Have been sharing my sanctum sanctorum with an elusive, yet ever-present, little lizard for the past two days. Each attempt to corner it provokes a nimble evasive maneuver before the wretched thing disappears into crevices into which this hapless housekeeper can only stare broodingly. Am both vexed and bemused by my new roommate. He must’ve scaled five stories to gain ingress via the balcony, and though I’ve left the balcony door open all day, every day, Lizardette refuses to use it. There’s nothing in the way of sustenance in here for him, so why does he stay? Have a working theory that either starvation or dehydration will get the better of him before long and he’ll be easier to ensnare.
Saurian headaches aside, am writing this on a new laptop after the six-year-old relic from home finally gave me the finger. Think it was justified; we had a good innings and had been working it hard, right down to the circuit boards. Would’ve been a nightmare to acquire this replacement had I not managed to (fortuitously) solicit the services of a work colleague who happens to speak fluent Thai (he is in fact trilingual, an accomplishment that makes me feel rather ignorant given that my Thai is still in its foetal stage, and can only dredge up smatterings of French from my school years). With my trusty interpreter at my side, was soon able to procure this new modern machine, which syncs faithfully to my smart phone, thus affording me the opportunity to back up descriptions with photos. Don’t expect anything Ansel Adams-esque though; the sum of my photography skills amount to vaguely pointing the camera in the right direction and pressing the snap button.
The whole transaction also transpired to be a bit of an eye-opener. Went to a nearby shopping mall (Central Lat Prao), one of over a hundred shop-a-holic paradises in Bangkok - yes, it really does have that many. Browsed the computer outlets, myself clueless as a camel who’d inexplicably found itself at the North Pole, my guide as clued-up as (insert bad simile here). Thai salesmen would accost us before we were five steps inside, but my companion’s mastery of Thai soon stopped them in their tracks. ‘Damn this farang for learning Thai,’ I imagined them muttering (in Thai, of course). ‘I was about to pressgang his buddy into splashing out on our most expensive model, thus equating to a hefty commission for yours truly.’ Not only did I get a good price, but Ali, my interpreter, soon brokered a shady, underhand deal whereby Windows 10 and a shed load of cool software were installed for a paltry 500baht (to do this legit would’ve cost considerably more). Thais tend to bend or break the rules if there’s a few extra bob in it for them.
Moving on. Had to scout out the British Embassy last week. Once past the main security gate, was hailed by a fellow countryman on the other side of the courtyard. ‘Good luck mate!’ he bellowed in a kind of sarcastic exasperation before proceeding to tear up some document or another and fling it in the dirt disgustedly. Thinking that my matter would prove to be somewhat more trivial than his, I maintained a positive mindset, though darting out ninety minutes later, feeling thoroughly ripped off and flustered - had less than an hour to get out of Central Bangkok, get home, get showered and suited, and get to my next damned lesson - I could certainly empathise. The reason for my visit was to get my work permit rolling by writing a rather pointless statement declaring that my middle name doesn’t appear on my degree certificate, but that said certificate is in fact mine (and not that other guy’s, William Herbert Humphrey Mitchell). One stamp later and it was a, ‘That’ll be 3500 baht please.’
‘Three and a half grand for this pointless piece of paper!?’ Incredulity filled my voice. Seemed a ludicrous amount (seventy odd quid) and after having to wait half the morning I wasn’t best pleased.
Has since come to light that aliens wanting to set up a colony on the Land of Smiles are now facing more blockades than ever. Thailand itself is the only country in south-east Asia not to have become a colony of some Western nation, and as a result is comparably lacking in its language abilities, namely English. This is something the Thai government wants to redress, which begs the question: ‘Why throw up so many roadblocks for English Teachers in the first place?’ It all seems self-contradictory and is clearly the underlying reason why native English teachers are becoming more of a commodity. Case in point: Two of my co-workers - a Brit and an American - who got their teaching gigs back in the day when degrees weren’t a necessity, can’t legally continue unless they use one of the backdoors in the system (ie. marry a Thai or throw a lot of money at the right person).
Mai pen rai is a saying so often used that it’s generally regarded as Thailand’s national phrase. In its various translations, it epitomises their placid, non-confrontational ethos: Never mind; It doesn’t matter; Don’t worry about things you can’t do anything about. Guess I better subscribe to this philosophy because I can bitch and moan about the system, but ultimately can do nothing about it. Mai pen rai, Bi-lee old pal, mai pen rai.
At present my schedule is a punishing one, affording me only one full day of freedom each week (much of which is spent prepping lessons for the next six day slog), a fact to which this rather overdue entry stands testament. Another thing nagging me is that all the student’s text books are in American English as opposed to British English. Thus I have to teach closet, elevator, and - my pet hate - pants, in place of wardrobe, lift, and trousers. Have been working like a Trojan, and am generally feeling pretty burnt out, but hey, mai pen rai.
Okay, enough bitching, time to draw on the positives.
My standard of teaching and the structure of my lessons have both definitely improved by some margin, making the experience more rewarding for all attendant parties.
My weekly excursions to The Sportsman in Central Bangkok have been a breath of fresh air. Have met loads of fellow Brits (and more than a few Thais) and they’ve all been very welcoming and friendly. Have stayed in contention for a couple of pool tournaments and am playing weekly matches in my new team against other bars around Bangkok.
Had a surprise but very welcome correspondence with my cousin, Josie, who’s being living in Hong Kong for the past few years but was making a short trip to the Big Mango. Hers was the first familiar face I’d seen in six weeks, and together with group a of her Bangkok friends we went for the best Thai meal I’ve eaten so far.
Aside from Ali and Thai receptionists, my fellow teachers tend to be somewhat reserved and set in their ways, and I sometimes wonder about their motives for being in Thailand – the ratio of male to female English teachers is about 10:1, a statistic from which various conclusions can be drawn.
Now for some cultural notes, and it must be said that am soaking up Thai customs less like a sponge and more like a rock. A rather embarrassing illustration of this was when I was out for a run around Chatuchak Park a few days ago. Was halfway around the circuit when I saw, roughly fifty metres ahead, a group of Thais seemingly blocking the path and staring in my direction with what might’ve been disapproval. Had I somehow caused offense? I couldn’t see how, and so continued to try and beat my PB hoping that they would make way. Soon dawned on me that I was the only one running in what felt like a Madam Tussauds version of Chatuchak Park, where all the wax sculptures seemed to be focused on the ignorant, sweaty farang. A rather late conclusion that this was some special time of day for Thais brought me to a sheepish halt, and the flush suffusing my cheeks couldn’t wholly be ascribed to the heat. Have since discovered that in public places, at 6pm every day, the Thai National Hymn is played and everyone stops what they’re doing and stands in silence to show their respect. Would do well to remember this in future.
A few other points to consider. The wai (holding one’s hands together in a praying gesture) is cousin to the Western handshake but used far more frequently. Again, it’s a respect thing, and my students will always wai me, and, trying to be polite, I tend to wai back, though I think it’s unwarranted and only contributes to my ignorance.
Thai Monks. We all recognise that long, flowing orange robe, clasped over one shoulder. They’re a seldom sight but have seen the occasional one gliding across the pavement in serene contemplation. Monks have to remain celibate throughout their lives and can spend up to 18 hours a day meditating – their thoughts presumably never taking a tangent towards the fairer sex. If that’s not dedication then I don’t know what is.
The Land of Smiles it’s called, but the Thai smile has a multitude of meanings hidden behind it, a Smile Code if you will. It’s different incarnations are as follows: I told you so; I admire you; I’m broken hearted; I’m pissed off at you and am gonna get my revenge; I have the upper hand; I disagree with your stupid idea but I’ll go along with it any way; I’m sad; I know I owe you money, but I don’t have it; you can do it!; mai pen rai; I pity your lame joke; I don’t know you and we’re not going to have a conversation. Apparently these are all subtly different, but I’ll be damned if I (or any farang for that matter) know the nuances of the Thai smile.
Okay, enough rambling. I’ll only add that this will be the last entry before my estranged buddy Matt surfaces from down under and makes the swim to Thailand’s shores. Five years ago we were living together in a flat in Bristol. Who would’ve thought he’d soon be departing his home in Brisbane to visit me in my new home in Bangkok. Plans are to paint the town red, jet off to the islands, and have one hell of an awesome time. No matter what crazy shenanigans ensue am going to keep the Thai dictum firmly etched on the inside of my skull, and hope it sees me through.
Mai pen rai.