Sleeping beauties, ya dong gang's last hurrah

I went to see Ball at his place, on the same day his girlfriend, Jay, had called me to ask for a loan.

I wasn’t able to help with the loan, but had offered to talk to Ball about the importance of his finding work.

Jay had sounded keen to see me, perhaps because her own efforts to persuade Ball to get a job have not borne fruit.

I needn’t have bothered, as by the time I arrived – 3pm, on the rump of a sunny afternoon when most people are doing active things – both were asleep.

‘Where’s Ball?’ I asked his Mum, who was sitting on the living room floor, playing a board game.

‘He hasn’t risen yet,’she said. ‘He’s asleep in my bedroom. A friend of his called early this morning and asked him out drinking,’ she said.

His younger brother, Mr B, opened the bedroom door, and turned on the lights.

I took a quick look inside. Ball and Jay lay in each other’s arms, fast asleep.

Mission unaccomplished, I left.

-
Carer R plans a group trip to his home province of Yasothon during the Songkran festival next month.

He has invited his ya dong regulars along, including Ball and me.

I am unlikely to go, as the trip would take me away from home for a whole week. That represents lost income opportunities, and missed opportunities to get closer to the boyfriend (okay, I am joking about that).

I can’t imagine Ball will go either, as he will need money, and if I’m not there, he may have trouble finding a provider.

Yet the trip could probably represent our list fling together as a ya dong gang.

Carer R plans to move to Yasothon to stay with his wife’s father, who is old and ailing. He will take work as a contract builder at temples, and help keep his father-in-law’s place going.

‘He spends many hours alone. If I am there, he won’t feel so lonely. We can also cook for him,’ said R.

Carer R, as my name for him suggests, is the caring type. The other day a drunken vagrant turned up in the little street where R sets up his stand.

Market traders were selling fresh vegetables and fish on the ground nearby.

No one else felt motivated to help, but carer R found a begging cup for the man, and a better location for him to sit which was exposed to more foot traffic.

He also bought him a bottle of fruit juice.

He’s never met the guy before, but felt sorry for him, or wanted to make merit (doing good in the hope of getting something good back in return), so took it upon himself to help.

A similar generous spirit motivates his decision to leave Bangkok and move in with his father-in-law in the Northeast.

The ya dong stand will stay open, even if he goes. His mother-in-law, a cleaner who lives opposite the stand, will run it.

She raises two adopted children aged 10, and goes to bed as soon as she gets home from work in mid-evening.

Our ya dong experience won’t be the same; the shop, indeed, may as well close, at least for those of us who are rarely free at that hour, and tend to do our socialising later at night.

What will happen to my relationship with Ball and his family, after carer R leaves for the provinces with his girlfriend?

When I saw Ball last night, he shook my hand enthusiastically, and asked me if I had anything to get off my chest.

‘Are you having fun? Was work OK? We haven’t seen each other for several days,’ he said.

I found a new scar on Ball’s leg. His skin, as I have said before, is so fine that it shows all marks, no matter how small.

‘I burnt my leg on a motorcycle exhaust...it’s nothing,’ he said.

It looked sore, and worried me.

With R’s departure, Ball will have lost a mentor from his life, and I will have lost a friend.

Cosy nester, Ball's girl asks for loan

This little bird has taken up residence on my verandah, somewhere behind the air con unit you see on the right.

During the day, it makes broody noises – coo, coo, coo!

Occasionally Maiyuu goes out to talk to it. ‘What are you doing, little one?’ he asks.

I worry that Mr Bird take a stroll inside our place, which is why I keep the wire mesh doors between the living room and verandah closed (those same doors explain why the image looks fuzzy – they were closed as I took the picture).

I worry even more that he could take flight while inside, and get his talons caught in my non-existent hair.

-
Ball’s girlfriend, Jay, called wanting a loan.

Her brother, who studies in Bangkok, needs to pay his term fees. On top of that, some family emergency has taken place which means that money he would normally have set aside for the fees had to be spent on something else.

‘How much?’ I asked.

‘Five thousand baht,’ she replied.

Jay was speaking on a cheap telephone. I could barely understand what she was saying, as the signal was so weak. But I heard the B5000 part as clear as day.

At times like this, I resort to an old standby excuse: My boyfriend keeps my ATM!

‘Every pay day he transfers to me an allowance which I use to meet my daily expenses.

'He keeps the rest, from which he meets our expenses as a couple. I could ask him for the money, but he has never met any of you, so why should he help?’ I said.

Jay understood, and apologised for asking.

I asked if her boyfriend had made any effort in the last couple of days to find work.

‘No... he just sits at home,’ she said.

‘I will drop in to see you late afternoon, so I can have a chat with Mr Ball about the importance of his pulling his weight,’ I said.

It’s the best I can do to help, as I am not prepared to lend money. I barely know Jay, and have never met her brother.

If Ball was working, they could save a little money, perhaps, so they would have something put aside for small family emergencies.

Jay already owes money to Ball’s mother, after she borrowed from her to help her brother on one previous occasion. She is paying it back.

She has asked Mum if could extend the loan for another B5000, but Mum doesn’t have that much lying around.

Neither do I, mercifully, but nor would I give it even if I had it saved.

The days of my lending money to anyone but my closest friends are over, if ever they existed.

I am here for me first, followed by Maiyuu. I do what I can to help my Thai friends, but there are limits.

Powdered rice, Good Samaritan chucks it in, 7-11 couple with babe in arms

(file pic from the net - original lost)

Roasted rice, ground into powder, which serves as a thickening agent in northeastern-style Thai dishes, such as laab moo and yum.

Chef Maiyuu makes his own. He puts uncooked rice in a frypan and heats it on a stove. When it has browned, he puts it in the blender to turn it into the powder you see here.

Asked why he doesn’t simply use flour, he said the dish would change if he did.

‘For these Thai dishes, we have to use khaow kua (roasted rice). If we used flour, the dish would turn into something else.’

'Roasted' is a strange choice of word, I know, but it’s what the dictionary gives me.

The difference between ‘roasted’ rice and ordinary ‘fried’ rice is that fried rice has been boiled (khaow suey) before it hits the pan. Roasted rice (khaow kua) is raw rice, thrown on a saucepan with very little oil.

-
Reader Lance urges me to take Maiyuu to a dentist, and Ball to a doctor.

We have covered this ground before. I can but encourage these people to see to their own health needs; I can’t force them anywhere.

If Maiyuu wants to see a dentist, he’s welcome. He has more than enough money saved, but has to take the next step himself.

Similarly, if Ball wants to see a doctor, I am sure his family could find a way. His mother spent B10,000 trying to get him to finish secondary school with a leaving qualification - without success, he told us the other night. Ball wasn't interested in studying, so kept bunking class.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way...but if Ball lacks the will to take the next step himself, there’s nothing the rest of us can do to help.

-
I bumped in to Ball, his adopted baby sister, and girlfriend at the 7-11.

It was only midday, which was shockingly early for Mr Ball to be up and about.

I was surprised to find him there. It’s not often that I see his pale figure in daylight.

Ball was carrying his baby sister in his arms. His girlfriend, Jay, looked as proud as punch.

Here they were, just like a real husband, wife and doting child out together for a quick jaunt to the local convenience store.

‘What are you doing today?’ I asked.

‘I have no work to do, so will probably spend the day at home,’ he said.

About 11pm, I called carer R. He was manning his ya dong stand.

Mr Ball, and one other regular customer were there. The ya dong had run out, so they had started drinking something else.

R handed the phone straight to Ball, who invited me to call over on my way home from work.

I declined, as I preferred the idea of a quiet hour or two with the boyfriend before bed, rather than in the company of late-night boozers in the slum.

The Little Prince

Young Ball was B100 better off last night, after spending several hours working on a building site.

His mother found him temporary work with a construction gang. They want him to work every Saturday, though the pay is low.

Ball joined a team of casual workers to help lift things at a condo which is going up close to my own.

He is not used to manual work, and looked tired when he joined us at carer R’s ya dong stand about 10pm.

Earlier, I had dropped in to see him. He had just arrived home, and was about to take a shower.

It was to be another hour before he graced us with his presence. A diva needs to prepare herself.

Showering can take Ball an hour; dressing, and applying face moisturiser and so on another 30 minutes.

His audience – carer R, regular customer Na and I – waited, and waited.

By the time he arrived, we were asking aloud: ‘Where’s Ball?’

I had turned up at the ya dong stand two hours earlier. Three or four customers were there, but no Ball.

‘He is working on a building site nearby...he’ll be here later,’ said carer R, who knows everything about our movements.

So, we hung out for Ball... the shining diva of our tattered ya dong stage.

He is just 19, so is the youngest by far. That alone makes him special.

However, with his small body and features as fine as those of a porcelain doll, he also looks different from the average man on the street.

Carer R likens him to a likay folk dancer (watch a likay performer in action via YouTube, here).

‘The lead actor is putting on his fancy dress and his make-up,’ he jokes.

Regular customer Na goes further: he likens him to a little prince (ลูกคุณหนู, or look khun noo), which one Thai-English dictionary defines entertainingly as ‘His Majesty the Baby/King Baby’.

According to Na, Ball’s appearance or demeanour is similar to that of the pampered offspring of rich parents...the type who have hired help to lift heavy objects for them.

It’s beyond their ken to exert themselves physically in any shape or form, as they are just not used to it.

‘I don’t think a lifting job on a building site suits you...tomorrow, I will take you to look for work somewhere else,’ Na told Ball after his belated arrival.

‘An air-con installation company is interested in hiring me as a driver. I will take us places, and you can install the machines,’ suggested Na.

Ball is unusual, in that wrapped inside this body with a beautiful, china-doll exterior is an ordinary, rough-as-guts teen. He denies he behaves like a spoilt child.

It’s just his sensitive looks, like the petals of a rose which is about to burst into bloom.

Last night, Ball held the stage for almost two hours – the most talkative I have seen my young friend in the two months I have known him.

He talked about his girl conquests, including one youngster with Korean-style looks, who met his younger brother first but then decided she preferred Ball instead.

The lads took the girl home – and then took turns with her in bed.

Neither wore protection.

Ball picked up an infection in his member. The result is regular discharges of something unpleasant. Ms Korea, it turns out, was experienced in the sack.

‘You better take something for that...it could get worse,’ suggested Na.

Ball, however, wants to tough it out. ‘It will heal naturally,’ he insists.

That was just last year.

Mum criticised Ball for stealing his younger brother’s girlfriend. Kae, his plain-spoken elder sister, told Ball bluntly he was a cad.

I enjoyed Master Ball’s company. He looked happy, so I felt no need to boost his spirits by offering a neck rub.

He feels guilty about his girlfriend, Jay, who works at a supermarket while Ball himself drinks the nights away, and sleeps late the next day.

‘I started work at the Macro department store, and met her on the first day – how fateful was that?’

‘She accuses me of living off her earnings. She sits up every night waiting for me to get home, and wants to talk. However, I am tired, have drunk too much, and want sleep.

'We fight almost every night. One night I threw a clothes iron at her. It hit the fridge; Mum has yet to forgive me for denting her fridge.

‘This morning I woke to found a note which Jay had left for me on my bed.

‘She’s now had enough, and has asked me to wait until the end of the month. She wants to find somewhere else to live,’ said Ball.

Ball claims he wants to be single again, but I am not sure is he is ready to let her go. We shall see.

Carer R steps in; Hold me tight!

Ball was in need of a massage...so I massaged him.

I haven’t touched my young friend in ages, and it felt good.

Lately we have grown apart, after his mother and her partner asked me to find work for members of his family.

I contacted my employer on their behalf. But after I presented them with the details, they lost interest.

I was annoyed when Ball failed to take up the offer. I felt even angrier after his brother and brother-in-law lost also interest in the idea, when I contacted my company a second time at their request.

I dropped in to carer R’s stand on Sunday night, but barely spoke to Ball. When I visited again last night, I was just as aloof.

Carer R, who knows me well, knew I was upset with Ball and his family.

Towards the end of the night, he asked me what was wrong.

Ball, who had noticed I was ‘not the same’, turned to me.

‘You are with friends. You can tell us your stories,’ he said.

‘You have done nothing wrong,’ I told him quickly.

I forgave Ball weeks ago for spurning my attempts to find him work, and didn’t want to dwell on that, so told him about another matter concerning my family overseas which was worrying me.

Ball listened patiently, and asked questions.

‘So there’s nothing about your life here which is upsetting you?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ I said, half-heartedly.

Carer R, who was listening, chipped in.

‘Actually, there is something, Ball...’ he said. ‘Your family has been using the farang to find work. They asked him to recommend family members for jobs, which was inappropriate,' he added.

‘You should apply yourself. If an employer likes you, he will hire you. If not, you try somewhere else. You don’t try to take shortcuts by asking people to perform favours. It’s just wrong,’ he said.

Carer R told Ball about how his mother and her partner, baleful Lort, had asked me to find work for family members in addition to himself. None were interested, even after I contacted my company repeatedly on their behalf.

The story surprised Ball, who knew few of the details. He apologised.

‘I fight with Lort virtually daily. Don’t listen to a word he says,’ said Ball.

I admired carer R. Days had passed since we last spoke about the job search business. But as my friend, he wanted to say something.

After we cleared the air, I started to relax. Ball was still sore after a recent football game.

I massaged my young friend’s shoulders, legs, and anywhere else he ached, as he and R chatted away, and pointed to the parts of his body which needed work.

Ball looked at my ageing man’s hands, at least twice the size of his own.

I looked at his tiny hands, as fragile as those of a child.

Ball and I are lucky to have our mutual friend, carer R. He knew we were drifting apart, so stepped in to fix the problem.

Ball is just 19. We can forgive his lapses.

‘I am here for you, and you are here for me - when you remember,’ I thought, as I inhaled the scent of Ball’s hair and clothes.

I hugged my young friend. He felt wonderful; he always does.