Southern Thailand

After leaving Phuket, we headed north toward Surithani. The incredibly dramatic rock formations left me in awe of my surrounds as we continued north. Once again we met some incredible people who were happy to help us on our journey offering us a place to stay for the night.

Hannah, Gemma and myself were invited to teach at an English camp for three days in Southern Thailand. We were drafted through a friend of a friend and had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Here is an account in the midst of it all:

A few weeks after arriving in Thailand, I found myself on a bus being bombarded by intrusive, loud and distinctly Thai karaoke. For relief, I retreated to my laptop, put some distinctly Australian Crowded House on (as loud as possible) to drown out the midi sounds and bag singing.

Like many things on this journey, my expectations had created a false reality that only ever existed in my head. The camp was nothing like I’d imagined an English camp to be. There was very little sport, less singing and dancing and not even one campfire or marshmallow. Through these experiences on the expedition, I am slowly realising that building expectation is, in itself, a form of delusion that is my own creation – madness unmasked. I’m slowly learning to not to build these false expectations but to simply live in the moment accepting things, events and people as they are, not what I would like them to be.

As I sat on the bus heading back, I realised it had been an incredibly difficult few days. Not only could the students not speak conversational English, but getting them to talk felt like pulling teeth. Speaking a simplified broken English produced dead stares and the odd look of boredom. Everything I’d planned to talk about, the expedition, sustainability, the environment and use this to teach, went out the window along with the English educational component of the camp. I had to change and adapt at a moment’s notice.

It was a five hour bus ride to the camp and, once sightseeing was included, it was more like eight hours on the bus each day listening to Thai students sing karaoke at rock concert levels. At one stage the bus was shaking up and down as the students turned it into a mobile disco. I joined in every now and then, but couldn’t keep up the pace. I could only catch a few minutes of sleep here and there over the noise. The camp itself was more like a hotel and I felt every bit the tourist.

The teachers themselves appeared more like entertainers. They spoke in Thai to the students and had no intention of teaching the whole weekend. I wondered, apart from getting away for the weekend, what was the purpose of it all. My whole teaching ‘plan’ (if you could call it that) was based around having access to a projector, but it never turned up. Initially I signed on for the opportunity to talk to some students, two hours a night for three nights. It turned out the teachers at the school were expecting entertainers first and an English teacher second (of which I was neither one) and what they got was a adventurer who only owned one change of teacher-like clothes all weekend. I think I carried more novelty value than teacher value.

I became angry, frustrated, annoyed, felt uncomfortable and bemused at various times throughout the weekend. In all honesty, it was a unique experience as I remembered to smile and let it all go. None of the resources promised turned up. We were expected to sing, dance and entertain 120 students all weekend. Were we supposed to teach English all day while the real teachers looked on? The most important lesson of all was learning to smile in the face of it all. Nothing went to plan, Hannah came down with the flu becoming tired and irritable and Gemma and I were left to entertain. Thankfully Gemma’s endless enthusiasm shined brightly and got us through the day.

The hardest part about the whole weekend was the lack of honesty. We’d been talked up as teachers by our contact, but I was certain the teachers saw straight through the charade. It was insightful as I learned this Asian trait of saving face – not getting angry at people or telling them how you actually feel. Everybody had expectations that were far from the reality of the weekend and it could have easily been cleared up had we been open and honest.

Struggling through the weekend, I learnt a lot about myself. I realised that teaching wasn’t for me, that the cultural divide was, at times, much to wide to bridge in a short space of time. I sang songs from my childhood once again, played ‘Simon Says’ for the first time in years and tried very hard to maintain endless enthusiasm like the Wiggles. It was draining and tiring and, through it all, I think I secretly liked being well outside my comfort zone (as if cycling around the world in strange countries wasn’t enough). Shaming students appeared to be part of Thai culture and, as I thought about it, I realised that being embarrassed is purely a cultural stigma. In Thai culture it’s not rude if somebody calls you fat. Thai people don’t get embarrassed getting up on stage to sing and dance, but feel embarrassed speaking anything other than perfect English. It was a great eye-opener into Thai culture and an opportunity to learn.

I’m looking forward to finding the quiet space on my bike again, getting back to the slow life and the surrounding natural environment – my refuge.