Saturday, 11 April 2009

Coconut pancake, bald patch, Songkran trance

Boyfriend Maiyuu can now add another dessert, kanom krok (coconut pancakes) to the list of Thai traditional desserts he can whip up. He used his new takoyaki (Japanese dumpling) maker. A recipe for kanom krok, accompanied by pictures, is here.

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Maiyuu says it is hard to push the peddles. I reply that he is simply out of shape.

As I walked back from the pool yesterday, I found Maiyuu riding his bike in a courtyard close to the condo entrance.

I leave the condo more often than Maiyuu, who spends most of his time in our room.

In daylight hours, he leaves the bike in the courtyard, and brings it in only at night.

'Is the bike still there?' he asks me when I return.

Maiyuu loves his bike. Maybe this is the first bike he has owned since he was a child, if indeed he ever owned one.

I enjoy watching him cycle round and round the courtyard fountain (broken long ago now, I'm afraid).

When he turned his back the other day, I spotted the donut-like bald patch at the crown of his head.

At 30, is he too old to be enjoying a bike? No.

Am I proud to have bought him the bike, which which evidently gives him so much pleasure? Of course.

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The Songkran water-throwing festival is upon us. Last night as I walked to work I spotted young people warming up for the event. They were under a bridge, dancing hypnotically to reedy Thai country music.

People who throw water like to dance up and down on the spot while they are waiting for victims to come along. It is a creepy dance, as if they are in a trance.

Songkran revellers are usually wearing wet clothes. When I first noticed this odd dance, I assumed it was to keep away the cold.

Kids do it, even people in their 20s, 30s. Now I have a simpler explanation: Songkran revellers dance to keep their spirits up.

They are trying to convince themselves that throwing water at each other and getting splashed in return for hours a day really is as fun as they have been led to believe.

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No one has invited Maiyuu out to play Songkran, which means that he might have to spend the long weekend stuck at home with me.

In previous years, he has rarely been at home. He would squirt or splash water by day, and go out to discos at night.

'I call my friends, but no one answers. And no one has invited me out with them,' he says.

Maybe they're all getting too old, or they think he now lives too far away?

Friday, 10 April 2009

Bike squeezes in, Thai custard, Japanese dumplings, Shrink on hiatus

We have found a way to squeeze Maiyuu's mountain bike into the lift.

If we lift the front wheel, and he backs in, he can get both himself and the bike into the condo lift comfortably.

If he is alone, he has to try to back in while yanking the front of the bike upwards at the same time.

It is difficult, but can be done. So, no more lugging the thing down seven flights of stairs.

By day, he keeps the bike outside our condo building. At night, he brings it back upstairs, and the bike sleeps in the living room.

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The takoyaki (Japanese dumpling) maker is a success, at least as far as I am concerned.

Maiyuuu cooked up a batch of a couple of dozen dumplings yesterday. They are usually made with octopus, but Maiyuu put in prawns instead.

He drizzles a cheese and mayonnaise mix on top, along with those hairy dried fish things which move about in the air and look as if they have taken on a life of their own. Delicious!

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A reader asked if Maiyuu can make Thai traditional dessert (spelt with a double S). For the most part, no, although he can make Thai custard (sung khaya).

As it happens, the other day he made Thai custard, poured into hollowed-out pumpkin (fak thong sung khaya). That, too, was tasty, though Maiyuu reckons he has some way to go yet before he will be happy with it.

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The Shrink says his comments at this blog are not helping matters and he is likely to take a month off. Please enjoy your break.

That was good timing, as I was wondering what to do about him. The Shrink's negative commentary is in danger of dragging down the tone, and we can't have that.

While catfights are fun to watch, I don't think it looks good for the owner of a blog to argue with his readers.

I have said my piece. Yesterday the Shrink replied in his customary unpleasant manner.

Based on his reading of this blog, he reckons that I lack self-love, and probably come from a dysfunctional family. Now, as if those problems weren't enough, I suffer from possible alcohol, drug dependency and eating disorder problems as well.

I joked in a recent post that I may have chosen to give myself a little luvin' by treating myself to a chocolate cake. If I failed to mention it on the blog, readers would have no way of knowing. They could go on thinking that I do indeed lack self-love.

This was part of a wider point that if the Shrink accuses me of various failings often enough, they can take on a life of their own, in the absence of evidence one way or the other. Surely, I do not have to respond every time I get another 'You lack self-love' post?

The Shrink's response was so pedantic and gloomy that it made me laugh. I know that wasn't the intended reaction, but really, what else can you do with the following?

'I know you are older because you have mentioned things which point to your age. I know you are in ill-health because you have mentioned issues with drug and alcohol dependency, and with your weight (perhaps you have deleted them, so I am not going to try to dredge them up in detail- but I am sure you know what I mean).

'Anyway, good luck. You'll need it.

'PS - if you ARE having issues with your weight, treating yourself to chocolate cake is self-abuse, not self-love. Self-love would result in something that helps you and makes you better- and THAT will make you feel better more than any chocolate cake ever good.'

Er, er, er, you have caught me with my mouth full of cake! Should I spit it out, or swallow?

The Shrink has been a contributor here for some time, offering for free his opinions on the state of my mind.

I have not asked the Shrink, but I suspect he would be willing to offer his insights to help this blog's readers as well. An agony aunt column would be fun. Questions, anyone?

A gay Miss Manners column would be even more fun, but first we would need to find someone with 'pedigree' to offer advice.

The other day I thanked the Shrink - who remains a mysterious anonymous entity, about whom we know little - for adding colour to this blog.

However, I was just beginning to think that he may have outstayed his welcome this time, when he declared he was likely to take a month off. I'm sure some of us will end up missing him before the four weeks are up. True?

Thursday, 9 April 2009

Bike arrives, but without receipt

Boyfriend Maiyuu has bought his bike. It is a large, smart beast - a gleaming silver-and-blue mountain bike, with seven gears.

Maiyuu bought a quality bike. 'I don't want an ultra-cheap bike which mae ban (housekeepers, cleaners) use...they look as if they might fall apart,' he said.

Unbelievably, the thing appears to have come without an instruction manual.

As I write, Maiyuu has taken the thing for a ride to the supermarket, to buy ingredients for his new takoyaki (Japanese dumpling) maker.

He turned up with one of those yesterday, too, along with a handful of new bed sets, which cost about B200 each.

We get two each. I opened one pack last night. It contains a fitted sheet, two pillow cases, and two cases for bolster pillows - the sausage-shaped pillows for which I had no name, until readers kindly supplied it to me a few weeks ago.

But back to the bike. I had hoped to look up the make on the internet, and bring you a picture of thing if I was able to find it.

However, in the few short hours since Maiyuu brought the bike home yesterday, he has stripped all the stickers off the bike, and thrown away the receipt.

He also claims that he bought it without an instruction manual. When he walked in the door with the bike late yesterday, I did not see one, so perhaps he is right.

Maiyuu says the bike cost a bit over B10,000. But without a receipt, I have no other way of telling.

He bought it from a shopping mall close to our old home in Thon Buri. If I cared enough, I could trek back to the mall and ask them.

I write this post mindful of what regular reader the Shrink has been telling me about my life.

'Love yourself more - then all your boyfriend problems will sort out themselves!'

Before Maiyuu bought the bike, I asked him to bring home a receipt. I did that in the name of self-love, self-preservation, or whatever you want to call it. No one likes to be cheated of his money.

If I truly loved myself, I would still demand evidence of how much it cost, right? Yes, yes, dear reader. Been there, done that.

In Maiyuu's absence, I have flicked through the desk drawer where he keeps the household bills and his stash of condoms.

That's a strange mix of things to keep in one place, I know. I found plenty of condoms, but no receipt for the bike. I did find what looks like a partial consumer guarantee for the bike, but it tells me neither the price, nor the make.

Boyfriend Maiyuu has reverted to his nasty, feral ways...secretive, and possibly dishonest. All this, over a mere B10,000? But then he comes from the provinces, has no job, and no income of his own.

He must be aware of the precariousness of his lot. No farang boyfriend = tough times!

If the bike actually costs less than he told me, and he spent the difference on his dumpling maker and bed sets, I do not really mind. But why not just say so? Maybe I make too big a deal out of financial accountability...demanding he show me this receipt and that.

I am not tracking every last baht...I can't be bothered. But one day, I might have to tell my boy that, as much as I love him, this childishness has to end.

The bike is too big to fit in the lift, and for security reasons Maiyuu does not want to leave it on the ground floor, or chain it up outside.

He has decided to keep it inside the condo instead.

Go for it, lad! We are on the seventh floor. When Maiyuu wants to use it, he has to cart it down an exhausting seven flights of stairs.

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

Noisy diners, long walks, desert/dessert

I took boyfriend Maiyuu out for lunch yesterday. He chose the place, and ordered the dishes. It was our first time out for a meal since we moved to central Bangkok.

We took lunch at an eatery in Soi Sri Bumpen. Decorated in green, the Krapao Krob eatery serves excellent Thai food, offers an extensive Thai menu, and even makes home deliveries.
A farang was sitting to the left of the entrance as we walked in. A Thai girl served him. 'Krub! Krub! Krub! he said in a loud voice.

This was a man who wanted to be noticed. I am flattered that when I walk into eateries in the tourist district, many farang want to 'reach out' to me, by showing me how important they are.

Some put on a showy display of their Thai language skills. Others stride into the middle of a highly visible public place, such as a street, to pull out the cellphone and make one of those Deal Clincher telephone calls.

Well, that's the impression they give. Maybe they are just calling their Thai headmaster-boss to see when they are due at tomorrow's lowly staff meeting.

Twenty minutes later, as were tucking into our meal, the farang paid his bill.

He let loose another impressive burst of Thai - short witticisms, uttered loudly, to impress upon this farang diner the fact that he was Well Known to the people who run the restaurant, was Local, and Very Funny as well.
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Sri Bumpen Road
After lunch, Maiyuu took me on an hour-long walk back home. Our journey took in the green eatery on Sribumpen Road at one end, and the Ibis Hotel at the other.

At the end of the street, we took a left at the 7-11, then walked down the next soi on the right towards Sathorn, passing a few places I remember from my early days in Bangkok.

Here, a building where a Thai woman - one of my first friends in Bangkok - asked me to invest in an internet shop she wanted to open. That would make me a shareholder, right? Don't be silly. She just wanted my money.

There, a place where I visited a high-price dentist. 'He was too expensive,' said Maiyuu, as we walked past the spot yesterday.

'You have a good memory,' I replied.

On North Sathorn Rd, we emerged at the towering LH Bank (Land and Houses Retail Bank), which wasn't even built when I arrived in this city nine years ago.

'Back then, it was a vacant lot,' Maiyuu reminded me.

We walked through the shopping arcade on the ground floor, looking for any shops selling traditional Thai desserts. We found none, though we did see Thais in university uniform sitting in smart cafe-style eateries.

'I miss foi thong from the market,' said Maiyuu, referring to a Thai dessert we used to buy regularly at our old home in Thon Buri.

That all seems so long ago.

Just before we reached the rear of our condo, Maiyuu took my hand. We walked together, hand-in-hand, for about 20m.

He also took my hand earlier, just outside the mighty LH Bank. What came over him? Normally he is too shy to show affection outdoors...or am I just imagining it?

I looked at him. He was smiling, and looked happy.

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I can't spell the word 'dessert', as in after-dinner sweet things, I have just discovered.

I tend to use the word 'desert', as in dry sandy things, even when I mean the sweet edibles.

I looked up the word on my blog, as part of my 'research' for the last story. I made the mistake about half a dozen times. I have now corrected it.

Tuesday, 7 April 2009

Thai blogging life: Hit me with your comments stick (reply to the Shrink)

Boyfriend Maiyuu is hopeless. Or maybe the problem really lies with me...

Newcomers to this blog are probably wondering which is true (and why they should care).
In recent months, regular reader the Shrink has volunteered much advice about what I should do with my relationship.

Sometimes, I get annoyed and say so. Once or twice, I have even deleted his comments, as I thought they went too far (well, I assume they were his - he posts under the 'anonymous' label after all).

Yet am I justified in complaining?

Someone who writes for an audience should expect that sometimes readers might not agree with him, or offer views on his life which he doesn't want to hear.

I accept that some of what regular reader the Shrink says is hard to take, and that occasionally friends and even members of my family have said much the same thing - boyfriend Maiyuu is a waste of time, manipulative, and so on.

However, I stand by my assertion that no one is in a position to know as much about what is really happening as the actors involved - me, him, and people who know us or who have met us.

I will stay in the relationship for as long as I think it is going somewhere. Should we meet problems, then we will have to sort them out ourselves. Ending the relationship is a drastic solution to something which could still be repaired.

Why we bother trying to fix things if they break? Usually because they still have some value to us. When they cease to have that value, we trade them in or discard them for a new good.

I would like to thank the Shrink for adding colour to this blog. A while ago, I declared that reader responses were the best part about any blog, and for the last few months have encouraged more of them.

Someone left a message yesterday saying he could understand why some readers liked to bitch about Maiyuu and me - because I wrote in such a way that almost demanded a response, or was angling for comments.

True! I want comments, and the more the better. I won't like them all, of course, but I don't care.

When I started writing this blog, readers rarely commented, and nor did I welcome them. I thought I could do it on my own. Blogging was a way to vent, or prove to myself that I could still write. Boring!

Now, I feel differently. A blogger is just one voice. If readers take part as well, then many voices are represented on our little stage.

If readers are interacting with 'content', then that content takes on a new life.

When I realised how much I valued reader comments, I changed the way I write, to draw them out more often.

Yesterday I invited the Shrink to become a regular contributor to this blog. Judging by his latest response, the Shrink doubts my motives.

Actually, I am keen on inviting someone else to write for this blog, and thought the Shrink might make a good choice, as he appears to have a good command of English.

The arch, bitchy, moody queen in him comes across clearly. By which I mean, he has a good writer's voice.

I did not extend the invitation merely to 'marginalise' his opinions, though if he was to write in this space then he should expect readers might well subject his stories to as much scrutiny as they do mine.

We are all interested in each other's lives. The question is, are we willing to 'share', to use the ghastly modern parlance?

Apparently, I made some outrageous 'projections' about Shrink's conduct with boyfriends. Sorry about that.

Now that I have said sorry, I hope we can move on.

Message to the Shrink: If you're worried that I would attempt to undermine stories about your life, by making other 'projections' about what it might all mean, then I think you should rest easy.

If you are even half as good a writer as I hope, then your stories will cry out for reader reaction. Regular visitors to this blog will pile in to leave their views: how they feel about decisions you have made your life, especially where Thais are concerned.

Like me, you might find some of the responses hard to take. But those who dish it out are usually just as good at taking it back in return. Right (cough, cough)?

However, in any event it seems 'personal circumstances' might conspire against you taking part. 'Personal circumstances?' Almost everything about blogging is personal.

If you lack the courage to tell us about your life, then just say so. No need to be a bashful queer!

The last word should go to The Shrink:

'You have characterised me in other critical posts as someone who probably "has a different young English-speaking boy in his bed every night".'

That was intended as a criticism? How remiss of me...I must have succumbed to an envy attack. In most circumstances, my response would be: 'Good luck to you, dear!'

Now, how about telling us those stories!