Loy Krathong, stripped down

Maiyuu and I floated a romantic krathong (banana leaf boat) to mark Loy Krathong Day, but we did it a little differently from the rest.

As we get older, or spend longer together (I am not sure which), we have started marking festivals such as Loy Krathong in the most minimalist, pain-free style we can muster.

Last year, we shunned the crowds on the Chao Phraya River banks, where many Thais go to float a krathong, for the simplicity of home.

Maiyuu bought two krathongs, and we floated them in the bathtub instead.

Isn't that too basic to be called a Loy Krathong celebration, I hear you ask?

A little more effort is involved, dear reader. We light candles and incense sticks on the top, hold them to our heads and make a small prayer.

Only then do set them afloat.

Where the prayer thing is concerned, I follow Maiyuu’s lead, as I don’t want to look gauche.

Last night Maiyuu bought two krathongs, but instead of running the bath, as we did last year, we opted for an even simpler solution: we filled a black washing tub instead, stuck it in the bath, and floated our krathongs in the tub.

‘I can’t be bothered running the bath,’ said Maiyuu.

I agreed, as it was already after midnight by the time we decided to observe the ceremony.

As he charged the tub with water, I watched a live broadcast on TV of loy krathong festivities elsewhere in the country.

The Chiang Mai celebrations - or should I say, the young men and women parading about town in traditional Lanna dress – looked great.

I was taking an eyefull of handsome students from a Chiang Mai university, holding a banner aloft as they wandered about bare-chested, when Maiyuu told me it was time we did our thing.

‘Okay,’ said Maiyuu, summoning me into the bathroom.

He lit the candles on my float, and asked me to hold it while he did his business.

He lit his own, and knelt on the floor.

Maiyuu held the float to his head, said a silent prayer, and set the thing afloat in the tub.

I followed his example.

I don’t know what he said in his little prayer, but mine was in the nature of a New Year wish:

‘Stop causing your boyfriend grief, and try to make his life happy in the year ahead.’

 Here's last year's Loy Krathong post.

Soggy smalls drama

where the undies hang

A pair of underwear is causing a commotion at Ball’s place.

Ball’s cousin Nam, who lives with Ball’s family, hung out the washing the other day from a rickety wooden veranda on the top level of their two-storey place.

Among the washing was a pair of her knickers.

The people who live opposite took offence. Whenever they looked up, they caught an eyeful of Nam’s soggy smalls.

Underwear is regarded as a dirty, lower-body thing. Yet here it was, dangling above their heads, regarded as the loftiest part of the body.

Ball’s family home is in a slum, where nothing goes unnoticed.

For many Thais, the underwear omission may have passed unremarked.

But for the ignorant types who live opposite – suspicious souls who believe the sight of Nam's smalls could be a bad omen – it was too big an opportunity to pass up.

Why not pick a fight with the neighbours?

Ball says the people opposite are strict about their religious beliefs.

I believe they are mere trouble-makers, and can't stand the sight of them.

Just as they had intended, their silly complaint about Nam’s knickers had everyone in a twist.

Ball's family does not want trouble with the neighbours. Their complaint set off a small domestic crisis.

Ball’s mother reprimanded Nam.

‘I have told you to keep them indoors, but you won’t listen,’ she said.

Ball’s elder sister Kae also weighed in.

Nam, 14, a cheerful girl who does not let much worry her, took the criticism in her stride.

'I forgot,' she said.

Nothing was said to the neighbours, but the underwear was quickly removed from the overhead line.

The man opposite, a thick-set type aged in his 30s, opens his place as a type of makeshift karaoke bar when he is not inspecting his neighbour's washing.

He sells booze, and trades until late. Slum folk – mainly wastrels from the place next to his, who do not work, and trade in drugs - gather there nightly, get drunk, and make noise.

Noise from the karaoke place, and the narrow slum alleyway outside, enters Ball's place freely.

However, the wooden doors of his family home are mercifully thick. If the noise gets too bad, we can close the doors to block it out.

By the next day when I visited, the underwear drama was still going.

‘They just go on and on about it, and won’t let it pass,’ Ball told me.

Nam was spread out on the floor doing her homework.

When she is not in class, she spends most of her time chatting on the phone or playing Facebook, where she has almost 3,000 fans.

Next time, she’ll know better.

One day, however, I might have to deal to the neighbours.

Since they made their complaint, Ball and I have stopped buying our liquor supplies from them.

We used to buy half-bottles of whisky from them, but now take our custom elsewhere.

Once, Ball could just extend his arm across the alleyway when he wanted a bottle. Now, we have to walk out to the main road to buy the brown stuff.

Still, I don’t mind. His neighbours don’t deserve us.

Police visit the karaoke man often, as he has a history of trouble with the men in khaki.

‘I would like to complain about the noise, as they have no licence to open that place or sell booze. We are in a residential area,’ I told Ball.

Residential area? Actually, we are packed in like sardines.

I doubt the folk who live there are used to asserting their rights. They just put up with things.

‘Just let them be...you get used to noise when you live in a slum,’ Ball said.

Law 'n' order special

The company which employs security guards at my condo has paid out on Maiyu’s stolen bike, after admitting its staff were negligent.

A gang of three entered the precinct of our condo a month ago and stole Maiyuu’s bike.

The theft took place right under the noses of two security guards, who waved the thieves through.

The company has paid us B8000, which is B2000 short of the price I paid for it 18 months ago.

A portion of that money will be drawn from the pay of the two lax security guards, who were too busy chatting to notice that one of the thieves was cycling past on Maiyuu’s bike.

Security cameras caught the guards chatting to each other, oblivious to what was going on. They also captured clear images of the thieves, though we have yet to hear anything from police about whether they have caught them.

The head of the security company gave Maiyuu a wounded look when Maiyuu went to pick up the bicycle payment, as if he expected he would pay some of it back in sympathy.

Forget about it, mate. Next time, employ guards who know how to do their jobs.
-

Speaking of law and order, the theft case involving Ball’s younger brother Beer has finally wrapped up in court.

Several months ago, Mum entered a business venture with Kung, a forlorn, oily little man who lives in her slum neighbourhood.

Police had caught him once before, stealing petrol from his boss and selling it cheaply to petrol stations. But this did not deter Kung from approaching Mum with a proposal that she help him do it again.

Mum bought a pick-up truck, and Kung hired it from her to carry out his furtive night-time business venture. He hired Mr B as his helper. They travelled far and wide picking up petrol from dubious sources, and selling it to petrol stations which did not mind receiving stolen property.

Barely a month after they had started, police stopped the pair and asked to search the truck. They impounded the vehicle, and arrested Kung and Mr B.

The court convicted Mr B, and sentenced him to jail for 18 months, suspended owing to his age - just 17 - and the fact that this is his first offence.

The court fined Kung B5,000, which is a light penalty, given his track record. The truck is still with the police.

-
Ton, the local wastrel who likes to send me threats by SMS, hasn’t forgotten me.

When he is feeling in need of attention, he will still whip off an SMS, warning me to look out for strange men in the night who want to bump me on the head.

He has also turned up at this condo, looking for his former girlfriend, who, since leaving Ton, now sees farang C, a friend of mine.

My connection to this saga is tenuous: I know farang C and Ton's former girlfriend, and Ton knows me. He calls or sends me unpleasant SMS messages when no one else will listen.

I no longer worry about Ton’s threats. A day after threatening to do me harm, he will call me with a request that I pass on this or that message to his former girlfriend via farang C.

He talks to me normally, as if nothing has happened.

Ton has a screw lose. We can but humour these people, as they humour us.

Shower adventure

A team of builders is into the second week of making repairs to our bathroom.

They are replacing the bath, putting down new tiles, and repairing the lighting.

The builders who put the bath in originally failed to seal it properly. Water seeped under the bath, where it gathered in a fetid pool.

Finally it started leaching into the place below us. The tenants below complained, which alerted condo management to the fact that something was wrong.

The workers turn up about 9am and stay until 5pm. They do their work professionally, cleaning up every night before they leave. They also do their best to contain noise and disruption while they are here.

However, having four or five builders in our place invades our privacy. If we do anything in the main room, such as taking a meal, we are on full view. The builders pass regularly between the bathroom and the front door.

Maiyuu spends most of his days asleep, as he recovers from a head cold. I take shelter in my bedroom, where at least I can close my door against intrusive staring.

We have been unable to use the shower for the past week. In its absence, we have been forced to use public showers in the condo administration building, which also houses a gym and a pool.

Last night Maiyuu decided it was time for a shower, his first in a couple of days. I take three or four a day, there or at work.

I put some toiletries and a towel in a shoulder bag. Maiyuu prepared a bag of his own, and we headed off.

It was fun embarking on an adventure with Maiyuu. We do so little outside home together.

The showers were empty, as the gym is rarely used. The pool is under repair, and has been for months.

We took showers simultaneously, though in different cubicles. I finished first, and waited for Maiyuu.

‘This is our first time doing anything together since you came to the airport to pick me up more than a month ago,’ I told him.

He did not reply.

I wonder if Maiyuu realises how much simpler, and more enjoyable, or lives together would be if he made more of an effort.

No matter.

We travelled down in the lift. I handed him my shower bag.

‘I’m going to see Ball and his family. Have a good night,’ I said.

Speaking my mind

I paid a visit to the noisy builders and spoke my mind.

They stated before 8am yesterday, which I thought was too much.

Plumes of dust filled the air around my place as the construction crew working on the site of a condo nearby took pneumatic drills to a driveway laid only months before.

It's a common enough sight: one team of Thai or Burmese builders, hired on the cheap, does a sloppy job.

The next team hired to fix their work must dig (or drill) it up and start again.

Most of the men and women on site look Burmese. I asked to speak to the head guy.

A woman wearing a protective scarf over her face pointed me towards a tallish man standing in a makeshift shelter about 20m from the scene of the action.

As I approached, I watched his eyes. He looked nervous.

'What are you doing, starting before 8am? Rents around here are expensive. Some people are still asleep,' I said. 'The noise has been going for hours...it's hard to think.'

I threatened to call the police or the council if he didn't smarten up his act.

'They wouldn't dare come,' he said.

'I don't care. I will do it,'I said in an angry moment.

'I promise we will go no later than 5pm,' he said.

We had to shout to make ourselves heard.

I asked his name, told him mine, and shook his hand.

He looked delighted to get a farang handshake, and gave me a broad smile.

Shortly before 5pm, I went back a second time, and spoke to someone who could have been the architect.

'The drilling job will take another two or three days...but we will start later in the morning, to cause you less bother,' he said.