Thai Girl (10 page)

Returning to Ao Sapporot, he then headed inland and walked up the dusty track towards the dry monsoon forest. Beyond the chalets were the huts of the workers, half hidden in the trees. He was surprised how ramshackle they were and was even more disgusted by the rubbish littered everywhere; polythene wrappers, broken furniture, scraps of timber and plastic, old shoes and tin cans. It looked as if nobody cared that the garbage generated by the tourists was left scattered to the four winds.

Nearing the workers' huts, he came across some Thai men squatting on the ground cooking something over a fire. They welcomed him with warm smiles as he approached. Out of curiosity he went closer but could hardly believe what he saw; they were roasting rats. Bamboo sticks had been pushed through the rats' bodies from nose to tail and the men were slowly charring them in the flames. He tried not to look appalled, though he could not help thinking of the feast he had eaten with the others the night before. One of the men saw him staring at their breakfast.

‘Eat mouse. You like?' he said with a broad smile.

‘No thanks, maybe next time,' said Ben, feeling he had been caught intruding.

When he got back to the beach, he passed by two European girls in brief bikinis who were having a massage under the trees with some old Thai women. They looked pale and exposed next to the dark-skinned masseuses who were covered up in trousers, long-sleeved shirts and wide-brimmed hats. Further on along the sand, rows of
farang
were lounging in deckchairs and reading novels, some of the girls lying topless under the pitiless heat of the sun.

Taking a deckchair from the stack against a tree, he rejoined the others who were sitting more sensibly in a shady place at the top of the beach.

‘Hey Emm, you're looking chilled out,' he said.

‘I'm hot, sweaty and bitten by ants, but yes, chilled out I suppose. Stupid expression.'

‘American lingo,' said Maca.

Chuck remained unprovoked and looked vacant. Having lit up that morning, he had already found the meaning of life.

‘So what did the Pommie explorer find on his travels?' asked Maca.

‘Lots,' said Ben. ‘Dunno how you can all just sit here.' He was determined to tell them what he had seen, even if nobody was in the least bit interested. ‘There were these men cooking rats and two gorgeous girls being massaged, and I saw more rubbish than in the whole of Bangkok.'

‘Eating rats! How disgusting,' said Emma. ‘Glad I didn't see them.'

‘Why not?' said Chuck. ‘Meat's from dead animals, not supermarkets.'

‘But I mean rat! Are they so poor they have to eat rat?'

‘Maybe rat's a delicacy,' said Maca. ‘Anyway, it's a bush rat not a sewer rat and country people here eat everything … frogs, snakes, lizards and rats from the paddy fields. The kids go out and collect'em. And there's crickets, termites and scorpions … and grubs that live in bamboo. You look for the boreholes in the bamboo, cut it with your parang and the inside's squirming with grubs. You saw them on the stalls outside Nana Plaza … the working girls from Isaan love'em.'

‘But I'd never eat stuff like that,' said Emma.

‘Why not?' Maca demanded. ‘You eat some shonky things out of the sea like oysters and prawns … just as disgusting. Course it's the aborigines that really know about bush tucker. Witchetty grubs are the best.'

‘Then I had a brilliant coconut from one of the fruit sellers,' persisted Ben. ‘So much milk and the meat's delicious.'

‘Better than buying drinks in cans, making more trash,' said Chuck. ‘Coconuts are local too.'

‘I can see why they like the plastic packaging though … it's so light. The woman must've been half dead carrying the coconuts.'

‘Yeah, and have you thought how far she's walked with all that weight?' said Maca. ‘They buy the fruit and stuff and put it in those wretched plastic trays, catch the first boat at dawn with two full baskets and walk the length of the island. It's one hell of a walk, three or four miles. Rocky headlands, roots to trip you up, steep climbs and bloody hot. Then they walk back again.'

‘But my coconut lady was all smiles,' said Ben. ‘They're tough, these people.'

‘It's the blind fruit seller blows my mind,' said Chuck. ‘I saw him carrying those baskets last time I was here … he has to walk very slowly, step at a time.'

‘Have to hand it to people like that,' said Maca, ‘not that he's got any choice.'

‘I was surprised to see masseurs on the beach though,' said Ben. ‘After Bangkok, I thought massage was part of the sex industry.'

‘Not always,' said Maca. ‘Prostitution's supposed to be illegal so massage is an obvious cover. But Thai massage is straight … Wat Po's the top training school.'

‘Yes, we were surprised to see massage in a temple,' said Ben.

‘The Thais take it very seriously … the masseurs over there'll be proud of their skills.'

‘Well, I won't be asking those old crones for any extras,' he said. ‘Wouldn't mind a bit of the Euro-tottie they're working on though.'

‘Go on then,' said Emma indignantly, glaring at him. ‘Try your luck if you dare.'

‘Spoiled for choice,' he said with a smirk. ‘Don't mind if I do!'

Emma frostily changed the subject.

‘You know, it's odd,' she said, ‘the foreigners wearing so little compared to the Thais. Even the older tourists are in thongs and go topless with their tits bobbing about, but the masseurs on the beach are all covered up. Same as those Thai kids over there.'

They all turned to look. A group of young Thais were fooling around in the waves, the males in swimming shorts, the girls in shorts and tee-shirts.

‘Thai girls are so modest they swim in their clothes,' said Maca. ‘If you see one here in a brief bikini, she's probably a hooker hired by the day from Pattaya.'

‘Pattaya? That's the big sex resort, isn't it,' said Ben.

‘Sodom-on-Sea,' said Maca. ‘Just your place, eh Ben?' Ben grinned. ‘And Thai women cover up because they don't want to go black,' Maca went on. ‘Beauty means white skin. Dark means peasant working in the fields, Isaan farmers,
baan nawk,
the back of beyond. Pale's the colour of urban lifestyle, Chinese money. That's why they're so keen to keep out of the sun.'

‘Who's stupid then, the Thais or the
farang
roasting on the beach? We all complain about the heat but then lie in the sun and risk skin cancer,' said Emma.

‘But Emma, it's cool getting a tan,' said Chuck.

‘Is it? In the pharmacy in Bangkok next to the tanning lotions, I saw rows of skin whitening creams for the Thais. Guess people want whatever they haven't got.'

‘Yeah, the Thais think we're mad wanting to sunbathe,' said Maca. ‘And Thai men seeing foreign chicks half-dressed like bar girls think that means they're available. Surprises me our women don't get molested more often.'

‘In another culture, you mustn't give the wrong signals,' said Emma.

‘Good on yuh, Emm. It's plain offensive going topless and wearing skimpy clothes in town. Don't know why
farang
women are so insensitive.'

‘Maybe because the Thais are too tolerant,' said Chuck. ‘They just smile and take us as we come.'

There was a pause as they watched the Thais noisily playing in the sea.

‘Well, folks, it's time for a plate of cowpat moo. Anyone peckish?' asked Maca.

As they wandered off to eat, they passed the masseuses who were now sitting waiting for customers. ‘Massage, massage,' they called out, smiling broadly.

‘Don't fancy being mauled by those old biddies,' said Ben.

‘Prefer a topless chick in cargo pants, I suppose,' hissed Emma under her breath.

‘Say na'more!' said Ben, unabashed.

Maca heard the exchange.

‘Once a bloke, always a bloke,' he guffawed. ‘Sorry Emma, it's true … though I'm a feminist kinda guy myself, honest!' There were loud hoots from Chuck.

Lunchtime was clouded by the obvious tensions between Ben and Emma, by lack of sleep and by the increasing heat. Eating only made them all hotter and more uncomfortable. Emma was the first to say she was going back to the hut to crash out for a bit.

‘I'll be with you in a moment, Emm,' said Ben.

‘Don't rush,' she replied icily.

He followed her a few minutes later and found her lying on the bed facing the wall, a sarong knotted round her waist. She ignored him and said nothing as he sat down beside her. Looking down at the curve of her back and the scarp of her hips and thighs, he ran the tips of his fingers slowly up her spine and into her hair. To his alarm, she turned on him angrily.

‘How dare you do that after all the foul things you keep saying in front of me. Don't you dare touch me!'

‘Emm, it's a siesta. You know what siestas are for,' he said resentfully.

Abruptly Emma sat up and faced him, cradling her bare breasts protectively in her folded arms. Briefly distracted by the pink line along her bikini top where she had caught the sun, Ben was totally unprepared for the outburst that followed.

‘I don't care what you think siestas are for. Why don't you push off and find someone else to fuck.'

He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

‘Emm, it's you I want,' he protested, ‘but since we got to Thailand we haven't once …'

‘Haven't what?' she broke in, her eyes ablaze.

‘Yes okay, I know it's hot and you're tired, but come on Emm, not another headache.'

She rounded on him indignantly.

‘You just don't understand anything, do you … don't even begin to!' Ben looked shocked and began to sweat.

‘Don't understand what?' he said weakly.

‘See! If you understood, you wouldn't have to ask.'

‘I only want to know what you're ranting on about.'

‘So I have to tell you then I suppose … that you don't understand my feelings … you don't know how to treat me properly and never have.'

‘But Emm, why all this shit? Why now?'

‘Why now? Because I should've had it out ages ago … or just split up. I've left it far too long and now it's too late.'

‘Left what too long?' said Ben, propping himself defensively against the door.

‘All the things I should've said to you before.'

‘Like …?'

‘Oh, what's the point!' she cut in sharply.

‘There's lots of point.'

‘Okay then, you've asked for it … I'll tell you like it is. Ben, you're just a little boy when it comes to serious relationships. You're so insensitive … you hurt me whenever you feel like it. And you don't know how to love me … because the only person you love's yourself.'

Ben looked stunned.

‘Come on Emm, what did I ever do to hurt you?'

Emma rolled her eyes in exasperation.

‘The big problem's your mother, treating you like the sun shines out of your arse. You don't know how to behave because mummy lets you get away with everything. Well, I'm not making the same mistake. I can't hack it any more.'

‘Come off it Emm, I do love you … you know that,' he said as gently as possible.

‘That's what you always say as if it answers everything. You just like playing the lover-boy, don't you.'

He cautiously moved towards the bed, his hand held out to her.

‘No really, I still think you're gorgeous. And Emm … did I ever tell you how stunning you look when you're cross?'

Gasping for breath, Emma paused in astonishment before slapping his hand away in fury.

‘Well, that just about beats it. Why the hell did I let you drag me here?' she shouted, almost beside herself. ‘I could like Thailand but not with you I can't.'

‘Sod it, Emm, it's you who's ruining things, you and your moods. We can sort it out if only you'd stop sulking. We always have before.'

‘No, we only ever shelve the problems. We never face up to them … maybe because we know we can't.'

Emma was now sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling naked and vulnerable. She untucked her sarong from her waist and tied the ends behind her neck to cover herself. The fan swished loudly above them as she gathered strength to close the confrontation.

‘Well, I'm not going to talk about it any more, not now. It's too bloody hot. So lie down and shut up, Ben … or just bugger off.'

Ben saw she was deadly serious and was not going to listen to him, so he decided it was best to bugger off. Feeling numb, he walked out into a world full of bright sunshine and palm trees and pulled the door closed behind him with a resounding crash.

9

Unceremoniously ejected from the hut, Ben now had to face the day alone. Maca and Chuck were having a siesta and Clarissa, Samantha and Nadia were nowhere to be seen. All he could do was to walk. From the rocks at the far end of the bay, he found the path over the headland and, with the shriek of the insects in his ears and the heat now almost unbearable, he followed it to a tiny beach of white sand on the other side.

Slipping off his sandals, he walked into the waves up to his knees. The water was refreshing and the sea breeze offered a little relief from the heat, but he suddenly felt overcome with tiredness. He lay down on the sand under the shade of the nearest tree, a bizarre species half growing over the rocks. It had smooth, green bark punctuated every few inches with spiky thorns, and though it was bare of leaves it was in full flower, a riot of outrageous red blossoms. Lying listening to the sea and studying the bare, angular branches above his head, he watched a tiny yellow bird with a long beak tapping nectar from the flowers.

After a time he sat up and looked at the view, a seascape of tiny islets lost in an infinity of blue, and high above him a sea eagle soaring and wheeling in the thermals. But the beach itself was not without blemishes. Caught in the crannies among the rocks was a tangle of bamboo poles with broken lines, the wreckage of floats that had marked fish traps in the shallow waters. The sea had brought in scraps of expanded polystyrene, a shoe, a disposable nappy. The island was near perfection, but it was, he thought, unnecessarily spoiled; just like his friendship with Emma.