Excerpts from Christy Peaslee's Letters Home:

The summer before I left for Thailand was spent doing a lot of physical preparation: gathering backpacking gear, exercising, reading about the culture, etc. I did not, however, spend much time in emotional preparation. I often felt like I was spending so much time and energy reassuring those close to me that I would be safe and healthy during my travel abroad, and speaking superficially and mechanically about study abroad (example: Random Person: "Oh, you're going to Thailand? What a great opportunity, you must be so excited!" Me: "Yes, it should be great.") that I suppressed all my own emotions to keep a positive attitude. I felt my attitude was similar to the infamous Thai smile I had read so much about: always act happy, and never show waht is truly going on internally. The end result was that I didn't spend much time thinking about the risks (especially sickness), cultural differences and how I would handle them, communication difficulties, and new sights, sounds and smells I would encounter. Up until the day I left, Thailand seemed very surreal.

Smiling in Thailand does not necessarily indicate happiness. My host sister once gave me a sheet with around 25 different kinds of smiles that Thais use, including the "I just ripped you off and you don't know it" smile, the "you just really offended/hurt/angered me, but I'll act like everything is okay so that you will never find out" smile, and the "I'm so happy because I just won the lottery" smile. I have learned that when the Thais smile at me, it isn't necessarily because they are happy with me, but it might be a mechanism to smooth over an uncomfortable or awkward and potentially confrontational situation. The Thai smile makes my learning process particularly challenging, because I may commit a cultural bluner, yet often nobody will point it out to me.

For example, the first night I was here, my host mother showed me how to wash my clothes (by hand, in a bucket). In the United States, we generally wash everything together, including bras and underwear. In Thailand, however, you DO NOT (as I found out the next day in orientation) wash your bras, underwear, and socks with anything else, as they are considered dirty items. It was very frustrating because my host mother watched me and smiled, so I figured that I was doing everything right. In reality, I was probably really offending her.

Thais not only utilize the Thai smile constantly, but they expect falangs (Thai for "foreigner") to do so as well. Generally, I smile a lot, but sometimes, after a long day of classes, I am tired and stressed, or I am feeling homesick, and so I may not smile as frequently. My host sister literally tells me to smile, and prods at me until I do. I am mastering the use of the Thai smile, as I am finding it to be particularly handy. By constantly smiling, I am able to think and feel what I want, yet ward off any questions or prodding by Thais (who become very concerned that something is wrong if you don't). I know we use the "Thai smile" in the United States, but not nearly to the same extent as here, and not for the same reasons. Americans are more confrontational, with a direct form of communication (if you make me mad, I will tell you, and we will handle it then and there), whereas Thais prefer indirect communication (I may say something to a third party, who will confront the person who upset me, but I also may not say anything). Americans are much more apt to express extreme emotions (such as sadness and anger) whereas Thais prefer to express happiness.

Uniforms in Thailand exist mainly to put a person in place (by age and occupation, especially). Thais are constantly trying to determine the pi-nong relationship between two people. Pi's are the older of two, and nong's are the younger. A pi is expected to pay for meals, etc. and protect the nong. In return, the nong is expected to follow any orders of the pi (this situation is generally not abused). A quick example is that my host sister (Pi Anny) pays for all my meals when I eat with her and any outings we go on together. In return, I may be expected to peel fruit for her, or open a bottle. Everybody plays the role of a pi and nong throughout their lives, so things even out.

Anyway, a uniform helps Thais determine who is older, and therefore who will play the pi and nong; this is easier than having to ask age, etc. I have also noticed that when I wear my uniform, I am respected and treated better than when I do not. My taxi rates are lower, people are more willing to talk with me (they're willing to speak Thai, which helps me practice the language), they don't point and blatantly talk about me (as they would if I were dressed otherwise), etc. I feel much more as if I have a place in the society when I am in my uniform. It is funny how something I would despise so much in the United States has become something I really appreciate in Thailand.