Helping hand (1)

'It won't work.'

A Vietnamese man in his early 20s, Kai, mouthed those words to my young Thai friend, Pao, who was sitting opposite.

He meant: 'I don't think the farang will part with money.'

That was cynical of him, particularly as we only met that night.

Kai had just asked me if I had ever visited Vietnam.

'No. I am going there next year with my family,' I said.

'Why not travel there sooner,' he asked sweetly.

Kai meant: 'Why not let me be your guide? We could pretend to be gay travelling companions.'

I met Kai an hour before, after I sat down for a drink with some young people from the shop where Pao works. It is next to Mum's shop in Thon Buri.

A Vietnamese girl, Nam, works at the shop with Pao. Over the last two nights, I have been getting to know her friends.

A young Vietnamese man who grew up with her in the same village turns up late at night to see her, when the shop is ready to close.

His name is also Nam.

'How do you tell yourselves apart?' I asked the boy.

'I'm Nam Kaeng [ice], and she's Nam Plao [water],'he said.

Nam Kaeng insists that he and the girl are just friends, though they look close.

Nam Kaeng works at another karaoke/eatery place about 10 minutes away. Last night, he brought along a male Vietnamese friend, Kai, from the same restaurant.

They all live together in the same rented room.

Thai employers must like migrant labourers such as the Vietnamese. They can employ them cheaply, and ask them to do work which Thais would refuse.

The Thai owner of the restaurant employing Kai pays him just B2000 a month. He gets tips of up to B300 a day on top of that.

Kai told Pao how little he was earning at the restaurant down the way. Pao nodded sympathetically.

Pao gets paid nothing at all, as he is still in debt to his shop for about B1000.

That bill stems from a spot of legal trouble Pao fell into more than 12 months ago, when he first arrived in Bangkok.

His relatives, who run the restaurant, paid a police fine on his behalf. Now he is working at the restaurant to pay them back.

Kai has pale skin, and a wide, friendly smile.

He stood up and stretched in front of me as he told me about his life in Bangkok since he arrived three years ago.

Kai is single, but has gone out with Thai girls. One relationship ended in heartbreak, he says. Kai showed me scars on the top of his wrist where, in grief, he attacked himself with a burning cigarette.

now, see part 2