When I was just over a year old, I was adopted from Thailand by my American parents. Ever since, I’ve lived in a small, predominantly white town in Eastern Washington—America is all I can remember, and I consider myself American. Though we have returned to Thailand on vacation a few times, I don’t speak the language, nor do I know much about the culture or people.
I am American by nationality, but ethnically I am Thai, and I fully look it as well. I’ve always been conscious of my Asian-ness in schools where none of my classmates looked like me, in a city where I was visibly a minority no matter where I went. In Thailand, however, the roles were reversed—suddenly it was my parents, who are white, who were perceived as foreign.
After my first year of college, I wanted to see more of the world than my small hometown, and have always desired to learn the language that so many people expect me to know, so I decided to go to Thailand for a month to finally take a class in the language and culture. I knew it would be a much different experience than I have in the States, but I wanted to see just how different it would get.
Differences
Surprisingly, the language barrier wasn’t all that difficult to overcome. Mahidol University International College conducts all their classes in English, and the WorldStrides program connected me with fellow Americans before classes even began. Because I was surrounded by so many English speakers, I had no problem communicating with my classmates or teachers, and barriers only arose when I ventured out into the city.
As a small sidenote, Thai people are incredibly skilled at somehow being able to tell I am Thai. And they do inquire about it—I was asked if I was Thai just as much, if not more, than I was asked where I was from (which is a very common question). Because I am apparently quite Thai-looking, locals will often just start speaking to me, assuming I know the language. It’s a fair assumption, in my opinion—and frankly, somewhat embarrassing to have to admit every time that I don’t know Thai. This happened quite frequently with street market vendors, Grab drivers, and waiters, especially.
Even walking and talking—quite loudly—in English with the others from America didn’t always change that outcome. Often, locals would turn to me to translate for my friends, which was certainly an odd experience. The other notable difference was that salespeople, especially in street markets at the malls, will call out to you to get your attention. They called to my (white) friends in English; they called to me in Thai. Admittedly, it was kind of nice being immune to heckling, as I couldn’t actually understand what they wanted me to buy.
Damnoen Saduak Floating Market, where many vendors tried to talk to me in Thai.
Overall, Thailand and America aren’t all that different in the ways that matter. People are incredibly kind and polite in Thailand, much more so than in the States, and it shows. There’s no need to be worried if you don’t speak Thai well or aren’t sure what to do, because people are happy to help.
Conclusion
I’ve always been conscious of my differences in America, but coming to Thailand opened my eyes to the true differences in being a majority versus a minority. I was able to experience so much authentically, and feel like this summer was the first step towards truly discovering my identity as a Thai-American.
I hope my blog will encourage people to choose Thailand like I did—it’s a beautiful country, and I’m just as proud to be Thai as I am proud to be American.