Thai Girl (41 page)

Though in the end Ben did not bring himself to confide in any of his friends, he did somehow manage to survive the trauma of Fon's rejection. He read and swam and socialised much as usual, and he took a wheezy wooden boat for a day trip to Koh Wai and Koh Rang, two tiny islands with coral beaches just a few hours away. Sitting on the roof as the boat wallowed back through the swell with the mountains of Koh Chang sprawled across the ocean before him, he decided this must be one of the most beautiful places in the world and that he should not be too heartbroken for long.

Back at his hut, satisfied and sweaty from his day in the islands, he was about to shower when the surly receptionist appeared at the door.

‘You have phone … lady ask for Ben,' she said.

Ben's pulse raced wildly.

‘When?'

‘She call yesterday.'

Ben was outraged.

‘And it's taken you a whole day to tell me! Who was it?'

The girl's face darkened.

‘Not give her name,' she replied.

‘So what am I supposed to do then?'

‘She phone again twenty minutes ago … say she call in twenty minutes.'

‘But that's right now for God's sake!'

Ben shot out of the hut, the girl slowly following him down to the reception desk with a studied air of detachment. She looked away and said nothing as he paced around like a caged lion waiting for the call. Then the phone rang and it was Fon.

‘Hi, Fon, I can't believe it.'

‘Ben, I phone yesterday. Why you not call me?'

‘Because they didn't bloody tell me you'd phoned.'

The receptionist glowered at him.

‘Ben you angry me?' said Fon, sounding worried.

‘Course not! And I can hear you this time, the line's so good. Where are you?'

‘Ban Phe … phone box.'

‘What are you doing there?'

‘Go bank, send money Mama. Ben you okay?'

‘I am now. Fon, you nearly killed me.'

‘How I kill you?'

‘Telling me I couldn't come back like that.'

‘Nearly kill me too,' she said.

Ben's heart leaped with joy.

‘But Fon, you don't want to see me?'

‘Want very much … but cannot.' This was just amazing.

‘Why ever not?' he said.

‘You not understand? Not listen before?'

‘Tell me again then,' said Ben in suspense.

‘When we go beach together, a hundred eyes follow us … think I sell sex.'

‘God, it disgusts me … why can't they just leave us alone?' he complained indignantly.

‘Ben, I boring … want go holiday,' said Fon, laughing down the phone.

‘Oh, Fon, I wish. And I wish you really loved me.'

‘Ben I do! Love you thirty percent already!' she said to more laughter.

‘Can't you make it forty percent?' Ben was thinking hard. ‘Suppose I come to Koh Samet and nobody knows I'm there?' he said.

‘Then no problem.'

‘If I get a ferry to one of the other beaches and get a hut …?'

‘Then I come see you.'

‘Possible?'

‘Yes, possible. But how I find you there?'

‘When I've checked in, I'll send a message somehow.'

‘So Ben, when you come?' asked Fon.

‘Tomorrow … why not!'

‘Tomorrow, okay, okay. Sorry Ben … money finish.'

Ben tried to say something more, but it was too late and the phone went dead.

It had all been so quick, a breathtaking turnaround, with Fon's voice clear and strong, so different to the tragic tone of the earlier call to Gaeo's mobile. But yes, she had said he could come back to Koh Samet, which now meant packing up and leaving early the next morning. Walking back to his hut, it struck him that a day is a long time in a Thai love affair.

Now he would have to face what travellers never get used to doing, severing the intense friendships he had so relied upon in the past few weeks. He felt he had known Maca and Chuck for ages, Stewart was the salt of the earth, Dutch a decent and impressive guy and everyone had a soft spot for Darren. In their place he would be left with a short list of email addresses.

Eating at Odin's that night was the same as usual but with a sense of nostalgia, coupled with the excitement of moving on. As always nothing at Odin's was ordinary. The food was a triumph, the atmosphere electric and the men's lavatory a monument of bad taste. Filled with pot plants, it was a shrine to the male form, the walls liberally plastered with pictures of multinational beefcake torn from magazines.

The evening was finally rounded off with a moment of farce when a fisherman came up the beach with a massive fish for the restaurant.

‘What a size!' said Stewart. ‘How the hell do you land and kill a thing like that?'

‘Have gun … shoot'em in the head,' said the fisherman.

After they had all eaten, there was now one last favour Ben wanted from Odin. As he paid the bill, he asked him if he could write a brief note in Thai to Fon.

‘Last time you make her angry,' whined Odin. ‘Say all the wrong things.'

‘You mean all the things you said!' grumbled Ben. ‘No, this time it's very simple. I just want you to tell her to meet me tomorrow night by the jetty on Ao Hin Kong as soon as it gets dark.'

‘Ooh, Ben, you so romantic. Can I put in some extra bits?'

Leaving Odin's for the last time, Ben and his mates walked slowly along the beach back to the huts where they settled down around a circle of candles on Chuck's veranda for a few bottles and the ritual of a final smoke. For some reason the mood was a little sombre, perhaps a sense that the party was almost over and that the group was about to break up.

Ben had been wondering what life must be like for the Thais living in the islands and wanted to know what Dutch and Maca thought.

‘You know, I find it hard to believe Koh Chang's not just some Shangri-La adrift in the ocean,' he said. ‘It's another world.'

‘Nothing could be further from the truth,' said Maca. ‘Thailand's linked into the world economy and feels every hiccup … even places like this get hit by a downturn.'

‘Yes, globalisation's a big thing at the moment,' said Dutch. ‘They went for an export-led economy which was a gamble, and they've still not recovered from the 1997 collapse … bad debts and unfinished buildings everywhere.'

‘So what now for Thailand?' asked Ben.

‘Unpredictable … people are questioning the basic assumptions. They want the modern lifestyle but there's always a price to be paid,' said Dutch.

‘Seems they want it all and they want it now,' replied Ben gloomily.

‘And they're dumping their culture in the process,' added Maca.

‘Maybe that's what urbanisation's all about,' said Dutch. ‘Bangkok's a bit like Europe in the industrial revolution … about eight million people, many of them from upcountry, and they all want the best the city can offer … housing, medicine, education and so on.'

‘But don't the rural migrants just lose their old way of life and become the new urban poor,' suggested Ben, pouring another tot of Sang Som.

‘'Fraid so,' said Dutch. ‘That's what gets me. In the nineteenth century Thailand avoided being colonised. King Mongkut was forced to cede Lao and part of Cambodia to the French but he played them off against the British and stayed independent while everywhere else was overrun.'

‘Yes, and look at the bloody mess the French made of Indo-China,' interjected Maca.

‘King Mongkut and King Chulalongkorn took the best systems and technology from the West, but continued to value their own traditions,' Dutch went on. ‘There was no internet then, so it was easier … but now it seems the Thais are desperate to be colonised economically and culturally. So everything's in the melting pot.'

There was a pause as they all tried to absorb the enormity of what Dutch had just said.

‘Wasn't the Vietnam war a big turning point?' said Stewart.' Thailand was the threatened domino and was flooded with aid from the West.'

‘Dead right,' said Dutch. ‘American influence was immense … they even had the use of military bases here. And the GIs were randy so the Thais sold them their women, maybe the soul of the Thai people too … the nicest people money can buy.'

‘Sold for a serving of KFC,' said Stewart, staring into the candles.

‘So if they're dumping their culture, what is it exactly?' asked Ben.

‘There's many influences,' said Dutch, ‘mainly central and northern Thai, with Lao and Khmer rural tradition in the North East and Islam in the south,

plus the commercial dynamic of the immigrant Chinese … not to mention India and Buddhism. Maybe that's why it's so full of contradictions… like with the sex trade. Buddhism condemns sexual misconduct and Thai women are modest and shy, but commercial sex is still rampant … perhaps because they're so tolerant and non-judgmental.'

‘Amazing thing I saw in the Bangkok Post,' said Maca. ‘A middle-aged senator was accused of paying for sex with under-aged girls … but a Health Ministry spokeswomen said it wouldn't be fair to hold him solely responsible.'

‘Why ever not?' said Chuck. ‘That goes beyond tolerance.'

‘She said society should understand him … men used to take minor wives and concubines, but now they go to prostitutes instead.'

‘That can't be the official line!'

‘No, I'm sure it isn't, but it's still weird saying something like that, specially a woman,' said Maca, shaking his head.

‘Another thing,' Dutch went on, ‘Thai kick boxing seems so at odds with their gentleness. And they've let their crafts and architecture be overwhelmed by the plastic, concrete and vulgar. Like traditional dress … the sarong's so attractive, but they all want to look flash in jeans which are hot and uncomfortable.'

‘Listen to this old guy,' mocked Darren.

‘I agree with Dutch,' said Ben. ‘Thai girls look great in a sarong.'

‘In Bali,' said Maca, ‘they make brilliant use of traditional building materials but here it's all ugly concrete boxes.' He leaned back against the wall of his bamboo hut.

‘I don't want to sound an old fart,' said Dutch, ‘but the Thais have sold themselves for an inferior popular culture and tacky bad taste. Take the nightclubs. They're black holes with bad music which is unbelievably loud. The kids stand around trying to look cool, and the live acts on the stage are awful … some guy who looks like a fifties teddy boy, wearing dark glasses so he can't see. And a skinny girl in a backless bikini made of pink feathers … probably can't sing either.'

‘Take it easy, granddad!' jeered Darren, flexing his biceps.

‘And there's a great musical tradition in the North East,' Dutch continued, ignoring him, ‘political songs that really say something, but western music's more fashionable so that's it … no contest.'

‘In Bangkok I went to this place called RCA, Royal City Avenue. It's a street with nightclubs,' said Maca. ‘When you go down there you're nearly blown away by the noise even when you're outside. I'm no granddad but I think it's gross … a load of kids posturing and trying to be funky. Don't get me wrong, there's a great world culture of music and dance but they've got to pick the best and value their own.'

Everyone agreed it was time to open another bottle and, with discussion of Thai culture exhausted, Ben now had the chance to change the subject.

‘For me,' he said, ‘the worst thing's the way Thai women are up for sale. Sex tourism stinks. What's the world's perception of the Thai girl now? Elegant in a sarong or legs apart stuffing things up herself in a go-go bar?'

‘Trouble is,' said Dutch, ‘how do you stop it? Money from commercial sex flows back to the rural areas and there's so many vested interests, including the police who take their cut. The government cracks down on the girlie bars from time to time on grounds of social order, but it's difficult to dismantle so big an industry, even if they have the will to do it. But yes, prostitution corrupts society, just like gambling, guns and drugs.'

‘It's not just for tourists though,' added Ben. ‘Sex is for sale everywhere in Thailand. I don't understand why it's such a big thing.'

‘There's enough for fifty PhDs on that one,' said Dutch. ‘But like it said in the Bangkok Post, Thailand has a tradition of men taking concubines … of sex being an economic relationship. Today, with so many migrant workers, contraception allowing casual contact and poor women needing a fast buck, hey presto, you've got prostitution.'

‘Yeah, if nice girls are virgins and men are promiscuous, there'll be women who'll sell their ass,' agreed Maca.

‘What amazes me though is how past governments seem to have connived at international sex tourism. It brings in the money but look what it does for Thailand's reputation,' said Ben. ‘It's Thailand's shame.'