Comparing boyfriend notes

A foreigner colleague invited me out for a drink.

Farang S is gay. We rarely see each other at work, and in fact had not spoken in years before his invitation. He asked me out for gay solidarity and bonding.

We are both in long-standing relationships with Thai boyfriends. He hasn't met mine, but I have met his.

'So, how did you meet him ... in a gay bar or disco?' he asked.

Presumptuous!

'Neither,' I said.

Farang S, who fancies he knows most things about Thailand, looked surprised.

Not all Thai boyfriends come from bars, or were raised in the poor Northeast. Not all migrate to Bangkok in search of work, or sell their bodies to make ends meet.

I didn't pick up boyfriend Maiyuu at a nightspot, but met him through a friend. He comes from a seaside province close to Bangkok.

Maiyuu left school early when his parents died, but is clever in other ways, even if he does not shine academically. I am proud of him, and was peeved to be asked that question.

'We met in a lunchtime restaurant a few months after I moved to Bangkok. The eatery was in the hostel where I stayed.

'I told the owner about my life. He suggested Maiyu move in with me to be my friend, as I was living alone and felt homesick.'

If I was unkind, I would have jumped in and asked farang S the same question about the love of his life.

'So, which a-go go bar did you meet your boyfriend in?'

But I didn't, because I am made of better stuff. The real story of people's lives is usually more complicated.

Even relationships which start in a gay bar can develop and prosper. I didn't like the implication, that I met Maiyuu on a tacky sweep of Bangkok gay nightspots, and that the boyfriend, poor and stupid, latched himself on to me because he needed the money.

Do I think too much? Possibly.

That's how many relationships between foreign tourists and Thais start. But to be courteous, I think we should give people the benefit of the doubt.

How many relationships which begin in a gay disco or bar last the distance? Not many. It reflects poorly on the Thai and foreigner alike if we assume that they all have to start there, even if many of them do.

The foreigner's know-it-all veneer conceals a weary cynicism and underlying disappointment with his life in Thailand.

Maybe he was having a bad day with his own boyfriend, which soured his mood. If his Thai boyfriend upset him, then they must all be no good, right?

I felt sorry for farang S. Next time, he'll have to pour out his misery to someone else, because I am not interested.

Jiving with granny

The Chinese grandmother who lives next door woke me up at 7.30am. She took one of her daughter-in-law's new brood into the hallway of the condo. It started to cry.

Both of her daughters-in-law now have children. The Chinese father is rarely around. I am plotting what terrible things I can do to them today to get back at granny for waking me up.

1. In the spirit of the Songkran water-throwing festival, I could tip a bucket of water over the shoes outside their room - except that could keep them in all day, and I don't want that.

2. I could beat on their door, while the children are asleep. That will make them rattier still, and could backfire on me early tomorrow morning.

3. Complain to the office, except they are sick of hearing from me now.

4. Turn up my stereo, and risk annoying my other neighbours - the decent ones, who keep their noise levels down.

As I write this, granny and the child's mother are sitting huddled inside their room. I know, because I took a peek in the open door as I pretended to take the rubbish out. They look as if they know they woke up the angry farang, and are scared.

I stood at the door and glowered at granny, as she stood rocking the baby in the hall.

The other noisy child, who knows I hate them, tucked on granny's pants leg, to let her know I was staring.

Granny, who is tiny and skinny but with a voice as raspy as a chainsaw, wears Chinese peasant pants. Apart from raising children, she appears to have no life.

I have never seen her in the market. The furthest she gets is the condo carpark. What kind of existence is that?

She has no English, and no Thai. I can't communicate with the woman.

The hall, you silly old dear, echoes - you can't take the kid out there. You can do nothing sensible, but move out!

Gordon's bathroom treatment

No, not the BF...BTS Jin

I want to enter my Thai boyfriend in a reality show contest.

Our place needs cleaning, and since he is a fan of reality shows such as Hell's Kitchen, he should grasp the concept quickly.

The host of that show, London chef Gordon Ramsay, uses the F word with great abandon. When he swears, the young cooking charges in his kitchen take notice.

If he doesn't like what they have cooked, he is even prepared to close his restaurant, and send diners away with empty stomachs, rather than serve them food which is below-standard.

I can't swear at my boyfriend, of course, as he would get upset, then refuse to do anything at home. But in a fantasy world, I could call on Gordon to do it.

Today, I cleaned the bathroom floor, then mopped a small balcony attached to one room of our condo.

The outside temperature must have been close to 40 deg.

While I was getting hot and sweaty cleaning, my Thai boyfriend was - what - helping with the ironing? Painting?

No. He was sitting in the other room, looking for details of Madonna's latest album on the internet.

Our bathroom floor is laid with wooden slatted grills. You see their likes in saunas. I lifted each one, cleaned it, then put it on the balcony to dry. Then I scrubbed the floor itself, followed by the walls.

The cleaning momentum stalled when I realised that we had run out of wall cleanser. I went down to the market to buy it, the first of three or four trips into the market which I made on errands today, while the boyfriend sat ensconced in the condo.

When the bathroom was done, I started on the balcony. I gathered up some potted plants which died long ago, and which the boyfriend has promised to remove but never has, and threw them in the rubbish.

Then I scrubbed the tiled floor surface of the balcony with a brush and rag until it was clean.

This cleaning activity took some time, but the boyfriend, unperturbed, carried on looking for Madonna songs.

As I took the pot plants out to the rubbish in the hall, I passed Maiyuu sitting in front of his computer.

'Now that you have done that job, don't complain that I didn't help you,' he said. 'I have offered to do it, but you don't listen.'

He does offer - he just never does it. Sometimes this impatient farang gets tired of waiting.

Later, as I wandered down to the bank on another errand, to withdraw money for our joint living expenses, I had a daydream where two contestants who look astonishingly like Maiyuu and I were taking part in a reality show contest.

The host's name is Gordon. He's a professional chef who takes little nonsense from anyone. The contestants are Mr Farang, and Mr Thai.

Gordon: So, here we are, then. Today, in a new twist to the show, I'm getting my young charges to clean the bathrooms of my restaurant.

Mr Farang, here's your scrubbing brush, plastic bucket, and cleaning solution. Today, you're doing the bathroom with Mr Thai.

Farang: Cheers, Gordon.

Thai: What's a scrubbing brush, plastic bucket, and cleaning solution? How do I use them?

Gordon: What the f**ck do you mean, you don't know how to use them? Do you really expect this farang to do the whole job himself? Get in there and do some work!

(Gordon shoves the Thai contestant inside bathroom. The Thai goes into a sulk.)

Half an hour later, Gordon returns to inspect what they have done.

Gordon: This is the worst example of a f**cking cleaning job I have ever seen! The challenge is over, but the work is only half done. Did anyone show any initiative?

Mr Farang: Well, Mr Thai used the brush to scrub his nails. He didn't have any thinner, so he used the cleaning solution to take off his nail polish instead.

As for the bucket, he used that to sit on while I scrubbed the floor. So, he did show some initiative, yes.

Gordon: What are you, his f**cking cheerleader or something! That's no excuse!

Mr Thai: Don't grumble to me if the bathroom isn't clean. I wasn't ready to do it yet, and Mr Farang was happy to step in and clean it alone. He just failed to finish it on time...

Gordon: So, it's really his fault?

(Mr Thai checks his nails, and says nothing.)

Gordon: Well, that's f**cking brilliant, but what about my bathroom? The guests are arriving in a few minutes. I don't want to have to tell them to f**ck off because my cleaners haven't finished the bathroom yet. Close the place down!

View from a Bangkok condo

Can I help you take a wash?

'Quick - I hear the guy below taking a shower. Go over to the window and look.'

Our Bangkok condo looks down on a bunch of tin-roofed houses. A young man who lives in one of the houses with his family is a favaourite of ours, especially when he takes an outside shower.

We can see him from our condo window. Sometimes I am standing there with the boyfriend, innocently admiring the sunset, when he tells me to step back, as the more serious business of man watching has called him outside.

'You're too close...he'll see,' Maiyuu tells me, and I know he has detected the young man is outside having a shower again.

The young man keeps his shorts on, so as not to offend the neighbours. The houses down there face each other, or are built close together.

He showers in a common area with a tin roof. Young men park their motorcycles there and sometimes party in the same place.

The young man lathers himself with soap, then uses a hand-held plastic water holder to tip water over his body. He scoops up the water from a large black tub.

I haven't seen him around for a while, and thought he had moved out, so was surprised to have Maiyuu tell me earnestly to get up and take a look. 

As for Maiyuu, he stayed where he was in front of the TV. I went to the window as instructed, as the boyfriend was too lazy to get up himself. Below, I saw not a handsome young guy in his 20s, but a man in his 70s.

His body was stooped over. Wearing a sarong, he was standing in the same spot taking a public shower.

My boyfriend's finely attuned hearing picked up the sound of water splashing. I couldn't hear it myself.

'It's just an old man!' I said.

'I know - I was pulling your leg,' he said. 'The young guy has gone.'

Salad days

Another day starts for my Thai partner: he wakes up, and turns on the television.

He might do something more with his day than just watch the tube. Often, he likes to cook. For the last couple of days, he has made salad.

He cuts up ham into strips, and fries it.

Sometimes he makes spring rolls, then chops them up, and adds them to the hydroponic lettuce. He asks me to buy nuts from the 7-11 convenience store, which he sprinkles on top to round it off.

Maiyuu also enjoys making the dressing, using a combination of vinegar and red wine.

I would like to provide more detail, but when I quizzed Maiyuu about what he puts in his salad, for the purpose of writing this blog post, he told me it was a trade secret.

'You'll have to buy my recipe,' he said.

If he gets bored with salad, he can try other things. He has made beef curry a few times this week. And for the last two nights, he experimented making instant chocolate cake.

Both attempts at making the cake have failed, as precise measurements are needed.

Sometimes, at the last minute, he throws in a little extra butter, oil, or whatever, as he likes to improvise.

Some recipes don't like an improvising chef, so the result is not always a success. The other night, the chocolate caught fire in the microwave. The cake came out as hard as a rock.

When he gets tired of cooking, he falls back on those trusty Thai standbys: watching television, and sleep.

Maiyuu does not go out much at night any more. He rarely takes telephone calls from friends. The other afternoon, his friend Duck from downstairs knocked on the door.

Maiyuu took a look through the peephole at who was outside, and decided not to answer.

He has also declared that this year he probably won't join the Songkran water-throwing festivities, as he would rather spend his time at home with me. Normally, he goes out with Duck and his friends.

I don't know know what has turned my boyfriend into such a home-dweller.

He is wearing his hair long at the back. It is so long, it is curling around his neck. I have urged him not to cut his hair, as I like stroking it.

Maiyuu has resisted the urge to cut it, even though it is getting so long it is annoying him.

Maybe that's it: my boyfriend has become a semi-recluse because I have asked him to wear a fem hair cut.