It's a hard knock life

Ball wants to quit his job as a security guard in Silom.

‘I am working a 12-hour day as a security guard for the same wage I could earn if I was working in a shop – or delivering pizza,’ he says.

On Friday, Ball’s first pay packet came out. He made just B6500 for a month’s work.

He is making just B300 a day. His mother pays him a third of that, B100 a day, to meet his work expenses.

‘I spend B50 of that just getting to work on a motorcycle taxi, as my younger brother seldom gets up in time to take me.

'One serving of food in Silom costs B30. If I do not have time to eat before I go to work, then I am able to eat only one meal all day.

‘By the time 7pm comes, I am hungry, but have no choice but to walk home, as my brother often fails to pick me up on the family motorbike,’ he says.

‘I am being asked to work too long, for too little. I just sit there all day...I want to do more,’ he said.

In the next couple of days, Ball and his girlfriend Jay will visit pizza companies close to home to apply for work as pizza delivery workers.

Ball lost his motorcycle driver’s licence some time ago, when he was caught for failing to wear a helmet. He might have to renew it if he wants to work in this field.

He has yet to tell his Mum about his plan to quit his job as a security guard. I have offered to break the word to her on his behalf.

Ball’s girlfriend jay has also quit her job at a supermarket. She hopes to find work at a public relations firm, in a job vacated by a friend; or if that fails, delivering pizza.

‘I quit school at 15, while Jay quit at 17, with a higher qualification,’ says Ball. ‘She should find it easier to find work.’

I asked Ball what he would do in a month’s time if the pizza delivery job also failed to work out; and to consider what he would do at the age of 30, or 40, when his body is slowing down, and he might need a job which is more stable.

‘I haven’t thought about my future - it’s such a long way off. But you are right, none of these jobs represent secure work,’ he said.

‘In the long term, I would like a job where I can raise a family and look after my mother,’ he said.

To that end, Mr Ball says he might set his sights on driving a taxi, where he can work times that suit him, and put in as many hours as he likes.

‘I am still a kid, so that’s some time off. For now, I want to try something different, so will look for work in pizza delivery,’ he said.

Finding my way home

I have made little or no contact with Ball’s family in three days, which shall please the cynics who say I should take a step back from my relationship with this slum family to see what happens.

Why? The idea appears to be that it will bring out the way members of the family ‘really’ feel towards me, or me towards them.

Mum asked me to her own mother’s place for a birthday meal on Saturday. ‘You must come!’ she had told me excitedly.

In the end, I didn't go. About 4pm on Saturday, I called her after hearing nothing from them all day.

‘We’re waiting for my daughter; then we will go together. That means we won’t leave until evening,’ she said apologetically.

I am not free at that hour, as she well knows.

They went to granny’s birthday bash without me, which might have been a good thing, as they stayed overnight.

Mum called late yesterday, as they were heading back. It had been a busy 24 hours.

‘You have been so quiet – no calls!’ she said.

Well, what do you expect? No one enjoys being treated like a mere hanger-on.

I did not call last night after work, and nor have I called this morning to see what her son is doing.

I am spending more time at home with the boyfriend. We chat about nothing in particular, watch the odd movie together, catch up on sleep.

Maiyuu cooks as fervently as ever, including a batch of milk chocolate ice-cream, served on his own strawberry sauce; and a salmon , mashed potato and coleslaw dish.

‘Have you called your son to say good night?’ he asked before bed.

Maiyuu suspects our present close phase won’t last. I’m only spending more time with him because Ball’s family has let me down.

Where do these phases lead, when we try to cut ourselves off from people who normally provide us with so much emotional sustenance?

In the absence of anything better, we probably end up back right where we started. Or as guitarist David Gilmour puts it, in Smile:

I'll make my getaway
Time on my own
Search for a better way
To find my way home
To your smile

-
Smile
(Gilmour / Samson)

Would this do
To make it all right
While sleep has taken you
Where I'm out of sight

I'll make my getaway
Time on my own
Search for a better way
To find my way home
To your smile

Wasting days and days
On this night
Always down and up
Half the night

Hopeless to reminisce
Through the dark hours
We'll only sacrifice
What time will allow us
You're sighing... sighing

All alone
Though you're right here
Now it's time to go
From your sad stare

Make my getaway
Time on my own
Needing a better way
To find my way home
To your smile

Nails off, moody girlfriend, granny's birthday adventure

Ball put out one hand at a time, as his girlfriend trimmed his nails with a pair of clippers.

For the past week I had been observing Ball’s lengthening nails, and wondering why he did nothing about them. Was he turning fem? He already uses make-up, for goodness sake.

No. He was just waiting for his girlfriend to do her duty and cut them for him.

‘Can’t you do it yourself?’ I asked, slightly annoyed.

‘Yes, but I want her to do it,’ he said.

Men...hopeless!

-
A day later, back in the living room...

Ball staggered down the stairs, bleary-eyed, having just risen from sleep. He headed straight for Nong Fresh, one of two toddlers in the household, for a long kiss.

He waring a pair of cotton shorts. I would rather he wore a shirt, as he looks alarmingly small and vulnerable when he is partially clothed.

I threw a towel at him. He left it on the floor.

-
Moody girlfriend Jay followed about 15 minutes later. She sat on the couch with her boyfriend, stroked his legs, spoke some impenetrable language which only lovers understand.

Mum and I were sitting on the floor just metres away.

‘Jay wants to quit work,’ Mum said.

What?

Jay works at a supermarket, but is tired of dealing with problems there.

Mum seemed resigned to the change, but I would not let it go so easily.

‘She should wait until she finds a new job before quitting. Do you want her hanging around the house all day, doing nothing?' I asked.

'As it is, she contributed nothing towards her upkeep last month. Soon, she will have no income at all, and you will be left to pick up the burden,’ I said.

Mum tried changing the subject. She’s no good at confrontation. Being an outspoken farang, I thrive on it.

I turned to question Jay, who did not hear our exchange.

‘Is this true, you want to quit?’

She refused to answer.

‘If an adult asks you a question, you should respond!’ I told her.

Silence, and I was able to prise few details from Ball either.

‘You’re hopeless...no one can talk to you,’ I told Jay, leaving the room in disgust.

-
Ball looks oblivious when I criticise him before his mother, and even appears to like it.

He chats away to his girlfriend, happy for me to carry on.

It's as if he knows the adults of the household are busy taking care of business, so he doesn't need to bother, even when the topic of conversation concerns him.

Ball, and even his silly girlfriend, appear to enjoy getting direction from us.

After telling off girlfiend Jay, I bought two beers. I poured a glass for Ball. He looked hesitant at first, but soon warmed to the fact that I was there.

I care for him, even though I criticise.

‘What time did you go to bed?’

‘When will you let me to take you to see a doctor about your sinus problem?’

He answered my questions patiently, until I was sick of asking.

-
Today we are visiting Ball’s maternal grandmother’s place in Onnut, Bangkok to help her celebrate her birthday.

Ball's Mum invited me, and Granny wants me to go too, apparently.

‘I want to make her something special to eat. It’s hard for an old woman to look after herself,’ said Mum.

Blog turns 4, author's world gets smaller, Joycey makes it big again

This blog’s fourth birthday fell on Thursday. Sorry, I forgot. This is a catch-up pat on the back for my readers.

When I started this blog four years ago, I was living with boyfriend Maiyuu, of course, but he was seldom around.

In his absence I had started seeing a 20-year-old student. We stayed together more than 12 months.

I started the blog partly to record my thoughts about what was happening in my relationship with that fellow, but also as a place to put stories I had written about previous adventures, most of them based at a small shop on the Thon Buri side of Bangkok.

I have stopped seeing the university student. Mum’s shop, as it became known, barely figures in my life any more.

Bangkok is a huge city, but my world appears to be getting smaller. These days, I spend most of my time with the boyfriend, and my family in the slums nearby.

My readers don’t seem to mind; perhaps you are used to me by now. Readership has fallen from its level of 12 months ago, but is more stable. This blog pulls 500-600 unique reader visits a day. If repeat visits are included, the total exceeds 1,000.

For me, the best part of this blog is interaction with readers.

No one enjoys writing in a vacuum, and lately readers have rewarded with me with lively feedback on posts about my life with Mr Ball and his family near my home. Some posts attract up to 30 responses.

Thank you for your support. You are terrific!

As is tradition at this time of year, I want to name the blog which has given me most enjoyment over the previous 12 months.

It’s not a Thai blog; I have hardly any of them left on my blog roll, as they fail to do anything for me.

The author is a journalist with the International Herald Tribune in Hong Kong. The blog is called Joyceyland, named after its author, Joyce Lau. That’s her in the picture by the helicopter, with her man, Marc the Metrosexual.

Joyce has a way with the written word. She can make public matters, such as an upcoming election in Hong Kong, or even her observations of a flight over the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, which she visited recently, seem personal.

Hardly any writers can do that. When I read her, I am excited: I want to know what she’s thinking, and what she’ll say next.

Even fewer writers manage that feat.

Find Joycey here (she's now set it to friends only - sorry).

Poor hearing, seaside tempter, naughty aircon guy

My mind is playing tricks. When I am talking to Ball and his family on the phone, sometimes I think I have heard something, when apparently I haven’t.

‘It’s late. Don’t come around tonight. You can see me on a day off,’ said Ball told me when we spoke on the phone.

His day off? That’s three days away. Actually, we are seldom able to meet at the tail end of the week, as we are both busy. But I didn’t like the casual way he said it, like he was shrugging me off.

I called him back five minutes later. ‘Why did you say you didn’t want any contact until the end of the week?’I asked. I made a joke of it, but I wanted to know.

‘I didn’t say anything about that...you misheard,’ he said.

This happens a bit. Maiyuu might tell me something, and I am sure he meant XYZ. But when I bring it up later, he claims never to have said it.

Maybe it’s all a dream, and I don’t really know any of these people. Or, more likely, I will wake up 30 years from now in a rocking chair, and fail to remember anything that has happened in my life previously.

My grandmother went out like that...unaware of her surroundings, or the identity even of her own children. Is it a peaceful way to go? Maybe the memories start falling off one by one, like flowers off a tree in autumn. I am in no hurry to find out.

-
I have a similar problem understanding Ball’s mother. I ask a direct question, as is my farang way, but seldom get a direct answer.

Instead, I get a long, disjointed monologue. My job is to sift the various bits of information, attempt to make sense of the whole thing, and come up with a cogent response by the time she has finished.

‘Seaside...Ball wants to go...his family on that side is keen to invite him...everyone will go, including my soldier son...you know, with the trouble on the streets, it is hard for a soldier to get leave...we have a van...everything included, a bit more than 2000 baht...hard to find a van we could hire...’

This was Mum's monologue on the phone, after Ball asked me if I intended to accompany his family on a visit to the seaside next week.

I am working on the day they intend to travel, so the answer is probably no.
However, I will offer to put some money towards the trip.

The van will cost B2000 to hire for the two-three hour journey to Chon Buri, where the family will spend the day at the beach. Earlier, they considered spending the night, but decided against when they realised how much it would cost.

‘How much would you like me to pay?’ I asked Ball’s mother.

‘Up to you,’ she said, in what sounded like an icy tone. But I may have imagined it, like so many other things these days.

I will probably give B700. That’s money I could have spent on something more lasting than a day-trip to the seaside, but never mind. If it helps get them out of their cramped slum home and into the fresh air and sun for a day, then why not.

PS: Four young men have turned up to clean our air conditioning units. One, who knows he is good looking, gave me The Look, to see if I would reciprocate. I am sure he is used to getting admiring glances, and wants to know if I find him as handsome as everyone else.

Oh, alright, if you must. When the boyfriend is not watching, I shall return The Look, so the air con guy knows that he has an admirer in me, too.