The beauty of trains, dogs, chickens

Scenes from Talad Phlu, above and below:

'So - are moving, or not?' the boyfriend asked this morning, as he made himself an omelette.

I was looking in the freezer for ice, to add to my drink.

I drink when I write posts for this blog, because it helps me think. Boyfriend Maiyuu doesn't like me drinking, probably because his parents died of alcoholism-related illnesses.

'We have many things to consider - the cost of living closer to town is likely to be higher,' I said.

I am thinking not just of motorcycle taxis, of course. I mentioned them the other day. What about a trip to the dentist?

My partner was not convinced.

'What does the dentist have to do with it?' he asked.

I forgot. He doesn't do dentists.

We were talking about this ill-conceived plan of mine to move to a condo in the centre of town.

When I raised it a few days ago, boyfriend Maiyuu seemed indifferent. However, as I cooled on the idea in the days following, perversely, his interest perked up.

Now Maiyuu thinks I was never genuine about what he suspects is actually a good idea. Maybe I was just teasing him, or raising his hopes for nothing.

'The condo we live in now has nothing good about it,' he said.

'It was you and your friends who introduced me to this place eight years ago - remember?' I said.

We live in Talad Phlu, an old fresh market on the Thon Buri side of Bangkok.

Actually, this place still does have things going for it. Yes, we have to listen to trains rumbling past on the railway line just below us, about 100 times a day. We endure the sound of kids crying, and hens making hen noises along the railway line. Dogs bark, people fight.

On the plus side, we are within walking distance of a shopping mall, and live in a lively market, where I can buy food at all hours of the day.

I spend more time outdoors than the boyfriend, who is like a hermit. He might surface once a day, to do a little shopping in the market. I go down half a dozen times a day, for walks, to buy groceries, travel to work.

I need only spend 10 minutes looking at Thais going about their business down there and I know it would be hard to leave.

Here, Thais can be themselves. They mingle in the market, go to school, swim in the canal, wait for buses home.

I know people in that market. Here, is an internet shop where I used to teach English. There, is the shop where I buy roses for the boyfriend. And further on is a Chinese-owned shop where I admired a youngster who served honey on toast and warm milk.

Would I see similarly endearing scenes, of Thais go about their business, if I lived amid the hustle and bustle of the tourist district?

A work friend, farang C, told me about the condo where he rents, between Yen Akart (close to Sathorn) on one side and Klong Toey on the other. 

At first, the idea of joining his complex appealed. It is the only one I have considered, as it has farang C's recommendation. Several other people from work live there too (it's close to the office), so I know it can't be that bad.

However, even farang C says he has trouble finding places where he can relax or observe life passing by, as it's a busy part of town.

Once he leaves the condo, he has to keep walking, such is the frantic pace of life.

He has no time to watch the locals. He does his business, he says, and heads home again.

A reader suggested I should look for some other spot to live, in between here and work.

For that, Maiyuu and I would have to make a dedicated inspection of condos along the route between here on the Thon Buri side and town. 

That will not happen, as Maiyuu is too lazy to leave home, unless his work or friends invite him out. He does little outdoors with me.

I would have to do the condo searching myself, and I am unwilling to do it alone.

'Tonight when I head to the office, I will take a detour to see farang C at his condo. I will ask a motorcycle taxi to take me.

'I will take pictures on my cellphone camera of his place, and bring them home to show you.

'Then, if you like it, I will call the condo office on Monday and ask if they have any spare places for rent. Happy?' I asked.

'Up to you...I don't make the decisions,' he replied, rolling over on his bed. It was time for another sleep.

Why would we want to leave all this?

Thanks to this site for the images.

Let's move, shall we?

I have been contemplating moving to a condo closer to work.

It is just five minutes from the central business district in Bangkok, so rents are more expensive. But it is close to the office, and my friend farang C lives there.

I asked Maiyuu excitedly if he would like to move.

'Of course,' he said. 'But we'll need money.'

I worked out how much we would need to help us move. Farang C sent me the number of the condo, so I could ask if they had any spare rooms for rent.

'Here's the number,' I said to Maiyuu.

'What's the rush? We can hardly leave tomorrow. You'll need the money first,' he said.

'It's not about rushing. If you call now, you can ask about the place, and if they have anything for rent. If there are none vacant, then that is the end of it.

'Why waste time organising money and moving men, only to find later that they have nothing for rent?'

The boyfriend was not convinced. In truth, I suggested we move mainly so he would get his own kitchen. He enjoys cooking, but in our present place has little preparation space.

At work last night, I started to have second thoughts. 'The motorcycle taxi men will charge you 40 baht to get to work. They put the price up when they see you are farang,' said farang C.

They don't do that in the sticks where I live, I thought.

The owner might ask for six-month maintenance payments, as they did with farang C, I thought.

The appeal was starting to wane, but I was out of step with boyfriend Maiyuu, who was belatedly starting to warm to the idea...

Scolding nanny

'Hello, Mr Sheffield...'

Maiyuu was practising a nasal drawl which he picked up from watching too many episodes of the Nanny on satellite television.

Mr Sheffield was the retired blue-blood English Broadway producer. The Nanny was his nasal-voiced, Jewish, blue-collar nanny from Queens.

When I hear Mr Sheffield's name mentioned in the house, I know Maiyuu is in a good mood, and that I can expect a delicious meal soon.

I am sorry to make such an association - it sounds mercenary - but is true: One does tend to follow the other.

Last night, moments after getting in from work, Maiyuu presented me with a dish of pasta and beef strips with chili. 'Hello, Mr Sheffield...' he said. He draws out the name Sheffield.

'Hel-lo, Mist-er Shef-fieeeeeld...'

This morning, he made a garlic bread snack.

Maiyuu had sent me down to the market yesterday to buy the bread. I misunderstood what he wanted - I thought he was after a French stick - and brought back something which looked like sliced French bread, but with raisins.

'That's no good for garlic bread,' he sniffed. 'Next time, don't buy anything.'

Later he went down and bought the bread himself. 'The 7-11 was full of it - how could you not find any?' he asked.

Well, if he had put it like that - 'sliced, white bread' - I might have had more luck. His Thai was more vague.

'Hello, Mr Sheffield,' he said as he presented me with his garlic bread snack. The bread was cut into small squares, and sprinkled with sugar.

Should I be Mr Sheffield, or the Nanny? Probably Mr Sheffield, as I cannot get even a simple bread order right.

Kitchen vacancy

Maiyuu is unhappy to see outspoken Prime Minister Samak Sundaravej booted out of his job.

He likes Samak because he can cook, and gives his critics as good as he gets.

The Constitution Court yesterday ruled that Samak's cooking shows violated a ban on outside employment, and ordered him and his cabinet to leave office immediately.

The ruling party, however, says it will nominate him to serve again as prime minister when the House sits on Friday. Samak has accepted the nomination.

The Manager newspaper, owned by a co-leader of the protest group People's Alliance for Democracy, ran pictures of PAD protesters cheering the decision.

They danced, sang, punched the air with their fists. 'What are they - morons?' asked Maiyuu, disgusted.

He was just as unhappy to see journalists hanging around the House yesterday, waiting to see if Samak would be nominated again. 'A pack of vultures,' he sniffed.

Should Samak not want the job after all, we would like him to know that there is a space available in our kitchen for an extra cook. He can samak (the Thai work for 'apply') to work here instead.

Samak can share cooking duties with boyfriend Maiyuu. We live in a fresh market, so he should have no trouble finding ingredients.

One of Samak's shows was called 'Tasting and Grumbling,' so called because Samak has a sharp tongue, and likes to complain.

In that regard, he and Maiyuu should get along well.

Leaving the tourist zone (2, final)

Tinker entertains the men while they are here. When they go back home, they send her money.

Farang C had told me about one of her sponsors, an occasional visitor in his 30s called David.

In a bold moment, I asked her about Mr David.

Tinker looked surprised. No girl wants people outside the 'zone' to know that she sells her body.

She described him, and showed me his picture, which she took on her cellphone. However, she did not tell me how they met.

Good girls don't meet men in bars; still less do they take them to bed for money like Tinker.

'At first I did not like farang. I was scared of them....they have such big bodies,' she said.

'I had never met one before I came to Bangkok, and my brother never introduced me to any foreigners.

'But now I have decided that I like them - sometimes more than Thai men, who are unfaithful towards women,' she said.

'I was a shy girl,' she insisted. 'I did not lose my virginity until late. My father, who is Chinese, was strict about letting young men seeing me.'

Tinker is no longer so bashful, but we didn't go into that.

After a couple of hours, Tinker and farang C left to go back to town.

Tinker wanted to visit her women friends at the bar.

According to farang C, who went with her, Tinker latched herself on to two foreign customers as soon as she arrived. While she chatted away, farang C amused himself playing pool in another part of the bar.

One the men lives here, but the other farang was a tourist. What did tinker see in him? Money, I suppose.

How many foreign sponsors is enough for a woman of the night? I should have asked.