“How I Met My Boyfriend” - a mini-novel
By Silom Farang
1
As the airplane flew low over northern Bangkok approaching the airport I looked down on the roads and houses with a new sense of purpose. I had seen the landscape many times before, but then I had arrived here for a holiday. Now I was moving to Thailand to live there.
The last couple of weeks in Farangland had been tiring. I had sold my home, car, furniture and computer equipment, given away my clothes and books and put the rest of my belongings in a large suitcase. I was relieved about arriving in Thailand but apprehensive also. Coming here for a vacation was one thing, how would it be to live here year-round? I felt the gravity of my decision. I had no family and few long-time friends in Thailand and the country had no welfare state that could pick me up me if I was in trouble. I was on my own. Completely free, but alone.
Even the Malaysia Hotel didn’t feel as comforting as before as it was the low season and none of my usual friends were there. But I got a room and then I did the standard round of soi 4 and DJ Station, but without any sense of urgency. I was a Bangkok resident now. The bars would always be there. No longer did I feel the need to make the most of every night out on the town.
After the first day the jetlag and the tiredness overcame me and I slept and rested for several days, only going down to the restaurant to eat. The time before the trip had been stressful and I had been under time pressure, the new owner of my home would inspect the place and receive the keys just as I was getting ready for the flight to Thailand. I made it but I was exhausted. I felt like no amount of sleep and rest would be enough. And at night I would dream of the mountains and the blue skies back home.
But at the end of the week my energy returned and I felt like going out and explore the city. One of my hobbies was photography. I thought I could bring my camera and go to some public area and take pictures. This could be fun and relaxing, a way to forget this feeling of having only deep water under me.
I took the Skytrain to the end station at Mor Chit. Next to the station was a park and I walked in. It was lively there with children and families, food sellers and young couples sitting under the trees. I took my time, walking slowly, smiling and waving back to those who greeted this tourist-looking farang with sunglasses and a camera.
Near the middle of the park my future father-in-law approached me. He was a handsome and smiling man. With a gesture he offered me a plastic mat to sit on. I shook my head and used one of the few Thai phrases I knew, “no thank you”. I walked on and fifty meters further up the path a boy came walking across the grass towards me. The boy was cute and young but of undeterminable age. He too had multicoloured plastic mats for hire, the sort people would use to sit on the grass, picnick style. The boy smiled even broader and when he saw my interest he did a coy little body movement, looking back at me over his shoulder. He was flirting.
- Hello, said the boy. He used the same gesture as his father, offering me the plastic mat.
- Swaddee krap, I replied and waved my hand lightly to indicate I wasn’t a customer.
- You speak Thai? asked the boy.
- Nit noi, I replied.
By now we were standing next to each other, both smiling, grinning in a silly way perhaps. The boy was dressed in a blue t-shirt with Japanese letters on the front and a pair of new blue jeans that were a number too large for him.
I pointed my camera at him.
- No no, said the boy.
Well, I thought, whatever he is doing here he doesn’t try too hard to please.
We agreed to sit down on some cone-formed sculptures nearby with the excuse that I could teach him English and he could teach me Thai. So there we were, under the big tree in the late afternoon sun. We struggled to communicate, his English only a little better than my poor Thai. He had a small and well-worn Thai-English dictionary he used to look up words. As we sat there talking he kept touching my knee with his. It was a light, almost unnoticeable touch.
He was good looking in a soft and feminine way. If it was a he. I got confused. Did I hear him say khaa, the female marker in Thai? No, it was a boy.
I asked him if he wanted to come with me to my hotel. Again the answer was no.
He had a mobile phone hanging around his neck. That made me wonder. He didn’t look like he could afford it. But at the end of our little Thai-English class he gave me the number and I promised to call. Then we said goodbye and I left.
Meeting him had lifted my spirit. That boy was something, I thought. He was so fresh and natural. I liked his personality. But what did he want? I could not take his picture and he refused to come to the hotel with me. Strange.
That evening, back in my room at the Malaysia Hotel, I called his number. A woman answered. I asked for the boy by name. I could hear there were many people in the room and the boy came on the line. In a carefully rehearsed line he said “Today I am happy. Because you call to me”. He sounded like he meant it.
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