31 March

Today I received an email from my dad. He'd been trying to renew his car insurance and had come against some Thai-style efficiency. I have copied his story below.

The car insurance was due. I went to Viriyah Company to pay it. Khun Sriratana had painted flowers on her fingernails this time. She said,
“Your car tax is due next week.”
I remembered last year. The Thai civil service is always the same. You go and you wait. Thais don’t mind waiting. I’ve known of Thais who missed a bus and just sat down and waited 24 hours for the next one. Last year I waited two and a half hours at the Department of Transport Licensing Office. I don’t mind waiting. It’s just that, usually, I would rather be waiting somewhere else.
So I said, “Ah….”
“We could do it for you.”
“Ah!”
“But there is a charge.”
“How much?”
“50 baht.”
This is 91 pence at today’s exchange rate. I know Thais who will spend 10,000 baht to change the shape of their noses in order “to improve the quality of their lives”. 91 pence seems a reasonable price to pay to improve the quality of two and a half hours.
“Okay”.
She checked her records.
“Your car is now 8 years old.”
“Right?”
“Before they’ll give you a license this time, the car has to be completely checked.”
I remembered seeing cars being checked last year. The checks were very thorough indeed. Mechanics and body. Not like UK MOTs. That’s why you don’t see many breakdowns in Thailand.
“We can do it for you.”
“How much?”
“150 baht (£2.50).”
“Yes please. I’ll have to get a taxi.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’ll need the car.”
“Why do we need your car?”
“To have it checked.”
She smiled. I know that smile. It means, you are a foreigner and I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I will sit here smiling until either you say something sensible or go away.
At this point foreigners sometimes start shouting with frustration. This produces a bigger smile, which can develop into a titter of laughter. In a government department this can spread (discreetly) around the large open-plan room in which they work. So, patiently I said,
“If I don’t leave you my car, you cannot check it.”
Western logic cannot go much further than this.
“Why do we need to check your car?”
(Western logic had not gone far enough).
“You don’t understand.”
I didn’t.
“You give us the money to have your car checked. We take your logbook to the Department of Transport. They give us the license.”
“But if I pay to have it checked, it should be checked.”
“Why?
It was Khun Sriratana’s turn not to understand.
"You want the new license. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but the law says that an 8 year old car must be checked.”
“Yes, of course it does. For safety reasons.”
I sat there with the patient, uncomprehending look which, on a foreigner means, “your country is crazy (i.e. not like mine).”
“If you want your car to be checked, you must drive it to the Department of Transport yourself. They will check it and, if they find anything wrong, they will not give you a license. Safety is very important.”
“When should I come back for my log book?”
“I’ll phone you.”
Thoughtfully, I drove away.

29 March
Today I went to teach at Thong Lor again. It was a fearfully hot day – over 40 degrees so I was glad when I reached my air conditioned classroom. I taught for an hour and then returned to Huay Kwang for lunch.

I went to Pi Baby’s café. Mario the Italian with there chatting to the Essex Boy, Mango and Pi Baby.

Mario was looking glum.

“I put the money in the washing machine,” he said. “And the washing machine, she won’t work so I waste my money…”

“He kisses like a cow,” Mango was telling Pi Baby. “I don’t think he’ll make a good boyfriend…”

“Work,” the Essex Boy said. “I’ve always thought it was over rated…”

“Could I have Gang Kew Wan?” I said and sat down.

In the afternoon, I went to the motor show at Bang Na with my brother, my Harrow student and her family.

My brother in pensive mood

26 March
Today I woke up at 7.30 to find Mina in a good mood, refreshed after the invigorating argument of last night.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Very,” I said. “Did you wake up at five o’clock?”

“Yes, of course. I always wake up at five.”

“Well, why didn’t you get up then?”

“Because I didn’t feel to get up. I felt lazy.”

With that, she jumped up and proceeded to wipe the floor. She then set up the ironing board and ironed all my clothes while I ate breakfast.

I watched her suspiciously as I sipped my tea. Such good behaviour was usually a prelude to one of her arguments.

She finished the last shirt, unplugged the iron and then turned to me with a satisfied air.

“You haven’t always been truthful to me,” she began and I held up a hand.

“Later,” I said. “I’m late for work and I have a full day ahead. Save it for tomorrow or the weekend.”

Her small dark face reddened with rage. “There!” she burst out. “There you go again! Always telling me that you have to go and work hard to support me while I stay here at home and do nothing! How do you thing I feel, huh? You’re always trying to make me feel bad! Well, listen…”

“I have to go,” I said and drained the last of the tea from my cup. “I have to go and work hard so I will have enough money to feed you. It’s not easy, you know…”

“Have a good day,” she told me and kissed me goodbye. “Enjoy your class and don’t have sex with your students na.”

25 March
Today I got up early and went to teach at my student at Thong Lor. My class was at 10am and I arrived at 9.45. The weather was very hot so I got myself a cold drink and then sat and relaxed in the cool air conditioned classroom.

10 o’clock came but still no student. There was no lesson to prepare as it was an English conversation class and there was already a book in front of me. This kind of work is probably the easiest in the world. I got out my mobile phone and tried out a new racing game that I had downloaded free off the internet.

10.15. Still no student. I went to reception to see if there was any news. There was nobody at the desk. I returned to my air conditioned classroom and continued with my game. I won two races and unlocked the next level which meant that I could now upgrade my Ford Mustang to a Lamborghini.

10.30. I returned to reception. Nong Sar was there. She smiled placidly at me as I approached.

“Any news of my student?” I asked.

“No, Mr Ben. I will ring her and find out where she is.”

She picked up the phone and dialed a number.

“Hello, Khun Sawataporn? This is Thong Lor Language School na. Are you coming to school today? No? Are you coming tomorrow? Ok, bye then.”

She put down the phone and smiled at me.

“She says that she got up late. She will be here tomorrow. Strange that she didn’t bother to let us know that she wasn’t coming. Thai people are lazy, no? Nevermind, Mr Ben. You will be paid for the full two hours anyway…”

I left the school smiling to myself. I had been paid 700 baht for spending 30 minutes playing a game on my mobile phone. Thailand can be a wonderfully relaxing place to work.

In the evening, Mina started talking about the good old days when we would argue all the time about everything.

“It’s all your fault!” she told me. “Before, you were jowchew…there was lots to argue about. I remember how when I went back to Pattani and you were with that girl…”

As the memories came flooding back, she became more and more angry. She started to shout, accuse me of all sorts of things. Finally, she threw her mobile phone across the room in a rage, punched the wardrobe door a few times (I have no idea what it had done to annoy her, being pretty sure that it had never gone off with another girl!) and then settled down.

“I’m tired now,” she said. “I’m going to take a shower and then I want to sleep. I'm going to get up at five tomorrow.”

24 March
I have just come back from spending four days on Koh Samet with my family. It was a fantastic four days of sea, sun, sand and good food. Despite seven of us going, we didn’t argue once. We are all sunburnt and feel very good for it. No doubt my Thai students will be shocked though. “Mr Ben, you are so dark! Not nice na…”

19 March
Today I taught at the school in Thong Lor. My “class” consisted of one girl. She was 23 years old, tall, white skinned and beautiful. Her spoken English was very good and her written English was very bad. Last time I’d taught her, she’d told me that she didn’t want to go to Australia because she was afraid of Europe. It was “too big”.

Today, we were learning simple past tense.

“What did you do yesterday?” I asked.

She fiddled with her pencil.

“What did I do yesterday?” she repeated.

“Yes,” I said pleasantly. “What did you do yesterday?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Erm, well. Because we are practicing the past tense.”

And I pointed to the examples in the open book in front of her.

“Oh. Yesterday I wake up and then I do something secret….”


Next was describing people.

“What does your mother look like?” I asked.

“What does my mother look like?” she repeated.

“Yes, what does your mother look like?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because…we are practicing describing people.”

And I pointed to the examples in the open book in front of her.

“Oh…I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Chinese Viagra

12 March
Today I taught Amy, my 8 year old student from Harrow. Her mother was delighted to see me.

“My husband has just come back from London,” she smiled and handed me a plate of biscuits. “From Marks and Spencers,” she said.

Amy waited until her mother had left the room and then beckoned me closer.

“I have something to tell you,” she said mysteriously.

“What?” I asked, rather predictably.

“Some of the pupils at Harrow in the sixth form are girlfriend and boyfriend!” she confided.

“Wow, really! That’s so naughty!” I said, feeling rather like Nong Oom. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Urgh! No way! Boys are so yucky. I like to have a girlfriend.”

After the class, I went to eat dinner at Pi Baby’s café. I met a Taiwanese-American from New York called Bruce.

“Do you live here?” I asked. “Or are you just on holiday?”

“No, I live here. We have a business here. We buy jeans and sell them on the internet to folks back home.”

“How is it?” I asked.

“Yeah, pretty good. Been here doing it for just over a year now. It’s pretty cool because you get to work from home but you gotta be self disciplined though. Where you from?”

“England.”

“Oh ok. Which part?”

“Cornwall. Do you know it?”

“Yeah, been there once. Pretty wild huh?”

He took a foil packet out of his pocket and tried to stuff it into his bag. He caught me looking and laughed a little guiltily.

“Chinese Viagra,” he explained and showed it to me. “It’s for a friend of mine!” he added quickly. “Just come back from a business trip to China and bought a load of the stuff.”

He thrust the packet at me. “Here, you want it? Still got a tablet left. It’s not magic. It won’t give you unlimited hard-ons but it, you know, really gets the job done. It’ll like give you one long helleva rocket that’ll impress her! It’s for, you know, when you wanna show a girl just how tough you are! Take it about an hour before cos it’s not instant.”

10 March
Today is another day off. I woke up early and did my washing. It was a very hot morning and at about 10.30 it started to rain. I lunched at Pi Baby’s Café. Mario was there.

“I hate Thai TV,” he told me. “It is stupid, childish. Only four channels in my room. All Thai stations. It is too much.”

9 March
I met Nong Oom at Pi Baby’s Cafe. She has changed her fingernails again. They are now black. Her face was flushed with triumph and excitement.

“Pi Ben! Pi Ben! Do you remember that Swedish man I met on the skytrain? Well, I met him today for lunch at Fuji. Very hi-so. Nong Oom eat lots and lots of Japanese food and cost over two thousand baht. Daniel he pay for everything! I told you he very rich na! I ask him if he has car Benz and he said yes! I think I am going to ask him for a salary. I have already told him that I am virgin…”

The Essex Boy glanced up from his table. His face was amused. “You a virgin?” he asked in Thai. He stabbed a finger at his broad chest “Nee pen virgin doi.”

Nong Oom laughed delightedly. “Oooh! You speak Thai! Narak mark mark! Which country are you from, please?”

“England,” said the Essex Boy.

“England? Why do you sound different from Pi Ben then? Pi Ben is from England.”

“Well,” said the Essex Boy modestly. “I’m from Essex so my accent is different from Ben’s. It’s like I’m from Isan and he’s from Bangkok, see?”

“I prefer American to England,” said Nong Oom politely. “I think American more narak and clever than England.”

The Essex Boy put down his beer and looked at her.

“Ever been to America?” he asked.

“No,” said Nong Oom. “Just Taiwan.”

“Well, I have,” said the Essex Boy in Thai. “Been to Texas, Kansas, worked in North Carolina, been to New York – dirty place, that was! Stayed in Boston, went to California, Washington, Virginia…seen a fair bit of the place. And you know what? Course you get nice Americans but most of em are ignorant, up-their-own-arses fuckers. They think that, you know, the United States of America is this wonderful thing and everyone wants to be one of them. Well, guess what? They don’t!”

“Oh,” said Nong Oom. She looked at him for a while, her face serious. Then she turned to me and lowered her voice.

“Is he rich, Pi Ben?” she asked.

“Yes, very!” I said. “He has two Mercedes and three pairs of Diesel trainers back in England.”

Nong Oom’s mouth dropped open and her eyes opened wide. “Wow!” she said. “Naruk mark mark!”

“The Americans like to go on about their sport,” said the Essex Boy, warming to his theme. “But, I ask you, who plays American football outside the States? Whereas we invented soccer…and, I mean…” He waved a hand at his beer. “Everyone plays it. Who else plays baseball, ice hockey?”

“Mr Essex Boy,” said Nong Oom, respectfully. “Do you like to shoot a gun?”

“Do I like to shoot a gun?” The Essex Boy sipped thoughtfully at his beer. “Do I like to shoot a gun? Depends who I’m talking to…”

“I like to shoot a gun!” said Nong Oom eagerly. “Very fun! Would you like to shoot a gun with me sometime? Can I have your telephone number please? Then I can phone you when I next go to shoot.”

Mario the Italian came in. His face was glum.

“It’s no good,” he said. “I have to go out of this soi. The school holiday is driving me mad. There is nothing to do and my room is very hot. Nothing on TV, just four Thai channels. I don’t understand. And if I leave this soi then I know I must spend money… Trust me, you go out of this soi and puffff! Maybe one thousand baht just gone…”

He sat down heavily. “I mean, my room. It cost me three thousand baht a month. It’s cheap but small and just a bed. I want hot water so I say to them, “Can I have hot water?” And they say it will cost me two hundred a month. That is crazy! Too expensive. So I buy my own water heater for two thousand baht and pay them four hundred baht to install…I think it is better. Save money…”


Later this evening, Nong Oom called me.

“Mr Essex Boy is very naruk,” she said. “And he is 34 so he is old and must be very respectable. I don’t think he will try to have sex with me. He is my old uncle. I will take him to the disco and pub and he will take care of me. He thinks I am clever and smart girl because I am Korea style and I know about the people from different countries.”

“That Nong Oom is a bit of a nutcase, isn’t she?” said the Essex Boy to me when I went to eat dinner. “And she’s as thick as two short planks. But her ass is alright. Basically, the only thing you can do with a girl like that is bend her over and give her one…”

“My water heater is broken,” said Mario glumly. “And the people at my apartment will not fix it because they say it is my responsibility. They are just being childish because I buy it myself. So I have to take it to Bang Na. Very far.”

6 March
Today, I got up early and went to teach Nong Luke at Thong Lor. I spent a pleasant hour playing educational games with him and then he wanted to play NitroStreet Racing on my mobile phone. While he was battling it out with other illegal racers on a virtual Tokyo highway, I went downstairs to use the toilet. When I came out, his mother handed me six hundred baht.

“Thank you very much but I only taught one hour today,” I said.

She looked surprised and glanced at her watch.

“Oh, more than one and an half hour, Mr Ben!” she protested.

“No, just one hour. But Luke wanted to play a game on my mobile phone afterwards so I let him.” And I tried to hand back two hundred baht.

She laughed at my honesty. “Oh ok no problem! You keep it! Thank you very much.”

One of my students told me yesterday that her sister in law had managed to find a new maid after the last one had walked out on her. I asked how much the new maid got.

“Five thousand a month,” said my student. “She will get one day off per month.”

“Five thousand,” I said. “That’s eighty pounds in English money! And only one day off per month! What time does she start work?”

“6am.”

“And what time does she finish?”

“About 6pm. It is a big house so lots to do.”

So a Thai maid gets the equivalent of twenty pounds a week for working 12 hour days, seven days a week. It can’t be a very pleasant job either. In the Thai soaps, maids always seem to get treated very badly by their rich employers. In real life, this is often the case too.

I remember, ten years ago, standing in a social security office in England and overhearing two men in front of me saying that it wasn’t worth working for less than two hundred pounds a week. I wonder what they would have thought if they’d been here….

1 March

I woke up early and went to teach at Thong Lor. I returned to Huay Kwang for lunch and ate at Pi Baby’s Café.

“How are your family?” she asked me.

“They’re fine thanks,” I said. “My brother is coming out here in two weeks.”

Pi Baby pricked up her ears.

“Is he handsome? Is his skin white?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes, he is very white because now it is the middle of winter in Europe.”

“Ah, I will give him my younger sister!” she said. “She is fat and very white all over. Beautiful. Just a like a movie star!”

“You’re very kind,” I said. “I will tell him that a nice fat white girl is waiting here for him.”

“I am saving her for a good man,” said Pi Baby happily. “I will not let Mr Essex Boy have her because he is too jow chew and not rich enough.”

In the evening, I helped a 24 year girl called Nong Omm complete a work application. Nong Omm described herself as “Korean style” which meant that she put on lots of white face powder, dyed her hair reddish brown and wore blue contact lenses.

“Thai men very crazy Korean style,” she told me. “I have lots of rich boyfriends who give me money. I will buy new Motorola Razr V8 (a fashion accessory which is also a fairly average mobile phone) and Nong Omm like verrrry much! Very hi-so! My boyfriend he have two Benz. One of my kik he luke krung – half Holland, half Thailand. He is television presenter. He is verrry jealous! Always ring me. “Where are you?” Nong Omm have to say “At my house!” because I am with my kik!”

She laughed happily and then her face grew serious. “But Nong Omm not like because he make me lie and it bad to lie. So I think maybe just be friends with him and not kik. But if not kik then he not give me money…hmmm.”

I picked up her application form. She was applying to work for Sony. She jabbed a finger at it. Her fingernails were painted red with white spots like the back of a ladybird

“See,” she said proudly. “My friend he already write for me. Verrrry clever, my friend. Verrrry good English, don’t you think?”

I looked at what he had written. It was very “Korean style”.

I want to work for Sony because I have good mental hygiene and trendy attitude demeaning viscous idea for lifestyle...