling in their cars. Have you ever noticed how angry people look in their cars, particularly in traffic? Most people might find it pretty reasonable for people to be angry in traffic.  But it is a lot of energy wasted on such a surface level notion. Of course, I’ve had my road rage moments in the past and currently. But there is a simple solution: just don’t live in Los Angeles. LA seems to spawn angry and impatient (yet creative) people. Lacey and I still don’t understand why anyone would want to move to LA. Why?

After an hour of stop and go traffic, we finally found the Thai Consulate. As I ran into the building, Lacey helped take Ruby, my vomit-smelling dog, on a walk. Unfortunately, my dog always has a terrible time in the car. Every time I have driven her for a period of 30 minutes or longer, she gets car sick. She actually has the power of projectile vomiting, mainly when in the car (which is also my excuse for getting into a car accident a few years back and the excuse I used when claiming my case to insurance—they didn’t get it).

Once getting into the building, I was in a hurry to get everything done. I was very jittery while waiting for the security guard to take down my information before directing me to the application office. I paced back and forth, looking as if I desperately needed to relieve myself. Physically, I looked terrible and probably suspicious. I had red blood shot eyes (for clarification: from lack of sleep), I was profusely sweating, and breathing heavily and probably foaming from the mouth. After reaching the visa application office, I immediately dumped all my visa materials on the desk, ready for them to process all my information. One of the employees looked at me with disgust and reluctantly gathered my materials together. She quickly scanned through my paperwork until she saw that my application wasn’t filled out at all. Oops! As she was explaining that this needs to be filled out completely before I can approach the desk, I saw other visa applicants start to trickle into line. I started to write down my information on the application right there on the desk but she angrily pointed towards a table across the room. I sat down at the table and quickly filled out the application. Though, I did try to be very vague with my written responses. My program specifically told me not to mention my employment endeavors in Thailand since the Thai Consulate would not be able to issue me a tourist visa knowing that I was working in Thailand. With the materials I had with me presently, the tourist visa was the only visa I was able to get.

I stepped into line again. Once at the front, I gave the same employee my application. She looked up at me with disappointment. She shoved the application back at me and pointed to the empty address and phone number line. She blatantly asked, “So you don’t have a house address? Where do you live? You are homeless? How about a phone? No phone?” I laughed shamefully as I realized I still forgot to fill out majority of the application. Again, she asked me to step aside to complete the application. I slowly started to shuffle off until I saw more people pour into the office. While standing, I quickly wrote down my address, phone number, and other important information. Then, I repositioned myself in the front of the line (essentially cutting the line). I felt bad but I was desperate to get back to work in time. Again, I dumped all my paperwork on the desk. So the same annoyed employee started to file all my materials (while shaking her head in disappointment). She took an extra hard look at my extra passport pictures I had to take for the visa application. She eyed me and then eyed these pictures several times as if she could not find the similarities between my real face and the spazzed out, disheveled person in the photo.

I was pretty embarrassed of my passport photos. I tried to rigorously prepare for this photo as I used my dad’s preparation list he emailed me as a guide:

5) Your passport picture:
-- Take a plain picture, you are less of a *target* for kidnapping. I'm serious; you don't want to look like a cheerful, bubble-headed, blonde cheerleader "on 'vacation' to help the poor Thai people find a good tanning salon." (stereotype of Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde).
-- If your pic looks serious but human, and your hair tied back, you present yourself as a no-nonsense, business-like person--not a girl.
-- Just assume that some Thai government people are corrupt and will sell pictures of pretty girls arriving at the Institute to kidnappers. Just think that way until you get settled. Look smart and alert, and your pose should imply confidence, not weakness.
-- No need to smile on official photos

First off, I’m not blonde. I don’t know why my dad kept on referencing being blonde when trying to warn me in both his writing and in person. Well at least that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about according to my dad. After several practice poses in front of my mirror and with MacBook’s Photobooth, I came prepared for my photo shoot at Walgreens.  I didn’t wear make-up and tried not to look like someone wanting to help others find a tanning salon?? The only thing is that most people think that I am a lot younger than I am. Not wearing make-up supports these judgments. Other’s perception of my age usually ranges from 12-17 years old. Within the last 2 years, I have been denied entry to a rated R movie, asked to try-out for a 13’s volleyball team, and genuinely asked by a customer at my restaurant if I were legally able to work yet (as I was servicing them…foolish huh?). By the way, I’m 24. So not wearing make-up or anything to help myself look more mature, makes me look even younger. If my pictures were sold, I might actually be more appealing as an underage girl (pedophilia is a more acceptable and somewhat desired concept in Thailand).

Right as I was posing for my picture, the photographer told me to show my ears and stop smiling. I was very confused by this since I was not aware that this was an actual rule. But with my dad’s wise words in mind, I thought it would be okay (my picture would be less desirable maybe). So I took the picture. It was terrible. I looked strained as I attempted to keep my mouth in a leveled and natural position. The right side of my upper lip had a bit of a snarl while one eye furiously widened more than the other. Surprisingly, I had a slight alfalfa on top of my head in this photo. To make matters worse, I had several blisters on my face since I recently had warts frozen off my face (gross!). As my dermatologist stated, I was a “dermatology dream.” Not because I had good skin or anything but because of the plethora of warts (common, flat, plantar…you name it) I had all over my body. Many people continue to remind me, “But you don’t have genital warts right? You need to make sure to clarify that part.” But honestly, I feel like I have had so many wart attacks that I wouldn’t be surprised.

The employee took my paperwork and told me to go on my way. So I ran out, or sped walked out of the building. After finding Lacey outside appeasing my dog’s high anxiety, I told her a bit of what happened. She thought it was strange that they kept my passport even when I made copies. So again, I ran back inside the building, checked in at the security desk, and cut in front of the entire line. She looked at me with disappointment (again) and stated, “What do you want?” I asked her about my passport situation and she explained that they need to place the visa inside the passport. After seeing the piles of applications interlaced with passports, I felt reassured that my passport was somewhat safe. Then I saw some of my documents still left on the desk (the ones I carelessly spilled). I realized that there was an important document from my program that stated that I would be working in Thailand. If they would’ve gotten a hold of this, I would have been denied a tourist visa. So I quickly grabbed it and ran out of the consulate. Good thing I went back!

Lacey and I headed back into town and actually got back within 30 minutes. There wasn’t traffic at all! I ended up going home, having enough time to walk my dog, eat breakfast, and watch an episode of How I Met Your Mother. I felt stupid for acting like a crazy person at the Thai Consulate.

Fast-Forward: October 6, 2011

Because I was paranoid that my passport was going to be lost or stolen while at the Thai consulate (thanks mom!), I found an opportunity to travel to Los Angeles at an earlier time. Lacey and I decided to take a trip to LA not only to drop a friend off at the airport but also to have another one of our wretched traffic ridden LA road trips. But this time, we had a lot more fun.

We actually got to the Thai Consulate in record time. I got my visa (and finally felt at ease). We also were able to go into the Consulate’s museum. We saw beautiful golden statues and headdresses and narrative posters relaying Thailand’s past and current historical events. Fun fact: Lacey and I actually found out that the current king of Thailand, King Bhumibol, not only is the longest reigning king in Thailand history but also was born in the United States, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The Thai king is an American citizen! Turns out, Bhumibol was actually not destined to be a king, his older brother was. At the age of 18, Bhumibol was studying at college when his older brother died from a gunshot wound. Bhumibol changed his major to political science and law and quickly finished up his courses before taking the throne in Thailand. Interesting, huh?

Since we seemed to make several stops along the trip, we adapted one of our favorite TV shows’, How I Met Your Mother, habit of singing in the car during road trips. Two of the main characters would blast and sing along to the song, 500 Miles by the Proclaimers, every time they were on a road trip. Without actually knowing all the lyrics of the song, Lacey and I would sing the song acapella every time we started the car up again. It went like this:

Lacey and Christy: But I would walk 500 miles

Both: And I would walk 500 more

Both: Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles

Both: Duh duh duh blah duh duh duh (…we couldn’t remember the lyrics)

Lacey: Dada dat dah

Christy: Dada dat dah

Both: Dada duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh da

Then laughter for several minutes before even moving out of the parking space.

This happened a lot.

Additionally, we went on this bizarre expedition for McDonald’s. Normally, McDonald’s is not my food of choice but we were hungry, broke, and desperate. We yelped and googled every McDonald’s along our way home. But we could not seem to find any McDonald’s nearby. It was frustrating. After a good amount of searching, Lacey screamed. For a split second, I thought we were about to die since we were just driving over train tracks. I just imagined a train plowing straight into us and shattering the car and our bodies into pieces. I screamed, closed my eyes, and almost slammed on my brakes. But when looking around and seeing that there wasn’t a train in sight, I quickly turned to her and asked, “What happened? Is everything alright?” Without looking at me, her eyes gazing longingly before her and a smile so slight it was disturbing. Without speaking, she pointed her finger towards the McDonald’s ahead of us. I shrieked, “That was it! A McDonald’s! I thought we were both going to die by train!” We were dying of laughter at the concept that all the drama spurred from our odd desire for McDonald’s. We also laughed at the fact that not many people would let out a blood curdling scream for McDonald’s. The funny thing was we both had lunch dates to go to after. But we had to get our McDonald’s.

So I can now relax. I have almost all my official documents gathered in order to work in Thailand for the next 6 months. I just need my post-degree transcripts and verification letters (which can easily be retrieved from my university) and my background check (which has taken over 9 weeks to get back…I must have done something wrong).

After this whole debacle trying to research about visas, applying for my visa, and now getting my visa, I still actually don’t know how visas work. I think I will be okay to stay in Thailand for 60 days at this point, but I still will have to figure out the whole visa run concept and the ability to travel outside Thailand with my visa. Maybe, I’ll check Wikipedia again.

This is actually not a photo from either road trips. It was just the only one I had of Lacey and me in a car together.

Just My Luck!

Sept 9th, 2011

The week before I’m supposed to place a lot of money for my trip—this includes vaccination fees, plane ticket, the rest of my deposit—I received an email from my former mentor teacher telling me that I was going to get interviewed for his school’s kindergarten teaching position. This mentor teacher is a teacher at my dream elementary school. When student teaching at this school, I loved everything about the school: the staff, the kids, and the overall atmosphere. My teacher was an additional plus. He was funny, relatable, and he helped guide me through some of the toughest points in my teaching program. Though he did think I was a bit crazy and would poke fun of my ability to stress out at everything. My experience at this school is how I got to where I’m at presently. Let’s back up to the beginning.

Rewind: Spring-Summer 2011

It all started when I came back to the school to visit my mentor teacher and the 2^nd graders in May. It was a wonderful feeling sneaking into the back of the classroom and watching the kids one by one turn around and gasp at my presence. After not teaching or seeing these kids in about two months, I received what it felt like 100 hugs from each of them. It felt good especially since I was teaching 5^th grade at the time and didn’t receive hugs at all—any form of affection easily embarrassed them.

After saying my goodbyes to the kiddies, I went to the office to say hello to the principal. When just thinking it would be a quick greet, he asked me to sit down to discuss a possible future with the school. I was completely astonished when he told me that there were a couple positions opening up for the following school year and he wanted to get me in the interview process as soon as possible. He told me that if his school didn’t end up picking me up, he would do all he can to try to get me interviews at other schools in the district. He asked me to bring in my resumes and cover letters so he can keep one on file and distribute the rest to other principals in the area.

I walked out of the school on a complete high. I was so happy that I was even considered as a potential candidate for any teaching position. I was even shocked that the principal saw me as good teacher material (or even saw me at all for that matter). For those who aren’t teachers, principals are the ultimate celebrities in the teaching world. When the economy is this terrible and you are hopelessly looking for a teaching job, when you meet a school principal, your mind is boggled, your voice stammers, and you try telling them how much you admire their work in hopes that they would remember you in the end. At our restaurant we have three other teachers who work full time as servers since they haven’t been able to find a job in the last couple of years. That’s how bad it is! I remember this one time as I was working at the restaurant; a principal from a top-notch elementary school came in for dinner. One of the servers/teachers informed us that she was in our presence and we excitedly hid near her table and stared. As we completely ignored our tables, we gushed about the principal, the possibility of meeting her, and the miraculous but highly unlikely chance of her requesting us to interview for a position at her school.

One of the servers/teachers actually talked to the principal and asked her about the job situation at her school. The principal rudely responded by saying, “There won’t be any hiring in [this city] for the next 10 years.” Great! Funny enough, soon after this event, the same principal ended up desperately needing teachers for the following school year. She even called my university to ask for contact information of our teaching candidates (specifically requesting male teachers). By the way, if you are male and have a good head on your shoulders, you are in as a teacher! All us girls were annoyed (and of course happy for his good fortune) that one of our peers received an interview without having to reach out to the school. We all bluntly exclaimed that we were going to get a sex change in order to get a job in this economy (something I heard can be done pretty easily in Thailand ;).

After my visit to my favorite elementary school, I brought my resume and cover letter to the principal the following week. He asked me to continue checking back with him every week to get an update on the hiring process. He even told me that the open positions were 2^nd grade! My favorite to teach! So every week, I meticulously checked back with him. And each week, I received the same troubling news: “Human resources is still going through the list of laid off teachers first”, or “I don’t have any updates for you at the moment.” It was okay though. Calling the principal in hopes of getting my dream job was the highlight of my last quarter teaching--I wasn’t the biggest fan of my current teaching placement. However, those 2^nd grade positions were eventually filled up by some of the district’s previously laid off teachers.

By July, I contacted the principal again to get another update. He informed me that there weren’t any hopes for new teachers in this district and many others. He also told me that he wasn’t going to be the principal of the school anymore since he was promoted to a pretty reputable director position in the district. This was a plus since he essentially became my eyes for all the elementary schools as he told me he would let me know of any job openings in subsequent years. But at this point, I had given up my hopes of being a teacher this upcoming school year.

Present Time: September 2011

I completely stopped looking for a teaching job by July. Instead I made a decision to travel the world—or just Thailand. It took a lot of time, effort, and frustration preparing for this trip. I aggravated my parents, paid a non-refundable deposit, learned the Thai language (or at least learned hello in Thai—Sawasdee Ka and bought Thai phrasebooks and dictionaries), ate a ton of spicy food (and endured a lot of stomach aches), and of course the agony I’ve put myself through creating this blog. But in all seriousness, I have mentally and financially prepared for this trip.

After receiving the email from my former mentor teacher, I was in such disbelief, I cried. I cried because of all the stress I went through and effort I put in even trying to get an interview anywhere. Then after putting this dream on hold, I put a lot of myself (and stress) into this trip. I was very excited for Thailand and most of everything was prepared already. And I couldn’t believe that this opportunity was coming at this time--after I booked my trip. I called the former principal and asked him about what he knows of the situation. He explained to me that they decided to hire three kindergarten teachers this year. But after the first week of school, they realized with the huge influx of kindergarteners, they needed just one more teacher. The current principal of the school approached him and my former mentor teacher, both whom recommended me as a qualified candidate. At the time, I was one of a few the principal was considering for the position. So I had a choice to go through with the interview or decline this job opportunity to continue preparing for my trip.

To many, this would be an easy decision--just take the U.S. teaching job. I know most of my credential mates would have killed me if they knew that I was having a hard time choosing. I was afraid to tell my mom since she would have rigorously pressured me into taking the teaching job, in hopes that I would never set foot in Thailand. I decided to take the weekend to think everything over. This was an example of my thought process:

Reasons for taking/not taking the U.S. job—

                        Pros

• The only opportunity I may have for a while.
• It's a great school with a great staff.
• If I came back from my trip, I will be as stressed and sad as I was in the beginning of summer (back to square one...)
• It's a job!!

  

                        Cons

• It is already 2-3 weeks into school (losing all those weeks is a big deal for in kindergarten, especially as a new teacher)
• Teaching kindergarten is not my forté
• I will be settled into a job very early on and won't be able to travel/live in another country
• I will lose a lot of money from my already planned trip

This decision reminds me of this time when I couldn’t decide which flask to buy. One flask had a detailed map of the world and the other had cute teacher apples. In this case, I chose the apples, mainly thinking that it would be ironic for a teacher to carry around a flask, representing a profession that is responsible and alcohol and drug-free. Let’s be honest, teachers may need it the most. Though I don’t want you to worry, Mom and Dad. I’m not an excessive drinker. Just like you taught me, I’m trying to be frugal. I just use the flask to sneak alcohol into bars and clubs so I don’t have to pay for their overpriced drinks.

Over the weekend, though I didn’t explicitly say, I was leaning more towards Thailand. But I decided that I wasn’t going to make the final decision until the principal actually contacted me about the job. It was my way to de-stress and not have to think about this dilemma anymore.

On Monday, I received an email from the current principal. Her email stated that she heard a lot about me and she thought I would be a great candidate for the teaching position. She asked me to apply so I can get started with the interviews. After thinking it over at work, I realized how excited I was to be a kindergarten teacher. I wanted to take the job opportunity! I rushed home after work and applied for the position. I was so nervous and excited while typing out my application; I could barely keep my fingers on the computer keys. After I sent my application, I spent the rest of the night practicing for my interview and brushing up on my kindergarten knowledge.

I was trying to imagine what my kindergarten classroom would look like. I was thinking a jungle theme possibly. I could have a cute behavior rule be: No Monkey Business, and monkey-themed reinforcement system in which students move their velcro bananas up and down a monkey tree depending on their behavior. I was thinking about some “get to know you” activities that involved the kids creating newspaper articles about themselves and writing stories about their life, family, and interests. Maybe they can also give a presen...But then I remembered…kindergarteners couldn’t write stories yet. I realized how inexperienced I was with that particular age group since 2^nd grade was the youngest I’ve taught in the past. I started to get nervous about the interview and the prospective job. But I convinced myself everything would be fine and I assumed that I would have a lot of resources at hand and fellow teachers helping me out.

The next day (Tuesday), I waited for a call from the principal. With no call by the end of the day, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t the path for me. Even if they were to contact me for an interview within the next couple days, it was getting pretty close to the time I had to put down money for the Thailand trip. I had to get vaccinated on Wednesday. I had to pay for my non-refundable plane ticket and the $600 vaccine on Thursday. And I needed to pay the rest of my program deposit by the end of the week. So if interviews were at the end of the week, I would have to cancel these time-sensitive appointments if I wanted to go through with the interview and take the job. And then I would have to cancel my trip altogether. So I had to choose, Thailand or the job here.

The principal called me Wednesday afternoon. When I answered the phone, I was surprised and a bit feverish from being poked and prodded all day (for clarification, with vaccines and a large wart removal gun). She told me that she wanted to interview me on Friday. I wasn’t as clear-headed when talking to her and I think I might have stammered, “ Uhhh…Thailand…coming up…uhhh….I need to put down a lot of money…I will lose money…ummmm…This is such a hard decision…ahhh…I don’t know what to do…the interview long? I sounded like a deranged caveman woken up early from hibernation. I was so embarrassed. She let me know that that a few others were interviewing as well, some of which who have worked in the district before. I asked her if I could call her back within the hour to give her my decision. Still not comprehending my dilemma (since I was uberly unclear), she was probably thinking, “Wow, she even has to make a decision!

I knew my decision already. But it was hard for me to say it out loud. I was told I had a chance of getting the job and I feel as if I am a very proficient and memorable interviewee. But there was still uncertainty and I could very easily not get the job as well. If I canceled all the payments I had to make this week, went for the job, and didn’t get the job, I would lose both Thailand and the job and would have to continue serving for the next year of my life. I didn’t want to be left with nothing.

I also started thinking, “Do I want to start off my first year stressed and behind?” Since I would be starting off three weeks late, I feel like I would be catching up all year. And though beggars can’t be choosers, I still wasn’t as comfortable with kindergarten yet. This job didn’t seem right for me at this time. And on the other hand, Thailand felt safe yet exciting. My trip was already planned and I already had my job in Thailand. I wouldn’t have this kind of opportunity later when I have additional commitments like a family or full-time job. Plus, I plan to visit almost 10 countries within the year. That’s exciting!

I called the principal back after an hour. This time I wrote myself a script, just in case I fumbled over my words again. I thanked her for the amazing opportunity and even told her that I thought I was crazy not taking it. But I explained why my circumstances make this decision rather difficult. I told her about the TESOL certificate and Thai teaching job, the money that was due this week, and the planning and money already invested in my trip. She was so intrigued by my story that she asked me to contact her right when I get back so she can meet with me and try to see what she could do for me next year. This was better than I hoped! Being able to do my traveling but come back with hopes that I may have another job opportunity in the future. Later, we planned to meet in the next month so that I can get to know her and she can hear a little bit more of my story.

I thanked her for her consideration and hung up. Then I cried. I didn’t know why I was crying at first. But I realized I just gave up a big opportunity, one that I worked so hard for in the last year and a half of my teaching program. One opportunity that most of my graduating class did not receive. I knew I made the right decision but it was very hard to let this other one go. And when I did, I did feel relief. A large weight was lifted off my shoulders and now I can continue planning my adventure across seas.

Just my luck, huh?

Hiyah! Defend Yourself!

September 6th, 2011

My parents are not too enthusiastic about my trip abroad since they are both scared for my safety. My mom is especially scared for me. She thinks that I might be kidnapped or murdered. Another fear they have is that I may fall in love with the country so much that I’ll never come back again. Coincidentally, my mom took a similar path when she was my age. I always saw my mom as the black sheep of her family ever since hearing her story. But really she is the bravest of all of them. In a conservative Taiwanese family and being the youngest girl, she was treated like the runt of the siblings.

Her father was particularly hard on her. I even heard he had a list, called The List of My Biggest Disappointments. The first and only thing on that list was my mom’s defying action: Moving to the U.S. After graduating from college, my mom picked up her life in Taiwan and traveled to the United States all by herself. Despite the severe ramifications placed upon her by her family, she received her MBA, bought her own condominium, and had a stable and lucrative job as an accountant before the age 25. It was through work how she met my dad. Hmm, work relationships. We all know how that goes sometimes. She dated my dad for over a year before they got married. This was another point on my grandfather’s disappointment list: Married a White Guy. At one point, my mom joked that when her sister got a divorce she felt a small sense of relief. Finally she didn’t feel alone, since she now shared a spot on that list with her sister. I don’t think I was supposed to divulge that information. Sorry Mom…

Despite her obsessive paranoia of everything imaginable, my mom is actually very courageous. To even go against her family’s wishes and make these significant decisions on her own is difficult at such a young age. I think her independence and perseverance are valued characteristics she possesses, one that her family members probably don’t embody as well. I feel like my mom in this way. I feel independent and strong. Though going against my parents’ initial wishes, I am making decisions and financing my trip on my own (except for the silly Japanese Encephalitis vaccine). And I know my parents do support me to an extent.

Now after that reflective and sentimental tangent, one of the ways to prevent my parents from having a heart attack is to learn to defend myself—one of the many ways I can be independent. My dad was the one that brought up the idea of self-defense. I thought it was a great idea. It was something I have always been interested in trying out. So I went online and tried to find a somewhat cheap place to learn self-defense in Orange County. I quickly learn about the self-defense fighting system, Krav Maga. Their class schedule and price seemed very reasonable for my expectations. I only planned to take self-defense classes for about a month and they offered an inexpensive plan that allowed me to take 5 classes within a month. But despite my whole independent revelation, I did want company for this class. So I asked my good friend Lacey to join me.

We both arrived to our first class. Surprisingly we found out that this first class would be the free trial run. Score! 6 classes for the price of 5! After signing a waiver release form, we walked into the gym area to start stretching. When observing the gym, we noticed that most of the fighters were large, hefty men, some of which who were intensely destroying the surrounding punching bags and making savage grunting noises that echoed within the small room reeking of sweat and probably blood.

The instructor came into the gym and asked us all to line up on the back wall. There was a mirror right across from us so we were able to observe our fierce fighting techniques and observe how small we were in comparison to most of the other fighters. Of course, not only did Lacey and I stand out because of our seemingly muscular and powerfully built figures but mostly because we were wearing bright neon blue outfits. Everyone else was in black or grey.

After the initial warm up and stretch, the instructor asked us to run around and hit each other in the head and stomach. Lacey and I had no idea what to do. While giggling most of the time, we ran around trying to follow his instructions. I was continuously getting hit in the head, both failing to defend myself and attack others. One very aggressive and much bigger woman kept punching me in the stomach. Lacey was more aggressive than I. But she was more focused on her offense than her defense. The burly woman came up to her and repeatedly smacked her in the stomach and head while screaming, “Defend yourself! Defend yourself!” This woman also made some very interesting grunting noises throughout the class (those of which I shall not attempt to type out). At this point, we both felt incompetent and undersized for this class.

Next, we participated in a partner activity that required us to take turns choking each other. A good way to blow off some steam, right? While one partner choked the other, the other partner used a quick approach to get out of the choke hold. Krav Maga calls one of the defending techniques, the Monkey Grip. This grip is when you put your hands up near your head (as if you are a monkey climbing a fence maybe) and quickly sweep downwards towards the attacker’s thumbs (the weakest part of their hold) to remove their hands from your body. They also emphasized the importance of being quick rather than strong. This is definitely my forté—being quick. I am actually widely known for my quick reactions. Though this may be more of a self-acclaimed notion, my quickness has always gotten me out of sticky situations. Don’t worry; I’ve never used these powers for evil. For example, people always laugh when I tell them I play volleyball. They usually state, “But don’t you have to be tall to play.” And I respond by informing them about my Ninja quickness and then also remind them that I’m Asian (enough said, right?). Additionally, I had a science professor become completely astonished when I performed in his study on human reaction times. I completely surpassed all his recent studies and I even surprised myself.

Regardless of my distinguished quickness and Lacey’s aggressiveness, Lacey and I were not good at choking others. We were very prissy when choking one another since we were afraid of hurting each other. We thought we were doing such a great job getting out of choke holds until the instructor came by and showed us how it’s really done. Without warning, he quickly wrapped his hands around my neck and started squeezing tightly. My body went into shock as he pressed his thumbs into my windpipe and began to push my body backwards. Without thinking (or actually with thinking my life was in danger), I put up my Monkey Grip and tore his hands away from my neck as quickly as possible. With my initial success and light-headed state of mind, I eagerly pointed to Lacey and exclaimed, “Choke Lacey! Choke Lacey!” realizing how effective your technique becomes when someone is really choking you. Practicing with Lacey probably wasn’t as beneficial since I don’t think there will be too many Lacey’s out there attacking me in Thailand.

After the free trial, Lacey and I enjoyed our experience with Krav Maga so much that we signed up for the month. Just within one class, we had gathered some good defensive techniques and very red and swollen necks.  Next week, we went through some of the same activities--except we both were more aggressive and confident. While attacking each other (or attacking the pads we were holding), we both had different scripts to help motivate each other. As I would aggress Lacey, I would bring back those vivid and gloomy memories of her beloved deceased fish, Lucky. As I attacked her I would scream, “How did it feel when Lucky died? I killed Lucky! What are you going to do now?!?” After provoking her more vulnerable and sensitive side, she would knee or kick me as hard as she could in the groin (or the pad I was holding in that place). And then with me, she would yell, “I am a Thai rapist and I’m going to get you!” And again, I would furiously kick her in the groin or pad—whatever was most accessible.

Knowing that our prissy attacks on each other weren’t as effective, we switched to male partners at times. Unfortunately, they sweat a lot more than we did (since we glisten…right Lacey?) and the idea of showering has never been as appealing. And showering has never really been my strong suit.

After just couple classes, Lacey and I are becoming pro-defenders and even proficient attackers. We have even attempted practicing our moves at home, which haven’t been the best of ideas. Foolishly, we have been so excited about our new set of skills that we have been announcing to everyone to choke us even in the more professional setting (while working at our restaurant) or the more dangerous setting (at a party when people are drinking excessively). Don’t try this at home.