Letter from Issaan - Part 6

[phoenix]

Meanwhile, back at the farm.

Get there after dark, about 7.00. The addition to the house, a 4x10 meter lean-to deck with roof and open sides, was ready, and looked good. Eventually the plan was to use more of the older part of the main house for separate sleeping rooms, and the new part for open living area. By Issaan terms it is now a large house. It was mentioned casually that one of the builders was still waiting for an 8000 baht final payment, and getting a bit impatient. I think that was a hint. I thought about that, and thought it was reasonable for me to contribute. By assisting Nok to do her beauty course, taking her travelling, and using the family car, I indirectly prevented her from earning in any other ways, so it was fair enough to contribute. And I’d rather contribute to solid real things like a house extension, than soft money for drinking, gambling etc. While I was pondering all this, I remembered that I pay 22K bt each month for my rent in BKK. Everything is relative.

Maybe the best time of the day, half an hour before dark. The women are preparing a feast, mum (eg grandma) is looking after the 1 yr old girl. The cooking area is not roofed, but open, which allows me to take photo’s in the fading light. Everyone squats while working, chopping veg, transferring the Kauw Niaou to the big serving basket. While I carefully step around the various pots and plastic bags, suddenly underneath me a violent flapping noise. The fish in the bag at my feet, bought at the market two hrs ago, is still alive and objecting to the indignancy of being confined in a waterless plastic bag, so short before his execution.

In the background, tinkling bells announce the arrival home of the 6 waterbuffaloes, and the cattle About ten of all ages, being herded home by Poh (pronounced the same way as “Pa” Cartwright from “Bonanza”. I suppose that dates me)

The animals all know where they are going, a bamboo compound with a thatched roof. A neighbour arrives, a approx 40 yr old woman, who immediately joins the squatting women, and starts peeling garlic ready for the pounder. It is getting too dark for the camera, so I take out the laptop with the little keyboard, to record my observations. Meh (Mother= grandma) sits crossed legged, providing a seat for Song, the toddler. Occasionally song gets up, waddles around, scrounges some food where she can, and returns to her throne.

I occasionally try another shot on my Sony, but the flash cuts in because of the poor light. Nok admonishes me to save my pix till later, “at 7.00 some friends will arrive to wish good luck for New Year.” (and I suspect, having been invited to join the feast). New Years Day, no party was had, since Nok and I were elsewhere, and all the family’s cash had been spent on house additions. But now “the fleet is in” and a proper NY party can be celebrated.

Damn, it is almost too dark to see my keyboard. Brother Tom comes back with a borrowed second charcoal stove, because the feast needs more cooking stations than the usual one. Someone else is dispatched to collect another box of Leo beer, because the four bottles left will not be enough to serve the multitudes. Loaves ( oh, I suppose sticky rice), fishes and wine from the wedding of Kanaah.

I suppose, in all societies, celebrations involve food and wine.

It is now totally dark. I blind-read my keyboard, and give up. A newly arrived man sits next to me, shares a beer, and I show him my campix from last weeks celebrations at a friends house ( Meh (mother) was a bit drunk, at 1.00 pm, dressed in a bright red tracksuit, capped by a green knitted hat. (the knit of hat the Dutch wear when they go ice skating Mai pen lai, a good time was had by all.)

Guests arrive, I’ll continue later/

Well, I didn't. Good party, good food, good company, but nothing extraordinary to report.

Blessing by local 'elder', who was a monk for 27 years, then came back and married his childhood sweetheart.

A multitude of mutual string tying 'for good luck in New Year. The men drink beer and posture, the older women gossip and chew betelnut, the younger ones cook, serve and clean-up.

Once again, Nok is jokingly questioned by some of the local man about what is the attraction in Older Falang men, are they really bigger?

Amazing how direct these people can be. If I compare it to a falang Christmas dinner, I don't think the 'uncle would ask his 28 yr old niece such a direct question in public. But here it is again cause for uprorious laughter.

Tomorrow, last letter, Back to BKK

[phoenix]

rp6

[Guest]

good reading, I can almost smell the seasonings being crushed and the cooking.

 

what was her reply (are they really bigger) or does modisty prevent you from telling us? ( and did all the thai guys blush)

 

 

 

[phoenix]

Her reply to me was "Falang man bigger" (I'm not sure whether she meant me specifically or falang men in general :-))

But my thai wsn't good enough to understand what she said to him. Besides, they were speaking Lao. It was accompaniewd by a big grin from her to me, and a grin on his face, whatever that might mean.

 

I found the willingness to ask these questions in public quite astounding, but maybe soem beer or Laolao helped lower the inhibitions.

[Guest]

Once again, Nok is jokingly questioned by some of the local man about what is the attraction in Older Falang men, are they really bigger?

---

 

That is a common question there especially among women.

[Encore]

>That is a common question there especially among women.<

 

The obvious answer is "Suck it and see!"

[Guest]

Enjoyed reading Phoenix, thanks for sharing.

 

Thaipan

[phoenix]

2006 repost