Hoje foi o aniversário do rei. Não houve aulas. A escola recebeu as directrizes para a cerimónia. Os professores planearam como iriam caminhar, como iriam decorar a sala, o que iriam vestir.
A cerimónia é chata. Os alunos em fila, ora têm de estar de pé, ora sentados, ora a fazer continência. Os professores que assistem, assim que podem voltam ao Facebook. Consigo sentir a impaciência das crianças.
Depois das várias fotografias com os alunos, professores e a fotografia do novo rei de fundo, está programado os alunos, divididos em três grupos, terem tarefas como apanhar lixo, plantar árvores dadas pelo governo ou limpar os edifícios. No grupo dos mais novos, que vão apanhar o lixo, está a Som, e eu junto-me a eles. Começo a apanhar lixo com eles, enquanto que os professores, imaculados, apenas os pastoreiam. Os alunos vêm-me ajudar mas as ordens são para avançar. Eu fico para trás pois eles não estão a apanhar todo o lixo.
Um professor vem ter comigo e diz-me para eu ir ajudar o grupo que planta árvores. Ou porque eu tenho uma enxada ou porque estava a fazer a outra tarefa demasiado bem.
Pergunto que árvores são. Ninguém sabe. Lá o director me consegue dizer. São muitas árvores. Sei que na escola não há espaço. Mas vão ser plantadas lá fora, ao pé do lago. Começam a plantar as árvores com a distância de um metro e eu digo-lhes que é muito perto. Mas como é demasiado difícil alongar a distância, eles dizem para não me preocupar. Como só há três enxadas para quase 65 alunos, vou buscar o balde do lixo ao pé da minha casa para que os outros me ajudem a limpar a área. É uma zona onde adolescentes costumam ir para beber whisky e fumar. Os sacos onde estavam as árvores já estavam a ficar no chão, enquanto os professorares, sorridentes, tiram fotografias a pegar nas árvores bebés. Os alunos lá começam a pôr os sacos no balde que trouxe e os que mais gostam de mim, ajudam-me também com o lixo.
A tarefa estava terminada. Os professores estavam com pressa de ir não sei aonde. Os professores mais novos tiram mais fotografias pendurados em balouços a sorrir.
Cheguei à conclusão que a preguiça dos tailandeses tem uma razão inevitável. O clima. Faz muito calor aqui e não lhes falta água. Desde Maio que chove quase todos os dias, e muito, e será assim até Setembro. Tudo cresce em todo o lado. Têm variadíssimas espécies de frutas e folhas comestíveis. Não têm de trabalhar muito. Agora olhem para os canadianos, os finlandeses, suecos, dinamarqueses, holandeses. Têm que ser criativos para sobreviver no Inverno. Têm de puxar pela cabeça e ser organizados. Os portugueses também, mas menos (não passam tanto frio). Sei que é difícil impor o meu ritmo europeu a esta gente, mas esta coisa da hipocrisia, da forma sem conteúdo, mata-me.
Não há para aí um sítio sem telefones espertos?
(Passados três meses apenas duas das dezenas de árvores sobreviveram mantendo o mesmo tamanho. Também percebi que o local serve de passagem e pasto a dezenas de búfalos diariamente.)
Today was the king's birthday. There were no classes. The school received the guidelines for the ceremony. The teachers planned how they would walk, how they would decorate the room, what they would wear.
The ceremony is boring. The students are in line, now they have to be standing, sometimes sitting, sometimes saluting.
Teachers who attend, when they can, go back to Facebook. I can feel the impatience of the children.
After photographs with students, teachers and the new king's picture on the background, it's planned that students, divided in three groups, have tasks as garbage collection, plantation of trees given by the government, or buildings cleaning. In the group of the younger ones, which are going to pick up the garbage, is Som, and I join them. I start picking up trash with them, while the immaculate teachers just herd them. The students come to help me but the orders are to move forward. I stay behind because they are not picking up all the trash.
A teacher comes to me and tells me to go and help the group planting trees. Either because I have a hoe or because I was doing the other task too well.
Wonder what trees are. Nobody knows. There the director can tell me. There are many trees. I know there's no space in school. But they will be planted outside near the shore of the lake. They begin to plant the trees at a distance of one meter and I tell them that it is very close. But as it is too difficult to stretch the distance, they say don't worry. Since there are only three hoes for almost 65 students, I'm going to get the trash bin near my house so the others can help me to clear the area. It's an area where teenagers usually go to drink whiskey and smoke. The plastic bags where the trees were, were already being left on the ground, while the teachers, smiling, take photos showing the baby trees. The students start to place the bags in the bucket and the ones who like me, also help me with the garbage.
The task was finished. The teachers were in a hurry to go, I don't know where. Younger teachers take more pictures hanging on swings and smiling.
I have come to the conclusion that the laziness of the Thais has an unavoidable reason. The weather. It's very hot here and they have plenty of water. Since May it rains almost every day, and a lot, and it will be like this until September. Everything grows everywhere. They have many varieties of fruits and edible leaves. They don't have to work hard. Now look at the Canadians, the Finnish, the Swedes, the Danes, the Germans. They have to be creative to survive in the winter. They have to pull by their head and be organized. The Portuguese too, but less (not so cold). I know that it's difficult to impose my European rhythm on these people, but this hypocrisy, of the form without content, kills me.
Is there a place without smart phones?
(After three months, only two of the dozens of trees survived having the same size. I also realized that the place is a passage and pasture for dozens of buffaloes daily.)
(Passados três meses apenas duas das dezenas de árvores sobreviveram mantendo o mesmo tamanho. Também percebi que o local serve de passagem e pasto a dezenas de búfalos diariamente.)
 |
| A minha indignação - My indignation |
Today was the king's birthday. There were no classes. The school received the guidelines for the ceremony. The teachers planned how they would walk, how they would decorate the room, what they would wear.
The ceremony is boring. The students are in line, now they have to be standing, sometimes sitting, sometimes saluting.
Teachers who attend, when they can, go back to Facebook. I can feel the impatience of the children.
After photographs with students, teachers and the new king's picture on the background, it's planned that students, divided in three groups, have tasks as garbage collection, plantation of trees given by the government, or buildings cleaning. In the group of the younger ones, which are going to pick up the garbage, is Som, and I join them. I start picking up trash with them, while the immaculate teachers just herd them. The students come to help me but the orders are to move forward. I stay behind because they are not picking up all the trash.
A teacher comes to me and tells me to go and help the group planting trees. Either because I have a hoe or because I was doing the other task too well.
Wonder what trees are. Nobody knows. There the director can tell me. There are many trees. I know there's no space in school. But they will be planted outside near the shore of the lake. They begin to plant the trees at a distance of one meter and I tell them that it is very close. But as it is too difficult to stretch the distance, they say don't worry. Since there are only three hoes for almost 65 students, I'm going to get the trash bin near my house so the others can help me to clear the area. It's an area where teenagers usually go to drink whiskey and smoke. The plastic bags where the trees were, were already being left on the ground, while the teachers, smiling, take photos showing the baby trees. The students start to place the bags in the bucket and the ones who like me, also help me with the garbage.
The task was finished. The teachers were in a hurry to go, I don't know where. Younger teachers take more pictures hanging on swings and smiling.
I have come to the conclusion that the laziness of the Thais has an unavoidable reason. The weather. It's very hot here and they have plenty of water. Since May it rains almost every day, and a lot, and it will be like this until September. Everything grows everywhere. They have many varieties of fruits and edible leaves. They don't have to work hard. Now look at the Canadians, the Finnish, the Swedes, the Danes, the Germans. They have to be creative to survive in the winter. They have to pull by their head and be organized. The Portuguese too, but less (not so cold). I know that it's difficult to impose my European rhythm on these people, but this hypocrisy, of the form without content, kills me.
Is there a place without smart phones?
(After three months, only two of the dozens of trees survived having the same size. I also realized that the place is a passage and pasture for dozens of buffaloes daily.)
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