Sounds of Chiang Rai

My ears never take a backseat in Thailand. Noise pollution is not a concept here, giving my ears a mouthful to digest. So, when I asked them if they would like introduce a typical day at Princess Chulahborn College Chiang Rai, they appropriately replied, “Sounds good.” Here is my life through their lenses:

At six each morning we wake to the sound of Sean Kingston’s Beautiful Girls over the megaphones. Ross fumbles his finger to turn the fan up to speed 3, and we dutifully go back to sleep. We wait for our real alarm that will come a half hour later: an army of Thai chatter passing our window on route to the canteen.

As we walk 200 plus meters to the canteen, the student chatter has been replaced with birds chirpping. Now, we are ready for the day.

First, we go to morning assembly. We listen to the national anthem and school song followed by one of several King songs. As an administrator or student gives a speech, we try to pick out any (if any) Thai we understand. This is a fun game to make the talk go quicker.

It is off to the classroom. As we enter, student roars turns to a mum as the class leader says, “Please stand up.” “Good morning teacher, how are you?” they methodically chant. Sometimes in the afternoon, Ross asks them to repeat this phrase with more vigor, if the students look tired. Traditionally, Thai classrooms are quiet as the teachers are the ultimate authority on knowledge. Ross tries to get the students up and speaking. He is getting better. One time a teacher told him, “If I want to know where you are teaching, I just listen.” Ross wasn’t sure what the teacher meant, but he thought this was a good thing.

“Ca-plunk.” It is the afternoon and Ross throws off his loafers. He is putting on his tennies for sports or cooking. As he walks outside, and we hear a hum of student on far-off fields playing basketball (pictured), soccer, rugby, badminton, tennis, table tennis—you name it. Many are shouting the names of their friends. Maybe they want the ball passed to them.

After dinner, Ross walks home with a bag of banana chips. The crunching sometimes makes it hard for us to understand the students as they pass. “Where are you going?” they say, or to be funny, “Good morning!” “Good night,” Ross quips back.

In the evening, the students crouch around the karaoke computer outside the bedroom window. Ross usually enjoys hearing the students sing Thai karaoke until they begin “My heart will go on” from Titantic. It is good though, Ross thinks, because it forces us to listen to a Thai language CD.

Soon the karaoke dies and all we can hear is the locus, reminding us of the midwest. We listen as Ross gets into bed and turns the fan to speed 1. We think this is funny. Why not just start with speed 3?