sometimes...
Often I like Thailand. Often I love Thailand. But there are some mornings when I could do without the traffic, the heat, and quite frankly, the Thais.
I woke up late this morning, feeling my bed was more comforable than a shower at 6 in the morning. This put me a few minutes behind schedule, but nonetheless, I was still going to make it to work on time.
Rin was angry at Sophie for chewing on something else, and he was in a bad mood. Lucky for me, his bad mood is taken out on the streets, with me on the back of his motorbike going 80 km per hour on our soi (about one lane wide). We stopped for coffee, and then kept going, me hitting him every few metres to tell him I was afraid I was going to die. Then, we got stuck at red light. For over five minutes. This, my friends, seemed to put him over the edge, making him speed out from the light, almost hit a taxi who ran a red light, and swerve around this bus and that truck and this car and mirrors of other cars en route to school, me kicking and screaming the whole way.
I finally got to school and punched in one minute before I would hav been late, and proceeded to go over to my building. Now, I came to school today, not wearing the usual uniform. The uniform today is a fabric that is the same colour as baby excrament, and is so ugly I am embarassed to have it in my closet. We are having a Halloween party today, which means a lot of running around on my part, so I decided to wear pants. Generally not a problem, as I can count the amount of times I have worn pants to school this year on one hand.
As I walked into the foyer of my building where all the Thai teachers and students congregate in the morning waiting for morning assembly, these are the following comments I received:
'Oh, wow, you're late.' (Inner thoughts: 'Nope, not late. On time. But thanks for noticing!')
'Oh, pants ! That's different. I thought you had this suit.' (Inner thoughts: 'Yup, pants! Look, it's the 21st century! Women can wear pants! I do have that suit, and it's convenient, because if a student throws up on me, it will blend right in!')
'Oh...too busy to get your hair done? You look so much better with your hair down. Or maybe you don't make enough money, so you can't get your hair done every day!' (followed by snide laughter and jealous glares...) (Inner thoughts: 'Nope, hair not done. In a ponytail. Still wet, in fact! The funny thing is, as much as I like to spend 2 hours getting my hair done every night and then going at 6:30 in the morning to get it restraightened, I somehow just don't. I know...what a civilian. I do my own hair.') (Short version: 'bite me.')
'You look so...young in that shirt!' (Inner thoughts: 'huh? Why do you feel the need to say something every morning?')
'Oh Heather, you wear that necklace everyday. Nice earrings, by the way, but you should change your necklace more often.' (Inner thoughts: 'This is the icing on the cake. First of all, I bought the necklace a week ago, and I have worn it once. Granted, it was on Wednesday, and this is only Friday, making the period between showings quite small. But, I mean, come on. Who cares? And the earrings? She gave them to me for my birthday, yesterday! My birthday was a week ago! You don't see me giving her shit now do you?!!!!!!!!!')
Grr. I get so annoyed. And the way things work here, I had to do everything in my power not to talk back, because it would only make things worse. So I met every comment with a smile and kept walking.
Just keep walking...
I woke up late this morning, feeling my bed was more comforable than a shower at 6 in the morning. This put me a few minutes behind schedule, but nonetheless, I was still going to make it to work on time.
Rin was angry at Sophie for chewing on something else, and he was in a bad mood. Lucky for me, his bad mood is taken out on the streets, with me on the back of his motorbike going 80 km per hour on our soi (about one lane wide). We stopped for coffee, and then kept going, me hitting him every few metres to tell him I was afraid I was going to die. Then, we got stuck at red light. For over five minutes. This, my friends, seemed to put him over the edge, making him speed out from the light, almost hit a taxi who ran a red light, and swerve around this bus and that truck and this car and mirrors of other cars en route to school, me kicking and screaming the whole way.
I finally got to school and punched in one minute before I would hav been late, and proceeded to go over to my building. Now, I came to school today, not wearing the usual uniform. The uniform today is a fabric that is the same colour as baby excrament, and is so ugly I am embarassed to have it in my closet. We are having a Halloween party today, which means a lot of running around on my part, so I decided to wear pants. Generally not a problem, as I can count the amount of times I have worn pants to school this year on one hand.
As I walked into the foyer of my building where all the Thai teachers and students congregate in the morning waiting for morning assembly, these are the following comments I received:
'Oh, wow, you're late.' (Inner thoughts: 'Nope, not late. On time. But thanks for noticing!')
'Oh, pants ! That's different. I thought you had this suit.' (Inner thoughts: 'Yup, pants! Look, it's the 21st century! Women can wear pants! I do have that suit, and it's convenient, because if a student throws up on me, it will blend right in!')
'Oh...too busy to get your hair done? You look so much better with your hair down. Or maybe you don't make enough money, so you can't get your hair done every day!' (followed by snide laughter and jealous glares...) (Inner thoughts: 'Nope, hair not done. In a ponytail. Still wet, in fact! The funny thing is, as much as I like to spend 2 hours getting my hair done every night and then going at 6:30 in the morning to get it restraightened, I somehow just don't. I know...what a civilian. I do my own hair.') (Short version: 'bite me.')
'You look so...young in that shirt!' (Inner thoughts: 'huh? Why do you feel the need to say something every morning?')
'Oh Heather, you wear that necklace everyday. Nice earrings, by the way, but you should change your necklace more often.' (Inner thoughts: 'This is the icing on the cake. First of all, I bought the necklace a week ago, and I have worn it once. Granted, it was on Wednesday, and this is only Friday, making the period between showings quite small. But, I mean, come on. Who cares? And the earrings? She gave them to me for my birthday, yesterday! My birthday was a week ago! You don't see me giving her shit now do you?!!!!!!!!!')
Grr. I get so annoyed. And the way things work here, I had to do everything in my power not to talk back, because it would only make things worse. So I met every comment with a smile and kept walking.
Just keep walking...
posted by isobella at 7:47 AM
3 Comments:
The local comfort-level with voicing observations about one's neighbour is especially annoying and difficult to maintain jai yen about when on is post-partum. If I had a baht for every time someone commented straight-faced or as a joke that I was still fat after giving birth (you still look pregnant, I thought you had the baby already, when are you going to be skinny again?, you must really like chocolate, your baby is fat just like you, your husband must like you fat, hee hee hee)...if I had a baht for all those times my hormonally deranged self heard those kinds of comments, I'd have enough baht to...well, at least buy a yummy dinner at my favourite Isaan place.
Harrumph. Sorry about the cranky-making morning. May this weekend be more peaceful!
who are these people? why do they feel they can comment on your fashion choices? is it just one person, or an entire peanut gallery? i think you handle yourself very when dealing with the fashion police as the universe will sort them out HOWEVER a cleverly-phrased, impeccably-timed comeback, every now and then, will make them choke on their words. how about something like.."Oh yeah? Well, do you mind turning down the volume on your outfit? it's a little loud." or "Who died?" or my favourite "When's it due?" Spiteful maybe, but that's what a big spoonful of your own medicine tastes like. bon apetit.
Interesting.
Evidently your co-workers don't read this blog.
But isn't this great therapy? I'm sure you feel better.
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