Winds of change (1)

‘I’m about the only one still left,’ said khon dancer Jay.

He was sitting at Mum’s shop in Thon Buri with his girlfriend.

Jay was referring to his friends from his khon dance class. They went to school not far from Mum’s shop. Today, they have graduated, and dispersed to the winds.

Some, like Jay, still perform Thai traditional dance on weekends. Others have given up trying to make that avenue of work pay, and now do something else.

Once, most of Jay’s friends lived close to Mum’s shop, as it was just across the river from the school.

But since graduation, they have moved away. Now, Jay is virtually the only khon dancer from his class still in the area.

Another young man from that school still drinks regularly at Mum’s shop. Called Teung, he teaches music in town.

The first night he and I met, Teung gave me a small photograph of himself. One night, I went to Sanam Luang to watch him and three or four others boys perform music for a khon dance troupe.

I met Jay, Teung and a large group of their friends several years ago, when they were still studying.

They would form a big drinking circle at Mum’s shop at the end of class, and wile away the hours until bed.

Often, they would be there until 2 or 3 in the morning, only to have to wake again a few hours later for class.

Most were from Esan, in the country’s poor Northeast, and had known each other since childhood. They started studying khon dance while still at school, which means the rest of their formal education took a back seat from as early their mid-teens, or younger.

Khon dancers do not earn much. Jay works on weekends only, and is paid about B1,000 a day.

The boys, who hire themselves out for functions, formed their own management company.

Occasionally, a Thai embassy or cultural outfit hires them to perform overseas. They go as a group, staying in the same hotel and travelling on the same bus.

In January, I wrote a story here about another student from that group, called Toon.

He had just returned from his mother’s place in Kalasin, Esan, and missed home. He wanted to give up his apartment close to Mum’s shop, and move back to the provinces to live.

‘I don’t want to be a burden on my mother,’ he said. ‘I can’t find work to do in Bangkok, other than performing at weekends,’ he said.

Shortly before that story appeared, Toon, Mum’s younger sister and I went to the city’s airport.

We were seeing off farang J, who visits Bangkok a few times a year from his native Britain, to be with his girlfriend – Mum’s sister, Isra.

That airport adventure was one of the last times I saw Toon. A few weeks later, he moved back to Kalasin to live with his Mum. Today, he works for a car company.

When he graduated in performing arts, he left with the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree. Yet in the provinces, work for khon dancers is just as patchy as it is in Bangkok.

now, see part 2

ครั้งแรกเปิดซิงกับ Camfrog

คนทั่วไปคงรู้จักโปรแกรม camfrog อยู่แล้วหละ ไม่รู้ก็ลองใช้google หาเอา ผมก็ได้ยินมานานมาก ๆๆๆ แล้ว แต่ไม่เคยเล่น

ตอนนั้นมันดังในไทยเพราะว่ามีข่าวเลว ๆ กับโปรแกรมนี้ อาทิเช่น เด็กสาวโดนหลอกไปฟันจากโปรแกรมนี้ ทำให้สังคมเสื่อมโทรมยั่วยุกามมารมณ์

เต้นแก้ผ้าโชว์หน้ากล้อง มีคนหื่นเข้ามาดูไรงี้ แต่ในความคิดผมคือ ผมว่ามันก็แค่โปรแกรมนึงที่คนที่อยู่ในกะลาโลกแคบที่ดันมีอำนาจคงไม่เข้าใจ

เหมือนกับการที่มาต่อต้านหนังโป๊ทั้งที่เป็นเรื่องธรรมชาติไรงี้ สำหรับคนไม่รู้คร่าว ๆ คือ มันเป็นโปรแกรมแชทออนไลน์ผ่านกล้องเวปแคม ซึ่งข้อดีเห็น ๆ 

มันก็คือการสื่อสารออนไลน์ที่ทำให้มีความเพลิดเพลิน แก้เหงา บลา ๆๆๆ และมากกว่านั้นสำหรับคนหูหนวกก็สามารถสื่อสารผ่านโปรแกรมนี้ได้ดีเลย ถูกมะ
 
พอดีช่วงนี้ห่างเหินแฟนเพราะยุ่งเรื่องงานใหม่ ๆ อยู่คนเดียวบ่อยไม่มีไรทำ เลยโหลดโปรแกรมมาดู บวกกับพึ่งได้เวปแคมมา เลยอยากลองใช้กล้อง

MSN ก็ไม่มีใครออนไลน์ งั้นลองโหลดโปรแกรม Camfrog มาละกัน อิอิ

แน่นอนเลย เริ่มต้นแอบงง มันมี chat room list ก็เข้าไปดู สักห้องที่คนเยอะ ๆ อาไรวะ ตกใจ มีแต่คนขี้เหร่เล่น แถมมีผู้หญิงมาเต้นยั่วไปมาหน้ากล้อง

แล้วคนอื่น ๆ ก็ลุ้น ๆๆ ให้ถอด ๆ มีดีเจประจำห้องด้วยคอยพากย์ บรรยาย แถมมีเสียงผู้ชายโหวกเหวกจังวะ

คือโปรแกรมนี้มันจะสามารถคลิกดูกล้องของแต่ละคนได้เลย เพราะงั้นผมก็ไล่ ๆ ดูไป โหมีหญิงหน้าตาดี ๆ ชายหน้าดี หน้าเลวปะปน อืม เกตและ ว่ามันเป็นยังงี้เอง

 
งั้นเข้าห้องเกย์ดีกว่า สนุกกว่าชัวร์มีผู้ชายมาโชว์ อิอิ ลองเข้าไปดู อืม มีดีเจจัดรายการ มีจัดระเบียบด้วยนะ ช่วงกลางวันห้ามชักว่าวหรือเอากันโชว์ มีจำกัดเวลายังกะไปผับเลย ดีเจก็แล้วแต่ห้อง บางห้องดีเจก็สนุกดีเปิดเพลง คุยไปมา ด่ากัน คอยวิจารณ์คนในห้องว่าไอ้นี่ ของใหญ่ ไอ้นั่นหุ่นดี ทักทายทั่วไปก็มี

บางคนเปิดกล้องแต่โชว์หนังโป๊แทน บ้างก็นัดไปเอากันตามธรรมชาติของห้องแชทแนวหื่น
พอดีผมเข้าห้องทั่วไปดี ๆ ไม่เป็น มันไม่สนุก ฮ่า

สรุปโดยรวมก็สนุกดี สามารถแอดชื่อมาอยู่ในลิสต์แลวคุยแบบmsn รวมทั้งถ้าอยากเปิดกล้องดูกันสองคนก็ย่อมได้

แต่เสียดายอยางเดียว ผมคงไม่ทุ่มเทอัพเกรดโปรแกรมเป็นหน้าจอร้อยจอได้ *เพราะมันต้องจ่ายเงิน เลยต้องทนคลิกดูหน้าคนที่ละคลิก อยากดูหลายคนพร้อมกันทำไงเนี่ย หาที่แครกโปรแกรมไม่ได้เลย แอบขี้โกง อิอิ
 
*หมายเหตุ : การเล่นกล้องในแคมฟรอก ผู้ใช้สามารถเลือกดูหน้าคนได้ทีละคน ถ้าอยากดูได้หลายคนพร้อมกัน 100 จอ! ต้องจ่ายเงินอัพเกรดโปรแกรมครับ

Get out of that sun

The boyfriend is on the telephone, angry.

He is calling the internet provider. Our signal is so poor, I can’t get it on my home computer.

That means I can’t surf the net. I can’t blog. I might get restless.

The boyfriend wants to keep me happy, so that I stay out of his hair. Without prompting, he calls ToT, the state-owned body which controls gateways to Thailand’s internet.

We rent a high-speed net service from ToT. Some days, we get a connection. Some days we do not.

‘The bastards just keep me waiting and waiting,’ he grumbled, puffing furiously on his cigarette.

‘There are no officials available to take your call, ka’ Maiyuu says, mimicking the voice recording he gets on the phone. ‘Please wait a moment longer...’

‘Chang yet!’ he says.

That’s a swear word in Thai. It gets a frequent airing in our house, as Maiyuu grapples with officialdom over the phone.

In the end, he gives up. A moment after he hangs up, internet service is restored.

The light on my modem stops flicking, which means we have a steady signal.

‘Thailand is like that,’ says Maiyuu in disgust, before heading out the door.

He was taking a pair of trousers to a clothes mending shop. He wants the shop to let them out, as his waist is getting bigger.

Maiyuu has taken on the role of housewife in our home.

He has waited a long time for this, I suspect – the opportunity to quit work and care for me as a full-time housewife.

His friends have all found boyfriends (husbands) and elevated themselves to housewife status.

Yet here he was, at 30, still trudging out to work. That had to end, so one day he simply stopped going.

Two months of tension and uncertainty followed, as I tried to figure out what was going on. Did he want to work, or not? Was he going back, or not?

Maiyuu spent his days at home, sleeping, eating, and doing little else, as he waited for me to wake up and adjust to the new reality.

Maiyuu longed for a signal from me that it was okay if he stayed at home.

It took me a while to catch on. At first, I thought he was depressed, and was waiting for his spirits to revive, at which point I assumed he would return to work.

No. Maiyuu had tired of the workforce. He could spend his days more productively, looking after our place, and caring for his ageing farang boyfriend.

Eventually I realised that he wanted to be a homebody. I told him it was okay to stay at home, if that is what he wanted.

However, he would have to pull his weight, or I would ask him to go back to work.

He is doing a great job. It is early days, perhaps, but most nights, when I come home from work, I find a house transformed.

The dishes are washed. He has ironed my clothes. He has cooked. Even the air con in my bedroom is on, waiting for my return.

When I walk in, I find Maiyuu, as fresh as a daisy, watching satellite TV, waiting for his husband.

‘You didn’t answer my phone message!’ he said the other night, as I greeted him.

Maiyuu wore a bright yellow T-shirt, and pretty boxer shorts. He looked lovely. That’s what all men like to see after a hard day at work.

‘I am sorry – I was busy,’ I said.

I hung up my hat and coat at the door. They hang next to my wife’s apron.

I jest.

I finally saw Maiyuu’s text message the next morning.

He thanked me for buying him a packet of cigarettes.

‘How are you – okay? Kiss, kiss!’ it said.

The tooth fairy

Today is payday, when the boyfriend likes to get up early to go shopping. He rises at 5am to visit a supermarket, and stock up on household supplies which have steadily depleted over the last two weeks since my salary last came out.

It is always fun to see what he brings back. Today, I get a bottle of body cream, and a handful of toothbrushes. In this hot climate, I use the body cream often, to keep me smelling good.

As for the toothbrushes, I get through them at a furious pace, as I brush my teeth too much.

‘You get holes in your teeth because you brush them too hard,’ says the boyfriend, who rarely brushes his at all.

‘You also visit the dentist when it is not necessary. See – my mouth is full of holes,’ he says, opening it for my inspection.

He exaggerates, but he does have a few holes, because he refuses to visit the dentist to regularly to get work done.

‘One day, you will need to go, and I will be faced with a huge dental bill,’ I said.

I visit a dentist in the market where I live. The dentist, a Thai-Chinese man in his 50s, runs two clinics here, which suggests he is busy.

In this market, some Thais, at least, go to see him regularly.

As the farang in this relationship, it falls to me to be the worrier and planner. Today, I worry about the boyfriend's teeth, and wonder why he won't go to see the dentist.

Dental care kit for the elderly in Talad Phlu

I am waiting for someone to invent a Thai-boy wand, which I can wave at the boyfriend when I want him to do something. Then I can stop fretting.

‘If that ever happens, I will get them all pulled and put in perfect false ones instead,’ he said.

My boyfriend believes this is the solution to his dental problems – yank the lot out and start again.

‘I will have perfect teeth, like an actor, while you will be stuck with your old ones, which still cause you trouble,’ he said.

‘I would still rather keep my real ones,’ I said.

My boyfriend makes a sucking noise with his teeth, which helps alleviate pain in those teeth which have holes. I have urged him to visit the dentist, but he will not go.

He puts up with toothache, because he does not want to waste money. I admire the sacrifice he makes on behalf of our relationship, though I suspect he would avoid the dentist even if he lived alone.

My boyfriend is lucky – has has one of those magnificent smiles for which Thais are well-known.

‘Thais are famous overseas for their bright smiles,’ I tell my young students, when I teach them English.

They look at me passively.

‘But to keep them looking bright, you should visit a dentist.’

Actually, I don’t say the last part. My dentist makes enough money as it is, without me helping his business.

It's because I don't like giving him money unnecessarily that I want my boyfriend to go. Prevention is better than cure, ongoing maintenance better than big repair jobs.

Now, if I can just work out how to do it...

Noisy paradise

It’s 7.30 in the morning, and my familiar sources of noise aggravation have started for the day.

Below, along the railway line, roosters are crowing, or whatever it is that those birds do. The sun is up, but these birds are so stupid, they keep making noise.

The passenger trains have also started. The driver keeps his hand on the horn as the train approaches the station, which lies just beyond my place. That’s intended to warn monks and school children walking along the railway tracks that a train is coming.

The locomotives are old and noisy. According to a report in the papers this month, the nation’s stock of passenger trains is in a poor state – aged, poorly maintained and inclined to break down.

The local station

Occasionally they run out of puff before they reach the station, and come to a stop in the middle of the tracks. The driver revs the engine, trying to get it moving again. The folk who live along the railway line come out to watch.

If it was a car, they would give it a push, Thais being helpful types. But the train, which has three or four carriages, is too big. So they just look at it.

Eventually, the driver gets it going again, and the school children and traders who travel on it breath a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, back in the condo, life is stirring. Across the hallway, the Chinese man with two wives has fled for the day, but his mother and two wives are trying to dress his two young offspring. The baby is compliant, and screams only occasionally. The first-born screams whenever he can, as an attention-getting device.

The boy does not like being dressed, so kicks up a ruckus. The Chinese family knows he does this every morning, as regular as clockwork (or as predictable as those birds cackling), but they leave the door of their place open anyway, so we can all hear.

It opens into the hallway which we share, and which the boy regards as his personal play space. His screams echo down the hallway, and wake up tenants.

Well, they wake me up. I haven’t conducted a poll. But as they are the only young family on the floor of this condo, their presence must have been noticed by other tenants. Thais, however, are less inclined to complain than foreigners, so the Chinese get away with it.

I am reading a dictionary of ‘new’ Thai words, published by the Royal Institute, keepers of the nation’s language. Most of the new loan words which make it into that dictionary are Chinese, or English in origin.

Each word is illustrated with an example in Thai. In one, two Chinese enter a bus, talking obliviously at the top of their voices, annoying the Thai passengers.

Even among Thais, Chinese are known for being noisy. Reading that cheered my spirits.

Postscript: Now they are arguing. The granny is getting stuck into one of Mr China's two wives (he has one child by each). They are going hammer and tongs at each other in Chinese. Of course, their door is open. I have put on the Eagles, turned up loud, to compete.