June 04, 2004

Some Village Life Tales
Part Five : Laughing Elephant, Whining Farang

When I had finally arrived in the village that trip, after stopping for gas, playing chicken with a couple of water buffalo or three, honking at every Buddha spirit house along the way, and killing at least two million grasshoppers with the windshield, I was truly exhausted and beat from the harrowing drive up from Surin. I was happy to be home at last, but the drive up is a killer. I have to buy myself a nice, big, Ford pick-up when I eventually move here for good. Four wheel drive, and extended cab, with leg room for a giraffe, or at least a normal sized western man. My motorcycle knee is killing me. (I damaged my left knee years ago in a high speed motorcycle accident.) Frig these tiny midget Jap pick-ups! Give me a nice monster-sized Detroit vehicle any day.

The extended family, and friends and neighbors, all come strolling over to the truck when we first arrived, yakking and laughing with my ladies. Sawadee krups and kas are called out, and wais abound all around me. Who do I wai first? The older guy? The older lady? Family first? Mama? She's pretty old! She's also the one who could possibly cause me the most grief if I
insult her unknowingly. I go with wai-ing Mama, then her old wrinkled monkey-face sister. Respect the family first I say! I always forget this pecking order face thing stuff anyway. Screw it! Everyone else gets a booming, "Hi! How you all doing? Glad to see ya. Yeah, Sawadee Krup to you too, my man." I wave hello to them all. Who do you wai first? Second? Third? I've got wais flying at me from every which way. My falang brain freezes up sometimes when faced with these potential loss of face situations. I wish the hell I could remember all the things I should do, or shouldn't do. These Thai Buddhists should lighten up with all this face stuff. Gives me a goddamned complex sometimes. God I hate being a dumb uncivilized falang.

We unloaded the pickup, opened the house up, and stored the groceries and such, and unpacked our bags. Damn it's hot! I quickly uncrated my newest prize, the oscillating, ice and water cooled, a/c fan thingie. The 2,900 baht version. "Look sow, go buy some nam kaeng, (ice, basically it means hard water) okay?" I tell my daughter, giving her some baht, wanting to quickly put this new treasure to the test. "And some beer Chang too!" I yell after her, while peeking in the refrige, and noticing it is as bare as a shower-show gogo dancer's bum. Dammit! Can't anyone leave me a couple of ice cold beers at least?

I checked out the work that'd been done to the house. Almost done. More freakin' painting is in order, and the new ceiling still has to be hung. The bathroom ceiling is much higher now, as I'd asked to be done my previous trip up. Sis asks me what I want to eat. She wants to cook me a steaming hot plate of hot pepper laced chicken fried rice. Just what I want in the 95 degree heat. Not. I tell her "No, not for me. I'm gonna make some falang food for me. Thanks anyway." I make a couple of cheese and pepper laced baloney sandwiches with mustard for myself, while she cooks up their rice and stuff. I wash them down with one of the semi-cold beer Chang's my daughter has brought back for me.

We settled in to the rhythm of daily village life. People coming and going, wandering in and chatting a while, and walking out without as much as a by your leave. I commented once about this to my lady. I aked her, "Darling, how come village Thai people don't say goodbye when they leave?" "What you mean, darling?" she throws back, with a slight wrinkle in her brow. "Well, in America if you were visiting someone in their house when you leave you'd say goodbye, lah gone krup, arriva derci, adios, chiao, see ya later alligator, something. Here they'll be talking to you one minute, and then just turn around and walk out the door. What gives with that?" "Village not same same Ahmelika. Just do." she informs me with a sagacious look."I know that dear. But WHY?" I beseech in my ignorance to her. "Don't know." she says, with a shrug and a smile. Anyone know why this is? Bad luck? What? I've still not gotten a satisfactory answer for this behavior. I've never seen this anywhere else in the world I've been. Now I usually say "lah gone krup" (goodbye) to the retreating back of anyone doing this to me, and usually get a startled look back at me, and a quick "Lah gone kaaa" as they leave. Most puzzling.

The next day started as another village life day. My future homicide victim, the village bossman, woke me with his quiet commie babble morning propaganda at 5 a.m.! I wish I had some wire cutters, and was tempted to go throttle him at his microphone. With my luck though I figured, as I was murdering the son of a bitch, the microphone would get jammed on the on position, and the whole village would aurally bear witness to my crime. Hearing my enraged muttering over the speakers,
"Thiiis...issss...thheee...laaaast...frrrrrriiiiikin'......tiiiime.... you'llll....waaake.... meeee......uuuuuuuup.......yoooooou........ stuuuuupid....sonnnnnnn ....offffffff.....aaaaaa.....biiiiiiiiitch!" as I slowly, and gleefully, with unfettered enthusiasm I might add, strangle the goddamned life outta him! Instead I mash my pillow over my head, swearing, and grudgingly drift back to sleep 'til a decent hour. Like 9 or 10! I get a mite grumpy without my full dose of beauty sleep.
I finally dragged my aging, sleep interrupted, carcass out of bed when the a/c thingy, which worked quite well during the previous evening, started blowing steamy heat from its overworked vents. It works great when full of ice and cold water. Not so great when the ice has melted, and the water has nearly reached the boiling point. My lady spots me stumbling towards the
hong nam (bathroom, literally "water room") like an early awakened hibernating grizzly bear, and asks me what I'd like for breakfast. "Kow tom guy, darlin', and nom yen please." (rice soup with chicken, and cold water to drink) I mumble politely, and continue on to do my morning toilet business.

While eating my breakfast later I noticed all the ladies are in a festive mood and chitterin' away like mad in their jazz-speak. Everyone seems awfully happy and excited. Hmmmm. "What's going on?", as the song asked. Marvin Gaye, I think. Could be wrong. I ask my lass what's up. "Village boy make monk today!" she informs me, grinning. Today one of the village teens was entering the monkhood from what I gathered from her. Big merit and face for his family, and for the village. Sounds like a party could be brewing here possibly I think. Good! I jes loves a party! Especially a village party! None better. 350 families, or close to it anyway, all buzzed on homemade rice wine, and lao kao whiskey, and beers. Pretty lasses dancing about to an over powered monster stereo system blasting Lao/Thai music, giggling and sipping rice wine, and the guys all sitting around shit-faced, drinking whiskey, and playing cards on a gambling mat. Looks like a rough night ahead. Cool!

A little later as I'm kicking back, sucking on a beer and listening to the new Santana c.d., my lady and look sow come running in all excited, and tell me to get up and come outside with them. "What?" I ask chuckling, somewhat caught up in their excitement as they drag me outside to the street. "Chang, chang!" my daughter cries, pointing. I look down the road where she's flapping her hand towards, and there I see the biggest damned bull elephant, with huge tusks, ambling down the middle of the street.

He's all painted up with voodoo magic signs, and dressed in silk, with a saddle on top. A leather skinned, bare chested, lean old mahout's driving him, sitting behind his huge flapping ears, and in the saddle chair is the kid who's becoming a monk today. People, mostly girls, are running out of the houses and throwing stuff up to the kid as he passes along the street. Looked like plastic bags filled with sugar, or salt, or something. The kid tries to catch these gifts. Everyone's laughing and cheering, and shouting encouragement to the kid.

The elephant comes up to our place, and now I can see how huge he really is. This one's a big mutha! Must be good luck having this big of a Chang for your going to monkhood ride. "Holy shit! Get him away from our truck!" I think to myself, as he turns and looks me right in the eye, while stopping next to the truck, and turning his huge head toward my house. You could actually see the wheels turning in his head. "A smart old bugger this one." my mind told me. His presence was overwhelming, and his life force palpable. A majestic beast he. I was awed and humbled by his power and presence. A moving moment for me.

For him too obviously, as he laid a huge poop right next to my truck. Right next to the driver's side door. He turned away and continued ambling down the road. I swear I could hear him laughing.

After a few stunned moments I turned to my lady and said, "Well, who the hell is gonna clean that up?" In her most perfect English, she said, grinning at me,"Not me!", and turned and walked inside the house giggling. Sigh.

Click Here For Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

(to be continued tomorrow)