Preparing

Let’s take a moment to talk about culture shock.


The popular view of culture shock is one of light-hearted misunderstandings—the classic bumbling tourist clad in Hawaiian shirt, bellowing and scoffing a hamburger within the sacred sanctum of a church or temple as the locals suppress their horror long enough to inform him that his boorish behavior is inappropriate.


In reality, culture shock is a much more drawn-out and profoundly affecting process than a few slapstick goofs made upon arrival in a foreign land. The anthropologist Dr. Kalervo Oberg, in his groundbreaking essay “Cultural Shock: Adjustment to New Cultural Environments,” 57 identifies four stages of culture shock, not unlike the classic five stages of grief identified by psychiatrists.


First up is the Honeymoon period. This is the period after first arriving, during which our intrepid traveller is enamored by the superficial differences in their new culture. People travel in tuk-tuks here! They eat on plastic stools by the side of the road! Everyone’s so friendly! Even the negatives seem refreshing and different, or at the very least negligible. So what if you have to use a squat toilet? Isn’t all this traffic in Bangkok wacky?


Oberg states that this honeymoon phase can last anywhere from a few days or weeks to six months, depending on the circumstances of the traveller. However, gradually phase two begins to seep in—the Hostility period. As the traveller’s understanding of his host culture deepens, the superficial differences that had once felt so exciting start to become routine—and as they become routine, they become frustrating. The sight of yet another squat toilet fills the traveller with dread. Bangkok’s terminal traffic becomes an infuriating hindrance. Negotiating with tuk-tuk drivers becomes a frustrating hassle and no longer worth the effort when Uber remains an option.


Worse still, as the traveller sinks deeper into their adapted culture, they begin to come up against the profoundly different mindsets of the locals. Why can’t they do things this way, instead of that way? Why can’t my employees just give me a straight answer when I ask them to do something? Why is everyone here so seemingly comfortable lying?


Paranoia and resentment set in. Struggling to process these differences in mindset, the traveller instead turns their anger on to the locals themselves. They begin to perceive them as conspiratorial, or simple-minded, or cold, or even actively malicious. Maybe the traveller begins to seek sanctuary with fellow expats, where they commiserate with each other over how stupid the locals are. You begin to see the locals not as products of the social, economic and historical conditions that created them, but instead as actively conspiring en masse to make you, personally, unhappy.


Over time, though, as the traveller remains in the country, perhaps they begin to learn more of the language. Perhaps they form deeper and more meaningful relationships with some of the locals. Whilst they may not approve of or agree with what the locals think or do, they begin to accept them for what they are.


The difficulties that had so distressed the traveller earlier become accepted as part and parcel of existing within that culture. They begin to adapt to them. You get in to the habit of always carrying a little packet of tissues about your person, as you know full well that there won’t be any in the bathroom. You adjust your plans to suit the traffic—maybe keeping it local on a Friday night instead of gallivanting from one end of the city to the other, spending hours in gridlock. This is the third phase, the Adjustment period.


Finally, after enough time has passed, adjustment gives way to the fourth phase, Adaption. By now the routine of daily life has ceased to be a series of challenges to be overcome, but has instead become the new normal. The traveller may even begin to enjoy some of the differences in their new culture. They may go so far as to view them as comforting. Suddenly the thought of eating cross-legged on a wicker mat is actually appealing. You may even begin to adapt some of the practices of your new culture into your everyday life, and bring them back to your own home culture. Of course, this is not yet total immersion in the host culture—the traveller may still miss a few social cues here and there. But it’s as close as can be.


Of course, culture shock is not an inevitable process, and it affects people in different ways. A few never leave the Honeymoon phase, never tiring of the cultural differences, but also never striving for a deeper understanding. Many never leave the Hostility phase, as a glance at some of the larger expat forums online will reveal. Instead they become deeply embittered, isolating themselves from the locals and refusing to engage with the culture at all except to sneer at it. Some decide they can’t take any more, and leave. Others, feeling tethered to their host nation by family/friends/inertia/the feeling that there’s nothing left for them in their home country, stay and spiral deeper into depression. Many turn to alcohol or drugs as a coping method. A few even commit suicide.


Most common of all is for long-term expats to veer between phases two and three. At times they can cope with the challenges of their new culture, but sometimes an event or string of events—maybe a rude waitress at a restaurant, maybe a car accident, maybe a particularly conniving taxi driver—will send them over the edge back into hostility and resentment at their host culture. Only a great deal of soul-searching and socializing will allow them to be cured by moving on to the Adaptation phase.


Adapting to a new culture, then, is hard—even perilous—work. Working in a new culture, in which you will have to adapt to a new work culture, deal with new legal institutions and regulations, and cope with a new and foreign bureaucracy, on top of trying to adapt to a new culture, is harder still.


Thankfully, we’re here to help guide you through the process, from starting work to coping with day-to-day life, right up until the inevitable moment you decide to leave. First, let’s take a look at what you need to live and work legally in Thailand in the first place.