I was told a long time ago that part of the reason Thailand is called “The Land of Smiles” is not because so many people smile so much of the time, but because Thais have over 1,000 different identified smiles, each for a different situation.

After almost a decade living here, I reckon I can clearly identify maybe twenty of them in photos (i.e. without knowing the context in which they were used). Today I learned another one … by using it myself.

To begin the story, I have to relate something that I was told during my first year in Thailand. Although I cannot remember exactly when or why it was told to me, I do remember who said it and where. Something had happened in the workplace of my first business here in Chiang Mai, and I had “gone off on one”. Later when things had calmed down, the manageress I’d hired took me aside and informed me of a piece of cultural tradition particular to this city.

She related that in order to teach people, the culture demanded they are only ever given half of the story or information they need. This it transpires is to make them ask questions about the remainder of the knowledge, and to train them to keep a cool heart (jai yen in Thai) and a cool head, as well as to make them think and question before making decisions.

The theory sounds fine, but the practical application is frequently impossible, and in some circumstances (such as driving) can have fatal consequences. Today’s episode centred around a commercial difference between how a Thai nationalised industry operates, and how a formerly nationalised but now privatised equivalent in a developed country operates. The industry in question being the national telco.

The background to the story is that when I was in the UK, if you rented a telephone line from British Telecom and they supplied equipment with it (telephones or data devices) then they retained ownership and would replace or repair as necessary for the lifetime of the contract of you using that line. Usually such equipment was provided free or if advanced equipment, for a small and nominal monthly fee. Thus it was, that when I had ADSL installed here at home, the Telephone Organisation of Thailand (TOT) provided me with a free 4-port router, delivered and installed by the engineers who installed the upgraded line and ADSL splitter.

Now, several years later, the router has gone to the great dropped connections collection in the sky and needs replaced. I briefed my wife about things and off we trotted to the regional TOT head office carting along one dead router and one very lively toddler.

At TOT, all the counter staff immediately fell in love with No.1 Son, and were totally distracted from listening to what either wife or I had to say. Producing the latest bill (paid) they advised that I was paying too much for my 512K connection (700 Baht per month) and they currently had a new promotion for a 2Mb connection with free 1-port router. I didn’t let on that I was already using a replacement 1-port router (supplied by a friendly TOT engineer) via a 4-port mini-hub for the network, and decided to play the injured customer wanting an apples-for-apples replacement or repair.

Well, let’s just say that the concept went straight over their heads. As did the concept of supplied equipment being maintained for life by the provider as part of the contract. They kept returning to the advice to upgrade for a cheaper cost, which I KNOW is a good idea – I can do the maths, but I also knew the pitfalls of the suggestion (my wife didn’t at that point – she does now).

We live in a rented house, the owner lives in Bangkok (700 kilometres south of here) and only comes to Chiang Mai once a year, to visit her brother who collects the rent from us each month. In order to change the telephone contract, she has to sign the contract papers, but the promotional price expires on 31st January and she’s not back until around Easter. I persevered with the “It’s your router, you have to fix or replace it” routine, accompanied by loud whooshing sounds, as the concept went straight over my wife’s head, and theirs. “Why was this stupid foreigner fighting the idea of improved serviced at a cheaper price?” was written all over their faces.

Knowing this was going nowhere, and fully aware of the logistics nightmare to be faced in getting the landlord to sign a revised contract and return it in time to catch the promotional deadline (especially with Christmas, western New Year, and Chinese New Year, all between now and then) I adopted my best “You’re all clueless, but I’m not going to make a fuss” smile.

The counter staff responded with a classical “You’re a dumbass foreigner who thinks he’s clever but hasn’t got a clue” smile. My wife pitched in with her “Bugger off, before you lose your temper, and let me handle this” smile.

I looked at them all, looked at No.1 Son who had managed to catch the attention of a pair of stunning twenty-somethings, who were trying to extricate themselves from his playfulness and leave the building, and adopted a new smile. I said to wife that I’d leave it to her to sort it out, and got a quizzical frown regarding my new smile – and a Thai with a quizzical frown is an entertainment event in it’s own right, one that usually results in guffaws from westerners.  I held back from this or she’d have lost face in public, and I’d be in the doghouse for the rest of the decade.

I picked up No.1 Son and “played” the role of making him say bye bye (in English) to the two young things, while following them to the door. Around a hundred “Bah ba” noises from junior later, the two young women headed off on their “motocy” while I still had my new smile firmly in place. Wife was still safely in the TOT office, so I gave junior his first father-to-son, heart-to-heart – a one liner.

“Son”, I said, “your mum’s going to have to watch her step, because you and me will make a great team for pulling the birds”. He looked at me and right on cue commanded me to “By by”, which loosely translates as “OK then Dad, let’s go”. (Note the spelling and phonetic difference between “bah ba” / bye bye, and “by by” / let’s go (Thailish at it’s best)). Fourteen months old and he’s already worked out how to play with words and impart different meanings. He’s a joy to an old man’s heart.

And my new smile? It means, “Just you and me son, but don’t ever tell your Mum”.

Wife emerged about ten minutes later. She was fizzing and I thought I was in for it – maybe she’d twigged the flirting junior and I had been up to?  But luckily, nope.

She was fizzing because the TOT staff had finally explained that they only provide equipment with a one-year warranty, and if it goes wrong after that, the subscriber has to buy their own equipment, at retail, to replace it. She’s lived here all her life (three and a half decades) and had never been told that before.

Just goes to show – never buy from someone who smiles too much = old western proverb.