Farang cheek rewarded in noise battle

Construction men have been swarming over an empty building opposite for days.

We close the sliding door on the veranda, fasten the windows, but still the sound of men drilling gets in.

Work started in earnest on Wednesday, when a worker started attacking the concrete floor with a pneumatic drill.

By the next morning, I was going spare. I decided it was time to visit the owner.

The building is in a closed street, which makes access difficult for outsiders.

However, I had visited a building in this street before, so knew how to get in.

Two months ago, workers started drilling work at another building, even closer to our condo than the one where work started the other day.

The rear end of this residence backs onto my condo. It fact, they share a gate.

People regularly enter the building from my side, so I did the same.

I found the gate leading to the back of the building, and let myself in.

On my way through to the street I passed two security guards, and dogs. No one said a word.

I walked down the street until I found the entrance of the place where work started the other day, and let myself in.

Inside, I saw two sweaty workmen, standing amid concrete rubble. On a flight of stairs, I spotted a tallish man with Chinese features.

He must be the owner, I thought. I beckoned him outside. ‘I want to talk to you,’ I said bluntly.

The man, aged in his 50s, followed me obediently out on to the street.

Even from that distance we could barely hear each other for the sound of workmen drilling.

‘The noise is unbearable. It starts at 8.45, and carries on all day. When will it end?’ I asked.

Mr Thai-Chinese apologised. ‘This building is owned by my son, but I am here supervising. It will be over by Tuesday next week at the latest. Please apologise to your neighbours,’ he said.

He asked where I lived, and added: ‘I live in the condo just behind you. This is a residential area. Did you not think of informing the neighbours that you were about to undertake noisy demolition work, or how long it might last?’

He apologised again. No, he hadn’t thought of that.

‘I was worried about the noise. The workers wanted to start drilling each day as early as 8am, but I put them off to 8.45,’ he said.

The owner looked nervous, but did not appear to resent my anger.

He was polite and courteous. In fact, he was so pleasant in that endearing, charming way that Thais have, that I softened immediately.

‘Never mind. I will tell the neighbours what is going on. Thank you,’ I told him.

Back at home, I told boyfriend Maiyuu about my encounter with the owner.

Predictably, he was unhappy that I spoke my mind.

Maiyuu prefers to put up the noise. Complaining would be un-Thai.

‘Now he will resent us,’ he said.

I am used to such responses from Maiyuu, who does not like to assert himself.

‘You have your duty, and I have mine. Don’t interfere,’ I told him.

The next morning, I was rewarded for my brash, outspoken farang behaviour when the workers delayed work.

They put off a start to their drilling labours until the more considerate hour of 9am.

By 8.45am, I was sitting on my veranda overlooking their place. Workers were pacing about on the roof, looking at their watches.

They were waiting to start drilling. The owner had evidently told them to cool their heels until his antsy farang neighbour had risen for the day.