Bring it on, boys!

Cheerleaders in Sathaheep

So my market has gay boys after all. I should have known they were there, but I wonder why they took so long to present themselves. Today, while making the most of my new-found freedom to explore the area (see previous post), I stumbled across a group of 15 young ones rehearsing cheerleading drills.

I have never seen cheerleaders here before. For that matter, I hardly ever see gay boys. Closer to the tourist district, groups of brightly-dressed young gays getting around in squealing, girlie packs are relatively common. In my market, I would be lucky to spot even a single guy who dares to look a little feminine.

I found the cheerleading squad on a little street close to the river at one end of the market. A restaurant looks into the street on one side. On the other is an overbridge which runs parallel to the street and takes people from the market over the river to another part of town.

Nearby, teenagers had taken over a pier, where older folks normally wait for long-tailed boats and ferries. The young ones had stripped off and were jumping off the pier into the water.

The space under the bridge is even busier. Today a visitor dropping by the river's edge could watch young gays performing cheerleading drills, a group playing football, and middle-aged folk practising yoga. The space was also shared by sundry assorted watchers such as myself. One or two oldies were collecting cans for recycling, while others simply sat and talked.

The footballers, mainly students from a nearby secondary school, looked like "real" men: they wore tattoos, and one or two had shaved their heads. In the space next to them, about 20 middle-aged women wearing the King's vivid yellow were practising yoga.

Cheerleaders at Future Park mall.

Their routines did not look like much, and I quickly lost interest: they kept their hands by their sides and flapped their fingers about, as if getting ready to lift a large object or perform some other act of extreme physical exertion. But the big moment never arrived.

The footballers swore a lot and smoked, but moved well on the court, which has its own chainlink fence to keep in the ball. 

They had attracted their own spectators, who had parked their motorbikes nearby. Occasionally they would turn from watching the game under the bridge, to gaze at the cheerleaders on the street.

Lots of talent was on display. Five or six of the cheerleaders were boys, a couple of whom wore their hair in the military crew-cut style. It was hard to tell whether they were gay, but they are probably drawn to more artistic, graceful pursuits than the kids playing football opposite. They looked well disciplined and moved well together.

University cheerleaders

One set of hand actions was vigorous, and looked like a swimmer performing breaststroke in the air. 

In another set of moves, the hands were kept close to the chest, and turned in and out, as if the boys are swishing about flowers or pom poms.

They also rehearsed their chants, to go along with the moves, though nothing of what they said gave any hint of where they will perform. I shall have to ask when I visit them again next week.

The boy closest to me, one of those with a handsome crewcut, had tanned Esan looks. He was wearing a T-shirt and large, soft-cotton, knee-length shorts. 

The billowy legs of his shorts were getting in his way as he performed, so he tucked the fabric between his legs. He looked serious about his cheerleading; they all did. As he sweated, he dabbed his face delicately with the palm of his hand.

The instructors were the most obviously gay. One wore a pair of jeans cut off at the knees which was two sizes too big, so they fell down his bottom and exposed his underwear. He wore a tight cotton T-shirt with the collar turned up, and the obligatory shoulder bag slung over the back.

They were joined by a tall kathoey, and a young man who wore his hair in an affro style. Two or three others wore long sideburns and spiked hair. That style really looks better in a gay nightclub under flashing lights, than in a tatty market under the harsh glare of day, but never mind. A boy has to do what a boy has to do.

I have never seen any of these kids before, so I hope they come back. The cheerleaders with their graceful moves and their flamboyant instructors may look like a breed apart, but they attracted no hostile stars. They also lighten the tone.

Most of the real men who live in the market will be exposed to gays eventually. They are all around, and perhaps no place more than in Thailand.

Yet for too long my small corner of the world has been dominated by more mainstream groups: oldies, Chinese traders, and youngsters wearing black, darting about on motorbikes.

Our market community needs more colour, more diversity to challenge its traditional ways. The cheerleading troupe, with their stand-out fashion, hairstyles and girlie looks, is ideally placed to provide it.

Note: See more of the market here, and here. Lion dancers also perform in Talad Phlu occasionally. See them here, and here.