As the London bound Qatar Airways flight thundered down the runway at Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok on 16th January 2009 I slipped into my usual reflective mood to help pass away the long flight via the Gulf.
It had, I reflected, been an interesting year since I first arrived to live in Thailand. A year in which I had learned quite a few things about my adopted country and its people. What I had discovered had somewhat tarnished my view on Thailand and the Thai culture. Don’t get me wrong, it had been an enjoyable year, but I was starting to discover that you needed to look beyond the Thai smile, never accepting things at face value and being prepared to be cheated or at the very least overcharged for goods and services.
Thailand was certainly not proving to be the land flowing with milk and honey that I had perhaps thought it was when viewing it through the rosy tinted glasses of a tourist in the eight years leading up to becoming an expatriate. No the brutal truth that was beginning to dawn was that Thailand could best be described as a developing country, riddled with corruption and bureaucracy, where foreigners were tolerated rather than welcomed and seen as an easy source of make a quick buck.
Several things had helped me formulate these opinions. Dealing with the Doctor over the bungalow had not been straightforward and he had failed to fulfil all his obligations, while Duen was unhappy that I had leased the land the house stood on rather than opting to buy it and register it in her name. Something that was to rear its head on more than one occasion over the next few years. Albeit that it was my money that was paying for everything. Jumping through the various hoops that Thai Immigration juggled when it came to getting a retirement extension to my O visa was also a pain, but worth the effort I reasoned given the other option of doing a border run every 90 days. Why was it though that different officers had different rules and that “fees” varied so much?
Getting work done by the local “tradesmen” was also a mine field and a source of angst, had I been able to speak Thai I would have loved to have told some of these cowboys that I was not freshly landed off a banana boat, but I guess my efforts would have been met with a quizzical smile or a knowing look given the abundance of that particular fruit in Thailand.
Funnily enough despite these irritations the thing I had missed most during my first year away from the UK had been having a decent conversation in English. Duen spoke reasonable English, I spoke a few words of Thai, but it was impossible to discuss things in depth. There were few English speakers in Prachuap and expats tended to be from Norway, Sweden or Germany. Although I seldom saw foreigners.
I suppose I had become quite isolated and certainly felt lonely on occasions despite the ability to speak on the Internet to the folks back home. I also still felt slightly uncomfortable when Thais openly pointed at me and said “farang.” Quite why they needed to do this was really beyond me since they knew I was a foreigner and so did I and I certainly didn’t remotely resemble even the most Western looking Thai.
I had read that expatriates go through various phases after what you might call the honeymoon period but as I stood in the immigration queue at Heathrow for the life of me I couldn’t remember the former. Perhaps I am being a little unfair, after all Thailand still had a lot to offer, nice weather, great food and some fantastic scenery and sights, it certainly wasn’t all bad. I had a home there too for a fraction of the price I would have paid in the UK. I think its fair to say that my love affair with Thailand continued even if it was just ever so slightly starting to get tarnished.
Anyway I was home, in the middle of the Northern Hemisphere winter, time for a few belated Christmas celebrations, a trip to the football and as it transpired a dinner date with a lady I hadn’t seen for five years.
Related posts:
