Learning a new language is difficult. Have I mentioned that? They say that the best way to learn a language is to be immersed in it. I tend to agree. The only thing about immersion is that one has to be immersed to learn by immersion. That means living in a land where no one speaks your language.

I’ve done that twice this year.

I have learned some French and I have learned some Thai, but I think I’ve also learned something else. I’ve learned to listen with my eyes. I’ve learned to give my attention. I’ve learned to smile and to nod my head. And with children, I’ve learned that if one combines this with the playfulness of spinning and hoisting and tickling, they really don’t care what you understand. They like you.

This is not to say that I haven’t endured the humiliation of language blunders. I have. Just a few.

A few months ago I was working with students and villagers at a market in Chiang Mai. Afterwards, I caught the Fang bus back to the project.

The Fang bus is big and red, it has no air-conditioner, and on this day, it was packed. After being turned away like Forest Gump by one elderly couple, a mother and daughter made a little room for me on their seat. I half-cheeked it for about 2 hours of the 3 1/2 hour trip.

At some point I looked behind me and saw that someone in the back of the bus was smiling and waving at me. I recognized him from UHDP. I had met him once, in passing, for about a second.

With a little more than an hour to go, the bus stopped. People got off, took a break, bought stuff, and then reloaded. The seat next to me was now open, so the smiley guy came and sat down beside me.

After about 15 minutes we had exhausted our conversational possibilities. Smiling had worn thin, and so we awkwardly turned to ourselves and stopped communicating. He seemed to be content. I wasn’t. I needed to know him and I needed to practice Thai, so I began trying to ask him questions. He would kindly respond, and I found that I could understand about 60 % of what he was saying to me. I then decided that if I could discern some of the unknown words that he kept repeating I might be able to comprehend much more. So I picked a word.

“Boncha arai?” (what is Boncha?) He looked confused. I asked again: “Boncha ARAI?” He tried to explain.

After several attempts at explanation he seemed abnormally flustered. He held up his hands, turned to face forward, and he indicated to me that he was done with our conversation.

After about 15 mintues I asked again: “BONCHA ARAI?” He worked with me for a few more minutes before he gave up again. The rest of the trip was mostly silent.

The next day I was having a meal with Rick (UHDP founder) and Sara (volunteer). Sara said something that caught my attention. She was telling a story about one of the male staffers, a guy named Boncha.

Illumination. It just so happens that Thai people often refer to themselves in the 3rd person. It’s quite normal.

So the next time you’re at a party and you run into someone that you know you should know, but you just can’t remember their name, think of me as you’re nudging your buddy for help.

“Yes, that’s very interesting, but what is this Boncha you speak of?”