When starting a job overseas you never really know what to expect.
Kiwi Kate Coles didn't expect the polyester uniform.

I'm not sure what I expected of a Thai school but this wasn't it. It was, for one, Catholic, so in a country well over 90% Buddhist I found myself surrounded by statues of the virgin Mary and photos of the Pope. I'd known for some time that 'Catholic girls rule' but hadn't heard much about their male counterparts.

I wasn't to have any classes for the first week and a half. Required to be on campus, however, I was able to thoroughly acquaint myself with the school zoo, the rather limited English language section of the library (a highlight being The Alpine Grasses of Eastern Europe - A Pictorial Guide) and the entire menu of the cafeteria. It turns out that Thai bakers, whilst next to useless at attempting a loaf of bread, are quite sensational at banana cake.

Little did I know I was to undergo a complete transformation before they'd let me anywhere near a classroom. Thus, 'Miss Kate' was born and along with this jaunty title came a uniform. Six days after a trip to the dressmaker I arrived at work to find two brand spanking new purple polyester suits with my name on them. The suits had been cut on the frumpy side to discourage any inappropriate imaginings on the parts of the boys and designed to hobble the wearer so as to prevent any unlady-like striding (or indeed, walking). They were so restrictive that I can only imagine the diminutive Thai dressmaker couldn't believe her eyes when she saw my European measurements - surely women don't come that big do they? In class I was only able to write on a small portion of the board because my arms were effectively strapped to my side, and picking something up off the floor became positively pornographic.

Life soon fell into a lazy rhythm only occasionally interrupted by inexplicable and sudden public holidays, and every day at 3pm my boys would leapt out of their chairs at the first strains of the Queen's song, which is always followed by the King's song, and the national anthem. After a few weeks I had mastered the art of dashing to the office just before the 8am anthem during which everyone is expected to drop everything and face the nearest flag.

I was often amused by the topsy-turveyness of life in Thailand. This is a land where mangoes are cheap and apples expensive. People put on more clothes to go swimming than they wear normally. Tanning lotions are replaced on chemist's shelves by whitening creams. Women pluck their armpits and shave their eyebrows. All bras are padded, even sports bras. Men touch men and women touch women but rarely each other. No wonder we sometimes got it wrong. Crossing the school grounds one day a Thai colleague raced after me and insisted on giving me an umbrella whilst gesturing at the sky. I looked up into the cloudless blue wondering if there was a tropical storm on the way. Touched by the gesture I tucked the brolly under my arm in preparation for the forthcoming downfall and wandered off to the cafeteria. Flawless white skin, I was to find out later, is considered beautiful and so at the slightest sign of sunshine all manner of objects are used to protect the skin from even a hint of bronze. My students were of course horrified when I returned from a beach considerably browner than when I'd left.

Page 1 | 2