When you first arrive in Thailand with a teaching contract in your hand and a sense of adventure, it’s easy to feel like you've cracked the code on life. You step off the plane, the air hits you like a hot towel, and suddenly you’re eating mango sticky rice for breakfast and calling motorbike taxis like a local. You might even find yourself thinking, "Why didn’t I do this sooner?"

Those first couple of weeks can feel like a dream sequence. Every street has something worth photographing, every interaction is charming, and even the chaos feels like part of the fun. Your students wai politely in the morning, your colleagues bring you strange snacks wrapped in banana leaves, and you half convince yourself that you’ve found a better version of reality. This is the easy part. Culture shock hasn’t kicked in yet.

The start of the breakdown

It’s usually a few months - or sometimes a few years - before the cracks begin to show. At first, it’s subtle. You start wondering why your timetable keeps changing, or why nobody told you there was a school event that cancelled half your classes. You ask a question at a staff meeting and are met with blank stares or polite nods that don’t lead anywhere. One day, your students vanish because there's a dance rehearsal or a monk blessing or someone's grandfather’s dog passed away and the school’s in mourning. Nobody thought to mention it to you, the farang teacher.

And that’s when it starts to get to you. The small misunderstandings, the language gaps, the smiling vagueness when you’re trying to get a straight answer. You might begin to feel like you're on the outside of some inside joke. And honestly, you are. One of the hardest parts of teaching in Thailand isn’t the job itself - it’s the feeling of floating just above the surface of things, never quite anchored. You’re part of the school, technically, but not really included in the same way as Thai teachers. People are friendly, even kind, but there's a gap. Sometimes you feel invisible; other times you feel like a zoo animal everyone’s too polite to stare at directly.

This isn’t unique to Thailand, of course. It’s just part of being a foreigner living in someone else’s world. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you’re the one navigating it day in, day out.

What helped me wasn’t repeating mantras like “go with the flow” or trying to meditate through my irritation. It was accepting that I was never going to fully understand everything - and that maybe I didn’t need to. Thai culture isn’t something you conquer or master. It’s something you learn to sit alongside. The big lesson? You’re not here to change things. You’re here to witness them, participate in them when invited, and sometimes just shrug and carry on when things make absolutely no sense.

Taking a step back

A big part of that acceptance comes from building your own little life outside of the school gates. I found peace in routines - walking the same market route every evening, chatting with the same vendor about how hot it was, buying the same snack even though I never quite figured out what was in it. I stopped trying to “immerse” myself in some idealised version of Thai life and just started noticing things more. Listening instead of trying to decode. Taking a step back instead of pushing in.

And yes, I did learn a bit of Thai - but not from apps or phrasebooks. I learned it from mistakes. From accidentally telling my students I was pregnant instead of tired. From being corrected by a giggling seven-year-old. From being laughed at - gently, usually - and deciding not to take it personally.

The darkest night will pass

I won’t pretend there weren’t moments when I wanted to pack it in. Culture shock isn’t always dramatic, It can be quiet and exhausting. It can make you question why you ever thought this was a good idea. But usually, those feelings pass. You get through the weird days, and then you have one that surprises you. A student finally uses a full sentence correctly. A parent thanks you. A stranger helps you when you least expect it. And just like that, you're reminded that there's more to this than confusion and curry.

Living in Thailand won’t make you some spiritual expat guru. But if you let it, it’ll teach you how to get comfortable with uncertainty. How to laugh at yourself. How to let go of your need for everything to make sense. And how to survive, thrive even, in a place that doesn’t apologise for being different - and never needed your approval anyway.