“You shouldn’t really thank people so much,” my friend Jay said. “People here aren’t used to being thanked so much.”
“You mean the the guy who’s serving us?”
“Yeah, Thais don’t really thank people who serve them. It’s just not done here.”
Jay is British and has lived in Thailand for about 14 years now. We became friends in late 2001 when I began working here in Bangkok. Jay and I started on the same day. His Thai is now perfect.
“But he’s serving us. I always thank people who serve me. In fact, at home I consider how people treat a waiter or waitress a mark of character. It’s important to show gratitude to people who do things for you.”
“Yes, but that’s not how Thais see it. Thanking a server loses face. You’re putting yourself below someone serving you. So, they find it kind of funny when you do that.”
I continued thanking the nice people at the pad Thai stall anyway as I do all people who cook, serve or help me. They didn’t look like they minded and in fact, looked appreciative. In my time in Thailand, I’ve never seen anyone look uncomfortable or unhappy being thanked. I’m certainly not afraid of losing face and especially not by showing gratitude.
However, Jay’s comment got me thinking. I try not to be culturally biased. I recognize that cultures develop within their own contexts and comparisons are rarely useful or good. Still, the idea of not thanking someone working hard for so little saddened me.
The nice, elderly hardworking couple that made and served us dinner at a sidewalk food cart with folding tables earned a whopping 70 Baht or about $2.33 off us. On a busy night, I imagine these people might earn between $20 and $30. Because Thailand lacks any form of government retirement or social security program, the 60+ couple could well continue working into their 80s unless their family can afford to care for them.
Who deserves thanks more than people like these?
But that’s the thing about classism, or more importantly – castes. To one degree or another, every society has its strata. Some place more emphasis on them than others and thankfully some societies allow for upward mobility.
When I lived here I had a girlfriend for several months. She worked in the computing and communications office of the school and university where I taught. Nok had a degree in computer science and has since earned a master’s and PhD. She comes from an upper middle class Southern Thai family – a family that purchased a house in Bangkok for their daughters to live while going through university and beginning careers.
One day we were heading back to my apartment from lunch. I always went to the same som tam (spicy green papaya salad) stand down the soi and if my favorite security guard was on duty at my apartment complex, I bought him some som tam and BBQ chicken too. Nok had known me for more than a month at that point and asked why I would bring som tam to a security guard.
“He’s from Issan (the poor provinces of the northeast). He came to Bangkok so he can go to university. He works to pay for school and works 12-hour shifts six days a week and gets paid 3,000 Baht a month (at that time $68). To me, 20 Baht to buy him lunch or dinner is nothing. To him, that’s a lot of money and he can barely afford to get by. He doesn’t have the advantages you or I have. Why not give him som tam?”
Nok was amazed that I thought about it this way. I was amazed that she never had. It wasn’t like she was a selfish or stuck up person. It just wasn’t her cultural outlook. Nok would have given money to a beggar with a bowl on the street and she certainly would feed a Buddhist monk. But the idea of helping the working poor wasn’t on her radar.
Thai social stratification.
Since we came to Region 3 (Southeast Asia), I have thought a lot about the differences between here and Region 2 (India and Nepal). Both regions have their share of poverty. Both have some extreme wealth. However, nowhere in this region has the destitution and indignity that you see on streets of India.
In Vietnam I asked Emily, “Why has this country come so far in the past 30 years and not Nepal? What’s the difference?” And in Laos, “Why does this very poor and undeveloped country live so much differently than Nepal?”
Both times, she answered, “The caste system.”
And that’s it.
The idea of being inherently better and of more worth than another human being – or perhaps more accurately, that one person’s life is worth less than another’s – is repugnant to me. I believe it holds back the societies that subscribe to it. No matter how I try not to judge, it’s one of the few things this year I just can’t shake. It bothers me to my core.
Is it because I’m American and even with our faults and mistakes, we proudly hold up the idea of “all men are created equal”? I realize that hasn’t always been the case – and in practice still isn’t in all respects in our country. But it’s an ideal we strive for and values in which we believe.
As a child, my parents taught me that people of all ethnicities and races are people. End of story. We’re all the same and no one has any more or less right than anyone else. And I believed them – and still do.
“I’m really proud of you!” my mom said to me one day after meeting my college mentor, Dr. Ronald C. Smith.
“Why?”
“You’ve been talking about Dr. Ron for almost two years and you never mentioned he was black. I had no idea.”
“Should I have?”
“No. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. That means we did a good job,” she said.
Yet, from November through January Emily and I were surrounded by people who weren’t different colors, races, ethnicities or religions. They were the same people from the same places who saw each other every day – and they could see differences plain as day that were invisible to me. The caste system is both fascinating and cruel.
I wonder if the difference in outlook doesn’t run deeper. Could it be that the western Judeo-Christian ethic makes the difference? Although there are countless violations throughout history and countries, the western religions favor ideas of equality, human rights and justice. In theory, people are people – and all of inestimable worth.
Even if my society and similar ones don’t always live out their values, they have them. That’s why people like Mother Theresa could walk into Calcutta, find herself shocked and also inspired to help. She was true to her values and had the rare fortitude and selflessness to do the work she did.
Of course, just because Thais don’t thank food servers doesn’t mean they don’t have value on human life. Social cohesion in Thailand and throughout most of Asia plays an important role in social welfare.
In Thailand, people share their food. There’s so much of it and it’s so cheap. There’s always room to feed the hungry. Thais also create jobs. The culture seems to favor having many low paying jobs than a few well paying ones. So, restaurants, banks, airlines – practically all businesses – have massive staffs, most of whom do fairly little. Every building in Bangkok has at least one security guard. It’s not that they’re all needed – it just employs more people. Better to have three people earn 3,000 Baht a month than one person earn 9,000 Baht. At the end of the day, people go home and pool their money with other working family members. As a family unit, they make enough to get by.
Singapore uses a national healthcare system that provides universal coverage, but also rests on integrity of the Asian family structure. When elder members of a family have more medical expenses than they have money in their health insurance accounts, family members and friends can transfer money from their social welfare accounts to support their elders. Singapore’s ingenious system of universal coverage without socialized medicine relies on a strong family unit in which elders and children are revered. Without it, the system would crumble.
In their various ways and approaches, the people of Southeast Asia – like Americans and Europeans – have social strata and classes. But not the life sentence or incredible privilege of a caste.
Chinese cultures have upward mobility. A clever businessman can go from rags to riches in the same way an American can. Does it happen all the time? No, of course not. But it can and sometimes does.
There’s no escaping the fact that our lives are shaped heavily by where and to whom we’re born. Nothing brings that home like travel. Why do Emily and I get to flit through cities and countries while others who can’t afford to go anywhere cook and clean for us? Mainly because we were born to our parents who raised us in beautiful and loving homes, gave us advantages ranging from braces to summer camp to educations at wonderful universities.
We weren’t any more worthy of these things than millions if not billions of people around the world. We were just fortunate and blessed.
Most of the people we’ve encountered in Regions 2 and 3 had nothing of what we did. In fact, most of them – even if they do alright – can’t get visas to come to our country. Yet we can go just about anywhere we want. There’s nothing fair about that.
“The American Embassy in Manila is the most religious place in the Philippines,” a Filipino couple we met on our cruise of Halong Bay, Vietnam told us. “Everyone there is praying to get their visa.”
Amazingly, we have passports.
If anything, our travels have made me reflect on what defines individuals and societies. What’s fair? What’s right? What are other ways of doing things that we can learn from? What do we want to change? For what should we strive? For what do we fight? How do we fit in? How do we contribute?
I’m still working on all of these. I have my own limited answers to bits and pieces. I’m not sure we ever figure it all out in a lifetime.
One thing I’m sure of is that I want to always say “thank you.”
Sent from my iPad
