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Moving to Thailand for My Child's International School
墨書 Inktalez
In the sweltering heat of Bangkok, the sound of taxi horns blared incessantly as I anxiously navigated through the crowded streets with my briefcase in hand.
“Dad, I want ice cream!” My son's innocent voice cut through my last shred of sanity like a thunderclap. I turned around and hoisted him onto my shoulder.
“Today, no one can stop me from slacking off! Not even The Almighty!” I said fiercely into the air, completely ignoring the strange looks from those around me, knowing they couldn't understand Chinese anyway.
“Dad, who is The Almighty? Is he more powerful than the principal?” My son's naive question took me aback.
Why should I be afraid of the principal? After all, I had spent my entire fortune to get him into this international school.
“The Almighty is... um... well...” I stammered, struggling to come up with a suitable explanation.
“The Almighty is the one Uncle Somchai talked about, the shiny god at the temple!” my son excitedly added.
I shook my head helplessly; that rascal Somchai was teaching my son all sorts of nonsense.
“Yes, yes, that's right! Much more powerful than the principal!” I replied dismissively, while thinking to myself that no matter how powerful a deity might be, they couldn't interfere with the troubles of an international school.
“Then why would he want to stop you from slacking off?” My son pressed on.
“Because he wants you to perform in a play!” I quickly thought of a clever response.
Sure enough, my son fell silent. After a moment, he cautiously asked me, “Dad, can I really play Sun Wukong?”
“Of course you can, as long as...” I deliberately stretched out my words, “as long as you can convince the principal.”
As soon as he heard this, he immediately slid down from my shoulder and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the principal's office.
"Principal Manee! Principal Manee!" he shouted while running, his clear voice echoing in the hallway.
I was being dragged along, my briefcase bouncing behind me as if silently protesting.
The door to the principal's office was ajar, and my son didn't knock; he simply pushed the door open and walked in.
"Principal Manee, my dad said I can play Sun Wukong!" he exclaimed excitedly as he ran up to the principal's desk, looking up at her with a bright face.
I stood at the doorway, awkwardly smiling at Principal Manee.
Principal Manee was a woman in her fifties from Thailand, slender yet energetic. She wore a well-tailored Thai outfit, her hair neatly styled, and she had a warm smile on her face.
"Mr. Li, please come in and have a seat," Principal Manee gestured to the chair in front of me, inviting me to sit down.
I nervously took a seat, feeling like a schoolboy waiting for a teacher's reprimand.
"Mr. Li, I am very pleased that Li Ming is so interested in the play," Principal Manee said slowly. "However, the role of Sun Wukong requires performing some Chinese Kung Fu. I'm not sure if Li Ming..."
"I can do it! I can do it!" my son interrupted eagerly, unable to wait for Principal Manee to finish speaking as he began to demonstrate his version of "Chinese Kung Fu."
He struck a comical pose and clumsily waved his arms while making strange sounds like "hey ha."
I sighed and rubbed my forehead; this was hardly Kung Fu—it was more like a chaotic dance.
Principal Manee suppressed a smile, patiently watching my son's "performance," then turned to me and said, "Mr. Li, as you can see, Li Ming's Chinese Kung Fu still needs improvement."
I awkwardly smiled, cursing inwardly, this kid is just causing me trouble.
"How about this, Mr. Li? If you can get Li Ming to learn authentic Chinese Kung Fu and also learn to make a Thai dish, I will consider letting him play the role of Sun Wukong," Principal Manee said with a beaming smile, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
I was instantly stunned. What does cooking have to do with performing in a stage play?
Seeing my bewildered expression, Principal Manee explained, "Learning Chinese Kung Fu is to help Li Ming better understand and interpret the character of Sun Wukong, while learning to cook Thai cuisine will help him better integrate into Thai culture."
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something but unsure of what to say.
"That's settled then, Mr. Li. I look forward to your good news," Principal Manee said as he stood up, signaling for me to leave.
Reluctantly, I stood up and followed Principal Manee out of the office.
"Dad, where are we going now?" my son asked eagerly as he followed behind me.
Looking at my son's innocent smile, I felt a mix of emotions.
"We're going to learn Chinese Kung Fu and also how to make Thai cuisine!" I gritted my teeth and said, my tone filled with resignation.
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