Editor,
The Handbook for International Staff provided to me by
Payap University states, “You have traveled to a different country full of
new and different [experiences]. At first you will probably feel like a
tourist enjoying all these new things, full of energy to see it all. After a
few weeks, however, you may find yourself with less energy and enthusiasm.
You may feel disoriented as new things change from exciting to strange and
different. This disorientation is called culture shock. It is a natural
phenomenon and will pass quickly.”
According to that, I’m right on schedule. Now that work
has started and I’m settling down to my new life and its busy routine, I
seem to have entered the first stage of culture shock. That’s when you
feel less energetic, keep wondering what’s going on at home, and make a
lot of comparisons between your new life and your old one.
Actually, I seem to be on the cusp of Stage One and Stage
Two. In Stage Two, apparently, you feel sleepy, perpetually hungry, and
somewhat withdrawn. I’m not too hungry yet, but I have a growing affection
for my bed and I declined an invitation to dinner this weekend. Most
significantly in Stage Two, “you may find yourself getting irritated over
minor things” and “being critical because Thais do not do things the way
you do them, when your way is obviously better.”
Here are some of the minor things making me just a tad
irritable and/or critical these days. In the first place, why doesn’t
anyone here speak just a modicum of English? Aren’t they required to study
English in school? (The answer is yes, but it seems not to have made a bit
of difference.) Couldn’t they at least make the signs bilingual?
Why don’t drivers ever stop for pedestrians, and why
don’t those bloody motorbikes stay in the left lane especially designated
for them? For that matter, why can’t they drive on the right side of the
road like every other civilized country (with all due respect to friends and
family in the UK)? Every time I get in my car I feel like an expatriate
accident waiting to happen. Motorbikes zooming everywhere and not a helmet
in sight!
Why can’t people stop implying that if I can’t take
the heat I should get out of the country before March/April when summer
comes? Don’t they know that you never tell a menopausal woman she
shouldn’t feel quite so hot?
Why can’t there be fewer mosquitoes, or more geckos -
those cute little household lizards - to eat them (but preferably not on the
roll of toilet paper just as you are about to use it)? And why can’t those
geckos shut up at night? Don’t they ever sleep?
I’ll be glad to get to Stage Three. According to the
handbook, that’s when “you can decide to end culture shock” because
“you realize you are a foreigner spending a short portion of your life in
Thailand, you are not Thai and do not have to act just like they do.”
Oh yeah? Then how come I have to sign in and out of the
university every day and wear skirts to teach? Why do I have to be so
careful never to touch the head of my neighbor’s baby and always to remove
my shoes before entering a home or office? Why am I never supposed to
display emotion?
Mai pen rai. Never mind. I will keep jai yen, a cool
heart, and learn patience. I will keep my perspective, stay open-minded, and
realize that I represent the stereotypical farang, or foreigner, as my
trusty handbook advises. I will “evaluate expectations” and “take the
initiative,” although I can’t promise to “learn the language.”
In the meantime, can someone please send me ice, a Thai
translator, and a first aid kit for my car? Hapun-KA!
Elayne Clift,
(Spending a year teaching at Payap University in Chiang
Mai)
