Gay Boy Thailand

A boy from the park 1 - 5

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The teaser part 1-7

I am back in the Big City. I had my fill of relatives and country scenes.

When trying to find the car rental place to return the car I took a wrong turn and ended up on the road to suburbia. Ah, suburbia, my former home. I decided to go to my old street and look.

The guy that bought my apartment had kept my balcony plants. They were just as when I left four years ago, except more wild-growing.

I saw this when passing by in the car. Nothing about this place said “ring the doorbell and come in for a cup of tea”, neither with the neighbours nor with the new owner of my apartment.

Then the shopping centre and the bus stop. I saw a man walking his dog, I saw kids on bikes with regulation helmets, I saw a goth teenage girl with heavy makeup. Nothing had changed. It was if I still lived in suburbia. Yes, I could feel it. Due to a fluctuation in Einstein’s space-time I was now in a parallel universe where I had never moved to Thailand, and never met Chalerm, I was still living here, feeling miserable, my only entertainment ogling cute but unavailable boys in the neighbourhood.

Oh dread. Oh painful longing. How could I stand the suburb and the boredom for so long? It was like an endurance test in social, emotional and sexual deprivation.

I had my little projects though. I had a crush for several years on Mr. Teaser, the gay boy who thought that he could wear red fingernails and makeup and still everyone would think he was straight. And so they did - or at least they said so to his face.

I found Teaser to be incredibly cute the first time I saw him walk down the street. And I saw him again, and again, which proved that he lived nearby. Bliss was to sit next to him on the bus, with Mr. Teaser seemingly an indifferent youth who was listening to music on his player, looking out the window and taking no notice of me.

But he did notice me. He was an expert in using window reflections and his side vision to look without looking, to follow me without revealing himself. And when he sank into the bus seat, spreading his legs and his fashionable baggy pants, he might have done this to hide an erection.

2

I realised he was showing off. He was strutting, flirting, seducing. It was in his body language one day when I was right behind him when we both left the bus at the same time. Nobody else were around and I wish I had the courage to speak to him. But speak to him about what? Hello gorgeous, you are so cute I want to shag you right now if you don’t mind?

I watched his body. He had a white t-shirt, a tight one, it enhanced his body and made the bare skin on his arms and neck look good. I watched his movements. His hips were well-oiled. He walked with the grace and agility of a self-confident gay youth.

I followed him for a block but from a distance. I didn’t want to bother him or scare him. He went around a corner and was gone from the street. Where did he go?

I went home obsessing about him. What could I do? I called up a friend who shares my taste.

- Chat him up, said my friend on the phone.

- Chat him up about what?

- Anything.

- Maybe I should say I want to get to know him.

- No, you can’t say that. It’s too obvious. You must keep it vage. Remember, never say anything compromising. Don’t reveal your motives in a way someone else can quote or tell others about. Or do you want to be known as the Dirty Old Man of your neighbourhood?

- I could live with that if only I got laid.

- If you get a reputation they will all avoid you. Speak to him about something neutral. Smile. But don’t spill the beans.

- I am nervous. I can’t think of anything to say. And smiling is the last thing I will feel like doing. I will be a major jerk class A idiot trying to chat up a young pretty thing like him in public.

- Yes. But if you don’t you will never get anywhere. He is not going to take the initiative, is he?

I knew my friend was right. Mr. Teaser was not going to take any initiative. He would expect me to do the opening if he was interested, and I could not be sure if he was or not.

I tried to imagine the worst thing that could happen. OK. I speak to the pretty boy and make a complete fool of myself, stuttering, my face turning red, leaving him to think I am a weirdo sicko, and then he tells everyone else and avoids me for life. How about that? Yes, that could be a realistic worst case.

I noticed Mr. Teaser went to the city in the afternoon and came back at night. He was often on the last bus from town. It was summer holiday and few people on the bus. Once it was only the driver, Mr. Teaser and I on the bus. I kicked myself for not sitting down next to him, but it would have been unusual to do that in an empty bus. I knew Ihad to prepare better. I had to come up with a plan.

3

I would never sink as low as to be on the last bus from town just because I hoped a boy I had a crush on would be on it too. That would be pathetic. Go downtown and back just hoping to see him? What kind of desperate behaviour, worthy of a lovestruck teenage girl, would that be?

So of course I was on the last bus for a very good reason, an excellent reason it was, and completely unrelated to Mr. Teaser. And he was there too, sitting a couple of seats ahead of me. This was my moment. He saw me and he put on his headphones. I noticed his home decorated handbag. How gay.

The bus took off. I should walk over to him and sit down on the seat next to him. There were few others on the bus. Nobody would think it was unusual. Maybe they thought I knew the boy. I could be his teacher. Or (blush) his father. But I hesitated. What if one of his buddies came on and saw me sitting there with Mr. Teaser? That would be awkward. Better wait a bit. And wait some more.

With only three stops and two minutes left I finally got up and moved over to the boy.

- Is this seat taken? I asked.

What a stupid question. He didn’t reply, he just gave me a side glance and kept listening to the music.

I gave him the l the paper note I had prepared. It had my phone number on it. Mr. Teaser took the headphones out of his ears and said in an uneasy voice:

- What is this about?

- Just my number, I said. - Have you modelled before?

- Are you a photographer? asked the boy, more interested now.

- It is my hobby, I said. - I am looking for someone to model for me. You look like you could do it.

The boy was flattered. He asked if I knew his workplace, a cafe in the city. He was a waiter there. The place, I later learned, was a leftie-greenie alternative cafe where local radicals plotted world revolution and the downfall of capitalism.

The two minutes were up. My stop was before his and I said good night to the boy. He smiled and wished me a good night too.

I got off the bus in a good mood. I had broken the barrier and spoken to him. The sky had not fallen and now he had my phone number. When would he call?

But as I soon was to discover this was the best part. Next came trouble. Stupid, avoidable trouble that I still could do nothing about.

4

I waited a couple of days before getting on the midnight bus again. When I boarded it downtown the Teaser was there, cute as ever. He was with a group of friends so I repressed my urge to walk over to him. Instead I sat down two rows ahead of him, on the other side of the isle. It was far enough not to be noticable, yet close enough to watch what was going on.
I had brought my camera gear and a tripon on the bus. Not that I had been taking any pictures, I was just following up my conversation with the boy. Showing off a pro-looking camera would strenghten my case with him, I thought.

Teaser sat by himself, with his feet tucked up under him, looking in my direction while talking to others behind him. I could hear everything they said. Teaser lowered his voice and I understood he was talking about me. He and his friends lowered their voices only when they said something they thought I would pick up was about me. This was not enough. Dropping a word here and there, or asking a question quietly while the answer was spoken in a normal voice made it easy to fill in the gaps.

- See that guy over there, said Teaser.

- What about him, said the friend, a dark Latino-looking boy.

- Yesterday he asked me if I would model for him.

- Is he a photographer?

- Yes. See the gear he has?

- Why did he ask YOU? Is he a f… homo? asked the Latino in an angry voice.

- Uh? He didn’t say anything about that, replied the Teaser, taken by surprise.

- I would beat him until he said he wasn’t a f… homo, said the Latino.

- Why would you do that? said the Teaser, turning pale. He sounded shocked.

The boys stopped talking. A girl sitting across the isle sensed the tension and asked Teaser: - What is wrong?

Nobody said anything. The gay boy looked ill at ease.

I had not turned or in any way signalled that I followed their conversation. Filling in the missing silently spoken words like “homo” was easy. For a second I considered raising up, turning to them and saying “Yes, I am a f… homo. And so what?”

But I didn’t do that. Partly this event had taken me by surprise, unfolding at high speed just as I had only seconds left to my bus stop. Partly my concern was that I should not do anything to put Teaser, the obvious little queeny boy, in a worse position. So I pretended I had heard nothing and seen nothing as I got up and left the bus in front of the tense group of youths on the bus. I didn’t even look at them as I carried my camera gear out.

As the bus drove off I saw they had started taking again, with Teaser rising up in his seat while saying something to the girl.

I went home wondering how my plot could go so wrong so quickly.

5

Next time I saw the boy of my desire was a Saturday night. A crowd of people were waiting for the bus at night and he was in it. The bad news was that the Latino gay basher was there too.

I went near the boys, but not too near, and pretended to mind my own business. Teaser was aware I was there. He came closer, showing off, shaking his butt at me. Yes, he really did that. One should think fem gay boys attend classes in strutting, butt-posing and glancing over their shoulders as it is the same the world over, from Farangland to Thailand. I guess it is built into them.

I tried not to stare or drool too obviously. But a nasty look from the Latino boy told me that he had noticed how I admired his friend. The Latino said something into the ear of Teaser, and the two went up the street a little. Teaser led his Latino friend away as if he was a kindergarden teacher separating kids who would fight if they were together.

So Teaser was trying to keep everyone happy. I guessed the Latino had said something bad about me again, and Teaser’s response was to smooth things over. Teaser had obviously not come out with his friend. He had taken the Latino’s gay-hate talk without standing up to it.

The friendship between the beautiful gay Teaser and his crude Latino friend was mysterious. Teaser was intelligent and well-spoken. He was an intellectual in the making and loved to discuss things, often with an greenie-leftie angle. The Latino was not the brightest. Teaser was better off and seemed destined for higher education and a brainy or artistic career.

The two boys were so different that I guessed their friendship had lasted from childhood. They were neigbours and probably grew up together. They were of the same age and must have attended school together, being playmates. There was something caring in the way Teaser pulled his friend out of trouble, as if he knew all about the Latino’s attitudes and temper but valued his friend and chose to gently manage him instead of telling him to get lost.

I could imagine the two as kids, the Latino hard-hitting but ignorant, and Teaser a fragile but smart girlie boy who needed the protection of the Latino.

He is jealous, I thought. The Latino is jealous! There was more to his outbursts than plain old gay bashing. The intensity of it had another source as well. The Latino was possessive about his friend. I don’t think there was ever anything sexual between them. I can’t imagine that. But the roles the two played suggested the Latino saw Teaser as his quasi-girlfriend, as someone pretty and nice who was his.

Not that the Latino would ever admit such an aspect to his friendhip with Teaser, or even be capable of formulating this in his mind. But I saw it. Teaser and the Latino had a couple-like friendship going back a long time, and the Latino became agressive when I appeared on the scene.

How ironic. The macho homo-hating Latino had a friendship with Teaser with homo-erotic undertones.

There is nothing like denial to fuel someone’s hate. I had stepped on the Latino’s denial by accidendent. It was implied in his talk that he had no idea Teaser was gay. How could he never had suspected that? Anyone with half a gaydar, or with reasonable social intelligence, would at least wonder about a boy like Teaser. Just Teaser’s cute un-manly voice was enough to give him away when I listened in on his discussions with others in public.

A few days later, again on the bus, I was delighted to see Teaser sit alone near the back of the bus. I went over to sit next to him. But as I approached him a slight shift in his body language made me hesitate. I sensed he didn’t want me to join him. He said nothing and I said nothing. I really wanted to talk to him again. But something held me back, and as a compromise I sat down in the seat in front of him instead.

The reason for Teaser’s stay-away signals became clear half a minute later. The Latino boarded the bus and sat down in the seat Teaser had held for him.

This darn Latino. Why did he always show up at the worst possible moment? I was tired of him. Give me five minutes alone with Teaser, is that too much too ask?

The two boys were chatting behind me. I was in the seat directly in front of the Latino, slightly to the side of Teaser, who had the window seat. I looked discreetly at Teaser. He was extra good looking that day, having had his hair done. He wore light makeup. The makeup was not noticable as such but his skin imperfections were gone and his nose and cheekbones looked better. It was makeup well done.

I wanted to flirt with Teaser. He was irresistable. When I looked at him he looked back at me in the reflection from the bus window, supressing a smile. He had the glow of youth and that sunny self-confidence which comes from undeniable good looks.

I decided I would pretend the Latino wasn’t there.

6

I turned to look at Teaser. He did not make eye contact but looked straight ahead. I smiled at him. Again Teaser did not respond, but I could tell he liked to be admired. He lifted his head ever so little, as if to give me a better look, and all of him seemed to get a boost of self-confidence from my attention.

I turned and smiled at Teaser two more times during our 20 minute bus ride. I did not look at the Latino, who was giving off negative signals but who didn’t dare say anything now that I was so close.

That was all. A bit of smiling on the bus. But the next day the Latino wanted revenge.

The Latino was in the company of three other boys, again on the bus. I recognised the others as members of the same circle that Teaser belonged to. Teaser was not there. As usual I sat in front of them, within hearing range, and as usual they thought I was not capable of filling in the missing words when they whispered.

- Do you want to know who is gay? asked the Latino.

- Actually I am not very interested, said the boy who sat next to him, a guy with bleached hair and a goatee.

- That man over there, said the Latino, nodding in my direction.

- How do you know?

- He gave Teaser flirty smiles on the bus yesterday.

- Really?

- And he asked Teaser to model for him.

- Well, that might be a pickup trick, said the boy with the goatee.

The boys fell silent. The Latino had not succeeded in making a scandal by outing me. The others were neither shocked nor terribly curious about it. But there was something awkward about their silence. Something unspoken was in the air. I knew what it was.

So this man on the bus had been flirting with Teaser? the boys thought. Teaser, the guy with the red fingernails and all the female friends he kept hugging but not shagging?

This is what they thought but did not say. And this was the Latino boy’s blind spot. The others could see that a man trying to pick up Teaser was part of a logical chain of events, something that, when it happened, they could see had been coming for years. Teaser had grown up as a pretty sissy boy and his friends had made their guesses about what his sexual orientation might be. If Teaser was involved in a gay flirth they were not surprised.

Sure it was pickup trick. But it was also a serious offer. If I could not get Teaser in my bed getting him in front of a camera would also make my day. I had planned the location, a small park near where we both lived. He could pose in front of a wall with grafitti to look cool, and sit on a white bench under a tree to look sweet. I did not intend to bring him home. I would take the photos in public and give him copies later. Then, if he was interested in seeing me again, I could suggest he came to visit me.

This was the plan. It was a good plan I thought, but the Latino was trying to screw it up.

Teaser had my phone number and I waited for him to call. Someone called two or three times and hung up without speaking. I traced the number to an adress near Teaser’s bus stop. But I didn’t know his family name or exactly where he lived, so I could not be sure if it was him or not. I had to wait and see if he would contact me.

7

The boy never called. I waited and waited and hoped and hoped, but he never called. I was obsessed with him, making him the prince in my daydreams. But he never took any initiative, on the phone or when I saw him in person.

I wondered if I could have done something different or better. But I don’t know. I had to take my chances. One can only try and see what happens. Chatting him up was always a long shot, an enterprise with modest chances of success but with the risk of getting eggs all over my face.

The fuss with the Latino was impossible to predict. Or rather – I knew some kind of anti-gay reaction was possible, either from Teaser himself or from other people around him. I had hoped he would have the good sense to keep the first conversation we had to himself. But he was young and excitable and had to share the news. He had not seen my ulterior motives or the implications – which the Latino spotted right away.

But I kept running into Teaser. An understanding developed between us. He realised that I fancied him, and he didn’t mind. He realised that I was gay and that I understood that he was too. He trusted me not to say or do anything compromising in front of his friends, and I never did.

Teaser earned his nickname by continuing to flirt with me. He was a tease. For years we played this game, in particular on the bus. I was the admirer and he was the admired. Our speciality was crowd flirting. He looked in the corner of his eye to see if I was behind him, breathing down his neck in the line waiting to enter the bus. And when I was there he became more energetic and strutted and showed off a bit, always enjoying the attention even as he was talking to someone else. If I avoided him he would look around, wondering where I had gone. I was supposed to be two steps behind him as his private but secret cheerleader.

I never touched Teaser. After the initial trouble with the gay-bashing Latino I became extra careful. With other gay boys on the bus or in the neighbourhood, others that gave me flirty signals, I could “accidentally” touch their butts when walking past them, or bump into them from the side, or let my arm stroke theirs. They in turn could respond by putting their hands briefly on my leg, or by doing some other discreet but significant manoeuvre to indicate they appreciated the effort. This was harmless fun and something that cheered me up. But it did not happen often, and with Teaser never at all.

Should I have any regrets? Nothing came out of my campaign to seduce Teaser. I never dated him. I only spoke to him once more, again on the bus, at a time when the only available seat was next to him. He was friendly and we did some neutral chatting. He turned to check if any of his friends were listening from the back of the bus, but none of them were there. Even so, when I was about to leave I received a suspicious look from an older man who sat in front of me. It takes one to know one, so he was probably just envious I was talking to the boy.

The last time I saw Teaser was the week before I moved to Thailand. He was in a shopping centre, alone, going up an escalator. He had seemed to go through a personal crisis for a while. He was often in a bad mood. He started smoking and became thin. He grew his hair longer and messier.

Once I saw him and the Latino on a double date – with girls. A busty blonde, dressed like one of the radical people he spent time with in the cafe, kissed Teaser on the lips.

Was he not gay after all? Please. Maybe the girl was an alibi. Maybe he was still confused and hoping to be at least bisexual, as I did when I was his age, but I don’t think he could fool anyone for long.

The Teaser affair was a failure, but it was still a step forward for me. It was the first time I had used my gaydar to spot someone. Earlier I had relied on gay bars and other safe places. It was also the first time I had the courage to chat up a stranger in public with gay intentions. From that perspective it went well. Nobody formed a basher gang to beat me up. The Latino may have wanted to, but he received no support from others and he was too cowardly to confront me alone. Nobody called me names, at least not to my face. The rumour about my sexuality did not spread like wildfire in suburbia. Again the Latino may have wished it did, but the gossip died from lack of interest. Nobody cared. Nobody called me a dirty old man, and nobody made allegations that I was up to something illegal. And I wasn’t – Teaser was a couple of years above the age limit when I first spoke to him. He was legal and bonkable, but I was not his type. I guess I was too old for him. And Teaser was the sincere serious sort who was unlikely to go for a one-night stand just for the fun of it.

Teaser, the object of my advances, did not mind what I did. Actually I think getting cruised by a man was a step forward for him too, even if he wasn’t interested in me.

Where is he now? I haven’t seen him since I moved to Thailand. By coincidence I wrote the first four chapters of this story in Teaser’s old café in Farangland. Or rather, the café is gone and replaced by a modern apartment building, and I happened to stay in it earlier this month. Was this a sign from the gods that I should not forget Teaser? Hardly. It was a sign that the rads had rented space for their café in a cheap old building marked for demolition.

My guess is that Teaser has moved out of town, maybe even out of the country. He was international in his outlook and he wanted to save the planet. He wanted to do good. I imagine he is in the 3rd world somewhere, saving the rain forest by hugging one tree at a time.

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How I met my boyfriend 24

I missed Chalerm. I took out the pictures I had taken of him in the park and the first time we went to Anyburi by bus. The pictures made me miss him even more. He looked so sincere in those pictures. He was not a sophisticated city type, he was a country boy and it showed in his dress and his unpretentious manners.

I missed his soft skin. Chalerm smelled good. Thai boys don’t smell much, but what little odour they have is pleasant. I even missed his cheeky tricks. He liked to blow air in my ear. I could not remain still in bed when he did that. He liked to tickle me too. But that didn’t work anymore. I was too used to him. Try tickling yourself. You can’t. That’s because you are relaxed. I was so relaxed with Chalerm now that he couldn’t tickle me either.

He was a real Thai boy and genuine. Such boys are not easy to find. How did I find him? Wrong question - he found me. I had only lived in Thailand for six days when I met him. Was that random or fate? I had to wonder.

You sentimental fool, I told myself. He is just a boy. What makes you think he is ready for a long-term relationship? You are ready, but you are middle aged. What if it was just a fling, a way for him to have an exciting time with a foreigner for a few months while he was in Bangkok? You can’t expect a youngster like him to be stable, even in the unlikely case that he is interested in someone your age.

I called Chalerm every day on his mobile. But either it was turned off or nobody answered. After a week of this I thought I had to be tactical. As long as he saw I rang every day he could be confident I was waiting for him. Hard as it was to resist, it was better not to call. That would make him think.

After two weeks of not hearing from him I was beginning to think he would not be back. A friend urged me to seek other entertainment.

- You should go out and be decadent, said my friend. - Get some boy from Dj Station. Bonk him. Live a little!

- A boy off the street isn’t the same as Chalerm. I am still attuned to him. Besides, it would feel like cheating. Chalerm is too nice. I can’t cheat on him.

- Nice? He is putting you through hell for no reason.

- I know. But it would still hurt Chalerm terribly if I fooled around with someone else. I can’t do that to him.

- Sure you can.

- He is immature. He doesn’t see the consequences of what he is doing. I have to be the responsible adult even if he doesn’t deserve it.

- How long will you sit in your monastery and wait for him?

- I guess I have to give up after a while. If I haven’t heard from him in three weeks I will consider myself a free man.

One should think that Chalerm had overheard this conversation. After two weeks and six days of silence he rang my doorbell. He said nothing but walked sternly past me. He went to the bedroom and collected his things. Then he walked out, still without a word, and slammed the door behind him.

If that’s how he wants it, I thought and locked the door in a loud way and put the chain on. I made sure Chalerm could hear it from the corridor.

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How I met my boyfriend 23

I cut my visit to Anyburi short and drove back to Bangkok. I wondered what I had done wrong. Was my relationship with Chalerm over? What had changed? What had become of the happy Thai boy I had fallen for? 

In Bangkok I gave the Honda back to Avis, still unscratched. Now I really deserved that t-shirt.  

I called my friends to seek their advice.  

First I spoke to Mr. Canada, who had recently moved to Thailand to teach English. Mr. Canada recommended I should use discipline similar to what he applied to keep order in the classroom.

- If Chalerm misbehaves, give him a warning. If he doesn’t improve, give him time out. If the problem persists, reduce his allowance.

- He doesn’t get any allowance. I give the money to the grandmother.

- Maybe you should look for a new boyfriend. There are better deals out there than this.

- I don’t know. I am too fond of him.

- That’s no good if he treats you like this.

- You are right. Anyway, how is it going with your soi 4 waiter?

- He is nice. But I have a feeling he is not sincere.

- Why?

- I discovered he has wife and children.  

I could count on Farang D to have opinions about most things, including my love life.

- Be careful what you wish for, said Farang D. - You wanted a young Thai boyfriend? Now you have one. He is just 18. He is bound to be childish and immature. Golf is 26 and yesterday at Cafe di Roma he gave me the silent treatment. It was like having dinner with a block of ice. After four years I still can’t feel secure in this relationship.

- I am sorry to hear that.

- His brother Ball is 28. He is having this pathetic affair with a Dutch sex tourist. The Dutchman is screwing every moneyboy in Bangkok. Last week Ball was crying outside the Dutch embassy because they had turned down his visa application. I wanted to slap him. Ball is a doctor. He makes decisions about life and death every day in the hospital. But take off his white coat and he behaves like a lovesick kid.

- This doesn’t sound promising.

- It isn’t. But maybe Chalerm will grow up one day.

- That can take a while.

- Until then you must expect him to be moody and make the best out of the situation. If you think he is worth it. 

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How I met my boyfriend 22

Chalerm’s grandmother was in the house, sitting on the floor watching television. I had not met the grandmother before. Like her husband she had few teeth but she was stronger and more fit than he was. She had an air of authority. She was the head of the clan. The grandmother had a nine-year-old girl she looked after. This was one of Samart’s cousins who stayed with her grandparents while the parents were away working.

A new hotel had opened in Anyburi and we no longer needed to stay in the bordello with the karaoke ladies.

It was Saturday evening and the main road in Anyburi had youths racing motorbikes, they lay flat over their bikes and shouted to each other. Pick-up trucks with drunk drivers were also out. The once-a-week night market was on in a field and traffic was busy. I was glad I could park the rental car still in one piece. I should be awarded a t-shirt reading “I survived driving in Thailand”.

I had noticed in the car that Chalerm was in a bad mood. I didn’t know why. Maybe he was tired of waiting for me and had made plans that had to be cancelled when I was late.

- I want go market, said Chalerm.

- You can go. I am tired and would like to rest, I said.

- Is far, said Chalerm.

- OK, I will give you money to get a tuk-tuk, I said.

- You take me, said Chalerm.

- I would rather not… I began, but Chalerm turned up the sound of the television and put his fingers in his ears.

- I am too tired and I don’t want to drive now with those drunken people out on the road, I said. It is dark now and dangerous. And this is my first day driving in Thailand.

But Chalerm didn’t hear. He got up and slammed the door as he left.

How touchy he is today, I thought. If I had known it was this important I could have driven him. But he didn’t give me the chance to change my mind. Still, the market was just a 15-minute walking distance away, maybe less. Anyburi wasn’t that big. This is a power struggle, I thought. He wants to boss me around.

I slept for a couple of hours and Chalerm had not returned when I woke. I went to the 7-Eleven, which was near the night market, but didn’t see Chalerm. Again it seemed like many of the people who were out were drunk. I didn’t know Saturday night in the countryside was this lively.

At the 7-Eleven a group of street kids were loitering outside. One of them was a teenage boy. I must have looked at him a millisecond more than I should because he followed me into the shop. He had partly unbuttoned his dirty shirt to show some skin and smiled at me. The 7-Eleven had been crowded when I arrived but suddenly there were just the street kid and I. I could tell why - he stank. The poor kid was a BO disaster and (I am not making this up) he had his own personal fly, which swarmed around him. When the boy left the shop the fly left with him.

I gave the kids 10 baht each. They grinned knowingly and seemed to hope I would take them behind the bushes for a quickie. Begging, stealing and selling themselves. That’s how street kids survive.

Chalerm was still not back at the hotel. I called his mobile but the phone was turned off. I knew he wanted me to worry but I could not help it. My mind kept producing gloomy theories about where he was and what had happened to him.

I called him several times during the night but could not get through. But at 6am he knocked on the door. I was annoyed and toyed with the idea of not letting him in and instead hand him his bag through the door. I wanted to show him that two could play this game. But I was too softhearted. He came to bed without a word and fell asleep.

At 10am he woke and wanted to go to the village. I needed more sleep. Again Chalerm got angry and again he left while slamming the door. I regretted I had not put my foot down earlier.

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How I met my boyfriend 21

I gave Chalerm a mobile phone. My farang friends joked that I had already reached the famous mobile phone stage with a Thai boy. Now we were getting serious! Chalerm had not asked for a phone, and tried to pretend he didn’t want it. I bought it for my own sake, since waiting for him to call from the pay phone in the village shop was frustrating.

I booked a rental car at Avis. I wanted to visit Chalerm again in the village and now I knew I needed my own transport if I wanted to get around. I had dreaded driving in Thailand. For a start they drove on the other side of the road. All my reflexes had to be reprogrammed. Traffic was chaotic and the rules, if they had any, were ignored.

I had tried to talk friends into giving me driving-in-Thailand lessons but nobody did. I wanted the freedom of driving my own car and the only way was to get on the road and hope for the best.

The Avis office was on Wireless road near the British embassy. I had studied the map. To avoid getting lost in Bangkok I would to go back Wireless and up Rama 4 to the entrance to the elevated pay road. Then I would stick to the pay road past the airport and to Rangsit. From Rangsit it was easy to follow the signs for Saraburi.

I must have been visibly nervous as the staff at Avis were suspicious and repeatedly asked me where I was going and what I was planning to do. Maybe they thought I wanted to steal their car and sell it in Cambodia.

They gave me a Honda Civic and the station manager followed me out to show me the car. He politely disagreed when I told him I was going back to Rama 4. That, he said, was against one-way traffic. So much for my don’t-get-lost plan.

All I could do now was to stick to the car in front of me while trying not to knock over motorbikes, hit food charts or run over dogs. Where was this? Sukhumvit, Siam Square, Payayothin road… When I saw a sign for the highway I turned and paid to enter it. I was still lost, but at least I was lost on a higher level. I was relieved when I saw signs for the airport. This was the direction I needed to go.

Outside the city traffic was less dense but the speed increased and I had to watch for suicidal truck drivers. Trying to maintain a 3-second distance to the car in front of me only resulted in cars behind met thinking I was slow and overtaking me to fill the gap. In Thailand they have a half-second rule.

After Saraburi I left the main north-south route and could enjoy less traffic and a twistier road. I looked at the hills and diagnosed them as sediments. I was driving along an ancient lake or seabed. These beautiful hills must be full of fossils, I thought.

When I had been in Chalerm’s village I had been smart and taken a picture of the road sign with the village name written in Thai. I brought this picture to show the locals and ask directions. Except that it wasn’t the name of his village, it was a sign saying the distance to somewhere else. Confusion ensued. Chalerm was on the mobile phone and spoke to locals who pointed me in one direction (mainly random, I suspect). Others would look at the road sign picture and send me in another direction (also more or less random). I could not remember how to find Chalerm’s village and spent two hours driving around in the Anyburi area.

When I finally saw the yellow water tower it was getting dark but I found Chalerm waiting for me at the bus stop. He thought I was incredibly stupid to get lost like this and said so on the phone to his friends, calling me “farang kwai”. I didn’t like that.

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How I met my boyfriend 20

I wanted to take Chalerm on a trip in return for the tour he had given me of his province. When a long weekend came up we took the bus to Hua Hin.

I chose a hotel from the Lonely Planet book and chased away the overcharging songtaew driver who was following us in the hope of getting a commission for “delivering us”.

Hua Hin was quiet in the low season. We went to the beach and Chalerm walked around with my umbrella as protection for the sun, carefully stepping over horse droppings in the sand. I was worried we would get nasty looks from farang tourists but unlike in Bangkok they didn’t seem to notice us.

Chalerm said he had been in Hua Hin once before, with his enterprising father. He had been small then and his only memory was a visit to the hospital after he had stepped on a jellyfish.

Chalerm liked to tease me by hiding and not revealing himself when I came into a room. He remained quiet under a table or behind a curtain until I suddenly sensed I wasn’t alone. The more he spooked me the better. If he could make me make involuntary sounds of surprise it was best of all. Awww! I was lucky to have a strong heart.

He also liked to take showers with me. I always had to be persuaded.

- I am too shy for this.

- Farang not shy. Only Thai people shy.

- But you want cold water. I want hot.

- Never mind. You wash me.

I was then employed as his back scrubber.

Chalerm even wanted to join me in the bathroom when I was doing my private business. He knocked on the door and wanted to come in. But I never unlocked the door. Some things I prefer to do alone.

I became suspicious when Chalerm befriended a farang who stayed at the same hotel. Chalerm disappeared for a couple of hours without saying where he went. What was he up to? The farang was an English sextourist but to my relief he had a Thai bargirl in tow. Chalerm had met the bargirl first and she let him play with her Gameboy in their room. When the boy tried to go back to their room in the evening to play more games the bargirl refused to let him in. They were busy, she told him. Chalerm came back looking sad and disappointed. He was still just a kid.

Townspeople were celebrating a Buddhist festival. Chalerm took me to the temple with the sextourist and the bargirl. The boy had taken for granted that I was a Buddhist too and was surprised when I was ignorant about the festival. He gave me a small bouquet of flowers but he could not explain in English what I was supposed to do with it. I stood in a corner of the temple grounds looking out of place while Chalerm, the bargirl and the English bloke walked three rounds around the temple.

The boy wanted to buy presents he could give his grandparents. He had looked at flower pots but not bought them. The last evening he wanted me to go back and buy them. He is getting bossy, I thought. Go here and go there and do this and do that. But when I asked why he could not go himself he pointed to his feet. The plastic sandals had worn into the skin between his toes and he bled. I went to the market for him.

We were in Hua Hin during warmest time of the year and in the afternoon we rested in the hotel room with the air condition on full power. We chatted and cuddled. After napping I wanted to ask him about something.

- Chalerm, do you love me?

- Why you ask?

- You never said if you do or not.

- I shy.

The boy hid his head under a pillow.

- L-O-V-E, he spelled. - You understand?

- Yes, I said. I understand.

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How I met my boyfriend 19

In the morning my new apartment became crowded. In addition to my boyfriend, myself and the four guests two maids came to clean up the mess, two so-called engineers from the building came to oversee the repairs, and three men came to replace the window.  

The building staff found the incident amusing. Fat ladyboy falling through window. Haha! Funny too much.  
I must be making a great first impression in this building, I thought as neighbours stopped to watch the repairmen struggle to carry the new window up the stairs. The manager, the reception lady and the security guard made me understand I was now a treasured source of entertainment.  
I paid out of my pocket and the men installed the new window. I didn’t even try to make ladyboy XL pay for the repair. It was an accident and being an idiot wasn’t a crime. Chalerm had whispered that I had to give him money so he could buy food for his friends. Ladyboy XL hardly had enough money for the bus home.  
In the evening the youths dressed up and applied makeup, getting ready to go out. I was alarmed to see Chalerm wearing a blouse and a cotton-stuffed bra. I had never seen Chalerm as a ladyboy before. I blamed the XL ladyboy for influencing him but I decided not to say anything while Chalerm’s friends were there.  
The friends had seen Sanam Lum Night Bazar advertised on television. The concerts and events there looked like fun. They set out to find it but came back disappointed two hours later, exhausted from walking up and down Silom and Rama 4 road. When they finally found the bazaar it was closed. Since they were not 20 yet they could not go to any of the other nightlife spots on Silom road. I felt sorry for them. They were country folks lost in the city.  
I saw the twin girls were using the telephone without asking my permission. Chalerm said they were calling home to tell their parents they were OK in Bangkok. They must be done by now, I thought, and unplugged the telephone.  
Saturday afternoon we went to Maboonkrong for shopping. The girls and the boys looked a lot but bought nothing. The XL ladyboy, who was wide but not tall, showed me platform shoes with glitter on that he would like to have. The twins were obsessed with some mini-skirts. I ignored this and all the other hints. 
When the group left for Anyburi I went to tidy up the room they had been in. I had prepared for them to sleep in the office and living room but the four guests preferred to sleep Thai style in a shared bed. I saw three towels were missing. I had bought ten of them at Macro, now there were only seven left. The towels were not in the laundry or anywhere else. Also missing were a new pair of scissors, still in the original case.  
Is this their gratitude, I thought, nicking things? Worse, my watch had been in the drawer under the computer and was never seen again. And when my phone bill came I saw they had plugged the phone back in and spent the night calling long distance while Chalerm and I were asleep.  
I knew who had done this. The twins had been nervous and edgy before they left. Now I knew why. Maybe they worried I would search their bags? I guess I should have.  
I was furious. From then on I only referred to them as the Thieving Twins. This hurt. It wasn’t as much the money as having my hospitality and trust betrayed.  
Chalerm became worried when I told him about the thefts. He searched the apartment hoping to find the missing items. He interviewed our maid, who was afraid we would accuse her of stealing. I knew it wasn’t her. Reluctantly Chalerm had to agree that this was fishy. The eventful weekend had come to the following:  
Three towels a 20 baht, 60 baht

One pair of scissors, 100 baht

Telephone abuse, 750 baht

One Casio watch, 3000 baht

One broken window, 4300 baht 
Total 8210 baht 

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How I met my boyfriend 18

When I turned to look one of the big floor-to-ceiling windows had been broken. It was obviously not safety glass as it was completely gone with only empty air left in the window frame. Ladyboy XL lay on his back among pieces of broken glass. His upper body was inside the living room while his feet were out on the balcony. In his fall he had pulled out the electric cord to the television.  
Chalerm laughed hysterically.  
The shy good girl was staring at the ladyboy as if in shock. The twins were staring at me with fearful faces, as if they expected me to go berserk and beat up everyone. Maybe that was what their father used to do when someone broke a window.  
The XL ladyboy lay still with his eyes closed. None of the Thais did anything.  
I tried to pull the ladyboy out of the broken glass but he was too heavy and there were many dangerous pieces of glass on the floor. I grabbed pillows from the sofa and put under him.  
The ladyboy opened his eyes partly.

- Get a water bottle, I told Chalerm. Make him drink.

In truth I didn’t know what to do but giving them water is always good, I thought.  
I removed the worst of the broken glass from around the ladyboy and placed more pillows around him so he would not cut himself if he moved. Chalerm force-fed him water.  
After ten minutes the ladyboy was slowly returning to his senses, enough to help when Chalerm and I pulled him back into the room using the pillows as a sleigh. The good girl came to wipe the ladyboy’s face and to pick small glass bits from his skin. He was bleeding from a cut on his arm and from smaller cuts in his face. None of the cuts were deep.  
The twins were still sitting there petrified as if they expected me to get a gun and shoot them all.

- Never mind, I said. It was just an accident.  
Just how dim is this ladyboy, I thought. Didn’t he see the large windows and the glass doors? Did he think it was open space from the living room to the balcony? Had he tried to walk right through it? 
Half an hour later the ladyboy was strong enough to get up from the floor. The girls took him to the guest bedroom and put him to bed. I told them to keep giving him water. I had Chalerm ask the XL one what had happened and translate back to me. In a bizarre way, the explanation made sense.  
I sat down to call my friend on the phone. I took the phone to the office room. The living room was too hot. With a window missing the air condition had become pointless.  
- One is a handful, two is trouble and five is inviting disaster, said Farang D.

- Bless your optimism.

- I expected something to happen but the speed surprised me, said Farang D.

- It took him ten minutes from arriving till he had wrecked the place, I said.

- No reason to complain. You were lucky.

- Lucky?

- If he had cut himself seriously you would have to pay his hospital bill too.

- Hell no. He could pay for it himself.

- They don’t have any money, do they?

- Come to think of it, no they don’t.

- So you were lucky.

- Whatever.

- Why did the ladyboy break the glass? He didn’t see it?

- According to himself he did see it. But he fainted.

- Fainted?

- Yes. Blacked out. Collapsed and fell.

- What made him faint?

- Probably his diet. Chalerm says the ladyboy had not been eating or drinking today.

- Not drinking anything? Very hot today.

- Exactly. He must have been dehydrated. It was a lucky guess when I had Chalerm give him water.

- And why did he do something as spectacularly foolish as not drinking any water all day in 35 Celsius?

- Nobody told them water isn’t fattening.

- Nobody told them about the dangers of dehydration either?

- Or they were not listening. The nice thing about a diet without eating or drinking is that after 24 hours you can step on the scale and you are two or three kilos lighter. In a tropical climate this works well.

- If you survive.

- The XL ladyboy can then start over-eating again since he has proved how easy it is to lose weight. Brilliant, isn’t it?

- Have to give them points for inventive thinking. 

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How I met my boyfriend 17

- Chalerm’s father is not a bad person, I told Farang D. He is irresponsible, selfish and happy-go-lucky but not evil.

- A typical Thai man, said Farang D. They live for the moment. They act like children. They make babies left and right and as long as the problems are out of sight they are out of mind.

- They spend their money on booze, whoring and gambling?

- That’s right. The mothers are left to raise the children as best as they can.

- He has children with three wives that I know of and the current stepmother is the sixth. Even by Thai standards isn’t this a lot?

- I would not say so. Some of my employees are in their 20ies and they are already starting their 2nd families. The driver has two minor wives already. 
I found an affordable apartment within walking distance of the gay zone on Silom road. It was a grand but faded place with three bedrooms and three bathrooms. 20 years ago it had been luxurious. The apartment was more than I needed but I liked the location.  
The boy had been eager for me to get an apartment. When he heard the news he promised to come and house warm the place with his friends from Anyburi. They had been asking when they could come to Bangkok and visit him.  
I received the keys on a Friday afternoon and a couple of hours later the reception called and said I had visitors. In the sofa downstairs my boyfriend sat with a pair of slutty-looking twins with push-up bras, a shy girl and a size XL ladyboy. Chalerm was wearing his orange short pants with yellow flowers on again. I could understand why the reception lady and the security guard gave the group curious looks.  
Chalerm was excited about the apartment and ran around to inspect every room. His school friends were shy in presence of me the farang and sat down reluctantly. I turned on the television to make them relax.  
- This is my room, said Chalerm when he came to the second largest bedroom.

- It is for guests, I said. And the smaller bedroom is the office but two of your friends can sleep there tonight.

- And this is the master bedroom, I said. You and I will stay here.  
I opened the door to the adjacent bathroom and Chalerm was duly impressed. He put his beauty bag on a shelf and sniffed the soap bar.  
I noticed the XL ladyboy was unsteady.

- What’s with him, I asked Chalerm.

- Him sick, said Chalerm.

- What is wrong?

- Him diet. Want be thin.  
The ladyboy was walking across the room in a wobbly way. The last I saw of him was that he was behind the television set, which I had put against the large windows and the slide doors of glass which separated the living room from the balcony.  
I didn’t see the accident but I heard it. A loud crashing sound of breaking glass, the twins screaming, and the television going quiet. 

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How I met my boyfriend 16

Chalerm called me in the evening and said he would go to his mother’s village the next morning. He had then arrived in a nearby town where he and the guide stayed overnight in a hotel.  
The next day I received a text message from him. I saved the message and it is still in my mobile phone. It reads: “Now I see my mother. I think come back today.” The message was sent 8.06am.  
His message made me worried. It was 8am and the visit to the mother was already over? This didn’t sound promising.  
I could not reach the phone Chalerm had sent the message from and didn’t hear from the boy until he came back in the afternoon, looking tired and pale.  
- Did you meet your mother, I asked.

- Yes.

- What did she say?

- She say “Why you look like girl?”

- She said that?

- Yes.

- Did you see your sister?

- See.

- How did you find them in the village?

- People introduce.  
Then he went to bed.  
Later the boy told me that his mother had a new family with a husband and several children - Chalerm’s half siblings. The mother had accepted the gift Chalerm brought. I don’t know what it was but the budget for the gift was 1500 baht. The mother had said Chalerm was born in December, not in May the year after. Chalerm was four months older than his papers said. Chalerm also told me that when his family belatedly had taken him to register the child with the authorities his aunt had pretended to be his mother.  
Chalerm didn’t say anything negative about this mother. But it was clear both from his face and from the short nature of the visit that the reunion had been a failure.  
Chalerm slept for a while and when I joined him in bed he woke and looked at me with distant and foggy eyes. He wanted to be embraced and fell asleep again in my arms. In his sleep he shook and had strange spasms, as if he had a continuous nightmare. He curled up in a foetus position while I held him and only in the early morning hours did his body relax. Then I could sleep too. 

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How I met my boyfriend 15

Chalerm told me about when he was born. At the time the family were poorer and they were landless farmers in the hills above the village where they lived now. This was before Thailand’s economic boom that gave the area electricity, factory jobs and roads. Since Chalerm was born the province had gone from ox charts to motorbikes. Back then they were 3rd world destitute. They lived in simple huts in the forest, tended cattle and grew what they could. There was no road and the walk to town took hours.  

Chalerm’s mother had enough of Chalerm’s father, who was out womanising and had not been home for six months. The father didn’t support the daughter he already had with Chalerm’s mother. She was two years old. Chalerm’s mother didn’t get along with her in-laws either.  

Chalerm’s mother gave birth in secrecy and alone. When she had recovered she put the newborn baby in a tree and left. She wanted to go home to her own village and could not carry two children through the forest. She never came back.  

When Chalerm’s grandmother found the baby it was dehydrated and weak. Ants were crawling over it and Chalerm showed me where on his belly the ants had penetrated his skin, making a wound.  

The grandparents doubted if the baby could live but gave it cow milk and cared for it. The baby survived but when the father came home he had no interest in the child. He sold it to his uncle, the grandfather’s brother, for 100 baht.  

But when the father left again to find work in the city the grandmother bought the baby back. Her husband wasn’t too pleased having another child to feed but accepted it. From then on the grandmother was Chalerm’s guardian.  

Chalerm told me this story in small bits and I was shaken when I had heard it. I told it to Farang D who was shaken by it too. Farang D then told Chalerm’s story to some of his friends and the news spread. There were three kinds of reactions.  

The first was: - A baby in a tree? Sure, and the buffalo died and the brother had a motorbike accident and granny needs an operation. It is just another soi 4 scam story! People who didn’t know Chalerm said this. They assumed it was a sob tale designed to get money from a gullible foreigner.  

The second reaction came from Farang D’s boyfriend Golf and his brother Ball, the doctor. These sheltered middle class Thai boys refused to believe any of it. In their version of Thailand mothers didn’t abandon their babies, fathers were responsible and there wasn’t any poverty. They were in denial about the realities among farmers and working-class people. A Thai family behaving like this simply wasn’t possible.  

The third reaction was from people who knew Chalerm. They knew he had integrity, that he wasn’t a barboy and that he came from a humble background. They believed him.  

- Chalerm doesn’t manipulate me for money, I said. He is honest. I don’t see any reason why he should make this up.

- The ants and the 100 baht sale are the most dubious details, said Farang D. But even if you subtract that the rest might be true.

- This is the truth as he has been told it by his grandmother. Maybe she exaggerated to make herself the hero. But if anyone has a spine in that family it is the grandmother. Not the useless men.

- Thai families are often like that. The women hold them afloat, said Farang D.

- I knew they used to be poorer and live in the hills, I said. Chalerm told me that earlier. If you leave a baby behind in a tropical forest, where are you going to put it? You can’t leave it on the ground or in a small open hut where animals can get to it. To hang it up in a tree is logical.

- Even in a tree ants are going to find it.

- The 100 baht sale could be realistic too. A symbolic sum to get rid of a motherless child.

- When he was born 100 baht was worth more, I said. Maybe a weeks salary.

- In any case it is a hair-rising story, said Farang D. I feel for the boy. But such things happen in the villages. This is not the Thailand of tourist brochures.  

Meanwhile Chalerm had gone to his mother’s province with his neighbour as guide. I was anxious to hear from him. 

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How I met my boyfriend 14

Chalerm had said the first day I met him that he had no mother. She had left when he was small and he didn’t remember her.  
But his father was still around. He had not contributed much to Chalerm’s upbringing. Chalerm was bitter because his father had neglected him. The boy was raised by his grandparents and the father would rarely visit him or help him. 

The father was a handsome and charming man and popular with the ladies. Chalerm knew of three women his father had children with and Chalerm could remember a series of stepmothers. The current stepmother was the sixth.  

In particular Chalerm had been sad when the father came to Anyburi but stayed with one of his wives and never visited his son or the grandparents. Chalerm only heard rumours of the father being in town. I thought this was heartbreaking. I could imagine Chalerm as a child sitting there outside the house, waiting for a father who never came.  

While he was with me in Bangkok Chalerm had a dream in which someone took him to meet his mother. Chalerm took the dream seriously and wanted to go and look for her and his only full blood sibling, a sister who was a couple of years older than him. The boy had never met the sister either.  

I was sceptical. I was afraid that whatever happened if he found her it would be a disappointment. My friends agreed. Mr. X had adopted a son from Father Brennan’s Orphanage in Pattaya. Years later Mr. X took the son back to the orphanage for a visit and the kid went crazy with fear and aggression as soon as they entered the building.  

Another friend of mine, Mr. Y., was adopted as a baby and had never tried to find his real parents.

- It is just a daydream, said Mr. Y. Reality is going to hurt him. If the mother gave him up and never visited him again there is a reason for it.  

I told Chalerm this. I could tell he had thought about this because he didn’t protest.

- Why have you not tried to find her before, I asked.

- I too young. And no have money.  

But now Chalerm had money - my money. We set up a budget for his plan. There was a woman in his village who had known the mother when she gave birth to Chalerm. This neighbour knew the place the mother was from, in another province. Chalerm would ask this woman to be his guide. He had to compensate her for taking time off work, as well as give her reasonable pay for her trouble. Then there were bus, hotel, food, transport to the mother’s village and a gift to his long lost parent.  

I wanted to go with the boy. This expedition sounded hazardous. What if the mother rejected him? What is she was a nasty person? I hoped for the best but my gut feeling was that this would not end well. I wanted to be with Chalerm in case there were any unpleasant events. I wanted to be near him and comfort him.  

- I go alone, said Chalerm.

- Better if I am with you.

- No. When mother see me is ok. If see farang also too much.  

I could not persuade Chalerm to let me come with him. And with his stepmother in mind I had to agree maybe it was best I stayed out of sight. 

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How I met my boyfriend 13

Chalerm left for Anyburi and we agreed to meet there the day before school started.  

I went with Chalerm to the market in Anyburi and paid for his new clothes. He had a woman embroider his name on the shirts. When he put his new uniform on he looked smart. I felt a fatherly satisfaction, almost as if he was my kid on his first day at school.  
We stayed at the same hotel as last time. Chalerm didn’t want me to be in town too long.  

- Tomorrow when will you go to school, I asked him.

- 8am.

- What will you do there?

- Pay school and register.

- I will go with you then.

- No need. You can go Bangkok.

- Why?

- Many people look farang.

- And talk about you?

- Yes.  

I saw his point and didn’t want to embarrass him by showing up in the schoolyard. I could imagine how kids and teachers would stare if a farang, probably for the first time ever, came to enrol a student.  

I wasn’t worried about the stepmother. She was in Bangkok. Chalerm was capable of handling the rest on his own. When we were on the trip he had impressed me with his organising talent. Many Thai youths his age were easily lost or would mess up. But Chalerm was a bright and independent boy.  

The next morning I gave him the money for books and school and kissed him goodbye. Then I took the bus back to Bangkok.  
I wondered how I could keep in touch with him. His grandparents didn’t have a telephone. When I had asked him he had said I would not see him for a year. He could not call me and would not have time to go to Bangkok to visit me. I dismissed this as Thai drama and a test to see how I reacted. He liked to play these little games, partly to tease me, partly to hide his own feelings and partly to make me confirm that I cared about him by saying - Ooooh no! Too long. Broken heart. 

I was tired of staying at the Malaysia Hotel. And this hotel wasn’t the best place for Chalerm. I began walking the sois around Silom road, looking for apartments for rent. 

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How I met my boyfriend 12

The boy was in school thanks only to his determination. He had no support from his family, who thought he should get a job instead. The only mildly supportive person was his grandmother, not so much for her belief in the value of education as for seeing how eagerly Chalerm wanted to continue in school with his friends.  
To pay for his school Chalerm had taken odd jobs. Work in the rice fields, the same as his grandmother did, was paid 100 baht a day. They got up at 5am and worked until sunset. One school holiday he had worked in a sweatshop. After two weeks of long hours he had made 1400 baht. But when neighbours, friends and relatives heard he had cash they all wanted it. To protect his school money Chalerm had to make himself unpopular by not sharing.  
This year Chalerm was supposed to pay for school with profits from the mat rental business. But his stepmother was in charge and not only was the money he had made in the park confiscated, so was the 2000 baht I had given him.  
The boy was crushed by what had happened and ill at ease about the unspoken request for more money.

- I am not angry with you, I said. But I am angry with your stepmother.

The boy didn’t say anything.

- But never mind. I will pay for your school. Now lets see what else you need.

Chalerm and I sat down on the bed. I got pen and paper.

- So school fee is 2000. How much for books?

- Maybe 1000 baht. Buy used. Is cheaper.

- How about school uniform?

- Have.

- Is it old? Do you need a new one?

- Is old. Five years.

The boy showed with his fingers on my shirt where his uniform was worn on the collar.

- A new uniform then.

Pants, two shirts, socks, shoes and a belt came to 1500 baht. Grand total was 4500 baht.  
After making our shopping list we went to bed. Chalerm had not expected an outcome like this and was both exhausted and relived. He held me tight through the night.  
The next morning Chalerm went back to the park to work and I called my usual advisor to tell him about the latest development. His boy Golf had returned since his last disappearance without any explanation or apology.  
- I told you the money would not last till school started, said Farang D.

- I consider it well spent.

- Why? Now you have to pay twice.

- It was cheap for finding out who I can trust or not.

- Are you sure it is true?

- It is like her. What a low trick. I swear I won’t give her another satang.

- How can you know she doesn’t take the money yet again?

- This time I am not giving it to the boy or the mother or anyone else. I am going to Anyburi with Chalerm to pay the school myself. 

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