Wednesday, 20 May 2009

Just another brain growth




So I have suffered 20% hearing loss in one ear - it won't kill me.

Back at Chulalongkorn Hospital yesterday, I saw the ear specialist, who looked at the results of my hearing tests and gave me a list of possible causes for the loss of hearing which has occurred in my left ear. They are:

1. General deterioration in the nerves of my brain, probably related to age.

2. A piece of fat has broken off from where fatty deposits lie, and entered my brain through a blood vessel.

3. A non-malignant growth in my brain

We eliminated other possible causes. They were:

1. Disease, such as Aids, diabetes, syphilis

2. An accident, such as being knocked on the head.

3. Routine exposure to loud noises, such as a gun going off.

'If it's simply age, I can't account for why the hearing in your left ear has deteriorated, but your right ear remains the same, because in theory the should be deteriorating at the same rate,' said the doctor, a woman in her early 20s.

'I will ask you to have another test - a brain scan,' she said, looking sheepish.

If my brain scan came back normal, she would get me to come back every six months for regular checks. If the scan of my brain waves came back abnormal, then the next step was an X-ray.

Every time she refers to me to get this or that bodily function tested, I have to wait another couple of hours, which might not seem like much compared to the rest of my life, but is a drag nonetheless.

Then, once the test is complete, I have to make an appointment to see her another day.

Been there, done that. The public health system isn't worth the effort.

After seeing the specialist, I lined up with a dozen other patients to make my appointment for a brain scan.

The space where we queued is at the entrance of the outpatients' clinic. It was crowded and congested. Patients were coming in, an old woman in a wheelchair was trying to get out. The single nurse on duty at the appointments counter was handling this chaos alone.

Such indignities. Half an hour earlier, a young woman who escorted her able-bodied mother to the clinic told me to surrender my seat. 'Stand up!' she barked.

At the urging of the nurses, I came in early: 7.30am, only to find that the specialists don't start work until 9.30am.

I've had enough of this nonsense, I thought. After five minutes, I gave up and walked out.

At the front desk, I told the nurses that I could not see the brain scan people today. They made an appointment for me next week. I probably won't go, as I can't be bothered.

If my hearing gets worse, I shall visit a private hospital instead. Maiyuu will just have to find the money from somewhere, or I will sneak out with his blasted I-phone in the middle of the night and hock it off at the nearest corner market.

Do you hear me, lad?

Just joking. I'm the one with the difficulty hearing, not him.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Thee Chaiyadej: Love is...

Below is a piece on folk guitarist Thee Chaiyadej.

In a rash moment a few weeks ago, I deleted it. Thankfully, I had kept a copy somewhere, which I have now revived.

I have updated the post to include a Youtube video of Thee singing in concert, and two other videos of Thee songs which were not available on the internet at the time I wrote the piece, more than 12 months ago.

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'I love you too darling I think of you all the time and some day I not have time for u but I still think of u and worry how u do at home อย่าเพิ่งอวกนะพูดจริงๆจากใจ BIG KISS FOR MY BIG PIGGIE and a little hug because I am a little guy, can't do big hugs.'

Maiyuu sent me that text message a few days ago. The bit in Thai says: 'Don't vomit, because I mean this from the bottom of my heart.'

The night before, he came home looking worried. I asked him to hop on the bed with me, and tell me what was wrong.

He said he was worried about his future, and what would happen if one day I decided to go back to my home country.'I don't want to go back, because I like Thais too much, and I love you. If I went home, I would miss you,' I told him.

I feel too grateful to Maiyuu to just quit one day, and leave. Good people don't do that to each other.

As I reflected on that moving text message, I thought about the other romantic things that bind me to this place.

One of them is music, and in particular the love songs of folk singer Thee Chaiyadej. Maiyuu introduced me to him. For my birthday recently, he bought me Thee's Very Best Of album.

Thee's soft acoustic sounds get under my skin, his poetic, dreamy lyrics into my heart in a way few other Thai artists do - and he does it with little commercial fanfare.

He has no website in his name, nor fansites that I can find. No huge, flashy, Grammy-style concerts for him, but intimate, blues-club style gatherings where he played his instrument of choice - acoustic guitar - for many years, before the 'indie' Bakery label signed him up about 10 years ago.

Uncommonly for a Thai popular singer, Thee (ธีร์ ไชยเดช) is not afraid to perform in English, nor experiment with alternative genres and sounds.

Even more unusually, perhaps, is that he does not pursue a full-time career as a musician, but fits it around his commitments to work as an air traffic controller.

'The job demands intense concentration and carries a high level of responsibility. If I know I have to work the next day, I cannot stay up late performing, as I need to get enough rest,' he says.

I first saw Thee perform a few years ago, on a concert VCD by Bakery label artists.

Thee, released his first album, Why in 1995, followed in 1997 by an album called Bakery Love 3, in which he performed covers of well-known Bakery tunes.

That was followed in 1998 by solo albums There, and Story, and in 1999 by Past. He released another solo album, After Brake, in 2001. His first two albums were virtually all sung in English.

His first album in which the songs were mainly sung in Thai was 1998's Story. Past was a compilation album of his most popular songs.

Before approaching Bakery with samples of his work, Thee had played the club circuit in Bangkok for years, including the Saxophone Club.

Thee is often associated with the late Joe Amarin Luangboribun, of the pop group Pause.

Thee produced albums for Joe, both when Joe was lead singer for Pause, and then as a solo artist. In 2002, he released a song he wrote in tribute to his younger friend, called 20202.

Thee has worked as an air traffic controller for Aerothai for 21 years. He started performing music more than 30 years ago, and can play acoustic guitar in various genres, including reggae, and blues.

As a Bakery artist he performed his first solo concert in 2002, which was his first chance to perform for his fans in a variety of musical styles.

Thee said he wanted his fans to know he could do more than just croon Bakery-style love songs. Most of his fans, funnily enough, are not listeners in the over-25 age group, but the young, including teenagers.

He draws his inspiration from Western folk artists such as Bob Dylan, Crosbie Stills, Nash and Young, Don McLean. He likes to tell a story when he sings; music is there mainly to accompany the story, to provide the right setting, or mood.

As a musician, Thee Chaiyadej blazes his own path - an individualistic quality in his work which he himself recognises:

'My music has changed over time. I don't want people thinking I have the same sound. I like musicians who want to be their own person. I am brave enough to do it, and the listener gets the benefit.'

Postscript:

1. Here's Thee performing Kam Mai Kee Kam with 'Pod' Thanachai Ujjin, of the performing duo BoydPod (and the indie band Modern Dog).

2 The song which Thee wrote for his friend Joe of the group Pause, shortly after Joe's death. It's called 20202.

3. Thee branches out into music with a Spanish flavour: the beautiful Gypsy Moon.

Monday, 18 May 2009

Repeat after me: Fish, Policeman, Pig

A visit to the doctor in Bangkok is always an experience. Last night, I went to Chulalongkorn Hospital about my left ear.

It has felt odd for weeks, as if it is full of water. At work last night, I was having trouble hearing.

I belong to a social insurance scheme, which allows me to visit my local state hospital for free.

It has been years since I visited Chula. I had forgotten what to do. I didn't even know where it was, and was surprised to find the hospital is just around the corner from the top of Silom.

If you go to Chula after hours, you visit the emergency room, even if your problem is not that acute.

The place is stuffed with young doctors, men and women alike. I was the only foreign face there, and was quickly surrounded by doctors eager to probe me about my condition.

I jostled for attention with aged monks in flimsy robes, children with minor scrapes, middle-aged women with purple faces.

Chulalongkorn Hospital is supposedly the nation's top state hospital.

The emergency ward is run-down; the corridors surrounding it, where I went to pay a token fee, are like a rabbit's warren, poorly lit and neglected.

My case was assigned to a young woman in a white coat, who questioned me for 20 minutes. She spent longer questioning me, in fact, than she did examining me.

While she was probing me earnestly, her colleagues approached me to chat.

'Hello!' one young doctor with a pock-marked face asked me in English, not once, but twice, even three times. The others laughed.

'Farang ears! ' they must have thought. 'They are bigger than Thai ears...I wonder what goes wrong with farang ears that we don't find in Thai ears.'

My young doctor consulted a senior colleague, who looked in my ear after she had finished. 'You have an abrasion,' she said.

The doctor referred me to a specialist at the same hospital.

I went to see her at an ENT outpatients' clinic at 8am today.

I waited 3.5 hours before my name was called, which was a pain.

I complained several times about the delay, but really should have held my tongue: in the West, at least when I left the place, patients can wait months to see a specialist.

A young woman, slightly older than the doctor from the night before, saw me.

She took a quick look in my ear, and asked me to get my hearing tested at a lab across the way.

That took another hour or two. The highlight was getting my hearing tested in a sound lab, built in a sound-proofed tank.

It looked like a diver's tank. The only thing it lacked was one of those wheels on the door which you swivel around to get it open.

The lab has one window, looking out into the doctor's office. I sat inside, while the doctor stayed at her desk, talking to me through a microphone.

'Put the headphones on, and hold up your finger every time you hear a pulse,' she said.

She told me to turn away from the window, so I couldn't see when she pressed her pulse switch.

Beep!

I raised a finger.

The modulation of the beeps varied, as did the pitch. Some, I could barely make out. Judging by the results of my test, I missed some beeps altogether.

Inside the tank, I was surrounded by toys, no doubt intended for the amusement of kids whose parents bring them in to get their hearing tested.

The best part?

The woman testing my hearing - at 44, the oldest of all the doctors who treated me - asked me to repeat Thai words after her.

She put a face mask between her mouth and the microphone, to muffle the words as she spoke. Some were hard to make out.

'Fish.'

'Pig.'

'Student.'

'Policeman.'

This is the way to learn a language, I thought - repeat the words as a native speaker pronounces them.

Unfortunately, my pronunciation habits are already cast like dye into my memory. They are hard to change, even when I try.

Fortunately, I did not do too bad a job learning the pronunciation rules when I started on Thai nine years ago.

Well, that's what I tell myself. Forgive an ageing man his indulgences.

PS: The result? The hearing in my left ear has diminished 20%. I go back on Wednesday to see if we can find the cause.

PS 2: I spent the day surrounded by women doctors, which is welcome. For some silly reason, I thought the Thai medical profession might be dominated by men.

Saturday, 16 May 2009

Idolising Au (อุ๊ หฤทัย): Go for it, girl!



Even as my age, it is okay to have idols...to follow them devotedly, in fact.

Since the early days of our relationship, boyfriend Maiyuu has introduced me to Thai singers, actors, writers and other arty types who take his fancy.

Some have been with him since he was a teenager. His Mum or his sister might have liked them. Or maybe he discovered them through his gay friends.

Maiyuu took the opportunity to pass on what he knows to me.

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Most of the contemporary, soft-pop singers Maiyuu likes are favourites of the gay set.

Many are women, such as Mint Maleewan Jemina, Amp Saowaluck Leelabutr... Some are wannabe women, such as superstar Bird McIntyre.

Bangkok flower market
Among the real women, one of my favourites is Au Hareutai Puangboonsri, a former Grammy singer who has since branched out into new fields (more of that below).

In fact, it would be fair to say that she became my first Thai singing idol.

I bought her albums: her solo efforts, her early albums with the group Seven.

I followed what she was doing in the news. Maiyuu even took me to one of her concerts, which she performed with fellow Grammy performer Amp Saowaluck Leelabutr.

Back in those days, Maiyuu was a social animal. His night-time adventures took him to the usual gay nightspots, such as Khao San Rd, Or Tor Kor.

A couple of times, he came across singer Au (อุ๊ หฤทัย ม่วงบุญศรี), who was herself out for the night.

In those days, she lived in Pak Khlong Talad, the Bangkok flower market, with a friend who ran a flower shop (see image above).

Maiyuu and I used to visit that market in the early hours, to buy flowers for our place. However, I never saw singing diva Au myself.

One night, Maiyuu spotted Au walking down Khao San Rd. Another time, she was sitting in a small bar drinking with friends.

Maiyuu and I were both fans, so he plucked up the courage to talk to her.

'Pee, do you mind if I take your picture on my cellphone?' Maiyuu asked.

Au put down her cigarette, and her whisky.

'You know, she drinks Sang Som!' Maiyuu told me later, referring to that harsh Thai rum which makes hair grow on a man's chest.

She posed for his cellphone picture, which was kind. But there was more.

'My farang boyfriend loves you. Would you mind signing something?' he asked.

'A farang!' she exclaimed. 'I didn't know I had many farang fans.'

Maiyuu borrowed a piece of paper from the bar and gave it her to sign. She addressed it to me in English, then signed her name in Thai.

My name is hard to spell, and she got it wrong. But it is the thought that counts.

Today, I still have that scrap of paper, along with a couple of news clippings of Au in the flower market with her singer friend Amp.

They were promoting their singing-duo concert.

Maiyuu took me to the concert, the only time I have been to a live concert with him in Bangkok.

The pair performed at the gritty Thammasat University hall.

The concert was great. I particularly enjoyed the banter between Au and Amp, as it brought me closer to her, I thought.

Back in those days, I entertained the thought of her as a potential girlfriend, should I lose Mayuu to some calamity.

As we listened to her, my eyes would well with tears (actually, they still do).

Usually, Mayiuu understood, as he found her voice moving too. But occasionally, Maiyuu would give me a worried look. 'Is my boyfriend going mad...again?'

In the last few years, Au has been busy with other things. In Phra Khanong district, close to where Maiyuu and I live, she is a local body representative, no small accomplishment in a country where politics is still dominated by men.

Dear Au...if I spot another pothole in the road, can I call you? And will you to send men in singlets around to fix it?

As part of the research for this post, I Googled my singing idol.

Husky voiced Au, in turns out, is a former student activist, who at the age of 18 spent a night and two days in prison.

This was during the May 1992 protests in Bangkok, popularly known as Black May. She said:

'My family is interested in politics. I was brought up with protest songs.

'As a child, my parents took me to commemoration events for the October 1973 massacre. Then, as an arts student at a technical college, I joined protests against the government of Suchinda Kraprayoon.

'I spent two months at the King Chulalongkorn Monument, where I saw solders shoot students. During the military crackdown, I sought sanctuary at the Rattanakosin Hotel, but soldiers found us.
King Chulalongkorn monument

'I spent a night in jail, along with other protesters. We were freed after the King, calling for social unity, intervened,' she told Kom Chad Luek newspaper.

Twelve years ago, Au embarked on a career as a performer, releasing her first album with the group Paper Jam. She also joined a group called Seven, and put out two solo albums.

However, she always had a sense of politics being in the background...waiting.

A few years ago, she took a break from singing to enter politics.

Au says she has achieved one of her life goals in being elected to serve the people of Phra Khanong as their local body representative.

'Politics brings me close to people,' she says.

Au also runs a muay thai boxing ring with her uncle. 'I am promoting muay thai as a national treasure...one of the performing arts in the fighting arena.

'Muay thai brings in a fortune to our country every year, but government help is still needed to preserve it.

'In the boxing ring, it is a fight between two people. In the political arena, the important thing is not who wins or loses, but the voters who get the benefit,' she says.

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Occasionally, Au returns to her old love, singing. Most recently, she performed in the 11th Green concert (promoted by a local radio station, Greenwave), called Seven Divas.

Au performs along with six other Thai singing doyen. All have been around a while...including one performer who next year celebrates her 20th year in the business.

Maiyuu bought the concert VCD, which we watched this morning. Au performed a couple of her hits from years ago.

She looks older, as do we all. Her voice has dropped markedly, and at times she seemed to be fighting for air.

'It's all the cigarettes and booze,' says Maiyuu.

However, she's still the same Au which Maiyuu and I have admired for almost a decade now.

Good on you, girl. You're a fighter.

Au is part of my earliest memories of Thailand - and I daresay Au (along with Maiyuu, my other girl) will be with me until the end of those days, too.

Postscript: Sample Au via YouTube here.

Friday, 15 May 2009

Tasty daily dramas

This blog is popular with readers when relations between my boyfriend and I are at a low ebb.

Readers like hearing about my difficulties with Maiyuu...the terrible things he does to me, the inept way I respond. Well, that's how many readers appear to view our relationship problems.

Regardless of who is the real mover and shaker in our relationship, my blog tracker tells me that for many readers, this blog is a more interesting read when Maiyuu and I are in the middle of some crisis.

The number of daily visitors spikes. When we are getting along well, reader interest falls.

It seems that I cannot make both go well at the same time. When my relationship with Maiyuu is ticking along happily, as it is at the moment - no fights, ructions - my blog slumps.

It becomes a poor, lacklustre, uninteresting lump of a thing, at least for those readers interested in the daily dramas of our lives. No drama, no fun!

Since my latest disagreement with Maiyuu over his unauthorised purchase of an I-Phone abated, readership has steadily declined.

I am now 200 readers a day lighter than I was at the peak of the drama, when thousands of readers visited my blog every day.

Okay, I exaggerate about the thousands of readers. Even so, it has still dropped.

Bangkok bloggers are a precious lot when it comes to disclosing their readership. None wants anyone to know how poorly read we are.

If a blogger wants to boast about a readership increase - and he will never tell us about a readership slump - he will invariably give us the percentage rise, without an accompanying raw figure.

Without the raw figure, the percentage rise is meaningless, even misleading.

That's the intention, of course. Bloggers who resort to such sleights of hand want us to think they are uber well-read.

'My blog readership increased 200% today!'

That's great, love - from two a day to six?

I want my readership to revive. However, I am also enjoying this recent improvement in my usually turbulent relations with Maiyuu. Which one do I value more? I give you one guess.