Condo gets make over, boyfriend goes bohemian, Mr Graceful says goodbye

I walked into my condo, and barely recognised it.

Boyfriend Maiyuu has taken advantage of my absence over the last 10 days to revamp the place.

Gone are the writing table and bed base in his room. He is now sleeping with the mattress on the floor.

The computer, which used to sit on his desk, is now on the floor. He has even bought a dinky fan to keep himself cool while he is using it.

Maiyuu switches into busy gear when I go away. He appears to relish the freedom which my absence provides. He can go to work on ‘big picture’ stuff, as he can suit himself what he does, and at what pace.

'I can do a much better job at cleaning and decorating when there are no farang around nagging me to clean this and do that,’ he told me on the way back from the airport.

We took a taxi home, but he took a bus out to the airport to greet me, to save money.

Maiyuu has also cleaned the place top to bottom, and hung pictures on the walls.

But the highlight of his welcome home was undoubtedly the changes he made to my room. Maiyuu moved the bed sideways, so it is now parallel to the green-tinted windows rather than at a right angle.

The headboard is now in front of where I used to sit at the computer. My old built-in table has now become an extended headboard, where I have placed framed pictures of my family.

Maiyuu also bought a two-tiered study desk for my computer, which you can see in the picture. Now, when I am working, I can turn to my left and watch him in the sitting room.

Before I had to leave my work station if I wanted to talk to him.

This is the first big shake-up of the furniture and other arrangements in our place since we moved in six months ago, and our condo looks much better for it.

If I want to know how much Maiyuu has missed me, I need only look around at the changes he has made. It’s all there, in the many hours he must have spent cleaning and transforming the place.

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At the airport, Maiyuu turned up looking fashionably depleted – a faded pair of jeans, cardigan over a T-shirt, and bright green sneakers without socks.

‘You look sir-sir...in a good way, ‘ I said, referring to the Thai word for fashionably bohemian, or rough.

‘Run down and haggard, more like it,’ replied Maiyuu, though his face was beaming.

When I am away Maiyuu rarely looks after himself properly, as it is no fun to eat alone.

‘I make food for myself, but it does not taste as good,’ he told me in a text message while I was away.

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The graceful one has gone. Silom Farang wants a break from daily
blogging, and has stopped filing regular updates to his blog, Gay Boy Thailand.

The story of Silom’s adventures in the Land of Smiles was pulling in
3,000 or more readers a day by the time he pulled the plug last week.

It was much more than just a picture blog, Thai novel or diary of life with his Thai boyfriend, though it was all of those as well.

It was him; Silom’s ‘voice’ came across clearly in everything he wrote.

He treasured his interaction with readers, perhaps even needed it,
which gave his writing an earnest and vulnerable quality which is
lacking in many other Thai blogs, mine included.

He wrote in a personal manner, like a friend. At times I wondered what Silom might have made of some of my Thai encounters. In the manner of any good friend, he appeared to be there, watching.

By nature, Thais are gentle and self-effacing. The same qualities come across in
Silom's writing, which made his blog better suited to his subject matter than perhaps even he himself realised.

He is Gentleman Silom, and we are fortunate for having known him
through his blog.

Western breakfast send-off, my elephant protector

Chef Maiyuu has made me a Western breakfast – a full-on affair with Paris ham, sausage, eggs, fried chips drizzled in farm honey, wholesome looking bread...

He cycled to the market this morning to buy the ingredients. Normally we eat Thai, but as I am about to go away...

Maiyuu cooks me farang food on my last days here so that while I am away, I think of Thailand.

I know...perverse.

I am going overseas to see my parents, which I do every year. On our last night, my parents and I eat Thai at a local restaurant. We eat Thai so that when I go back, I think of the country of my birth.

Yes, as I say...odd.

The last time I was there, I stole a look inside the kitchen of the farang-owned Thai restaurant we visited on our last night.

I saw a young farang man standing before a large pot. He was holding up a Thai cook book, for instructions on what to do next.

The chicken curry which came out was laced with coconut milk. I think they even added banana, to make it more 'exotic'.

Occasionally we visit Thai-owned restaurants. My parents urge me to speak in Thai to staff, but I try to avoid it, as I don’t know how good their Thai will be.

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As a thank-you gift for my parents, Maiyuu has bought a carving in leather of an elephant, gilded in gold. Next, he will get it framed.

It took him days to find anything he liked. ‘I went to Suam Lum night bazaar. It has changed so much...I saw many more clothes sellers, though fewer tourists. But I did find the leather elephant there.'

My parents don’t want too much Thai clutter on their walls, as it reminds them of the country which took their son away.

But the elephant, hand-carved on leather, does look uniquely Thai.

If they have not yet tired of telling newcomers that their eldest son is lost to the wilds of Thailand, then they can point to the elephant and say: ‘He’s probably riding around on one of those.’

Postscript: This blog is taking a two-week break. While I am away, the moderating bar will be in place, to keep out spam. I promise to take it down as soon as I return.

Lonely boyfriends, Thai family in spares

Maiyuu's tuile desert...the boat-shaped part is plain tuile, and the sail-like wafer slice sticking out the top is tuile made with thin slivers of almond.

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I am going overseas to see my family this month. Maiyuu is looking for a present for my parents. ‘People your parents’ age are so hard to buy for,’ he complained. ‘They must have everything they want by now.’

Maiyuu is not looking forward to my departure.

When I am here, he pedals to the market every day to buy food.

‘When you go, I won’t have to go any more. I will be alone in the condo, and missing you.’

‘I will call, and send many text messages,’ I said.

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Two days off from work lie ahead. What to do with them?

Maybe I should do something young and energetic, like going to see friends (I still have some of them, don’t I? Let me check).

I live in a big, exciting city after all. But I doubt I can be bothered.

At midday we will watch Mamma Mia on television. That should kill a couple of hours.

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I hate the internet in the mornings.

About 9am, when I like to post, my internet service is intermittent at best, presumably because everyone is getting into work and switching on their computers.

Bugger them...they should just wait. Can’t they see an artist is at work?

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‘Mama...Do this. Ma...Do that.’

That’s my Thai-Chinese student, Bass. I teach him English.

We meet at his family’s shophouse for lessons.

One day I walked in to buy something. A young man jumped to his feet to serve me, speaking in English.

This was unusual. Most Thais I meet are too shy, or gave up on the language years ago. But here was a young man who enjoys learning, and was keen to talk.

I asked him simple questions in English, to test his skills. He understood everything, and replied promptly and politely.

‘Would you like to teach English conversation to Bass?’ asked Mum, who was listening.

And so we began. We meet most days in the afternoons for English lessons.

Mum likes to watch us talk, but Bass would rather she do jobs about the home.

‘Ma...fetch more paper, please. And a pen?

‘Ma, please answer the phone.

‘Mama, a customer needs serving.’

Mum does as she is told.

Middle-class Thai parents indulge their offspring. But their kids are also expected to pull their weight, at school if not at home.

It is school-holiday time. Bass, who is 15, helps his mother in the shop, but spends most of his days playing computer games, and talking to his girlfriend (‘No, she's just a friend,’ Mum insisted, when I let the dreaded ''girlfriend'' word slip).

He spends hours a day talking to the girl, whom he met on the internet.

Mum lets him get away with it, because it’s part of the deal she has made with her son to keep him on the right path.

She can tolerate his self-indulgent behaviour at home, as long as he works during the school term. Where girlfriends or other potential sources of academic disruption are concerned, Bass must keep his sights set low.

‘He is too young for girlfriends...still a baby. He must finish school, go to university and get a job before he can think about such things,’ said Mum.

‘That’s a long way off yet,’ I reminded her. 'I don't think of him as a baby.'

Bass's comprehension of English excellent. His Mum, by contrast, has none.

Bass, who has an elder brother at university, attends an all-boys state school; before that, he studied at private single-sex school where most instruction is in English.

His academic record is excellent. After school, he takes extra tuition classes. Every Monday, he takes military training.

Mum, Dad, and their two sons might do something as a family - go the shops, play sport - once a week. But for the rest of the time, it’s work, work, work.

My student's rigorous academic regime reminds me of the one I myself suffered at secondary school. But that was in the West, at a private school which charged high fees.

Mum and Dad could probably afford to give him more freedom and independence without risk of spoiling the goods.

While I am teaching, Mum brings me fruit, Chinese tea, home-made chrysanthemum juice, and other treats.

If I started issuing orders to Mum too, would she jump just like she does for her son?

Energy drinks, mad dogs, and mass tetanus shots

Boyfriend Maiyuu is feeling better after his dog bite.

His mother took him for tetanus injections when he was a child, he told me last night.

Maiyuu, who grew up in Chon Buri province, lived in a shared housing compound with his grandmother, aunt and other relatives.

‘My grandmother owned a dog called Lipo, named after the energy drink. She used to take this energy drink late at night during marathon card-playing sessions.

‘Anyway, one day Lipo started going mad. My aunt was teaching students at home.

‘Doctors from the Ministry of Health visited us and gave us all a tetanus injection as a precaution.

‘Lipo never did bite me, but one day he did go mad so they put him down.’

Thankfully, they took Lipo away to do that.

In the provinces, Maiyuu says public health authorities can visit folks at home to administer care, such as tetanus injections.

Alternatively, they visit schools. Students line up and are given an injection one by one.

Maiyuu's tasty ankle

A street dog has taken a bite out of my boyfriend’s leg.

Maiyuu was on his bicycle yesterday when he tossed a cigarette in the direction of a hostile neighbourhood dog.

He doesn’t like these dogs, as they chase him when he is on his bike.

This one didn’t appreciate the cigarette butt gesture. It bounded after him and bit Maiyuu’s leg, just above the left ankle.

Maiyuu suspects the dog belongs to a som tam (spicy Thai salad) trader, who witnessed the scene.

‘He looked bewildered, as I didn’t stop to inspect the bite, but just kept going,’ said Maiyuu, who presented his wound for my inspection when I returned from work last night.

The wound is not deep, but looks angry. Maiyuu has applied an antiseptic, and is walking around with the wound uncovered, so it stays dry and heals quickly.

‘At first it felt numb, so I didn’t race away, but kept up my normal speed.’

Normally Maiyuu darts about when he is on his bike, but when he passed the som tam dog yesterday was going at dawdling speed.

Maybe the dog was confused to see him going past so slowly, so decided to bite him. Or maybe he is a reformed smoker.

‘I lashed out with my foot as I passed; I think I struck it in the head,’ said Maiyuu.

Excellent. If it had been me, I would have hopped off my bike to have a self-indulgent moan to the owner.

Thais would have been sympathetic, as they love a good drama. They would laugh and point, as laughing is the best antidote to misery, even if it may seem an odd reaction to foreigners worried about the prospect of getting rabies.

I have been bitten by Thai street dogs, usually while I am in a tired and emotional state, so to speak. They know how humans walk, and when we weave about reckon we have hostile intent. These days I try to avoid dogs after I have been drinking.

Maiyuu is taking it all in his stride. He walks normally, without a limp, though the wound looks red and swollen this morning.

‘Did you have bad dreams?’ I asked.

‘No.’

At my smart inner-city condo, we are surrounded by street dogs. A pack of 10 or more lives in the slum section to the rear. Another large family of mutts lives on the leafy side of the condo, by the entrance.

During the night, they howl. A particularly plaintive howl by one mutt can set off a doggy chorus which reverberates around the neighbourhood like a Mexican wave.

I will take a different approach tonight when I pass the dogs on my way home. When I walk their way, they sniff at my ankles, as if looking for a tasty spot to bite.

I am never sure how to react. Talk to them? Pretend I don’t notice?

I try to look friendly, but tonight I shall be extra nice: I might blow canine kisses. If I am lucky, they might let me pass.