Today's Thoughts...
Well, Elena and I thought it would be a great idea since we were talking about heroes, heroines, and celebrities to have our kids present on who their idols were, who they admired we said. Okay so I got a bunch of different answers—my Mom, Michael Jackson, the Princess of Thailand, Barack Obama— you know, the expected. And then…strangely enough I got hit with two doubles: Angelina Jolie and… Jesus Christ. Why two people in two separate classes both chose to do Jesus and Angelina (these being the ONLY repeat idols), I’m not quite sure? Perhaps there’s something of a resemblance going on there? You tell me. I mean… maybe… if you squint a bit. Long dark hair, even toned skin, the lips? I don’t know.
When I’m not being proselytized by my students, I sometimes visit hospitals in my spare time. As it worked out, to get a work permit you need a Thai health check up. To get a check up, you walk into a hospital, a sort of open air facility with a dog laying dead-like on the front porch (as they seem to do everywhere), a security guard on his cell phone (often bright red or pinkish with a dangly Hello Kitty or Pokemon charm if you look closely), and several women bustling about with papers dressed in white frocks with surgical masks. Well actually everyone has on a surgical mask except for you because you are foolish enough to come to an Asian country without yours seeing as how even when there is no H1N1 scare (swine flu), a good 1/5 of the population has one on at any given time. We have to wear them between classes to prevent the spread! More hygienic I think. Regardless, I was sure that if there was anywhere I was going to get H1N1 it was going to be here. I hear that sometimes the masks just block out nasty smells like car pollution, sewage water in the streets, and that large sweating tourist sitting next to you in the songtaew. But then again if it’s good scents you’re after, just grab a whiff of the good old sniff stick, a menthol stick that smells sort of like Vicks, makes you feel mildly lightheaded, relieves all smells, good and bad, and is religiously snorted by several of my less-than-attentive students in the back row of my General English class. I promise you they’re getting high back there, but I have yet to find a way to bust them for it. I mean, what would you say? Stop right now and give me that crack stick? That nose plug? That menthol-injecting rod? Back to the hospital.
We walk in. Step up to the receptionist and say: Work Permit. Check Up. Perfectly mimicking the tones that our teacher friends taught us to say our non-tonal English words in because if you use the wrong tone even in English sometimes you do not say real words… what? English is English! There are no tones! Why on earth am I trying to remember how to say “Wok Paaaaahmeet. Chik. AAhp.” Last time I checked, they were English words! Ah, but in Thailand, we do it the Thai way and when you’ve spoken a tonal language all your life like most everyone here has, it is certainly hard to change midstream whatever new language you are acquiring. So we interlopers in this Thai paradise adapt. Wok Paaaaahmeet it is then.
We are handed several forms with moderately intimidating information and fill out precisely three blanks: name, birth date, request: Work Permit. No passport, no cell number, no emergency contact, no prior health care, nada. We sit for a bit in the waiting room. A small boy on a stretcher rolls by, his leg bandaged and his mother clutching the gurney. A bit unsettling. Then a nurse approaches us and I am systematically weighed and found to be fat. I’m not told this of course, but the look on the nurse’s face when she reads my whopping 59kg (roughly 130 lbs.) was enough to assure me that I was mammoth. Then I am asked: Have any allergies? No. Have any sick? No. Have any problems? No. Please sit. So we sit some more. An elderly lady is rolled past on a bed, staring open-mouthed at the ceiling. I'm sure she has H1N1 or worse or maybe she's just bored. Her gurney comes to a halt not far from us while the nurses chatter about near her. No, she looks like I feel— terrified. She is wheeled away. Several more limping, hobbling, and otherwise not so happy looking patrons roll and stroll through as we wait. Then we are finally called in to see the doctor.
Sit please. English language or pasa Thai? English, please. Have any allergies? No. Have any sick? No. Have any problems? No. Please breathe (she holds the stethoscope to my chest). Yes. Very good. Healthy. And she signs my form and off we go to pay our hefty 100 baht fee for the check up. 100 baht? Yes, that’s $3.50. We walk out with our papers, eager to flee the sick ward, but thoroughly pleased. Sometimes, I just love this place.
