Talking to the Dead Guys-More Village Life Tales-part 5

[Central Scrutinizer]

Talking to the Dead Guys

More Village Life Tales

(-Part 5)

June 22, 2000

Well the walls were shakin', the ground was quakin', my mind was aching, and I found my interest was peaked. Movies in the village huh? How is this little feat accomplished? The movie theater in Surin is closed. Although a new one was opened in a mall recently, the selections were older, and everything is in Thai. So, although I go with the family to see them, I don't understand much being said, and basically just enjoy watching the Thai peoples reactions to the Hollywood blockbusters, and the special effects wizardry. Or take a nap.

I ask my lass how these village movies are possible. "With truck!" she explains succinctly. I do my Gary Coleman impersonation and bark, "Whatchu talkin' bout woman?" He was the little black kid.... in the old tv sitcom....you know...ahh...ummmm..."Different Folks" or something like that. Ehhhhhhhh, never mind! "And where are these truck movies at darling?" I ask uncomprehending. "In village!" she replies with a grin. I slap my hands over my eyes, and drag the palms of my hands slowly down my face. Mumbling sweet obscenities in English, ones I doubt she knows, I gaze at her through my fingers. With my hands on my lips, I smile at her, and sigh and whisper, "I know they're in the village darling. I can hear them. But where in the village?" "At party at Sai's house!" she laughs in explanation. "We go see Sai at 8 o'clock. She wants to see you, and give you her rice wine to drink. She good lady, and she speak good English! She wants to talk with you in English." (actually she said "She talk you Inglees." but I understood perfectly.)

Well, now we're getting somewhere. I ask her about the rice wine bit and she explains Sai makes her own rice wine, and wishes me to drink some with her, (wino I am not, but I'll try anything alcoholic once), and practice her English on me. She has not met me, but heard good things about this falang, someone's spreading lies it seems, and wants me to come to her party. "What for party?" I ask my lass. "For Papa, for brother." She tells me. Hmmmm. "Okay, let's go to this party, and I'd love to meet Sai and taste her rice wine, and you can show me this movie truck you're talking about. Okay darling?" I tell her with a chuckle. "Kup koon Kaaaaa darling." she drawls to me with a big smile. "No problem. I jes love a pahhty!" I say in my best Bostonian accent.

A couple hours later we all shower, and get ready for said pahhty. I give myself a close shave, apply a thick layer of musk scented Mennen's speed stick deodorant to my pits, slap on some Obsession for men after shave, and gargle with cool, peppermint flavored, Scope mouthwash.

Smelling like a French whore, but at least not like a smelly, sweaty falang, I don a freshly washed and pressed pair of navy blue dockers, with cuffs and pleats, a new, bright white, Adidas polo shirt, with black trim on sleeve edge and collar, and slip into my freshly polished Sperry top siders deck shoes. A sharp dressed, yet casual man, and hom dee too! I place my chrome and faux gold Timex indiglo cheapo watch on my left wrist, (I am left handed, and always in my right mind! The watch being a gift from my daughter, damned thing will not die, and I feel obligated to wear it until it does, or I do! I love her, and she bought it at a time when she really couldn't afford to.) and slip on my gold Irish Claddah ring on my right hand, heart pointing inwards, to my own taken heart. (The only gold I wear, and a Father's Day gift from my kids a few years back. My treasure!) I'm ready to pahhty with the clansmen and women.

My lass loooooks mahvelouuuuuus! Dripping with gold, gold watch, a few gold necklaces, gold braclet, gold rings, (one a Claddah), and smelling lightly of the Opium perfume I'd given her recently. Her hair is brushed to a coal black sheen, and cascades down her back to her waist, like an ebony river of flowing silk. Her nails, fingers and toes, polished with a dark plum shaded shiny lacquer, are perfect, and her Maybelline make-up applied with exquisite care. Her lips are glossed the exact shade of her lacquered nails. A sleeveless white silk blouse sets off her golden, honey tinted, arms, and a pair of black silk slacks show her gorgeous bum to distinct advantage. She looks good enough to eat! (Maybe later though.)

Daughter is freshly scrubbed clean, and wearing some new clothing of her choice, and her Star Wars watch. From a small gold necklace I'd bought for her last birthday, dangles a duplicate, yet girlishly smaller, gold Irish Claddah ring of her own. A present of love from Papa. (Me you dolts!) On her feet a new pair of light blue Teva sandals, with black soles, and a small dark blue flower pattern on the lighter blue straps. Her falang influenced light brown hair is cut in the Thai school girl style, and combed with precision from her brow, still moist from her ab nam (shower). She looks a perfect little doll with her newly grown in front teeth.

(Sorry guys! I've always wanted to try this! Just a little experiment in descriptive writing. I've read so many books where the author describes everyone's clothing and accessories down to the nth degree, and thought I'd pull a bit of a rag on the style. Personally I find it boring, and believe it is mostly for snob appeal, and women readers. As you've noticed hopefully!)

It's time to go! We lock the house in case the Rice Paddy Mafia decides to strip the place in our absence. What they'll find is no gold, 'cause my lady is wearing damn near every piece she owns! Thai women sure do love this shit! I myself eschew jewelry, feeling it too ostentatious and effeminate. I never saw John Wayne with anything on but a watch and a ring!

We stroll on down the "Highway" until we reach a small dirt side soi, on which can be seen numerous villagers, milling about in the un-streetlighted gloom, in front of a large wood and concrete house festooned in twinkling Christmas lights. We walk down the dirt paved soi, avoiding a puddle or two, and a few mangy mutts, drawn, I believe, to the scent of my musk scented under arm deodorant. "Screw you mangy flea bag!" I mutter to one smitten pup, who won't stop trying to sniff my ass.

Music, and what sounds like the soundtrack to a movie, booms and echoes off the surrounding homes and palm trees at around twenty kazillion decibels. Jumping blue Jesus is this loud! Although I can't see where the sound is coming from. I spy Sis sitting in front of the house where the party resides, talking and laughing with a few other ladies. Probably regaling them with more Mafia horror tales. My lady and look sow bring me over and I walk over to where Sis is. We grab ourselves some chairs and join the gaggle of lasses.

I'm introduced around to the ladies present, old mama this one, and auntie that one, and sister her, and Mama her, and finally meet Sai, who comes out the door to greet us. Wow! I'm a bit flustered.

She's a damn fine looking woman. Her dark wavy hair is cut shoulder length, she has a wonderful smile, a sexy voice, and deep, black, strong almond eyes, with a gleam of vitality and mischievousness to them. She's a looker without the flash. Nice figure, and about early to mid thirties. I feel a spark of sexual excitement tingle in my hand, up my arm, and down to my monster's lair as she touches me upon being introduced. AND she spoke fair English with that husky, sexy voice! We chat a while, and then my lass says we should go say hello to Sai's Papa and brother, and the monks. Sai tells me to come back when we're done, as she would like my opinion on her latest batch of homemade rice wine. I tell her I'd be delighted to try her freshly brewed love potion, and promised to come right back.

My lady and I went around the side of the house and, under a large open wood pole structure covered in thatch, there sat a dozen monks on a raised wooden plank dias behind a small altar covered with food, drinks, beers, flowers, incense, Buddha statues, and other such trappings. Placed on the altar are two gilt framed pictures of Thai men. At first I thought them to be pictures of venerated holy men. Wrong!

My lass tells me I have to say hello to Sai's Papa and brother. "Okay, where are they?" I ask her, looking about for them. "There." she nods her head toward the altar and monks behind. "Which ones?" I whisper to her. "There!" she nods again. I now realize she is talking about the pictures! "We can say sawasdee to them okay?" she tells me in a serious tone. "Uh, darling. Is this a funeral?" I ask in my ignorance. "No, not funeral, but party for Sai's Papa and brother. Them dead long time. Sai save baht long time and have party now for them. We say sawasdee them, and sawasdee all monks too. Okay?" she prods me with a couple of wiggles of her eyebrows.      

"Well darling, why don't you do first so I can see what I should do. I don't want to lose face here, or make a mistake and insult anyone. Especially with all these darn monks eyeballing me! Kapeesh (Understand) gorgeous?" I mutter to her, smilng as the monks all watch us talking quietly. She seems to realize finally that I don't know what is expected of me, and agrees and says, "Okay, do same same me." The lady sometimes thinks I know more than I do, and forgets I'm still learning this stuff.

She walks up to the first portrait and wai's the guy, and says a "Sawasdee kaa Khun Somchai" or some other such name, and appears to pray a bit, then steps to the next one and does the same in front of it.

Screwing up my courage, and noticing all the monks directly behind the altar are watching my every move, I walk to the first picture and do a credible imitation of her. I say a Sawasdee krup whilst wai-ing the guys picture and offer a little silent prayer myself. Something like, "Hey dude! How's it goin'? Sucks being dead huh? Nice party your sis/daughter is throwin' ya! They got movies, and booze, and food, and everything here! Hey, ya mind if I have a sip of your beer? Them fried chicken pieces look yummy too! Hope you enjoy them. Hope Buddha is treating you good, and maybe you can come back as a rich guy next time! Later guys." Amen!

I know. I'm a sick man. At times like these I have a hard time not laughing, as this stupid shit always seems to run through my twisted brain. As I've said before, I'm not into organized religion, and have my own strange beliefs. Although my ideas on this are closer to the truth, I think, than a lot of the big churches supposed infallible ideas and teachings. Actually Buddhism follows quite a bit of my own thinking in this area of life and after-life.

My latest brainstorm for my own funeral (I've had others. Ideas, not funerals you dope!) is to have a big penis shaped casket built for myself. On my tombstone it'll read: Here lies the biggest prick in the world! Kinda makes ya feel a little bit immortal, maybe being able to get a chuckle out of a live person, while laying there in the ground.

(to be continued)

Later fellow spirits,

Cent

(The Central Scrutinizer)

next up definitely: Drinking Homemade Rice Wine, and Watching the Village Movies!

You can contact Cent at:

C-BERG-X@webtv.net

-----------------------------

Copyright © 2000. Author Michael P. Seaberg. All rights reserved.  

[Central Scrutinizer]

another