Moving men develop mind-reading skills

The boyfriend called the moving men this morning. A few moments before, I had asked him what time they were coming.

Maiyuu told me days ago that we would move to our new condo tomorrow, but as far as I could tell he had yet to arrange anything formally.

What does that mean? He had yet to give the moving men a time, or even a day.

'Today, I will call,' he said.

It's only the day before, lad - why rush?

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Maiyuu says he has now booked them for tomorrow. Failing that, he might even move tonight.

We can forget about that ambitious plan - Maiyuu has yet to pack any of the cooking or kitchen gear, which will take at least a few hours.

As I said, why rush?

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I also heard him talking on the phone to the company which supplies our satellite television service, and then to the telephone company, about putting in a new line for our internet service.

Originally, Maiyuu proposed getting them in to do that last week, but then had second thoughts, perhaps because he was not sure how to juggle all these incoming expenses.

The cost of a new phone line, satellite TV dish, and floor will come to B10,000 more than he budgeted.

He told me about the final bill today, after I asked.

Because he put them off, he is now faced with having to hire them over the next couple of days, at the same time as we are trying to move in to the new place.

Farang like to plan things, to avoid logjams just such as these. Thais just wait for disaster to hit.

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My home page is Google news.

A moment ago I opened my web browser. A story by the Wall Street Journal caught my eye:

'Impossibly hard to call a bottom'.

What on earth could they mean?

Feng shui bed distraction

Loyal reader BODYholic asked if ordinary Thais consult a Chinese astrologer's almanac before contemplating big steps such as moving to a new condo.

I am sure they do: even Thai politicians think nothing of consulting fortune tellers before taking decisions which affect the nation.

We have not consulted astrologers before our big move, which should hopefully take place on Sunday.

I am just happy if boyfriend Maiyuu can focus on packing his household belongings on time. We can leave the rest to chance.

He chose Sunday as the day for our move, not because the almanac says it might be an auspicious occasion, but simply because the traffic is lighter that day.

We might get to the new place quicker than if we left it to a weekday, when the roads are busier.

How pleasingly pragmatic! Imagine my surprise then, when Maiyuu calmly announced today that he was paying a visit to the new condo - his first in two days - to allay superstitions about the position of his bed.

When he lies on his bed, his feet are pointing at the door. According to feng shui principles, this is bad luck, so he's visiting the condo to move the bed in his room to a different position.

That's the only job he has to do while at the condo.

It's a 40-minute bus ride to the new place, but he is sufficiently worried about the bad luck which could follow from sleeping in that position that he is prepared to take the trip.

He has asked me to buy more packing boxes while he is away, as we have now run out.

You're welcome, sir. Once we have dealt with the feng shui distraction, maybe we can get back to work!

Moving date fixed

Boyfriend Maiyuu reckons we will move to our new condo by Sunday.

In the market, he has spoken to a man with a truck and crew for hire. They will take our boxes from the condo, pack them on their six-wheel truck, then move them our condo in town.

For the five men, we will pay a fee of B300 each. On top of that, we pay B1500 for the hire of the truck. The total price is B3000.

Can they fit it all on their truck? I hope so.

Last night, Maiyuu packed a few boxes of items which live under the stereo and TV. He has yet to start on his kitchen and cooking ware, which will need another two or three boxes.

I am relieved that we finally have a moving date. Yesterday I spent a couple of hours packing things in my room. That's on top of the two or three hours in put in last week.

Why did I think moving would be a simple job?

It's been nine years since I last moved. The last time I packed up my life was shortly before my journey here.

I had to move my things out of my last home before selling it. Some things, I sold; others, I gave to my partner; still others I stored at my parents' house.

Parents end up storing the relics of their children's lives. We park our belongings with Mum and Dad because we are too pre-occupied at the time to sell them.

We are often at a turning point of their lives - about to move cities, start new jobs, embark on overseas adventures.

My parents must have at least a dozen boxes stored under the house belonging to my brother, sisters and me. They sit there in the damp, years after year.

Some go back a long time. The last time I ventured down there, I found university books; clothes which I had forgotten, books I never want to read again, music (LPs, cassettes) which I loved back then but would not contemplate playing now.

What happens when Mum and Dad want to move? They have a big job.

Once, my father called to ask if he could throw out the school notes and books which I had stacked on their shelves of their previous home.

I was overseas, but said Yes. I would never read them again. What was the point?

Here, in the room around me, I have piled unwanted clothes into three large rubbish bags, and unwanted books into a large box.

If no one wants them, I shall throw them all out after Sunday.

It's time to start collecting again. Who knows how many more years will pass before we move again.

I am sure we will have memories to toss out on that occasion, too.

Godless town

Boyfriend Maiyuu says he has finished tiling the floor of the new condo. Today, he says, we can start packing our household in boxes, ready for the big move.

When I dropped in on him yesterday, half the floor was done, but he had already started on a new project, lining a window in one bedroom with tiles made of plastic film. They are covered in blue designs, a bit like mosaic tiles.

The purpose is purely decorative. I might have to take pictures of the new place once we have settled in, and post them here, so readers get a better idea of what I mean. I have never seen the things before.

When I turned up, Maiyuu was sitting on the floor in his underwear, cutting out the window tiles. He had lit candles in the bathroom and bedrooms, to improve the ambiance.

He might have to put aesthetic considerations to one side while we move. It will get messy for a day, maybe two. But move we must, as time is running out.

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While Maiyuu toiled on the floor, farang C, a work friend who lives next door to our new place, took me out for a beer.

About five minutes' drive from the condo is a gay district. We visited two lousy bars patronised mainly by farang tourists.

As the sun set, I watched several Thai-farang couples pass on the street. The farang were middle-aged, the Thais in their early 20s...nothing unusual there.

One Thai in his early 20s with Thai-Chinese looks walked with his arm around his farang friend's shoulders. The Thai guy was dressed in sports gear...maybe he had just been to the gym.

He did not look self-conscious, or embarrassed. In public, most Thai couples keep their hands to themselves.

Later, we visited a restaurant serving Latin cuisine. The waiter flirted. He asked me where I came from.

I told him the name of the country, and he said he was wearing underwear from the same place.

'Look!' he said, as he pulled up the band of his white underpants to show me the logo, which indeed tells the world where they were made.

'Have you been there?' I asked.

'No, I bought them in Singapore,' he said.

We were the only diners there, so the owner, a young woman in her early 30s, entertained us.

'He wants to get drunk with you guys,' she announced, referring to her waiter, who took me by the hand before we left.

'Please come back tomorrow,' he said.

Another time, perhaps.

I will have to watch myself. I don't want to end up in trouble in my own backyard.

I want to find sleaze-free places close to home.

The bars I can do without...restaurants might be more fun. Or perhaps I should avoid the gay district altogether, and take my custom to straight places instead.

Farang C, who is straight, sent me a text message before bed.

'We live in a godless town,' he said.

'The only god is money,' I replied.

Mr Interior Decorator

Boyfriend Maiyuu is at home, though his stay will be brief. He has spent the last two days at our new condo in town, cleaning and laying one floor with rubber floor tiles.

The floor-tile design looks like light-coloured timber. The dimensions of the tiles exactly match the ceramic tiles in the main room, where he is laying them.

He lays the rubber tiles on top - they are coated with some adhesive substance on the back, so no glue is needed.

He wants a timber look in that room, as the two bedrooms adjoining the main room are laid with real timber floorboards, so we will get the same look throughout.

Today he is also expecting a visit from the hi-speed internet man, I am told.

At home, there is not much more I can do to help along our move. I have packed my belongings in boxes.

I dare not touch Maiyuu's stuff, or any household items in common use, as I am bound to do something wrong (throwing out items which he wants to keep, for example), so I shall have to await his guidance.

So, the furniture still sits here, as do the packing boxes. Barely anything has moved, or changed.

At the new place, Maiyuu has also fitted a new shower curtain, and bought a new head for the shower, so there is progress over there, though it is slow.

I did not realise when we took this new place that the boyfriend would go into interior decorator mode, by insisting on laying a new floor and making other changes to the fixtures...I thought we'd just move in.

But as he is doing most of the work and making the decisions, I can do little but watch and wait.

I have offered to dismantle the built-up furniture in this place, but he has forbidden it. 'How can we sell it if it is in pieces?' he asks.

Maiyuu wants to sell our furniture to a second-hand dealer. He will inspect it here at home.

Maiyuu will call him in to take a look at the furniture and give us a price, though judging by the slow pace of progress at the new place, that could be days away yet.

Valentine's Day apart

What are you doing for Valentine's Day?

As I write this blog post, Maiyuu has gone to our new condo in town for a second day of pre-move cleaning.

'I am in a hurry to move condos,' he announced this morning, as he checked his clothes in the mirror.

He spent just 20 minutes fussing over his appearance today, which is less indulgent than yesterday's half-hour effort, so he really must be serious.

When we met the owner of our new place the other day, the condo looked clean. However, it takes a gay eye, I suspect, to really know whether a place is up to scratch or not.

According to Maiyuu, who spent a full day cleaning the place yesterday, the place was full of long strands of black hair (yuck!).

Small progress report? He has spoken to the True telephone company about putting in high-speed internet, which I need for my work.

We will have to put in a new telephone line, as the old number is disconnected.

The last occupant was a foreigner (with a liking for Thai women with long black hair, presumably), who worked in design.

The technician will arrive next week. Maiyuu has also spoken to the satellite TV people, who will install a new dish about the same time.

After inspecting the place, Maiyuu decided he would like to lay a new floor in what will be my bedroom.

He has also decided to keep more of our furniture than he had planned, as it is in better condition than the couches, tables, and chairs which the owner has provided.

That is the problem with renting furnished places: the fittings are invariably old and used. We did not want a furnished place, as we have everything we need already.

However, most places for rent in town are furnished. The owners appear to expect that tenants will be newcomers to the city, arriving with nothing, not long-term residents such as us, moving to town from the sticks with their own household goods.

In the end, we had to opt for a furnished place, as there are more of them on the market.

We have asked the owner to store some of her stuff. We will move some of ours to her place, and try to sell the rest.

I probably won't see Maiyuu for the rest of today, so our Valentine's Day won't amount to anything much.

Last night, when I saw him after work, he was exhausted. 'Do you want anything?' he asked in a tiny voice.

'No...just you,' I said.

Condo cleaning duty

Maiyuu is on cleaning duty at the new condo.

Without prompting from me, he took himself off to our new inner-city condo this morning to do a thorough clean before the furniture arrives.

We have yet to move anything from our present place in Thon Buri to the condo, as we signed the rental contract only a couple of days ago, and these things take a while to organise.

Yesterday, Maiyuu sold several bags of his clothes to a second-hand dealer, who paid B1000 for the lot.

Maiyuu's clothes, which he packed in large black rubbish bags, have sat in the living room for months waiting for a buyer. Not before time, of course, but finally, we are rid of those awful bulky bags.

In other pre-move jobs, yesterday he photocopied pages from my passport, which I forgot to give the owner when I met her this week.

He also cut me a copy of the keys to the place, and stored a few more household belongings in packing boxes.

About midnight last night, he visited a friend in this condo who owns a truck, to see if it would be big enough to move our furniture. No luck. He will try somewhere else instead.

While at the new condo today, he will ask about installing hi-speed internet, which I need for my work, and satellite television, which he needs in his capacity as Good Housewife Who Deserves Time Out.

Before he left this morning, he spent half an hour adjusting his clothes in front of the mirror, making sure he looked right.

Maiyuu wore a pair of close-fitting pants and a T-shirt with collar and large stripes. Of course he looked great.

'You might wreck those clothes if you are cleaning,' I warned him.

'I have packed a pair of rough clothes. I will change into them when I get there,' he said.

He took with him a large shoulder bag, which also included cleaning gear.

'Do I look ugly?'he asked.

'You look wonderful,' I told him.

'It's an illusion. I might look good now, but I look different before a shower,' he said pragmatically.

'But we go for the whole package. I love you because of who you are, not just how you look,' I reminded him.

I also urged him to eat.

'I will take a meal on the main drag close to the condo, so I can survey the local territory,' he said.

So organised...well done.

Pop-out bicycle for two

In the first flush of excitement over our plan to move to an inner-city condo, Maiyuu has set his heart on buying a fold-up bicycle.

After meeting the condo owner to sign the rental contract yesterday, Maiyuu and I walked out towards the main road in search of a taxi. 'It is a long hike,' he complained.

A few hours later, he had thought of a solution. 'I shall buy a fold-up bike,' he said.

'When we need groceries or ingredients for baking, I will ride to the local store.'

'Can you ride a bike?' I asked, surprised. I haven't seen Maiyuu perform physical exercise in years.

'Of course. I have seen one advertised on television. But it is not made for people your size....100kg, 130kg,' he said.

'I am not that big, and I have ridden bikes in my time you know,' I said.

'...I could even ride down the road to meet you some time,' he said.

I am looking forward to seeing whether this cycling dream comes true.

Maiyuu, who also took a taxi to Silom yesterday, bought several shirts for me, and a long, slender pair of yellow fashion shoes for himself.

They are cheap copies of some expensive brand, and look like sneakers, but have frilly edging just below the toes.

'They are sweet and fem. Are they your new cycling shoes?' I asked.

He smiled, but said nothing.

Sign on the dotted line

Maiyuu and I met the owner of the condo today to sign a rental contract. We can take occupancy immediately, though Maiyuu expects it will take us until the end of the month to get everything moved.

He has asked the owner to take back her microwave, small oven, TV and two mattresses, as we will use our own. She will return in a couple of days to retrieve those items and at the same time pick up a copy of my passport, which I forgot to take along with me today.

The owner turned up in a smart car, with her own driver, who accompanied us to the unit, and acted as a witness in signing the contract. Maiyuu acted as the witness on my behalf.

The owner was probably in her early 40s, though looked younger. She has two children studying in Australia, whom she will join on a visit soon. She was lovely, and I would like the chance to know her better.

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Maiyuu is interested in supplying bakery to a shop close to our new place. 'A sister of a friend has opened her own shop nearby. I might sell her bakery,' he said today.

Maiyuu told the owner the same thing while we were inspecting the condo, which makes me hopeful that he will indeed find an outlet for his baking and cooking talents.

He has evidently chosen not to supply my friend Wirut's eatery close to Mum's shop in Thon Buri.

Once we move to the new condo, Wirut's place will be too far away to supply with bakery products.

However, I would like to continue visiting the place, as I enjoy Wirut's company, and am now getting to know his family and girlfriend's family as well.

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The moo krata restaurant on the banks of the river

At Wirut's place last night, I received two special visitors - bloggers Bangkok Bitch and Kawadjan.

It was good to meet two prominent members of the Bangkok gay blogging establishment.

I have met BB at Wirut's place one time previously. It was my first time for meeting his Filipino friend Kawadjan.

After drinking for an hour at Wirut's shop that night, we moved to a small eating place on the banks of the Chao Phraya River, next to a well-known moo krata restaurant.

Mum's shop was empty of customers, as usual. I feel sorry for her - Mum is obviously hurt that I have stopped drinking at her place after so many years of regular custom - but I stand by my right as a customer to go wherever I like.

BB and Kawadjan are intelligent, observant, and fun. They have packed a lot into their stay here: today they might visit Siam Square, tomorrow they could be on a cold mountain top sharing an uncomfortable tent.

I am enjoying hearing their stories about life in Bangkok and their impressions of Thais.

As I prepare to cross the river back to the centre of town, which Maiyuu and I left almost nine years ago to live in the wilds of Thon Buri, I feel we are about to enter a new chapter of our lives.

I am about to return to a part of Bangkok where I have not lived since I myself was a relative newcomer to the kingdom.

It's almost as if I have a new set of eyes, like a first-time visitor to Bangkok. Who knows, BB, Kawadjan and I might get to enjoy some gay adventures on the city side of the river, too.

Old man in the wardrobe

We have started packing our place into boxes, ahead of the big move into a condo close to town.

I have not yet signed the contract allowing us to take occupancy, but that day will come soon enough.

In the meantime, I have bought 16 large packing boxes from a hardware store in the market. I have taken all the books off the shelves, and sorted them into piles of 'to keep', 'to sell', and 'to throw out'.

Maiyuu has found a trader who buys furniture and clothes. He will invite him to our place to take a look at our stuff.

He hopes to sell as much as possible, and throw out as little as he can, which makes the packing process slow.

I would like to to throw out as much as possible beforehand, but Maiyuu has been going through my 'throw out' pile looking for items to add to his 'to sell' pile, for the sake of a few more baht which the trader might pay him.

'Don't throw this out...you can sell it,' he said yesterday, as he picked up a used notebook.

'You can't sell it - it's full, there are no blank pages,' I said, surprised he would want to sell such rubbish.

'Thais will buy it for scrap paper,' he insisted.

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Another persistent complaint of Maiyuu's is that he buys me clothes, but I forget about them.

They sit in the wardrobe until they begin shrinking (or my waistline begins expanding) until the day when I can no longer wear them.

'You like wearing the same clothes over and over, to make people feel sorry for you, as if you have nothing better in your wardrobe, which is not true,' he grumbles.

He is right! I didn't realise the extent to which I had become a creature of habit, like an old man.

I put clothes into the wash, they come back, I iron them, hang them on a clothes horse, and wear them again. Who needs to look for trouble in the wardrobe?

Yesterday I took everything out of the wardrobe. I tried on four pairs of trousers, and four pairs of shorts which I didn't know I owned, or had forgotten.

I still fit in them, which is good news.

I also found another four pairs of trousers which are now too small for me (they shrink in the dark), including two pairs of smart looking work trousers which - ahem - I never wore. Sorry, but I just forgot!

Postscript: A few unkind readers at the thaivisa forum once complained that my writing was mundane. This mundane post is for you!

Thai condo life: Going up-market

Our place in Talad Phlu

Inside a typical room (not ours - but like ours, it has no windows!)

Another shot of one of the units

For the last few days, I have been looking for a place to live.

I revisited the condo where my work friend farang C rents a place. A two-room unit next to his place has become vacant. I saw it, and decided we must have it.

Readers will recall my last search for a condo a few months ago, when I visited the same condo building, close to the tourist district in Bangkok.

In that area I visited half a dozen places in all, but in the end decided against moving.

I live in Talad Phlu, a long way from the centre of town. I decided this historic area, dominated by Thai-Chinese and with a canal running down one side, had too much going for it.

Talad Phlu is known for its songtaew trucks

A main road, on a quiet day

Now, the decision seems baffling. I can't wait to get out of here.

Why the change?

This run-down market on the Thon Buri side of the Chao Phraya River has been our home for the last nine years (see more of it here).

My present condo is at least 10 years old, and offers no amenities - no gym, grocery shop, pool.

For many years, this modest 10-storey condo was the tallest building, and only condo in the area. It is still popular, as it is so close to the local market, where shopping is convenient.

However, in recent months the skyline is looking more crowded, as developers have put up a rash of condos close to the local shopping mall, about five minutes' walk to the south.

Those condos have gone up in anticipation of a skytrain extension which will cross the Chao Phraya River, linking central Bangkok to the Thon Buri side, which has traditionally been less developed.

It will bring Bangkok-dwellers over this side to visit the charms of old-style Bangkok, and take us poor suburban dwellers into town for our daily commute to work.

Lion-dancer kids in Talad Phlu

Eventually, this area may develop into a dull condo town rather than what it is now: a residential-light industrial area, dominated by the local mall.

The market in which I live has been here for more than 100 years, supplied by a railway line, still going, which runs from Mahachai to Wong Wian Yai.

Residents live mainly in shophouses, or tin shacks. The market itself is old and neglected.

It offers no cute restaurants, smart coffee shops or other modern services which shoppers take for granted in the centre of town.

A few years ago, a smart Silom-style coffee shop opened here. It closed within a year, as the mainly Thai-Chinese residents of this market do not patronise such places.

They probably go into town only rarely...local temples might hold out more appeal.

For years, the all-Thai nature of the area, despite its lack of modern shops or services, held out charm, at least for me (the boyfriend might have thought differently).

Now, however, it feels stifling, backward, and dull.

After I visited farang C at his condo the other day, he took me to an eatery he frequents. It is five minutes walk away, and nestled among trees.

Diners sit on a raised part of the eatery, which has a polished wooden floor. Paving stones are set in a small garden next to our table.

In one corner, farang teachers chatted about their working week.

'They only employ gay service staff,' said farang C, who is straight.

The young man who served me did not look particularly gay, but he did have a pleasant smile.

I ordered a Thai meal for B45.

Later, I told Maiyuu about my condo-hunting adventure.

'You can get the same meal in the market for B35, so it's not cheap,' said the boyfriend.

'We are moving to an expensive part of town,' I reminded him.

It is five minutes from the tourist district, where the rental for many two-bedroom condos starts at B20,000 - more than twice what I pay now.

On the other hand, he was impressed to hear that a taxi fare from the new place to my office would set me back just B40.

Other benefits? I get to live in a well-designed, furnished condo, with a pool and gym.

The condo, nestled between slummy Klong Toey on one side and leafy Yannawa on the other, is blissfully quiet - no train rattles below, as it does at our present place. No dogs bark when kids leave the internet shop next to the railway tracks in the early hours of the morning.

The condo is within walking distance to work. Compare that with the 45-minute journey I take now.

More importantly, for someone who has been stuck in the sticks for so long, it is set in a modern, cosmopolitan area.

The condo sits between slums on one side, and multi-million baht mansions on the other. It looks urban, and people-friendly - at least on the leafy side.

On the other side, Thais live in tin shacks on a large piece of adjoining vacant land. They light fires at night to burn rubbish and keep warm.

Around them are still more slums, which lead out to a busy motorway which I must cross to get to work.

Down here is a 7-11 convenience store, a hairdresser's, a shop with slot-operated washing-machines, and a market where women spread out fresh produce on the ground.

In this area I have also spotted several playing courts facing the road, where I will take my daily exercise. Round and round - let's watch the farang jogging!

On which side will I end up feeling more at home - the poor all-Thai side, or the wealthy, urbane one where foreigners and Burmese maids roam?

We will have to wait and see.

Just another temple fair

Youngster at a temple fair

A temple close to us is holding a fund-raising fair. I know they are raising funds, because that's what temples do. Apart from that, I could hear a monk babbling through a loud-speaker about the need to support the temple.

The temple is five minutes' walk from my place, on a side of the market which I seldom visit.

The other day, I bumped into a teenager who lives locally, and who I used to meet with his friends near the canal which runs through the market.

He and his school friends gathered there to smoke, gossip, and drink.

They stopped going a few weeks ago, probably because the police shoo-ed them away.

My friend is 15, goes to the local school, and is gay. 'Are you going to the temple fair?' he asked, when we saw each other on the street.

My friend had just bought himself an ice-cream. He offered me a lick. I said no. I walked with him back to his new hide-out these days - a small, dark, sinister looking email shop, popular with teens.

Last night when I visited the roof of my condo to look at the stars, I noticed a slowly-turning Ferris wheel off to my right where the temple sits, and heard the monk babbling into his loudspeaker. Ah, the temple fair!

It was already 11.30pm, but thought I may as well pay a visit.

Wat Klang, our local temple

First, I went back to the condo. 'Wat Klang temple is having a fair. Would you like to come with me?' I asked.

I already knew what the answer would be.

'No, I am busy making brownies,' said Maiyuu.

I went alone, which is my lot around this place, as the boyfriend seldom does anything with me outside home, as everyone on this blog must know by now.

I last visited a local temple fair two years ago, with a kathoey who used to live around here.

That visit opened my eyes to the potential weirdness of temple fairs.

When I arrived, stallholders who lined the main routes inside the temple were packing up for the night.

They sold snacks, desserts, clothes and knick-knacks which you can find almost anywhere else in Bangkok.

The convenience of a temple fair is that everyone is gathered in the one place. If you pass enough stalls you might find something you like.

Some stalls sold tiny fish in buckets. Stallholders and their children were trying to catch them in cups, before bagging them and taking them home.

Thai fair-goers stared at me. I kept a smile on my face as I walked around the place. I had never been inside this temple, and often wondered what it looked like.

It took me 10 minutes to walk past all the stalls.

At one, a gay youngster in his teens was selling perfume. He wore a white T-shirt, noticed me, and started stretching himself to show of his body. On my way out of the place, I made sure I passed him again. This time, he was chatting on the telephone.

I saw few gays, or if they were gay, they were so firmly locked in their own worlds that outsiders could but watch.

I didn't like the look of anything on offer, so bought nothing. Ten minutes later, I walked home.

A youngster outside the temple carried a whistle in his mouth. He was directing traffic, and looking over visitors' motorcycles. 

His wore his jeans in the loose, baggy style.

On my way in, I had looked at him admiringly. On my way out, I barely gave him a second look, as I had had my fill of strange Thais for one night.

Neurosis creeping in

‘Finished,' said Mum bluntly, waving me away from her shop.

She meant she was not willing to serve me at her shop any more, since I had taken to drinking at a rival place inside her soi.

Farang C and I turned up at her shop after the eatery in the soi closed. She saw us arrive, and sold farang C a newspaper.

But if we wanted to carry on drinking, she said we would have to carry on somewhere else.

We took a table at an eatery next to her place instead.

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Suan Lum Night Bazaar

Earlier, farang C and I met at Suan Lum Night Bazaar, my first visit to that inner-city tourist haven in eight years.

Before my friend arrived, I wandered past a few stalls, and bought the boyfriend a jazzy pair of underpants.

They are stretchy, and have brightly coloured stripes.

'Are you sure you don't want a more conservative design?' the shopkeeper asked.

She was nervous that boyfriend Maiyuu may not like them, as they were more 'out there' than the designs and colours which most Thais choose.

'No - I am sure they will be fine,' I said.

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We took a taxi from there to Mum's shop in Thon Buri.

We took the route which takes us past Central World and the Ploenchit market, via Lang Suan, Petchburi Rd, and so on, until we reached the Victory Monument and we realised we still had another 10 minutes of travel still to go.

This was 8pm, past the so-called peak hour, but the traffic was still painfully slow.

The taxi driver and I talked about what to do if you are caught in a traffic jam but need to pee.

'An empty water bottle?' I suggested. 'I didn't bring one.'

'You could stretch out in the back seat there and no one need know what you are doing,' he joked.

'Or Pampers?' I suggested.

'A rubber tube and a bag on one leg?' he asked.

'And should you tell your friends?...they might be in need too,' I asked, then thought better of it.

'No, you shouldn't tell friends - they might ask to use them too.'

We arrived more than 25min later.

'You have to stay philosophical when stuck in traffic jams,' said farang C wisely.

'That's hard when you need to use the toilet badly,' I said.

-
Maiyuu is back from his two-day getaway - not at a temple, as I first thought, but to Pattaya.

Last week when Maiyuu told me that he wanted time out from our relationship, he said he would go to a temple in the provinces for a couple of days, and warned me not to send anyone looking for him.

I believe he decided some time before he left that he would not visit a temple at all. He stayed at a hotel in Pattaya instead. He told me the name, which I have forgotten. Was it in Boys' Town? No. He says it was close to a beach, where he took several walks, alone.

-

Thais like plotting, subterfuge, conspiracy theories, ghosts. On the night Maiyuu returned, he asked me whether I had been on the tenth floor of the condo, gossiping about him with his friends.

'No...why would I do that?' I asked.

'I have been hiding by the railway lines outside, to watch who was coming and going - and I thought I heard you talking to Duck and the others about me,' he said conspiratorially.

'You mean, you heard us from outside the condo even though I was supposedly talking to them on the tenth floor? ' I asked, confused.

I gave up. I am not sure whether Maiyuu is slowly going mad, or if he is letting moods cloud his judgement.

He told me about his Pattaya adventures. A Russian guest in her early 20s struck up a conversation, and flirted with him at the pool.

-
Maiyuu found a long strand of what is probably woman's hair in our bathroom yesterday, and asked if I had invited anyone to our place why he was away.

No - I knew few women here, which is sad, but true.

I told Farang C about the strange accusations Maiyuu has been making since he returned.

He reckons Maiyuu is feeling guilty about his Pattaya adventures. If he can accuse me of gossiping, or smuggling people into our place, then he feels better about whatever he was doing in Pattaya.

In truth, I think he spent most time in the city of sin alone, as my boyfriend is not much good with people these days.

When people go mad, do they start cutting themselves off from the world? His world is getting smaller, centred mainly on me, and home.

Face slapping: New massage technique for men

Enjoy a good face slap?

A fresh meat trader at the Bang Kapi market in Bangkok offers a face-slapping service for men who like the fresh-faced look.

She says that by applying the right slapping technique, she can make the skin look fresher, more vibrant, and alive.

Beauty-conscious gays and kathoey who want to improve their appearance are among her most loyal supporters, says Plernrasami Ngernthongudompet, 39, who adds she took up face slapping to supplement her daytime income.

Plernrasami is a student of Thailand's pre-eminent face and breast slapper, Kemika na Songhla, who has appeared on television to demonstrate her technique (ตบนมอึ๋มและตบหน้าแอ๊บแบ๊ว).

Kemika slaps women's faces and breasts to make them bigger, though the stories I have read do not say how long the swelling lasts.

She has appeared on television to demonstrate her technique. To see the face-slapping demo, go here (link harvested - it died). For the breast-slapping demo, go here (link harvested - it died). 

In the first video, the programme hosts say they notice a difference immediately. The woman who volunteered to have her face slapped suddenly looked brighter and bigger in the cheeks.

In the second video, Kemika took her volunteer behind a couch. The volunteer took off her top and lay down on the floor out of view of the cameras. Kemika poked her head above the couch so she could carry on chatting with the programme host, as she set about slapping the woman's breasts.

Tdop! Tdop! Tdop!

Breast-slapping, she says, is not something she can show on national television. After the demonstration, her volunteer, was who wearing dark glasses to disguise her identity, submitted her chest to the tape-measure test. Before being slapped, her chest measured 32 inches.

Afterwards, the tape measure had barely budged, but the host agreed that she had developed a pleasing mound.

Kemika, whose massage technique has made headlines internationally, can show students how it's done for B1000.

'If I showed viewers how to do it on television, my income would dry up in a flash,' she told her host.

Women who visit Kemika at home to get their breasts slapped would feel uncomfortable in the presence of men who come in search of the service, she said. For this reason, she has declared her home must remain a male-free zone.

Spotting a market opening, her apprentice Plernrasami says she decided to offer the face-slapping service to men herself. She believes the market for slapping men has the potential to expand as least as much as that for women, as this is the age of metrosexuality, when men care about how they look.

She slaps the face in a way that makes the skin pores rise. She says getting results from men's faces is easier, even though their skin is rougher than women's.

She uses the front, back and side of hand, depending on whether she wants to make skin tauter, and the flesh on the face rise, or diminish.

However, Plernrasami says she has to slap men hard, which can be shocking at first. One session lasts 15 minutes for each side of the face.

Her teacher Kemika, who has been slapping women's breasts for more than 10 years, had complimented her on her slapping technique. 'You have a gift,' she said.

Plernrasami says many years of cutting up meat in the market have given her a sense of timing and strength in her hands which she needs to make this unusual massage technique work.

Source: Excite Thailand.

Postscript: I do not have a contact number for her. Nor do I know how much she charges.

Absent lover

My partner Maiyuu is on temple retreat. Looking after me is hard work, he says.

When I came home last night, the place was in darkness. Normally, it is lit up brightly, and Maiyuu is busy in the kitchen making something, with the TV going in the background.

Last night, nothing. When I called his number, no answer.

At midnight, I went downstairs to pick up an order of food which he had phoned through to a stall nearby.

Even though he is not here, he is still thinking of his awkward, demanding farang boyfriend.

Maiyuu says he will be away until Sunday, meditating at a temple close to Bangkok.

The other night, he said he was worried I would send a private detective to tail him, after I joked about wanting to know where he would stay.

'Yes, I have hired a detective for B500 a day to trace you and report on your whereabouts,' I joked.

'That's bad behaviour. You don't trust me,' he said.

I explained that I was not serious. Thais enjoy conspiracy theories and intrigue, especially if they are related to jealousy. If I hired a PI, it shows I really cared.

'You know me better than that - I am too mean with money to spend B500 a day on something so trivial,' I said.

That was a joke, too. Thankfully, he understood.

He went supermarket shopping at 5am yesterday, then carried on to the mall to buy a few extras, and to Silom, to buy me some clothes. He returned shortly before I left for the office.

I gave him a kiss as I left. Standing at the door for a final goodbye, I asked Maiyuu to smile for me.

He has a stunning smile. I wanted to remember that, to keep me company over the next two days.

Temple sojourn beckons

We are looking forward to pay day tomorrow, as Maiyuu has spent most of our money cooking and baking, mainly for me, but actually for anyone around here who is interested, as my stomach is not big enough to take it all.

Last night I took a bag of cookies, a piece of cake, and a bag of sausage rolls in to work. Free food, anyone?

Maiyuu is getting enthusiastic about supplying the eatery I have found in Thon Buri. After initially poo-pooing the idea, he is now warming to it.

'I would like to make a name selling a limited range of pastry products in small sizes which are well-packed. Women like small, cute things, and I will choose products which can last beyond a day without going stale,' he said.

As I write this, Maiyuu has made roti bread, cut into triangles, and a tiny bowl of massaman curry sauce, both presented to me on a small ceramic serving dish.

Maiyuu doesn't just cook and bake, but takes care to arrange his food well, which makes it more appealing.

I watched him rolling small sausages in thin strips of puff pastry yesterday and wondered where he found the patience.

Moments later, he presented me with a large dish of tiny sausage rolls, and a mayonnaise sauce in a tiny dipping bowl.

However, all this hard work can take it out of a boy.

Maiyuu has announced that he wants to seek solitude in a temple in the provinces for the next two days. 'Looking after you is hard work,' he says. 'I need time out every month to rest.'

When he is happy, as he is now, Maiyuu is super-productive, and rarely rests until the day is out. He visited to a gay-hairdresser friend later yesterday to get his hair cut.

Maiyuu packed an impressive bag of ginger cookies for his friend. He placed them in a plain plastic bag which, with the aid of tape and pair of scissors, he turned into a sachet, or small carry-bag with handles.

We do, however, indulge in an old man's habit in mid-afternoon. Most days now, Maiyuu and I retire for an hour's sleep.

Thais can sleep at any time, but sleeping during the day is a habit I have learned only recently.

I find it hard to sleep well in an empty condo, so I have asked Maiyuu to limit his temple to stay to one day, if possible. Most of those monks are trying to escape from the world anyway, right?

Living in the real world is harder but more fun, so bugger them.

Chinese New Year: Happy fat ang pao

Today is Chinese New Year. On one side of my condo hangs a large advertisement, placed by a condo developer. 'We hope you get a big fat ang pao gift,' it says.

Ang pao is Hokkien Chinese for red envelope.

Chinese people and their descendants give each other cash in red envelopes at Chinese New Year.

Boyfriend Maiyuu's grandmother comes from Thai-Chinese stock. He has no direct Chinese ancestry through his parents, but expects me to give him a red envelope anyway, as he likes getting money.

I bought a pack of red and gold ang pao envelopes from a local hardware store yesterday.

On the face of this year's envelopes is an ox, as 2009 is the Year of the Ox.

I only ever use one of them, as the only person to whom I give a red envelope is the boyfriend.

This morning when we woke he gave me a New Year's blessing for good luck and robust health in the year ahead.

I kissed his head, and presented him with his envelope. He has now gone to Silom to buy food.

Chinese shop in Talad Phlu

In the market where I live, many Thais live in shophouses - mainly two-storey affairs which have space for selling goods downstairs, and living quarters upstairs.

They were paying tribute to their ancestors this morning, as part of Chinese New Year festivities.

Some residents had put out food, as a sacrifice to the gods or their forbears. At one place I passed, the table was groaning with food. They light incense, and pray. Once that's over, some families sit down for a meal to eat it all.

Others burnt paper money in barrels. I passed several of these barrels this morning, with charred notes weeping smoke.

PS: Wiki tells me that the cash amount in the envelope should end with a lucky even digit (so, B500 qualifies). Next year, can I get away with giving him B250? It ends with the same digit, 0, after all.

The bamboo tray man

The khan toke (file pic)

We now eat our meals northern style, around a bamboo tray on the floor.

Maiyuu staggered in the door the other morning with a round bamboo tray, called a khan toke, on which we have eaten all our meals since. He bought it in old Thai market where we live.

'Eating khan toke' (ขันโตก) is a tradition passed down from the Lanna Kingdom in the North - and now we have our own taste of it in our humble abode in Thon Buri.

Food which accompanies rice is placed on the tray. Families gather in a circle around the tray and help themselves.

It is designed to take the dishes we eat with rice, though northerners also use them as general purpose trays.

'Where did you find that?' I asked Maiyuu, as he squuezed in the door.

The khan toke looked large in his hands.

'A man in the market sells them,' he said.

I go into that market at least half a dozen times a day. How come I had never seen them?

Maiyuu also bought a selection of northern food to eat on our khan toke, and made a few more dishes to accompany them.

Instead of sitting at the dining room table as we used to do, we now get down on the floor around our khan toke instead.

Did I mention that we sit in front of the TV? That's probably why Maiyuu bought it, but it is a romantic addition to the household nonetheless.

'Don't spill anything!' Maiyuu said sternly. I have clumsy fingers.

When the meal was over - we ate lobster and a few curry dishes for our first meal, and khao tom pla before bed - I carried the tray back to the table, where it sits when not in use.

'Don't drop it!' Maiyuu warned me again.

In Chiang Mai, visitors can dine in the khan toke style at the Khum Khan Toke restaurant. After dinner, guests watch Thai traditional dance on stage, including the fingernail dance and candle dance.

Some khan toke tables are multi-leveled affairs with legs. Ours is circular and made from humble bamboo, but others are crafted out of wood.

Just don't show me the weight scale

Boyfriend Maiyuu made keow dumplings and sen lek noodles for breakfast.

When I went out to the kitchen to give him a thank-you kiss, he presented a tray of mussels. 'They're for lunch, with cheese,' he said temptingly.

'I'm going away to see my parents in six weeks - how will I lose weight, if you keep making all this good food?' I asked.

'No one forces you to eat it,'he said.

Maiyuu has been experimenting with different cheeses in his cooking. The other day he asked me which farang cheeses taste best.

'Tasty cheddar, blue cheese...but avoid ordinary cheddar, or those awful cheese sticks,' I said.

'I don't want smelly cheese,' said Maiyuu.

Unlike Maiyuu, I do like smelly cheese, so I recommended blue cheese anyway.

Maiyuu went to the supermarket and bought the cheese I put on his list, trusting I would not let him buy old cheese.

He was surprised when he arrived home to find that I had duped him.

Blue cheese smells!

He disliked the pong, but found it tasted better than he thought, and is also a potent ingredient in cooking.

Now, Maiyuu looks for new opportunities daily to grill or melt his cheeses.

The latest is mussels with grilled cheese on top. Last night, he made mini-pizzas with an eggplant, and roti base, again with grilled cheese on top.

I thought the diet could wait. 'Looking fat is better than going without food,' I said.

Maiyuu patted my stomach.

'I thought you'd say that.'

The little wife at home

Maiyuu probably won't bake for the shop I found in Thon Buri. A taxi fare there is B80, and he would have to send any baking he did to the shop by taxi. 'It's hardly worth it,' he says.

The shop would add its own (minimal) mark-up, and reserves the right to send back any food it cannot sell. Maiyuu and the shop's owner Wirut (Wut) have yet to talk, but already Maiyuu is going off the idea.

'Why don't you bring your friend...oops, boyfriend...here one night when you come?' Wut asked nervously last week.

A couple of times, he had asked me about my 'wife' , so I thought I had better set him straight.

Wut says he is an open-minded fellow. However, he still tiptoes around the issue carefully, as he thinks it might be a sensitive matter.

'He rarely leaves home, and hardly ever with me,' I told Wut.

'However, when you have finished making the changes to the shop, I will give you his number, and the two of you can talk,' I suggested.

Wut plans to add a small extension to the shop, to create more selling space. He could offer bakery from Maiyuu, sushi, coffee and packed fruit to customers as they pass on the street.

Maiyuu is still as busy as ever in the kitchen...last night, he made a lemon cream and coconut cake roll, followed by a chocolate cake. 'You have a talent for cooking and baking - I wish other people could see it and appreciate it,' I tell him.

'Never mind - I don't have to show other people. I am happy cooking for you and my friends at home,' he said.