Thai schools are in the midst of “summer vacation.” Technically it’s spring, but this is the hottest time of year here so kids get a couple months off (kids in Thai schools, that is, kids in international schools get much shorter breaks). In practice that means lots of tutoring instead of school, but still they have considerably more free time these days. And what do they do with it? If the dozen or so young people I routinely work with are a fair representation, they do not spend much of it with their friends.
In class I always ask students what they’ve done since I last saw them. The answers typically involve movies, games, shows, sleeping, and eating. Lot’s and lot’s of sleeping. Slowly it dawned on me that there was very little mention of friends. At first I wondered if they were taking that fact as a given, like of course they’re watching movies with friends, but then I started asking them about it.
Maybe eight of the twelve youngsters said the same thing: they don't see their friends during summer break. Pretty much ever. What's more, they don't care to. It just isn't a priority. Of course they text or play games together online; but the idea of seeing a movie or eating a pizza or just hanging out isn't on their radar. And of the kids who don’t hang out with their friends, absolutely none of them have ever had a friend over to their house or been to a friend's house.
A few months ago one of my students had mentioned this in passing. She said she never went to friends’ houses and they never came to hers because they have to be “perfect little angels.” I didn’t see the demonic element in going to a friend’s house and pressed her on the point. She said her parents wouldn’t know what she doing at a friend’s house. I pointed out her friend’s parents would know and she said that wasn’t the same thing. At that point I let it go assuming it was one of her parents curious predilections or there was more to the story than I knew (or perhaps should know).
Now, months later, I’ve found myself surrounded by “perfect little angels.” One of whom is 12-year-old Paint (not her real name). I tutor Paint in her home and last week we were talking about the fact that she hadn’t spent any time with a single friend since she’d been on summer break (she goes to a Thai school and has the multi-month extended vacation) when her mother, Time (not her name), entered the room.
Paint’s English is spotty and I wondered if we misunderstood each other, so I asked Time to confirm.
“No, she has not seen any of her friends.”
I was exaggeratedly flabbergasted. “Not once. Will she? Before school starts?”
Time laughed, “No.”
“Not to see a movie? Not to get a pizza? Nothing?”
Time and Paint both laughed, “No.” They found my astonishment amusing.
“What about going to a friend’s house?”
Time stopped laughing. “No.” She was serious. This was not funny.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I do not know her friends’ parents. It might be dangerous,” Time said without a hint of deadpan.
“But her friends all go to school with her,” I pointed out. “And it’s not a public school so her friends’ parents are probably a lot like you.”
Time was unmoved. “I don’t know them. It’s dangerous.”
I explained that when I was a teenager on break from school that every day I couldn’t hang out with my friends was agony.
Time listened patiently, nodding along, and then said in all seriousness, “This is not America.”
Indeed not, but lucky I am American and was undaunted.
“Okay, pretend Paint is friends with the Crown Prince’s daughter, who is about her age, I think. If the Prince’s daughter asked Paint over, could she go?”
Time shrugged and said, “I’d have no choice. She would have to go.”
“Okay, pretend Paint is friends with (Thailand Prime Minister) Yingluck’s…”
“NO!” Time cut me off. “No.”
“Okay, pretend Paint is friends with (opposition leader) Suthep’s…”
“NO!” Time cut me off again. “No.”
“Okay,” I said. Time sighed and frowned at me, having grown tired of this game, but I continued, “Pretend Paint is friends with President Obama’s daughter…”
Time burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. She can can go.”
“She could go to the White House to play with Sasha or Malia, whichever is the younger one? The Obamas’ house is not dangerous."
“Yes, she can go.” Time and Paint both laughed.
I leaned across the table to get in Paint’s face. “When I get home I’ll ask my rich friends and family to request a playdate at the White House for you.” Then I turned to Time, “I don’t know what it’s like in Thailand, but in America when you have lots of money you can get pretty much anything you want from politicians.”
Paint laughed, “Same same.”
America and Thailand, so different and yet so (lamentably) similar.
No comments:
Post a Comment