Life in the Village

[Loy Toy]

I'll be back with the normal people of Pattaya...did I say that? - gawd my standards have hit rock bottom.

FFS! I just greened ya and now have to change that to a red compliments of the good people of Pattaya.

[keda]

Great thread Keda and thanks for sharing.

I have tried going bush once and hyper-ventilated within the first few days. Needed a paper bag and there wasn't any around (and for miles).

Gotta give it to those that can make the changeover and expect they also enjoy the experience.

My wife and I have 10 Rai of land up at Utteradit, Pichit about 1 hours drive from Pitsanaluk and we were only talking about doing something up there today. Lovely land with great views but am I ready.

Got some real good Thai friends in Pitchit and go there whenever the UK contingency comes over...will buzz you on next trip but was there couple of weeks ago so unlikely for another month or two.

[Andrew Hicks]

Today my 'Thai girl's' building yet again so like me I'm sure you'll need it.

More fockin advertising from sad, can't sell my jeep. bastard.

How does this help sell my jeep?

Sad? Moi?

I'm now awaiting your post number 6,442.

[jandajoy]

Here it is.......

[English Noodles]

Here it is.......

Stop trolling a good thread.

[keda]

Life in the Village - 06 - Dragon Fruit

Government workers are a boon to the village, and make a significant contribution to its economic survival.

Every village in the country has a kindergarten or primary school, usually staffed by its own people. Here there are also quite a few teachers for its secondary school, which serves 4 neighbouring villages.

Credit goes to none other than...



HM, for His generous wish to provide a secondary school for the village on a visit many years ago. We can only speculate whether it was already known before His command that the land would be donated by a local baron, the cost of building and upkeep by the government, with much like everything else kudos following the path of least resistance. Still, the villagers can't get over what a great bloke He is, and it goes without saying that the same applies to everyone I know, in Thailand.

Seems the land for the school was volunteered by one of Pasat's ancestors, which may or may not be why decades later part of the favour was recalled for him to become police chief.

There are also some villagers that commute to Sakon and Pang Khorn, and others like Kim's father, who stays at his government workplace in Sakon during the week, returning to the village at weekends.

Oh yes, and six cops to keep the peace after the occasional drunken buddy beef. Only rare accidents because little traffic, though there was a pickup on its side in a field one afternoon last week, its sozzled owner stupefied as to how it got there, because all he tried to do was a 9-point turn on an elevated cow track sandwiched by rice fields rather than drive 150 meters for a 2-pointer. How he managed to get it through a wide ditch and clear into the field is quite another matter, and lost to oblivion.

Aside from alcohol related hassles crime is rare to nonexistent, nothing more serious than the annual or so minor theft committed by outside raiders, usually after some binge, and these are routinely rounded up because their only escape route takes them through villages which are closed off by the local bobbies long before they arrive. The only time I have seen the police do anything more than drive or strut around pretending to look officious is at village fetes, when they lead the procession with the police pickup, or when someone dies.

Lost count but six or seven in the past four months; 44-year old wakes up dead, bit of a shock but police have to check he died of natural causes, which a visiting doctor later confirms so they can burn the evidence at the local crematorium. One drunk motosaist died after leaving the road, which had the local constabulary in ours and nearby villages out in droves to enforce the wearing of helmets over the next couple of days. The others were elderly and ailing, with another expected to go last week so make that this week, but police still need to make a presence because when the formalities are over there's free food and drink.

During the 'clampdown' they stopped me with Kim, she tutted when one said 100 baht as we slowed down, I spotted Metsak smiling smugly, pointed at him and offered 200 if he could catch me, spun around and zipped off. Epilogue: Seems Metsak told...




...police chief Pasat what happened, he visited next day and told me off. He said I should not have driven away - I should have stayed because they were just about to open some more of their off road Leo.

Many families in the village have some form of income generation beyond rice. It may be any combo of a home front store, cows, buffalo, fruit or veg spread mostly for domestic sale/consumption, an agriculture machine or two for hire, market stall or other business in the city.

There is also a minibus school run to Sakon, an 11-seater that comfortably seats 18 13-16 yr old kids at 1400 baht per month. That's a fair income for the 110-120km round trip on school days, because the owner needs to make just one daily round trip rather than two, with some mini-business in the city between drop-off and pickup.

Then the village school truck run...



...97 kids last counted at 10 baht each for the return trip covering 2 villages (round trip 30km) along the superhighway. Am told the bus went off the road once after heavy rain, but nobody was hurt so it was business as usual next day. Never had a serious incident, but should one occur the driver will no doubt say sorry and pile ‘em just as high the next day, charging 15 baht to cover his exes.

Going the other way is a songtaew...



...serving 32 kids at last count (29 at back + 3 in front), also 10 baht a head for the return trip covering 2 villages.

There are also 3 mills in the village charging 10 baht per sack of rice, though a side extra is the chaff which can be used or sold off as chicken feed.

One woman cooks various takbaht concoctions at 10 baht per bag (see: Takbaht), and there’s a market every 5th and 19th dubbed the Paragon, comprising a few makeshift stalls selling things nobody really wants or needs, and some larger clothing stalls that do little business because everyone already has a shirt and shorts and slippers. Still, nobody goes hungry, everyone makes a living, and market days are welcomed as a break from the monotony of village life.


My adopted family's spread is a bit downmarket but about average in village disparity and improving since the farang appeared. They have about 2.5 rai, and after the house and veggie patch this leaves about 1.5 rai of scruffy growth to jungle, with some fruit and other trees scattered randomly, wherever they took root.

We have 6 healthy papaya trees, and it's fascinating how these things work and the volume of fruit they produce.



If you need papaya for som tum or tum Thai, take your pick and rap it with a bamboo pole, then dive for cover because they're rock hard and a tumbler from just a couple of meters can render shoulders inoperable for quite a while; trust me on that. Anyway, take as many as you want, because those removed make way for those to come and the trees just keep producing, especially ours for some reason, which are more fruitful that any others I've seen.



We have far more papaya than we need, and sometimes ma sells them. The buyer comes along with her own bamboo cane and ancestral scales, chooses what she wants for the local market, knocks them off the tree, gathers them in a bag, and brings them to the house where ma joins her for sorting and weighing. First they separate the fruit by size, small and large, and then weigh the small ones, piling them on at 3 baht per kilo whilst critically eyeing the scales over the customary chat, each pretending their attention is focussed on whatever they're yakking about. When the small papaya are weighed and agreed, they attend to the larger ones. These are priced individually, at 3 baht per kilo.

There are also a couple of lime trees, a lamyai, some banana, one mango tree now that the other has gone (see below), a mangosteen tree that sprouted from a seed discarded in their biodegradable rubbish tip and should start producing in a couple of years, a fair size veggie patch for the property, eggplant, and a scattering of chilli and other bushes and herbs and edible leaf producing shrubs.

Kim recently purchased 2.5 rai directly behind the house (see: Rice).



The family also own some 2.5 rai of rice land about 3 km away, part of a larger spread handed down and carved up by several children over the generations. This has been covering their domestic needs over the decades, usually with a few surplus bags they sell each year, thanks to some ancestor getting the right idea when the government was giving away lots of land a century or something ago, who scammed his way into a tidy parcel of the available freebie. Almost all of their total 5 rai is devoted to khao neow, or sticky rice.

Early on I started looking for ways to improve their lot, and as a personal challenge to develop the unproductive eyesore of rampant growth behind the house, and also between the veggie patch and the road, hopefully with a long term earner.

When I suggested buying some cows, the offer was shot down by Ai due to lack of enthusiasm. On second thoughts cows need a dependable herder on their daily trek for green, so that's a definite no-no. I would have taken it on myself, for something to do, and would probably enjoy thwacking some rumps with a stick to keep the beasts on course, but somebody else would need to attend to their other needs, and anyway I don't expect to be here over the long haul so it wouldn't be fair to dump it on the family when we return to Pattaya.

Chickens? I considered using the back land for a chicken spread. Not much work to do, just build some cover and fence it in, and they'd soon convert the jungle into useful chicken shit for the veggie patch. Next, we could buy 20 or 30 to start with and take it from there, hopefully to eventually have a few hundred.

Put it to Kim...nope! - they used to have chickens but the women grew too attached and couldn't bear to part with them knowing they would end up on someone's menu. Also, as with most other things, chickens are too much like hard work for Ai; much easier to laze around like the world owes him a living and ponce off his infuriatingly tolerant parents.

Some time before I had tested the water by picking up a couple of large live ones at the chicken farm a couple of villages away, hoping to start them off small and then flood them if anyone latches on to the concept. Went wrong early...ma's face dropped when I told her what was in the bag, and that was the last time I saw those chickens, alive. She rattled off some instructions to Ai, then hopped on the bike and headed for the mountain to pick mushrooms for the evening's chicken Isaan. Seems they were fair game, because they hadn't been around long enough for her to bond with.

A pond? The neighbours have a pond at the back of their house, and the fish growing in its muddy water are right at home there. Small fish, little to no attention after a sprinkle of feed every few days, provides for the family and a few extra baht come in from sales. Kim liked the idea, and found out it would cost nothing to dig a pond because the diggers would do it free in return for the earth, but it looked as though that was as far as anyone was going with it. I wasn't keen to push it because I know nothing at all about fish or the environment, and in any case don't expect to be here much longer, so if as likely something went wrong nostalgia would kick in and the farang would be held responsible for the great big hole behind the house where before they had a suai jungle.

A mill? It would cost about 100-150k. There are already 3 mills in the village and one right next door, which does the family's rice free because they're neighbours and long time friends. It was a long shot but I was getting desperate for something to do, and considered it better to research and later drop the idea than not to consider it at all. I began by asking Kim if she thought a mill might go down well, seeing as there was so much spare land at the back. Nope, cannot, because there's one next door and they'd be upset, and anyway the village mills all charge 10 baht so how could we get any business by charging more. I agreed, and suggested we could start a price war by charging less, 3 bags of rice for 20 baht, or even 5 baht per bag. Well, apparently it's been 10 bt per bag since she was a kid and everyone knows it's 10 baht per bag so we shouldn't tamper, which is how my feasibility study started and ended inside a minute.

Dragon fruit? No fortunes to be had, but there are a few small patches of dragon fruit in and around the village. They look easy enough to grow, being cacti and sturdy, and I like them anyway, so did some research and figured it shouldn't be too involved because once the roots take hold they're undemanding and sort of get on with growing, as long as they receive plenty of sun and light and are not hemmed in by taller plants or each other, which is why their climbing posts should be in a clearing and a couple of meters apart.

For me it was a fine excuse to get rid of the sprawling unproductive mango tree and lychee tree behind the house, which for the past 20-something years have been a conveniently shaded dumping ground for junk that might be used at some future time but needs a place to rest until then. Their position was also strategic, as they rendered useless a surprisingly large area that could be used productive.

So dragon fruit it was. As they like to climb, the best way to grow them is around posts. Concrete was recommended, though most village gardens growing them sport various size and shaped wooden posts, which are free. The popular height is 2m with about 30cm of that underground.

Whether concrete or wood, a horizontal cross at the top accommodates a tyre, for discipline when they reach there, and 4 cuttings tethered around the bottom of the post will happily find their way to the top and squirm through and around the tyre and then back towards earth.

I took it a step further by drawing a diagram, and suggested experimenting with a wire trellis between the tyres, which should theoretically allow the plants further growth as they spread towards each other and mingle before reaching for the ground. This idea was immediately shot down for being abstract, because the posts weren't up yet so nobody could visualise a trellis, and anyway it had never been done like that before so I shouldn't try to impose farang skills like thinking. Still, that's what will happen when the plants near the top of the posts, period.

They're prickly buggers so do watch out because try to be clever and your hand will intuitively fly in all directions at the same time before seeking comfort in your crotch. Nobody I know has been careless more than once.

Next, we decided to steer well clear of...



...who might grudgingly agree to do some of the work if pressed hard enough, but it would be half-hearted and in any case he would stop the moment he could manufacture however implausible a distraction, and his parents would not protest because he's trained them well. Kim sees it from the sidelines, won't get involved, but admits it's not a new phenomenon and he's been like that for years. That said, there's no animosity between them, and as a good Buddhist she accepts things as they are and knows nothing she can do will change it. Fine by me.

Whatever, this meant our choices were whittled down to concrete posts, because though lumber was lying about the yard and can anyway be scrumped from nearby government lands there was nobody to trim it to a suitable size and shape. We also needed someone to do the ground work, which I hoped might shame bro into a sweat. And of course concrete posts are neater and more aesthetically pleasing to the farang.

Then of course the biggest obstacle - selling the project to her father. He's a pleasant enough guy and a diligent worker, but not easy to install new ideas to a traditionalist, has form for stubbornness and generally likes to keep things as they are because that's the way they are. He makes the decisions, nobody argues, but…long before my appearance it seems he had mentioned to ma that he's thinking to plant more banana, one day. Useful intel.

Step 1, joined him in the veggie patch...



...here it is after weeks of hard work digging and removing roots in prep for the next planting.

Step 2, brought up chickens, more papaya, and of course bananas as miscellaneous ideas, knowing he would take to at least the last one. Unfortunately it hasn't passed beyond the concept stage, despite Kim's standing offer (all offers go through her) to pay for however many of whatever plants he wants at the back of the house, just to see that space being used. Fair enough, he's no slouch, most of his spare time is spent in the veggie patch or other things that need doing around the house, and he'll get around to it. Important was to let him know we had designs on at least some of the back land.

As both of them appreciate my existence, we used my 'in' by totally ignoring them when we brought Kevin along as the innocent farang that's not yet in tune with protocol, to show him what we wanted. Instructions through an uneasy Kim, with pa hovering on the side, were to remove the obstructive trees, clear and prepare the land, dig twenty 30cm holes for the posts 2 meters apart, plant and secure the posts, add and secure the tyres, and then plant the cuttings. For me it was as simple as that, though I later learned just how much graft that actually entailed.

Dad walked off without saying anything, and Kim sighed, saying that's his way of giving the nod. Later, he grumbled that it was nice of us to offer to help out and he appreciates it, but he's never asked for or been given help by anyone and feels awkward to start now. Same goes for the brush cutter, and her (our) offer to pay for whatever else he needs to ease the enormous task of preparing the back end for use. I expected resistance somewhere along the line, though not on these grounds, which is a far cry from some of the horror stories we hear; good people.

I asked how long, Kevin smiled and said 3-4 days, I asked about tools and yes he has a saw and a machete and some digging implements. Couldn't resist a chuckle, then realised nobody else was laughing because it seems 3-4 days was about right with those tools and a couple kilos of sweat. I asked if anyone has a chain saw we could use, and even offered to buy one, the fully grown sterile trees an impossible task to hopeless me. No need, he said, as all including Kim eyed me suspiciously...the saw is enough, and anyway without a chain saw license we could expect daily visitations from Pasat, for his cut (sic). Must confess it would take me weeks, the first few just to contemplate the task, but ok up to him - do it!

He agreed to start at around one, Saturday. I was there at 12 and he hadn't turned up so I went away, returned at 4 and could see the tops of the coconut trees in the next garden. An unfamiliar sight, because they're not visible from the house, so off I went to see how it's going. The offending mango and lychee trees were down to stumps, branches everywhere, and he was already working on the mango stump for removal. Not easy, because the roots spread deep and hold firm, and there was also an ant issue, lots of them, red ones that don't like to be disturbed, crawling up legs and into crotches biting all the way, but he was well insulated and didn't seem bothered when I taught him new swear words whilst bashing away at my legs.

Ai was there for moral support, gingerly tossing the occasional small branch onto the pile for burning, as though in danger of getting his hands dirty. Credit where it's due though, and he did his fair share when it came to seeing off the two bottles of ex gratia Leo I had bought for Kevin.

Next morning, the crater around the mango stump was five feet across, about three deep, and Kevin was bashing away with some improvised tool at the roots, to clear the stump for removal. Afternoon saw the roots and both stumps gone, with him working on a far larger area than contracted, clearing grass and bushes, and then he would turn the land in preparation for digging the post holes – after the difficult and time consuming tasks of weeding and removing the grass roots, which I hadn't considered. BigBoy was helping out with Quiet Boy, though Kevin was doing the hard work. I guessed the pariahs weren't working for free, and later learned he would give them something from the 2k baht I intended to pay at the end of this contract - with money as yet unmentioned.

Afternoon, and the tops of the coconut trees in the next garden had also disappeared. Oops I thought as I went into the garden and there they were, two felled, with coconuts all over the place. The elderly neighbour had asked him to off them, which he did with his saw. Seems they've wanted to get rid of those trees for years and only now had somewhere for them to land, in the space he had created, so we already have a mutual positive; they keep the fruit and pa gets the wood. Weeks later, the trees are still in the garden and nobody seems to know what pa intends to do with them, but they won't be wasted because nothing's wasted out here.

The land he cleared for the dragon fruit could very comfortably accommodate thirty posts, rather than the twenty we ordered for eighty cuttings.



Forty white cuttings at 10 baht discounted from 20 were already delivered to the school, as part of an opportune scam by Pasat's teacher-niece, Toh (see: The School)...



...and we were waiting on forty more, red, at 25 baht. There is also a yellow variety, though the farm had just started planting and had no cuttings.

The 2m concrete posts were 110 baht apiece, plus 15 baht for modification to hold the tyres, to be delivered Friday, and expected to be standing by the time we returned from a weekend in Pitchit on Sunday.

Ploplem!

One evening, when the others were around celebrating his efforts...



(School assistant janitor Tey doing the honours with a pig's head, Top with the white shirt sharing an early nosh with BigBoy, ma at back and Ai in the hammock.)

...I noticed Kevin lingering longer than usual, but didn't think much of it. Kim later mentioned he was hoping for an advance, considering he had done much of the work, but was shy to ask in case I refused. Fair enough, and next time we approached on the high street I waved him down and gave him 1000. He shyly asked if any more was to come, since we hadn't mentioned money before, and I told him another's due when he's finished and not to worry because I also want him for loads more work in and around the yard. He was happy with that.

As far as I was concerned, he could work at ma's, at a slower pace than he's used to, through the months till until the rice turns yellow for harvest. I had great plans for our private jungle and also ideas to expand the veggie patch, and he was thrilled at the thought of regular money coming in. It also pleased pa no end that his veggie patch would grow by about 40%, because that's his baby. The rest of the rear land would remain unused, but we were moving in the right direction and they were getting used to the idea that it will be used, eventually.

But that wasn't the ploplem.

The posts were due for delivery by the cement people on Friday afternoon, and Kevin was expected to finish everything by Sunday at latest. Meanwhile, we had arranged to meet some friends in Pitchit for the weekend, leaving Friday morning. We solved our end when Kim gave ma another 1000 to pay him off, with instructions to make sure he did everything as agreed, and properly.

We expected the parents to take an interest in what was after all their free dragon fruit plantation, and to stay onsite to ensure everything was done properly, but ma went off to the mountain for mushrooms and pa was arse up in the veggie patch, so when Kevin said he was finished he checked only that 20 posts were standing and handed over the money.

That was the problem, or part of it, because the 40 cuttings weren't planted...they were still at the school, and the tyres weren't fixed either.

Also, more important, as I'm 183cm, so the posts should not reach the top of my head, though some did and not one was down to the agreed depth of 30 cm. Instead, they each sported a 20-30 cm mound of earth around the base, which Kevin said was a good idea as it diverted rainwater away from the young roots, which are not strong enough to cope with heavy rains. This is correct, but as I explained to him the posts should still be standing solidly into the earth, because thinking ahead and with examples I had seen elsewhere, time and the elements combined with the weight of four fully grown plants can easily tip them over, and I wouldn't envy anyone trying to restore a post upright under those conditions.

Oh yes, and most important of all - we've only gone and paid him off, right?

Well, easy enough for a farang to figure this one out - he has to do it again, with the carrot of lots more work to come.

For the next week he was off the radar, but when intel from Kim had him sighted at the school (see: The School Wiring) I dashed over and we met as he was leaving. Polite as fcuk I asked wtf was going on, and he said he'd be over to do it next weekend. Fair enough, he would need the family pickup to transfer the cuttings from the school to home.

Next weekend, off the radar again, and visions of Ai having an influence flooded my mind. Not only is he a useless crunt but antagonistic to boot, and no big deal but it would not surprise me to learn that he steered Kevin into the mindset of not redoing the work, especially since he's already been paid. Otoh could just be the cynic working overtime.

Anyway, back on topic, I caught him during the week and he promised to do it all next weekend. Meanwhile, Kim had Tey, the school's assistant janitor deliver the cuttings home, which removed any scope for further plausible delays or excuses on that account.

Keep in mind Kevin is a good worker, and also keen to earn money, and yes it could be another culture conflict but from my end it made no sense for him to mess around and risk losing the other heaps of work we have lined up for him, all of which he can do in his own time because none are urgent, so he could treat them as fillers for whenever he's free, between any other jobs.

Your patience has paid off, because now it gets interesting, or insightful.

Thursday, and pa came home early, having taken a day off work. Nothing unusual, his work attendance is as relaxed as anything in the village, and days off are common. He started work on the first post, to set an example for Kevin to follow with the other 19 on Saturday.

He removed the mound, dug around the post and removed it, deepened the hole to more than 30cm and also widened it, to accommodate the post's 8" x 8" base, then dug and broke up and turned over the earth a meter around the hole, taking care to remove all the grass and other roots, a time consuming task because the roots do run deep, then added a load of chicken shit, mixed it in with the earth, replanted the post securely, planted 4 cuttings against the post's squared sides, filled in and patted down.

It took more than an hour to do, hard work without a break, and I didn't envy Kevin's brief next day, having to repeat that 19 times. In a way I felt sorry for him, because he had already cleared and prepared far more land than contracted, and I think on the day we discussed it he didn't realise just how much work was involved; neither did I. Just one of those things, and we agreed to make it up to him with some ex gratia at the end, though ma and pa resented this, believing he should be doing far more for his incoming 2k.

Also, I rearranged our regular Saturday shopping expedition to Sakon to return via Pang Khorn and the superhighway, so we could take in the dragon fruit farm, pick up the red cuttings and return before Kevin finished re-digging and planting. Then he could plant the lot, fix the tyres and game over.

Now a stroke of good fortune. When we went to the farm for the red cuttings, I noticed they had a section of dragon fruit with posts dug not into the earth but standing at ground level inside bottomless concrete drums, or skirts, about 40cm high and 50-60cm in diameter, filled with earth. The plants seemed healthy enough, so I started asking questions about the pros and cons.

Bottom line, the skirts cost money, which is always bad, but otherwise a good idea because each skirt effectively creates a self contained environment for its plants. Nourishment in the form of chicken or cow shit goes straight to target, rather than dispersed in the surrounding soil and diluted or washed away by the rain. Also, the drums are 40cm deep so there's no need to dig any holes at all, just put a post in and fill to 30cm or more, pat the earth down and the post's as secure as it would be in the ground. Another plus was the strategically bored holes in the drums, for excess water to drain off, and of course being self contained they could be relocated if needed.

Relating what I had just learned to conditions back home, here was the perfect solution and one with no downsides. As there were already mounds around each of our posts, the skirts wouldn't even to be filled, just topped up. Then, as they create their own environment there's no need to dig, or turn over the earth, or de-root or otherwise work on the surrounding earth...plug and play, toss a skirt over each post and Bob's yer uncle.

I was enthusiastic about this development, and couldn't wait to give Kevin the good news. The only negative, after discussing it with the dragon fruit expert, was the cost of the drums, probably around 100 baht apiece, but for us that didn't enter the reckoning because money was not an issue.

We returned home with our 40 red cuttings, having asked the farm guy to give us a call when the yellows come through next year. Then a mild detour to the cement people, to confirm costs and also that they'd deliver and their own heavies would set the drums over the posts.

When we arrived home, Kevin was working on the sixth or seventh post in the first row of 10, happily dripping with sweat having done one helluva lot of digging and rooting, and with about double what he had already done still to do. Well, pleased as Punch, I was about to reward him by reducing his workload to almost zilch.

Through Kim I explained to him that we would order 20 concrete drums, which the cement factory would deliver, then he would just need to top them up with earth. He would still need to plant the cuttings and fix the tyres, which he would need to do anyway, but no more digging or rooting or anything else - the perfect solution, and one that saves him a heap of work.

If this were a movie, now would be a good time for the intermission...

...something for dog lovers...





...too tame? - try this...



...or if you're feeling a bit warm get this lot to splash you down...







Now, as I said before, he's a great worker but not too bright is our Kevin. He thought about it, asked who would place the drums over the posts, I told him the cement people, and he thought about it more. Then, instead of thanking us, he read the rescheduling as being more work than we had agreed to - don't ask me how! - and protested as he stormed off in a huff, complaining to his peers that the farang's taking the piss.

Epilogue: He did it his way, slogged his ass off with pa making sure he didn't cut corners, and also lost a good customer.


Cost:
Kevin 2000
20 modified concrete posts 2500
Two bottles Leo 80
Forty white cuttings 400 - discounted from 800
Forty red cuttings 1000
Total cost: 5980

Never mind the hundred quid and sure I'll be long gone before eighty plants show profit at a few baht per kilo to cover their cost, which wouldn't visit my pocket anyway, but it makes the nearer part of the back garden neater and more presentable, everyone's happy, no losers, it broke the mould that everything must stay as it is because that's the way it is, and should also keep the family in free dragon fruit forever.




Part of a coconut tree stump on the left, and another behind the nearest post.

Here's another one of ma...



...because I like her...

Ai, shovelling shit after a tiff with pa...



...and of course my two fav kids playing with their fav food...





Another plus to the extra land being cleared, is that pa can extend his veggie patch towards the dragon fruit. As the veggie patch is low lying, the dragon fruit will not feel hemmed in, so this gives him another 3-4m (x20m = 60-80 sq m) when its fence and bordering scrub is removed. He can also extend it by 3-4m in the other direction as well, after scrub removal, by getting rid of one small though strategically located lime tree that renders useless another strip of about 60-80 sq m. Kim says no way, because it's not just face but he'll never get his head around the concept of destroying a tree that he personally planted, even if it significantly increases his usable land area. Experience compels me to agree with her, but nothing to lose so that's a challenge for next weekend.

Next weekend came and I mentioned it to him, but seems it wasn't necessary because not only was he already preparing the borders for extension in that direction, but he intended to extend the patch also towards the house. The lime tree? It will be integrated into his veggie patch, which Kim interprets to mean he's looking for an honourable reason to get rid of it - give us time, we're working on it.

The unexpected bonus is now he can't avoid seeing that the land beyond the dragon fruit is unproductive and can either be annexed to his veggie patch, separated by the dragon fruit, or used for something else. Kim offered to pay for labour and materials, but he insists on doing the main graft himself; fair enough, good bloke, though everyone seems to balk at the concept of paying real money for something so common as hard work.

Couple of weeks later pa started clearing the rear land, by hand...I asked how long he expects it to take if he worked on it full time, every day, he said about a month, maybe two, depending on how deeply rooted the growth is. But first he would need to trim the growth to ground level...which leads us to the unwanted brush cutter (see: The Brush Cutter).

[Tom O]

Great thred. Makes me homesick. Will be back in January.

[astasinim]

Like your writing style, keep it coming.

[Propagator]

Brilliant Keda

[binnsy]

i can now take Chicken.Big mistake moving into the wilds

[Loombucket]

Great stuff keda, and there was me thinking that I was out in the sticks. Thanks for the info on growing Dragon fruit, it's one of my faves. Lack of farrang contact can be a bit of a problem after a time, but having a large Thai family can help, a bit. More to come on this thread, I hope, and your lady looks lovely btw.

[Chris L]

Isaan enchanting....and frustrating. It's the farang with the 'deeper' nature that allows the enchantment to outshine the frustrating bits!

[keda]

Sorry to disappoint, if I have a 'deeper' nature it's well concealed. I'm here till the paperwork gets through which could be anything from a month to six or even more, and it's far easier to thoroughly enjoy the people and life and experiences than get uptight over thngs that I would like to be different.

[Chris L]

C'mon, life's not perfect .... there are frustrating bits.... Isaan included, but would I swap it for another life style....hell no. I even cherish the frustrating bits!

[keda]

Absolutely and I wouldn't change it for anything, but it helps to know that I couldn't stay her for life and also that I don't need to. Twenty-thirty years ago perhaps, but now have grown too fond of creature comforts.

I would highly recommend a few months or even some years in the sticks, for any farang intending to stay in LoS for life.

[Chris L]

I'm going on 5 years in the 'sticks', a small village called Khogpattana. About 12km from Phonpisai. No sir, never boring.

[keda]

Today discovered the greatest event on the village calandar, to commemorate the death of Luang Poo Mun; note the title - Poo - is rare and denotes the highest achievement by a monk in this life. He spent his last years at the forest temple, which has enhanced it's spiritual value no end, and when he became ill the villagers hand carried him to Sakon over difficult terrain.

People from around the country attend the 2-day event, and the villagers have for weeks been preparng the area for thousands of incoming. There are dozens of tables already laid out, the secondary school has effectively extended end of term hols by volunteering the students to the temple for sweeping, cleaning or whatever else is needed.

Now, I thought the tables were for a market of some sort, but they're not. Every one has been booked months in advance, and seems it's an honour to have one because they're for giving away free food and drink, yep, to thousands, for two full days, with families vieing to book their tables from the end of last year's fest and from far away as Chiang Mai/Rai, Phuket and Rayong.

Anyway, I thought I would end up in the doghouse for chasing the organiser and demanding a family table/stall, which we finally have thanks to the uniqueness of a grovelling farang, but well worth it because ma and Kim can't get over their good fortune.

Now the balloon's gone up and loads of problems, like what to cook and how much, no large cooking pots, no time to do what's needed though it will be done because it has to, who's going to make what and how do we cook onsite with no facilities, where to store everything, etc...but those are their ploplems not mine...mine was the easy part, to provide a more than adequate budget.

No pics but they'll come...looking forward.

[sunsetter]

looking forward.

from your previous posts mate so am i

[keda]

Life in the Village – 07 – Takbaht

I was holding back this instalment for expansion, but now better to move it behind since it has much in common with next week’s commemoration of Luang Poo Man’s passing, the common element being to enrich one’s soul by giving.

One theory I’ve heard, from an English speaking middle-class Thai, which fits well with empirical observation, is that the poor are poor because they were bad people in a previous incarnation, bad being stretched to include not giving enough ‘charity’. My reading is that even the poorest should give and if you give nothing because you feel you have nothing to give you are not a good Buddhist and should really try harder for a shot at deliverance...an absurd and startling demonstration of control that the few have over the masses, with fear and greed maniacally heightened, allowing the sheep good grace to huddle hungry in cold and fear as their mentors wear their fleece to the banquet.

Note: Tuesday’s forest monk count rose from its usual 10-20 to 34, yesterday to 67, 94 today and will break into triple digits tomorrow, in prep for Sunday’s three-day food fest. The pics are from a peacetime, 10-20 monk takbaht.

Since returning to the village last weekend it's been the usual game of patience and tenacity. Logging in to TD is not usually a problem, but once in it’s another slog, pages rarely open properly, posts can take from 30 secs to 20 mins to actually get through if they do, and I've already been trying to upload this for more than two hours, using a different browser each time one freezes. Should have full use of available bandwidth, if the bastard next door hasn’t again absentmindedly switched off to save a few satangs despite me paying 1000 monthly for the privilege of piggybacking on his pathetic connection.


Went over earlier to verbally rough him up, pics uploaded, but formatting keeps changing each time I refresh, but let's try again...

Nice ‘ere, innit?

Can’t be sure, but that should be close enough to what the monks think each morning, come Isaani deluge or blistering heat.

Takbaht, as a verb, is the traditional offering of food by the people to their spiritual elite. Split the word, and tak refers to the process of giving, with baht being the stainless steel bowl carried by monks under their frock.

Each morning at around 6 and regardless of weather conditions, the villagers will be gathered at 3 main takbaht points in the village, the first and furthest about 700 meters from the forest temple compound, and the other two on the way back to the temple. This means the monks pass stations 3 and 2, and then a sharp right into the home straight for the starting grid, point 1.

There used to be 4 points, but 2 and 3 merged, though it seems a crew at the corner are trying to restore the status quo because points 1 and 2 are usually swollen with jai dees.

There are also several token takbaht points further along the high street, beyond station 1 coming from the temple, and these are to takbaht the mountain monks who enter the village from the other end of the high street, and never stray as far as point 1. As there are usually no more than one or two mountain monks to revere, swelling to as many as 4 or 5 approaching the major Buddhist holy days, we’ll focus on the main fleecing process; just a point on the mountain people.

In peacetime, with as many as 10-20 takbahters serving the mountain end of the village it can be overwhelming for the monk/s to carry the swag back to their temple, an arduous 3-4 km away. For this they employ a young lad with a bicycle, whose duties are similar to those of the forest temple biddies, to carry and prepare and serve the food to them, after which one surmises he takes the leftovers home. I believe their regular volunteer is from a poor family.

Back to the main drag...05.30 and the high street is buzzing, with people shaking themselves awake for the opening event of the day. One old woman does a roaring trade in various concoctions at 10 baht per bag from home, though only the monks know if anything she sells is edible and they’re not allowed to complain anyway, so it really doesn’t matter what she puts in her dishes. Still, she sells between 30 and 100 bags daily, much depending on the weather and sentiment, and up to 200 on red letter days, so that’s a respectable income made before most have even washed, and no wonder she’s always so cheery. Btw, I mentioned to Kim that the biddy starts to close shop when the monks arrive for takbaht, which cleverly avoids having to participate, and was sharply rebuked for my disrespectful observation because...well, should be easy enough by now so you can figure it out!

Here's a budding entrepreneur, seen how much the ol' gal makes and trying to get a bit of the action.

When Kim takbahts, she prefers to stay with the established firm, and I prefer the Buddhist idea of giving him our few baht, for his effort. Usually tradition wins.

The occasional mobile vendor or two also turn out for their whack, mostly sporting a tray or sidecar of monk feed, or something they’re scrumped from the forest or someone’s property on the way to takbaht. No bargaining, I was told, everything is 10 baht whether in pack or bag or bunch, but for the crack I managed to squeeze 3 for the price of two, which pissed off the mrs, by reminding the vendor that everyone has what they want and the monks are approaching so it’s now or never. Another squandered 20 baht!

On a regular day, there will be around 50-80 takbahters at station 1, and 20-40 at 2 and 3. With something to celebrate these numbers can double, though if it’s pissing down and real bleak, which is rare at that time even in the rainy season, they can dwindle to around 30-40 and 15-20 respectively, with women more gullibly accounting for around 80%.

Considering the village population is around 300 families, or around 1200 people, many of them kids too young to participate, that’s a fine testament to the clout of optimism.

Every family has at least one representative takbahting for the absentees, otherwise they'll be talked about, and as khao neow is the staple, everyone carries the familiar krathip khao, or khao neow basket.

This means the village biddies are up early each morning to prepare the first of usually two daily batches of khao neow, some for their takbaht basket and the rest for the family, plus whatever’s left after takbaht.

Most takbahters supplement their khao neow with extras, fruit, food, snacks or whatever. Only the best goes to the monks, no leftovers or second user stuff, if it comes in a pack the pack should be sealed, nothing that may be stale or spoiled, or that’s been tasted or otherwise interfered with.

To illustrate this, on the way with a friend giving merit in my early Thai days, my elderly host politely declined to offer one of two jasmine garlands she had bought for us to give to the monks, I later discovered, because it was impure - I had instinctively sniffed it. Part of the learning process, but do keep in mind that anything destined for the elite should be undefiled at the time it is handed over, and not previously enjoyed or otherwise tainted by unholy persons.

At each takbaht point there is an ample supply of yellow tiffin stacks, for cooked foods, and also a basket for other foods, such as drinks, fruit, snacks, or anything else that isn’t appropriate for the tiffin. There is also an old woman or two, to ensure everything runs smoothly, and more, not altogether altruistic, but we’ll come to that.

The collection tables used to be plain and simple affairs, an unremarkable piece of wood nailed across two posts to form a table top for the basket and tiffin stacks, until something inspired the village carpenter this summer to design and build elaborate shrine-like homes for the extras, complete with corrugated roof, at each of the three main takbaht points, to accommodate the incoming extras.

Kudos to him for the only aesthetically pleasing furniture along the high street, which is otherwise bland and dull and dusty and dotted with cow shit.


As the villagers arrive, each with a krathip khao dangling by their side, they place their extras in the basket and or a tiffin box, and then sit or stand around yakking till kickoff.

There is no competition, and nobody comments on what others bring or don’t bring, though whenever Kim placed her offerings in the basket during my early and enthusiastic days I did notice a profusion of indifferent rubber necks.

Ftr I do not takbaht, couldn’t bring myself to do it, and though I do tag along and respectfully stand aside from the herd whenever Kim feels the need for purification, it is with revulsion that those who cannot afford to give are coerced into making that sacrifice for the fraudulent promise of irresistible rewards in some afterlife.

Pasat, now retired, takbahts every day...only problem is he has to walk past our house on the way to and from, so if Kim isn't around he'll pop in to tell me loves me and put his hand on my thigh. Latest with him is he wants me to teach him English, and how to use a computer, and all about the stock market...anything to be close enough for a touch!

06.00, and the saffron robes can be seen from the direction of the fleecing depot, usually twelve to twenty, led by the head monk, unsmiling in single file and barefoot, regardless of weather or road conditions.


There will be cow dung on the road, sand, mud, gravel and other things that shouldn’t be there, but they will make no effort to avoid it, in theory; in practice, the head monk will veer to avoid a pat, puddle or patch of gravel, whilst keeping as straight a course as possible to make it seem immaterial to earthbound life. The good news is that if it’s real gross, some villager will sweep the road by their takbaht point. Still, under the best conditions, other parts of the road will be filth strewn and certainly unsuitable for going barefoot.

The monks trudge past takbaht points 3 and 2, and now also 1.5 towards 1, by which time the air is filled with anticipation as the villagers line up, slippers kicked off behind them, all with their krathip khao uncovered and at the ready, many with their basket raised to their forehead or heaven with eyes shut in deep concentration, hoping it’ll be this takbaht that nudges open their gate to Nirvana.

Note the family kids bottom right, too young to participate but absorbing it all.

The head monk pauses before the forthcoming bounty, perhaps for a silent prayer, then unfurls his baht, a cue to his followers, and leads his monks down the line. As the monks pass, each villager breaks off a chunk of khao neow from their basket and drops it into his begging bowl. No smiles, no thank you, the monks are doing them an act of kindness by offering hope, which far outweighs the cosmic import of a lump of rice.

The size of each khao neow ball, as with the extras, is irrelevant; it’s the ritual of giving that counts towards one’s form in the next life.







At the end of the line, the head monk leads a u-turn to head back towards the temple, topping up at the other takbaht points on the home straight.

Meanwhile, as each villager serves the last monk, they fall into a crouch and wai, remaining in that position until the last monk is clear of the line. This means when the last monk has been served by the last villager, only that villager will be standing, though only for a moment.

Here's schoolteacher Nui casting a glance, 2 months into his 3-month stint...it took more than 2 weeks for me to recognise him. Now back at school, putting the weight back on and pretending it was just what he needed.

When the last monk passes the first villager on the way back, the takbaht ritual is over and the now sanitised villagers disperse to address the more practical elements of survival.

At points 2 and 3, as the monks do not need to u-turn because they’re homeward bound, the takbahters drop into a squat for a few seconds after serving their last monk, then takbaht is over.

At the end of takbaht point 3, junior monks relieve the head monk, and also any other venerable visitors of their burden.

It doesn’t end there, though. The tiffin boxes and baskets need to be conveyed to the temple. Here’s where the old women come in, aided by whoever is providing the pickup truck.

The baskets and tiffins are loaded onto the pickup, heaved off in the temple compound, and then sorted and prepared by volunteers, for presentation to the monks. By around 7, they will be ready for their only meal of the day, sitting in the lotus position around one and a half sides of the veranda of the temple’s covered public area. Note: Now that their numbers have quadrupled from par and are yet to surge over the next days, they’re squatting all over the place.

Ma and Kim never miss an opportunity for the merit value of helping out...caused a problem recently and I'm absolutely effing furious, but that'll be in the next installment.

Looking concerned are they?

That's because they're always on edge when we're anywhere near monks or the temple, with a propensity for the farang to say or do the wrong thing.

Here's the head monk, likes to get in a few minutes of meditation before breakies.



The others are a bit more laid back, and user friendly...

...except Nui and the others about to be inducted, sober as a rose on a coffin.

After appropriate wais and chants and prayers by the monks and villagers attending the breakfast ritual, suitable goodies are served via skateboard-type trolleys. Two trays loaded with dishes per cart, and wheeled from the head monk down the line, with each monk helping himself to however much of whatever he wants, before rolling the board to his neighbour.

May seem a bit sparse but don't you believe it, there's loads of goodies.

I have tried to ask but nobody seems to know what happens with the extras that don’t end up on a trolley. As an example, I bit my lip when ma dutifully launched 3 chicken essence tubs into the basket, but identified and decided to follow that basket, from the takbaht point onto the pickup, through the other pick up points and on to the fleecing compound, where the baskets came off the truck and were carried to the prep area, by which time the tubs had miraculously vanished into the ether. I guess the spiritual equivalent of lese majeste should earn me 6 months for thinking not everything is above board, and perhaps another 6 for implying it. Wouldn’t dream of mentioning it to Kim.

As each trolley reaches the end of the monk line, it is unloaded by two volunteers; one takes the leftover dishes to the female monks (mare shee) squatting nearby to receive them, and the other returns the trolley to the starting point. When there are no more dishes to dispense, the trolleys will stack neatly beneath the breakfast veranda.

There are usually about 4 to 6 mare shee stationed at the forest temple. They live apart from the male commune and their only contact with the men is in the morning, for the breakfast ritual, and major holy days. They will set aside enough for their combined needs, rather than individually like the male monks, and pass what’s left to the takbaht biddies, who share out the spoils and take it home for the family, or whatever, or sale, or whatever.

After that some more chants and prayers, before the monks tuck in.

Mare shee in the foreground with first choice of leftovers, before they're passed to the biddies at back for sharing, with kibbitzers, well, kibbitzing.

Takbahters heavily outnumber the monks on the worst mornings during the rainy season, which may average something like once a month if that, during the rains, but on most days with more than 100 takbahters servicing at most 20-25 monks and mare shee combined, there is more than enough left over to keep several families well fed.

Supplementing takbaht are local and national festivities to enjoy and events to celebrate. Then we have mornings preceding the full moon, when the villagers make a special effort to takbaht with extras, more food, gifts, money, candles, more money, or anything else to cleanse their degenerate souls, though many believe money works wonders, too.

Nam and Kim...the 100 she's adding came from my pocket. It was a tossup between that and a 20, but too many eyes and I panicked.

Plus, this temple spawned the distinguished and venerable Luang Poo Mun, so each of his life defining events need to be celebrated, preferably with more of the same, Sunday’s 3-day event to be reported later.

Can’t see why they bother, seeing as it’s just part of a never ending cycle for them to remain as unclean and guilt ridden tomorrow as they were yesterday.

[sabang]

^ Excellent keda. Your village must be blessed by considerably more holy Wat and punters than ours- the daily practise of giving alms to the monks is a good deal more informal than that, and nowhere near as well attended.

[keda]

My lot believe they are truly destined for greater things, if not in this life then certainly the next few. Not only do they have the renowned temple (see Luang Poo) but they're convinced it is through the influence of his powers that you know who decided to give them the only secondary school in the vicinity, rather than waste it on riff raff.

[keda]

Life in the Village – 08 - Luang Poo Mun

Loads of pics to come but camera not working so need to visit the bastard next door to tf via CD...can be updated later...

Luang Poo (or Ajarn) Mun, one of Buddhist Thailand’s top blokes, was born 1870 in Baan Kham Bong, a village in Ubon Ratchathani. Ordained in 1893, because his family had too many children and could not cope, he spent almost all of the rest of his life wandering and meditating through Thailand, Burma, and Laos, avoiding people and crowded places, and finding comfort and solace in the forest. He attracted a large following, and established the forest meditation tradition, also known as Kammatthana (sounds Hindu?) that has since spread through Thailand and its neighbours. He became ill at the age of 79, in 1949, and passed away as he was being hand hauled over difficult terrain to Sakon Nakon.

Monk titles:
Luang Phi – a young or novice monk
Luang Thera – monks reach this status after 10 years
Luang Pho, Po, or Phor – for middle aged monks
Luang Pu, or Poo - an old and renowned monk
Luang Ta, or Tha – reserved for the greats that were ordained at an older age; less respectful than Poo

To commemorate his passing, which falls at the end of the rains and just as the rice is ready for harvest, the temple has a three-day prayer festival during which they give away thousands of free meals to visitors that come from around the country to participate in the memory of this great man. No music, singing, dancing, just a three-day prayer fest with, well, lots of prayer and no scarcity of collection boxes taking root all over the place.

As the event commemorates a sad event, the passing of a pious man, the forest temple has set a benevolent tradition by devoting tens of thousands of baht towards the cost of food and drink for the thousands that will turn up to participate, and the villagers are truly appreciative at the scale of this generosity.

Credit where it’s due, and they’re giving something back to the people, though it’s considered impolite to mention that the money was gathered from the villagers in the weeks leading up to the event, by the village chief. Every morning for the fortnight before, as part of the daily news, pep talk and party line over the village PA, he announces the name of each family and the amount they have contributed to this good cause. Any family failing to contribute, and yes I have it on good authority, will be gossiped about by the others, so I am not sure if the legal term is extortion or intimidation. Anyway, in line with the way things are figured out here, the villagers are delighted to be sanctified with some of their own money.

About 30 ‘shop’ tables are set up in one of the temple’s fields opposite the temple, for those in search of spiritual repos. These are given away free, no rent or other charges, to the public. They come from all over the country for this privilege, and shops are reserved from as far back as the end of the previous year’s event.

The way it works is that you bring your prepared raw material, cook the food onsite, give it all away, and then close shop. Some shops close the first day, which starts this evening, others make it through to the end, Tuesday afternoon, but it’s an honour even if your shop doesn’t make it through the first hour.

There is also the temple’s own, well equipped soup kitchen and distribution area, a large one, where those of the female villagers that are not involved helping out at a public shop, muck in to do the honours.

Kim had a shop table over the years, geared for 100 meals that would mostly close at the end of the opening evening, but for some reason gave it a miss this time. I later learned she did not wish to impose (grenjai), and that she expected me to either do it reluctantly or dive in enthusiastically and go the whole nine yards.

I did not know any of that till after impulsively grovelling our way to a shop table, partly on principle because the bossman said all tables were booked months in advance. When I managed to claim a table the family were delighted, though grenjai again encroached, because they wanted to make it a special occasion for me, as I did for Kim, and they were neither mentally prepared nor equipped with the hardware to cope with more than the usual hundred or so basic meals before shop closes.

Fat lady came over for a powwow, I went over for a powwow with Kim, and the girls decided that they’ll all do what’s needed for prep, but Kim takes charge of the front line cooking – with her target of 100 meals now upgraded to 300-500.

At first, her estimate was around 2-3000 baht for the 100 or so meals she expected to provide, but this was extended to 5k, for 300-500 meals. Same afternoon at Makro, we upped that to 10k when the first trolley became dangerously overloaded with her still on page one of our shopping list.

Finally we decided to cap our exes at a more realistic 15k, and our current final and inflexible offer has since increased to not a penny more than 20k, seeing as we’re just a few hundred away, with her target raised to that nice round number.

Only, it would be shameful to run out of gas after all that effort and expense and anticipation, and the last refill was about a month ago, so there’s another 295, and for 1000 meals, our latest and final target we really do need a cauldron, 1600, 2 serving trays, another k+, a secure cooking stand for onsite, 800, 8 doz large bottles of drink, ice and box over 3 days, chef hats and aprons, and of course another volume of chicken, fish, veggies, bamboo shoots and heaps more, the equivalent of what we already have, which might give us some change from 30k, if Buddha is smiling.

The chefs out there will know it’s not easy to cook for 1000 when you’re used to cooking for family, or even an annual 100.

On Friday, Kim made a 50'ish portion pot of her shop’s only dish for the family, using only the best ingredients rather than commercial stuff used at market stalls, and the dry run went down extremely well.

Family was within minutes extended to neighbours and friends that miraculously popped in en passant and sat down for a go at the trough. I managed 4 bowls, the last admittedly only half-full due to over indulgence.

Family and neighbours came by for another dry run Friday evening, and then again, just to confirm the previous efforts were no accident another dry run yesterday afternoon.

Sunday morning, kickoff late this afternoon, everything pre-prepared and cooking proper starts when it’s transferred to our shop. All shopping cleared with another 3kg of fresh parsley due later on, and then no more exes.

Total outlay around 27-30k, but well worth it for what’s gonna be a great 3 days.

Have to go now, conscripted to Eastern Front...

[sabang]

Total outlay around 27-30k, but well worth it for what’s gonna be a great 3 days.

Better be good for that Dosh.

[keda]

Brilliant day and not yet over, and though it is due to be launched officially around 9pm, the main temple 'shop' and some others started early and will be open 24/7 till noon or thereabouts on Tuesday.

Nine o’clock deadline so I'm already in trouble, but a quickie few notes before I dash off again.

Corrections to earlier post, completely missed the double-up and extras all over the place so it should be around 120 tables, not 30. Also, Camera's ok but the driver is corrupt so can't transfer via USB, and the bastard next door's closed, so the blow by blow pictorial is deferred till no later than tomorrow, or Tuesday.

Arrived at the temple grounds around midday, with the family and kids present and the women working their asses off preparing for the first batch of an expected 5, one this evening, 3 tomorrow, and one Tuesday morning. We had plenty of everything, so nothing could go wrong. A few shops were already open and doing a roaring trade, and more people were arriving, as they have all day in prep for tomorrow's marathon.

The shop next to ours was very popular, with their couple of urns of sugar cane juice, an icebox and loads of cups. I thought I recognised the kids running it, and turns out they're from Kim's school. Good on them.

Most of their early customers were kids, hundreds of them, dashing from one open shop to the next, on the prowl for this once in a year freebie fest their families could never afford. As the juice level dropped, a couple of hours later, and understandably looking a bit disappointed, a natter with Kim had them right as rain and smiling again...she asked how much they had spent, turns out around 1000 baht all in, including the 600 paper cups they had doled out. Interrogation time...she told me they are from poor families, which I gathered anyway that they could ill afford that kind of money, but they had gone through the trouble and made the sacrifice for what they believed was something very special, so, Kim offered them their 1000 back if they promised to keep their shop open for a repeat performance tomorrow. There's nothing more warming than for kids to smile in disbelief.

I was wondering why so many people were hanging around our shop, and put it down to our neighbouring shopkeepers on the other side having not yet turned up, so we had lots of space. Later discovered that word had got around Kim was going to cook kapaw pla, a delicacy in these parts because kapaw is quite expensive (300 / kg) and rarely affordable.

When she told me how much the 12 kg of kapaw cost I was ready to barf, not on the price but because I'd eaten lots of it on Friday's scrumptious dry run - just didn't know it was fish stomach!

Anyway, pressure being what it is, Kim decided to revise the schedule with an early batch, and as she and fat lady balanced the cauldron on its stand the swarm began to form. Best guesses say the cauldron holds around 200 servings, which may account for the moment of trepidation on her face, because she had never before cooked for so many, and from what I gather, not being a cook, many things can go very wrong with so many ingredients needing to be added in just the right quantities, order, and apparently other vital conditions.

Pics will confirm, but from memory, first the water, chicken stock and a couple of chicken skeletons for body, next came a tray of chicken wings, followed by some aromatic leaves that have to be wrapped the way only they can do it, which would later be removed and discarded, and left to stew for a while. Then the mushrooms, not any I'm told, must be these, and more minutes on a slow boil before cubes of chicken breast enter the pot. A dose of sugar, which as we know is the common ingredient in every Thai dish, a glance to check if I was watching, I was, which meant half the sugar should be spilled back into the bag before the rest is launched into the pot. Later on some quail eggs, then baby bamboo shoots they had spent hours boiling and chopping, then quartered hard boiled eggs, various juices, sauces and pastes, shredded chilli and garlic wrapped in a cloth bag, a touch of salt, a bit of this and that, whatever it is I've forgotten, and then another 15-20 minutes of the most delightful scent of everything fusing in hopefully the right proportions before the poignant hush as the farang is honoured with a spoon and invited forward...20 minutes later the cauldron was empty, and the mob were waiting for seconds.

[Texpat]

Great read, Keda.