Life in the Village

[keda]

Life in the Village
01 – How did I end up here?

Do you live in the village, when and how did you get there, and why? Are you a recluse, a wanabe recluse, on the lam, a nature lover or just resting up before something else? Are you a city person having a go in the jungle, hate it, still adjusting to no city infrastructure and mod cons and undecided, or do you feel right at home where you are? How do you spend your days, work, rest, potter around getting bored and wondering how much more you can take, or was it your dream or fantasy to be with nature till you no longer have a choice? How much do you get through per month, with sod all to buy in the jungle? What about the villagers, do they like you or just tolerate your miserable existence on account of your financial input to one of their own? Are they all insane, or only the ones you’ve met? What about the power plays, mindset and decision making processes, does tirak work, are you lingering between what was and might hopefully be, or is it a tossup between that and one of you doing away with the other? C’mon cough it out, don’t be shy...

Btw, a few minutes ago I still didn’t have a clue how to add pics, but thanks and credit to CMN for his patience, despite daveboy and that other kibbitzer with a big knob howling in the background.

I met Kim

the day after

in some chat room, me in London on then frequent trips home, and her in Sakon Nakon. My only other chat room visit months before left me bored and resolved to give them a miss in future, but happened to be with a friend who spent most of his evenings chatting in cyberspace. Meanwhile, she was also there sharing a friend’s computer with the nic, Kim, which was also my boxer, so I took over the keyboard and that’s how we met. Coincidence? Well, maybe the Universe also came about as a coincidence.

At the time she was teaching English at Sakon Nakon Technical College and I was a carefree monger. I visited her on my return to Thailand. She was very shy and with a chaperone, never had a boyfriend and the only other farang she had ever spoken with was one of her tutors at uni. Things went well for a couple of years and looking back the only problem we ever had was distance, but that was enough to make the relationship falter.

She did her best, but it wasn’t easy to overcome the hindrance of physical distance. She would often take the evening bus from Sakon to Bkk on a Friday after college, then the bus to Pattaya, and from there by taxi to Jomtien, arriving understandably tired and ready for a nap early Saturday morning, after a 16 hour trip - just to be with me for a day...then she would do the reverse on Sunday morning, to reach Sakon late evening.

Flattered, sure and I appreciated her sacrifices, and also reckoned the fares must’ve taken a bite out of her paltry new-teacher’s salary of 6-7k, half of which she gave to her mother, though she never accepted any money from me, not even for fares.

One Sunday morning before she left, I was out of funny money and forced a £50 into her bag, for accrued fares. On her next visit she slipped it quietly in with the rest of my English money, which I realised weeks later. Confronting her, she said she didn’t get around to changing the 50 and didn’t want to risk offence by giving it back, so she snuck it in with rest and hoped I wouldn’t notice.

On another occasion, when we already seemed to be growing apart, she called to ask for a loan. Some emergency back home and she had applied for a teacher’s loan which she assured me would be approved as a formality but it takes up to a week and she needed it right away. Not sure if it was 15k or 25k. Well, that’s not a heap of cash but for someone on her salary it was, and though I was confident this wasn’t a payoff, even as a LoS newbie I was already conditioned to take whatever a Thai says with a sack of salt, so, must confess it did cross my mind. Still, I transferred it, hoping it would come back, and on her next visit she had it in a wad ready for me, so I told her to keep it and say nothing if she doesn’t want a problem.

Anyway, when the relationship was clearly in trouble, she offered to quit her job and come to Pattaya, which gave me several concerns because I really did like this one. I learned from her that as a new teacher it would be difficult if at all possible to transfer out of her home province, especially to Pattaya, so the only way we could be together was if she quit.

Time to take a step back. First, it was going wrong because of distance, which we both accepted was beyond our control, but no matter the cause, when a relationship is souring the worst thing to do is panic and start making serious commitments, whether marriage, having a kid, an expensive purchase, or in this case dumping her career.

Next, though we got along well, we had only ever stayed together for short periods, the longest about a week, when she was off school or I was on a visa run to Laos. So, we had never lived together over an extended period, which is the only way to really get to know your partner, and I know I’m not the easiest bloke to live with but decent enough to consider that it wasn’t worth offing her career, even if it seemed the distance issue would be resolved. If for whatever reason it didn’t work out, she’d also be out of a job.

Then, of course, I had already sussed out Pattaya as not the ideal place to bring a straight village lass. There was a good income generating reason at the time for me to be based in Pattaya, and though the other attractions were also great the first year or so, I began to see it differently. Sure it has the infrastructure and about everything else a farang may need, which I always miss when I’m not there, but beneath that it’s the pits, and I could rattle off any number of nicer places for decent people to live. No need to elaborate; if you live there you may know what I mean, but no big deal either, because though I may bitch about it, that’s where I live and soon it will be our home.

Anyway, I declined her generous compromise, and explained why, and we slowly fizzled out. But we stayed in touch through intermittent contact via sms and brief calls on birthdays and main festives over the next years till early ‘08, then got it on again. She had a week off school and came to Pattaya, and I reciprocated by going to Sakon, staying at the Dusit Hotel.

It wasn’t easy for either of us. She teaches at the village secondary school and I need my creature comforts, so in theory this meant we could be together only at weekends. In practice, I travelled to the village on weekdays, staying at the teachers’ common room for when she had lessons off, and leaving to return at around 5 so I could reach Sakon before dark. Whenever she had the first two period off the next day, or could arrange for another teacher to cover them, she would return to Sakon on the bike with me and take the 9 a.m. bus, 50 baht, 54 km, to arrive at school around 10.30.

This is Con, Pasat’s (see: The People/Pasat) bil. It’s his twice daily run, leaves the village at 6am just before takbaht (see: Takbaht), and touches several other villages on the way to Sakon, which takes around 90 minutes. Next trip leaves at 9, arriving at the village 10.30, a rest and snack, then back to Sakon for his last run of the day at 2.00. His fuel bill is around 40k per month, so one assumes it’s worth his while. His wife controls the finances, and from what he’s confided in me on trips to the village, everything else. Oh yes, his wife is Pasat's sis.

Otherwise, I would take the bus. It was a hassle, because the only way for me to return to Sakon was with her Honda 100, which meant the next morning having to return to the village by the same transport in a prolonged cycle of time and danger and inconvenience that was broken only when I could cadge a lift off someone heading to Sakon at around the right time, which put me back on the bus next morning...

Weekends were a bit easier, because her dad stays at his government workplace in Sakon during the week so he doesn’t need the pickup between Monday morning and Friday afternoon, or with rare exceptions other than for travel to and from work.

Still, I could handle the travel to and fro, but not overnight stays at the village; twenty years ago perhaps, but not now. And perversely, it was more difficult for me than for her, because I considered her travel and juggling and general inconvenience looking after me to be of greater consequence than she did, never complaining and taking it in her stoic village stride.

Also, Sakon was boring as fcuk after 7 years in Pattaya. I didn’t know anyone, rarely spotted a farang face, and for my first couple of weeks there thought the only place in town with edible grub was Green Corner, a Chinese owned gaff I frequented as often as three times daily and within a week wasn’t exactly looking forward to my next meal. Though she pointed me to other eateries, aside from eating and staying in my room for the respite of aircon there was little else to do. Trawling the market early morning and a bit of riding around on discovery helped to stave off boredom, but it eventually set in. This was about 4 months ago.

Long story, she was about to apply for a transfer to Pattaya, but then switched to a relatively less complicated exchange when she found a teacher in Pattaya wanting to be closer home in Sakon. Everything looked sweet but not surprisingly started hitting a few rocks as soon as the bureaucrats got involved.

The Committees she had to face were fine, but the paperwork is awesome, with some office or other always needing some proof or confirmation or release that would take a week to a month to procure, after which some other paper would be needed in support by someone on the national conveyor belt, and that’s how the Ministry keeps so many people employed to do little more than generate mountains of paperwork.

Another major point of resistance had to do with internal school politics, because many of the other teachers were hostile to the idea of losing her, and some of them could certainly influence the process. Why would they do this? Because real life kicks in and no matter the smiles and camaraderie, it’s each for himself. 5 main reasons:

1 and 2 - She is the more proficient of two English teachers, the other barely able to string together basic sentences. This means the school would be losing its only English speaking English teacher...and her replacement would be a Social teacher; the school already has 3 socials, and certainly doesn’t need another.

3 - The school budget and accounts is Kim’s brief and she manages well and without complaint, despite it being a thankless, difficult, and time-consuming task that nobody else wants to do (see also: The School/Petty Cash).

4 – As the newest and youngest teacher, and obliging, she is often asked to assist in teachers' personal and school projects that should have nothing to do with her. This used to piss me off, especially when she brought 3 or 4 hours worth of work home after school, but she accepts it as her duty to help out whenever she can, without realising that others are imposing, and sometimes taking the piss. Now we have a compromise; she can work from 8.30 to 4, and whatever remains unfinished at 4 is left at school overnight for the following day.

5 – The school’s director (see: The School) is being replaced, and the only thing the teachers know for certain is that the new director will not have such a laid back attitude. Also, they know her, and there’s panic in the wings because they don’t know her replacement, only that she’s more mature and experienced at 39, and less likely to be trampled on.

So yes, it’s understandable they want her to stay.

Oh well, it looked as though I’d be up here for a while, so we moved my stuff out of my condo and into the single unit, rented out the larger to friends indefinitely until I return, and off I went with a suitcase to the Dusit in Sakon.

Meanwhile, she made some enquiries. A cousin had married a German and moved to Hua Hin, returning to the village for a week or two each year, so they decided to rebuild an unused family home, which was left empty for the rest of the year.

She checked it out.

Looks nice doesn’t it? Let’s look closer…no aircon, which I knew I would miss but less now after three months, concrete and tiles, hot water shower, and kitchen with some mod cons from when they were first made available to the public. Poorly designed and Gerry built but looks fine from outside, and there’s also a spacious living area.

Can’t say it’s not been maintained but if it has then must’ve been with the mindset of the clown who built it in the first place. 3 of the 4 bedrooms stink from years of no ventilation so they’re off limits to me, an ancient 14” TV with remote that’s been disembowelled, points spark, the pump works only most of the time, roof leaks like fcuk when it rains, both upstairs and down, and down is impossible to ventilate as it's open at the front but closed on 3 sides with heavy growth on the other side of the walls, so no through breeze.

Still, overall better than an elevated wooden hut, and with a bit of trepidation I thought let’s give it a run. She offered to rent it, they countered with an invitation for us to stay there free, but I would rather pay now than later so she offered a daily 100 all in. Water is free, pumped from the well, so there would be only electricity bills to pay (just under 1000 the first 2 months), and we moved in three months ago.

For me it meant a new adventure that comes with its own compulsory learning curve, and that’s how I ended up in the jungle with jungle people owning a collective jungle mentality, infinitely more bored than I ever was in bubbly Sakon...and wouldn’t rewind for anything less than her transfer coming through so we can get the fek back to Pattaya and be like normal people again.

Notes:

*1 The front doors: There’s a 1/2” gap where the door tops are supposed to meet, which isn’t bad considering it almost doubles by the time you reach the bottom. The left door and its top and bottom latches work fine, but the top latch on the right door doesn’t actually slot into anything, while the bottom latch only slots into the floor because I had someone dig a hole in the tile. This means before we moved in the left door may as well as been left open. Now at close of play we run a rod through the inside handles to hold the damn thing flimsily together.

Silver lining: Couple of weeks ago we got locked out. Nope, didn’t leave the key inside, but when she locked up as we left the bottom latch must’ve swung and ironically slotted into the very hole we created to spare it further embarrassment. Anyway, stroke of luck she did the washing that morning and the clothes were still on the rack, so I shaped a hangar to form a lever, used the convenience of doors that don’t meet in the middle to slip it inside, and tried to work on the latch…no joy, and I felt the latch swing from being just slotted into a fully locked position. It was late, dark, no lights because the switches are on the inside and those outside operate dim lantern-like lights and on the wrong side of the pillars, shedding no light where it was needed, so they were useless to us and we had to find some other way in - through the door because all the windows are barred and netted except for front right, slats, but no tools to remove them. Eventually, by me pushing against the left door whilst pulling and lifting the right door as hard as I could, Kim was able to reach under it with her fingers, and after about 10-15 minutes finally managed to pry the latch from locked to slotted, then lifted to open. So much for security.

*2 The wiring system is also cute…8 outside lights, 4 at front and two neons on each side. The two lantern lights have logical switches outside, left for left and right for right, though this must’ve been done in error, because…from the front of the house…the other 2 front lights are operated by switches from separate double units, left of 2 switches by the left door works the left front light, but you have to cross into the living area to the furthest of two supporting pillars for another 2-unit switch, one of which operates the right front light, with the other connected to the light by the kitchen, which is right at the back left of the house, away from the living area. That’s the front outside lights sorted, but the side neons are more fun. The first left neon is operated by the right of the two switches by the left door, and for the other neon you have to go to the first of the 2 support pillars, where its other switch works the living area light behind the left door. Sounds complex but don't give up. that's the easy bit...the neons on the right side of the house offer a more profound and intriguing insight into someone’s mind and I'd sure like to meet him…the one nearer the front of the house, is operated by a single-unit switch in the downstairs bedroom next to the kitchen, which as we know is on the left of the house…it also means there is no switch for the bedroom light but that’s not a problem because that bedroom doesn’t have a light. The other downstairs bedroom, on the right side, before the bathroom and then the toilet, does have a light but no switch, because it’s switch shares a unit with the kitchen light switch, and yes the kitchen’s still on the left side of the house. As to the 2nd neon on that side, after 3 months we still haven’t discovered where it’s connected to. Could be it doesn’t work, yes we considered that, but every switch is connected to something and all are accounted for.

The inside lights are easier. Only 3 lights in the spacious living area, not one of them bold enough to cast light anywhere near the centre where it’s actually needed, and no light at all on the stairs or the upstairs landing.

*3 Might piss off the guv but no bog pics.

[Propagator]

Great read Keda.




That bladdy KW gets everywhere

[keda]

Life in the Village
02 – The Village

Thailand can be alien enough to a farang, and best advice is to stay away from the village if you take yourself too seriously. Not much to this one, been to many but it’s the only one I’ve ever stayed at, which makes it my point of reference concerning village life and the alien mindset that farangs never tire of trying to fathom.

It rests off the winding and in parts treacherously potholed two-lane tarmac strip from about 20 km along the Sakon Nakon to Kalasin highway, through several villages and doubling back towards Pang Khorn. You’ll only ever know it’s there is if it’s your destination or you’re very lost.

There are three approaches to the village, the high street and the back road, which snakes along the forest temple compound to merge with the bottom end of the high street, much like a distorted 3 km semi-circle off and back onto the main road. The third approach, my favourite for rot len, is the cow track leading to another village through forest and alongside rice paddies...that’s where I met Sip Roy Baht, a friendly cow herder with whom I had a 1km chat as she walked and I rode, and though neither of us could understand much of what the other said, she did manage to convey how much she paid for a monstrously disfigured calf.

Population around 300, with one farang exception 100% Buddhist, and passionately supporting their forest temple with its variable body count of 12-20 monks. The people also support a smaller, mountain temple that houses usually 2-4 monks according to the weather, which has kindly adopted the village for takbaht (see: Takbaht).

Every village or neighbouring two in the country embraces at least one temple that coincidentally needs tlc in the form of feeding and general upkeep, and of course donations, because monks are sworn to poverty, though the ones I stumbled upon in a secluded hill temple about 12 km away during one of my get-lost-and-see-what’s-there rides seem to be doing very well thank you. Oh yes, and the forest temple’s head monk seems agreeable to villagers needing the odd tree or few from the temple’s vast estates, if appropriate cash donations are forthcoming. Btw, it’s a given that monks are not horse traders, so one can only assume their estates were generously donated by villagers believing it to be the key to a more fulfilling incarnation.

Just beyond the village school, and the road falls away into what has been dubbed the superhighway. The local government started it years ago, aiming to connect with another road leading to Pang Khorn, ran out of money and never got around to finishing it, so in true Thai fashion it was left for extremes in weather to break down and hopefully wash away the evidence. Now some 7km of the 9km stretch render it, let’s be generous, difficult to negotiate. Still, this is what they have, and glory to the villagers for knuckling down and getting on with it, rather than risk piquing their guardians with protests that would leave them dead ended anyway.

Dangerous as it is the superhighway serves a need, and the villagers have this frightening ability to accept the adverse consequences of their guardians’ theft and ineptitude without a whimper, so they’re grateful enough that the obstacle course was at least started, which allows cautious travel to Pang Khorn without having to take the longer route via Sakon, philosophically surmising that this means one day that stretch will be finished, even if by then the rest of the road has fallen into disrepair.

Kim’s father works for some government road building outfit, and he says the money has been pencilled in to attend to about half of the superhighway stretch in two or three years, which in the timelessness of village life could be anytime between then and never.

The high street through the village, about 1.5 km, is potholed and in places dangerous, especially for newcomers, but this too is taken in their stride. It’s what Buddha gave them, and for this they’re thankful, with a single exception (see: Patching up the Road).

Many people keep cows and cows need to be walked for green every day and they don’t mind where they shit either, so the high street and sois are dotted with fresh to dried droppings and nobody complains because they’re Isaani villagers and Isaani villagers never complain about anything. Still, most would risk killing bystanders to avoid driving over a fresh pat because once it gets in your treads you’re taking it home and som nam naa.

Lots of soi dogs, forever on the prowl for food and generally back away from owned dogs, which ruthlessly protect their territory. It’s a hard life for a soi dog, and some of them look like they've been though a mill, so it's understandable that when one has been adopted it won’t take well to competition.

They’ve been the cause of three accidents that I know of in my 3 months here. Kim came a cropper when one ran in front of her, and now has a permanent scar on her foot where a pebble was embedded. The school’s assistant janitor Tey turned up dressed in multiple road rash after one seemed as though it was moving out of his way then had second thoughts. The other was a young girl on her bicycle, who ended up quite badly hurt when two dogs went for each other as she approached.

Attitudes are lax up here, probably much the same in any village, though it does take some getting used to seeing primary school kids routinely riding motorbikes, three up, four up, doesn't matter much because nobody pays attention. Mothers ride with tots in arm balancing any amount of cargo to or from farm or market. I've even seen a kid of 3 or 4 holding onto his younger sibling behind their mother. Of the 225 13-16 yr old kids at the secondary school, many travel to and fro by motorbike or bicycle, and you'd need more than 2 hands to count the number of bikes without brakes. Do the parents know? Sure they do. Do they care? Cocoa.

No landlines, but there are three public kiosks that work and I’m told have never been vandalised, possibly influenced by the fact that they’re rarely used and wouldn’t hold enough coins to get a soi dog tipsy. Everyone has mobiles but can’t see the point, not much use out here; DTAC offers rare to nonexistent connectivity, and though AIS is slightly better, it often means standing on tiptoe swivelling the phone in the air to try and latch onto a tenuous connection.

No post office. Posting a letter involves a trip to the next village, but no inconvenience at all since that can be done on the next mystery tour. Courteous service, smooth handling, am impressed that every item sent by regular mail to the UK has arrived within 8-10 days, and a package to Bangkok got there in two. It means having to reach the post office before 9.30, because that’s when the postmaster leaves to deliver his outgoing mail pouch to the district office in Pang Khorn, where he picks up incoming for delivery to his cluster of 8 villages. He reopens in the afternoon for a couple of hours, after his incoming has been delivered.

Otherwise, lots of rice land and forest, rubber trees seem to be sprouting all over the place, a clinic equipped to provide little more than first aid serves this and another two villages, and six cops man a large compound that serves two villages.

[CharleyFarley]

On the plus side you probably have multiple Mom & Pop stores selling at least 6 varieties of washing powder, toothpaste, shampoo, underarm deodorant, at least half a dozen garages, that have to go to town to get spare parts, at least two hardware store that sell exactly the same type of nails, blue piping, bum guns and concrete.

Oh and a Greenwing honda franchise with up to hundred gleaming new bikes and 20 or so reposessions outside.

If you drink Singha beer, then you are a millionaire.

[Travelmate]

Good effort. Green on the way,
Now can someone tell me the short version.

[ChiangMai noon]

best thread for a very long time.

i have nothing to add really.

i live in a village but it's only 30 minutes from Chiangmai centre and I have ADSL so it's not even comparable, this is as far from civilisation as I want to be for the time being.

[JoGeAr]

Good story. Brings back memories.

[Sir Burr]

The missus and her family are dead keen for me to visit in the village. I've managed to make half-arse convincing excuses for the past four years. When I did go there, I was treated like a king, but, the boredom just crushes me in a few hours. It's a shame, but, if I'm honest, I'd have to say I hate it.
Dunno how you guys do it, living in the boonies. To me it's the closest you can get to a living death.

[keda]

The missus and her family are dead keen for me to visit in the village. I've managed to make half-arse convincing excuses for the past four years. When I did go there, I was treated like a king, but, the boredom just crushes me in a few hours. It's a shame, but, if I'm honest, I'd have to say I hate it.
Dunno how you guys do it, living in the boonies. To me it's the closest you can get to a living death.

About the only thing that keeps me sane is my mystery tours, usually within a 15-20km radius of the village, the equivalent of enjoying a round of golf not just for the golf but to get me out of Pty.

Also hit a wall with my boook, which will probably never be finished but it's something to relieve the mind from the tedium of life in the jungle.

Oh, and sometimes I do get off on silence.

[Andrew Hicks]

The missus and her family are dead keen for me to visit in the village. I've managed to make half-arse convincing excuses for the past four years. When I did go there, I was treated like a king, but, the boredom just crushes me in a few hours. It's a shame, but, if I'm honest, I'd have to say I hate it.
Dunno how you guys do it, living in the boonies. To me it's the closest you can get to a living death.

About the only thing that keeps me sane is my mystery tours, usually within a 15-20km radius of the village, the equivalent of enjoying a round of golf not just for the golf but to get me out of Pty.

Also hit a wall with my boook, which will probably never be finished but it's something to relieve the mind from the tedium of life in the jungle.

Oh, and sometimes I do get off on silence.

The story of you and Kim is quite poignant. It reads well!

Don't give up on the book. It's worth persisting even if you don't ever put it between paper covers. Posting it on the web, possibly opening a Blogspot account may get you a much bigger readership than conventional publishing. Getting a book printed here is relatively easy... it's getting it distributed and sold that's more chancy.

Anyway I empathise with many of your experiences having served more than five years in a remote village south of you in Surin, the story of which is in my own recent book, MY THAI GIRL AND I.

It was a huge job to complete it and in many ways the real pleasure is my blog at Thai Girl which I can update with photos whenever I feel like it. Posting a story is just so immediate and satisfying. Getting a book out is slow and agonising. Doing the design and type setting we sat at a computer for over a week.

Anyway hang in there. Writing could be your salvation as it has been mine.

Andrew

[keda]

The missus and her family are dead keen for me to visit in the village. I've managed to make half-arse convincing excuses for the past four years. When I did go there, I was treated like a king, but, the boredom just crushes me in a few hours. It's a shame, but, if I'm honest, I'd have to say I hate it.
Dunno how you guys do it, living in the boonies. To me it's the closest you can get to a living death.

About the only thing that keeps me sane is my mystery tours, usually within a 15-20km radius of the village, the equivalent of enjoying a round of golf not just for the golf but to get me out of Pty.

Also hit a wall with my boook, which will probably never be finished but it's something to relieve the mind from the tedium of life in the jungle.

Oh, and sometimes I do get off on silence.

The story of you and Kim is quite poignant. It reads well!

Don't give up on the book. It's worth persisting even if you don't ever put it between paper covers. Posting it on the web, possibly opening a Blogspot account may get you a much bigger readership than conventional publishing. Getting a book printed here is relatively easy... it's getting it distributed and sold that's more chancy.

Anyway I empathise with many of your experiences having served more than five years in a remote village south of you in Surin, the story of which is in my own recent book, MY THAI GIRL AND I.

It was a huge job to complete it and in many ways the real pleasure is my blog at Thai Girl which I can update with photos whenever I feel like it. Posting a story is just so immediate and satisfying. Getting a book out is slow and agonising. Doing the design and type setting we sat at a computer for over a week.

Anyway hang in there. Writing could be your salvation as it has been mine.

Andrew

Thanks for your comments, but Life in the Village? No that'll never be a book, it was put together exclusively for TD...the book is Mon£y, another thread.

[Andrew Hicks]

The missus and her family are dead keen for me to visit in the village. I've managed to make half-arse convincing excuses for the past four years. When I did go there, I was treated like a king, but, the boredom just crushes me in a few hours. It's a shame, but, if I'm honest, I'd have to say I hate it.
Dunno how you guys do it, living in the boonies. To me it's the closest you can get to a living death.

About the only thing that keeps me sane is my mystery tours, usually within a 15-20km radius of the village, the equivalent of enjoying a round of golf not just for the golf but to get me out of Pty.

Also hit a wall with my boook, which will probably never be finished but it's something to relieve the mind from the tedium of life in the jungle.

Oh, and sometimes I do get off on silence.

The story of you and Kim is quite poignant. It reads well!

Don't give up on the book. It's worth persisting even if you don't ever put it between paper covers. Posting it on the web, possibly opening a Blogspot account may get you a much bigger readership than conventional publishing. Getting a book printed here is relatively easy... it's getting it distributed and sold that's more chancy.

Anyway I empathise with many of your experiences having served more than five years in a remote village south of you in Surin, the story of which is in my own recent book, MY THAI GIRL AND I.

It was a huge job to complete it and in many ways the real pleasure is my blog at Thai Girl which I can update with photos whenever I feel like it. Posting a story is just so immediate and satisfying. Getting a book out is slow and agonising. Doing the design and type setting we sat at a computer for over a week.

Anyway hang in there. Writing could be your salvation as it has been mine.

Andrew

Thanks for your comments, but Life in the Village? No that'll never be a book, it was put together exclusively for TD...the book is Mon£y, another thread.

Okay, so we agree! TD is a good forum for your story.

I haven't gathered what the book is all about but I sure hope it makes you loads of m$ney.

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

Andrew

[Travelmate]

family are dead keen for me to visit in the village

Likewise mine pester me every year.

convincing excuses for the past four years.

Same but for five years

When I did go there, I was treated like a king

as always. but it soon wears off.

the boredom just crushes me in a few hours

The one thing that makes life unbearable in the village. Completely boring and not much is going on.

I'd have to say I hate it.

Likewise.

it's the closest you can get to a living death.

That about the most accurate statement I have heard.

[Ivor Biggun]

Now can someone tell me the short version

Hopefully he'll bring out a video

[sabang]

Great thread Keda, out of ammo right now but not for long.

Really following this one with interest, because I'm trailing your footsteps in a few months (once we get this pile rented). Our village is 33km from Ubon, and we've got a decent enough house standing there. Basic creature comforts, smattering of farangs (sporadic drinking circle down the village shop), and exciting downtown Ubon within commuting distance on a decent road. So, hopefully not too cut off- then again minor details such as Internet and Sat TV yet to be addressed.

I've loved my time in the house upcountry so far, but with my longest stay being 4 days, much yet to find out. How long before the bliss of the quiet nights is replaced by stultifying boredom? And what to do about it. The myriad insects that fascinate me (we have them in droves, being on the edge of a forest)- how long before they are a pain in the arse? Our Family hamlet outside the village is nice- so far. Will this last? And so on.

I've promised Mrs sabang a minimum 3 month sentence, and an open mind. Two possible escape routes if it just can't be made to work for me, or us:-
Pad in Ubon, life spent between ubon and village.
Back to the darkside of Pattaya, rent a smaller place more appropriate to our needs. This pile, rented, is our earner.

Life's next adventure.

[MeMock]

Great thread Keda, out of ammo right now but not for long.

Really following this one with interest, because I'm trailing your footsteps in a few months (once we get this pile rented). Our village is 33km from Ubon, and we've got a decent enough house standing there. Basic creature comforts, smattering of farangs (sporadic drinking circle down the village shop), and exciting downtown Ubon within commuting distance on a decent road. So, hopefully not too cut off- then again minor details such as Internet and Sat TV yet to be addressed.

I've loved my time in the house upcountry so far, but with my longest stay being 4 days, much yet to find out. How long before the bliss of the quiet nights is replaced by stultifying boredom? And what to do about it. The myriad insects that fascinate me (we have them in droves, being on the edge of a forest)- how long before they are a pain in the arse? Our Family hamlet outside the village is nice- so far. Will this last? And so on.

I've promised Mrs sabang a minimum 3 month sentence, and an open mind. Two possible escape routes if it just can't be made to work for me, or us:-
Pad in Ubon, life spent between ubon and village.
Back to the darkside of Pattaya, rent a smaller place more appropriate to our needs. This pile, rented, is our earner.

Life's next adventure.

Wow Sabang, looks like we will be travelling the same road together almost.

In 3 weeks time we leave for Thailand to move into our small house that we have built in the village, also in Ubon. A lot more isolated then you however and no farang for at least 20 miles.
If a business opportunity comes off that I have been working on then we will stay, if not we will hang around until February. So for the short term there will be no satellite TV, furniture etc - the nearest western newspaper is 70kms away! It will be interesting!

[keda]

Lucky you...farangs? No farangs within range, and the only ones I've spotted are those following tiraks around BigC Sakon on a Saturday. Actually got talking with one, he was about to dump her and return to Oz, the way he put it to me, horrified that his girl could take to such a life. Didn't bother explaining that's where she was born, so to her it's natural.

Which direction from Ubon are you, and good that it's convenient for commuting. Ours is the weekly highlight for an MK and shopping.

I still haven't got used to the insects and absolutely refuse to, though they seem to be invisible to Isaanis who'll chomp away oblivious to ants and other insects in their plates and dishes. From day one I would not eat anything that isn't cooked by Kim.

Do yourself a favour, get used to insects by all means because you have little choice, and of course compromise is a useful commodity when you step into the jungle, but strive to maintain standards and draw those closest to you up to you, rather than you to them, especially in regard to hygiene.

I won't be here forever and it hasn't and hopefully won't happen to me, but in private moments I've noticed that 3 months in the sticks has quietly taken its toll with me dressing down and shaving less frequently, and annoyingly not so fussed about simply deleting ants that don't belong on my keyboard.

Good luck.

[keda]

Life in the Village

03 – A bit about the family

A few chapters to go yet, but let’s start by introducing the family.

Kim, now 30, teaches English at the 14-teacher secondary school. At the risk of sounding biased, she’s sweet and was innocent till we met, and one of only four teachers that care a toss whether anyone learns anything or if the roof caves in; the others are there for the money and an easy life.

Born and brought up and at the village most of her life, she has many village traits, quite separate from Thai traits, some of which are infuriating, but for the most part these go by without much friction. The buffalo shuffle took a while to overcome, but she got the message when I finally offered to buy her a nose ring so she could look as well as walk like a kwai.

Ma, 54, a kind and dignified woman, talks much of the time, at first I thought to herself but later discovered they can mumble a running conversation from 10-12 meters and through intruding noises with their inbuilt graphic equaliser. So she isn’t mad, just very normal. Never raises her voice, poor all of her life but an ardent Buddhist who has always given a portion of whatever she has to the local fleecing station. Makes merit every weekend, and pointless trying to explain that the money and food she’s handed over to the elite through her decades of poverty haven’t helped her one bit to escape from it; both parents believe, and if they're richer for that then all well and good. I like her very much, a truly wonderful person that just gets on with life thankful that her family is healthy and there’s food in the bowl.

Too much rice land for her and dad to cope with, sod all chance of the crunt

helping out, and I got so pissed off watching him watching her toil away during the rice prep period that we offered to go halves with her to hire outsiders to do it, but only if she promised to keep out of the paddies. She balked at paying money to others, and for work of all things, but finally agreed, and next day there she was, up to her knees in mud.

Plan B kicked in, and out of sheer frustration we offered to pay the lot, about 11k for a package covering several phases for the 5+2 rai (see: Rice), on condition that she sticks to cooking and cleaning and other tame domestics. Agreed, and next day there she was again, up to her knees in mud. Well, we did try the carrot, now the stick had to be brandished, and Kim agrees we (she) will ask for the 3200 we paid up front, when the surplus rice is sold, I think in November. No problem, I’m really not keeniow, and I think ma knows the money will return to her purse one way or the other, but she also needs to learn to keep to her word, at least to the farang.

Pa, shy, quiet, nice enough bloke but not much communication; either he talks Lao with a smattering of Thai or my Thai is not as good as I thought. Still, we can get by at a basic level. Looks weedy but under the scruffy shirt is rock, the result of forty-something years of toil. I like picking up titbits about how things work and grow, being useless with my hands but in the vicinity and with little else to ponder, and as an avid gardener he appreciates that. He’s a government worker in Sakon, billeted onsite weekdays and returns home Friday for the weekend. No days off, though, not for him, there’s the veggie patch to attend to, and enough other work around the place to keep him busy. Gets on with it, no complaints, that’s the life he knows and he’s never happier than when in the veggie patch or fixing whatever’s falling apart.

The dragon fruit (see: Dragon Fruit) was the catalyst for his latest project, so I offered to bring in hired help for a month or two, to do the heavy stuff to get him started on clearing, preparing and extending his veggie patch in 3 directions, but he won’t have it...must do it himself, he says, because that way it’ll get done and properly.

Used to piss off the women by getting drunk every couple of days, no violence or aggression, he would just curl up into himself and talk nonsense. He’s been on the wagon for a couple of years, so we can forgive him for the occasional fall, the last one having us embark on a 100km trek on dangerous roads by bike at night in the cold and rain looking for him…meanwhile, he was at the back of mamasan’s place, right next door to where we started off, getting lashed with the rodents.

Brother Ai, aka the crunt: an irresponsible, inconsiderate, stubborn, ungrateful, disrespectful 28-year old layabout. Did his 3-month stint as a monk, then 3 months in some factory where he learnt about work for a living, reckons that’s his dues paid for life, and has the family well conditioned to supporting him through indefinite unemployment whilst maintaining an air of indifference to them. He resents my appearance on the scene, not because I’m with his sister, but for seeing through his infantile attitude, and not playing ball.

They accommodate and feed and otherwise support him, yet the only time he smiles or has anything to say to them is when he needs money; not quite, but thereabouts. Lounges around most days on his upstairs balcony bed watching soaps or listening to music, or if ma working too hard piques his conscience he’ll shoot off to be with his mates, preferably over some bottles if someone’s pockets are bulging with a day’s wages.

He does cook sometimes, mostly for himself or if mates are coming round, and often returns from a fishing overnight with a bag of catch to prepare, but when there’s proper work to be done at home he’ll vanish, so Mum has to gather and chop the wood, collect hoys from the rice fields, bust her ass in the veggie patch and do whatever else is needed around the place, always with cheer and never asking him to help out because she’s probably also figured he’s a useless crunt.

She’s paying the last dozen or so instalments on his Honda, which pisses me off because it’s effectively our money, which Kim understands, and pa pays for his petrol; still, he never leaves his key in the ignition, in case someone might use it, rolls it into the kitchen at night, stands it on small wood blocks when it’s resting, and makes sure it’s clean and shiny as new; that’s good, but treats the damn thing with higher regard than he does his family, which isn’t.

No girlfriend and bladder told me from day one he’s gay, but should he end up marrying a village lass he’ll give her a kid, realise as they do too late that kids equate to responsibility, and chase the sunset. Still, mongers throughout the land ought to be grateful to village rats like Ai, for keeping places like Pattaya well stocked with disenchanted farm fresh young mothers.

Nasty piece of work and deserves a good hiding, though from what I’ve seen around the village no less unashamedly barefaced than his peers. Must’ve been adopted, couldn’t have been produced by such nice people.

On one occasion I was facing away from him talking with Kim, who was washing some dishes. Suddenly I felt a thud bang centre of my back, and instinctively turned, catching his reflection via the kitchen window as he dropped into a squat to continue washing some bike part. I let that pass, important was to know what was on my back, so I asked Kim to look, she squealed, it was a large gecko, which she brushed off.

Never mind the defence team squawking about how it ‘might’ have got there. Sure it’s conceivable to frivolous minds that it could have been caught by a bird that lost its grip in flight and it fell onto the middle of my back, or even a new flying specie we haven’t yet discovered, but to a reasonable person geckos don’t fall from the sky to land dead centre of peoples’ backs whilst they’re standing, and just as a reflection shows someone behind diving into a preoccupied squat.

Whether he expected to shock me so he could laugh about it with his compadres, I’ll never know, but brought it up with Kim later, asked if she’s ever seen or heard of a gecko fall from a roof, or for that matter, from anywhere...nope...from the sky, then? – of course not. So, how do you reckon it arrived there? She thought about it, then asked, wasn’t Ai behind you? I nodded, and she said yes he can be very impolite. Case solved, and since then though I’m pretty sure he won’t repeat it I make a point of turning to face him square whenever routine traffic by either of us has him threaten to be behind me, just to let him know I know.

Most of the extended family live together about a km away at the other end of the village high street.

There’s grandmum, or Yai…

…prefers to crawl, but can walk with spine almost parallel to the ground from 50+ years working the fields, more so than the other deformed biddies, and respected not just for her age but that trophy. She sits around all day welcoming the occasional visitor as she waits for some activity when the kids return from nursery and primary school.

We used to buy her an extravagant fortnightly 12-box of chicken essence (560 bt), then discovered a % of them would end up at the fleecing station, so now she’s demoted to Laktasoy at a more reasonable 10 bt. This set her squawking that the chicken soup is better because it made her hungry, but am told the nearest she may have came to the stuff before I arrived was shuffling by it on a supermarket shelf on the handful of occasions in her seventy-odd years that she left the village. Sorry and all that but Laktasoy is also good, it says so on the pack.

Also at ‘Yai’s’ is Fat Lady, Ma’s Younger Sis,

who generally looks after everything and everyone at the other end. The mother hen, forever scraping and eager to earn at farang rates, so did some house cleaning for us at 100 baht a turn. I thought I fired her for consistently being unable to see cobwebs or anything else off the main traffic routes, but I’m just the dumb farang paymaster and she still turns up for an hour every week or so to help Kim spread the dust for another pinky.

In my early days at the village she used to mystically appear at ma’s place minutes after we arrived, every time, and always left with a carrier or two of whatever we brought from Sakon. Nowadays we spend no less, but bring more of it to the house, and from there Kim allocates stuff for the family and extended.

Could be I’m a boring old fart, but I’d like to think it’s the language barrier for her never acknowledging my existence. Still, I like her. She has her work and responsibilities cut out as the family’s kiddie dumping ground, and looks after the offspring of those away from the village.

With Yai and 2 kids of her own to look after, she currently cares for another two whose parents send her a pittance each month, but nowhere near enough to cover their food; not like they’re into Waldorf fayre either. Looks like that’s the way it works in Thailand, produce babies and if for whatever reason you can’t care for them there’s always someone to nurse them through till you’re ready to take over. Try that in the UK and someone would make a whispered call and parents would be harassed as the kids are snatched away for foster care.

Any food we have left over, sometimes little more than scraps I’d be embarrassed to offer to anyone, ends up at Yai’s. First time I noticed some real food in with the scraps I distracted Kim, slipped in some more, and since then we both know the score.

Run out of gas, no plobrem, she'll jump onto the nearest bike and off into the woods to pick up enough firewood for however many days it takes for her to scrape together 295 baht for a topup. Needs lime, leaves or a papaya for somtam, on a bike to ma’s or another family plot to commandeer some.

Hard life, and shoulders it without a murmur; come to think of it nobody ever complains about anything in the village, because nobody would listen.

This is Gow...



14, and at Kim's school. He's been with Fat Lady since his parents left the village about 4 years ago. Before that, he had a mental or emotional disorder, possible epilepsy from the little I know about it, so they cut open his head to enter the brain. He still has a deep scar on the right side of his head, where hair will never grow again.

His younger brother Got (pic pending) has been adopted by ma, so he stays at the family home most nights.

Then there’s ma’s other younger sis, ma’s older sis, here with what must be the prettiest tot in the village, whose parents split up and neither can afford to keep the kid, and as she doesn't have anyone to care for since her daughter found her way to Pattaya, but that's another story...she's adopted the littl'un...




after which we have a bunch of aunts and uncles and other kids and adults that seem to come out of the woodwork at feeding time.

Kids? – don’t talk to me about kids!

The place is crawling with them, mostly cuties but lots of them, and cuties tend to grow up. Whenever we visit Yai one particular cutie

climbs onto the bike frame and starts squealing...she knows where I’m taking her, and whichever other kids are there will join the frenzy. When everyone’s aboard it’s off to the nearest store for a drink and knom per head. Yai used to protest that we’re spoiling them, but they have sod all tenderness and zero entertainment after nursery other than improvise or go into zombie mode, so let them have something to break the monotony. Anyway, her protests miraculously ceased when I started bringing back a drink and knom for her, too.

Yes I do know riding with four or five up is not bright, and also no matter how careful one is accidents can still happen, but wtf it’s the village after all and risking 5 lives for a drink and knom is a no brainer.

[sabang]

Which direction from Ubon are you

NNE- roughly half way between Ubon and Trakhan Phutphon we turn off the main Rd.

still haven't got used to the insects and absolutely refuse to

Growing up in Oz affords me some immunity to this.

dressing down and shaving less frequently

Already happened- I imagine it will get no better in Isaan. I took to being a slob quite easily.

Just a thought- there may be more farang life in Nakhon than you've encountered. Apart from schoolies and retiree's, I believe there are some farang pilots employed up there teaching Thai to fly. Might be worth sniffing around the TV Isaan forum, or asking the pale faces you encounter at Big C about this- theres bound to be a place or two that farangs hang out, and where something with chips can be eaten.

[keda]

^15^
I don't know any of those places but heard of Ubon so if you're within stumbling distance that's a good start.

Oh and I don't mind being a slob, never been anything but, just that insects and dirt haven't been part of my life since the beatnik days.

[sabang]

^^ TD is going feral. Depending on where you are in Ubon, possibly we can combine trips to town and catch up for a beer sometime.

[MUSTY]

Nice thread Keda.
Dear Sabang, Sabang 2 going well, and then what you ask. Well, next year I am going to live in the village. Well at our small farm just outside the village, Bang Meng village, 40 minutes out of Khon Kaen. I am going to build a tennis court and bring a good ski boat with me. So, if any of you want a little stretch out and a bit of networking, please let me know. Into squash, golf, whatever.
I will be looking out for some teak door playmates. Look forward to catching up.

[Zpete]

Great monologue, keda, loved it all.

Kiwi here, who has an English guy, resident in Thailand, originally from UK boarding for awhile.

He just loves his village life, Thai wife and son he is devoted too.

Always wanted to try life in a village, but opportunity never found me.

Guess I will have to make do with the bustling metropolis of Chalong, my regular Thai place for hols,..... read boozing and wot goes with it.

[sabang]

more farang life in Nakhon than you've encountered

Sorry Keda, got you confused with Nakon Phanom (a few farang there). You're in Sakon Nakhon- the neighbouring Province. Paleface fairly thin on the ground.

S'pose, if it all gets a bit much, you can drive to the bright lights of Udon for a few days.

[Fabian]

Great thread and writing style, I really like it, Keda. Brings back some of the better memories.