2011 11 04
Big ol' Thai-style sockdolager of a storm at around 0130hrs.
As I stood on my patio watching and listening I couldn't help musing that as a younger man, and with adequate eyesight, I'dve donned a slicker of some style and gone for a walk in a storm such as this; better yet as I muse a bit more, forget the damn slicker, I'd rather tackled 'er in the altogether, Natural Man that I am. Since I wasn't up to any such doings as that I took the opportunity to include my two cents worth by adding my personal watery contribution to the downpour. Very satisfying, if a tad unsanitary.
It's easy to understand how our hominid ancestors, with a burgeoning consciousness of the world they occupied, would be terrified, mystified and finally, "spiritualized", by the utterly pervasive nature of big-ass T-storm.
2010 06 26
Living on a side-street in Pattaya, Thailand presents a marked contrast to anywhere I've lived in America, be it urban or rural.
I live in a “row house” that is connected on both sides to the houses adjacent. To the north I share a common wall and whenever the neighbors hang a picture I get to hear the nails going in. On the south I am bounded by the neighbor's garage, a blessing in that they seldom park inside. My front door opens unto a large patio that spans the front of the house. This patio is floored by the white tile that is seen everywhere in Thailand. When it rains, which is often, these tiles become dangerously slick and rather challenging to walk upon. The patio opens onto the street, kept at bay by a spike-topped swinging gate.
Upon entering the house you will find yourself in a longish, narrow living room dominated by a small Buddhist shrine to your immediate left and the television set directly in front of you, roughly 8 paces inward. The next thing you'll notice is the dark piping encircling the room about three feet up from the floor. I put this in place to break the monotonous whiteness of the stone walls and tile floor. The contrast is very helpful in orienting my vision which otherwise would be overwhelmed by the white-on-white walls to floor continuity.
The living room opens to a narrow passage that grants access to the bathroom on the left and the bedroom that runs parallel to the living room. Continuing through the passage there is a second bedroom on the right, used mostly for storage. To the left is a wide space that houses the clothes closet and laundry area.
Proceeding further brings you into the large, commodious kitchen. There is a handy double sink (though equipped with only one immovable faucet), two refrigerators (only one of which is actually cold), wide areas of counter tops and enough floor space to waltz upon. The entire upper wall of this kitchen is open brickwork composing 84, 2” x 5” apertures onto the alley beyond. When it rains the droplets spatter against these openings and bounce into the kitchen making for a predictable necessity of mopping up thereafter.
Bathrooms in Thailand are interesting in that the entire room is generally the shower area. Sunk three inches below the rest of the floor they simply allow the water to drain away and if the toilet seat gets a little wet, no matter since you are likely to make use of the convenient hand-held bidet that is a standard feature in Thai bathrooms.
We once had a 10x12 foot throw rug in the living room but quickly decided that it was more nuisance than attractive because it proved to be an annoyingly efficient grit collector. This is a very dusty sort of country and we sweep the tile floors at least twice a day and wet-mop daily. This attention guarantees a consistently sparkling household and healthy environment.
All in all, I would say that my house is, in the words of Crosby, Stills and Nash, “a very, very fine house." ------30------
2011 04 15
The Stranger was dressed like a refugee from a 1940's film noir movie set. From the slightly cocked fedora down to the recently polished but now rather scuffed wingtip shoes he appeared to have been deposited in Thailand straght out of central casting. While affecting an outward appearance of nonchalant confidence, he nevertheless betrayed a certain questioningly apprehensive aura. What he was doing in East Pattaya was anybody's guess.
He appeared to have an agenda as he looked around with an inquisitive eye. Having no command of the local language he was reduced to signing his way about the neighborhood but was able to establish his desire to make acquaintance with a local boss-man by the name of Mui. Mui it turns out was expecting him and when they were brought together huddled up in private with the fellow for what seemed to be a rather intense chat. Upon conclusion the stranger no longer appeared quite so bewildered and set off on the back of a motorbike taxi for a destination further east, toward the Mabprachan reservoir nearby.
This reservoir was bounded on its northern side by a world-class golf course which frequently hosted internationally recognized tournaments. The reservoir also featured some renowned game fish, notable for their elusive ability to not be caught. The “nine-teenth hole” bar and restaurant was a natural place for the stranger to begin his quest to discover the identity of the person Mui had hired him to find.
Realising that his attire was inappropriate to the environment in which he found himself, the stranger checked into a local guest-house and then set about the task of buying some colorful shirts and shorts that were more in keeping with the native attire. Now, no longer looking like a cheap gumshoe from America's past, he began spending time at the “Welcome to See You” bar at the golf course. While he still pretty much looked and acted like an expatriate misfit, he nevertheless was successful at gaining the inebriate confidence of the cadre of regulars at this establishment. Not much of what he garnered from these talkative, but mostly ill-informed and overly opinionated barflys, proved to be of any value to the stranger. All he really had to go on was that his quarry was a pro-am golfer and an avid fisherman. He would have to keep hanging around around until a good golf moment was recounted or perhaps a Jonah-like fish tale became the topic of the evening's typically meandering conversational unfolding.
As it turns out, the stranger didn't have all that long to wait. Along about 7:30 on the third night of his vigil at the bar in rolls a ruddy-faced palooka, loud but not necessarily obnoxious, bragging about not only having managed a hole-in-one on the par three fifth hole, but, against all odds having caught the largest freshwater catfish ever seen in Pattaya. This claim would be disputed but for the moment he was in his glory, vastly enjoying being the center of attention.
Needless to say, the stranger knew his man at once. The golfing fisherman was escorted to Mui's place where he apologetically paid off his tab of 500 baht. Why it took an apparent Hollywood has-been to achieve resolution to this minor matter remains a mystery. Upon completion of his “errand” the stranger nodded to Mui and headed downtown for a stiff drink before boarding a bus for Bangkok.
