FONDLED BY THAI MEN…

I just spent the last week in an emergency response-training course (now half way through) with only Thai participants. I voiced fears earlier about not talking with anyone, and while that’s happened the Thais have done everything they can to communicate. However given they speak about 20 words of English and I 5 of Thai it hasn’t got too far. What’s been interesting is that they’ve been both welcoming and making me the butt of the jokes – a difficult combination that they manage to pull off simultaneously. And I do mean simultaneously, not alternatively.

The sessions are a combination of lessons and practical sessions. I initially found it challenging being in such a tactile environment compared to what I’m used to, but have gotten used to it. Exactly why the physical check of a patient needs to involve checking the buttocks for injury I’m not sure – I doubt there’s any vital organs there.

On my first day I was writing notes in class, and felt people looking over my shoulder. They were intrigued to see me writing English, and with the help of the interpreter I learnt that it was the fluidity of the language that was compelling. Thai involves very separate characters with several strokes so each letter is an effort in itself, especially compared to English with its loops and joined letters.

The others are staying at the training centre and each day begins with a jog, talk from their supervisor, and a flag raising ceremony at which the sing the anthem. I was planning on staying at the centre until I couldn’t roll out of bed just prior to the classes. I still find it surprising to see them singing the anthem as the flag’s raised, though that’s just my Australian cynicism coming through. I watched the ceremony the other day while listening to Tom Waits on my Discman (believe me, you don’t want to hear them sing the anthem). It was great to think they were raising the flag singing “…They all jump when the hear the sirens, but Romeo just laughs, all the racket in the world, ain’t gonna save that coppers ass…”

Thais have an alternative annual calendar to the standard BC/AD variety, and as such our lessons are currently being conduct in October 48. It looked really strange seeing the date of the lesson given as 27/10/48. I can’t remember from my Thai history lesson what happened in 1957 (it was a political event), but will report back.
On Friday the taxi driver I got got lost. I gave him the address written in Thai, he asked other drivers directions, he still got lost. I told him to turn around, gave him directions, pointed out the street, he still got lost. He stopped the cab under instruction, I yelled, he asked for payment, he got some pay, the door got slammed. I got another cab. Angry, and slightly out of pocket, I got to the training just before start. Grumpy, with dark clouds circling, but with my everything’s-wonderful-in-Thailand smile plastered on, I walked into the meeting room. The participants were having a spontaneous concert with drums, tambourines and cymbals they’d got from somewhere. One of them was signing (they love karaoke). It took at 12 secs for my fake smile to become a real one, 20 secs for the taxi driver to be for gotten, and 25 secs for me to leave the room to find something else to do until class started. It cheered me up, but they were still really, really bad.

One final thing, and while I know it’s not fair, we studied “Anatomy and fishology of the body” on Thursday. Heh, heh, heh.