ME AND THE BUFFALO
Yesterday morning my dearest and myself had the good fortune to be in tune at the same time, each having the same denouement firmly in mind, and after all was said and done, another snippet of 'something new' fell innocently into my lap. This is always the best way to learn such things, and as luck would have it I have ~ apparently ~ hooked up with the very guy who seems to be the very best at often tripping over, by accident, the limits of my knowledge (of Thailand and Thais) and how to fix it.
So it came about that The Event that morning was one of the small marvels of earthshaking eroticism that come about every so often to each other's great delight and we were left panting and holding and sweating etc etc etc and headed into the shower after the appropriate amount of snuggle and saying-stupid-things time.
It so happened that during those delicious twenty minutes or so I (apparently ... as I cannot quite remember the detail of its birth) had occasion to smack his ass on one cheek quite heartily and with great gusto. At the time this act of violence occurred it did not deter at all the events pleasurably unfolding, but after, during the shower, he looked at me deep in the eye and asked: " ... what you do? You think I am a buffalo ... ?"
This question took me aback (not least of all because of still being rather in a dreamy romantic mood) and I looked at him dumbly and asked for a repeat of the odd question. He then described how, as a young boy, he had many times ridden the buffalo down to the rice fields, and how he had one very favourite beast who he got along with perfectly (some certain buffaloes being right ornery) and whom he remembered often having to slap it quite sharply on the ass to get it to move.
So we moved, a bit wet, back to the bed for some gentle pillow talk ~ which is one of the happy check-off marks of this particular relationship ~ and it went somewhat like this (and here is the point where you can all learn a small tidbit of information that you may or may not have known):
ME: "What's the Thai word for buffalo honey?"
HIM: "Kwai"
ME: "Oh, you mean like Bridge on the River Kwai? So The River Kwai is 'Buffalo River?"
HIM: "No, the Kwai River is not pronounce 'kwai", but pronouce like 'kway'"
ME: "So 99% of farangs have been pronouncing the river name wrong for all these years?"
HIM: "Yep". So you know 'Saphan Kwai' in Bangkok?"
ME: "So that neighbourhood is 'Buffalo Bridge'?"
HIM: "Yep"
So, (phonetically) it's the River Kway folks, not the River Kwai. Correct pronunciation for that is thanks to a great roll in the, er, hai.
ISAAN DREAMIN'
About a week ago, at about three in the morning, I woke up from a very deep sleep . . . a variety of unconsciousness much more common in this land than my own country. Whether it be the heat of day creating a general fatigue, or acute contentment I cannot say, but my regular pattern here is almost always a full seven or eight hours of dream-filled sleep.
But on this night my waking was acute and dramatic . . . my guy had reached across my body, grabbed my right arm, and had started to pull me violently towards him, which, by pure physics meant I was force to make a full 180 roll over until I was now facing him, whereas right before I had been snoring lightly into the the edge of the mattress about as far away from him as it's possible to get in our bed. Facing him fine ... but he was still asleep! And I most certainly was of the opposite, and rather painful persuasion.
Being awoken by means of such violence certainly needed some explanation, so I tapped him on the shoulder with that intention in mind. He awoke slowly and it was immediately apparent that he had been full asleep during the whole episode. He recounted his 'bad dream' to me ~ for to him, after I had explained what had taken place just previous, it was: He dreamed of when we had recently taken a short trip to the Pala-U Waterfall which is about 60 kilometers west of Hua Hin. We had become a bit tired from ascending up to level 5 and had taken a rest. We had laid down on a large rock right beside the waterfall which was only a foot or two from our bed place ... I next to the falls, he on the 'safe' side. We both fell deeply asleep in the cool, green, breezy shade there and it happened that I had turned over in my sleep and stated to slowly roll toward the edge of the rock and then an inch or two from plunging into the waterfall. It was it this very moment that he had commenced to violently grabbed my arm to drag me away from a watery death.
And it was at this pivotal moment that ~ in the 'real' bed ~ he had saved my life again and dragged my body, by my aching, arthritic(!) arm to the safety of ... the billowy, shushing sheets which the room fan is constantly moving around at night, like the water flowing in a gently moving river.
Thais take great meaning and seriousness from all dreams (which they are lucky enough to remember) and this particular one ~ forget my aching, close to broken, arm ~ apparently is hugely auspicious for our longevity and good luck together.
I'll drink to that. Whatever!Similar Threads:
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Originally Posted by Beach Bunny
