Learning To Speak Thai or Climbing the Everest of Languages

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Leap before you look. It seemed like the right thing to do. Why be driven slowly mental by working at a bank and jump out the window when I could jump into an adventure in Thailand? So I took the leap, envisioning a countrywide motorcycle trip to taste the best food from the Thai Aunties I might meet along the road. There was only one problem. I couldn’t understand their patient explanations of the amazing food they created. So I decided to enroll in Thai language classes.

Since I didn’t know anyone in Chiang Mai, I thought my self-imposed exile would lend itself to a more concentrated and effective pursuit of the Thai language. The city hosted a respected language school called the American University Alumni School or AUA. The AUA school taught the Standard Thai dialect as spoken by broadcasters and cultured people. I sought to become cultured, too. Or at least be able to listen to a conversation and understand who did what to whom and when and why and where—small but important details that so far had eluded me.

As I am cursed with the briefest of attention spans (like that of a mosquito in a nudist colony), I requested a stern teacher who would force me to learn the basics. I signed up for private lessons with a tutor at the AUA school and was assigned to the Iron Lady of the teaching staff. My strict tutor, Professor Malee, had over thirty years of experience teaching Thai from the same classical textbook. Her teaching method was totally Thai: an unrelenting tough but fair attitude softened in the elaborate kindness and civility that is Thai social intercourse. Professor Malee had been married for three decades to an American State Department expat, so we could communicate easily in English.

How Hard Can Learning the Thai Language Be?

Learn a language? No problem, or so I thought. I bluffed my way through four years of high school French. I could speak well, but thought the emphasis the teacher put on those bothersome written accent marks was excessive (and my average grades reflected my nonchalance). However, I could speak French well enough to be politely received when I traveled in France, as long as there was no written quiz after dinner and wine. I was dedicated to learning to speak, read and write the Thai language. It was a haunting melody that I could hum, often off key, but not quite sing aloud, not yet at least.

Unlike my faking my way through French, there was no room for bluffing in Thai. The Thai written language doesn’t follow the English alphabet. It is a unique system of symbols that look like loops, lines and squiggles that must be mastered. In comparison, French, Italian and Spanish (the “dining menu” languages as I think of them) at least share a somewhat similar alphabet with English. The fact that the Thai language was written in continuous script, with no space between the words (as is the case in English) was seen only as a barrier for the weak to hurdle.
The Thai written language has forty-four consonants, thirty-two different vowel signs, two vowel lengths (short and long), plus tone marks that indicate the definition of the word.

Moreover, as a native Thai speaker will cheerfully explain to you as you announce your linguistic trek up the Everest of languages, the Thai language’s five tones (rising, high, falling, mid and low) can change the meaning of the word you speak, sometimes with an unintended result. One slip of the tongue using the wrong tone and you might have changed your speech from compliment to insult.

For example, if you tell your sweetheart she looks sooay with a rising tone or “beautiful” in Thai, you may receive a kiss on the cheek; a slight change to the mid tone makes the word sound like “unlucky” in which case your cheek might get a slap.

Perhaps You Misheard me, Auntie, I Didn't Mean To Say Give Me a Penis

The potential for comedy and insult due to the mispronunciation of a word abounded. I discovered this during a trip to the fresh food market. I wanted to buy wonton wrappers so I could make the Chiang Mai hotel staff a tummy treat, this time deep- fried wonton-wrapped shrimp marinated in fish sauce and red chilli curry paste. In the flush of nervousness that accompanied my attempt to speak an unfamiliar word, I mistakenly asked for “penises”—much to the delight of the salty proprietor. Compounding my role as comic for a day, a flustered mispronunciation of “bananas” came out as another euphemism for, well, “penises” with my mistake being relayed down the line of vendors to further compound my shame. As the laughter subsided, I got what I needed and was well remembered by the vendors during subsequent trips. I resolved to study harder.

I had previously tried to learn Thai by falling asleep listening to language recordings and by leafing through phrasebooks. I thought I had made real progress. Wrong. Trying to learn a language from listening to recordings is like taking your rifle to the shooting range and firing at paper targets; studying with a teacher is like having the targets shoot back. Duck for cover?I’m being asked a simple question and only recognize my name!

A, B, C, It’s Easy as … Well, It’s Not That Easy

My tutor was gentle in her difficult task of trying to teach me the basics of the language. Gentle when she suggested that when I had finally memorized the Thai alphabet, we could move past the first page in the Thai textbook where I had been stuck for three weeks.
The genial tutor tried to comfort me by noting that two of the forty-four consonants were not commonly used. Further, two of the vowels are obsolete (they only occurred in poems), so I wouldn’t see them in cookbooks. A feeling of relief swept over me, having learned that mastering the language was down to a manageable, decade-long struggle.

My friend who has lived in Thailand for decades happily oblivious to the local language (his Thai wife is fluent in English) asked why I bothered to learn. I couldn’t stand being illiterate. The big bookstores had dozens and dozens of appealing cookbooks in Thai showing artfully presented dishes. If I wanted to know how to combine the ingredients to reproduce these beauties, I had to learn to read. If I wanted to ask for a recipe from a chef, I had better be able to understand the response.

After concentrated months of study I could read, a little, slowly. If given a newspaper, an unabridged dictionary and a month’s time, I might possibly be able to tell you what happened on Page One. The good news was most Thai recipes involved a common set of ingredients, so I could decipher a basic cookbook, slowly. The Thai chefs at my hotel near the language school helped me out when I got stuck. The more I studied and tried to speak, the more confidence I gained. I didn’t ask for penises by mistake at the market for over a month.

 

 

 

 

© Cheftummy. All rights reserved by the author.


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Comments / Feedback

Dana
November 4, 2009, 23:52

I have written several times on the subjects of language and linguistics and learning languages and learning or speaking Thai. You would think that I would be done with it by now. But no. I have a shoe box full of notes on the subject (s) and have been resolving for a year to have another go at a subject that pretty much drives me insane. Maybe someday.
________________________

And now for something different:

"Is Moby Dick the whale or the man?"

Harold Ross, founder and editor for twenty-seven years New Yorker magazine. When faulted by his staff for his monumental literary ignorance he would say: I'm too busy publishing a magazine: I haven't got time to read.

Paying attention to this folks? If you sent in an article or an essay or a story or a long story (almost a novella) to the New Yorker magazine a non-reader and literary ignoramous 'edited' what you wrote. Just tell me where the balcony is so that I can jump.
Marc Holt
November 5, 2009, 11:32

I admire your persistence, cleftummy (horrors! Where did you get that nom de plume from?)

I hired a teacher soon after I arrived in Thailand to go to my office. She was a nice middle aged lady, kinda plain, which was ideal as far as my wife was concerned.

She would arrive at the end of my working day, ready to do battle with my seriously dulled wits. She, too, explained about the consonants and vowels that had no use. That was the beginning of my malaise. From there on it was all downhill. In the end I had to terminate her services when I found myself falling asleep during her many incomprehensible lectures explaining why yet another squiggly line wasn't really necessary.

Why have the darn things if they are no use to anyone, apart from poets...and we all know how essential they are to our culture, eh?

Anyway, even after 30 years in the Kingdom I couldn't read or write. Swear like a trooper? You bet! Understand all the blue exchanges between the big fat ladies at the market stalls? Sure can. But write even one word of Thai? You gotta be kidding!

But then again, I always reasoned that there was no point learning how to read and write Thai anyway. Reading and understanding the signs was likely to get me into trouble when I transgressed....it was easier to say I can't read.

Now that I have returned home, I can see exactly how much use that particular skill would have been to me.

Nada. Zilch. Zero.

I remain an unabashed mono-lingual writer. Ah well, c'est la vie.... but that's a phrase for another rant.
sawadee2000
November 6, 2009, 14:14

Good on you mate! Learning any new language is a challange. It's great that you made the effort. Learning Thai is no cake walk, that's for sure. My short term memory is so short that I can barely remember what I was attempting to say 30 seconds ago! It is a great feeling though to be able to understand a sign in a shop window, or to ask for something in a hardware store without making a complete fool of myself.
cheftummy
November 8, 2009, 11:58

Thanks for the kind words - I work with a number of Thai "Aunties"who never learned English (it was not taught in school when they were students 40 years ago), and so have been forced to learn to speak, and now read their cryptic handwriting to decipher the recipes they share. My family nicknamed me "Chef Tummy" (meaning "fat stomach" in American English) when I got a job in an office, but continued to eat the 4,000 calories a day that had fueled me when I had worked as a carpenter to pay for university. The Chef part came when I started making the rich French food my francophile father liked. Now I just introduce myself to Thai folks as "Phompui Muu Sam Chan" or "Chubby Pork Belly" to their amusement. Flaunt it, don't daunt it, as Father used to say.
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