PeterUK
July 2nd, 2006, 12:31
Roy sat in his deckchair on Jomtien beach and watched the snowflakes falling gently into the moody sea. Not what he had expected when booking his tropical holiday, but then nothing was predictable, meteorologically speaking, any more. After a while he began to sense that he was cutting an odd figure sitting there almost alone, a copy of the Bangkok Messenger spread across his knees. Most of the other people on the beach, Chinese and Indians mainly, had departed as soon as it had started to cloud over. The Thais working in his section had cleared away nearly all of the chairs and parasols and looked impatient to finish the job. They were rubbing their hands and hopping from foot to foot in an attempt to fight off the freakish chilly breeze. He gathered the newspaper together, his eyes catching again the front-page headline, тАШKing Shinawatra II Announces Glorious 5-Year Plan To Eradicate PovertyтАЩ, and stuffed it into his bag along with his other bits and pieces. He paid his bill with an apologetic smile and walked slowly away. A Thai boy standing under a palm tree gave him a hopeful look as he passed тАУ not bad-looking but Roy wasnтАЩt interested. The snowflakes, far too few to settle, had stopped now and a weak mid-afternoon sun was breaking through the clouds and already noticeably warming the air.
At the main road a sleek black BMW hooted imperiously, scattering some pedal-driven samlors. Roy had been living for two weeks in a rented apartment in one of JomtienтАЩs pokier condominium blocks, the 91-storey Majestic Towers; it was dwarfed by the 120-storey-plus blocks stretching impressively along the beachfront as far as the eye could see, almost to Bang Saray. As he neared his temporary home he saw the familiar entwined yellow Ns on a red background and wondered whether to pop into his local NiddyтАЩs Nook for a snack, but he had sampled their famous cheeseburgers at branches in Bangkok and Chiang Mai and decided he fancied a change. He entered a humble Thai bar, crowded with people seeking refuge from the inclement weather. Bargirls with arms round morose-looking farangs were shrieking with laughter; on a high shelf in a corner a wide-screen plasma TV was showing scenes of the king in attendance at some Buddhist ceremony or other. Not surprisingly, the latest technology hadnтАЩt reached such bars yet, though Roy had read that wealthier Thais owned HGCs or hologram cubes. He saw a small table at which an elderly farang was sitting alone and asked if he might occupy a vacant chair. The elderly farang nodded.
A waitress approached and Roy thought about ordering a glass of water тАУ oh, how he yearned for a nice refreshing glass of water! тАУ but that would be way too expensive, of course, so he settled for a glass of wine. Idly he studied the plasma screen, now showing President Clinton arriving at this yearтАЩs World Environment Conference which was being held in London. He saw her smile and point at a person in the crowd; the camera panned to show some wag wearing the familiar royal-blue shirt of the all-conquering soccer club and holding a sign which read тАШChelsea Rules OKтАЩ. The President obviously enjoyed the joke. The camera cut to the dapper Thai Prime Minister, nodding and waiing a lot, like a puppet on a string. Smiles, flashbulbs, platitudes тАУ what did it all amount to?
With relief Roy took a sip of his newly-arrived drink and turned his attention to his table companion. Mid-eighties probably, weak-chinned, large-nosed, almost bald, a sad, distant expression on his heavily-lined, intelligent face. Clothes a bit shabby. A long-time expat no doubt. Curiosity got the better of him and he said, тАШExcuse me, do you speak English?тАЩ
The elderly farang turned startled eyes on him and then, like a shy man forcing himself to be civil, said, тАШYes, and IтАЩm from London the same as you, if IтАЩm not mistaken.тАЩ
Roy raised his open-palmed hands and in a jokey Cockney accent said, тАШOkay, guv, itтАЩs a fair cop. Londoner born and bred, thatтАЩs me.тАЩ
The elderly farang looked at him a little warily, then smiled faintly. He seemed to grow self-absorbed again.
тАШEr, are you a resident out here?тАЩ said Roy in what he sensed was a more appropriately serious voice.
The elderly farang cranked up his attention level again. тАШYes, I moved out here in тАЩ05. So IтАЩve lived here, what, for over thirty years now.тАЩ
тАШThatтАЩs a fair old stint. You must have seen some big changes in that time.тАЩ An Indian had sat down at a nearby table and Roy couldnтАЩt help ogling his very attractive young Thai male companion.
The elderly farang took it all in with amusement. тАШYes, well, the gay scene was very different in those days, of course. You know where the huge disco is in South Pattaya, Noyz, Noyz, Noyz? Well, there used to be a lot of gay gogo bars there. You probably donтАЩt know the Paedophilia Research Institute, but there used to be a whole bunch of gay bars there too.тАЩ
тАШHmm, so when did it all change?тАЩ Roy accepted the otherтАЩs assumption that he was gay without demur.
тАШLetтАЩs see now, was it after the first of the new dynastyтАЩs five-year plans or the second? I donтАЩt rightly recall. Anyway, we all knew it was coming, what with all the talk of new moral orders and the like. The girlie bars had to stay, they were indispensable to the Thai economy, but the gay bars were deemed bad for the national image. They had to go.тАЩ
тАШThere was quite an exodus of expats at that time, I believe?тАЩ
тАШOh yes. Burma, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, they all received boosts to their economies.тАЩ
тАШBut you decided to stay?тАЩ
тАШYes, well, IтАЩm a creature of habit. IтАЩd learnt the language, made some friends, put down roots of a kind. I couldnтАЩt face all the upheavals of moving to another country. And of course there were still opportunities for gay people here. Thailand has a long tradition ofтАж that sort of thing. One just has to be more careful when meeting young men, thatтАЩs all. Blackmail has become big business, as you probably know.тАЩ
тАШYes, I havenтАЩt been sexually active at all on this trip. Too dangerous.тАЩ
тАШOh, but I could introduce you to some friends if you wishтАж тАШ
тАШVery kind of you, but no, IтАЩm leaving in a couple of days anyway.тАЩ
A silence descended. On the plasma screen President Clinton was now holding forth at a press conference, watched with puppyish admiration by the British Prime Minister, Sir David Beckham. Nodding in their direction, Roy said, тАШFat lot of good these conferences do.тАЩ
тАШYes,тАЩ said the elderly farang, suddenly more animated. тАШAnd meanwhile the planet grows ever more polluted and crazy. When the long-running Middle East war finally ended in тАЩ26 and Mohammed bin Laden issued that recantation, we all thought the world had become a safer place, didnтАЩt we? There was a gleeful mood. Do you remember that absurd Japanese historian who updated his famous book? What was it? Oh, yes, The End Of History: This Time I Mean It. Those Islamic fundamentalists had so put the wind up the rest of us with their fanaticism and their hatred and their willingness to die without a qualm. We didnтАЩt think anything could be worse than that. But now weтАЩve discovered that we were wrong. We have an enemy all the more formidable for the fact that it should have been our best friend. Nature herself is up in arms against us. There were telltale signs back in the early years of the century, but nothing like we have now. Spain turning into a desert while rising sea levels shrink the Netherlands to half its previous size. Earthquakes and hurricanes almost weekly occurrences. Tropical diseases in Europe. HIV AIDS still spreading everywhere. Water depots guarded by soldiers. Food riots breaking out. Places where the rich quake in their gated compounds while the poor maraud in gangs. And this is still the early stages. Semblances of normal life remain. People go to work, cheer on football teams, take holidays. ItтАЩll get worse, far worse. After IтАЩve gone, thank goodness.тАЩ
Roy coughed to break the ensuing silence. He couldnтАЩt deny the self-evident truth of what the elderly farang had said. He ventured, тАШIt makes you wonder, doesnтАЩt it, just how bad things have to get before we are really prepared to knuckle down and deal with the problems. ItтАЩs human nature not to want to face harsh realities.тАЩ The statement seemed weak even to himself.
The elderly farang looked at him almost with pity. тАШOh, itтАЩs gone way beyond the stage when knuckling down will help. People still wonтАЩt face the most fundamental fact of all, that all these environmental upheavals are merely symptoms of a deeper malaise. For all our scientific advances, a great pall of ignorance hangs over mankind, even in countries that formerly knew better. Through a glass darkly, indeed! How can the patient possibly be cured if the very diagnosis is wrong.тАЩ
тАШWhat do you mean?тАЩ
The elderly farang looked hard at Roy for a few seconds and then his face relaxed into a resigned smile. тАШWhat do I mean? That IтАЩm a doddery old man who should know better than to shoot his mouth off about things beyond his control. ThatтАЩs what I mean. Look, IтАЩve enjoyed talking to you, but I really have to push off now.тАЩ He rose unsteadily to his feet.
Roy had meant to ask him if his years in Thailand had brought him happiness, but the question seemed redundant now. тАШWell, yes, IтАЩve enjoyed talking to you too. A pleasant change from the usual barroom inanities, I must say. But I donтАЩt even know your nameтАжтАЩ
It was too late. The elderly farang was shuffling out of the room, a stooped, self-enclosed, oddly vulnerable figure.
At the main road a sleek black BMW hooted imperiously, scattering some pedal-driven samlors. Roy had been living for two weeks in a rented apartment in one of JomtienтАЩs pokier condominium blocks, the 91-storey Majestic Towers; it was dwarfed by the 120-storey-plus blocks stretching impressively along the beachfront as far as the eye could see, almost to Bang Saray. As he neared his temporary home he saw the familiar entwined yellow Ns on a red background and wondered whether to pop into his local NiddyтАЩs Nook for a snack, but he had sampled their famous cheeseburgers at branches in Bangkok and Chiang Mai and decided he fancied a change. He entered a humble Thai bar, crowded with people seeking refuge from the inclement weather. Bargirls with arms round morose-looking farangs were shrieking with laughter; on a high shelf in a corner a wide-screen plasma TV was showing scenes of the king in attendance at some Buddhist ceremony or other. Not surprisingly, the latest technology hadnтАЩt reached such bars yet, though Roy had read that wealthier Thais owned HGCs or hologram cubes. He saw a small table at which an elderly farang was sitting alone and asked if he might occupy a vacant chair. The elderly farang nodded.
A waitress approached and Roy thought about ordering a glass of water тАУ oh, how he yearned for a nice refreshing glass of water! тАУ but that would be way too expensive, of course, so he settled for a glass of wine. Idly he studied the plasma screen, now showing President Clinton arriving at this yearтАЩs World Environment Conference which was being held in London. He saw her smile and point at a person in the crowd; the camera panned to show some wag wearing the familiar royal-blue shirt of the all-conquering soccer club and holding a sign which read тАШChelsea Rules OKтАЩ. The President obviously enjoyed the joke. The camera cut to the dapper Thai Prime Minister, nodding and waiing a lot, like a puppet on a string. Smiles, flashbulbs, platitudes тАУ what did it all amount to?
With relief Roy took a sip of his newly-arrived drink and turned his attention to his table companion. Mid-eighties probably, weak-chinned, large-nosed, almost bald, a sad, distant expression on his heavily-lined, intelligent face. Clothes a bit shabby. A long-time expat no doubt. Curiosity got the better of him and he said, тАШExcuse me, do you speak English?тАЩ
The elderly farang turned startled eyes on him and then, like a shy man forcing himself to be civil, said, тАШYes, and IтАЩm from London the same as you, if IтАЩm not mistaken.тАЩ
Roy raised his open-palmed hands and in a jokey Cockney accent said, тАШOkay, guv, itтАЩs a fair cop. Londoner born and bred, thatтАЩs me.тАЩ
The elderly farang looked at him a little warily, then smiled faintly. He seemed to grow self-absorbed again.
тАШEr, are you a resident out here?тАЩ said Roy in what he sensed was a more appropriately serious voice.
The elderly farang cranked up his attention level again. тАШYes, I moved out here in тАЩ05. So IтАЩve lived here, what, for over thirty years now.тАЩ
тАШThatтАЩs a fair old stint. You must have seen some big changes in that time.тАЩ An Indian had sat down at a nearby table and Roy couldnтАЩt help ogling his very attractive young Thai male companion.
The elderly farang took it all in with amusement. тАШYes, well, the gay scene was very different in those days, of course. You know where the huge disco is in South Pattaya, Noyz, Noyz, Noyz? Well, there used to be a lot of gay gogo bars there. You probably donтАЩt know the Paedophilia Research Institute, but there used to be a whole bunch of gay bars there too.тАЩ
тАШHmm, so when did it all change?тАЩ Roy accepted the otherтАЩs assumption that he was gay without demur.
тАШLetтАЩs see now, was it after the first of the new dynastyтАЩs five-year plans or the second? I donтАЩt rightly recall. Anyway, we all knew it was coming, what with all the talk of new moral orders and the like. The girlie bars had to stay, they were indispensable to the Thai economy, but the gay bars were deemed bad for the national image. They had to go.тАЩ
тАШThere was quite an exodus of expats at that time, I believe?тАЩ
тАШOh yes. Burma, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, they all received boosts to their economies.тАЩ
тАШBut you decided to stay?тАЩ
тАШYes, well, IтАЩm a creature of habit. IтАЩd learnt the language, made some friends, put down roots of a kind. I couldnтАЩt face all the upheavals of moving to another country. And of course there were still opportunities for gay people here. Thailand has a long tradition ofтАж that sort of thing. One just has to be more careful when meeting young men, thatтАЩs all. Blackmail has become big business, as you probably know.тАЩ
тАШYes, I havenтАЩt been sexually active at all on this trip. Too dangerous.тАЩ
тАШOh, but I could introduce you to some friends if you wishтАж тАШ
тАШVery kind of you, but no, IтАЩm leaving in a couple of days anyway.тАЩ
A silence descended. On the plasma screen President Clinton was now holding forth at a press conference, watched with puppyish admiration by the British Prime Minister, Sir David Beckham. Nodding in their direction, Roy said, тАШFat lot of good these conferences do.тАЩ
тАШYes,тАЩ said the elderly farang, suddenly more animated. тАШAnd meanwhile the planet grows ever more polluted and crazy. When the long-running Middle East war finally ended in тАЩ26 and Mohammed bin Laden issued that recantation, we all thought the world had become a safer place, didnтАЩt we? There was a gleeful mood. Do you remember that absurd Japanese historian who updated his famous book? What was it? Oh, yes, The End Of History: This Time I Mean It. Those Islamic fundamentalists had so put the wind up the rest of us with their fanaticism and their hatred and their willingness to die without a qualm. We didnтАЩt think anything could be worse than that. But now weтАЩve discovered that we were wrong. We have an enemy all the more formidable for the fact that it should have been our best friend. Nature herself is up in arms against us. There were telltale signs back in the early years of the century, but nothing like we have now. Spain turning into a desert while rising sea levels shrink the Netherlands to half its previous size. Earthquakes and hurricanes almost weekly occurrences. Tropical diseases in Europe. HIV AIDS still spreading everywhere. Water depots guarded by soldiers. Food riots breaking out. Places where the rich quake in their gated compounds while the poor maraud in gangs. And this is still the early stages. Semblances of normal life remain. People go to work, cheer on football teams, take holidays. ItтАЩll get worse, far worse. After IтАЩve gone, thank goodness.тАЩ
Roy coughed to break the ensuing silence. He couldnтАЩt deny the self-evident truth of what the elderly farang had said. He ventured, тАШIt makes you wonder, doesnтАЩt it, just how bad things have to get before we are really prepared to knuckle down and deal with the problems. ItтАЩs human nature not to want to face harsh realities.тАЩ The statement seemed weak even to himself.
The elderly farang looked at him almost with pity. тАШOh, itтАЩs gone way beyond the stage when knuckling down will help. People still wonтАЩt face the most fundamental fact of all, that all these environmental upheavals are merely symptoms of a deeper malaise. For all our scientific advances, a great pall of ignorance hangs over mankind, even in countries that formerly knew better. Through a glass darkly, indeed! How can the patient possibly be cured if the very diagnosis is wrong.тАЩ
тАШWhat do you mean?тАЩ
The elderly farang looked hard at Roy for a few seconds and then his face relaxed into a resigned smile. тАШWhat do I mean? That IтАЩm a doddery old man who should know better than to shoot his mouth off about things beyond his control. ThatтАЩs what I mean. Look, IтАЩve enjoyed talking to you, but I really have to push off now.тАЩ He rose unsteadily to his feet.
Roy had meant to ask him if his years in Thailand had brought him happiness, but the question seemed redundant now. тАШWell, yes, IтАЩve enjoyed talking to you too. A pleasant change from the usual barroom inanities, I must say. But I donтАЩt even know your nameтАжтАЩ
It was too late. The elderly farang was shuffling out of the room, a stooped, self-enclosed, oddly vulnerable figure.