Passing the test

Last night, by a stroke of good luck, I managed to avoid a marathon drinking session with teenagers.

The sober-minded, safety-conscious West frowns upon heavy social drinking, but Thai society still regards it as normal.

Before bed, I like to visit a nearby canal, to watch the water pass by. As I made my way there after midnight, firefighter Gor’s friends spotted me walking by, and called me over.

A group of 10 to 15 young people was gathered in a courtyard outside the little fire station close to my home.

One tallish boy, who I have met before, invited me to drink with them.

Once he had me on the spot, he shouted out for poor Gor, who was not at the table.‘Gor! Gor! Gor!’ he called.

I suspect Gor was sleeping, as he looked rumpled and puffy-eyed when he did emerge.

His friends should have let him sleep – but being excitable young men in their late teens and early 20s, they tend to live life by the minute.

He pulled put some money from his pocket, and thrust it in Gor’s hand. ‘Go and buy a bottle!’ he commanded.

Thai boys like to order each other around. This is particularly common if they have an age advantage. In a society which accords high social status to age, where the older you are, the more respect you get, a gap of even a few months is important. Gor took the money reluctantly, and departed on foot for the nearest 7-11.

As it happens, I had hoped to see Gor last night, to give him money for a hair cut, which he badly needs. However, I did not want to hand over money in front of those kids. Nor did I want to look as if I had passed their table deliberately, so I said I would carry on to the canal, and return to see them in 10 minutes.

The tall one was reluctant. ‘He has just gone off to get the drink!’ he said.

‘Hang on – I’ll be back,’ I assured him.

When I returned, miraculously, the courtyard was empty. I walked past hesitantly, as I did not want to be spotted if someone was lingering in the shrubbery. Nothing.

Walking past the entrance to the station, again I saw not a soul. They had either been called out on some urgent errand– a fire might not be out of the question, except there is a much bigger station nearby which could respond to such a call-out – or they had gone out to buy supplies, for a group drinking session.

I know the drill. I have done this at Mum’s shop many times before.

My Thai drinking partner buys the first bottle, and then when that is finished, I pay for the next. We drink that, and then maybe I order another. The whisky bottles start piling up.

Young ones can carry on drinking for much longer than I can. Sometimes, despite the respect which they should accord to my ‘age advantage’, they will play drinking games, and dare me to toss back a whole glass.

‘I am too old,’ I say.

‘Come on…we have hardly seen you drink yet,’ they tease.

Under the weight of peer pressure, I oblige, and drink my glass empty. Then they hurry to refill it.

Soon, I am drunk. We are all drunk. But the one who wakes up with the sorest head, and guiltiest conscience (What did I say? Did I make a fool out of myself? How much money did I spend?) - is me.

The new-model me, the one who goes to bed about 1am, is sick of heavy-duty Thai drinking habits, even if they are executed in the name of friendship and brotherly love.

Last night, I saw evidence that Gor can keep distance from his friends, and take himself off to sleep when his body demands.

Good on him. I do not want to look after a lost cause. I want to instill good habits into my young friend, as his parents appear to have given up.

I am pleased the boys were not there when I returned, as I did not want to join their no-holds barred drinking session. I doubt I could have lasted the distance.

But if ever I did get into trouble, after drinking too much? I would have to look after myself. We have to take responsibility, if not for our friends, then certainly for ourselves.

And that’s one lesson in life which I would like to impart to young Gor.

Ultimately, we are alone. There’s no one else, even if friends – boyfriends – would have us believe that they are there for us. Who would want to stick by someone who consistently lets himself down?

In one sense, having no one to account to but one’s own self should be easy. No need to worry about friends any more! They can drink as much as they like.

But shall we join them? Ah, there’s the test.

Really, looking after one’s self is the biggest test of all.