For those of you who have come in from Google searching for surrealist literature, you’re in for a disappointment, because all the title of this post refers to was the monumental (for me anyway) occaision that my daughter Mali uttered these magic words for the first time.  Sure we’ve had baba for a week or so now, but this was a definite “duh” sound.

Stuff like this really makes exhausting Sundays with my daughter rewarding.  Sure I’ve had to pick up my entire DVD collection off the floor after it was pulled off the shelf, a dipping sauce bowl full of yummy jalepino sauce got smashed, she complained the second she got brought in out of the boiling March sun, and she just spent 20 minutes mooing at us when she got overtired and wanted to play with the stereo instead of going to bed, but her personality is generally so sweet that it’s impossible to get too annoyed with her.  Another development thing is that she’s finally figured out that buttons are best pressed with the index finger and not the palm of the hand.

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If yesterday was everyone else in the staffroom’s re-test hell, today’s was my own personal one. The bulk of the 15 students made it in today to learn the 5 conversations by heart neccessary for me to sign their little green slips and award them an undeserved pass.

There’s always something that they do in my tests that annoys me and this time was no exception. I expected that some of the weakest might break up their test into maybe 2-3 units at a time, but not only did half of them insist on attmpting one at a time, they couldn’t even do it in twos and got aother guy who had already passed to come in and read the other half. Effectively this doubled the amount of times I had to hear any given coversation.

Some students took in excess of 8 times in coming to me to perform and still didn’t do enough to pass. “Come back tomorrow!” I instructed one girl who’d failed miserably all semester to pass a single one of the simple tests I’d set that semester after she was still struggling to remember a single sentence at 4pm, but this was apparently not on as she had something important to do somewhere in the boonies..I went way overtime for her, but it was apparent that she wasn’t going to be anywhere near the standard by the time it was time to go home and she was fishing for me to to just pass her whatever. Not a chance!

It always amuses me to see just how terrible some kids clearly regard me as when I don’t give them a pass even when they don’t even approach the pass level. It just goes to show you just how used they are to unacheiving and being rewarded by the Thai teachers with a pass at the end of it without the slightest effort needed to do so.

I have yet to even see one guy. He promptly disappeared after I firstly rumbled him with the conversations scrawled on his hands then, after instructing him to wash and come back, rumbling him again with the same conversations scrawled on his bare feet.

Another guy just didn’t show up…the one who scored a massive 25%.

On a lighter note my extra class seemed to enjoy my class today when I took them into the self-access centre and we watched a Teletubbies DVD. It was funny that English meant for the under-4’s is still difficult for reasonable M5 (16-17 yo) students to comprehend. I did manage to squeeze some reasonable conversation out of the 20 minutes we watched, including “What’s your favourite Teletubby and why?” to discussion about why Dipsy is black.  It was a bit daft at times but was a welcome break from the classroom, I felt.

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On Saturday at the Wor Zone, the English department released the final grades including those who managed to get a grade zero. Consequently the staffroom is abuzz with the kind of students who would otherwise not be seen dead near an English teacher, or an English class for that matter! Students who felt they shouldn’t have failed are asking to see the grading books, and I even had students and their parents coming round to my house yesterday (Sunday!) to ask me to check for them.
I personally have 15 ne’er-do-wells who are vying to change their zeroes to ones via a re-test. Their usual assumption is that I just give them their final test, which they scrape though or otherwise, but inevitably they pass. Ok, I did that in previous years and felt supremely dissatisfied that people who had to make no effort, got through without much fuss. This year, I decided to make it harder - much harder.

As my course is Speaking and Listening, I have always felt that giving a paper test as a final is a waste of time, though it’s something I have to do as a matter of school policy.
In the past, my re-test just echoed the final test, but this year I’m making them do a speaking test. The must memorise the conversations in all 5 units we studied this semester. Ok not much genuine speaking there but at least it’s something they’ll have to knuckle down to rather than a random a,b,c,d waste of time. I’ve given them 24 hours to prepare, and if they come tomorrow and perform to my satisfaction they get their grade 1, if not they come back on Wednesday. If they pull it off on Wednesday they get their grade 1, if not it’s grade zero on their first re-test card. I repeat this Thursday and Friday, and if there is ANYONE left who has not performed satisfactorally by then, I am authorised to fail them.

Four chances! That’s two more than they’re technically allowed!

Of course this announcement when given, was greeted with consternation by the students, who begged to have a simple abcd test, who berated me that they lived in faraway Rattaphum district, that it was so unfair to have to learn 5 units and not 2, though they ultimately knew that had they passed the first time around, they would not have to be there in the first place. It was a case of talk to the hand! This class will try to blag out of tests EVERY time.
I saw no reason to capitulate, after all these are students who barely lifted a finger all semester, and I’m certainly not a difficult man to please. Let’s see which of these students jump through the hoops quickest. I’ve got a feeling that I know which few I’ll still be seeing later in the week.

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Slept 8pm til 8am…presumably because of the pain killers I’d been taking. I said yesterday that I wasn’t able to feel anything, well it was largely true today, but then I kept getting little reminders of the presence of my kidneys, and after 14 hours without a painkiller decided I’d prefer not to be reminded and for them to shut up and do whatever it is they do.

Continued consuming vast amounts of water as per doctors orders. Took Mali out in the stroller in the afternoon, and stopped by at Lek’s Bar where Grasshopper was lurking who too had been in hospital all weekend with a stomach ulcer. We looked quite a pair - me with my bottled water and him with his milk. Took Mali off to see the Monkeys at Monkey Mountain who promptly wrecked the straps on her stroller.

Mali appears to have added a second word to her vocabulary, and now says Baba as well as Mama…I’m assuming the “b” is an attempted “d”…well I hope so anyway, as I’m getting fed up with being called Mama. I can’t really complain at 8.5 months I guess.

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Well, after yetsterday’s wedding escapdes I was pretty knackered out so I went to bed at about 11:30 last night and fell right to sleep.  Half an hour later I woke up with a pain in my abdomen.  I just thought it was gas and went to the toilet, but having sat down I realised something was not right and the pain started to grow more intense.  I tried taking pain killers but just as I thought they were about to kick in I had the urge to vomit and ejected them.  Two hours later and the pain wa just getting worse and worse I couldn’t stand it anymore so Kan called her brother and his girlfriend, who came round to babysit Mali, and Kan drove me to Songkhla hospital.  I received a pain killer shot in my bum and gave a urine sample, and the doctor said he believed it to be a kidney stone and that I should just go home and drink lots of water to flush it out.

I got another shot in the arm to make me drowsey again, and after 2 hours went back home feeling sleepy and in a lot less pain.  Felt the odd twinge this morning, but I went to the toilet earlier and I think (not sure) something came out, but it flushed away before I could fish it out to examine it, but it was tiny and black. Right now I can’t feel any pain.
Bloody typical eh?  Not three weeks past thrity and my organs are giving me gyp already!  Fok me that was painful!

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This is Mali’s favourite toy Pooh. It was given to us by Saskia and Rachel from school, and Mali loves knocking him over.
I’ve just knocked up a new set on Flickr of other photos of Mali at one month old, so go and check it out at

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ldma/sets/670875/

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I realise I should have posted this a week ago, but for those that don’t know and read my blog just to belatedly announce the birth of our baby daughter Mali, who arrived last Thursday 23/6/05 at 2:37 PM weighing 3.5kg (and no I don’t know what it is in pounds…about 7 possibly).

We’ve been back home for 3 days now, and although it’s really tiring and my sleeping patterns are reverting to pre-student days…ie before midnight, Mali has so far been a dream, little crying…cute as you want

Thanks to everyone who sent me e-mails. I may get round to send ing some back, but I have to grab my computer time when I can these days. Yes I have been changing nappies, though Kan is kind enough to handle the pooey ones, despite her being in pain from the C-section.

You can see more photos of Mali and the first couple of days at
the Flickr set I created

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Just a quick message to anyone concerned that I’ve been swept away by tsunamis. I’m on completely the opposite side to where it happened, and what’s more I snored through the whole force 9.0 earthquake too.

Still thanks to the various friends and family for being concerned, but school entirely prevented me from taking Xmas holidays to Andaman coastal resorts. A few friends of mine were caught up in it, but so far, thank goodness, no-one I know has been killed.

Nasty stuff…the current toll could be upto 100,000.

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I think it’s about time I mentioned on my blog the woderful news we had last week that Kan my lovely wife is about 10-11 weeks pregnant with our first child.

We’re deep into morning sickness stage right now with violent retching waking me up every morning this weekend, and complaints that everything tastes of aluminium….there’s also a noticable widening of her girth, which I was teasing her last week was just that she was putting on weight from eating too much. She actually eats like a mouse…well she did until this week. Now she’s starting to out eat a fat bastard like me.

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I have a feeling that my blog is punishing me for not posting enough just lately, as it has a cut off of three weeks worth of blogs and if I stop writing for a while the whole formatting thing goes to hell. I guess I should spend a little quality time with it, which I should be able to do once next week (test marking week) is out of the way. The good news at the Wor Zone is that we get nearly three weeks in stead of the usual two in October, but I can’t see us going anywhere for the break as we want to go to England in April 2005. Before that happens theres a whole nother semester. Note to self…must find teachers must find teachers must find teachers.

I’ll endeavour to find you something of equal intellectual levels of the paper vagina which has caused record levels of comments(3) in relation to the last 2 months.

Big shout out to Hangover Monkey whose blog My Neighbours Are Hoors caused our staffroom much entertainment a few weeks ago, definately reminded me of the man like Grasshopper who is in a similar situation.

Should also mention that I got my Holy Grail Visa Stamp last week. 1 year until June next year. Still have to report to immigration every three months but thats in Songkhla and not the Sadao border. Immigration are a scarey bunch, but I’ve warmed to them a bit ever since I met my immigration officer down at the new Vietnamese restaurant/bar on Sisuda Road, nice spot, good tunes, well decorated and interesting if porktastic menu.

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