wheels

Surat Thani is a place with blistering sun and oppressive humidity, a place that makes you grateful for every breeze. The steaming bowls of spicy noodles do little to ease the burn. I find my brain and my limbs sluggish in this heat, every movement a great effort. As the sun sets and the waitress pours a beer over ice, the world clears up and my pulse quickens to normal.

Life is busier here than it is in Zafra. The streets wake up before seven every day, and rather than European microcars and pedestrians, they're crowded with motorbikes, SUVs, and smoke-belching pickup trucks. Food carts ring their bells as they pass houses and shops and cars and motorcycles blow past them. Lane markers are mere suggestions, to be taken or ignored according to the driver's whim or convenience; most choose to go where they see empty pavement, regardless of those yellow lines.

Frankly, I'm terrified of the streets, but it was too much of a hassle to be without transportation, so Levi and I bought a motorbike, a used teal Honda with some scratches and cracks, but she's got spirit. I haven't yet mastered the art of Thai driving, but I'm determined.

I'm getting the hang of my classes. Teaching little kids is like putting on a show. Since they won't learn if they're bored, the goal is to keep them laughing while tricking them into speaking English. It's not a difficult task; they're eager to please and highly excitable, and even if they don't understand a word I'm saying, they're quick to respond with cheers and grins. It's hard not to leave smiling.