The Importance of Being Happy

After one month in Thailand I’ve had some time to grow somewhat acquainted with the Thai cultural mindset. One outstanding aspect is the importance that many Thai’s place on emotions. In my experience, most Thais will not openly tell you if they are disappointed. However, if something makes them happy you will definitely know about it.

This goes beyond social pleasantries. During sponsor visits to villages, Village chiefs would often make a point of saying how happy the visit made him. This seemed be more than just “thank you for coming” or “I’m glad you could make it”. Translations ran more along the lines of “He’s glad that you came because your visit makes him very happy”. Apparently, no further justification for the visit was necessary.

I saw the same thing when I taught English at Baan Huay Sala School. The head English teacher was very concerned that our lesions “make the children happy”. Whether or not they actually learned something seemed to be a secondary consideration.

Admittedly, the English teacher could have been assuming that the children would learn. After all, the term lesson implies that learning will occur. The teacher also taught those children in the past; in Thailand, seeing is believing. Many rural Thais won’t invest in a new enterprise until they see that it works for their friends. The village chiefs may have taken it for granted that a donor would want to see the village he was sponsoring. Maybe, the sponsor’s main reason for visiting didn’t require mentioning.  

 Perhaps I've just gotten used to the Slavic world, where complaining is the order of the day. The Thai way might not be bad at all when you think about it. After all, who doesn't want to be happy, right?  

Going to School

 Four summers ago, I was working as a business reporter for Television Maldives. From time to time, people would stop me and tell me that they liked my reports, or ask for my autograph. I thought this was understandable. I was the first westerner to report for that country’s national broadcaster.

Four years later, I visited the Baan Huay Sala School in north-east Thailand. In one class, a girl of about 16 asked an intern who spoke Thai if she could have my autograph. Her entire class followed suit. They wouldn't let me leave until I’d signed all of their notebooks.   

The next morning we learned that we’d be teaching English at the same school on Friday. Other interns teased me about my return, but I was worried. I’d never taught English before. I didn’t know if I could get a class of notoriously shy Thai middle-schoolers talking in a foreign language.

This turned out to be no problem. My first class really got into the game.  Each of the remaining three rotations was different, but we all had a blast.  My second class was the one I’d met on my first day.  I quickly realized they’d copied the answers from their friends during lunch, so I started taking other countries from the top of my head. At first they were pissed, but later they not only looked at me with interest, but also with respect. We had a 15 min photo-opp after class; a few of the girls asked for my number in halting English.  

I was only really with the students for one day. But we had some time to bond. I don’t really know most of them, but we had our own in-jokes by the end of the day. At the closing ceremony, I was called on to say a few words. I thanked them and told them that they’d also had an impact on me. Then I turned to my last, best and most difficult class. “May Choi” (I’m out), I yelled in their local dialect. We had our own laugh.

Before I left, I think I signed each one of their workbooks, nametags, or even random pieces of paper. When they let me go from the final picture, I headed for the headmaster’s car. I sat down and gave what I’d learned was Thai had sign of friendship. I shut the door on the sound of cheers.

The headmaster drove us to a karaoke restaurant where the teachers go to unwind. He told us that he would like us to return to the school for an encore sometime this summer. Despite our demanding schedule I hope this is possible.

 I didn’t feel like singing, but the teachers finally cajoled me into it.  I choose to sing “The Impossible Dream”. As my own voice rose with increasing confidence, I could not help but feel that this moment embodied the events of this amazing day.