Per this mock case study, I've recounted the the following evidential circumstance, a real-life experience that is one of many that I frequently meet with a bewilderment.
Teacher's Day, a few weekends ago. Linnea and I unknowingly forfeited our entire Saturday to (her) playing in a teacher volleyball tourney and (me) sitting in the shade, watching both the tourney and a troupe of Thai teachers pound on drums and dance around in cowboy costumes as “cheerleaders.”
We arrived at 10:30am after our school's van drove us, along with five other Thai teachers, to our destination. I'd like to note that though the drive was a mere 35 minutes, K-Pop karaoke was turned all the way up and the Thai teachers were bouncing around the van, singing and laughing like banshees, and inviting us to join in the fun that they apparently don't seem to get much of during the week. And I mean that – these teachers seem SO serious at school in their uniforms, with their rulers in their hands, and their deep, disciplinarian voices. And their hair in buns, obvi. Seeing them act like tweeny boppers at a Jonas Brothers concert was like watching some twisted rendition of “Girls Gone Wild – the PG/Thai Teacher Version.” I sat in the back but was unsure whether I should be more overwhelmed by the volume of the music or that of the high-pitched teachers' voices...
The day was how you'd imagine a volleyball tournament to be. It wrapped up at 5pm when our school lost to another team (second place, not too shabby!). Then, we were informed that the banquet (“What banquet?!”) would begin in an hour. From 6pm-10:30pm, we sat amidst a sea of linen-covered-tables in the courtyard of a Christian-Thai school, surrounded by Thai teachers who promptly whipped out their Spy wine coolers, beers, and, of course, Thai whisky – the effects of which were horrendously obvious a few hours later. For example, one Thai male teacher was so drunk that he stumbled over to Linnea and wouldn't stop staring at her/whiteness, or commenting on how she is farang, or asking her to dance, or continually and almost-violently offering her a lone peanut that he had been clutching in his sweaty palm. Gross. I was starting to get squeamish with his obnoxious behavior, but I couldn't really show it because all the other Thai teachers laughed at his childish antics with such genuine heart – not like the awkward chuckles that we were giving him.
Sigh. And then one of the teachers at our school, who is the mother of a 6th grader, proceeded to dance atop her chair for a good half of the song that some other teacher was karaoke-ing (of course) on stage. I wish my internet was better so I could upload the video I took of her, but imagine, in a banquet arena consisting of probably 200 people, a single teacher teetering on top of her chair, wildly pumping her fists in the air, head banging and thrashing her black hair around, and drunkenly slurring a song quite loudly, all the while spitting on me (because I of course got to sit right next to her...er, under her). I was a little taken aback. Why? Well, NO AMERICAN TEACHER WOULD EVER DO THAT. Not in a million years. S/he would be the first on the PTSA Blacklist, or something like that. It was so bizarre.
Oh, there were some other moments of immaturity (by Western standards). Like when L and I ate three bowls of this noodle dish, which was one of ten courses that was actually not spicy and pretty tasty, and one of the teachers looked me very seriously in the eyes and told me to “Sah-top eating. Sah-top eating.” No smile. No hint of it being a joke. Just judgement, seething across the table. Stop eating. I was told to stop eating. Ummmmmm..no. I quite enjoyed my food, so with a seemingly oblivious smile and a hearty laugh, I indeed continued on with my culinary escapade.
We played some form of musical chairs at the front of the stage, and I was convinced that these Thai adults are really just Thai children trapped in older bodies. These are games I play in my classrooms! Meanwhile, I was also wondering how on earth all of these teachers had been celebrating themselves for 12 hours. 10:30am until 10:30pm. We were just perplexed as to whether they had such things as, oh, family, or commitments back at home. I can't imagine any American person I know giving up a full day (never mind that this day was on a weekend!) to celebrate his/her profession.
So the day was long but amusing. I plopped down on my bed with my ears still ringing – you guessed it, karaoke on full-blast on the van ride home.
Prior to this experience, I had noted this culture of cuteness that Thais of all ages seem to emit, like the group of Thai women (Always in groups, by the way. They don't like doing anything by themselves.) who sat on our boat to Koh Samet the other weekend with their cowboy hats on, sucking on lollipops. I believe they were Chuppa Chubs – they're sold everywhere. I haven't had a Chuppa Chub since 5th grade (although admittedly I bought one at 7-11 the other day; perhaps I was trying to assimilate into the culture more haha)!
I suppose in Thailand, the aphorism “Youth is wasted on the young” doesn't hold true. The adults here, mainly the women whom I've observed, giggle and laugh as if they were teenagers, smile a lot, go shopping in groups, and, at the minimum, simply LOOK young. It's incredible how youthful these women look; on multiple occasions, I've mistaken mothers for teenagers (they are stick thin!)! Anyway, this perpetual state of juvenescence, I've determined, can be attributed to either their Buddhist beliefs of acceptance, which yield tolerance of such behavior, and/or the Thai attitude of “Mai Pen Rai,” which means “don't worry about it” or “hakuna matata.” Either way, being in this kind of environment has been a 180 shift from serious, career-driven Americans back at home. It's a whole new world. We could learn a thing or two...on second thought, maybe just a thing.
Stay tuned for Thai love stories. It's a hoot.
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