A Farang Strikes Back

by Louis Anschel

  * * *

  I called Som on a regular basis. About once per month. I called her in February, in March and in the following months. The telephone calls often didn’t take very long. I called and said my name. But it didn’t mean anything to her. She recognized my voice. When I said something she said, “Khun!” You! She was astonished, surprised and she was very happy. I always had the feeling she didn’t expect my call. We often did some small talk. But she always said how much she missed me and how happy she has been with me.

  Once I didn’t call for a longer time, for about six weeks. I postponed the call. I told myself to call now! But, I didn’t. What should we talk about? Did she remember me? Som would say something I didn’t understand. It would be like that and vice versa. Weren’t these calls completely senseless? However, I finally dialled her number. An announcement in Thai and English was the answer, “The number is not available at this time.” I felt panic. Did I wait too long? What should I do if her friend had a new phone number and the old one didn’t exist anymore? I would have to go to Pattaya and try to find Som. I was angry with myself because I paused between two calls for far too long. Now, I knew how much Som meant to me.

  Days later, I listened to the dial tone. I took a deep breath and was relieved. Her friend answered the phone and gave it to Som. “Khun!” You! Her friend went to see her family and had switched off the phone during this time, Som explained to me during the call.

  As the months passed by, I was still unhappy with my situation. This drew on my resources. The only happiness was looking forward to the next vacation. I could persuade my wife to go to Thailand again. This time she wanted to make a sightseeing tour but didn’t complain when I suggested spending some time in Pattaya again. We went in December–exactly one year after our last vacation.

  * * *

  The flight wasn’t really comfortable—emotionally, because I was very nervous. Besides, my wife and I booked only the flight this time and I didn’t know when I could meet Som again. First we wanted to stay in Bangkok quite a while because we wanted to do sightseeing tours to Nakhon Pathom, Lopburi, Kanchanaburi and Ayutthaya.

  We arrived in Bangkok at noon and it took until nine o’clock in the evening before I could steel away and call Som. I told her I was in Bangkok now. She was delighted and wanted to know if I was coming to see her in Pattaya the next day? I had to tell her it would take a while, but promised to call again.

  After an apparently endless week, we indeed went to Pattaya. We stayed in the same hotel as the year before. And, just as before, my wife went to bed early, leaving me time for myself. My wife already became accustomed to the new time zone so she didn’t stay awake too long in the evenings. These were my only thoughts when we took a look at the appealing swimming pool of our hotel at the day of our arrival in Pattaya. After our excursions in the adjacent tourist areas of Bangkok, my wife wanted to relax at the pool side. I pretended to have to buy bathing trunks and slipped away. It was so easy to find a pretence if I wanted to do something she shouldn’t know about. I went to a store near the beach front and bought my alibi bathing trunks. Afterwards I called Som. She had already told me that she was working in a different massage parlour, not far away from Soi Honey Inn.

  I asked if we could see each other in the evening, to which she agreed. I had to wait until my wife had gone to sleep, so I suggested our meeting at eight or nine o’clock. Som had difficulties describing exactly where the new massage parlour was located. We wanted to meet in the evening on the corner of Second Road and Soi Honey Inn. There was a 7-Eleven store there–a landmark you couldn’t miss.

  Shortly before I arrived at the store, I called her again or rather I called her friend and she gave the mobile phone to Som.

  “I in shop. We can see,” she said.

  “And where is it? I am almost at the corner Soi Honey Inn.”

  Som told me to wait right in front of 7-Eleven. Everything she said then was swallowed by traffic noise, she couldn’t say it in English or my Thai was too limited to understand her. She told me something about a pink T-shirt and Ying & Yang. I thought in despair if there was a shop in Second Road at the corner of Soi Honey Inn which sold clothes. I couldn’t remember but if Som said so it should be that way. I figured the massage parlour was next to this shop.

  “What you wear?” she asked.

  The question hit me like a blow with the fist.

  “You wear T-Shirt? What colour?”

  Som couldn’t remember how I looked like. That’s why I had to describe my clothes so she could recognize me. I couldn’t believe it. A little bit down I said, “Red T-Shirt.” I was so nervous that I forgot the Thai word for “trousers”. She didn’t understand the English word so I left it with this imprecise description.

  I went to an ATM and withdrew some money. Five minutes later I reached Soi Honey Inn. I couldn’t spot a Ying & Yang clothing store nearby. Maybe I misunderstood her completely, but I was sure I had to wait in front of the 7-Eleven. Suddenly a red motorcycle stopped in front of me with a young girl sitting on the bike. She looked at me, and I looked at her. She wore a pink T-shirt with a Ying & Yang logo. I slapped my forehead with my hand. Of course! Som sent somebody to pick me up, and because I had to be recognized she needed my description. And to tell me who would pick me up, she told me about Ying & Yang. Like in “Alice in Wonderland”: Follow the white rabbit!

  I looked at the girl and could only say, “Khun mai bpen Som.” You are not Som.

  No, of course not. Som would wait for me. I sat on the bike behind her and my chauffeuse and I rode away. While entering Soi Honey Inn, she turned her head to the side and shouted, “I am Dao.”

  Dao had unusually short hair. Her blazing beautiful eyes fascinated me.

  The drive didn’t take very long. She turned onto Soi Buakhao, then turned onto another soi and stopped in front of a massage parlour on Third Road. Ying & Yang Massage, where I got off the bike. Two benches at a right angle to each other sat on the left side of the room in front of the windows. Masseuses sat on these benches, most of them very young, in their twenties. You could enter the parlour through a glass sliding door.

  Behind the door stood Som. She spotted me, opened the door and went outside. She beamed. We went into the parlour, Som closed the door. An air conditioner kept the room very comfortable–a wonderful change from the temperature and humidity outside. On the left was an armchair where customers could settle for a simple foot massage while on the right there were five or six mattresses. These were surrounded with detachable curtains–all in dark green. I saw two curtains closed.

  Som and I hugged. We went into our “cabin”, she closed the curtain and asked me to lie down. Som fixed the curtain with clothes pins and lay down beside me. We kissed, cuddled and snuggled and stroked each other. All the yearning came to light.

  “Nueng bpi!” One year! We repeated these words again and again.

  Finally she said, “Jan rak khun” I love you, tirak, I love you too much.” Tirak. Darling.

  On the next afternoon I slipped away again. I pretended to go for a walk along the beach although it was much too hot for such an undertaking and went to the parlour. Som’s colleagues told me she was out for a meal. I sat on one of the benches and waited. Finally she arrived on a red motorcycle. It was the same one with which Dao had picked me up. Later I learned that it belonged to the boss, who had placed it at the disposal of her staff. Som wore sunglasses and looked good. We went in the parlour and I made myself comfortable on one of the mattresses while Som closed the curtain.

  It was difficult to communicate but we didn’t give up. If the one of us didn’t understand, we tried it again and again until we made ourselves clear.

  First, I asked about Som’s family because I didn’t know anything about them. Som told me she had a six year old daughter who lived with her mother in Chaiyaphum. Som’s ex-husband broke up with her and she went back to live with her mother. She had no money and there were hardly jobs in the Northeast, so
she came to Pattaya a year earlier. Her friend, Dao, helped her get a job in a massage parlour and taught her in a couple of days how to do massage.

  Over time, I would quite often hear similar stories from different women. Each and every time, the husband ran off. The wives had to work and her kids stayed with grandma, who had been left by her husband a long, long time ago. Generations of children were raised by their grandmothers and hardly knew their mothers. Sometimes I wondered, what kind of impact this has on Thai society.

  Som looked at me for several minutes. She just sat there and stared into my eyes showing how much she felt for me, and how happy she was to be with me. Her eyes filled with tears. “Tamai?” she said sobbing. Why?

  Directly next to us only departed by a curtain a tourist got a massage. He chatted with his masseuse. She tried to press an offer to this chap. She wanted to see him again in the evening and always asked him about his plans. But the tourist didn’t like it much and gave her just elusive answers.

  Som and I whispered in our ears so the two couldn’t hear us. Som wanted to make love but said she couldn’t do it in the parlour. What would her colleagues think about her if they noticed it? Sometime later she started to undress me. She sat up. Her orange coloured T-shirt with the little green writing “New York City” were removed together with her bra, her shorts and her triangle shaped undies. And then we had sex as quietly as possible.

  Som asked for money because she wanted to account for the time with me. She needed to have 900 baht for three hours. She insisted on booking the time as oil massage. A Thai massage would have cost 200 baht per hour, but she said, the mamasan knew Som would only do oil massage.

  The next evening we went out for dinner. To my surprise Som didn’t want to go out with me alone. So Dao, the motorcycle chauffeur with the mobile phone came along. She played gooseberry.

  Now I learned what a bar fine is. If you want to go out with a bar girl–if you take her to a hotel or just go for a walk–you have to pay a fine to the bar, the so called bar fine. In Pattaya the bar fine is normally 200 baht. Some bars especially gogos are more expensive. I was told that I had to pay for masseuses if I wanted them to leave the parlour. If I didn’t pay, Som couldn’t go out with me. I swallowed the pill and paid for both her and Dao’s “salon fine”.

  First we went along Soi Buakhao. Som stopped suddenly in front of a gold store and looked expectantly at me. She pressed my hand and signalled the direction in which she wanted to go. We entered the store. The counter was made of glass. In it lay gold bracelets, gold rings and gold chains in every size and shape against a red background. The walls–also in red–were a background for more glittering gold jewellery. Som talked to the owner who afterwards presented a row of chains on the glass of the counter. Dao talked in length with the shop owner and Som. Finally–and here I guessed–three gold chains remained on the short list. Som looked at me expectantly again and smiled.

  “How much are they?” I asked.

  “Two baht”, said Som.

  “Two baht for a gold chain?” I couldn’t believe it.

  Now the shop owner smiled as well. He explained that baht is not only the Thai currency but also a measurement of weight. One baht is around fifteen grams or ½ ounce of gold with a value of 11,300 baht he told me.

  I looked at jewellery on the wall with subtler chains and asked for weight and price. Some weighed one baht, a half baht, and others a quarter baht. The shop owner referred to the latter as nueng salueng. Four salueng equal one baht. A quarter baht chain was 3,000 baht.

  Som asked me emphatically to buy her a gold chain, and I didn’t want to be seen as a Cheap Charley. It seemed she really wanted to have a chain and I had no other choice than to give in. There was no option, no way out. What would she have thought of me if I put a ridiculous one salueng chain around her neck? Even worse if I didn’t buy her a present at all?

  “Do you take credit cards?” I asked. When I said those words, Som cheered and wrapped her arms around my neck. From the three chains on the counter I could now choose one and put it around Som’s neck.

  “I will always think of you when I wear this chain” she said. “I thank you too much.”

  Again we went along Soi Buakhao and turned onto Soi Diana Inn, Som beside me, holding my hand. I had the feeling she had to walk beside me. No one else, just her. Som should be the woman on my side. A brief sentiment while we went to Second Road. But not brief enough to forget it. I always remembered this feeling I had afterwards.

  We went to the Apex Hotel on Second Road. We could select food from a buffet for 180 baht and eat as much as we wanted. I ate like a sparrow; it was a pure money waster for me. But the two girls knew what they were talking about when they suggested the Apex.

  Although I was out with the love of my life I noticed a waitress. A young thing, about 19 years old with a pretty face, a great body and legs to die for. She welcomed me with a smile like she had known me for years. On her hand, below her thumb, I could see a tattoo. Some letters inside a heart but it seemed she had the word–assumedly a chap’s name–erased afterwards because you could only see the shape of the heart. The letters vanished under scar tissue. When she appeared, I followed her with my eyes. Som noticed it and immediately became jealous.

  “You like young lady,” she said tauntingly.

  I couldn’t deny that the girl was attractive. And she was very, very young.

  “Khun ja ting jan. For young lady.”

  “You will throw me out for a younger lady,” Dao translated. Sometimes Thai can be quite drastic in its phrasing.

  The appetite which I hardly had disappeared altogether. Besides, I really loved Som, and she hit a sore spot. Wasn’t I on the express way to give up my wife for her? And only because I met a much younger and more beautiful “lady”?

  “I bought you a gold chain” I said flatly.

  After a while, Som complained how boring it would be just to eat. She would rather do something else with me. We needed not only time, but we also needed a room.

  After the dinner, we went for a walk and drank something in a bar.

  If you sit down in a bar you will immediately surrounded by street vendors who sell pirated copies of DVDs, watches, flowers and knick-knacks. There are also hawkers who hold up a Polaroid and offer to take your picture. I didn’t hesitate long. I didn’t have a photograph of Som. She didn’t object to photography. She changed her position on the bar stool and smiled lovely into the camera. This picture was my constant companion. I also scanned it into my computer and looked at it whenever I had a chance.

  The next evening, it finally happened: I went to the parlour, and then Dao drove me on the red motorcycle to a hotel in the North part of town, a little bit out of the way. She got the room key from the reception and we took the lift to the third floor. Dao opened the door, gave me the key and smiled.

  “I should wait?” I asked.

  About fifteen minutes later, Som was riding into the parking lot on the red motorcycle. I watched her from the balcony of the room.

  In the middle of the room was a double bed, which occupied almost the entire room. Beside the bed was a fridge, and next to it the air conditioner. At the foot of the bed was a shelf with a TV on it. And barely three paces–if any–to a miniature bathroom. There was a shower and a toilet in a small compartment. I had turned down the air con because it had been very cool but now the temperature rose and Som sweated. She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled.

  “I hot because you with me,” she said.

  I adjusted the air conditioner’s temperature while Som took care of the bed. She pulled the bed cover back, and dusted the linen while I got undressed.

  “Shall I turn off the light?” I asked.

  “Why? You shy? I not see you one year now you want close light?”

  Som got undressed as well. This was one of the pictures which burned into my mind. I watched the profile of her great body while she removed her bra and panties.

  In full il
lumination, we made love twice in a row. Afterwards we talked.

  “This is dream. In never want wake up,” she said.

  Yes, it really was like a dream. And it was a crazy dream. A hotel room was comparatively rented so I could meet with my lover without danger. I had to think about an acquaintance who in situations like that always said, “They are married, but not with each other.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” I suddenly asked.

  “No,” Som said and looked deeply in my eyes. “Have only you. I love you only you.”

  “Did you have many farang boyfriends before me?”

  “Only one. But is over. You finish with wife? Why you not come Thailand live with me?”

  I sat up.

  “And what shall I do here?” I asked.

  “I have idea,” she said. “We can open massage shop together. You owner and I mamasan. What you think?”

  Som was really thrilled when I reluctantly agreed.

  “You big money?” she wanted to know immediately.

  “I have a life insurance which I could cancel.”

  “When you come Thailand again?” she asked. “You come long time?”

  “I need a little bit time. I have to quit my job and raise some money.” I became unsure. “I don’t know,” I said.

  “When? When?”

  “I don’t know,” I repeated.