Wednesday, December 14, 2011
DREAMS, REALITY AND NIGHTMARES
For many who come to the nether regions of Thailand, it all starts as a dream come true. There is either a girlfriend or wife half their age, beer, sun and leisure time in abundance. It is what most of us dream of in our daily grind in the west. The dream and magic will soon wear off and the reality will settle in. To some it will become a nightmare, they can not leave.
Enter any western bar in Issan and you will hear non stop complaints from many of the expat community. Too hot, too many bugs, the Thais can't get anything right, life is hell with out this or that. These are men who are trapped, they have no life in their home countries to return to. Their children have grown up, ex wives don't care to see them again. All that awaits is a meager existence on a tiny pension or investments, a small flat or appartment. Living in a cold and friendless country. All will say they have lives back home, but they know their friends and their old lives have gone and there is nothing to return to. Many will turn to the bottle to fill in their days and to shorten the number they have left.
We people of the west have spent our lives setting goals, working to achieve things and it has all come to nothing in the end. We can not just live in the moment, we live for tomorrow. The waiting to die with no reason for existence is a nightmare to many. Some rural expats turn to small scale farming or businesses to fill the void in their daily lives. This keeps them occupied, but as it is not their main income, the need to succeed is not there. It is a hobbies, for some it is all they need, for others it will never be enough.
Over the years I have met a few westerners that had made the switch from goal orientated to the Thai way of just living day by day. They seldom go to western bars or seek westerners out, they just live and are content with their lot These people are few and far between. Mores the petty I can not claim to have made the jump yet. I am always on the look out for something new to try. Losing our 9 to 5 mentality is a lot harder then most would think. When you wake each morning and there is nothing that needs done and no where you need to be, your day has little meaning.
2011 A BAD YEAR FOR RUBBER AND A POOR YEAR FOR ME.
At the start of this year we had plans, we were going to be kicking goals. The money would finally be flowing in, at a rate that would allow us to expand, finish the house and live the good life all round. Holidays for the kids to the beach another car etc. Little did I know that the weather and the financial markets would conspire to throw a monkey wrench in.
As I wrote in an earlier post, the rains came and did they come You can't tap rubber in the rain and it just didn't stop. By the end of the wet season a great part of Thailand was under water, even Bangkok. The wettest year in 40 or 50 years I believe. Our rubber out put was well down on what we had planned, then when the rains stopped the Greeks were found to be broke. This set off a chain of events, next we know not only are the Greeks broke, but most of the western world. As the rubber began to flow the commodity prices [ rubber ] began to fall. It dropped over $2 US dollars a kilo. Things were not good, my wife understood what was happening in the world, but her family just could not understand that the world outside was what governed our lives.
Somethings would have to go and cut backs were needed to get us through the trees dorment season. The biggest single luxury expense is the car. We could trade down to a smaller sedan and cut the payments in half. When I said this, the mother in-law began to cry, the father in-law wanted to know why I hated them. Here is what makes western thought different than that of rural Thais. To me better to lose the big car and have food, milk for the kids. To the in-laws it would be such a loss of face in the village, they would be disgraced in the eyes of all. Arguments began, the wife was caught in the middle. The Thai way is the father is head of the household and he should make the decisions.. His first try was that I gave him more trees and he would make the payments. A child's or perhaps an international bankers logic. I give him money from trees that will not be producing and he will pay with the non existence money. After that it went down hill, mostly ideas of living on sticky rice, frogs and bugs. When I had had enough I said, you want to keep the car, it's yours. You would have thought he had won a million dollar lottery, smiles all round, he couldn't wait to tell all that the big black SUV was now his, not mine. To make the payment his Government salary and the sons Government salary will be used. Between them they earn just enough to cover the payments and will live on sticky rice and frogs. We still have use of the car, as it is really the household car. Nothing will change, I will still ride my motorbike and drive the pickup truck and we will use the car when we go away. Next year if the rubber prices go up we will buy a small sedan for taking the kids to school and shopping and the father in-law will live on the bread line to make the payments, I will of cause help out if we have the money. Think this just goes to show, what's important to some is not that important to others.
I believe in the earlier post on buying the car. The father in-law had pledged to pay his salary toward the repayments, if I allowed him to tap 400 trees and keep the money. Never a penny was paid, when the arguments started over the car, I of course said if the father in-law had paid what he was meant to, there would not have been a problem. Again we see the child like way of seeing things, he honestly believes he is head of the household and not only should the car have been put in his name, but all the rubber money should go to him to, dispense as he sees fit. Some may think this is a western rip off, but it is the way it is done here. The brother in-law, who works as our head tapper was living with his wife's family before. They are a big time rubber and palm oil family in Krabi. Now he had to work 6 days a week and received no wages. His father in-law would feed them and give him a few dollars [ Baht] every now and then.
It is often said if you marry a Thai girl the closest you want to live to her family is in another country. It maybe true for many and it may explain why so many Thai husbands pack up and leave their wives and kids. It is an extended family system and the father is head of the family. Times are changing, but in the small rural areas the ways of the rest of the world are still a long way away.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Panic and the earthquake that never was
I said in the previous post, this has been the wettest wet season in 30 years and it is still raining
About 2 weeks ago during torrential rains from the tale end of a typhoon, the village was in panic, everyone was preparing to evacuate, we were all going to be swollowed in into the ground. The wife comes to me to say that we have to pack the car to get out fast, if the warning sirens go off. Now I am confused, first I ask what warning sirens and a warning for what. Seems the sub district Governor has swished on or put in sirens in the local public announcement system. For those who don't know, Thailand has a PA system in each village. This is mostly used by the local headman to address the village on local issues, normally at about 6 in the morning.
The father in-law and brother in-law, both work for the Government. they are now dressed in their best uniforms and are off to an emergency meeting with the Sub District Governor and village heads. Many of the villagers have moved their cars to what they perceive to be safer places and the rest have packed up to go. I am more confused than ever. The wife, who by now is in full panic mode, keeps saying we should get the kids and go, I keep asking where are we supposed to evacuate to and from what. The only answer I get, is everyone knows that there is a thing in the ground that causes earthquakes.
Now it begins to dawn on me what it is all about. There is a small fault, that runs through the 3 villages on our road. It is no pacific ring of fire, just some type of geological fault where the mountains meet the flat lands, or something like that.
The locals have know about it for years and never cared.. We do not have earth tremors and such, but with the coming of electricity and television, the village has seen news of earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan, New Zealand and China. So we are doomed to a major earthquake. I ask the wife, who has predicted the earthquake. as I know that the science is far from exact, on earthquake predictions. She tells me it is on the radio and the Government is telling people to prepare to evacuate the area. We have only 2 radio stations and they are single man operations, not BBC or CNN affiliates.
The brother in-law returns, he not only has a nice uniform, but is also the emergency first response fireman and rescue chief. His news is bleak, the bridges are under water or damaged by the floods. There is no way out. Word spreads fast and the villagers are now out in the street waiting for the father in-law to return from the emergency meeting, as he will tell them what to do. The other brother in-law and many of the villagers with cars have already fled to places unknown in the jungle. The wife, kids and mother in-law are in the car ready to go on the old mans return. Our pick up truck is ready to take the neighbors. She is telling me to get in, I say I am not going anywhere, you are all off your heads, there is no earthquake coming, As is normal she says I don't understand, but the army will come and get me and anyone who is left here later. I look at her and say how is the army going to get here when there is no bridges.
Father in-law returns, everyone is waiting, word has spread that the evacuation siren has gone of in the last village and the army is on the way. The father in-law asks me if I can check on the inter-net to get the latest reports. There are no latest reports, there are no warnings at all, either on the net or the TV. The father in-law is waiting for the sub Governor to tell him what to do, the Sub Governor is waiting for someone up the chain to tell him. That someone is probably running around trying to find out what the hell is happening.
The rain has stopped and night has fallen, the village is still standing. The panic has subsided. With the wife translating for the father in-law the story of the days events unfolds. Just as in the Orson Welles radio broadcast war of the worlds, a radio broadcast started it all.
The forestry department issued a warning about landslides in the mountains and flash floods.
The 2 local radio stations broadcast the warnings, but mudslides became sink holes and underground rivers were going to collapse the upper soils.
The Sub district Governor hearing the radio warnings put 2 and 2 together and came up with 5. All the rain was going to fill the fault and cause an earthquake. So he sets up the emergency siren system.
The radio stations are told about the sirens and begin to broadcast that the Government has set them up, for the impending earthquake, that will occur from the heavy rains and everyone should prepare to evacuate the area.
The border and forestry soldiers have left there river side camps, which are subject to flash floods and moved into the safer bases near the 3 villages. The army is coming.
Now we have the radio telling everyone that not only is there going to be flooding and some landslides in the mountains, but the Government has put out earthquake warnings and the army is on the move to help out in the evacuation.
Outside of the 3 villages on this dead end road into the jungle no one knew what was happening. A simple phone call in the beginning would have put it all to rest, but asking questions is not the Thai way.
Monday, September 12, 2011
THE RAINS CAME
To a rubber planter rain is money or lack of it. Like most farmers there are only 2 types of rain, too little or too much. To an Australian, even from the wetter state of Victoria, there is not enough rain. Here it is a different story.
Thai new year, Song Kran, around mid April saw the first of the seasons rain. It was a good sign, the trees sprang to life and the rubber flowed. It rained most days for a few hours, not heavy, but good soaking rain, the trees loved it and out put rose. Rubber tappers bought new motorbikes and paid back money borrowed in the dry season. We paid back our fertilizer bill and started some more house improvements. A new front veranda and air conditioning for the kids bedroom. There was even hope of a new Chinese copy Harley for me. Alas this was not to happen.
By August the rains became longer and tapping dropped off. You can not tap rubber in the rain. More and more tapping days were lost and less and less money was made, but tapping continued. The tappers would tap and at the first sign of rain would run around collecting the latex.
The start of September brought the monsoon rains. These are not wet days, but a down pour that stops you driving a car, the sound of thunder and the driving rain on the roof is constant. We have not tapped a tree in 11 days. You can not go out or you may not get back, as bridges and roads turn into rivers.
Last years a tapper and his family ventured out to the plantation, in the hope they could do some tapping. Luckily for them , his mobile phone worked. We received a call. they were stuck in the workers stilt hut, surounded by water. They had no food or drinking water and a rescue mission had to be mounted. they had a one year old baby with them.
To the Thais out here, this is a yearly occurrence, they know no other way. In our house the Mother, Father in-law, 2 brothers, their wives and children and 3 of the tappers whose family are not local, settle in. We are lucky as the house is a fair size and we have ducks, chickens and fish. Much food will be prepared and everyone will eat, talk and sleep. The men will drink some. Eating and talking will fill 10 hours of the day, sleeping the rest. That is not to say they eat and talk for 10 hours, no they will eat talk for a few hours, go to sleep for a few hours, then start again.
For a soft white man this is a time that can drive you from a few beers at night into the bottle of whiskey a day. As I write this, I am sipping whiskey and drinking beer. You are stuck, for much of the time with nothing to do and no where to go, often without electricity. No matter how good your Thai or Lao is, you can not have a conversation about world events etc and mine is not good. There you are listening to the rain and thunder, day in day out, lost in your own thoughts.
The brother in-law said one day. You are like a Buddha monk with beer, you can just sit and watch the rain fall on the jungle. Little did he know, that if it wasn't for the mind numbing effect of the booze, I would probably be standing out side screaming at the sky, STOP THE RAIN.
Thai new year, Song Kran, around mid April saw the first of the seasons rain. It was a good sign, the trees sprang to life and the rubber flowed. It rained most days for a few hours, not heavy, but good soaking rain, the trees loved it and out put rose. Rubber tappers bought new motorbikes and paid back money borrowed in the dry season. We paid back our fertilizer bill and started some more house improvements. A new front veranda and air conditioning for the kids bedroom. There was even hope of a new Chinese copy Harley for me. Alas this was not to happen.
By August the rains became longer and tapping dropped off. You can not tap rubber in the rain. More and more tapping days were lost and less and less money was made, but tapping continued. The tappers would tap and at the first sign of rain would run around collecting the latex.
The start of September brought the monsoon rains. These are not wet days, but a down pour that stops you driving a car, the sound of thunder and the driving rain on the roof is constant. We have not tapped a tree in 11 days. You can not go out or you may not get back, as bridges and roads turn into rivers.
Last years a tapper and his family ventured out to the plantation, in the hope they could do some tapping. Luckily for them , his mobile phone worked. We received a call. they were stuck in the workers stilt hut, surounded by water. They had no food or drinking water and a rescue mission had to be mounted. they had a one year old baby with them.
To the Thais out here, this is a yearly occurrence, they know no other way. In our house the Mother, Father in-law, 2 brothers, their wives and children and 3 of the tappers whose family are not local, settle in. We are lucky as the house is a fair size and we have ducks, chickens and fish. Much food will be prepared and everyone will eat, talk and sleep. The men will drink some. Eating and talking will fill 10 hours of the day, sleeping the rest. That is not to say they eat and talk for 10 hours, no they will eat talk for a few hours, go to sleep for a few hours, then start again.
For a soft white man this is a time that can drive you from a few beers at night into the bottle of whiskey a day. As I write this, I am sipping whiskey and drinking beer. You are stuck, for much of the time with nothing to do and no where to go, often without electricity. No matter how good your Thai or Lao is, you can not have a conversation about world events etc and mine is not good. There you are listening to the rain and thunder, day in day out, lost in your own thoughts.
The brother in-law said one day. You are like a Buddha monk with beer, you can just sit and watch the rain fall on the jungle. Little did he know, that if it wasn't for the mind numbing effect of the booze, I would probably be standing out side screaming at the sky, STOP THE RAIN.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
There's good and bad and lots of things to drive you mad
My nearest English speaking neighbor once said to me, it takes a special type of person to live out here. I would not be so kind and would say you need to be a little crazy. If you are not a bit soft in the head when you come, chances are you will end up mad.
The entire concept of western logic is alien here. Aesop's fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper comes to mind, except that in rural Issan it is the Grasshopper that is the role model.
Several years earlier I had tried setting up a small fish farm. Without much success, I must say. The factory had a long trench along the back. This was dug for soil to raise the factory, office etc. In no time at all the rains had filled the trench and we put some cat fish fingerlings in. These fish grow at an incredible rate. Before long everyone is sick of fish and we began to sell them in the village.
When the big monsoon rains came the ponds became deep holes in a small lake and the fish set off down stream. A few lessons were learned. Too many fish in a small area, they just grow so fast and they needed food, which cost. Plus the fact they all made good their escape. Another problem was that the ponds dried out in the dry season.
This year I was to try fish again, armed with what I had learned. A big deep dam was dug. The dam was below some old rice paddy, which acted as a catchment for water run off. In no time at all it was full. Shade cloth was string on poles around the dam, no fish could make a swim for freedom. 500 catfish fingerlings were put in. I had picked 500 as a test number, the dam was big and if I strung some solar lights to attract bugs, there would be little need for extra food.
The fish had hardly settled in to their new home when the Father in-law rolls up with a 1,000 fingerlings and puts them in one of the same ponds we had originally used. Up to him, not my money or problem. Now his fish are doing fine and eating bags of food, just not enough water for them to keep growing.
Mother in-law seeing the fish, comes up with a brilliant plan and without asking anyone goes and buys 5,000 fish. Into another of the old ponds they go. How could you lose, fish grow and you sell them and make lots of money.
Her fish had not been in the pond 24 hours when the big monson rains hit. Bye bye all the fish, just as last time, to the Mekong. My fish in their enclosed big pond are still happily growing fat. I will bet money that the same will happen again next year.
Everyday this lack of forward planing and consequential though, comes up. Last week they filled the 2 wheel tractor with petrol, not diesel. These iron water buffalo are every where, but petrol was handy that would do. Off course it would not start and the tank had to be drained. The Brother in-law has crashed his motor bike twice this month, no brakes. He didn't want to spend 100 Baht to have them fixed, but is happy to fill up his big new Isuzu 7 seat and go for a drive to town. The aunt build a duck farm out back of our house, by the river. 2 doors for the ducks, 600 of them to just walk into the river, but no doors at the back for people to get in. Bills are placed in the car glove box and forgotten about, until the bank or tax man comes a calling. Then it's panic. There have been 3 or 4 young children drown in the area in the last few months, but as I write, the rivers are in flood and you will see small kids playing in raging water. It's all up to fate and Buddha, if you crash your car into a tree, it was meant to happen, not because you were blind drunk.
You really do have to be a touch crazy to live here.
Just as I was about to post this a big bull elephant turns up out front. All the women with young babies are now doing the baby walk under the elephant stomach. think the only luck is if he doesn't fall on you.
The entire concept of western logic is alien here. Aesop's fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper comes to mind, except that in rural Issan it is the Grasshopper that is the role model.
Several years earlier I had tried setting up a small fish farm. Without much success, I must say. The factory had a long trench along the back. This was dug for soil to raise the factory, office etc. In no time at all the rains had filled the trench and we put some cat fish fingerlings in. These fish grow at an incredible rate. Before long everyone is sick of fish and we began to sell them in the village.
When the big monsoon rains came the ponds became deep holes in a small lake and the fish set off down stream. A few lessons were learned. Too many fish in a small area, they just grow so fast and they needed food, which cost. Plus the fact they all made good their escape. Another problem was that the ponds dried out in the dry season.
This year I was to try fish again, armed with what I had learned. A big deep dam was dug. The dam was below some old rice paddy, which acted as a catchment for water run off. In no time at all it was full. Shade cloth was string on poles around the dam, no fish could make a swim for freedom. 500 catfish fingerlings were put in. I had picked 500 as a test number, the dam was big and if I strung some solar lights to attract bugs, there would be little need for extra food.
The fish had hardly settled in to their new home when the Father in-law rolls up with a 1,000 fingerlings and puts them in one of the same ponds we had originally used. Up to him, not my money or problem. Now his fish are doing fine and eating bags of food, just not enough water for them to keep growing.
Mother in-law seeing the fish, comes up with a brilliant plan and without asking anyone goes and buys 5,000 fish. Into another of the old ponds they go. How could you lose, fish grow and you sell them and make lots of money.
Her fish had not been in the pond 24 hours when the big monson rains hit. Bye bye all the fish, just as last time, to the Mekong. My fish in their enclosed big pond are still happily growing fat. I will bet money that the same will happen again next year.
Everyday this lack of forward planing and consequential though, comes up. Last week they filled the 2 wheel tractor with petrol, not diesel. These iron water buffalo are every where, but petrol was handy that would do. Off course it would not start and the tank had to be drained. The Brother in-law has crashed his motor bike twice this month, no brakes. He didn't want to spend 100 Baht to have them fixed, but is happy to fill up his big new Isuzu 7 seat and go for a drive to town. The aunt build a duck farm out back of our house, by the river. 2 doors for the ducks, 600 of them to just walk into the river, but no doors at the back for people to get in. Bills are placed in the car glove box and forgotten about, until the bank or tax man comes a calling. Then it's panic. There have been 3 or 4 young children drown in the area in the last few months, but as I write, the rivers are in flood and you will see small kids playing in raging water. It's all up to fate and Buddha, if you crash your car into a tree, it was meant to happen, not because you were blind drunk.
You really do have to be a touch crazy to live here.
Just as I was about to post this a big bull elephant turns up out front. All the women with young babies are now doing the baby walk under the elephant stomach. think the only luck is if he doesn't fall on you.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
What happened to down time and Losers, Boozers, Drifters and Dreamers
Inter net is down, again, it's raining, again, kids are playing in their cousins house, wife , aunt and mother in-law, plus some cousins are down the street, eating som tam. I have no books left to read and so am at a lost as to how to fill my day . I could of course crack a bottle, but much too early for that. So I thought I may as well add another instalment to the story. This will really be about nothing, just some observations on life in general.
When I was younger, time seemed different, my father would go to work, come home watch TV with the family. Saturday night out with the work mates to the pub, for a few beers. Sunday was a neighbor time, The men of the street would gather in someones house, garage or if the weather was good, the back yard. They would sit drink and talk. BBQs were more often than not lit and wives and children would attend. That was Australia when it was a lucky country. Later in my life, living in the UK, there was always time to stop for a few pints after work. Life just drifted along.
About 15 years ago, a friend of mine returned to a small village in Yorkshire, after 23 years in Australia. He went to his old local pub for a beer. The first words he heard were, hi Jeff, haven't seen you for awhile, been away. It was the same with the wife in our village. After all those years away, at school in Bangkok and living in Australia, it was like she had never left. I wonder how many of us could return to our home towns and say the same, not many I would bet. Time has stood still in a few places, but these places are disappearing fast.
At first I hadn't noticed that the way of life was changing, it was just me getting older. Now when I look back I see that it was not age, but the way the world had been programmed, by social engineering. There was no longer down time, every hour was accounted for. A get together with the work mates was no longer, coming out for a beer, It had to be planed months in advance. Days off were no longer free time, but had to be used productively.
A friend one day said , that he and his wife were going to travel around South East Asia. They were to start in Singapore, head up through Malaysia, across Thailand and Lao to Vietnam. I said sounds good, how many months do you have off. He looked at me and said, it's a 10 day package tour. Seems you have to cram in more and more in less and less time. Whether in your job or in your life.
Think this can be seen very clearly in the binge drinking culture, which has come to most of our cities. How can you expect people to work longer, work faster and do more. Then go out on a Friday and Saturday night and drink at their fathers pace. When you can get 5 or 6 hours of alcohol down your throat in 2. Governments blame everyone else, but they are the ones that turned up the speed. At least in Australia, there is no time to stop and smell the roses, anymore.
Here is where much of Thailand marches to a different drum. Your local shop keeper is more likely to be asleep in a hammock than stacking shelves. When the locals have down time, which is most of the time, it is spent eating and talking or sleeping. If there was an Olympic sport of sleeping, Thailand would be undisputed champions. I have always found it amazing that, a cousin or visitor , after eating and talking, can lie on a bench with an empty coke bottle as a pillow and be asleep like a baby within minutes. Only wish I could do the same. There are no Saturdays or Sundays, work is done when it needs to be done. If there is a reason for a bit of a party the Lao Khow [ rice whiskey ] is just as likely to start flowing at 6 am as 6 pm. Things are done when the time comes to do them, not by a clock. No one says lazy so and so sleeping at this time of day or look at him drinking at breakfast. They live in the moment, not by some man made concept of the right time and place.
Losers, Boozer, Drifters and Dreamers
Now what sort of westerners find themselves in these forgotten places. The vast majority come first because of wives and girlfriends. For most of them it is something they have to do to keep the wife happy. Their best memories of the place will be boarding the plane home.
The boozers
There are quite allot of ex servicemen, cops, fireman and public servents of one form our other. Mostly yanks and Brits who live a better life on their pensions here, than, they can at home. Of these, most will have an Issan wife and live in a big town or city. They will buy or rent modest homes or apartments. After a life of disciple and routine, they find themselves somewhat a at lost as to what to do with their time. They then settle in to a regular daily cycle, which almost always means beer with the boys each night. Normally they will not be big drinkers, as their pensions don't allow for nightly binges. When I enter a strange farang bar, it is to this table I usually end up . I call these the boozers. Not in a derogatory way. They have done their service, lost most of what they had in a divorce, lasted to get their pensions. Their biggest worry in life is exchange rates. It's just their time to relax and kick back.
The losers
This group are people who have made some money in their home countries. These are the guys who will be talking money, world economics etc, If you ask them what they used to do, they will say things like, I was the owner of a transport company [ owned their own taxi cab]. Had a plumbing construction company,[ a father and son plumbers.] Many more will say they were into real estate and got out before the bubble burst [ Had bought a second house and had to sell when they got divorced ]. All will be doing on line consultancy work and have some vague idea of starting some business in Thailand. They come from all counties and live in houses 10 times bigger than they will ever use. This is to impress their friends, who will never come and visit. Often the homes are in the middle of no where, but near to the wife's village.
These people will more than likely be of the short stay type. After they have moved into their mansions, reality kicks in. They sit in their big homes alone, drinking. Their idea of being Lord of the Manor, soon disappears. They have spent big to impress, but there is no one to impress. They will head back to Pattaya if the money permits, or head home to start again. Some with a small overseas income will simply sit and drink themselves to death. Theses are the real losers of Issan, just too smart for their own good. You will see the relics of their homes, doted over the countryside.
My nearest neighbor, a very sick man, lives with his Thai wife of many years, in a 5 story monolith. He can't climb the stairs and spends his days and nights in a small room on the ground floor, watching football and waiting to die. Last month a Norwegian , 52 years old died in his home. He refused to go in the ambulance on 3 separate occasions, he was diabetic. Died in the night with a bottle of Sam Sung by his side. Further down the road there is a big house with a medieval turret on it. Never have seen anyone ever live there.
They came, they spent and those who could went.
The dreamers
This group has 2 types, those with money and those without. Both have one thing in common, they suspend all belief in reality and commonsense, when they arrive in Thailand. This for some reason seems to inflict Americans more than other nationalities. Maybe due to some belief in US superiority, but more likely a lack of understanding, how the rest of the world really is.
Here I will tell 2 story's , each from one end of the wealth spectrum, hope none of them read this. I am sure anyone who lives in Thailand will have many such tales.
First the poor guy. I get many e mails from people who have watched one of my youtube videos. Most are questions on rubber farming and some about Issan weddings. So Joe citizen from the US writes after having watched my Issan wedding on youtube. His questions and story were simple. While on a 2 week holiday to Thailand he meet, would you believe it, a girl. She is 15 years older than him, I take that to mean he is one fat ugly SOB. He is madly in love and wants to move to Thailand, marry the girl and live, but has very little money. His questions are , does he have to tell anyone in the Thai Government that he is moving permanently to live here and how much money will he make from the girls 25 rai [ 10 acres ] of unused rice paddy, plus how much do I think he will need for the wedding. What can you really tell him, sorry you may as well just get used to the fact that you are a fat, ugly SOB and will live the rest of your miserable life alone. Of course not, you try to break the bad news with a few hopeful options, but really, there are none.
Second, the rich guy. Same as the poor guy, contacts me from the net. His girlfreind comes from a village about 60 km from me and could he come visit and have a talk, next time he is in Thailand. I tell him if he brings beer I will talk till the sun comes up. 2 months later up he rocks, a load of beer and one drop dead Thai girl.
His story, he has never been married, same age as me 54, worked his whole life building up his business, he's not mega rich, but could call it a day buy a villa and yacht in the Med and live the good life till he died. I am not one to believe many storys that I am told, so did a few searches on the net and found he was indeed who he said he was. On this first trip to Thailand, he had left his hotel walked into the first Go Go bar he saw. She said hello and that was it, all loved up. 2 weeks later he's on the plane home and she's heading back to the village with an ATM card that will not stop. Now he is a man of the world, been to Vegas and Thailand, knows what the go is and is 4 mil Baht a good price for 25 rai of rubber trees. I try to tell him to slow down. No a week later he calls to say do I want to come see his rubber plantation.
2 days later he's on the plane back to the states and that's it for 6 months. I get a phone call, I'm back and am getting married in the village in 2 days time. Never one to turn down a free party, we are off, wife, kids and mother in-law. When I get there, first thing I see is the new extensions on the house, a new small shop beside it and a brand new twin cab 4 wheel drive . This guy had only been with this girl in the flesh, for 5 weeks and he had spent over 5 Mil Baht.
He had also brought a friend with him, who I think was less than impressed with the goings on, but we had a good talk over the beer. Seems the groom had no intension of moving to Thailand for several years to come. His business was was his life and if he sold up now, he would be lucky to walk away with much over 4 Mill US dollars.
In all fairness to him, his dream may not seem that expensive if you have that kind of money. As for his new wife, she is really a nice girl and would have make a very good wife, but like all of us, wants to do the best for her daughter and mother and have a secure future. There will be no more GO Go bars for her.
The drifters.
These are a lesser seen type, but you will find them in the most unusal and unknown places. They are a combination of the losers, boozers and dreamers. They come in all ages and from most western countries. You will find them in any country in the world. They are looking for something, but don't know what. In Thailand in some unheard of place you will see a Swede bend over cutting rice in a paddy field. or a German plowing a field with his iron water buffalo. On a remote island in the flood plains of the Mekong, an Australian baking bread. Or a Brit moving his water buffalo to better grass, in the back of beyond. In my case a Brit/ Ozzy growing rubber in a place no one has heard of. They don't go out to towns much, but if you ever meet one, buy him a beer, he may just give you a few words about the meaning of life.
When I was younger, time seemed different, my father would go to work, come home watch TV with the family. Saturday night out with the work mates to the pub, for a few beers. Sunday was a neighbor time, The men of the street would gather in someones house, garage or if the weather was good, the back yard. They would sit drink and talk. BBQs were more often than not lit and wives and children would attend. That was Australia when it was a lucky country. Later in my life, living in the UK, there was always time to stop for a few pints after work. Life just drifted along.
About 15 years ago, a friend of mine returned to a small village in Yorkshire, after 23 years in Australia. He went to his old local pub for a beer. The first words he heard were, hi Jeff, haven't seen you for awhile, been away. It was the same with the wife in our village. After all those years away, at school in Bangkok and living in Australia, it was like she had never left. I wonder how many of us could return to our home towns and say the same, not many I would bet. Time has stood still in a few places, but these places are disappearing fast.
At first I hadn't noticed that the way of life was changing, it was just me getting older. Now when I look back I see that it was not age, but the way the world had been programmed, by social engineering. There was no longer down time, every hour was accounted for. A get together with the work mates was no longer, coming out for a beer, It had to be planed months in advance. Days off were no longer free time, but had to be used productively.
A friend one day said , that he and his wife were going to travel around South East Asia. They were to start in Singapore, head up through Malaysia, across Thailand and Lao to Vietnam. I said sounds good, how many months do you have off. He looked at me and said, it's a 10 day package tour. Seems you have to cram in more and more in less and less time. Whether in your job or in your life.
Think this can be seen very clearly in the binge drinking culture, which has come to most of our cities. How can you expect people to work longer, work faster and do more. Then go out on a Friday and Saturday night and drink at their fathers pace. When you can get 5 or 6 hours of alcohol down your throat in 2. Governments blame everyone else, but they are the ones that turned up the speed. At least in Australia, there is no time to stop and smell the roses, anymore.
Here is where much of Thailand marches to a different drum. Your local shop keeper is more likely to be asleep in a hammock than stacking shelves. When the locals have down time, which is most of the time, it is spent eating and talking or sleeping. If there was an Olympic sport of sleeping, Thailand would be undisputed champions. I have always found it amazing that, a cousin or visitor , after eating and talking, can lie on a bench with an empty coke bottle as a pillow and be asleep like a baby within minutes. Only wish I could do the same. There are no Saturdays or Sundays, work is done when it needs to be done. If there is a reason for a bit of a party the Lao Khow [ rice whiskey ] is just as likely to start flowing at 6 am as 6 pm. Things are done when the time comes to do them, not by a clock. No one says lazy so and so sleeping at this time of day or look at him drinking at breakfast. They live in the moment, not by some man made concept of the right time and place.
Losers, Boozer, Drifters and Dreamers
Now what sort of westerners find themselves in these forgotten places. The vast majority come first because of wives and girlfriends. For most of them it is something they have to do to keep the wife happy. Their best memories of the place will be boarding the plane home.
The boozers
There are quite allot of ex servicemen, cops, fireman and public servents of one form our other. Mostly yanks and Brits who live a better life on their pensions here, than, they can at home. Of these, most will have an Issan wife and live in a big town or city. They will buy or rent modest homes or apartments. After a life of disciple and routine, they find themselves somewhat a at lost as to what to do with their time. They then settle in to a regular daily cycle, which almost always means beer with the boys each night. Normally they will not be big drinkers, as their pensions don't allow for nightly binges. When I enter a strange farang bar, it is to this table I usually end up . I call these the boozers. Not in a derogatory way. They have done their service, lost most of what they had in a divorce, lasted to get their pensions. Their biggest worry in life is exchange rates. It's just their time to relax and kick back.
The losers
This group are people who have made some money in their home countries. These are the guys who will be talking money, world economics etc, If you ask them what they used to do, they will say things like, I was the owner of a transport company [ owned their own taxi cab]. Had a plumbing construction company,[ a father and son plumbers.] Many more will say they were into real estate and got out before the bubble burst [ Had bought a second house and had to sell when they got divorced ]. All will be doing on line consultancy work and have some vague idea of starting some business in Thailand. They come from all counties and live in houses 10 times bigger than they will ever use. This is to impress their friends, who will never come and visit. Often the homes are in the middle of no where, but near to the wife's village.
These people will more than likely be of the short stay type. After they have moved into their mansions, reality kicks in. They sit in their big homes alone, drinking. Their idea of being Lord of the Manor, soon disappears. They have spent big to impress, but there is no one to impress. They will head back to Pattaya if the money permits, or head home to start again. Some with a small overseas income will simply sit and drink themselves to death. Theses are the real losers of Issan, just too smart for their own good. You will see the relics of their homes, doted over the countryside.
My nearest neighbor, a very sick man, lives with his Thai wife of many years, in a 5 story monolith. He can't climb the stairs and spends his days and nights in a small room on the ground floor, watching football and waiting to die. Last month a Norwegian , 52 years old died in his home. He refused to go in the ambulance on 3 separate occasions, he was diabetic. Died in the night with a bottle of Sam Sung by his side. Further down the road there is a big house with a medieval turret on it. Never have seen anyone ever live there.
They came, they spent and those who could went.
The dreamers
This group has 2 types, those with money and those without. Both have one thing in common, they suspend all belief in reality and commonsense, when they arrive in Thailand. This for some reason seems to inflict Americans more than other nationalities. Maybe due to some belief in US superiority, but more likely a lack of understanding, how the rest of the world really is.
Here I will tell 2 story's , each from one end of the wealth spectrum, hope none of them read this. I am sure anyone who lives in Thailand will have many such tales.
First the poor guy. I get many e mails from people who have watched one of my youtube videos. Most are questions on rubber farming and some about Issan weddings. So Joe citizen from the US writes after having watched my Issan wedding on youtube. His questions and story were simple. While on a 2 week holiday to Thailand he meet, would you believe it, a girl. She is 15 years older than him, I take that to mean he is one fat ugly SOB. He is madly in love and wants to move to Thailand, marry the girl and live, but has very little money. His questions are , does he have to tell anyone in the Thai Government that he is moving permanently to live here and how much money will he make from the girls 25 rai [ 10 acres ] of unused rice paddy, plus how much do I think he will need for the wedding. What can you really tell him, sorry you may as well just get used to the fact that you are a fat, ugly SOB and will live the rest of your miserable life alone. Of course not, you try to break the bad news with a few hopeful options, but really, there are none.
Second, the rich guy. Same as the poor guy, contacts me from the net. His girlfreind comes from a village about 60 km from me and could he come visit and have a talk, next time he is in Thailand. I tell him if he brings beer I will talk till the sun comes up. 2 months later up he rocks, a load of beer and one drop dead Thai girl.
His story, he has never been married, same age as me 54, worked his whole life building up his business, he's not mega rich, but could call it a day buy a villa and yacht in the Med and live the good life till he died. I am not one to believe many storys that I am told, so did a few searches on the net and found he was indeed who he said he was. On this first trip to Thailand, he had left his hotel walked into the first Go Go bar he saw. She said hello and that was it, all loved up. 2 weeks later he's on the plane home and she's heading back to the village with an ATM card that will not stop. Now he is a man of the world, been to Vegas and Thailand, knows what the go is and is 4 mil Baht a good price for 25 rai of rubber trees. I try to tell him to slow down. No a week later he calls to say do I want to come see his rubber plantation.
2 days later he's on the plane back to the states and that's it for 6 months. I get a phone call, I'm back and am getting married in the village in 2 days time. Never one to turn down a free party, we are off, wife, kids and mother in-law. When I get there, first thing I see is the new extensions on the house, a new small shop beside it and a brand new twin cab 4 wheel drive . This guy had only been with this girl in the flesh, for 5 weeks and he had spent over 5 Mil Baht.
He had also brought a friend with him, who I think was less than impressed with the goings on, but we had a good talk over the beer. Seems the groom had no intension of moving to Thailand for several years to come. His business was was his life and if he sold up now, he would be lucky to walk away with much over 4 Mill US dollars.
In all fairness to him, his dream may not seem that expensive if you have that kind of money. As for his new wife, she is really a nice girl and would have make a very good wife, but like all of us, wants to do the best for her daughter and mother and have a secure future. There will be no more GO Go bars for her.
The drifters.
These are a lesser seen type, but you will find them in the most unusal and unknown places. They are a combination of the losers, boozers and dreamers. They come in all ages and from most western countries. You will find them in any country in the world. They are looking for something, but don't know what. In Thailand in some unheard of place you will see a Swede bend over cutting rice in a paddy field. or a German plowing a field with his iron water buffalo. On a remote island in the flood plains of the Mekong, an Australian baking bread. Or a Brit moving his water buffalo to better grass, in the back of beyond. In my case a Brit/ Ozzy growing rubber in a place no one has heard of. They don't go out to towns much, but if you ever meet one, buy him a beer, he may just give you a few words about the meaning of life.
Friday, July 15, 2011
A good bye for now
I guess we grow close to the end of this little saga, we have almost caught up to the present day . We saw 2011 come in, in Australia. We had returned for Christmas, Christmas in Australia had sent me broke. I thought about getting a job to tied us over the dry season, but there was little in the way of work, and we all missed the village. I sold my last possession, the car to get the air fare home. We lived frugally until the rains came, selling our first sheet rubber in June. Most of the money was owed, for fertilizer and loans, but we survived. Next week we sell again and there will be money left.
This year we have 8 workers and 2 of their wives help out. The factory grinds along, making a few thousand Baht profit per month. We just don't have the money to buy big yet, there is always next year. The house still needs work, but nothing major, things will come in there own good time. To most people, who have lived by the clock all their lives, my days would be boring. I get up when it is to warm to sleep, read books when I can fined any, play on the computer and browse the internet, when I have a signal. Once a day I ride or drive to the factory to feed the dogs. When the heat gets to much we take the kids to a small water fall, not far from the village for a swim. Each evening I sit out front watching our 2 kids play in the little street or under the neighbors stilt house, with the other village kids, usually with a cold beer in my hand. We eat, the kids watch a video and the women watch Thai soap operas, another day has has ended. When I sleep there are no bad dreams or nightmares. When money permits we head to Ubon or a small resort near the meeting of the Mun and Mekong rivers, for a few days. Sometimes we have visitors from the west, which adds a bit of variety to the week. Life is simple, the days come and go, our children play as children should, not locked indoors. If the world outside ended tomorrow, I would not care, we have chickens, ducks and a fish pond, we have land for rice, we will not starve. When my kids grow there will be more than enough money from the lumber from the rubber trees to put them through any University they care to attend. For me this is my Shangri-la, my lost horizon.
Thank you for reading this blog, I will update it when things happen, which is not likely to be too often. If one day I get access to reasonable inter net I will up load some pictures. So it is bye for now. Jim
This year we have 8 workers and 2 of their wives help out. The factory grinds along, making a few thousand Baht profit per month. We just don't have the money to buy big yet, there is always next year. The house still needs work, but nothing major, things will come in there own good time. To most people, who have lived by the clock all their lives, my days would be boring. I get up when it is to warm to sleep, read books when I can fined any, play on the computer and browse the internet, when I have a signal. Once a day I ride or drive to the factory to feed the dogs. When the heat gets to much we take the kids to a small water fall, not far from the village for a swim. Each evening I sit out front watching our 2 kids play in the little street or under the neighbors stilt house, with the other village kids, usually with a cold beer in my hand. We eat, the kids watch a video and the women watch Thai soap operas, another day has has ended. When I sleep there are no bad dreams or nightmares. When money permits we head to Ubon or a small resort near the meeting of the Mun and Mekong rivers, for a few days. Sometimes we have visitors from the west, which adds a bit of variety to the week. Life is simple, the days come and go, our children play as children should, not locked indoors. If the world outside ended tomorrow, I would not care, we have chickens, ducks and a fish pond, we have land for rice, we will not starve. When my kids grow there will be more than enough money from the lumber from the rubber trees to put them through any University they care to attend. For me this is my Shangri-la, my lost horizon.
Thank you for reading this blog, I will update it when things happen, which is not likely to be too often. If one day I get access to reasonable inter net I will up load some pictures. So it is bye for now. Jim
Bandits, Junkies and Rambo
During the time of house building and car buying, rumors of rubber, motorbike thefts and armed robbery's had been circulating around the area. I seldom took much notice of village tales as they always seemed to be blown out of proportion or happened 20 plus years ago. Yet there was more than usual, story's of bandits crossing over from Lao had become common. There is no shortage of dodgy characters up here, just as in the city. Petty thieves, stealing cup rubber from unwatched plantations. Isolated houses burgled while the owners were at the rice fields. Even my nearest English neighbor had caught a teenager trying to steal from his house. Then one day a Thai rubber farmer chanced upon a group stealing his rubber. he was armed. As he approached, someone in the group fired at him. A short exchange of gun fire ensued and the group fled. One of the thieves had been wounded, there was a blood trail to where they had parked their motorbikes.
There is no shortage of weapons around theses parts. The border war with the Vietnamese in Cambodia and communist insurgents aided by the PDR of Lao had only finish in 1985. The Thais had given weapons to villages to protect themselves and the other side had armed local communist sympathizers. Many of these weapons are still out there.
We live in a village, everyone watches out for everyone else, strangers stand out, but even to this day the village heads and some Government employees are issued with rifles. The father in-law is one. At rice harvesting time the villagers desert their homes and the families go and live in the rice fields, until all the rice has been harvested. At these times the village heads etc are supposed to patrol around to keep away thieves. Not that you are likely to see one walking a beat late at night. It is the jungle after all and this has been a lawless area for as long as people have lived here. Only recently have marked police patrols come this far, this is border soldiers country.
The factory was broken into one night, $500 worth of rubber had been stolen. We had the brother in-law and his wife staying there, but when he went to tap rubber he would bring his wife here for the night. It was on such a night that they came. I got the family and the tappers all together, to see what we could do. The story of bandits from Lao had scared them, none wanted to stay alone at the factory.
Later I got more of the truth as to what was happening. Seems that the bandits from Lao numbered 3, one of which was a Thai, wanted by the police. He had fled over to some cousins across the border and they were drug smugglers. Meths amphetamines, speed or yabba as it's called in Thailand. They would bring the drugs over to the Thai guys old village, which is deep in the jungle and sell. Word had got around of this abundance of cheap yabba and junkies from around the district had headed there to buy. Like anywhere in the world your average junkie has to steal to get the money. Where better to steal than near your supply, no travel involved and less chance of getting caught by the police. The police were powerless to do much, if they went in mob handed the junkies just melted into the jungle. The police are neither trained nor equipped to chase bad guys through the jungle and I am sure they were reluctant to do so encase the bad boys had a load of AK 47 assault rifles waiting.
A bunch of junkies were not going to be stealing my rubber, so I moved to the factory. On the first night the wife and father dropped me off, the father showed me a cupboard, inside was a muzzele loading bird rife. It was something Davey Crocket would have carried, except that it was for birds and was less than a 22 caliber. I looked at the wife and said one shot, then what, beat them about the head with it, I thought theses guys were all armed and afraid of nothing. She smiled and said, everyone has seen Rambo 4, no one would dare to rob the place, while you are here. I lasted 5 days, my back was broke from sleeping on a mat and I was bored. Grabbed the wife and kids. We all went to Ubon for the weekend, that night the factory was robbed again, they had been watching.
There was no way I was going to take up permanent residents in the factory. CCTV was the only answer, 15,000 Baht $500 I had a state of the art video surveillance system. It was installed the following Tuesday along with some sensor lights. I told everyone , that not only would it record anyone coming into the factory, but it was inter net linked and could be watched from any where in the world. We caught our first thief 2 weeks later. He wasn't stealing our rubber, but selling stolen rubber. The owner of the rubber came to see all the rubber buyers in the area, to see if anyone had sold some sheet. He identified his rubber . The police were called and a memory stick with the video was handed over. The man was arrested and given 12 months in the monkey house. The bad guys who weren't afraid of anything were afraid of prison. Word spread about the cameras and we have never had a problem since. As for the 3 bandits from Lao. I am told , but can't say how true it is. As I said earlier village storys go round, that they came to some is misfortune in i the jungle. Either way they have not been see since.
There is no shortage of weapons around theses parts. The border war with the Vietnamese in Cambodia and communist insurgents aided by the PDR of Lao had only finish in 1985. The Thais had given weapons to villages to protect themselves and the other side had armed local communist sympathizers. Many of these weapons are still out there.
We live in a village, everyone watches out for everyone else, strangers stand out, but even to this day the village heads and some Government employees are issued with rifles. The father in-law is one. At rice harvesting time the villagers desert their homes and the families go and live in the rice fields, until all the rice has been harvested. At these times the village heads etc are supposed to patrol around to keep away thieves. Not that you are likely to see one walking a beat late at night. It is the jungle after all and this has been a lawless area for as long as people have lived here. Only recently have marked police patrols come this far, this is border soldiers country.
The factory was broken into one night, $500 worth of rubber had been stolen. We had the brother in-law and his wife staying there, but when he went to tap rubber he would bring his wife here for the night. It was on such a night that they came. I got the family and the tappers all together, to see what we could do. The story of bandits from Lao had scared them, none wanted to stay alone at the factory.
Later I got more of the truth as to what was happening. Seems that the bandits from Lao numbered 3, one of which was a Thai, wanted by the police. He had fled over to some cousins across the border and they were drug smugglers. Meths amphetamines, speed or yabba as it's called in Thailand. They would bring the drugs over to the Thai guys old village, which is deep in the jungle and sell. Word had got around of this abundance of cheap yabba and junkies from around the district had headed there to buy. Like anywhere in the world your average junkie has to steal to get the money. Where better to steal than near your supply, no travel involved and less chance of getting caught by the police. The police were powerless to do much, if they went in mob handed the junkies just melted into the jungle. The police are neither trained nor equipped to chase bad guys through the jungle and I am sure they were reluctant to do so encase the bad boys had a load of AK 47 assault rifles waiting.
A bunch of junkies were not going to be stealing my rubber, so I moved to the factory. On the first night the wife and father dropped me off, the father showed me a cupboard, inside was a muzzele loading bird rife. It was something Davey Crocket would have carried, except that it was for birds and was less than a 22 caliber. I looked at the wife and said one shot, then what, beat them about the head with it, I thought theses guys were all armed and afraid of nothing. She smiled and said, everyone has seen Rambo 4, no one would dare to rob the place, while you are here. I lasted 5 days, my back was broke from sleeping on a mat and I was bored. Grabbed the wife and kids. We all went to Ubon for the weekend, that night the factory was robbed again, they had been watching.
There was no way I was going to take up permanent residents in the factory. CCTV was the only answer, 15,000 Baht $500 I had a state of the art video surveillance system. It was installed the following Tuesday along with some sensor lights. I told everyone , that not only would it record anyone coming into the factory, but it was inter net linked and could be watched from any where in the world. We caught our first thief 2 weeks later. He wasn't stealing our rubber, but selling stolen rubber. The owner of the rubber came to see all the rubber buyers in the area, to see if anyone had sold some sheet. He identified his rubber . The police were called and a memory stick with the video was handed over. The man was arrested and given 12 months in the monkey house. The bad guys who weren't afraid of anything were afraid of prison. Word spread about the cameras and we have never had a problem since. As for the 3 bandits from Lao. I am told , but can't say how true it is. As I said earlier village storys go round, that they came to some is misfortune in i the jungle. Either way they have not been see since.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Cars, money and houses
Day's passed, rubber flowed, the price was good and to my delight the trees produced more than I could have hoped. Still money was tight, there were so may things that we needed. We needed to extend the house, the concrete block bedroom was a nightmare with the 2 little ones sleeping with us. Also there were dangers. The original house had been built 20 plus years earlier, before the concrete road. The house was half a meter below street level. This had no effect on the neighbors stilt huts, they just raised the soil under their hut. Now our house was damp and prone to minor flooding during heavy rain. The dampness brought bugs, which brought frogs and they brought scorpions. Sooner or later one of the kids would be stung.
It was decide to sell the smallest plantation, I hated the idea of losing 600 plus trees, but the kids needed a bedroom and we needed another car. The pick up truck had been fine with only the wife and I, but was no family sedan.
The Car.
To most westerners, food, shelter and in my case, closely followed by beer, are the prime requirements of life. Cars are a necessity for some and a luxury for others. To a jungle dwelling Thai the car is, the be all and end all of status. They will hock their kidneys for one. With the coming of rubber to the village, the first thing a man would buy, with his new found wealth, was the biggest twin cab pickup truck that the bank would allow. Most could not even drive and would need a friend who could, to bring it back. Where once water buffalo slept under the house a new silver Toyota, or Mitsubishi took pride of place. To make the payments they would live, as they had before the coming of rubber money. A village up the road with 400 homes bought 70 brand new pick ups last year alone. When I said we were going to buy a new car smiles of joy filled the family.
A car to me is just a means of transport and what we needed was a vehicle to take the kids and wife to town shopping, for moving big things the pick up truck was there. When I announced that we were going to buy a little city hatchback for shopping. They had low repayments and were cheap to run. The mother began to cry and the fathers head hung in shame, better to buy nothing, than the smallest car in the village. We were rich and needed the biggest and best. The shame of it all. Over the next week or so , everywhere I sat was a brochure, pamphlet, advertising twin cab trucks. This was one I would not win. 2 weeks later we went to town and bought a big black 7 seat Pajero SUV. No one in the village had an SUV, all were happy. As is the way, you have to throw a party for the new car. The car must be driven straight home and not leave the house for 24 hours. Monks must come and scribble spells all over it. Everyone who comes to look, ties white string on to something and gives their blessings. I would be allowed to buy a small car now, or in 6 years when we had finished paying of this beast.
House ,let the building begin.
Most westerners and rich Thais seem to build big square western looking houses. On the Thai side it is a belief that western is best. On the Farang side, it is the big house back home, that they could never afford. I had lived here long enough to know that the only time spent inside was watching TV or sleeping. Shaded patios and open areas were the go. A simple plan was drawn up, 2 bedrooms, a large bathroom attached to the in-laws shack by a tiled floor and roofed area. We had build the soil level up the previous year. A local village builder was hired. Builders here are hired by the job, they quote to put up the poles, then quote to pour the concrete etc. They had only started work when the wife decided the main bedroom was to small and she double the size, more poles and concrete. After the builders were paid for the jobs done, they disappeared for a week. Eating and drinking until the money was gone. This would be a regular occurrence over the 5 or 6 months they were here.
The Aunt who had raised the wife near Bangkok, turned up one day. She had decided to move in with us. The Aunt had never been married, had no children and looked on Bell as her daughter and our kids as her grandchildren. I couldn't say no and another bedroom was added. We had got to the painting stage. When all brushes were down and more poles, roof titles, bricks and concrete arrived. The father had decided that a big back veranda was needed. He would pay, which in Thai means he will pay now and when we have the money we pay him back. At this time I said NO MORE, that's it. I was wrong of course.
The brother in-law had moved up from Krabi with his wife. The wife's family are big time rubber and palm oil planters, as well as land and building owners in Krabi town. Not poor, rich by western standards. The brother knew rubber, but wanted to come back home. I gave him the job as my head foreman and they had moved into the factory office. The family had pledged to give her 5 Million Baht, when they produced their first grandchild. She was pregnant and the office was no place for a baby. A house was needed, the family agreed to sent up the money to build, simple. Not in rural Thailand it is not, the monk, shaman or house building witch doctor must be consulted first. 2011 [2554 Buddha] was a bad luck year for them to build, 2012 would bring a happy house. Brother approaches sister, my wife, explains the dilemma and can he build another bedroom on to our house. He will pay and I will not have to pay him back, it was only for the year. Now I am not going to say no to an offer like that. Builders are back, not to made a bedroom, but a bed sit, bedroom with small lounge area.
What had started as a 2 bedroom hut now looked more like a 6 bedroom motel, but I did get my hot shower.
It was decide to sell the smallest plantation, I hated the idea of losing 600 plus trees, but the kids needed a bedroom and we needed another car. The pick up truck had been fine with only the wife and I, but was no family sedan.
The Car.
To most westerners, food, shelter and in my case, closely followed by beer, are the prime requirements of life. Cars are a necessity for some and a luxury for others. To a jungle dwelling Thai the car is, the be all and end all of status. They will hock their kidneys for one. With the coming of rubber to the village, the first thing a man would buy, with his new found wealth, was the biggest twin cab pickup truck that the bank would allow. Most could not even drive and would need a friend who could, to bring it back. Where once water buffalo slept under the house a new silver Toyota, or Mitsubishi took pride of place. To make the payments they would live, as they had before the coming of rubber money. A village up the road with 400 homes bought 70 brand new pick ups last year alone. When I said we were going to buy a new car smiles of joy filled the family.
A car to me is just a means of transport and what we needed was a vehicle to take the kids and wife to town shopping, for moving big things the pick up truck was there. When I announced that we were going to buy a little city hatchback for shopping. They had low repayments and were cheap to run. The mother began to cry and the fathers head hung in shame, better to buy nothing, than the smallest car in the village. We were rich and needed the biggest and best. The shame of it all. Over the next week or so , everywhere I sat was a brochure, pamphlet, advertising twin cab trucks. This was one I would not win. 2 weeks later we went to town and bought a big black 7 seat Pajero SUV. No one in the village had an SUV, all were happy. As is the way, you have to throw a party for the new car. The car must be driven straight home and not leave the house for 24 hours. Monks must come and scribble spells all over it. Everyone who comes to look, ties white string on to something and gives their blessings. I would be allowed to buy a small car now, or in 6 years when we had finished paying of this beast.
House ,let the building begin.
Most westerners and rich Thais seem to build big square western looking houses. On the Thai side it is a belief that western is best. On the Farang side, it is the big house back home, that they could never afford. I had lived here long enough to know that the only time spent inside was watching TV or sleeping. Shaded patios and open areas were the go. A simple plan was drawn up, 2 bedrooms, a large bathroom attached to the in-laws shack by a tiled floor and roofed area. We had build the soil level up the previous year. A local village builder was hired. Builders here are hired by the job, they quote to put up the poles, then quote to pour the concrete etc. They had only started work when the wife decided the main bedroom was to small and she double the size, more poles and concrete. After the builders were paid for the jobs done, they disappeared for a week. Eating and drinking until the money was gone. This would be a regular occurrence over the 5 or 6 months they were here.
The Aunt who had raised the wife near Bangkok, turned up one day. She had decided to move in with us. The Aunt had never been married, had no children and looked on Bell as her daughter and our kids as her grandchildren. I couldn't say no and another bedroom was added. We had got to the painting stage. When all brushes were down and more poles, roof titles, bricks and concrete arrived. The father had decided that a big back veranda was needed. He would pay, which in Thai means he will pay now and when we have the money we pay him back. At this time I said NO MORE, that's it. I was wrong of course.
The brother in-law had moved up from Krabi with his wife. The wife's family are big time rubber and palm oil planters, as well as land and building owners in Krabi town. Not poor, rich by western standards. The brother knew rubber, but wanted to come back home. I gave him the job as my head foreman and they had moved into the factory office. The family had pledged to give her 5 Million Baht, when they produced their first grandchild. She was pregnant and the office was no place for a baby. A house was needed, the family agreed to sent up the money to build, simple. Not in rural Thailand it is not, the monk, shaman or house building witch doctor must be consulted first. 2011 [2554 Buddha] was a bad luck year for them to build, 2012 would bring a happy house. Brother approaches sister, my wife, explains the dilemma and can he build another bedroom on to our house. He will pay and I will not have to pay him back, it was only for the year. Now I am not going to say no to an offer like that. Builders are back, not to made a bedroom, but a bed sit, bedroom with small lounge area.
What had started as a 2 bedroom hut now looked more like a 6 bedroom motel, but I did get my hot shower.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The last days and a new begining
Christmas came and went, it would be the last Christmas eve I would spend guarding prisoners, instead of playing with my children. The factory had ground to a halt weeks after our return to Australia. The father in-law just could not get to grips with the whole idea of buying rubber for less than we sold it. I had expected the worst, he had only lost $1,000, by paying too much or buying bad rubber. then he gave up. The trees we had opened were doing well, though the dormant period was fast approaching. The results were promising , I had calculated that next season we would have 3,000 trees ready to produce. It would be enough to live, time to prepare for our escape.
In Australia they have a thing called long service leave, after 10 years you are entitled to 3 months paid leave. Now I had lost most of my service by resigning the last time, but while trying to stay awake one lonely night shift, I found a clause in the employment agreement that said, I could be credited previous service. Including the time spent as a casual Prison Officer. It was like winning the lottery, money to leave. On the next day shift I spent most of my time filling in forms, sending e mails and making phone calls. It would take 2 months before the leave was credited to my service. On that day the first rains fell on the plantations, awakening the trees. I typed up my resignation and submitted it. It was made very clear to me by the big boss that if I went again, there would be no coming back. Too late for second thoughts , there would be no more prisons in my life, unless I ended up a prisoner.
One month later I spent the day saying goodbye to my co workers, handed in my ID and some uniforms. I was no longer one of the boys and had to be escorted out the door. Some people believe that they will be missed or the work they do is noticed. I have found that once you walk out the door, it is just like taking your arm out of a bucket of water, that's the impression you leave, nothing. The water just fills in the hole, as if you had never been there. We were on the plane one week later. cashed up and ready for a new begining.
Home, if you can call a 3 room hut, home. We were still living in the in-laws up market shack. there was now runing water, but still a cold shower. Our bedroom was a concrete block, with a flat tin roof. When the sun rose in the mornimg the heat was unbearable and you had to move outside to a hammock. Things would have to improve, but time is different here, it would all happen in Thai time.
On the first night back I sat outside drinking beer from an ice box. The village had changed, there was the flicker of TVs, more concrete block houses and cars. Rubber had brought money, the village was no longer a place that time had passed by.
As you do when you sit alone drinking beer, I pondered life. It was 2010 I was now 53 years old, with 2 young kids and my working life was over. As long as the rubber flowed, the wifes would never begin. 8 plus years had passed in the twinkling of an eye. Bell had been stoic through it all. Never once did she complain that we lived in a hut in Thailand, nor that all her friends in Australia lived in big houses and drove new cars, I had been lucky. I thought of all those people who adivsed never spent more in Thailand than you can affort to lose. I couldn't afford to lose anything, but invested everything. We had made it, now there would be time to play with the kids, time to swim, picnic and enjoy living. We were far from rich, but there would be money enough for food and beer, life was good. As often happens , I had turned a page and a new chapter began.
In Australia they have a thing called long service leave, after 10 years you are entitled to 3 months paid leave. Now I had lost most of my service by resigning the last time, but while trying to stay awake one lonely night shift, I found a clause in the employment agreement that said, I could be credited previous service. Including the time spent as a casual Prison Officer. It was like winning the lottery, money to leave. On the next day shift I spent most of my time filling in forms, sending e mails and making phone calls. It would take 2 months before the leave was credited to my service. On that day the first rains fell on the plantations, awakening the trees. I typed up my resignation and submitted it. It was made very clear to me by the big boss that if I went again, there would be no coming back. Too late for second thoughts , there would be no more prisons in my life, unless I ended up a prisoner.
One month later I spent the day saying goodbye to my co workers, handed in my ID and some uniforms. I was no longer one of the boys and had to be escorted out the door. Some people believe that they will be missed or the work they do is noticed. I have found that once you walk out the door, it is just like taking your arm out of a bucket of water, that's the impression you leave, nothing. The water just fills in the hole, as if you had never been there. We were on the plane one week later. cashed up and ready for a new begining.
Home, if you can call a 3 room hut, home. We were still living in the in-laws up market shack. there was now runing water, but still a cold shower. Our bedroom was a concrete block, with a flat tin roof. When the sun rose in the mornimg the heat was unbearable and you had to move outside to a hammock. Things would have to improve, but time is different here, it would all happen in Thai time.
On the first night back I sat outside drinking beer from an ice box. The village had changed, there was the flicker of TVs, more concrete block houses and cars. Rubber had brought money, the village was no longer a place that time had passed by.
As you do when you sit alone drinking beer, I pondered life. It was 2010 I was now 53 years old, with 2 young kids and my working life was over. As long as the rubber flowed, the wifes would never begin. 8 plus years had passed in the twinkling of an eye. Bell had been stoic through it all. Never once did she complain that we lived in a hut in Thailand, nor that all her friends in Australia lived in big houses and drove new cars, I had been lucky. I thought of all those people who adivsed never spent more in Thailand than you can affort to lose. I couldn't afford to lose anything, but invested everything. We had made it, now there would be time to play with the kids, time to swim, picnic and enjoy living. We were far from rich, but there would be money enough for food and beer, life was good. As often happens , I had turned a page and a new chapter began.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Awards and Blessings
There was nothing I could do, but except that I was stuck in jail, like it or lump it. Now there are many bitter and twisted public servants who know, what they do today, will be the same tomorrow and the next day for ever more. They are not going up, but just filling in the days. Some go into complaining mode, others like me just drift into the shadows, do their jobs, nothing more or less than needed, go home and pick up their pay. Strangely enough I must have seemed very happy with the place. I have always been easy going and a fairly cheerful type of guy.
The powers that be had set up one of these staff awards, the 12 virtues of Christmas or some such crap. One morning in front of about 10 other staff a Uniformed raking shrink comes over to me, to say that I had been nominated for a staff morale award. The smiling idiot award or something. I looked at her in amazement and said, if I am the best you have, , you have one hell of a staff morale problem. Needless to say I never received an award and my name was removed from the nominations list.
The days went by and the new baby was born, Alexandra. Rubber prices where on the up, there seemed to be light at the end of the tunnel. After Alex was 6 months old and had had her vaccinations I concocted a story of village Christenings, Buddha monks and introductions to jungle spirits., I was allowed 3 months leave. With the now 2 baby family assistance , we would be fine for money. We were on the plane back once more.
Though happy to be back in the village, I was less than happy with the state of the factory. The weeds had taken over, the road side signs were gone, the gates were locked and the radio commercial had been canceled. This is where village, Issan logic and western logic are on 2 different plans. To the Thais why would you spend 50 Baht a year for each road side sign when they could be used for roofing on the plantation huts, what was the point of a radio commercial when the gates were locked and why cut the grass if there was on one there. No one was selling rubber to the factory, so why bother. I tried to explain that no one was selling rubber to us, as the factory looked abandoned and there was no one there to buy, if anyone did come, but to no avail. We would just have to start again, another party to re open.
A party was arranged, the grass cut, some fresh paint and general tidy up done. This was to be ,not only a new opening of the factory, but a blessing from the monks for the kids. Now in Buddha monk terms 7 monks is good, 9 is better, but for a heathen white man that would be 15. Not only 15 monks, but a afternoon session and the next morning another blessing. The women arrived and a mountain of food was prepared, the younger lads drank Lao Khow [rice whiskey] and I drank beer and Johnny Walker. The monks arrived, set up in the office and the blessings began, By now the beer and whiskey was starting to have an effect, but I managed to do my bit of crawling around the office putting envelopes with 500 Baht into each monks bowl, then getting my blessing. After much chanting and sprinkling of water the monks packed up and left. More booze flowed and food was eaten. Night came and the guests began to leave. By now I am well and truly pissed, but through the blur of alcohol, I noted that the guests were taking all the food home. I said to the wife they are stealing all the food. No she said, that is how it is done, all the food is given to the guests to take home. We had a young cow butchered for this and I hadn't even got a hamburger out of it. Those with more stamina stayed, drinking and playing cards, I returned to the beer and whiskey.
Next morning I awoke on the bench seat of the pick up truck, to the sound of the monks chanting. The women were preparing more food, the card players were still playing and drinking. Looking at all the empty beer bottles and half empty whiskey bottle I decided that I had had enough blessing for this life and cracked another beer. The monks left, the Lao Khow began to flow and food was eaten. By 10 am it was all over and the guests left with all the food and I started on the whiskey.
We were back, open for business, but business was slow and I didn't have time on my side, we would be on the plane back within a month. We opened some of our bigger trees to see how they would go and make some money to help with the fertilzer bill. That was about all I could do this trip. Before I knew it I was walking into the prison once more, but the end was insight.
.
The powers that be had set up one of these staff awards, the 12 virtues of Christmas or some such crap. One morning in front of about 10 other staff a Uniformed raking shrink comes over to me, to say that I had been nominated for a staff morale award. The smiling idiot award or something. I looked at her in amazement and said, if I am the best you have, , you have one hell of a staff morale problem. Needless to say I never received an award and my name was removed from the nominations list.
The days went by and the new baby was born, Alexandra. Rubber prices where on the up, there seemed to be light at the end of the tunnel. After Alex was 6 months old and had had her vaccinations I concocted a story of village Christenings, Buddha monks and introductions to jungle spirits., I was allowed 3 months leave. With the now 2 baby family assistance , we would be fine for money. We were on the plane back once more.
Though happy to be back in the village, I was less than happy with the state of the factory. The weeds had taken over, the road side signs were gone, the gates were locked and the radio commercial had been canceled. This is where village, Issan logic and western logic are on 2 different plans. To the Thais why would you spend 50 Baht a year for each road side sign when they could be used for roofing on the plantation huts, what was the point of a radio commercial when the gates were locked and why cut the grass if there was on one there. No one was selling rubber to the factory, so why bother. I tried to explain that no one was selling rubber to us, as the factory looked abandoned and there was no one there to buy, if anyone did come, but to no avail. We would just have to start again, another party to re open.
A party was arranged, the grass cut, some fresh paint and general tidy up done. This was to be ,not only a new opening of the factory, but a blessing from the monks for the kids. Now in Buddha monk terms 7 monks is good, 9 is better, but for a heathen white man that would be 15. Not only 15 monks, but a afternoon session and the next morning another blessing. The women arrived and a mountain of food was prepared, the younger lads drank Lao Khow [rice whiskey] and I drank beer and Johnny Walker. The monks arrived, set up in the office and the blessings began, By now the beer and whiskey was starting to have an effect, but I managed to do my bit of crawling around the office putting envelopes with 500 Baht into each monks bowl, then getting my blessing. After much chanting and sprinkling of water the monks packed up and left. More booze flowed and food was eaten. Night came and the guests began to leave. By now I am well and truly pissed, but through the blur of alcohol, I noted that the guests were taking all the food home. I said to the wife they are stealing all the food. No she said, that is how it is done, all the food is given to the guests to take home. We had a young cow butchered for this and I hadn't even got a hamburger out of it. Those with more stamina stayed, drinking and playing cards, I returned to the beer and whiskey.
Next morning I awoke on the bench seat of the pick up truck, to the sound of the monks chanting. The women were preparing more food, the card players were still playing and drinking. Looking at all the empty beer bottles and half empty whiskey bottle I decided that I had had enough blessing for this life and cracked another beer. The monks left, the Lao Khow began to flow and food was eaten. By 10 am it was all over and the guests left with all the food and I started on the whiskey.
We were back, open for business, but business was slow and I didn't have time on my side, we would be on the plane back within a month. We opened some of our bigger trees to see how they would go and make some money to help with the fertilzer bill. That was about all I could do this trip. Before I knew it I was walking into the prison once more, but the end was insight.
.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Baby's, Do gooders and the GFC
Things had been going along fine for the next few years. All the trees had been planted and were doing well. We were flying back and forward on a regular basis and even managed to fit in the birth of our first daughter, Sarah-Jane. The new baby had proved to be of little problem, she was healthy and strong and too young to care about the moving. In one way she assisted, the Government of Australia had removed the tax deduction for children and replaced it with a flat family assistance payment. This money was deposited straight into the bank and continued for 3 months after you had left the country. A nice little earner when your living cost are low. All in all life was good, long working weeks in Australia and lazy beer drinking days in Thailand.
Knowing that one day the trees would start producing and to maximize profit , ribbed sheet would need to be made. A cousin of the wife had a small rubber processing set up where he make sheet and smoked it. See YouTube video, family run rubber, latex factory Buntharik Issan. After watching and learning the process a cunning plan came to me. I could do this, but bigger and cheaper, we could buy others latex, process it at a profit.Piece of cake. I would be rich, more importantly no more working for a living.
The first problem was money, or should I say the lack of it, I was so confident on the outcome that I convinced my brothers and sisters to invest. The Collister Rubber Company was formed. Many people see Thailand as some sort of third world free for all. Not so, the laws are very similar to most western country's. A company needs to be formed, planing permission obtained, permits, licenses and inspection done. At this point I would like to say thanks to the Thai Government SME Department in Ubon, without their help the project would never have come about. Next I had to find somewhere to build. Preferable on a main road with electricity. As per normal word went out on the jungle grape vine. Finally 10 rai on the main 2248 came up, it was perfect, several kilometers from the nearest village and with power lines on the road. The Thai seller could not believe his luck a stupid Farang wanted to buy a piece of worthless stoney ground where nothing would grow and bad title. There is one Thai who must curse the Farang, every time he rides buy now.
We were off, the wife's 2 brothers were sent to Rayong with a letter of introduction from the district Governor, to photograph, video and learn. Plans were drawn up workers hired, construction commenced and the money bleed out, back to Australia to work.
3 or 4 months later we had a party to open for business and show our prospective latex sellers around. Things started slow, but over the weeks production climbed. One day I was standing with the wife watching the sheet rubber slide out of the rollers. Each sheet was $1 US dollar profit, that day I counted 200. We had made it and it could only get better as more people came to sell. Little did I know that that would be the one and only time I would see 200 sheets.
It was decided that for the first time since we had married that I would return to Australia alone, work for 3 months to get enough money to tied us over the dry season. The wife was not happy, but agreed someone had to stay to watch over the business. I had not been back a week when the Global Financial Crises hit. Rubber prices collapsed to the point that it was not worth the effort to even bother to tap. The world had gone crazy. Then the wife phoned, she was pregnant. BAM BAM I was out for the count. Looked like it had all been for nothing.
What to do, I was broke and homeless, with a baby on the way. As much as I hated the idea it was back to jail full time. I took a post in a brand new, not even opened yet Prison. To call it a Prison would not do it justice, this was the new politically correct version of prison. Prisoners were no longer prisoners but clients. They were not there for punishment, but treatment, to address their behavioral problems. There were more Psychologists and clinicians than Prison Officers. Everyone was to be on a first name basis. It was to be all warm and fuzzy, everyone would be happy. Too top it all off the Government put the shrinks in charge and gave some of them uniforms and the rank, they were in charge and had to be obeyed. It was not going to be a happy place.
Most people with the IQ of a potato would agree that it is not a wise move to give violent prisoners access to weapons. In most prisons with self catering cottage units, cooking knives would have there points ground down and were secured to the sink area on a chain of some type. Not here, to do so would show the clients that we did not trust them. Needless to say that it wasn't long before the first client was lying in the yard bleeding out, after having been stabbed with a carving knife. All the shrinks, clinicians and even those who were allegedly the senior officers made a beeline to secure areas. The few real Prison Officers, were left to gain control with nothing, but their blue shirts for protection.
A few days later a De brief was held, pats on the back for all the clinical staff, for their efforts in arranging trauma counseling for the prisoners, but it had been noted that some of the uniformed staff had been heard using threatening language and in a few cases actually pushing and shoving prisoner into cells. No mention of anyone taking responsibility for allowing the availability of knives. This was the new order of PC appointed public servants, who took no responsibility for their actions.
I think this was shown very clearly some years later in the tragic Victorian bush fires. The 2 Government Ministers in change, were busy mowing grass or something. They couldn't be held responsible for the what went wrong. The Chief Commissioner of Police, who is in overall change of the states emergency services could not be held accountable. She was at lunch and had to have her hair done, while 170 plus people died.
GFC, baby's or not I could not stomach years of PC BS, we would be going home to our village, come hell or high water.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Big bills, bad food and mean women
Things continued on at the usual Thai pace, slow. We built a tree nursery and ordered tree grafts for next years planting. Money was going fast, with more bills everyday. Workers, scrub cutters [weed whackers] fuel, poison and I knew this was to be on going for many years to come. Having learned from my first tree planting, it would be different next time. I would higher bulldozers to clear the land, again not cheap. Add to that we were living in a up market hut, sleeping on a board on the bare concrete floor, no running water. Thailand may very well be a hot country and a cool shower is a pleasant relief from the heat, but getting up in the morning and throwing a bucket of what felt like ice water over your head is not what soft white men are used to. Some up grade to living standers was needed, more money. It would only be last year 2010 when we started tapping rubber for money that I would have the luxury of a hot shower.
Food was another unforeseen expense. You may venture down to your local Thai take away and think that Thai food is very good, not so in a village. One of the first things I noticed was the lack of bird life in the village. Any unwary bird who landed in long rife range was shot dead and in the pot. If it walked, crawled, swam or flew it was food. Frogs, snails, bugs. snakes, pretty well anything that was not poisonous would be dinner. This required a daily trip to Buntharik and the one restaurant that served eatable food. Even my wife found much of the food uneatable and hot. Over the years I have grown accustomed to much of the local food,but have to say I am still unable to sit down to a plate of fat ground dwelling bugs fried up and eaten with sticky rice.
The time had come to end our stay in the village and head back to the old world. One week of R and R on Koh Samui was to be our last holiday for many many years.
Back in good old Australia and the number one priority was employment. I didn't want to return to the Prison Service full time. I knew if I left again there would be no getting back in. Even though I had set my sights on life in Thailand, things can go wrong and an exit plan needed to be available. Here again fate played her hand. A friend who had become the Governor of the female prison asked if I was interested in working there. I explained that I was hoping to return to Thailand as soon as the bank looked healthy. He had the solution, seems that the women's prison had a very high staff turn over and that I could go on call as a casual Prison Officer. As a casual you can make yourself unavailable for up to a year and still remain on the books. It was perfect, the place was so short staffed that I often worked 6/12 hour days in a row. To be fair it wasn't a bad place to work, if it was not going to be your life, just a means to an end. I didn't care about the politics etc, just got my money and left. 4 months later we were back on the plane to Thailand. This is how we continued over the coming years, fly in, work and fly out. All was good, then the first baby was born, things would change.
Food was another unforeseen expense. You may venture down to your local Thai take away and think that Thai food is very good, not so in a village. One of the first things I noticed was the lack of bird life in the village. Any unwary bird who landed in long rife range was shot dead and in the pot. If it walked, crawled, swam or flew it was food. Frogs, snails, bugs. snakes, pretty well anything that was not poisonous would be dinner. This required a daily trip to Buntharik and the one restaurant that served eatable food. Even my wife found much of the food uneatable and hot. Over the years I have grown accustomed to much of the local food,but have to say I am still unable to sit down to a plate of fat ground dwelling bugs fried up and eaten with sticky rice.
The time had come to end our stay in the village and head back to the old world. One week of R and R on Koh Samui was to be our last holiday for many many years.
Back in good old Australia and the number one priority was employment. I didn't want to return to the Prison Service full time. I knew if I left again there would be no getting back in. Even though I had set my sights on life in Thailand, things can go wrong and an exit plan needed to be available. Here again fate played her hand. A friend who had become the Governor of the female prison asked if I was interested in working there. I explained that I was hoping to return to Thailand as soon as the bank looked healthy. He had the solution, seems that the women's prison had a very high staff turn over and that I could go on call as a casual Prison Officer. As a casual you can make yourself unavailable for up to a year and still remain on the books. It was perfect, the place was so short staffed that I often worked 6/12 hour days in a row. To be fair it wasn't a bad place to work, if it was not going to be your life, just a means to an end. I didn't care about the politics etc, just got my money and left. 4 months later we were back on the plane to Thailand. This is how we continued over the coming years, fly in, work and fly out. All was good, then the first baby was born, things would change.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Land, partys and diead guys
Things had been going along as well as could be expected. 30 Rai of trees had been planted, without the use of shovels or spades and we had bought another 20 plus Rai in 2 blocks. You never new how big a block of land was for sure, one would just walk around the land and have a guesstimate. For the buyer it was always smaller , to the seller larger.
Word had got around that a white man from the south was interested in land. The father in-law came to me with a man who had 50 Rai for sale and he wanted to sell fast. At that time and still to this day village law is enforced. The laws of Thailand take 2nd. place to the local ways. Seems this guy had done something wrong and had been judged. As punishment he had been expelled from his area. You may think, how could that be enforced by the locals. I will tell you if you are told to leave you leave, or you may go for a one way walk into the jungle. It is no use running to the police as there is no uniformed police presents out here to this day. The only time you will see police is when they are accompanied by border/ forestry soldiers. Needless to say that most of the police and soldiers are locals as well.
Next day we set off in the 2 village pick up trucks, loaded with beer, food and people, to see the land and have a picnic. After driving over dirt roads for half an hour , we stopped by a small river surrounded by jungle. Everyone out, beer and food collected and we cross the river and begin to walk further into the bush. When I was near collapse from the heat and the weight of the ice box full of beer we arrived.
The seller lived in a rough stilt house, with 3 walls a roof of rusty old sheet metal and plastic. He lived there with his wife and 2 children. I had thought that some of the huts in the village were basic to say the least, but this place would not have even qualified as a hut. Much of the land had been cleared and 1000s of Makkua Poung bushes planted. There were 2 small streams, it was perfect for rubber. The only problem was access, but was assured there was a dirt track in, it was just that the Headman had not wanted to bang his newish car up on it. The deal was done, a price agreed, all were happy.
That was it, the tree planting season had finished, the amount of land that I deemed to be enough to supply a reasonable living had been purchased and the bank account was not looking as health as a few months earlier. It was time to party.
Before I get to the party, it seems that the wifes Uncle had died 2 weeks prior. I was told that a tree fell on him. Many years later I found out that was not the truth. He had been killed in some form of illegal activity in Bangkok. What activity I have never been told.
All the workers, neighbors, Uncles, Aunts and people of some importance were invited to the party. The Lao Kao, 100 pipers and beer flowed. A small pig had been dispatched and was used to give burnt offerings to the gods on my BBQ. People came and went, other came and passed out. My memory of the night is some what dim, but I do recall dancing around the floor with a large and hopefully dead snake around my neck.
The next day and I am not feeling 100%, the daughter of the dead Uncle comes around and starts speaking to the wife. I could sense something was wrong and asked the wife is there a problem. She replied that the girls father was not happy as I had not given him any whiskey or pig last night. I said I thought he was dead. Yes said the wife, but he came to the party. I didn't know if she was pulling my leg or not and said I don't see dead people. The Mother and Father in-law were sitting at the table at the time , They all looked at me as if I had some sort of visual impairment, how could I have missed him, he was the only dead guy there. To this day whenever we have a party I ask the wife if any dead ones are coming. Then I can leave a drink and some food for them.
Word had got around that a white man from the south was interested in land. The father in-law came to me with a man who had 50 Rai for sale and he wanted to sell fast. At that time and still to this day village law is enforced. The laws of Thailand take 2nd. place to the local ways. Seems this guy had done something wrong and had been judged. As punishment he had been expelled from his area. You may think, how could that be enforced by the locals. I will tell you if you are told to leave you leave, or you may go for a one way walk into the jungle. It is no use running to the police as there is no uniformed police presents out here to this day. The only time you will see police is when they are accompanied by border/ forestry soldiers. Needless to say that most of the police and soldiers are locals as well.
Next day we set off in the 2 village pick up trucks, loaded with beer, food and people, to see the land and have a picnic. After driving over dirt roads for half an hour , we stopped by a small river surrounded by jungle. Everyone out, beer and food collected and we cross the river and begin to walk further into the bush. When I was near collapse from the heat and the weight of the ice box full of beer we arrived.
The seller lived in a rough stilt house, with 3 walls a roof of rusty old sheet metal and plastic. He lived there with his wife and 2 children. I had thought that some of the huts in the village were basic to say the least, but this place would not have even qualified as a hut. Much of the land had been cleared and 1000s of Makkua Poung bushes planted. There were 2 small streams, it was perfect for rubber. The only problem was access, but was assured there was a dirt track in, it was just that the Headman had not wanted to bang his newish car up on it. The deal was done, a price agreed, all were happy.
That was it, the tree planting season had finished, the amount of land that I deemed to be enough to supply a reasonable living had been purchased and the bank account was not looking as health as a few months earlier. It was time to party.
Before I get to the party, it seems that the wifes Uncle had died 2 weeks prior. I was told that a tree fell on him. Many years later I found out that was not the truth. He had been killed in some form of illegal activity in Bangkok. What activity I have never been told.
All the workers, neighbors, Uncles, Aunts and people of some importance were invited to the party. The Lao Kao, 100 pipers and beer flowed. A small pig had been dispatched and was used to give burnt offerings to the gods on my BBQ. People came and went, other came and passed out. My memory of the night is some what dim, but I do recall dancing around the floor with a large and hopefully dead snake around my neck.
The next day and I am not feeling 100%, the daughter of the dead Uncle comes around and starts speaking to the wife. I could sense something was wrong and asked the wife is there a problem. She replied that the girls father was not happy as I had not given him any whiskey or pig last night. I said I thought he was dead. Yes said the wife, but he came to the party. I didn't know if she was pulling my leg or not and said I don't see dead people. The Mother and Father in-law were sitting at the table at the time , They all looked at me as if I had some sort of visual impairment, how could I have missed him, he was the only dead guy there. To this day whenever we have a party I ask the wife if any dead ones are coming. Then I can leave a drink and some food for them.
Friday, June 24, 2011
The road to Thailand
At this point I may diverge from the Rubber story's and inform anyone who may accurately read this, a little more about me. My father had contracted the traveling bug at an early age, when he ran away to sea as a merchant seaman. Then came the army and postings around Southeast Asia.
After I was born in the UK he couldn't wait to leave the country, so at the tender age of 5 weeks we were bound for the wilds of British Columbia, Canada. Over the coming years we drifted east and when he ran out of land east, it was time to give the UK another try. On the way across Canada I had acquired 3 brothers and one sister.
The UK was not what he hoped it would have become, so off we went to the sunny shores of Australia, where another sister was born. I think my father would have moved again, but the thought of shifting 6 kids was just too much.
Now unlike my brothers and sisters, I had inherited the travel bug. This would see me living in different countries and jobs for much of my adult life. A thing I learnt early was that I did not like working. This lead me into Government employment, often in one type of uniform or other. It paid the bills, but after a time I became bored and the need to move on to newer things would overcome me and there was so many things to do and see. I knew that one life time would never be enough.
I have seen and done things that most only dream, chances missed, loves lost, but I would do it all again. Moments that can not be lost in time like tears in the rain. [Pardon my miss quote from Blade runner.]
At the rip old age of 44 I was in another uniform, but the bug was at me again. I knew that at that age good jobs were not easy to find. So I sold my house and quit the job, knowing that the Prison Service allowed you to return within 2 years. Loss of rank of course, but I really didn't care, I wanted one more adventure in my life, before I was too old to climb mountains enjoy drinking beer on a beach and see things, not just on the TV. That is how I found myself in Thailand.
After I was born in the UK he couldn't wait to leave the country, so at the tender age of 5 weeks we were bound for the wilds of British Columbia, Canada. Over the coming years we drifted east and when he ran out of land east, it was time to give the UK another try. On the way across Canada I had acquired 3 brothers and one sister.
The UK was not what he hoped it would have become, so off we went to the sunny shores of Australia, where another sister was born. I think my father would have moved again, but the thought of shifting 6 kids was just too much.
Now unlike my brothers and sisters, I had inherited the travel bug. This would see me living in different countries and jobs for much of my adult life. A thing I learnt early was that I did not like working. This lead me into Government employment, often in one type of uniform or other. It paid the bills, but after a time I became bored and the need to move on to newer things would overcome me and there was so many things to do and see. I knew that one life time would never be enough.
I have seen and done things that most only dream, chances missed, loves lost, but I would do it all again. Moments that can not be lost in time like tears in the rain. [Pardon my miss quote from Blade runner.]
At the rip old age of 44 I was in another uniform, but the bug was at me again. I knew that at that age good jobs were not easy to find. So I sold my house and quit the job, knowing that the Prison Service allowed you to return within 2 years. Loss of rank of course, but I really didn't care, I wanted one more adventure in my life, before I was too old to climb mountains enjoy drinking beer on a beach and see things, not just on the TV. That is how I found myself in Thailand.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Shovels and trees
The curse was cast and all I had to do was make it work. How hard could it be to give up everything you have , leave the world that you know, with it's security and order to start anew. There would be some small problems I knew, language, cultural and a mindset of the locals which was totally alien to my western ideas. I new nothing about rubber farming, but how hard could that be. You stick a load of trees in the ground, wait 7 years and your in the money, simple. Little did I realize the trials that awaited and the hours I would spend banging my head against a tree. Here things have been done this way or that for 100s of years and no silly Farang [ white man ] was going to change that.
We now had 30 Rai of land, 8 Acres or 3 Hectares. On the first day of planting I set off with my backpack to walk to the plantation. At this time I was still very fit and enjoyed hiking in the jungle or bush walking as we say in Australia. When I arrived at the land I stood stunned at what I saw. There in the field were 15 or so workers of unknown gender, they were all clad in heavy trousers, thick coats, wearing balaclavas and big straw hats. They would have been warm in the snow, never mind in the heat of the jungle. Add to that they were digging holes with little shovels, no more than 3 inches wide, made of bits of flat steel or pipe attached to a stick. Didn't know whether to laugh or cry, the whole scene reminded me of the kids TV show the Smurfs. This would never do as my plan was to plant 8000 trees over next few years.
Next day with wife in tow we headed to our nearest town Buntharik, about 27 km away. Now one would think that a shovel, not an uncommon tool anywhere in the world would be readily available in any town with a hardware shore. Not so in Buntharik, high tech tools like shovels had not made it here yet. So off we go to Det Udon, 50 or so km further on. Now Det is a biggest town around here and has many hardware stores, again we were shown little sticks with bits of steel attached. I was beginning to think the wife was not explaining what I was after. One more hardware store and silly Farang digging imaginary holes in the floor and the woman went and returned with a spade, it would have to do. Buying the entire store spade supply 5 we set of back to the plantation.
The workers were paid by the hole not the day, so you would think the introducing of this labor saving spade would have brought smiles all around, not so, blank looks were all I got. I picked up a spade, stabbed it into the ground, stood with my two feet on the back of the blade, wiggled it side to side until the blade cut deep into the ground, then pulled the handle back lifting a big piece of dirt from the ground. Still blank looks, as I was about to go and find a tree to bang my head against , the wife started talking to the workers. After what seemed like a hour of discussion she turns to me and says. Jim they are not stupid they know what a spade is, but they can't use it as they don't have boots. I looked to the ground and every worker had a pair of thin rubber sandals on. I won't go into the work boot saga, but suffice to say if you have never had a pair of shoes on in your life no Farang is going to get you to wear work boots.
We now had 30 Rai of land, 8 Acres or 3 Hectares. On the first day of planting I set off with my backpack to walk to the plantation. At this time I was still very fit and enjoyed hiking in the jungle or bush walking as we say in Australia. When I arrived at the land I stood stunned at what I saw. There in the field were 15 or so workers of unknown gender, they were all clad in heavy trousers, thick coats, wearing balaclavas and big straw hats. They would have been warm in the snow, never mind in the heat of the jungle. Add to that they were digging holes with little shovels, no more than 3 inches wide, made of bits of flat steel or pipe attached to a stick. Didn't know whether to laugh or cry, the whole scene reminded me of the kids TV show the Smurfs. This would never do as my plan was to plant 8000 trees over next few years.
Next day with wife in tow we headed to our nearest town Buntharik, about 27 km away. Now one would think that a shovel, not an uncommon tool anywhere in the world would be readily available in any town with a hardware shore. Not so in Buntharik, high tech tools like shovels had not made it here yet. So off we go to Det Udon, 50 or so km further on. Now Det is a biggest town around here and has many hardware stores, again we were shown little sticks with bits of steel attached. I was beginning to think the wife was not explaining what I was after. One more hardware store and silly Farang digging imaginary holes in the floor and the woman went and returned with a spade, it would have to do. Buying the entire store spade supply 5 we set of back to the plantation.
The workers were paid by the hole not the day, so you would think the introducing of this labor saving spade would have brought smiles all around, not so, blank looks were all I got. I picked up a spade, stabbed it into the ground, stood with my two feet on the back of the blade, wiggled it side to side until the blade cut deep into the ground, then pulled the handle back lifting a big piece of dirt from the ground. Still blank looks, as I was about to go and find a tree to bang my head against , the wife started talking to the workers. After what seemed like a hour of discussion she turns to me and says. Jim they are not stupid they know what a spade is, but they can't use it as they don't have boots. I looked to the ground and every worker had a pair of thin rubber sandals on. I won't go into the work boot saga, but suffice to say if you have never had a pair of shoes on in your life no Farang is going to get you to wear work boots.
The decision had been made and I was going for it, rubber was my out. I am a bit like a dog with a bone, I won't let go. The wife, Bell was a little less than enthusiastic about going all out in the rubber game. She was more than happy to buy the 15 Rai of Government land and plant rubber, but the idea of life in the village, had not filled her with joy . She had many valid points on her side, she was not a village girl, knew nothing about rubber, nor did her family. Rubber had only been recently introduced to this area and no one was sure if it would really be viable. I had a secure job, we had a nice car and lived in a nice house. Life for a Thai girl in Australia was good. She had Thai friends to talk to and my sisters treated her as a sister, taking her shopping and eating out. It was all fun from her side and she wanted children. In her mind the village would not be the place for babies. Australia had good schools, medical etc. I on the other hand had spent many years as a child growing up in rural Canada and felt that life in a jungle village would be magical compared to life in a city or worse suburbia. The decider was work, I said when we have a baby it will cost and she will have to work. As most of the Thai girls in Geelong work part time in Thai restaurants and have full time jobs in the chicken or fish factory. No way my wife was going to work gutting fish or killing chickens. A Buddha monk had told in when she was 16 teen. She would marry a man from far away who wore a uniform and she would live a easy life. She was sold, rubber would save her from 20 years of dead chickens.
A family conference was called, we or wife explained that we were going to try and make the big switch from visiting to living. Mother in-law was over the moon at the though her only daughter was coming home to stay. The Father in-law who by the way is employed by the Government as a county coroner [ not medical examiner ] was just happy that I said we would take over the payments on the pickup truck, as we would need to use it all the time. Now I was committed, it would be all or nothing. It was a win or die trying gamble and if you are afraid to die then you are afraid to live.
A family conference was called, we or wife explained that we were going to try and make the big switch from visiting to living. Mother in-law was over the moon at the though her only daughter was coming home to stay. The Father in-law who by the way is employed by the Government as a county coroner [ not medical examiner ] was just happy that I said we would take over the payments on the pickup truck, as we would need to use it all the time. Now I was committed, it would be all or nothing. It was a win or die trying gamble and if you are afraid to die then you are afraid to live.
Monday, June 20, 2011
There I sat on a wooden bench, a morally spent emotionally bankrupt Prison Officer watching dirt poor, but happy content villagers going about their day. Knowing that in a few short days we would be on a plane back to Australia. I pondered life the universe and everything. I was 44 years old and thanks to the wise Government I would be allowed to put on my blue suite for another 20 years so I could get a reasonable pension, or retire early [55 ]on a dog food and baked beans pension. I am no dreamer and knew that there was no way I could stay here and live a locals life. A diet of sticky rice, chilli paste, frogs and bugs while living in a hut and sleeping on a board was going to do, plus my wife would have been on the first plane back home. How could I make it work, there was enough money to last a few years at best, not an option as at the end of the money it would be back to Australia, older, broke and starting out again.
In life chance, fate or serendipity often pass us by, we are too busy to see it or too scared to try. On this day sernendipity walked in the house in the form of the Village head. The Village head actually spoke English and had acted as my cousin in the wedding. We opened a few beers and talked. He sad to me that I must be happy to be heading home soon, as he knew it is very hard for a Farang to stay in places like this. I said, I would be happy to live here if I could make a reasonable living. Hearing my reply he said, the Government is selling cheap land for the planting of Rubber trees. With those words Rubber Trees, memories of my father came to me. My Father had been in the British army for many years and was posted to Malaysia. He had always told me that the only reason he was there was to keep Dunlop Rubber's plantations safe. How could I say no to Rubber. Here was my get out of jail free card and it just might work. So began what would be a life changing journey.
In life chance, fate or serendipity often pass us by, we are too busy to see it or too scared to try. On this day sernendipity walked in the house in the form of the Village head. The Village head actually spoke English and had acted as my cousin in the wedding. We opened a few beers and talked. He sad to me that I must be happy to be heading home soon, as he knew it is very hard for a Farang to stay in places like this. I said, I would be happy to live here if I could make a reasonable living. Hearing my reply he said, the Government is selling cheap land for the planting of Rubber trees. With those words Rubber Trees, memories of my father came to me. My Father had been in the British army for many years and was posted to Malaysia. He had always told me that the only reason he was there was to keep Dunlop Rubber's plantations safe. How could I say no to Rubber. Here was my get out of jail free card and it just might work. So began what would be a life changing journey.
My village at that time.
Let me tell you a little of my village at that time, there were no televisions to speak of and people honestly believed they were rich. The rice fields produced more than enough for all, the trees were hung with friut and the rivers teemed with fish. No one went hungery. If hard times befell, your family and everyone was related in some way, would help. The village of about 370 homes had 2 cars, both pickup trucks. One owned by the father in law and the other by the village headman. Most people had never seen a white man and the children would run and hide or burst into tears when they saw me. The elderly would walk up and rub my arm to see if the colour came off. It was a place that time and even Coca cola had passed by, a hippies dream. Now I am no hippie far from it, at the time I was a Prison Officer in the State of Victoria, Australia and had worked for much of the time in the states maximum security prison. Those who say there are no monsters in this world, let me tell you there are.
At this point I will tell anyone who actually reads this a story. Short time before I came to Thailand I was involved in an incident which may have changed my life,
. While on duty in a place we referred to as under the house. An area which contained 26 the most vile specimens of human life that Australia can produce. At the time a one man post. The job of laundryman was given to a prisoner, said prisoner had a sentence of 25 years on the bottom, meaning no parole for 25 years. Now another prisoner who was never going home wanted that job. You may think in your world it is a dog eat dog world, but in this world it's real. Want to be laundryman thinks he can have the job if he kills the laundryman. I having many years experience in this and similar fields know that tension was high and that something was going down, so I place myself not at my desk, but in a place I can observe a wider area . Laundryman is on the phone not more than 3 feet [1 meter ] from me. Want to be laundry man is so focused on what he wants to do he doesn't even see me. Want to be laundryman then punches laundryman in the head. I of cause jump up to break up the fight. In the tussle we all ended up on the ground, which is when I notice that laundryman is spurting blood in my face. Want to be laundryman had not punched laundryman, but stabbed him in the throat with a shive [ knife ]. fight or flight reflexes come into place and I began to smash want to be laundrymans head into the floor until he stopped moving and I get the shive. Little did I know that laundry man also had a shiv as well. There is no capital punishment in Australia, so if either had stabbed and killed me the worst that could have happened to them, except for some rough treatment by other Officers is the loss of TV for 30 days. Here is the crux of this story, it is compulsory after an incident to see the shrink [ psychologist ] which I duly attended the next day after filling in all the paper work. The shrink went over the incident with me and said how do you feel. I said I have been involved and seen worst things and feel fine, just another day on the job. he then said something that made me sit and think for a long time afterward. A NORMAL PERSON WOULD NOT FEEL FINE.
Let me tell you a little of my village at that time, there were no televisions to speak of and people honestly believed they were rich. The rice fields produced more than enough for all, the trees were hung with friut and the rivers teemed with fish. No one went hungery. If hard times befell, your family and everyone was related in some way, would help. The village of about 370 homes had 2 cars, both pickup trucks. One owned by the father in law and the other by the village headman. Most people had never seen a white man and the children would run and hide or burst into tears when they saw me. The elderly would walk up and rub my arm to see if the colour came off. It was a place that time and even Coca cola had passed by, a hippies dream. Now I am no hippie far from it, at the time I was a Prison Officer in the State of Victoria, Australia and had worked for much of the time in the states maximum security prison. Those who say there are no monsters in this world, let me tell you there are.
At this point I will tell anyone who actually reads this a story. Short time before I came to Thailand I was involved in an incident which may have changed my life,
. While on duty in a place we referred to as under the house. An area which contained 26 the most vile specimens of human life that Australia can produce. At the time a one man post. The job of laundryman was given to a prisoner, said prisoner had a sentence of 25 years on the bottom, meaning no parole for 25 years. Now another prisoner who was never going home wanted that job. You may think in your world it is a dog eat dog world, but in this world it's real. Want to be laundryman thinks he can have the job if he kills the laundryman. I having many years experience in this and similar fields know that tension was high and that something was going down, so I place myself not at my desk, but in a place I can observe a wider area . Laundryman is on the phone not more than 3 feet [1 meter ] from me. Want to be laundry man is so focused on what he wants to do he doesn't even see me. Want to be laundryman then punches laundryman in the head. I of cause jump up to break up the fight. In the tussle we all ended up on the ground, which is when I notice that laundryman is spurting blood in my face. Want to be laundryman had not punched laundryman, but stabbed him in the throat with a shive [ knife ]. fight or flight reflexes come into place and I began to smash want to be laundrymans head into the floor until he stopped moving and I get the shive. Little did I know that laundry man also had a shiv as well. There is no capital punishment in Australia, so if either had stabbed and killed me the worst that could have happened to them, except for some rough treatment by other Officers is the loss of TV for 30 days. Here is the crux of this story, it is compulsory after an incident to see the shrink [ psychologist ] which I duly attended the next day after filling in all the paper work. The shrink went over the incident with me and said how do you feel. I said I have been involved and seen worst things and feel fine, just another day on the job. he then said something that made me sit and think for a long time afterward. A NORMAL PERSON WOULD NOT FEEL FINE.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
My name is James [ Jim ] Collister and this is my tale of life in a small village in the southeast corner of Issan Thailand. I came to be here as most westerners do by virtue of a girl. My wife had lived most of her life in a city near Bangkok, she had been sent there at the age of 9 years old to live with her Aunt and attend school. I met her in her last year of University, where she was completing her teaching degree. A whirlwind romance ensued and we were married and ran of to live in Australia. Much to the disappointment of her Mother and Father. After much pleading etc we decided to return to Thailand and have a Buddhist wedding in the village.
We arrived by plane in the City of Ubon Ratchitani and rented a car and driver for the 7 hour drive over pot holes, dirt roads and goat tracks. As we drove the clock turned back until we arrived somewhere in the 18 th century in the village of Ban Sang Hom or the village of the sweet smelling well water. I could see that my wife was having second thoughts about the whole thing The village was nothing but a couple of concrete roads and dirt tracks with rough wood stilt huts, no running water and only a few huts had electricity, It was hot and the air was full of bugs, then add to that few people spoke Thai, this is Lao country and the wife didn't speak Lao, but we were here and the job needed done so all could regain face.
The wedding took place, as can be seen on my Youtube channel and my wife Bell , was happy to leave and return to eatable food, running water and hot showers. I on the other hand had been sitting in the night drinking beer and listening to the sounds of the jungle. I had found my Shangra La, this was were I wanted to live.
We arrived by plane in the City of Ubon Ratchitani and rented a car and driver for the 7 hour drive over pot holes, dirt roads and goat tracks. As we drove the clock turned back until we arrived somewhere in the 18 th century in the village of Ban Sang Hom or the village of the sweet smelling well water. I could see that my wife was having second thoughts about the whole thing The village was nothing but a couple of concrete roads and dirt tracks with rough wood stilt huts, no running water and only a few huts had electricity, It was hot and the air was full of bugs, then add to that few people spoke Thai, this is Lao country and the wife didn't speak Lao, but we were here and the job needed done so all could regain face.
The wedding took place, as can be seen on my Youtube channel and my wife Bell , was happy to leave and return to eatable food, running water and hot showers. I on the other hand had been sitting in the night drinking beer and listening to the sounds of the jungle. I had found my Shangra La, this was were I wanted to live.
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