How to Teach, What to Wear, Teacher Tributes, and Teacher Journals

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  • A Tribute to Mitch by Janet 2011

    From Janet's brain:

    It might seem mean, but I kind of decided not to be friends with Mitch when he first moved here. Mitch and his long-time girlfriend were in the midst of a messy break-up when they first moved to Surat Thani, so to avoid “compulsively making things worse” (which — No shit — my fortune cookie told me to stop doing), I decided to cement my blossoming friendship with Girl- who-no-longer-is-friend and leave mopey Mitch behind.

    But Mitch was just so damn sweet he won me over.

    It started with our trip to Cambodia together. “Together” meaning we ran into each other at the border and ended up sticking together for the entire time. He was so easy-going. He let John and Girl and me make the decisions about where to eat, where to go. He never complained or whined about anything. He was accommodating and kind.

    So in the end, when the chips fell and Girl left, I felt like we got stuck with the very lucky half of that pairing.

    He's kind of changed a lot this year— he's been through a lot of ups and downs —but he's always been kind and luxuriously generous with his time and energy. He's always willing to do you a favor, share a drink, take a trip, pick you up, take you around, go out, stay in, watch TV, share a book, drink coffee — or anything else —with you.

    When I lit into him with a stream of angry cursing after a housemate-related incident one time, he just looked at me all laid-back and said, “I'm sorry, man.” Just like that. Not defensive or anything. Just simple and real.

    And that's kind of how he is about everything. He never complains* about stuff, even when things suck really bad. Like, he never complains about the mess around the house or about how he always has to pick up the cat poop or anything.

    When John and I decided to move out of our SE housing and needed a housemate to share rent with, Mitch agreed. When we wanted to adopt a cat, Mitch got excited about it. When we needed our space, Mitch disappeared. When we needed a friend, he showed up! Like magic.

    And then there's the work stuff. I was living with Mitch when I took over as head teacher and had to train and orientate the first group of new teachers. As I made dinner for everyone, Mitch cleaned the house. And then, while I sat in the living room and talked about lesson plans, Mitch made coffee. And washed dishes. And then later he called those new teachers to make sure they were doing OK, and he showed them where to get drunk and get coffee. He never got any credit for it, but he was such a vital part of how well everyone did this semester. And all of that is really, really important when you've got a close-knit small group of teachers like we do. That's, like, what he does all the time.

    I love him. But more importantly, Juicebox** loves him. And that's what really counts.

    *He does whine a lot though when it comes to dancing. I've never known anyone as whiney about dancing as Mitch. That said, he's come with me enough times to Pool Bar to reach sainthood for someone who whines about it as much as he does.

    **Juicebox is a cat. Mitch named her. She's brought a new meaning to all of our lives. “Holla, JB.”