An English teacher and proud

One question often asked by the more sensitive English teacher in Thailand is are we looked down upon by other expatriates? Do those who don't teach for a living sneer and jeer at those who do? Then with perfect timing, an invitation to a business networking evening pops through the letterbox. It was time to find out.

I don't do networking evenings as a rule - especially networking evenings in Bangkok. It's the same old faces handing out the same old business cards plugging the same old services. And let's face it - were it not for the free food and wine, the vast majority wouldn't be battling through monsoon rains to shake hands with complete strangers and discuss who's got the best apartment and the most careful driver.

I'm probably not the most approachable person (or so my wife tells me) - and that's always a huge disadvantage to a networker - but I did get collared by a chatty Indian fellow at a networking evening some months ago. He shook my hand and before I even had chance to tell him my name, he'd told me what business he was in, his plans for expansion, his analysis of the company balance sheet and a small problem they had with pilfering from the staff canteen. After twenty very long minutes of nodding and inserting "really?" during appropriate pauses, my brain shut down and my eyelids started to feel like two lead weights. I'm still not sure how I managed to get away. I didn't end up walloping him across the head with a half-empty beer glass before disappearing into the crowd - but it certainly crossed my mind.

I was determined that this time would be different. I wouldn't just stand there and wait for boring people to sidle up to me by the vol-au-vents. I wouldn't stare into empty space and become a target for the socially inept to make idle chit-chat over the curry puffs. This time I was a man on a mission. To find out what your average high-flying expat - or even just those who don't ply their trade in a classroom - think of us TEFLers. And here was the perfect opportunity.

So it's 7.30pm in an unremarkable Irish pub off Sukhumwit Road. The networking evening is in full swing. At a glance about thirty or forty willing souls all ready to offer me their opinions on English teachers. Perhaps these conversations might even lead to a job offer. They might lead to insults. I might even get thrown out.

I decided to play it safe and start with a navy blue suit standing on the other side of the room. Safe inasmuch as I had chatted to Trevor before. I knew he was a financial consultant of some description and I knew he spent a lot of time in Hong Kong. After the obligatory "look what the cat dragged in" I asked Trevor his opinion on English teachers. He thought about the question hard. "Well I suppose everyone's got to make a living. It's not my idea of a good time because I imagine it would be a bloody hard job"

I wanted to know how many of Trevor's friends were English teachers? How many of us had penetrated his intimate circle?
"I tend to hang around with financial people and investment people most of the time. I've got friends who have been English teachers for a time but they've all gone on to better things"

Ah, Trevor lets the cat out the bag. "Gone on to better things" It's Trevor telling me that English teaching is a shit job. Time to mingle.

I spot a middle-aged Thai lady daintily placing tuna sandwiches on a paper plate with a pair of tongs. She's dressed for a networking evening and I squeeze in next to her. "These look nice" I said. Here I go again - the king of the chat-up line. Within minutes we're getting on like a wooden Thai house on fire. She's the director of an exclusive recruitment agency that supplies multinational companies with quality Thai management staff. I fake interest until eventually she asks what I do for a living.
"I'm an English teacher - and proud of it"

Her eyes light up. Just about every member of her family tree - and it's a hell of a tree - is looking for an English teacher to study with. "Good teachers are so difficult to find" she says. I get a feeling it's because none of the family has ever bothered looking. Thais always do this. You get chatting, tell them you're a chalkie, and suddenly they've signed up the whole family for English lessons with you. Phone numbers are scribbled out on pieces of paper with the promise of ‘I will call you'. Six months later, desperate and starving, you dial her number with pipe-cleaner thin fingers and it takes her ten minutes to realize who you are.

I never actually exchanged phone numbers with this particular lady but between mouthfuls of tuna sandwich, she did give me an in-depth analysis of the failings of the Thai education system. When she said that what Thailand needed was more and more foreign teachers, I could have hugged her. Now here's a woman who appreciates what we do.

I spy another lost soul standing by the fire exit. He looks desperate to get involved so I walk over to him with the Thai woman immediately deciding she wants to come to. I offer my hand, "Look at you standing there smoldering with your gypsy good looks" Yes - I know there are better approaches but I told you before - I'm no good at this networking lark.

John is in the real estate business. He whips out a business card so fast I can't fail to be impressed. Talk about the fastest gun. If this had been Billy the Kid and Wyatt Earp in a showdown at Dry Gulch, by now half a dozen ranch hands would be dragging my wounded ass into the saloon. As it is, I get a blow-by-blow account of how Bangkok's condominium market is going to develop over the next ten years. Does John think that it's a property bubble that will eventually burst? Which areas will become the most desirable? Eventually I run out of questions because I couldn't give a shit. Tell me what you think of English teachers.

John says that communication with his Thai staff is always difficult so he has nothing but praise for foreigners helping Thais to reach English fluency. Get in there! Chalk one up for the teachers.

The Thai recruitment woman has wandered off to find someone more interesting. I'm all alone in a room full of people socializing without me. There are business people sharing jokes and giving each other hearty backslaps. I'm very much alone and back at square one. I spot a couple of suits guzzling the complimentary red wine. It's time to be really daring and ask two strange men if they're up for a threesome.

Lloyd and Michael are only too happy to let me invade their personal space and engage in mundane tittle-tattle. They are both directors at a well-known printing and media company on the outskirts of Bangkok - so well known that I've never heard of it. But the business cards are certainly impressive. They're a couple of fun guys but I bring the evening down by telling them I teach English. The silence is like you get in those few seconds just before the guillotine drops.

"There can't be much money in that game"
"Oh I can earn 50,000 in a good month" I reply.
Lloyd and Mick look at each other quizzically. Did he just say 50,000? How does he afford the luxury weekends away or the membership fees at The British Club? I tell them that 50,000 can afford you a good standard of living in Bangkok but they look remarkably unconvinced. In this threesome I'm suddenly the odd man out. I'm about as welcome as the wino who's emerged from his cardboard box, draped his arms around them, and with a breath reeking faintly of methylated spirits, spat out "spare something ferra cup o tea guv" and then accidentally relieved himself down their trouser legs.

I've got nothing but respect for Albert. Probably in his late 70's, this boy's been around the block. I've been watching him work the room like everybody's favorite uncle. When our paths finally cross and he finds out I'm an English teacher, he brims with enthusiasm. "If only I had my time again. That's something I would really love to do. What is there not to admire. You can travel the world and work at the same time. Wherever you lay your hat and all that. Look at all the wonderful experiences you are getting out of life instead of being some corporate slave until the day you die. Yes, I can certainly see the attraction in teaching English"

I decided I liked Albert. Very much in fact.

There was suddenly a collective but suppressed expression of delight as the caterers brought out the desserts. Fancy meringue nests with nubbins of fresh mango jostled for room on the cake stand with slices of blueberry cheesecake and apple tartlets dusted with a hint of cinnamon. I might not be going home with a single decent business contact but I'm sure as hell going home with a bellyful of pudding.

As I become gloriously lost in a world of bite-size marshmallows and chocolate fondue, there's a tap on my shoulder and an Indian gentleman asking where he's seen me before. He's either genuinely friendly or it's a clever ruse to try and grab the last meringue nest so I stick my elbow out to block his path. That meringue nest has got a name on it and it's certainly not Singh. Most Indian strangers I encounter on the street are usually fortune tellers. It's an observation I laugh out loud at but one that he doesn't seem to appreciate. But I ask his opinion of English teachers anyway. He immediately reaches for The Mahatma Gandhi Book of Unforgettable Quotations' - all memorized. I forget those nuggets of wisdom word for word but the gist was that to be an educator was indeed a man's greatest calling.

"Now let me tell you a little bit about what my company does and where we hope to be in the next ten or twenty years"
I put a restraining hand on the Indian gentleman's arm and asked him to excuse me while I paid a visit to the little boy's room. It was either that or feign a heart attack.

When I emerged from the Gents - wiping my moist hands on my buttocks in the way that working classes tend to do - I noticed a tall, elegant, blonde lady tucking into a pint of Guinness and licking her moustache between sips. No, she wasn't of course. She held a glass of the house white with immaculately manicured fingers, playfully pulling at her hair with the other hand. I just had to talk to her even though I'm 46 and I've never been comfortable approaching the gentler sex and making conversation. It's a problem I've had since........since........well.......let me see..........since I was born really.

You have to put your natural shyness aside at times like this when you are taking part in a social experiment. I always give myself a pep talk and ask one simple question - what could be the worst possible outcome? OK, she could throw a glass of wine over me, shout ‘Rape!' I would then be wrestled to the floor by security staff and wake up among a pile of black refuse bags and food scraps at the back of the establishment. But that's neither here nor there.

Gemma (what else could it be) was frightfully good company. She worked in the graphics department of several top magazines, holidayed in exotic places and knew every decent Italian restaurant in town. As my father would say "a woman from good class kennels" Lo and behold, she'd even done a bit of English teaching herself.

"Oh I know first-hand how difficult teaching English can be. I have nothing but admiration for guys who can walk into a room of ten screaming kids and get them to learn something. There's absolutely no shame in being a teacher"

They were words I so longed to hear. I was really warming to Gemma. I imagined the two of us snuggling up on her high-rise balcony with pastel colored lambswool sweaters draped over our shoulders, a glass of wine in our hands, and me pointing out a distant firework display. But away with such small talk. Get a grip of yourself boy. You are an English teacher. Only in fairy tales do guys like you cop off with such fair maidens.

I was determined not to get sidetracked so I talked to Rick. Rick was American. A bear of a man. He almost ripped my arm out of its socket with the heartiest of handshakes. Americans were made for networking events. They just look so comfortable with it. I'm British. We're hopeless at it. We haven't even got the weather as a small talk option because the weather isn't a discussion topic here. It's no good saying "weather's letting us down a bit" or "they say we're in for rain later" because folks look at you as if you've just managed to give matron the slip.

I remember years ago in a small expat beer-bar off Rama Four road. I was sitting on a bar-stool next to what I assumed to be a hard-drinking Scotsman. There were just the two of us enjoying some light mid-afternoon refreshment. Suddenly the heavens opened and we were treated to the mother of monsoon downpours. Eager to make some attempt at conversation with the Scotsman, I said "just look at that come down" He fixed me with a steely glare and replied with "Well it ay gonna f***ing go up is it"
Since that day I refuse to use the weather as an opening conversational gambit.

Back to Rick the American, who incidentally had been posted here as an advisor for the oil industry. He didn't know too much about the TEFL industry in Thailand but "I hear there's a lot of you guys out here" he said. "Sounds like a pretty worthwhile job to me. You guys are doing a heck of a lot for the future of Thailand. That can only be a good thing"

I left the networking event feeling rather pleased. OK I had only talked to a very small cross section of the ‘non-teaching expat community' but by and large, they respect what teachers do here.

So next time you are sitting on a crowded sky-train. Delve into your back-pack and whip out your Interchange. Go on. Flick through the pages with a theatrical flap. Look at the passengers around you and when one eventually makes eye contact. Say it loud and say it proud. "I'm an English teacher you know"