One month milestone now on the horizon and am still idiotically leaving windows open during the night. Consequently, arms now look like those of a needle enthusiast. Don’t seem to be a problem during the day, but at night these insectile vampires are thirstier than Dracula, buzzing round, burrowing proboscises into prone skin, exsanguinating at will. Am writing this entry in a state of incessant itchiness, and I think its past due to invest in one of those tennis racquets.
So, how doth the teaching go?
Well, without wanting to sound conceited, one can’t help but feel that to nurture and polish ones teaching skills in a private language school, one must accept that it’ll likely be a very protracted process. Okay, there is the odd complex neurone-engaging lesson, but these are few and far between. Breaking the monotony of what I now term “Babysitting Lessons” usually comes in the form of teaching Conversational English, and although never trained in this discipline, these do tend to be quite rewarding, a benefit owned to a more mature age range (14 to 50) and lessons being on a one-to-one basis. English grammar has been drilled into these individuals for years, always by native Thais, and even mentioning the word “grammar” tends to elicit a subtle, irritable tick. Can’t say it’s unwarranted either, because though Thai teachers may have a decent enough grounding in our syntactical structure, they’re often lacking in matters of pronunciation. This assumption is defended by the fact that I’ve reverted to introducing myself to my Thai counterparts by my infantile name – Billy (Bi-lee). Before this, I’d been addressed by the following: Birr; Biw; and (rather unflatteringly) Bin. Thais can’t pronounce an ‘l’ at the end of a syllable, but can easily do so at the beginning (try it yourself and you’ll notice the difference in tongue movement) hence Bi-lee is easy for them to pronounce, whereas ‘Bill’ just sounds garbled. Have hit similar roadblocks during my travels into Thai language territory. More on this shortly.
So, Conversational English with native speakers, the preferred choice of lesson for teens upwards. Chewing the fat with a stranger for two hours would seem like a picnic in the park, but especially if, like me, you are not the loquacious type) two hours is a long time. Multiply this by three sessions a week, for several weeks on the trot, and you’re soon accruing a huge amount of talk time – Christ probably more time than I’ve spent chatting to my own mother over the past decade! Okay, you probably flesh the lessons out with constant drilling of pronunciation and correct sentence formation, but what the hell do you talk about for all that time? Thais are very passive in these settings, so it’s up to you to come up with the goods,and any awkward silence (thankfully there haven’t been any so far) is ultimately construed as failure on your part.
However, there is a big facet of Thai perception that does – albeit in a seemingly roundabout way – mitigate this expectation. All farang teachers, no matter where they work, must be clean cut and immaculately attired. Anything less would likely be considered insulting (to this end have had to splash out and fill my wardrobe, procure iron and board, shave every morning – chores) Thus there’s this sense of superficiality that places more emphasis on you looking the part (Thais also expect farang teachers to be blond haired and blue- eyed, which I’m not a million miles away from) than actually playing the part. Sound bizarre I know, but is readily evident in the difference in reception one gets when one strolls about town in Tshirt and shorts, and when ones booted and suited. Am trying (and hopefully succeeding) in both capacities.
?Here it’s worth noting that when trying to purchase formal attire, any farang should take into consideration the disparity of build between themselves and the natives. It’s big. The largest size waist I found for a decent set of suit trousers was 31 inch They fit, though are still a little snug around the midriff – if I hadn’t done a few months hard labour on the beer gut before hitting Heathrow I’d be up shit creek without a paddle.
Another glaring difference between the East and West is that over here it’s socially acceptable to be anywhere up to half an hour late, whereas back home it’s socially acceptable to be ten or fifteen minutes early. Lessons, therefore, never start on time, and even if you get rolling at ten past, you can still count on further disruption courtesy of the ultra-tardy stragglers.
Will I see my contract through and stick this out for a year? Probably, because despite its shortcomings, this is all pretty standard for a private language school and I do need to clock up some experience. Isn’t something I’ll have to resign myself to long-term however. There are more promising avenues for half decent English Language teachers to venture down. Not wanting to bore the reader, will quickly gloss over the alternatives:
Government schools: Secondary schools to you and me, where teachers generally get a better salary, get weekends off (mine are currently jam packed from 9 till 7) and a whopping three months paid holiday per year. Not to be sniffed at.
Universities: Bangkok has over ten of them and you certainly don’t need to wave a doctorate about to get considered for employment. Though not as lucrative as International Schools, positions are more highly revered. Flash your Uni ID badge to the Old Bill for being a pissed up sex tourist and they salute you, apologise, and send you on your way. Or so I’ve been told.
Private Tuition. English teachers often do this on the side, charging up to a 1000 baht (20 quid) per hour. Handy for extra pocket money.
Obviously, tripping over the doorframe to get a foot in (as was the case with ECC) won’t work with these kind of gigs; one would need the surefootedness of an ibex, be experienced, and be able to act the part as well as look it. Nevertheless, once my current contract has been fulfilled, confidently getting a solid foot in the door of one of the aforementioned establishments will be the next step.
But back to here and now. Am currently residing in the suburbs (Lad Prao). Huge malls and shopping districts still dominate the skyline, but farang faces and English translations have become a seldom occurrence. Was initially cocooned by a sense of isolation each time I left the apartment building, the feeling ushering in a not-to-be-expected homesickness was dissolved once I reached the school. Have since thrown myself into as many extracurricular activities as possible and anything now feels a lot more normal.
Had my first lesson at a local Thai language school for foreigners. The facilities left a lot to be admired, but the owner, who’d lived with an English family in Newcastle for the better part of two decades, soon made me feel right at home. More than that in fact, she was so welcoming, and almost concerned by my naivety, that she promised, “If you ever have a problem, if it’s with a girl or anything else, then you come to me and I’ll sort it out. I know the police. “Probably it was the kindness she was shown in England, possibly it was the fact that I was a new customer, but I like to believe (and have mentioned this before) that Thais are just innately good people, friendly and nice...and, when it comes to the authorities, often corrupt. At four hours though, the lesson was pretty brutal, and though my Thai is definitely improving, have got a hell of a long way to go. Just to get the tones right (and there are five of them!) one needs to have a certain musical quality in their voice, and I most definitely have never been choir material. Good shoe-on-the-other-foot experience and can now sympathize with some of my students when they stare at me with vacant, confused expressions.
Manned a major exploration into the local area and soon discovered Chatuchak Park – a huge public space during the weekday; one of the biggest open markets in South-East Asia during the weekend. Attempted to jog around its 5km perimeter and soon realised why I was getting such strange looks from the locals; white T-shirt was grey before I’d even reached the halfway mark, unrealistic 500ml bottle of water was long depleted, and probably looked like some hapless, Sahara-traversing, mirage-seeing, lunatic. Now try to make the run every other day with various degrees of success.
Also joined a pool team at a British run bar in Central Bangkok called The Sportsman (old habits die hard) and met some really nice English ex-pats.
Went out for some drinks with a fellow teacher one evening, and a meal with the Thai receptionists at work on another. All really nice people.
Now that routine has set in, this blog will likely become rather tedious (if it hasn’t already) to any readers still willing to waste a bit of their life. In an effort to maintain a certain freshness am going to season this (and future entries) with the odd smattering of Thai culture, so that maybe the untravelled reader can get a better gist of the place.
Talking of seasoning. Thais use it with reckless abandon (or so it first seemed,) so let’s head away from the language district of Thai culture (something I’ve been waxing lyrical on till the cows come home) and venture down a different avenue, perhaps towards Victory Monument, one of the main sanctuaries for street food lovers in Bangkok.
Thai food is the fastest international growing cuisine in the UK. And I can see why. Loved my first Pad Thai; have chowed down at least one daily since dropping anchor. A harmonious balance of salty, sweet, spicy and sour, together with some noodles, meat and veg. Simple, healthy and damn tasty and at under a quid for a decent plate of nosh- from the ever- present, wok-brandishing street vendor, that is, criminally cheap. Did once succumb to the nostalgia of my Western food palate only to end up gristle-chewing my way through a vastly overdone, unreasonably overpriced, bad cut of steak. That did it for me. Though their culinary prowess in the realms of Western cuisine has been found wanting – and not surprising (how many of us cook up an authentic Thai curry?)- their native dishes just cannot be faulted. In a recent poll, World’s 50 most delicious foods, Pad Thai was ranked #5, and that’s just one dish, a small tip of the Titanic-foundering iceberg. The only obstacle facing this Thai-cuisine-loving blogger is that his chopstick skills are as clumsy as a bull in a china shop. Should make an effort to remedy this, Food for thought.
Have been writing for hours, and with back to back lessons all day on the docket for tomorrow, am gonna hit the hay, sleep tight, and hope the mosquitoes don’t come back to bite.