Back into the tourist zone

Farang C lives in a wealthy residential area close to town. 

I made a time to see him, so I could take a look at his place.

I headed down a leafy street, passing condos, apartment complexes, villas, and large private homes hidden behind large walls.

Local landowners had posted signs written in English and Thai on fences and lamp-posts, advertising homes in the area for rent or sale. I took down their names and numbers.

This was an exclusive neighbourhood. I could walk around here all day, I thought, and meet only Burmese labourers and cleaning staff.

The night before, I had asked Maiyuu if he would like to accompany me on my journey into this wealthy part of town.

'No, you go...I am going to get my hair cut,' he said.

As I entered farang C's street, a middle-aged Thai wearing a suit walked out, just as a black Mercedes pulled up by his side.

A uniformed chauffeur was at the wheel. He greeted the man in the suit.

'Hello, sir!'

'Where are you going?' the man barked. He was presumably the vehicle's owner, and the man driving it his hired help.

'I am on an errand, sir,' replied the driver nervously.

The man sniffed, and walked away.

Welcome to life on the moneyed side of town.

-
At farang C's condo, I inspected the one unit which is available for rent.

A woman from the condo office escorted me.

She had the key, though the owner, a Thai woman, had also left her contact number on the door.

The place was freshly painted, and fully furnished. It has two bedrooms, and a bath.

It also has plenty of food preparation space, which is useful for aspiring chef Maiyuu...but unfortunately, no sink.

'How could the owner go to all the trouble of buying this place, and decorating it, but forget to put in a sink?' I asked, exasperated.

The woman from the office could not answer. 'Perhaps the owner does not cook much...she just buys food in,' she suggested.

I thanked her for showing me around.

-
Out of luck on the condo hunting front, farang C took me for a drink at a gay bar close to his home.

'Now, isn't this a fun place? asked farang C. 'Wouldn't you rather live here than in the sticks where you are now?'

When I first arrived in Bangkok, I lived in nearby Sathorn, part of the tourist district.

I had lived there just a few months when I met boyfriend Maiyuu.

Within weeks, he had whisked me away to our present place in the wilds of Thon Buri, on the other side of the Chao Phraya river.

I traded my status as a single man, gay and fancy-free, for married bliss in a part of town where rarely a foreigner or moneyboy ventures.

Now, eight years later, I am contemplating a return to the same tourist zone. How will it go?

-
Heading for home after leaving farang C, I realised I was in unfamiliar territory.

I had asked farang C for directions to the main road, but forgotten them.

Darkness was gathering around as a man from the local motorcycle queue appeared.

'You - where you going?' he asked.

'I want to find the main road,' I said.

'Oh, that's far,' he said, taking my hands in his own, and giving me a smile.

I hopped on the back. The journey took five minutes.

As we rode, I put my arms around his body. With every bump in the road - Bangkok streets have many - my hands moved closer to his crotch.

At the bus stop, I climbed off his bike. We looked into each other's eyes a long time. I asked him if he was single.

'Why you want to know? I am shy,' he said, hiding his face behind a thin poncho.

I gave him my phone number. 'We can go drinking some time,' I said.

'Why not give me your phone instead? I do not have one,' he replied.

I declined. He had no change, so I gave him B80, twice the fare he wanted.

He smiled again, and looked as if he wanted to kiss me - but then realised we were standing in a public place.

'I go back to work now,' he said, as he rode away.

Second thoughts

Does anyone remember the Joni Mitchell song, Big Yellow Taxi?

Don’t it always seem to go
That you don't know what you’ve got
‘Til it's gone
-
'You live in a lively place. You are lucky,' said farang C, who visited me at my condo on the Thon Buri side of town for the first time yesterday, after he showed me his place in the inner city last week.

Boyfriend Maiyuu and I have set our hearts on renting a place at farang C's condo, or perhaps one close by.

After seeing farang C's place, I invited him to visit us at our condo, so he would get an idea about how we lived, out in the sticks as it were. It is the first time I have invited a farang friend here since loyal reader Ian came for a meal in April.

I took farang C to my condo, where he met Maiyuu.

He took a look out our ninth-floor window. Below is a slum sitting next to a railway line. Still, I guess the skyline looks good.

From our place, we can see a large stupa, which belongs to a temple; a private university, and a large private hospital.

Maiyuu greeted farang C, but otherwise said little and tried to stay out of sight. Maybe he was not in the mood for socialising.

Outside, it was raining.

'Here, let me help,' offered Maiyuu.

'Stand still,' he said, as he squeezed a bright orange poncho over farang C's head. He also gave us an umbrella.

'There!' he said, laughing.

'Thank you,' said farang C, impressed with Maiyuu's hospitality.

I took farang C to an eatery on the banks of the local canal.

We walked past youngsters playing basketball, and another playing area where local women were stretching and working out.

A gay man was perched on a box, leading a class in aerobics. 'He looks like he is in his element,' said C.

The eatery, which has open sides, is beside a pier. When we arrived, local teens were jumping off the pier into the canal.

They promptly asked us for B20 each, which we gave them.

One boy missed out. I told him to ask his friends to divvy up the money we had just given, as I had no more B20 notes to give.

'They won't share with me,' he said, looking dejected.

When long-tailed boats approached, most boys would clear out of the way, though a hardy few tried to grab the sides of the boat to scare the passengers, mainly foreign tourists.

The young man who wanted money popped his head in the window, and asked for money again.

'Do you have any B20 notes?' I asked farang C, as I had run out.

He gave the boy B35 in change, which he passed through the open side of the eatery.

Seeing him with money, the boy's friends swarmed around.

Wisely, the young man refused to split up the money, just as his friends had refused to share with him. He thanked farang C with a big wai .

Inside the eatery, a Thai man in his 50s was eating alone.

'Very good,' he said in English to no one in particular, referring to the dishes he ordered.

'I come to this pier every day, sometimes several times a day, because I grew up by the sea, and love the water,' I told farang C earnestly.

'I am the same...I love the water, and miss it where I live. You are lucky to have this eatery, and the canal,' he replied.

As the rainy skies cleared and the sun began to set, the last few long-tailed boats of the day went by, followed by a large passenger boat.

'I have never been to this eatery with the boyfriend, because he seldom ventures outside. I love this market, but Maiyuu barely makes use of it,' I said.

'One thing I enjoy is being able to show friends around. Almost every little shop here has a piece of history.'

'Is you boyfriend depressed? Why does he keep himself shut away all day?' farang C asked innocently. He is still getting to know us and our strange ways.

After finishing at the eatery, I took farang C on a brief tour of the market, past the local secondary school, and into the 7-11 where Mr Friendly works.

He was on duty, and looked nervous to see two large farang in his shop.

Hustling farang c out of the shop, I took him back to the condo, cutting back along the railway line.

'Would you like to visit Mum's shop in Thon Buri?'I asked.

The hour was late, but we hopped in a taxi. It took us past half a dozen massage joints and seedy nightclubs on a dimly-lit stretch of road.

'I didn't realise you had so many knock shops out here,' said C approvingly.

The market where I live is home to two barn-like massage dens, with gaudy neon signs on top. In the neighbourhood around our place, there are many more.

'I would never have to leave the market, if I had a home here,' said farang C. 'You want to swap condos? You can move into mine, and I'll live here,' he said.

He was joking, of course. But after introducing this market to my friend, I was reminded again about how much I enjoy living in an old Thai market, and how much I will miss it if we move.

Dream-maker slow off the mark

Boyfriend Maiyuu is baking a cake for the man who cuts his hair. Today is pay day, so we have money to do such things.

He sat in my lap for the first time in weeks. 'I am excited about moving to a new condo, but worried about the amount of work involved in moving,' he said.

Today I am expecting a call from the condo where we would like to live. The manager is calling with the names of any owners who have places to rent.

People buy units at the condo, then rent them out.

I have made a list of things I need to ask. I ran them past Maiyuu, as he will need to talk to the owner too.

We have furniture, so do not need a place which is already furnished. We will need to a mattress and a bed for Maiyuu, but we can worry about that later.

Maiyuu sleeps on a padded mat. He has no bed. If he doesn't like it, he has never complained.

However, he is excited about having his own bedroom to sleep in at the new place, should the move go ahead.

'Don't agree on a price right away. We need to talk about the maintenance fee, if there is any. Hopefully, we can split it, as the owner should really pay half,' he said.

'When you have finished talking to the owner, I will talk to him too,' said Maiyuu.

Thais bond more easily with each other than they do with farang. However, Maiyuu is happy for me to undertake initial negotiations, now that I have made contact with the condo.

This being Thailand, I doubt the manager will call with a list of owners' names as promised. I shall have to call myself.

When we had finished talking, I picked up Maiyuu and sat him down in the next room.

I wonder how long he has wanted to move, but never said anything.

At first when I suggested moving, Maiyuu did not seem interested, and I wondered why.

One reader suggests he was merely waiting for me to take a lead. I have now taken first steps. I told Maiyuu that I am keen on moving. I have viewed the place, spoken to the office, and told Maiyuu that I will get the money for a deposit from overseas.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Now that Maiyuu can see signs that our moving dream might come true, he is so excited that he can barely sleep.

I wish he had spoken up sooner, or that I had realised he was unhappy living here. I chastise myself for being a fool.

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?