Life in Thailand

Redmond O’Hanlon

For twenty five years I taught English to the Royal Thai Air Force in Bangkok. I am now fifty two years old, and I suffer from late onset Friedrich’s Ataxia, which has been progressing slowly over the past twenty years.

When I first noticed the symptoms, I spent a period of time in hospital in Dublin, without any definitive results, and during subsequent vacations in Ireland I had a series of further tests, including MRI scans, but I wasn’t correctly diagnosed until researchers successfully isolated the Friedrich’s Ataxia gene, some years ago, and the disease showed up in a genetic blood test. At the time, there was no treatment on offer, and I was at a loss what to do.

I made contact with Marie O’Donoghue, from Cork City. She had brought a successful constitutional action against the Irish Government on behalf of her son, who suffered from severe Cerebral Palsy. She demanded that they provide him with an education commensurate with his ability. Through her, I heard about the Peto Institute in Budapest, Hungary, which provides a system of conductive education for disabled people, to activate parts of the brain not normally used, and maximise mobility. I went there for three week sessions over a period of five years, and found the results very beneficial at first. Finally, however, there was no more noticeable improvement, and I stopped attending, but I still do their designated exercises for muscle toning, on a daily basis, for one hour. I find them very helpful.

I had to adapt my life style in Bangkok to the physical limitations of my illness, and I managed to live a positive and fulfilling life there. I had an apartment on the eleventh floor in central Bangkok, located twenty miles away from my work place, at the Don Muang Air Base. Work started at 08.00 am each morning, so I had to get up at 05.00 am, as basic things like taking a shower, shaving, tying shirt buttons took me a long time! I would then take a motor bike taxi from my apartment block to the Air Base. Traffic jams in Bangkok exist on a twenty four hour basis, and there are several thousand motor bike taxis available. There are no taxi ranks, but the drivers are easily recognisable as they wear a distinctive bright orange uniform jacket, and can be flagged down anywhere. They weave in and out between the cars and buses, and my journey to work would take under forty minutes, with my driver travelling at speeds of up to 120 km per hour. A dangerous escapade, for me, especially in the pouring rain during the monsoon season. At such times, traffic comes to a complete standstill, and on one occasion my motor bike skidded on a slick of oil, and we were both thrown to the ground. Apart from some minor cuts and bruises, neither of was injured. Many onlookers came to our assistance, and they were very seriously concerned that I was badly hurt when they saw me staggering about. They wanted to call an ambulance for me, but I reassured them that I was fine, and that I always walked that way!

I found the climate in Bangkok far less taxing on the system than the cold and wet of Ireland. It was always good for my morale to wake up every morning to bright sunshine, and I enjoyed the heat. It is essential for all FA sufferers to try to avoid stress at all times and in general the Thai people are easy going and good natured, so it was agreeable for me living in the ‘Land of Smiles’, as it is known. On rare occasions, when I was in a stressful situation, and due to my irregular heartbeat, I sometimes suffered from blackouts. Fortunately, they never lasted longer than two or three seconds, but invariably I ended up on the ground, once or twice necessitating stitches in my head.

The Thai diet also benefited me greatly when I stuck to it. A wide selection of fruit and vegetables are always available cheaply. Even good Thai restaurants only charge a fraction of the price of eating out in Ireland. On weekdays I ate the local fare, but on weekends, when I met up with some of my expatriate friends, I often ended up eating out at western-style hotel buffets. I noticed a marked deterioration in my speech after I had consumed a quantity of either ice cream or chocolate. I had a strict policy of staying away from alcohol during the week, because of my 05.00 am start for work. At weekends, however, I treated myself to a few glasses of wine, or a couple of bottles of beer, but never let myself get drunk, as it had a detrimental effect on my health and my morale.

My students in the Language Centre were always very eager to learn English, as they were often rewarded for their efforts with an overseas scholarship. There were no disciplinary problems as they had to impress their senior officers at all stages, being members of the military. Although the development of my disease meant that I was no longer able to write, this was not a major hurdle, as I was able to concentrate on my students’ advanced conversational techniques. I taught all ranks from the level of sergeant up to the level of four star general. The ratio of male to female students was 80:20, and their ages ranged from twenty to sixty. The Language Centre was on the second floor of the building, without any lift, so each day I had to climb up three flights of stairs. Sometimes , if I was lucky, one of my stronger students would give me a piggy-back One student had to scout ahead to make sure that none of my senior colleagues was about, as they concerned that I might sue the Air Force if I or my trusty steed fell on the journey…

In Bangkok I used a total of three wheelchairs – two at the Air Base, one upstairs and one downstairs, and one which I kept at my apartment block. I travelled up and down in the lift, but as I lived in a small bedsitter, I used a zimmer frame to walk around inside, and left the wheelchair either in the corridor outside the flat, or in the reception area downstairs. One good thing about the Buddhist culture is the fear of bad Karma, so as a result, nobody would dare to steal a wheelchair from a disabled person, However, a negative feature of this was that some people assumed I was now being punished for having performed some terrible evil deed in a former existence! On one occasion when there was a power failure at the apartment block, I had to be carried down all eleven floors by two other tenants, while seated regally on my wheelchair - a bit like the old days, when the gentry were carried about in a sedan chair! I swam for a few hours in the swimming pool of a local hotel, every weekend. I found swimming to be extremely therapeutic in combatting FA. However, in recent years, on three occasions, I suffered from momentary blackouts while in the deep end, and had to be rescued by a waiter and a hotel guest, who jumped in fully clothed when he saw me struggling!

As I worked for the government, all medical and dental services were free. The doctors were unable to help me with my ataxia, and in fact, many of the Air Force nurses, who had never seen Friedrich’s ataxia referred to me as the teacher with Parkinson’s Disease. Over the years I was hospitalised on a few occasions, and I was happy to avail of the free medical services provided.

I went shopping one evening per week, accompanied by a motor bike taxi driver from my apartment transport pool. In some shops, I would walk behind the large shopping trolley, with the taxi man acting as a counterbalance on the opposite side, using his weight to prevent me zooming off down the aisles as I pushed my trolley about! In other larger supermarkets, a wheelchair was available, but as a general rule, there were no facilities provided for disabled people, unlike in Ireland, where access is required now to public spaces. Access for wheelchairs on the footpaths, or in and out of shops in Bangkok was almost non-existent . This meant that, I was never able to go to the cinema there in recent years, and had to make do with pirate DVDs of the latest movies, which were always freely available!.

In the main, I found the Thai people to be very helpful to me, as in their religion, they can ‘make merit’ by coming to the aid of a disabled person. When I went out, I always carried a walking stick with me, which in the latter stages served no practical purpose, but which I used to show people that I was disabled, rather than drunk. Due to my inability to write, and produce a legible signature, I had serious difficulties withdrawing money from the bank. As a result, I only went to do this once every two months, and the bank officials insisted on taking my fingerprint as my signature changed each time I tried write it. Onlookers among the customers assumed, as they watched this laborious process, that I was either illiterate or criminal. I therefore kept a huge amount of ready cash in my apartment, which I concealed in shoes. The reason for this being that the foot, in Thai culture, is a very inferior and base part of the body, and no prospective thief would ever think of looking in a shoe, since it would be considered a major offence to keep an image of the Thai King in such a shameful place.

During the past ten years, I visited foreign female prisoners in jail in Bangkok, and I wrote to 20 of them regularly, sending the odd gift of magazines, make-up, etc. The visiting area of the jail is upstairs, which was another challenge for me. In former times I used to illegally exchange uncensored notes with prisoners, but that became impossible later when the visiting area was put under surveillance by CCTV. On most weekends I met up with foreign friends and treated them to a buffet lunch. Afterwards I dictated letters to the prisoners, since my own handwriting was unreadable, due to my shaky scrawl Without the invaluable assistance of these friends, I would not have been able to keep in contact with the prisoners, some of whom are serving sentences of up to thirty years, far away from any family or friends. This helps to keep my life in focus, as despite my many daily physical challenges, I at least have my freedom. Many of my prisoner friends have become deeply religious, and this helps them to preserve their sanity, despite their oppressive and overcrowded living conditions. Some of my Air Force students from the Directorate of Transportation were able to provide me with an official car for my prison visits. I would have to surreptitiously escape from work before one of my bosses started asking awkward questions as to where I was heading. I am still corresponding with twelve of my prisoner friends since I returned to Dublin.

The supportive role of both my students and colleagues was very necessary in prolonging my teaching stay in Thailand, as I could have been dismissed on medical grounds almost ten years ago. Fortunately, I was teaching both Thai Air Force doctors and nurses. In order to get my yearly work permit, I had to produce a medical certificate giving me a clean bill of health. As I was an effective teacher, and I believe my students appreciated this fact, they provided a favourable cert. to the Ministry of Labour, and I was able to continue teaching. Sadly, that came to an end last September, when my contract was not renewed, and I have had to return to Dublin, to make a new life for myself.

All my medical benefits here eventually came through, after numerous days of trekking from one office and health centre to another. The personnel with whom I came in contact in the much maligned HSE were all very polite and co-operative, but patience is a very necessary virtue when negotiating the bureaucratic jungle…Now all paperwork has been successfully lodged in triplicate all over the country, and I am in receipt of my funds and health and travel benefits.

I miss the life in Bangkok, as I was over a quarter of a century there, but the culture shock of returning to Ireland has been somewhat lessened by having the encouragement and support of a close family and many sincere and loyal friends around me. I hope to find some teaching here, and to do a course in voice activated computers so that I can release my long suffering relatives and friends from hours of dictating e mails and articles like this!

My advice to fellow Ataxia sufferers is not to allow mind games to take control. Physically, try and push your limits, and never give up on trying to raise the bar a little higher. Challenge yourself , exercise whatever limbs are still functioning, and don’t resort to an electric wheelchair until it is necessary. Try to avoid obesity, keep yourself mentally alert, reach out, reading, sending e mails, interacting with other people as much as possible. Don’t dwell on the negative impacts of the illness, and console yourself with the fact that there are many people throughout the world who are far worse off than you. By all means have a drink or two, but never drink to excess. I remember drowning my sorrows in an Irish Pub in Bangkok, at one stage. The more beer I consumed, the sorrier I felt for myself. And the aftermath! Bottom of the barrel! I’m glad to say, it was only a once off experience, which I never resorted to again.

When I attended FASI’s Christmas Dinner in the Stillorgan Park hotel last December, I experienced a great sense of hope and determination, and joy. Despite the physical disabilities apparent all around me, there was nevertheless a strong feeling of optimism in the air, which was truly inspirational. I hope this short recollection will inspire readers never to give up. Keep on fighting, no matter how great the odds stacked against you seem to be, and use your condition positively to lift up others. I remember a devout Catholic in Bangkok explaining to me how I much I inspired her, and that I should feel honoured to be part of the crown of thorns which Jesus wore on the cross. I was somewhat taken aback by this description. Although I always knew I had a prickly side to my personality, I had never quite had it put in this context! But there you are – even the thorny side of your character can have its merits!