Not sure? Neither am I.
Our tale starts off on Monday, August 17th 2008 at 7:15 am.
[Cue loud music.. and a woman's voice loudly being played from a tape player over a speaker system]
I wake up to the sound of the feeding of the monks [which has become quite normal to me as the same music plays and the same woman's voice is played across the sound system in every city I have stayed in] and though I wish I could go back to sleep I know I can't because a. It's too much of a racket that it would be virtually impossible even if I tried and b. I realise I have slept through my alarm which was supposed to wake me up at 6 because I have to be at school for 8. Wonderful. I have less than 45 minutes to get ready for my first day of school, a speech in front of the WHOLE school and my first lessons. Great. Just peachey. I have a shower, get dressed in my hysterical uniform [which oddly enough I have come to enjoy and ironed (MYSELF!) the previous day], pack my bag, take out all my jewellery [jewellery would be a big "NO" in Thai schools] and clip back my hair [hair in front of your face is also a big "NO"] in record breaking time. I came bolting downstairs when my mom reminded me that I forgot my belt; so I bolted back up the four flights of stairs to my room, grabbed the wretched thing and ran back down. I was like lightning, Superman almost. When I finally sat down at the breakfast table I was given a heaping pile of sticky rice and pork. Just the thing you want to eat when you are panting, exhausted and boiling in the humidity. I tried to force down a few mouthfuls to be polite, but apparently my host parents don't know what "Mai hiyu [not hungry]" means. Then I realised I left my pens and pencils upstairs so I ran back up the four flights of stairs, grabbed THOSE wretched things and ran back down again. By now, I wasn't feeling at all the greatest and I was handed an apple and some milk... in a juice box. Then after patiently waiting while my mother fiddled with my shirt [untucking it, twisting it, retucking it, untucking it again and patting it down], my belt [tightening it, untightening it, turning it around, clipping it to my skirt], my skirt [twisting it, patting it down, pulling it down] and my hair [clipping it, pushing it out of my face (I can't help that I have bangs that refuse to stay in a bobby pin), reclipping it and pulling a comb through it]... we were ready to go. And we were late.
We arrived at the school and my mom had to go into the school to sign in so she left me in the car with the windows rolled up, my apple and my milk in a juice box. Now I don't know if YOU'VE ever gone through a similar situation so let's make this visual.
Hot weather [36 degrees Celsius] + Humidity + Car windows rolled up + Exhaustion + Forced heavy meal + Nervousness + Excitement = not a happy camper.. or healthy for that matter.
I really needed a drink and after waiting in the car for over 10 minutes I decided the best thing to do would probably be to have some of my apple.. maybe the nausea I was feeling was because I hadn't eaten much. Not such a good idea, and so I untucked my shirt and propped the door open a little bit. I wanted to tell my mom that we needed to go home because I felt sick but right at that moment she came over and told me we had to go meet the director. So I got out of the car and then realized that my shirt was still untucked so I started to tuck it back in when she looked at me with such a look of horror and rushed over to fix it for me. I won't say how frustrated and grumpy with this I was because it would make this story [and myself] much less appealing so I'll just skip to where I met the director [with one of my buttons undone, my shirt not as neatly tucked in as my mother would have hoped and beads of sweat forming all over my forehead, neck, back, nose etc.] and about 800 other teachers whose names I won't remember because even in English it would be impossible. Thai is worse; you have to try to remember names that use sounds your mouth has never made before and that are SO LONG [Because it is impolite to address a teacher by their nickname]. All the while the sun beat down, the humidity rose and students were staring as if I was an exhibit in the zoo. I didn’t really mind it though, it feels nice being some sort of a “celebrity”. After meeting with the MC we waited outside while all the students lined up in rows and rows on the blacktop; they were a sea of colour and excited faces. There are different uniforms for boys and girls [that’s just a given] , but there are also different uniforms for different grades. This means that high school students have a different uniform than the junior high school students. Then there are two different types of each uniform: athletic and general. So as I looked out into that sea of Thai students who were all excited for my arrival [staring, quite a bit] a rainbow of colour awaited my eyes. Pink for the sports uniforms of the girls, blue for the sports uniforms of the boys. A different blue for the general uniforms of the high school students, brown for the uniform of the younger boys. White shoes, brown shoes, black shoes… and all the teachers were wearing yellow t-shirts to respect the King’s birthday [Every Monday]. Of course, I didn’t really have all that time to focus on the colours because something else fascinated me a million times over. They were in perfectly straight lines organized by their grade and their uniform colour. They were all singing the national anthem. Every. Single. One. They were all chanting and praying with their hands up in a Wai. It was beautiful. Not like the scenery or the silk fabrics you find in so many shops, but it really made me feel as if I were a part of this country and its beliefs. Then the director came up to do his morning assembly speech and all the students sat down. Before I knew it I was running into the bathroom and was sick in the sink. It doesn’t sound very nice, and it wasn’t but I’m not very embarrassed anymore because practically everyone in the city seems to know about it. My mother was the only person there, so either there was a spy, or my mom told someone and word spreads quickly. Either way I felt much better afterwards and after cleaning up [and spraying my shirt with water in the process] my host mother walked me out to say my speech.
I was anything but perfect: I had mascara stains under my eyes, my hair was stuck to my face from all the sweat, my shirt was soaked through and I was only wearing a bra underneath. [This didn’t seem like such a problem when I had woken up. I hadn’t expected to be entering a wet t-shirt contest anytime that day]. My shoes were scuffed, my t-shirt was untucked and my belt was off center. It was a wonderful ensemble I must say and I was happily surprised when none of the students laughed at me, but gasped as I walked onto the stage. I was handed two gifts [I found out after they were notebooks and a sports uniform… the bubblegum pink one] and a bouquet of roses. I was introduced and then I had to say a few words in Thai. This is what I said:
Hello, My name is Emma. My name is Kulap. I am seventeen years old. I have three sisters. I have three cats. I’m from Canada. Excited. Happy. Thailand beautiful. Nakhon Phanom beautiful.
Sounds pretty stupid eh? Well it was… but I think just the fact that I was speaking Thai was enough for them; they cheered for the celebrity on stage louder than any other speech I’ve heard combined. Their faces lit up with smiles and they absolutely had a fit of laughter and giggles when I waied to the crowd with my Hello. Now wherever I go on the campus, whether I am with teachers or not I am greeted with smiles and more affection than anyone at MM Robinson High school has ever given me, combined. When I walk around with Thai friends we will be stopped in the hallway with crowds of people all asking my Thai friend to introduce them to me. As I walk through the courtyard people yell out "HELLO! I LOVE YOU! BEAUTIFUL! SA WAD DEE KA!" The younger children seem to be somewhere between terrified of me and in awe, they can never look me in the eye and turn crimson when I say hello.
Girls show up to escort me to classes so that I don't get lost in the University sized campus. They tell me I am pretty and if the cannot speak English they ask one of their friends who can to ask me questions. All the students offer to share their textbooks and notebooks with me [though I can't read a single word] and when they see that I am being introduced to someone a flock of people run over to get their names mentioned. The Thai students stand outside my classrooms and watch me, or watch me practicing Thai dance. They laugh when I make a mistake and correct me, and when I say something correct in Thai they beam with happiness and practically have a field day. They watch me when I wai the teachers and marvel at my polite manner with my elders [polite conduct was drilled into me like a nail my first two weeks]. Boys tell me I'm beautiful and that they love me... Girls tell me that I'm beautiful and that they like my hair. [Having blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes makes you a real knock out in Thailand, it's not too much to feel proud of]. Everyone here has made an effort to help me learn Thai whether it is correcting my speech, teaching me the word for "circle" or teaching me the Thai alphabet. It sounds vain and conceited saying this but I do love the attention I get here. I feel like I'm friends with everyone, even if I haven't met them. I have a special connection with every student and I can smile at any of them and they won't look at me like I'm a huge loser. I was afraid it would be hard for me to make friends with the language barrier but there are people flooding from all over the school to join in games that I play with my friends. We play different games from throwing wierd star things in the air to English word games to practice the names of the animals. We play hangman, badminton and some other English word game that I would love to play in Thai but I don't have the vocabulary for yet. And then there are the boys. They hang over the railings on the top floors of the buildings and catcall, hoot, holler and cheer at me as I walk by. Many of them never pluck up the courage to speak to me but when one does and I answer them they slap each other on the back with congratulations. Many of the boys have already proclaimed their love for me and I don't know their names. Some of them follow me around, some of them are too shy to say "Hello" back to me when I greet them and instead they run away blushing and whispering with their friends. Some of them stop to watch my play badminton in gym or stand outside the English department when I am learning Thai. I once asked a boy to show me where the library was and as he led me there his schoolmates cheered for him from upstairs as if he had won a prize. I almost don't want to stop and talk to them in case they think I am enticed by their catcalls. Then there are the boys who act like crazy wild animals to get my attention; they run around the room, they shout my name, they ask me random questions, they push and shove to be introduced by Noo my English speaking Thai friend. One boy even wrote "I love you Kulap" on the board while he was in the middle of writing his math equation. They even wave to me and look outside of school when I'm sitting on the sidewalk drinking bubble tea with my friends. It feels so different being the centre of attention, but it is settling in a way to know that I'm not the weird blonde kid, but the "Cool" blonde kid.
So to answer my previous question:
“What would you do to get a blonde foreigner dressed in a knee length skirt, school girl leather shoes, high white socks and a frumpy blouse to notice you?”
The Thai boys would say “Jump around, hoot and holler and attract as much attention to yourself as you can, at some point she’s got to talk to you.” I haven’t yet… but I do laugh and smile until my face hurts.
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But I will tell you what the Thai boys do. 
1 comment:
that's crazy, that would get me annoyed fast ...
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