Truths and Lies about Thailand: “everyone” speaks English

At a minimum, Americans (and Germans) have the sense that everyone in Thailand speaks English. Not literally, of course, but we do believe that wherever we go there will be Thai people who speak enough English to negate our need to speak any Thai. That’s pretty much true in the tourist intensive areas, but the moment you step off the Farang Trail the prevalence of English precipitously declines, and without rudimentary Thai you find yourself struggling to order even a cup of tea. This was a rude awakening for Spectra and me because we live nowhere near the Farang Trail. Our pathetic attempts at learning a little Thai were incinerated in a trial by fire as we struggled to do anything that didn’t involve McDonald’s or 7-eleven. It was a humbling and bewildering first month (or two). And one I heartily endorse.

Thailand is not an English speaking nation. It’s Thailand, which is where they speak Thai. Many people here do speak English, which is nice for we English speakers, and considering it’s currently the world’s lingua franca that’s no doubt of broader utilitarian benefit to them. Still, learning any language beyond one’s native tongue should be a choice freely made. If vast tracts of Americans still stubbornly refuse to learn a second language, then that’s a right we ought to endorse in other nations too. I've demonstrated my support by learning a trifle of Thai, and I rather enjoy the painstaking process of slooooooowly finding an understanding with Thai people who speak no English. 

Just in case you don’t know, Thai is a tonal language. This is a daunting hurdle for English speakers—who aren’t musicians—and it isn’t the only one. Thai also features a bunch of sounds that are, for lack of a better description, in between familiar English sounds. For example, there’s a sound between P and B. Try and make that sound. Try it. I dare you! I can’t even hear it much less make it. So when I'm attempting to say a word with one of those mystery sounds I make an exaggerated mess of it to convey it’s the sound hidden in here that I can’t make. Tones in conjunction with hidden sounds mean Thai people often have NO CLUE what I’m talking even when I know what I'm saying. 

To wit, my home bus stop is “major.” Yes, the English word. It’s the name of a movie theater chain that has a location across the street from our apartment. Convenient, right? How many different ways do you think there are to say “major”? Take a moment. Think about it. As far as I can tell there are at least twelve. Five potential vowel sounds for the A, five more for the O, and at least two for the J because it’s one of those in between sounds. Plus, the R is silent. And the R in conjunction with the O make that vowel sound more like “uh” than anything typically associated with an O. So a simple English word like “major” ends up sounding more like “may-jch-uh.” And that’s without the tones. 

Context often saves the day, but even with a word seemingly as simple as "major" it can take several seconds of saying it over and over and over changing the tones and mangling the vowels every way I can think of until the Thai person I'm talking to finally hears it. I love these “oooooooh” moments, and the laughter that usually ensues, but one place it's not fun is the bus. The ticket person on the bus is usually in a hurry. When she (or much less frequently, he) is stymied by the tone deaf, thick tongued, unintelligible farang butchering the name of a bus stop beyond recognition; she quickly scans the bus to find the secret everpresent font of English assistance: young Thai people. 

If my experience and recollection are fair indicators, which they are not, then virtually all Thai people 25-and-under on buses speak English. This happens without fail when the ticket lady gets fed up with my verbal gymnastics: She scans the bus to find the nearest young lady in a school uniform. It’s almost always a young lady in school uniform and there is always at least one on the bus (university students wear uniforms too). The ticket lady will say something in Thai to the young lady who will then either simply look at me or say, “Where do you want to go?” I’ll tell her the name of the place I’m going, and then she’ll say it to the ticket lady who will immediately understand… even though I’m sure the student said the exact same thing I just said! 

I'd bet my life that someone speaks English on that bus.

I have yet to find this exasperating. It's closer to experiencing a magic trick that seems so simple, and you think you've identified the part where the sleight of hand takes hides the secret, but you can't quite put it all together. I know what the student says is subtly different than what I say but I just can't hear it. We’ll be leaving at the end of June so it's doubtful I'll ever master the tones and mystery sounds. This is a bummer but it’s not a crippling setback. Because while it’s a lie that everyone in Thailand speaks English; it is an astonishing and mystifying truth—every bit as inconceivable as the existence of a sound between P and B—that the young person nearest the ticket lady on the bus most certainly does.