Captain Swing
September 18th, 2006, 05:25
In July I spent five days at BF's home in a village in Khon Kaen province, my fourth visit there. These are a few random anecdotes, with no punchline or "moral." If you find them boring, please feel free to stop reading.
The "talk of the town" is the new 8-million baht home that a farang has recently built for his boyfriend. I saw it and "mansion" is not too big a word: 8 million baht buys a lot of house in the sticks. The fence around it alone is reputed to cost 800,000. I asked BF what the villagers thought. Apparently they approved: the boyfriend is considered a prime example of "local boy makes good." I asked what the authorities, the "city fathers" thought. BF did not understand, so I finally said "What does the Headman think?" Reply: "Oh, the headman? Him have farang boyfriend too."
I asked about various family members I had met or heard of on previous visits. "What about X (the father of BF's nephews) ? Is he still a monk?" "Yes, him monk, but him bad monk." "What do you mean, 'bad monk' " "Him put on wig and go out to restaurants..."
We were visited by a neighbor, a severely disabled man with withered legs and serious mental problems. I had seen him on previous visits and been impressed by how easily he maneuvered himself on a homemade conveyance, a flat board the size of a tabletop with two bicycle wheels, one on each side. By moving back and forth and turning the wheels with his hands, he could get around, even climbing the short steep slope from the road into BF's yard. This time he had a commercial three wheeled wheelchair with a hand crank, no doubt much more comfortable and easy to operate. I mentioned this to BF. Reply: "Yes. Taksin buy for him."
BF and a friend and a cousin, all thirtyish, are sitting under the house (a floored area where much of the family's living is done, protected from rain by the bulk of the house overhead) drinking beer and talking. I'm nearby, but not part of the group. BF asks if I'll buy some Thai whiskey. OK. Cousin goes down the street and comes back with a bottle or two. I join them. They caution me about the effects of the whiskey (I've had it before) and expect me to get instantly drunk. We drink the whiskey. We ( I ) buy a couple more bottles. We drink a little of the Johnny Walker Black I've brought BF as a gift. Friend begins to annoy me by constantly asking me "You OK?" Maybe it's just the liquor talking, but I get the feeling he's mocking me, implying that fat farang (faggot?) can't drink like strong Thai man. I resolve to drink him under the table, and do. One of my few talents is the ability to hold my liquor. BF later tells me that the friend could tell I was angry at him, because he "talk too much." I guess there was no malice involved. Friend was also amazed that I could drink so much and not get drunk. I think I gained face, maybe for BF too. I neglected to point out to them that while they'd gone through five or six bottles of beer I'd been across the room drinking Pepsi.
One night, maybe that same night, BF and I stay up outside talking long after everyone else has gone to bed, a real heart-to-heart, which we only have once or twice per visit. He tells me his ultimate dream is to move from Pattaya back to his home and build a shop at his house, catering to that end of the village, which has no shops. He's sure it would be a success. My first thought, which I tell him, is to worry that if his shop were to be successful his neighbor across the street would open one, cutting his business in half. BF is a little disgusted at my caution and says "Do you know Microsoft?" I have trouble understanding him but finally do. "Microsoft, yes?" "What's the man's name?" "Bill Gates?" I have no idea where this is going. "Bill Gates, yes. Do you think when Bill Gates started Microsoft he worried 'What if somebody else starts up the same kind of business' ?" When I finally could stop laughing I had to acknowledge that he made a very good point.
My caution was inspired by something that has always bothered me when we drive around his region. We'll come across a stretch of highway where there are twelve or fifteen vendors in a row, all selling kites. A few miles further there are ten or twelve more, all selling sweetened rice cooked in bamboo. A few more miles, more, all selling cooked sweet corn. Next, all selling the same kind of fruit. Wouldn't they all make more money if they varied the products sold in any one stretch of road? Could there be a worse business model? I don't get it. How do you suppose the first guy selling kites felt when the second one appeared.
BF is the "man of the house." He owns it and it's occupied by his elderly father, a monk when I first met him who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's, and by two aunts in their thirties, each of whom has a young son. One aunt, who moved there recently after her husband left her and she had no where else to go, is desperate for me to find her a farang man. She speaks no English so has never asked me directly but every time she talks to BF she pleads with him to ask me to find her someone. She works in a Nike factory ( the other aunt, a widow, looks after the house, the farm, the two kids and the father, who is, I guess, her brother), but one night she insisted on cooking dinner, and making sure I knew she cooked it. Maybe it was just to thank me for being generous to her and especially her son, but I think really she was just trying to pad her resume'. ("...and she cooks, too!!)
I there at the time of the World Cup final. I couldn't have cared less, but BF and one aunt were eager to watch. They talked about it for days. The TV was in the room where I slept so I watched from my bed, under my mosquito net, while BF and Aunt lay on the floor. (He would join me later.) I couldn't stay awake, so dozed on and off. I would rouse up and watch for a few minutes, then fall back asleep. I woke up at one point and realized it was the very end of the game, so watched more intently. BF and Aunt, of course, were sound asleep on the floor. The next morning they had to ask me who won. The other aunt was skeptical of my answer, because she'd glanced in at one point and seen all of us sleeping soundly, the TV blaring.
The village is probably typical, though I have nothing to compare it to. It may be more prosperous than some. There are no restaurants or bars, as far as I can tell, and no stores except mom-and-pop shops in people's houses. Almost anything that one needs to buy, however, can be found. Food-- cooked, uncooked, packaged--, beverages, hardware? No problem. Tank of cooking gas runs out--take it a few blocks down the road and replace it. Want to rent a video--send one of the kids up the street on his bike. I was constantly amazed.
The "talk of the town" is the new 8-million baht home that a farang has recently built for his boyfriend. I saw it and "mansion" is not too big a word: 8 million baht buys a lot of house in the sticks. The fence around it alone is reputed to cost 800,000. I asked BF what the villagers thought. Apparently they approved: the boyfriend is considered a prime example of "local boy makes good." I asked what the authorities, the "city fathers" thought. BF did not understand, so I finally said "What does the Headman think?" Reply: "Oh, the headman? Him have farang boyfriend too."
I asked about various family members I had met or heard of on previous visits. "What about X (the father of BF's nephews) ? Is he still a monk?" "Yes, him monk, but him bad monk." "What do you mean, 'bad monk' " "Him put on wig and go out to restaurants..."
We were visited by a neighbor, a severely disabled man with withered legs and serious mental problems. I had seen him on previous visits and been impressed by how easily he maneuvered himself on a homemade conveyance, a flat board the size of a tabletop with two bicycle wheels, one on each side. By moving back and forth and turning the wheels with his hands, he could get around, even climbing the short steep slope from the road into BF's yard. This time he had a commercial three wheeled wheelchair with a hand crank, no doubt much more comfortable and easy to operate. I mentioned this to BF. Reply: "Yes. Taksin buy for him."
BF and a friend and a cousin, all thirtyish, are sitting under the house (a floored area where much of the family's living is done, protected from rain by the bulk of the house overhead) drinking beer and talking. I'm nearby, but not part of the group. BF asks if I'll buy some Thai whiskey. OK. Cousin goes down the street and comes back with a bottle or two. I join them. They caution me about the effects of the whiskey (I've had it before) and expect me to get instantly drunk. We drink the whiskey. We ( I ) buy a couple more bottles. We drink a little of the Johnny Walker Black I've brought BF as a gift. Friend begins to annoy me by constantly asking me "You OK?" Maybe it's just the liquor talking, but I get the feeling he's mocking me, implying that fat farang (faggot?) can't drink like strong Thai man. I resolve to drink him under the table, and do. One of my few talents is the ability to hold my liquor. BF later tells me that the friend could tell I was angry at him, because he "talk too much." I guess there was no malice involved. Friend was also amazed that I could drink so much and not get drunk. I think I gained face, maybe for BF too. I neglected to point out to them that while they'd gone through five or six bottles of beer I'd been across the room drinking Pepsi.
One night, maybe that same night, BF and I stay up outside talking long after everyone else has gone to bed, a real heart-to-heart, which we only have once or twice per visit. He tells me his ultimate dream is to move from Pattaya back to his home and build a shop at his house, catering to that end of the village, which has no shops. He's sure it would be a success. My first thought, which I tell him, is to worry that if his shop were to be successful his neighbor across the street would open one, cutting his business in half. BF is a little disgusted at my caution and says "Do you know Microsoft?" I have trouble understanding him but finally do. "Microsoft, yes?" "What's the man's name?" "Bill Gates?" I have no idea where this is going. "Bill Gates, yes. Do you think when Bill Gates started Microsoft he worried 'What if somebody else starts up the same kind of business' ?" When I finally could stop laughing I had to acknowledge that he made a very good point.
My caution was inspired by something that has always bothered me when we drive around his region. We'll come across a stretch of highway where there are twelve or fifteen vendors in a row, all selling kites. A few miles further there are ten or twelve more, all selling sweetened rice cooked in bamboo. A few more miles, more, all selling cooked sweet corn. Next, all selling the same kind of fruit. Wouldn't they all make more money if they varied the products sold in any one stretch of road? Could there be a worse business model? I don't get it. How do you suppose the first guy selling kites felt when the second one appeared.
BF is the "man of the house." He owns it and it's occupied by his elderly father, a monk when I first met him who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's, and by two aunts in their thirties, each of whom has a young son. One aunt, who moved there recently after her husband left her and she had no where else to go, is desperate for me to find her a farang man. She speaks no English so has never asked me directly but every time she talks to BF she pleads with him to ask me to find her someone. She works in a Nike factory ( the other aunt, a widow, looks after the house, the farm, the two kids and the father, who is, I guess, her brother), but one night she insisted on cooking dinner, and making sure I knew she cooked it. Maybe it was just to thank me for being generous to her and especially her son, but I think really she was just trying to pad her resume'. ("...and she cooks, too!!)
I there at the time of the World Cup final. I couldn't have cared less, but BF and one aunt were eager to watch. They talked about it for days. The TV was in the room where I slept so I watched from my bed, under my mosquito net, while BF and Aunt lay on the floor. (He would join me later.) I couldn't stay awake, so dozed on and off. I would rouse up and watch for a few minutes, then fall back asleep. I woke up at one point and realized it was the very end of the game, so watched more intently. BF and Aunt, of course, were sound asleep on the floor. The next morning they had to ask me who won. The other aunt was skeptical of my answer, because she'd glanced in at one point and seen all of us sleeping soundly, the TV blaring.
The village is probably typical, though I have nothing to compare it to. It may be more prosperous than some. There are no restaurants or bars, as far as I can tell, and no stores except mom-and-pop shops in people's houses. Almost anything that one needs to buy, however, can be found. Food-- cooked, uncooked, packaged--, beverages, hardware? No problem. Tank of cooking gas runs out--take it a few blocks down the road and replace it. Want to rent a video--send one of the kids up the street on his bike. I was constantly amazed.