How I Met My First Muay Thai Teacher

Yesterday, I decided to finally visit a temple. There is a huge temple near our hotel, so I walked over after orientation was done for the day. I reached an entrance where cars were passing through, stopping by a small booth on the side, where a man was issuing parking permits. I gestured toward the road, asking in English if I could enter. I watched as he tried to formulate a sentence in English, but he seemed to give up. He smiled, resorting to pointing and gesturing toward a different road. I figured there was a different pedestrian entrance, so I thanked him and made my way to the other side.

The temple was beautiful, and there seemed to be a few different ceremonies about to take place, with people filing into the various rooms. As I made my way around to see the different halls and statues, it started to rain. And when it rains in Thailand, it pours. I was completely unequipped, with no umbrella and a cloth tote bag with my phone and passport. I thought I would wait it out, but the rain seemed to only fall heavier and heavier. It also began to flood, so I figured I might as well bite the bullet. After all, the hotel was only a short six minute walk away, if I exited from the car route rather than the pedestrian route. I stepped into the rain and was instantly soaked under three seconds. It didn't feel much like rain; it felt more like someone was pouring a bucket of water over my head. I made my way through the flooding streets, clinging onto my flip flops, and I ducked my head when I passed the booth with the parking permits, praying no one would see me. I was embarrassed to be that clueless foreigner who was walking out the wrong exit and was clearly unprepared for the weather. To my dismay, the man issuing the permits spotted me and called me over. I walked over with a sheepish smile, and he gestured for me to stand under the booth. "Sit, sit!" he told me, pointing to a chair behind him. I tried telling him mai bpen rai, it's okay, my clothes were dripping wet, but he insisted, so I sat. He spoke quickly with the other worker there, and I think they were searching for an extra umbrella. After an unsuccessful search, he smiled at me and repeated, "sit, sit."

I figured this was probably a great opportunity to practice my Thai, so I mustered up some courage and proceeded to speak to him with my broken Thai and horrible accent. "It's raining a lot," I said in Thai, and he smiled, nodding. We then proceeded to have a choppy, partially comprehensible conversation in Thai, where I used practically every phrase and sentence I've ever learned, with a bit of extra assistance from Google Translate. I learned that his nickname is Singhao, he's a police officer, he's been a police officer for 40 years, and he's 77. I learned that he's been to America, and his eldest daughter now lives in America after opening a Thai restaurant there. I told him about coming to Thailand to teach English. I told him that I would be staying in Kalasin for a year, and he started calling me "my Kalasin friend!" The most Thai vocab that I have is food-related, so I started peppering him with questions about food– about his favorite food, what cuisines he liked, if he could eat spicy foods, and what restaurants he recommended. He asked if I liked Pad Thai, and when I said chop maak! or I like it very much, he called out to a street vendor across from us for an order of Pad Thai, mai phet, not spicy. The woman across the street brought over a steaming plate of noodles, and when I tried to pay, Singhao insisted on paying. He watched me take my first bite, and when I looked up and said aroi maak! or so delicious, his entire face lit up. He laughed and gestured for me to eat. The Pad Thai was genuinely so delicious; it's probably my favorite meal here so far, and for once, I could handle the spice level. As I ate, I pulled out Google Translate again, trying to learn a bit more about Singhao. And that's when I found out that he was a professional Muay Thai fighter! I struggled to understand what he said most of the time, but when he put his fists up, I finally got it. He showed me pictures of when he was 20, winning a Muay Thai championship and taking a photo with the ninth king of Thailand. King Bhumibol the Great was literally the person who awarded him his championship. And that's when I realized that I'm now twice removed from the greatest king of Thailand.

Once Singhao saw that I had finished my noodles, his face lit up a second time, and he went to another street vendor to buy me a bag of pineapple slices. I kept asking him questions about Muay Thai, and while I couldn't comprehend most of his answers, he definitely picked up on my interest in practicing and watching Muay Thai.

He called over another worker from the temple to take over his shift for a bit, and he gestured for me to follow him. He led me through the temple, into a school in the back. We passed by a few tables where people were sitting and chatting, all of whom seemed to recognize Singhao, waving and smiling. And right by those tables was a Muay Thai ring surrounded by bags! Above the ring hung the framed photos he had showed me on his phone. One of the people sitting at the tables came over, pointed at Singhao, pointed at the photos, and said to me, "him! king!" He pulled out his phone, said "photo!" and snapped a photo of us. I could barely contain my excitement; I asked Singhao if he taught Muay Thai, and he told me that he did. Laew, khun bpen dtam ruat lae kruu muay thai? I asked. So you're a police officer and a Muay Thai teacher? He nodded. Phrung ni, sip hok na li ga he told me. Tomorrow, 4pm. He pointed at the ring. And that's how I scheduled my very first Muay Thai class in Thailand.

At 4pm sharp the next day, I arrived at the ticketing booth and waited for Singhao. By 4:10, I was getting a little nervous– maybe he wasn't going to show up. But I remembered the concept of Thai time, so I patiently waited. He arrived around 4:15, which I think is still considered early for Thai time, and greeted me with a huge smile on his face. He pulled a black jacket out of his car and handed it to me. I was honestly kind of confused and only later realized that it was a gift! So now we have matching Thai police jackets. We made our way back to the ring, stepped through the ropes, and just like that, we started training. I had no idea what he was saying the entire time except for the times he would call out di maak, or very good, but we still managed to work different combos with all the basic Muay Thai techniques. We spent some time on the bags working different kicks and knee strikes, where he would either call out sai (left) or kwaa (right), and I would take a wild guess as to what type of technique he was telling me to do. Thirty minutes (and a lot of sweating) later, we made our way back to the ticketing booth. We passed by several people who smiled and waved at Singhao, and each time, Singhao would point at me and declare, nak rian muay thai, or Muay Thai student, which would bring on on several cheers and applauds for me.

Back at the ticketing booth, Singhao began his shift, and I once again sat behind him, chatting with him when there were no cars passing through. He gave me a ya dom, or an inhaler, which is really popular across Thailand and available in practically any convenience or grocery store, telling me to smell it. They are these little packs that smell like Vicks Vaporub, containing some menthol and eucalyptus. He started telling me how he used to train every morning at 5am back in the 70s, with early runs and jump rope. He even started shadowboxing for a bit when there were no cars. He told me about his family and where he was from, and I told him about my family as well. He asked how much I would be making teaching English in Kalasin, and when I replied, he laughed and said that wasn't very much. He then insisted on buying me dinner again, and two of the street vendors across from us brought me a bag of pineapples and a Pad Kra Pow.

When I took my first bite of the Pad Kra Pow, I knew finishing it would be a challenge. While the mai phet Pad Thai was actually mai phet, this mai phet Pad Kra Pow was in fact very phet. Of course, I still said aroi maak as I dug in, trying to conceal my pain. Each time Singhao turned his back to me to issue a parking permit, I quickly and meticulously picked out as many chili peppers as I could, and when he turned back around, I continued eating as if my mouth wasn't on fire. When I was about halfway through my plate, Singhao looked at me and said, mai aroi? not delicious? and I quickly responded, aroi maak dtae phet nit noi, or very delcious, but a little spicy. He laughed and immediately called out to the street vendor that I liked it but it was too spicy for me. When I finally finished the dish, he laughed and applauded.

It was surprisingly fun watching Singhao issue parking permits; he seemed like he knew everyone passing by, and while I couldn't decipher what he said each time, he never failed to make each driver smile or laugh in their short five second exchange. Sometimes, some of the people passing by would look curiously at me, and Singhao would point at me and say, "champion!" and put up his fists. Some of the other workers would occasionally pop in to speak a few words to me in English or even Mandarin, and despite struggling to communicate with anyone who greeted me, I always felt a sense of being welcomed.

I have a feeling I'll be seeing Singhao a lot more during this month in Bangkok; he's already invited my friends and I to visit his home sometime, and he's scheduled another Muay Thai session for next week. Walking back to my hotel, I was definitely reflecting on this crazy, unique friendship that I've made during my first week in Thailand as well as the the cultural differences between America and Thailand. But I'll save that for another post.