par-tay

Last night I was reminded of why my students don't listen.

We were made to attend the 60th birthday/retirement party for three teachers from our school yesterday.

Two MCs started off the program with what I can only assume to be some cleverly-scripted banter. As our table of farangs sat watching them and eating our Pad Thai, I noticed that no one else was looking their way, much less listening to them.

The principal of the school (who's kind of a big deal) also got up to give a speech. Not a head turned; people just kept on with their dinner conversations.

The same thing happened at the Queen's birthday back in August. It baffled me just as much then as it did last night.

I don't know where I got the silly notion that if someone has a microphone, they're probably saying something important.

Later in the evening, alumni, students, and teachers gave performances ranging from beautiful to amusing to offensive to the ear.

The Prathom teachers did a traditional Thai dance, which was SO fun to watch. The women looked beautiful -- like painted dolls. We all agreed that Aekapol (a guy I teach with twice a week) was 10 times more graceful than any of us.

Next, one of the Chinese teachers did a traditional Chinese dance. She wore a gorgeous gown covered in light blue and gold sequins. The way she moved was mesmerizing. Sometimes her arms looked like cobras. Other times, her hands looked like twitterpated birds chasing each other.

Four male teachers ballroom danced together. One was wearing a dress made of a black trash bag covered in colorful paper flowers. We thought perhaps he was supposed to be a ladyboy. There was a female teacher in the same bag dress with a flower in her mouth, trying to get the attention of the dancing men. Not sure what the point of this skit was.

The final act was a traditional Thai song performed by one of the custodial staff. I can't imagine a world in which it would meet any criteria for beauty, but, inexplicably, everyone cheered as she sang the first few words. It was kind of like a nasal Tarzan yell. Really, no description can do justice to the sound, so I'll leave it at that.

But Mariela was right when she leaned over and said to me, "Just think: In all our lives, we'll never, ever attend another work party quite like this one."