Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

So, I have this good friend back from the States. When I knew her a few years ago (before I left for Thailand), she was so great. Young, beautiful, bright, energetic, and fun. She worked as one of my assistant’s at my last job in the U.S., and I always stated that she “was the best assistant I ever had.” And I still mean it today.

So, when a few months ago she wrote me, looking for a job, and I just HAPPENED to have an opening, it seemed perfect. In a frenzy of excited emails and lots of paperwork and preparation, the friend arrived! (Let’s just call her “Rory”). I was so excited to see her at the airport, and we talked of things we might do. I found her a little bit more reserved than I’d remembered her, but 1) she was a couple years older now and 2) she’d just got off one of the most hellish things a person can do – fly transcontinentally.

As the days went forward, strange things began to surface. I was a little surprised at her immediate need to be in luxurious western malls, hanging out in Starbucks and downing Dairy Queen on a daily basis (usually you don’t need your “western fix” until a great deal of time has gone by and the veneer of Bangkok begins to rub off). I was also surprised by her insistence that she live in a “foreigner” area. This is Thailand after all, filled with….Thais. Sure, there are a couple foreigner areas, pockets really, and very expensive (the people who live there are often paid Western salaries which enables them to live like emperors and emperoresses here. I didn’t really yearn to be around Westerners until like a year and a half had gone by and I started to fantasize about Mexican food, Barnes & Nobles, and speaking English how I normally would (and not slowed down or dumbed down). I think that’s when I started watching a lot of movies here (something I still enjoy a great deal).

Yet, she was very determined to do certain things like finding a dream apartment, locating a long and beautiful place to walk, and using her new job here to quickly dig herself out of debt. Quickly, I tried to tell her that all three things were a little far-fetched for Bangkok unless you work for the U.S. Embassy, Unocal, or a drug lord.

“There is NO ‘Target’ in Bangkok.”

This my own personal saying, and what it means is this: in Bangkok, there are usually only two tiers to things – really cheap and fairly shitty quality, and super expensive and fantastic quality. The “Target Department Store” genre (cheap to mid-priced items of fair to good quality) is not readily available. I’ve found this annoying myself, especially when it comes to clothes. I am not fat, but I am big (tall with a medium build). Considering most Thai women have narrow shoulders, tiny chests, and could fit their entire body in a shot glass, you can imagine how finding clothes to fit my Nordic frame isn’t so simple. I’ve only found two places to buy clothes easily “off the rack,” and at both of them I spend much more money on something like a t-shirt, than I EVER spent back in the U.S. That’s just the way it is.

Rory had a very difficult time finding her dream apartment (1-bedroom with all the foreigner stuff that are considered treasured amenities here, i.e. a large room, air-con, hot water, pool, work-out room, etc.). Also, she was disappointed by the location of our school (Northwest Bangkok, a bit of a distance from the “foreigner” or “farang” areas which are in the south and southwest part of Bangkok).

Also, she realized (this one surprised me) that she wasn’t going to get rich teaching in Thailand (no one ever does…this isn’t Japan or Korea five years ago!). Admittedly, I have more disposable income than I have EVER had in my life due to the incredibly cheap cost of food and relatively cheap cost of living overall. And, during my three years here, I have JUST managed to pay off all my evil credit cards back in the U.S., and this was with me wiring a very hefty chunk of my paycheck home each month.

Rory was taken around to five apartments in the immediate area (we have long since learned that a teacher living too far from school is a VERY unhappy teacher). Dealing with Bangkok’s early morning traffic can send anyone over the edge. Rory wasn’t too pleased, or couldn’t afford them, and looked further. It became a rabid quest with her, and consumed her day and night, leading to hours on the internet searching out websites, and calling brokers. Luck wasn’t with her, and as the days slowly crept buy, she became increasingly frantic. I didn’t know what to do since we always offer our new teachers the five local apartment complexes and that’s about it. I myself am a teacher, and not an apartment broker, and my limited Thai doesn’t enable me to find out where the good places to live are.

During all of this, I kept urging Rory to come to work. We had an interim course which is basically like a light-hearted summer school course until the next semester begins. This was her chance to teach a no-failure class and get her feet wet before the next semester began and it got real serious. After being denied several days in a row for various reasons (I was being pretty patient, wanting her to be able to do her own thing), finally the final day of interim courses arrived.

I informed her cheerfully that this was “the big day” as I woke her up that morning (she’d been staying with me). She asked what I was talking about, and though a little surprised and annoyed, tried to keep my chipper exterior and remind her that this was the last day to teach. She asked if she could “come later in the afternoon,” and I felt myself sink inside. I felt I had been patient long enough, and had felt quite alarmed at her lack of “get up and go.” She’d always been so take charge back at the previous job. I never had to tell her anything twice, and she worked by herself well. This time, she seemed to grudgingly drag herself from event to event. She informed me that she had a meeting at 10am with the broker again. I firmly asked her to change the appointment. This was the last day and there wasn’t time for her to show up late in the day (most classes are taught before noon). She reluctantly got up, showered, and then came out solemnly in a towel and sat on the couch. After a moment, she said,

“Um, I have something I need to tell you. You may be angry.”

Oh fuck. So many times in Thailand I have had “the talk” (in its various forms) with many people. It is never good, and it’s always dramatic. I waited tensely. I was informed that she really wasn’t going to see the broker, but in fact was scheduled for an interview an ANOTHER school that was paying about 10,000 baht more ($250 USD) a month.

I felt a wave of anger wash over me like rapid lava. I felt my hands begin to shake. I was shocked at how angry I was. I was simply shocked. I had given my FRIEND a job which had made me feel a little weird, but since she was such a good person and such a fantastic worker, I thought I could be fully justified. I had pulled strings to get her here. We had done tomes of paperwork justifying hiring her from the U.S. I was letting her stay in my home (until the arrival of my mother two weeks later). I had let her avoid work, (something I would have been firmer with another new employee), and I had ignored her distant, sullen nature in telling myself that it was jet lag, new country jitters, homesickness, etc. I kept thinking she’d snap out of it once she found this coveted apartment. I was a fool. Again.

She spluttered that she probably wouldn’t get the job anyway, that she “MIGHT not take it,” and that she “might not like the school.” Ha, fat chance. An American girl here is like a golden nugget. It’s probably the most sought-after teacher of all native English speakers. American accents are often preferred and women are a rarity (and deeply desired, especially in international kindergartens). It just happened to be an international kindergarten. Fuck.

Not to be overly dramatic myself, but I felt rather betrayed. I guess there’s so much background she couldn’t have known – how fantastically difficult it is to find good teachers in Thailand. How excited we were to have a happy, energetic woman on board (the school will be all male after my departure). How there was only a week and a half until the next semester began! Whoever we desperately found to replace her would be rushed into writing long plans for the entire semester in a short amount of time (unfair to him/her). And of course, this was my friend. Someone who had come all the way across the U.S. For me to give her a new life, for her to take a position teaching position she was well-suited for.

A few more days went by, and there was no apartment. She was leaving early in the morning to seek out long walks, and coming back with meat on sticks (she’s into the no-carbos diet which was intriguing and yet mystifying to me! There’s nothing like that here, especially with the required quota of rice each Thai must intake in a day). Finally, this morning while entering a local internet café to search for apartments again, she was suddenly bitten by a small, stupid, yippy dog (I hate these fucking things. Thais love them and will pay through the nose to own the snobbish little overly-breeded rats). This was the last straw. She was in tears. She was utterly miserable. First, she called home. Then, she asked to talk about it with me. She was so sad, which I felt terrible about, but didn’t really know how to deal with. At some point she began to lash out at me for my lack of assistance, caring, understanding, etc. (another stunning moment). I was immediately defensive, as I thought about how hard I had tried to do everything right. Giving lots of advice when needed (often feeling like I was annoying her with too much), and backing off when she was hinting how much she needed to be alone.

I tried to calm myself down after that and explain to her that I wasn’t trying to be critical or negative (wow, she’s REALLY sensitive about any criticism about her no-carbs diet), but was trying to keep her realistic. Her expectations really were only going to give her future grief (like living far from work or pining for the perfect pad). I think she …kind of… understood after that, and though she said she wasn’t “blaming” or “accusing” me, I had the distinct feeling she really was.

Within minutes she was on the back of my motorcycle on what would be a lengthy and exhausting dash across town to purchase her a plane ticket back to the U.S. (and later another lengthy wait at the hospital to get a just-in-case rabies shot). That’s right, a week after her arrival, she was packing it up and shipping it out. God. I have to admit, after all this, I was a little relieved. I have been here awhile and have seen people like this again and again and AGAIN. The best thing is to let them escape as soon as possible. If you try to keep them “to the end of the semester” (to please parents or make things cleaner), everyone ends up unhappy, including the children.

So, tomorrow as the sun is rising over the Chao Phya river, Rory will be soaring toward the Pacific, back the “comforts” of home (she has her own demons to face back there). As much as I hate how this all ended up, I know it’s really for the best. “It’s something unpredictable, but in the end was right. I hope you had the time of your life.”

A Star Called Henry by Roddy Doyle -- A-
This book follows the life of "Henry," a strong, street smart child who grows up in the slums of Dublin, and later becomes involved in the formation of the IRA and the revolution surrounding it. Though slow to get into, the book is a fantastic read and is more than the typical "God, nothing could be possibly more miserable than being poor and growing up in Ireland" book. It delves into so many areas, explores so many issues, and was so intertwined with real historical events (including the many appearances of Michael Collins), that I kept wondering if Henry Smart was a real historical figures (nope). Good historical fiction, as well as a good look at poltiics, family relationships, feminism, and the effectiveness of violent revolution.