There goes the neighbourhood

CHILD
A son or daughter; an unborn or young person; a minor.



Who are the children, and where are they as learners?

Thailand is too big of a place to see the children from all the corners of the country. It is unfair to make general assumptions, really, but there is no other option. When asked who the Thai children are, I have no choice but to give my opinions based on what I encounter and see everyday.

First, to put everything in context, a backgrounder.

We (the Winnipeggers who teach at Lertlah) live in the southwestern part of Bangkok, about 45 minutes from downtown, on the 69th soi (street) off the main road, Rama II. The neighbourhood is old, yet very vibrant. Everyday there are literally hundreds of street vendors out in the streets selling food, toys, clothing, accessories -- everything and anything. It is possible to never leave this area, really. Everything that is needed are all here, including three 7-11s.

There is an elementary school beside the apartment we stay at, yet we rarely venture that way because it is opposite the direction we go to work. Our apartment complex, called Kornkarn, is quite luxurious, and is the tallest building around. Our places don't have kitchens (it's a part of Thai culture to live outside, plus it's too hot to cook, anyway), so if we're ever hungry, we just go down the street to find what we want. Around the bend there is a clinic with a really nice English-speaking Thai doctor, several barbershops, a park, an exercise "gym" (it's a room, really), tons of eateries. Further down (about a rickshaw-ride away) is the Tesco Lotus, which is a multi-level superstore like Wal-Mart. Even further (a 5-minute taxi ride) is the huge Central Rama II Mall. Four floors, hundreds of stores. Everything we need, including western food. From Kornkarn, taxis, tuktuks, rickshaws, songthaews, and buses are easily accessible. We can get to anywhere we need to for cheap.

(A map of the local neighbourhood. Note the two schools in the vicinity.)

The children we encounter during our daily commute vary. In the morning as we head to work, we see a lot of uniformed kids walking to the school or getting dropped off via taxi, rickshaw, or motorcycle. Alot of them appear having just had a bath with a fresh layer of baby powder on their faces to keep their dark skins dry. The boys all have the same military-style buzz cut, while girls often appear in ponytails. The young ones can often be seen clinging to their parents tightly, but the older ones are more independent and occasionally can be seen buying snacks and lunches at the vendors.

Coming home, we see the children in their casual clothes -- often in shirts, shorts, and slippers -- playing and running around. Many hang around where their parents have set up shop, waiting until the sunset when the vendors pack for the night. Many occasionally say, hi, how are you? in their broken, limited English, not so much to strike up a conversation, but more for the entertainment being the farang (foreigners) we are. They don't usually understand anything we say back, but they do enjoy the little acknowledgment we give them.

Judging solely on their physical appearance and the characteristics of the area, I'd say that the children belong to lower class families. Not impoverished, however. I'm making the assumption that many of these families do not own cars or big luxury items, but I do know that they eat well and have clean clothes.

Watching them from my 6th floor window, I see children being themselves -- like children. They play, laugh, run, scream, joke, cry, love, inquire -- like children from Canada. Aside from cultural differences and the accepted social norms, these kids remind me of the very same kids that roamed around the local park in the West End area of Winnipeg, where I lived.

Take out cultural factors, kids are same-same and no different.


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"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about."
- Angela Schwindt

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