Leafy on one side, slummy on the other

Leafy-side entrance to the condo

Boyfriend Maiyuu is excited. When I came home from work last night, the first thing he asked was whether I had been to see the new condo.

'I have indeed.'

'What was it like?' he asked, as he handed me a slice of cake, made with dried cantaloupe.

'It is wonderful. We have to move at all costs,' I said.

Maiyuu smiled.

A few days ago, I suggested we might like to move to a condo closer to my work.

At first Maiyuu was cool on the idea, but then as I myself started to have second thoughts, Maiyuu decided it might be a good thing after all, and started to show more interest.

Work friend farang C suggested I take a look at the condo where he lives, which is less than 10 minutes from the office. Yesterday he showed me around.

The condo is in an industrial area, surrounded by slums. It is even poorer than the village which I call home, on the Thon Buri side of the Chao Phraya river, which I thought was poor enough.

I can't see his condo from the main road. It is nestled among dense tree growth, and million-baht houses on leafy sections surrounded by high walls.

One belongs to a European ambassador. He appears to raise a small army of street dogs, who followed us suspiciously as we walked in off the main road.

A middle-aged European-looking man appeared with a bag of meaty bones, to feed the dogs. Maybe it was him.

We passed another few large homes, where the windows were boarded up. One looked occupied, but I saw no people. Four expensive cars were parked side-by-side in an open-front garage.

It is nothing unusual in Bangkok to find examples great wealth, sitting cheek by jowl with grinding poverty. Nearby, people live in tin shacks.

Farang C's condo, a handful of buildings standing like a row of erect soldiers against the skyline, has a large rooftop pool.

I admired a tree with fragrant flowers, as we surveyed an expansive 180-degree view of Bangkok.

The condo pool

Why is this beautiful pool space not more popular? We were the only ones up there, on a muggy, sweaty day.

Few of the Thais in this place, which comprises eight buildings of 36 units each aligned in a J-shape, bother with the pool, as they are afraid of getting burnt by the sun.

Farang C and I cut through a large vacant section next to the condo, where people sat under tin shacks. They were burning refuse in a large bonfire.

Farang C took me to the local 7-11, where gay boys gather on Friday nights. 'They made ooh-ing and aah-ing noises when I was there the other day...they must like farang,' said farang C, who is straight.

Many condos in Bangkok are built hundreds of metres from any shops or eating places. Their occupants visit the supermarket before they get home. I don't want that: a decent condo should be part of its local community, not isolated from it.

On the way to the 7-11, we passed a tiny hairdresser's, and a small fresh-goods market...old men and women sold fish, meat and vegetables from the side of the narrow road. They called out to us.

'You...farang...banana?'

The condo is indeed part of its local community. It took us only five minutes to reach the shops and the main road.

It looked all-Thai. I saw no foreigners around, at least in the slummy section.

The condo, looking back from adjacent slum community

As we returned to the condo, I did find one westerner. He was getting out of his car, and shot me a hostile look.

Farang C's place has two bedrooms, a large kitchen area, and sitting room. The main bedroom is just off to the left of the toilet and shower, and shares the same entrance.

It is modern, so has features like a pull-out pantry drawer, large wardrobes, storage and cupboard space. The condo makes efficient use of its 70sq m, and looks professionally designed.

The rented condo in which Maiyuu and I live, by contrast, is just a box. Admittedly, we asked for a non-furnished place. Some rooms have a wooden partition in the middle, dividing living from sleeping space, and a token built-in wardrobe and dresser. But that's it.

I might have to pay a slightly higher rent for the same floor space I occupy now. But our power bill is twice what farang C pays - and he has three air-conditioning units, compared to our one unit. Our water bill is five times higher.

At the condo office, I spoke to the manager. She asked me to leave my name and number.

'On Monday I will ask someone to call you with the names of any owners here who have places for rent,' she said.

People buy units, then rent them out.

At home, I showed Maiyuu pictures of farang C's unit which I took on my cellphone camera. We also worked out which suburb I had visited to look at the condo. Today I looked up a map of the place on the internet.

'That's a good place to live,' said Maiyuu approvingly.

When we went to bed last night, Maiyuu was so excited he had to ask for a sleeping pill to help him sleep. I must admit: after running hot on the idea initially, then going old, and then finally coming around again, I was feeling excited myself.

PAD protest: Forgetful Kelly

Kelly

I have resisted writing about this Australian woman for ages. Kelly Newton Wordsworth - her name alone is a mouthful - sings folk songs at the People's Alliance for Democracy rally in Bangkok.

For those unfamiliar with the PAD, let me decode some of the above. For "rally," what I really mean is "illegal occupation of Government House".

For "democracy", I should say that in fact, PAD proposes moving away from the hard won, one-man, one vote version of democracy we have now, in favour of a regime where 70% of politicians would be appointed.

Kelly, who hails from West Australia, is a darling of the PAD. Some gullible Thais believe if a farang supports their cause, it helps lend it credibility. We are just mere Thais, they seem to think - but here's a farang, and even she agrees with us!

That's sad, of course. Even sadder is that people like Kelly know that, and exploit it.

I wonder what Kelly would think if a Thai person showed up in her land and started advocating noisily that Australians should scrap democracy in favour of a system where a group of wise men (in Thailand, they would all be men - sorry, Kelly) get to choose who represents voters.

I suspect she would not like it. I don't think any Australian would like it.

Why should Thais want, or deserve anything less? If Kelly can't answer that question, then she would be well advised to steer clear of Thai politics.

Her website calls Kelly an "internationally renown [sic] singer/songwriter, performer and recording artist". Kelly, who has been playing at PAD protest rallies for a year, is perhaps best known for a song she wrote called the King of Siam.

Ever since I saw the face of this man,

The king of Thailand, The king of Siam

I felt in love with his soul loves this land

It's in his eye, it's in his heart, it's in his hand...

Since then she has written two more songs, Rain Man, and her latest effort, For the People at the PAD, in which she says explicitly that the PAD are protesting for democracy.

Well, if that's democracy, Kelly, what do you have at home?

Here, thousands of people hit the streets as recently as the early 1990s in their fight for it. Some were shot in the process. I suspect Australians like Kelly have had it too good for too long, or they might remember what their own struggle was like.

You can read more about Forgetful Kelly in this piece from the Manager newspaper online (Thai only), which is owned by a PAD co-founder, Sondhi Limthongkul. It has run so many stories about her that I have lost count.

At work, we often have the television going. I have watched Kelly - who describes herself as a "humanitarian" - performing on the PAD stage, in broadcasts run by a television channel also owned by Sondhi. Her songs go on, and on...and on.

Thais in the crowd applaud. But the farang at my office grit their teeth.

Give a girl a translator, and there's no stopping her. When Kelly realises that a Thai on the PAD stage is prepared to translate into Thai her toe-licking utterances in English, she won't shut up. In the clip, she performs with her daughter Tara. "This, my daughter Tara," she says.

Where's the "is" in that sentence? Kelly is afraid Thais won't get it, so she leaves it out.

Freedom-fighter Kelly has also written a song to honour Nelson Mandela. I wonder how Nelson would feel about an electoral system stacked with 70% of appointed flunkies?

I doubt he would call it democracy...unless blacks, too, are unworthy of one man, one vote. What do you say, Kelly?

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 closer to my work, in the centre of town.

When I raised it a few days ago, boyfriend Maiyuu was uninterested. However, as I cooled on the idea in the hours and days following, 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 get 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 get the same enjoyment watching them 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 lives. At first, the idea of renting at the same condo appealed. It is the only one I have considered, as it has my friend's recommendation. Several other people from work live at the same condo, so I know it can't be that bad.

However, even farang C says that in that part of town he has trouble finding places where he can relax or observe life passing by.

Once he leaves home, he has to keep walking, such is the pace of life where he lives.

Life goes much faster. He has no time to watch. He does his business, then goes home again.
A reader suggested I should look for some other place 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 and town. That will not happen, as he is too lazy to leave home, unless his work or friends call. He does not do anything outdoors with me.

I would have to do all the work myself, and I am unwilling.

'Tonight while I am at work, I will probably go and see farang C at his condo. I will ask a motorcycle taxi to take me.

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

'Then, if you like it, I will call his 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.