Ekk, the taxi driver (part 1)

A reader called Pite left this message:

I loved to read your narrative on the everyday life about you in Thailand. however this seems to have vanished. now, your blog is mostly about movies, actors, tv shows ....... seldom to have anything interesting on you and your friends anymore. well, what can i say? may be it is my time to move on.

Here you are.

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Ekk fixes taxis by day, and drives them at night. I met him one night a few months ago, outside a mor lum (country music) nightspot close to my home. I walk in his direction every night to fetch a taxi to go to Mum's shop.

Ekk parks his car there every night, one of several which gather there waiting for the mor lum customers to come out.

Ekk turned 24 this week. I liked him as soon as I saw him, because he is always smiling. Ekk is from Roi Et, a province in Esan. He has an older sister, and twice a year returns home to help his mother plant and harvest rice.

His father died when he was just a few years old. 'Do you still remember him?' I asked him one night, on our way to Mum's shop.

'Yes, of course,' he replied firmly.

For the first month or so, I would just take my chances to see if Ekk was waiting outside the mor lum joint. If he was not there, I would have to go with someone else.

Some drivers were new. Others knew me, and where I wanted go. In fact, some have taken me many times, they told me. Often I cannot remember them myself, unless we have talked.

Eventually, though, I started to miss Ekk. One night about two weeks ago I plucked up my courage and asked him for his cellphone number. We had talked so many times on my way out to Mum's, and I felt we knew each other well enough by now. To my surprise, he gave it to me happily.

Now, when I am ready to go to Mum's, I call Ekk first. Often, he is with a fare, though he is seldom far away. If he is close by, I wait for him outside the mor lum place.

A couple of food cart vendors, a middle-aged woman and another woman in her 30s, also park there every night. One sells fried cicadas and other insects. They know Ekk, because he gets out to talk to them. When the older woman sees me, she gives me a knowing smile.

Ekk drives a different car every night - depending on which vehicle he has fixed earlier that day. When he arrives, he toots his horn to let me know it is him, and I climb in.

Ekk reminds me of another taxi driver I met when I first arrived in Bangkok. He used to drive at night and would park his car close to where I lived in those days.

At night I would wander out to see him, to talk to him and his taxi driver friends outside a hotel.

I can't remember that boy's name, but he was one of the first Thai boys I met, and he left an impression on me.

A couple of times, we went to a gay club called Freeman's in Silom, because he liked to watch the gay cabaret at midnight. When I watched him under the dimmed lights of that place, as he sucked on his bottle of beer, I hoped earnestly that he was gay.

He did not seem to have any hang ups about men; when we were together at Freeman's, he would hug and cuddle me, sit on my lap, and even kiss me occasionally. He was excited to be there; it was probably nothing more than that.

I was excited too, though I read too much into his boyish enthusiasm. One day, when he came to see me in his taxi, I planted a kiss on his cheek by way of greeting. He told me he didn't want that, as he was worried what his friends would say.

One day the police stopped the boys parking at their regular spot outside the hotel, so my taxi friend disappeared. I have not seen him since. Often I wonder where he is now. His smile and cheerful, boyish manner filled me with hope, and made me forget my homesickness.

When I am with Ekk, I feel the same way. More than seven years on, I have found another taxi guy, and have embarked on another small adventure.

Once, I was the one who did all the calling to Ekk. Now, if Ekk has not heard from me by midnight, when I usually leave for Mum's, he calls me.

Ekk needs to earn B300 every time he takes out the taxi, which is less than many drivers with rental taxis have to find, but every fare helps.

The other night, he called me at home while I was busy. I called him back about 10 minutes later.

'What were you doing?' he asked. Ekk was with a passenger when he answered my call.

'I was in the shower.' That question surprised me, because it sounded like he was worried that I was with someone else.

That night, I did not go to Mum's, as it was raining. I tried staying in for a change. The boyfriend was home, too, which is a novelty, as usually he is at work.

Last night, when I saw Ekk again, he asked me why I did not go out. 'Did you go anywhere else?' he asked.

Again, more signs that he cares about my whereabouts. Or am I reading too much into it?

now, see part 2