Forrest

As an English teacher, this has been an interesting thread. I have put together a Power Point with audio progam which I want to try - with a little help from farang friends - to get input from.. I guess I can't paste it here, but you can see it on my Face Book page: Forrest Greenwood, I'd appreciate any input.

Learning Thai is not easy. English is a crazy language, no doubt, but thia is . . . just strange. Below is my poem about learning Thai just so you know are not alone if you are struggling with the language as I am.

On Learning Thai (Chong Khae, Thailand)

Forty-four consonants with classy names

like snake, rat, and a little boat you row

not to say anything of old geezer which

my Thai wife’s four-year old granddaughter

with Shirley Temple curls says I am.

Thirty-two vowels which orbit the consonants like planets.

They wax and wane and sometimes go into retrograde

So severe they disappear. Most of these make noises

I last made during a physical exam when the rubber-gloved

doctor digitally checked my prostrate: Vowel E-U-U-U-A!

Five different tones, so it’s OK to have

high tones in low places and a funny mix of

four tone markers – one of which is the logo

for the International Red Cross – wait a minute,

five tones but only four markers?. Who invented

this language, Yogi Berra?

There are no capitals, but that’s OK because

there’s no punctuation, either. thaitextexudeslikea

sausagefromamachineinastraightlinesuntilitstopskhrap

I don’t think this farang will ever master Thai.

English may be crazy, but Thai needs another adjective

altogether khrap . . . (the last I think, comes close).

My reading of Thai is at the decoding stage. Translators often put their own spin on things. It looks to me that poetry is not central to Thai culture or Thai thought (or lack thereof). Dunno. Of course poetry in the west has become a collegial affair and inaccessible, so it's not much better..

I think one of the best ways of giving someone a "feel" for a country is through poetry. I take poetry to be direct speech that does not require the willing suspension of belief as fiction does. I live in rural Nakhonsawan and this poem might give a sense of poverty (made worse now by floods and drought). English speakers teaching here might like a place for poetry. I would love to talk to anyone.

The Persistence of Poverty

The irrigation canal,

As big as a New England river, slides by

Across the street from the clutch of houses

Where ours stands in a sad jungle

Worn thread bare by generations

Of impoverished cousins who live

In corrugated sheds that build heat

During the day which only a Puritan or

A Swede might relish or survive.

Man made, it looks to be a river

A child might draw: green grassy

Banks and tame water whose surface

Level is unnervingly close to the road’s

Gray tar. White cows with cocker spaniel

Ears graze the banks while birds with

Paper-white wings perch bareback upon them

In a symbiotic relationship which must have started

Close to the first cymbal clash of time.

But at night, women start unimaginative

Trash fires that smolder and smoke

On the banks but never become a blaze,

For this is not a child’s drawing

But a persistent land of poverty that

Water can neither erode nor fire burn.

FG 2008

I tried to learn Arabic when I first went to Saudi Arabia. What I found out was that all beginning books stressed Islam to the point they were teaching Islam, not Arabic. My Thai is poor still I think my Thai family expects me to be Thai. When they found out early on that I had no intention of giving up my western cause-and-effect mindset, they pushed me away to the point of tell Papa anything to get rid of him. It's like circling the wagons. As far as Thais speaking English, it's almost as if you can take the Thai girl out of the country but you can't take the Thai culture out of the girl. They will learn a little, but not enough to hold a real conversation. There's a stubborness here and an unwelcomingness here which makes communication difficult. Still, I like my Thais.

For eleven days this spring I taught English at a small vocation center and at a small school near Takhli. Each day was a new group of students starting from ground zero, At some point during the day, a group of teacher/supervisors (new ones everyday) would come in with their I-Pads and take pictures. I suspect this was an adimistrative PR exercise. The group pictures, not English, was the end-game. Haven't heard from them since, either.