Buhay Bangkok

I once read an interesting essay comparing Japanese conversation with American conversation. The writer, who was an American, compared the two to ball games. Americans talk like they are playing badminton (or tennis for that matter). One serves (i.e. initiates the conversation), then the other hits the birdie (or the ball if it’s tennis) and the other player tries to hit it and on and on. In short, there is direct interaction between the two parties. If there are more parties, they can play doubles.

 

The Japanese have a different way of conversing, according to the writer. They do it the way a bowling game is played. One player rolls the ball towards the pins, and whether he hits a strike or not, he moves on so that the other player can take his turn. Among the Japanese, the writer noted, one person can say something about the topic, then makes way for the next speaker. This second speaker neither makes an attempt to challenge or contradict the first one’s views, just says what he was supposed to say then move on.

 

I witnessed this live, in action, last Friday during our EFL class. There were no Japanese in the class, only Thais. But they might as well be Japanese, because they take pains to be polite to one another by not directly contradicting or questioning a classmate’s statements. They would simply nod their heads in agreement, murmuring, “Oh,” say their piece and move on.

 

There were no Americans either in that class. Just Lenka, our British colleague, who was there to observe, and myself.

 

The lesson was simple enough, especially for the guys at the Research Department most of whom have an average level of English use. I gave them a list of statements (like “Terminally ill people should be allowed to end their lives,” “Murderers should get the death penalty,” etc.) and pick one they have a strong opinion about (whether for or against) and share them with the class.

 

Everything was going well until it was the turn of Lek and Pet. They chose “Murderers should get the death penalty” and said they oppose it and proceeded to explain their position. Afterwards, the other class members shared their opinions, including Moo, a close friend of the two ladies.

 

Moo is a rarity among my Thai colleagues. He’s the only Thai who scowls often, shows his emotion openly, and utters words that are deemed impolite by his own countrymen. That afternoon, he expressed his opposing view and went on to challenge his two friends. The exchange went on for several minutes. It was like watching a badminton game, with each side hitting the birdie back to his opponent. It felt good after watching too many bowling games by the Thais. I certainly missed the heated debates my students always have in my classes in the Philippines, so this one was a welcome development. I can see Lenka was also engrossed.

 

And then it happened…

 

Pet, who at 23 was one of the youngest in the group and yet one who has a serious air about her, suddenly fired off a long stream of Thai at her friend Moo, with matching sharp eyes and serious countenance. Whoa! Everyone became quiet. Moo himself even blushed.

 

In my effort to break the ice, I asked in a tone which I hoped sounded amusing: “Alay na?” (What is it?) I always do this whenever my Thai officemates lapse into speaking in Thai to remind them that there’s a non-Thai in their midst who needs some translation pronto.

 

A moment later, I regretted it. For me, Pet’s was just a typical outburst during an emotional exchange of opinions, definitely nothing compared to the savagery I witnessed regularly in my classes back home. But for the Thais, it was a very awkward moment. Pet was so provoked and was so frustrated with her friend’s insistence on arguing with her about the death penalty that she had been forced to express her anger. In Thai culture, she lost face. It’s a big deal for them. Enough for her to mete out the death penalty on her friend if she had the chance, I guess.

 

The class broke up on a rather cool note after that, despite my efforts (and Lenka’s) to perk things up. Sawn, one of the more mature women in the group, suggested we talk about less serious matters next time. As in, more sanook (‘fun’). I had to agree.

 

I guess we’ll have more bowling games in the near future.