Becoming a kindergarten teacher in some rural town with a salary that doesn't even reach ten thousand baht how the hell is anyone supposed to survive? I spent over a million baht on my degree just to chase this so-called dream job of being a tiny, insignificant teacher. Talk about idealism with a starving stomach.
Why kindergarten, you ask?
Probably because I'm small barely a hundred sixty centimeters pale like a half-Chinese kid but with big Thai eyes. My face still looks stuck in high school, and now that I've got braces again, good luck figuring out whether I actually graduated or not. There's absolutely zero teacher aura here.
And becoming a teacher wasn't easy either. My parents always pushed accounting. I chose early childhood education out of pure love and ended up arguing with them from day one. They refused to support me financially, so I had to take a student loan, and they even threatened to cut me off completely unless I went back to help with the family business.
Of course, I just had to be cocky and swear I'd pass the teacher exam on my own and never ask them for a single baht. And look at me now living a broke life in the countryside where nothing looks like the pictures I saw online.
There…At first, I thought it was heaven. Then the dirt road leading into the village slapped me awake. The school building looked ready to collapse with every step I took, and the teacher housing was… well, the definition of absolute misery.
Seriously, when were those photos taken?
Last decade?
Or in another lifetime entirely?
But hey, kids are cute everywhere, right? I mean I guess I love them all.
Big bro loves every child~ …who's ?
Well, not me.
So who am I exactly?
I'm a freshly hired contract teacher, just got appointed, name's Looktan Wang Thai-Chinese, twenty-four, born in Yaowarat. A hopeless idealist who genuinely believes the nation can be rebuilt through early childhood education teaching little kids to be decent and happy human beings.
Cue heavenly chorus and dramatic tears.
Of course, refusing to help with the family business and stubbornly insisting on becoming a teacher no matter how much my parents objected… nothing could stop me. The moment I graduated, I picked a school right away.
But since Bangkok is overflowing with teachers, and my appearance apparently inspires zero professional confidence in anyone, I had to pack my bags and drag myself off to some countryside school one that honestly can't get more rural than this…
This is Wat Sarasri Village, deep in the woods and mountains. The road leading in is still that bright red dirt kind. No neon lights, no chill cafés, not even a cute coffee shop. The only soulful entertainment here is the temple broadcasting Buddhist chants every morning and evening. No young people. Only middle-aged to ancient. The school has fewer than ten teachers, all of them seniors.
All I can do is pray the little ones might brighten up my dried-up city-boy soul…
But…
Totally tense Everyone in this school is on edge and fabulously so. Good thing no one here discriminates against a sweet-and-soft guy like me. Still, a kindergarten teacher is expected to look proper: polite, quiet, shy.
Even if in reality I'm sharp-tongued and always ready to bite back when someone tries to take advantage.
These days, you've gotta survive any way you can smile up front, stab from behind, or even strip your way out of trouble if you have to.
Now that is definitely my specialty.
A tiny sky-blue scooter rolled into the school yard, same routine as every morning. My little khaki-uniformed body dragged itself along like one of the preschoolers wobbling into class at dawn. And just as my life force was about to leave my body completely, a shrill, cheerful voice from behind called out.
"Teacher Looktan, why the long face? It's payday! Be happy!"
A heavily made-up senior teacher, smiling like she owned the place, strutted toward me with suspiciously good mood.
"Good morning, Teacher Wanlapa. New teachers only get nine thousand baht—we're supposed to celebrate that?"
"Nine thousand is plenty," she chirped. "Teacher housing is free, rice is free, and you live alone! What could you possibly need? There's nothing to buy out here anyway, ho ho ho."
Easy for her to say she's been here twenty years with a decent salary and even qualified for a house and a car. I'm the one who had to run all the way out here just to start paying off my student loan. This village road is still that bright red dirt kind. The kids are wild, muddy, loud, and rude from toddlers the size of sticky rice balls to who knows what. There goes my dream of caring for adorable pale, chubby-cheeked angels who politely call me "yes" every sentence. Today's payday. I paid off my student loan installment and… now I've got four thousand left.
Amazing. Tragic. Hilarious. Mostly tragic.
Good thing the school provides rice because almost everyone here grows it. At least I won't starve. Alright then time to buy instant noodles and canned fish for emergency survival.
After school, my khaki uniform stood out against my pale Bangkok skin as I walked through the tiny fresh market. People here already knew me well the cute city teacher was something of a local attraction, apparently.
I strolled along the stalls, thinking hard about what cheap meal I should cook today. Then I crouched down beside an old grandma, picking through vegetables like my life depended on which handful was bigger.
"I went to the temple the other day, the monk blessed the holy water I got the number three and four."
"I scratched the sacred tree and got six and nine."
"Last night a ghost told me zero, zero in my dream."
The crowd kept growing, voices rising into a noisy swarm. And everyone was definitely listening, because there was one thing this entire village cared about:
lottery numbers.
Not the national one, of course underground lottery. The illegal, super popular kind around here.
"Teacher, have you played yet? Got any lucky numbers for Grandma?" the vegetable grandma nudged me endlessly.
"I've never played lottery, Grandma."
"You should! Look, that lady over there that's Grandma See, she sells lottery tickets. We're friends! You can buy on credit, and she pays fast when you win. Never cheats! Teacher can buy a few baht or a few thousand if you've got the guts. And if you win, dear, you won't need to crouch here comparing vegetable bundles you could buy the entire market!"
She spat red betel juice and immediately started pitching her friend's business like a pro salesperson (respect). Her offer made my debt-ridden, desperate-for-cash city soul sparkle uncontrollably.
"I just got appointed a few months ago… I barely have any money. And I don't even know how underground lottery works."
"Don't worry, Grandma will talk to Grandma See for you. You don't have to pay first. And listen here's how you play…"
.
.