Casanova Of Thailand

Neighbor's child

Neighbor's child

Preparing jackfruit and mangos

Preparing jackfruit and mangos

I’m sitting in my room in Bangkok, wishing I was at the farm, trying to come up with a blog post. It’s usually so easy for me to write a little tale of Thailand but—watch out, more excuses—with the heat and the fact that I’m writing a new manuscript that is consuming my thoughts; well, it’s not easy.

Many times my muse—I think of her as a beautiful maiden that demands attention—won’t release me to do other things. Oh, I get up and wander around for a few minutes but then it’s back to the keyboard. Will this be the break-through novel? I know I’m a good writer—I didn’t say great—but without the support of beta readers, editors and marketing skills I wonder.

Yes, I’m on my writer’s rollercoaster and I happened to be on the downhill slope of late. But then I think about my life in Thailand.

Double headed pineapple

Double headed pineapple

In the past I would ride my motorcycle and try to get lost by taking whatever turn I come to. No matter where you go in Thailand you’re certain to end up in a small farming village. Some of the people have never been close to a white man—especially one who can talk to them a little.

I always look for a Sala- shaded platform- where the older women congregate, to announce myself. One thing I’ve learned is one never approaches the pretty young girls first. They are usually unmarried and it is impolite to converse with them without permission or chaperon.

When the older ladies and men who come around realize that I speak some form of ‘funny’ Thai, then the fun begins. Children come out of hiding and are allowed to test their skills on the crazy foreigner. The truth is in the big cities many Thais think of foreigners as walking banks with money that may fall from their pockets at any time. But in the country I’ve rarely been asked for anything. I often buy the kids a treat just to watch their faces light up.

I have to be careful not to admire thing too much because it will be offered to me—for free. Luckily I can’t carry much on my bike.

It is therapeutic for me to be the center of attention where people only want to learn more about me and my ways. Many of my family back in North Carolina were farmers and the Thai men and women enjoy hearing about farm life in the States. I’m not sure they believe me when I tell them the number of animals and land that my family farmed at one time. I’m sure they’re still talking about the impossibility of it. The people offer me food and drink— many times beer and Thai whiskey and I politely refuse because I’m on a motorcycle and my skills do not allow riding under the influence. I do eat with them. Perhaps another post of some of the things they eat, but it’s mostly fruits.

Once I am known as a good person the maidens are allowed to come near. I think there is a hope I might pick one for a wife—even though I have told the older people I am happily married. Two wives—more fodder for another post—is not unheard of. Thai women, even at a young age, exude an exotic charm that still makes my heart beat faster. And the way they glide along when they walk, oh my. I sure it has to do with the flip-flops they wear.

Now, I’m not a DOM—dirty old man, but I am a man. My wife says I am fresh bait to a school of fish—me fresh bait? That’s probably one of the big reasons I like it here. Even as an old man I’m kind of special. Back in the States I’m just another in the horde of old folks, lol. And foreign women are viewed as special too.

It really is an ego boost in the depressed life of a writer. I hope you enjoyed another short walk with a writer in Thailand.

Just Too Hot to Tango

Talking to my Bananas

Talking to my Bananas

Storks Enjoying The Heat

Storks Enjoying The Heat

I know I should be posting more. I’ve read the rule book but whoever wrote it didn’t live in Thailand.

Don’t get me wrong; I love living here—I mean who wouldn’t want to live in an exotic place where people are friendly, smile all the time and think you are special.

But when it is Spring time in the States and the rest of the Northern Hemisphere it is boiling in Thailand. I’m in Bangkok for a few weeks to take care of some automotive business—getting tags for my two motorcycles and work on some flood repairs.

I go out in the very early morning to watch the birds and lizards preparing for the heat, take a few pictures and then rush back to the house before the world remembers that it’s supposed to be hot. The heat has come a bit early this year and I hope that’s not a precursor to more flooding. The truth is it is extremely dry now but most anyone I talk to is worried about the floods. I’m sure it’s a form of PTSD. People in this area have lived all their lives here only seeing floods on TV and then the waters came in and wouldn’t leave. Many still blame the Mayor of Bangkok and his minion for making a lake of our area. Enough about the flood of 2011.

We were enjoying life on the farm getting ready to sell our tapioca crop and then the price dropped. Since tapioca can grow for years we are waiting for the price to rise. Some of our neighbors think it’s crazy not to grab what one can no matter the price. That’s the saga of poor farmers—they have to sell no matter the price because they need the money.

During the day I see very few people because it’s around 96 degrees inside the house and we only turn our A/C on later in the afternoon. It’s so hot I can’t turn my computer on for fear of damage. That’s my excuse for not writing a post or attending to my email—you really wouldn’t believe how many unread emails I have.

To be honest I think it’s more than that. I am slowly becoming Thai. We endure the heat and let it soak into our bones and it prepares us for life. This intolerable heat only last for a month or two and then the rains coming to allow us to carry on.

I’ve even stopped sweating like a foreigner. I would draw a crowd when I went outside to work in the garden or weld a fence or just move around. I would sweat like I had just taken a bath and forgot to dry off. This was amusing to the Thai’s. I would tell them I was okay and not to worry because all white folks sweat like this. They took me at my word because there weren’t any other foreigners to compare with.

Pineapple flower at the farm.

Now I do perspire a little more than the average Thai but not in buckets and my neighbors don’t come around just to laugh at me—well they do but usually for other reasons—I meant to say: laugh with me.

I do want to post more but when I’m writing a novel or even a short story about rednecks in space I have to watch the thermometer. I’ve been thinking about writing long- hand and that’s probably what I’ll do. I’ve enjoyed my embarrassment of posting my little story about space flight and I want to thank all of you who read it and especially you who commented! I will continue to give you a taste of my different styles of writing and promise to make you cry at least once and laugh or at least smile several times.