Breakdown in Communications

I met my wife in April 2003. She is Thai and I am English. After reading "Five Little Stories" - penned by DANA - I was reminded of the last night on my first visit to Bangkok and the frustration of trying to make myself understood. It was actually DANA's story number 3: SOUP that opened my 'memory box'. This story struck a chord with me. At that time my wife, (to be), spoke and understood hardly any english at all. My Thai was equally non existant. Communication was conducted by semephore, the drawing of pictures, pantomime gestures, and translators, (when they were at hand). Above all, - it was Fun!!

I consider myself to be a good communicator having lived and worked in Germany 4 years and Denmark for 8 years. Languages have always interested me and I relish a linguistic challenge. I thought that my background in foreign languages would stand me in good stead for making myself understood in Thailand.

Far from it . . .

It was my last night in Bangkok on this my first time ever in The Kingdom. I was flying back to Manchester at 01:15 the next morning. Regulars will know "The Winking Frog Pub" in Sukhumvit, Soi 7. Across from this Pub is an open air Fish Restaurant. We liked the food there very much and we dined there often. All the waiters & waitresses are youngsters, (teens), who would loudly shout out to all potential customers passing by, "Hello, Sir!!" to get you to sit at 'their' tables that were in 'their' particular area.(Commission?) Hence the name we both gave to this Restaurant, - "The Hello, Sir!". My case was back at the Hotel, packed and weighed on the Hotel's scales. My time spent in Bangkok had been real Fun, but now, with a heavy heart, I was only a few hours away from my departure time. It was nearing my time to leave my teeruk and return home so that we could both reflect on the situation. Marriage.

For whatever reason my wife to be had insisted that her friend Wan MUST travel with us to the Airport so that they could both drive back to Lad Phrao together. "No problem at all", I had replied through an interpreter. This was said to me days earlier and it was stressed to me just how important this was. I was thinking that she was either nervous at being alone in a taxi at such an ungodly hour, or that she may be wanting Wan there for comfort.

Whatever the reason . . . it was very important to her.

I knew how long the journey took from Bangkok to the Airport. I'd allowed time for check in and even added time on for a possible traffic jam on the Expressway. (No trafic jams meant more time for our goodbyes. A bonus. Everything was planned. (I'm a good planner).

The time was looming ever closer. It felt as though I had got a piece of fish stuck in my throat from our Restaurant meal together, - but I knew it wasn't fish at all.

I cocked my left wrist and pointed to my watch face with my right index finger. Having got my teeruk's attention I mouthed the words, "What time Wan come and see you here, Bangkok?" With only a little more effort she managed to understand me. "Tomorrow morning", came the reply.

But I would be in the air at 01:15 "Tomorrow Morning". Something was not quite right.

After a bit more pantomiming it emerged that my teeruk thought that it was 13:15 that my plane took off, and NOT 01:15. I had taken my departure time right to the wire and didn't have any contingency plans in place to cover cock ups. I was mindful of just how important it was that Wan was in the taxi for the return trip home from the airport to Lad Phrao. "Don't Panic" is one of my maxims.

"Okay, you telephone Wan. You tell her to come to Hotel Ambassador, NOW! Richard will give money for taxi". I said this very slowly with a reassuring smile. My teeruk smiled back at me. She hadn't understood one word.

Not to worry, one of these kids who waited on tables would translate for me.

"Excuse me, excuse me. Can you help me please? Do you speak english?" was greeted with a smile and a polite shake of the head. I was begining to realise that the extent ot the young folks vocabulary didn't go much further beyond that of "Hello, Sir!" Of course, all of the dishes in the menu were illustrated with a colour photograph. The kids, (God bless 'em), could just as well have been deaf mutes, - and still have waited on Restaurant tables. My teeruk was oblivious to the dilema and smiled.

Eventually one of the young girls that I had stopped earlier returned with another girl, older. "She speak english", said my saviour.

I was elated. Everything was going to get sorted. In my heart of hearts I knew that it was only a matter of time before I hit verbal pay dirt and all my frustations would be over.

I took out a 100 baht bill, folded it into quarters, and placed it into the young ladies hand. "Kop koon", said my young translator. I told her, "Here, this is for you. Please tell my girlfriend, (blah blah blah) in Thai".

I spoke slowly and clearly and used as few words as possible, avoiding all big words. I'd done a really good job. I thought Wow, I could have been auditioning for a job with the BBC World Service, I'd spoken so clearly. When I'd done I nodded to the young translator to please procede with the translation. She took for AGES. When the young lady was done it was Wais all round and off she went. My teeruk and I smiled at each other.

I have got to know my wife really well since 2003. She is very sharp, very quick. What ever I'd asked our translator to translate was not the message that she gave to my intended. What was said in all of those very long minutes is anybodies guess. This was the first of many lessons that I have learned in the Land of Smiles. Things are not always as they seem. Maybe the young lady didn't want to "appear stupid" and therefore didn't ask me to repeat myself. Maybe she just "made up" the parts that she didnt understand.

A HAPPY ENDING: We did get to the Airport on time, (although without Wan). The taxi driver was a Liverpool FC soccer fan, the same as me, (he had some Liverpool FC regalia in his cab). His english was amongst the best that I've heared in my 4 trips over to Thailand. When I'd explained that evenings dilema, to my great surprise, he insisted that he came into the Airport with us and wait until I had gone through Passport Control. He ferried my wife back to Lad Phrao in complete safety. He gave me his cell phone number and made me prommise to call him when I returned to Thailand.

When I returned to England and called my teeruk on the phone and she told me how well the taxi driver had looked after her. I was bowled over by this man's generousity. I phoned the Liverpool FC Souvineer Shop for a copy of their gift catalogue. I placed an order for a Liverpool FC lapel badge, a key ring, a neck scarf, a pennant and a big Liverpool FC flag.

When I returned my teeruk wanted to visit a distant Temple. I told her to call 'our drivers' number. He picked us up and I gave him his surprise gifts. Tears filled his eyes. It was a very touching moment. Maybe he'd had a thoroughly shit week, - and I just made it better for him, - who knows? One of the nicest men I've ever met.

© Richard Mather. All rights reserved by the author.