by Andrew Hicks
‘So she’s a hooker too?’
‘Yes, have many boyfriends send her money. She want marry farang … but until then she bar lady Pattaya.’
‘My god, how can people live like that,’ said Ben.
‘Easy you talking … some people not have money, so work bar.’
‘They could work hard just like you do. You’d never sell yourself.’
‘Massage better … can make good money.’
‘But you worked for nothing in Bangkok and were a cleaner here on the island … you could have escaped all that and be rich by now.’
‘No problem, I happy my life,’ said Fon. ‘I look after Mama, Joy, make merit. Not rich, not too poor, then I die. Next life maybe better.’ Ben thought for a moment. Despite the smiles, her outlook seemed so bleak.
‘But Fon, you’re young and attractive. You’ve got to enjoy this life right now.’
‘Cannot think of myself, family more important … so work every day. Evening tired, look story on TV … pretty girl fall in love, have big house, big Benz. But life not like that for me.’
‘Does life have to be all work though, every day? Have you ever been anywhere for fun and not just for work?’ he asked her.
Fon answered him almost angrily.
‘How I go holiday? Expensive! Farang come holiday, bring girl from Pattaya … go in sea no clothes on, drink too much, get another girl, have more sex. But me not farang, not same me!’ she said accusingly.
‘Come on Fon, that’s a bit hard. I’m not like that either.’
‘No, you good farang. I like!’ She dispelled the tension with peals of laughter, but her smile quickly disappeared. ‘And farang women as bad as men … smoke, drink, go street like bar girl, show their body on beach … Thai men look at them, think they sell sex. Why they do like this?’
‘What’s so wrong with having a good time? Men do, so why not women too?’ said Ben, lying flat on his face on Fon’s blue sheet. ‘Just because a woman’s not all covered up doesn’t mean she’s up for it.’
‘So farang woman only have sex with husband?’
‘Well, no, they sleep with their boyfriends if they want to.’
‘Can sleep with anyone? Not same Thai woman. Thai woman only sleep with husband.’
‘Go on! Tell me another. Did I dream Bangkok?’
‘Ben, Thai girl virgin, not sleep with men, not go crazy like farang woman.’
‘Farang women don’t go crazy,’ said Ben.
‘Yes, but farang woman like sex too much. For woman, sex not important except make baby. If she want too much sex, better she go Pattaya.’
Ben was quite taken aback by her negative view of the farang on holiday.
‘Come on, Fon, sex isn’t that wicked. It’s a pleasure for women too, isn’t it? You can still respect a woman who likes it, can’t you?’
‘Thai woman keep herself for husband, not like bar girl,’ she said quietly.
‘And Fon, the crazy farang on holiday … that’s all it is, people letting off steam. We spend our lives doing exams or locked up in an office saving up, freezing cold, desperate to escape. So what do we do? Rip off our clothes, get pissed and jump in the sea. And there’s nobody watching, so you can score if you want to.’
He immediately regretted this last comment, but either Fon did not understand or it troubled her more that holidays were a terrible waste of money.
‘But Ben, you go holiday, and when money finish you have nothing,’ she said.
‘That’s no problem if you enjoyed it.’
‘Okay for farang, but Thai people cannot. Must pay room, buy rice … Mama Papa sick, pay doctor. Okay buy TV, VCD, video, then you have something, but pay holiday, same burn money … you only get smoke.’
‘Sure Fon, but going travelling you learn so much about the place and stuff.’
‘Learn what? About drinking, about sex?’ she said emphatically.
‘Not fair, Fon. What I mean’s this … you’re only young once. Life’s beautiful, so you’ve got to live it … you don’t have to feel guilty about that. The farang are here for the time of their lives, for one special holiday.’
‘One holiday? But same farang keep coming back,’ she said triumphantly.
Ben decided to try a different tack.
‘And Fon, what’s so special about virginity? I don’t go for sex with bar girls, but two people who respect each other can decide what they want to do together.’
‘So you farang get drunk, have sex, do what you like. But my life’s my work … what I do for my family.’
‘Sounds awfully hard.’
‘Yes, and for Thai woman getting harder. Before, Papa always go work … Mama stay home for family. But now woman working too, and when man not work, woman still do cooking, cleaning, take care children.’
‘So you don’t think much of Thai men then?’
‘Better have woman friend. Men sweet talk me, but I not sixteen anymore.’
Ben sensed this was aimed at him.
‘But Fon, I had to tell you what I feel. I like you too much to shut up.’
‘No problem, I know men talk sweet. Farang always try their luck with me, ask me go room for massage. But no, no, never! I can look after myself now, not like before.’
Ben did not dare to ask exactly what she meant by this so tried a safer question.
‘Your little sister, Jinda. What’s she like?’
‘Jinda, she same me, same face. But she virgin. When man come sweet talk, she run, run. She scared of man.’ Fon’s face lit up. ‘No have boyfriend, no have problems!’
‘I must meet Joy and Jinda,’ said Ben.
‘Can,’ said Fon. ‘Joy over there.’ She pointed into the trees behind them.
As Ben sat up and turned around he caught a glimpse of a little girl ducking behind a tree. When she did not reappear, Fon called to her and the child came dancing down the beach towards them. She wore a well-washed yellow dress that was too big for her skinny frame and looked like a hand-me-down. The buttons behind the neck were not done up and she kept hitching the dress back onto her tiny shoulders. Her hair was wild and her oval face and cheeky smile strongly resembled Fon’s. She bounced right up to them, grinning from ear to ear.
‘This Khun Ben,’ said Fon.
‘Sawasdee ka, Khun Ben,’ said Joy, briefly bowing her head and holding her hands together under her chin in a traditional wai greeting. She looked directly at him, not in the least afraid of the big farang.
‘Fon, she’s lovely. Joy’s the right name for her.’
Fon glowed with pleasure and pride.
Joy had disappeared and Ben was sitting up facing out to sea as Fon manipulated his shoulders, when he heard her speaking in Thai to someone behind him. He looked round again and saw Joy dragging a young Thai woman down the beach. She had been sent to find Jinda. But Jinda hardly spoke any English and, on meeting him, could only giggle in embarrassment. The two sisters seemed so very different.
As Fon finished the massage and started to pack up, it suddenly dawned on Ben that after all the waiting and their brief time together, the day was now over. Fon would soon disappear with Joy and Jinda, leaving him totally alone.
‘Hiu khao. Very hungry,’ said Fon. ‘Shall we go eat?’
‘Eat? You mean with me?’ He could hardly believe what he was hearing.
‘Yes, why not? You not like?’ She hooted with laughter.
‘I like very much.’
‘Okay, go shower. See you here, half hour. We eat good place.’ She pointed along the beach to where in the gathering darkness the restaurants were setting out their bamboo tables on the beach for the night’s entertainment. So Ben’s day was not yet over after all. He went back to his hut, had a quick shower and put on a clean tee-shirt and cotton trousers and was back on the beach well within the half hour. But Fon, Joy and Jinda were not yet there. He waited and still they did not come. Once again he was waiting for Fon. He had no idea where she stayed and would not dare to go looking f
or her even if he did, so he sat on the fallen tree by the massage place, anxiously looking at his watch. Had he misunderstood where they were to meet? Perhaps they were already down at the restaurant. It was now a full hour since Fon had gone to shower and he could bear to wait no longer. He got up and started off along the beach but had only gone a hundred yards when he heard a voice.
‘Ben, where you go?’ It was Fon coming out of the trees with Jinda and Joy.
‘Just going to look for you,’ he said, too relieved to be annoyed. ‘No problem … we go eat.’
Ben was entranced by how Fon looked. She had changed into a blue dress with a high waist, an embroidered bib over the bust and short gathered sleeves. Her hair was loose and she had taken some trouble with her makeup, accentuating her eyebrows and smiling eyes. Perhaps this was why she had taken so long. Joy was in her best dress and had been powdered around the neck and face making her look like a little ghost. Jinda, in jeans and tee shirt, seemed more relaxed than before and was laughing and joking with Fon, while Joy was rushing in circles, grabbing Fon by the hand, and wanting her all to herself.
Ben thought the walk along the beach in the thickness of the night was magical. On their left were the restaurants with their glowing barbecues, already packed with people, to their right the crashing of the waves. Walking to the far end of the beach, they came to the last of the eating places beyond the main group of restaurants. He wondered whether she had chosen this quieter one because she was with a farang; local eyebrows might be raised if she were seen out at night with a foreigner.
‘Come, sit,’ said Fon. ‘What you like Ben?’
He inspected the seafood on display and chose tiger prawns.
‘We eat pork, fried chicken and noodle,’ she said.
‘What’ll Joy have?’ he asked.
‘She look when food come … not eat much.’
Sure enough Joy was too excited to sit still, dancing on the moonlit sand, lost in childish fantasy. First she mimed as a karaoke singer with an invisible microphone, then picked up some leaves for a mobile phone with which she dialled the world. But the best game of all was jumping on the heads of the long shadows cast by Jinda and Fon. Ben saw her looking down at the shapes and crept up behind her. As his shadow came towards hers with arms raised, she let out a shriek of delight and escaped away across the sand.
As they ate, it was not easy for Ben to talk with Jinda, and Fon seemed a little tense, lacking her usual sparkle, her serious face very different to the daytime one. He tried asking her about her work.
‘Good day today? Many people?’
‘Yes, good day. One braiding, four massage … one thousand baht. Now very tired.’
‘And tell me a bit about Jinda’s work.’
‘She look after Joy, and when I finish massage, she cooking, Montego Resort. But she not work tonight.’
‘Sounds a good arrangement.’
‘Joy now four. When five, she go school. Jinda cooking daytime and I pay her less.’
‘So you pay her for looking after Joy?’
‘Yes, I have money so I give to Jinda. She my sister.’
‘That’s good … better than English families.’
‘And tomorrow I go Ban Phe, send money to Mama. Gaeo come too.’
‘So you and your mother have bank accounts?’
‘I have … Mama not have. I send money to Mama friend, telephone to say money in bank already.’
As she was speaking, a brilliant idea was forming in Ben’s mind.
‘Fon, I’ve got to go and check my email. When are you going?’
‘Have booking nine o’clock … go eleven thirty. We go together?’
‘That’d be great,’ said Ben. ‘Let’s do it.’
Fon then exchanged a few words in Thai with Jinda.
‘Jinda and Joy come too,’ she said. ‘Can eat Ban Phe … go market, buy food. Half day no work, sanuk dee. Have holiday, like farang!’
Then the food was served, the many plates squeezed onto the table around the flickering oil lamp. Joy sat and toyed with her food, constantly wriggling and putting her feet up on the chair, displaying her skinny knees and whinging a little. Fon fed her bits of rice, Joy wanting her undivided attention. When the food was finished, Fon called for the bill and Ben paid it. It was time for Joy to go to bed, so they walked slowly back along the beach peering at the fish on display and discussing the bars and eating places. On reaching the spot where Fon would go up to her hut, Ben again felt the pain of parting. The question slipped out; he just had to ask.
‘Can I walk back to your room with you, Fon?’
‘No, cannot. You go bar, find friend.’
‘Right,’ he said, looking disappointed.
‘So you come Ban Phe tomorrow?’
‘Yes, I’d really like to.’
‘Okay, eleven thirty boat.’
The parting was brief, Joy holding Fon’s hand and now looking tired and subdued. Ben felt suddenly excluded as he watched them disappear into the darkness. He headed for the beach bar, sat down at a table and ordered a beer, but seeing Clarissa sitting alone a few tables away, he got up and joined her.
‘So you’ve been left on your own too,’ he said to her as he sat down.
‘Yes, Samantha and her sidekick left yesterday and Stig, the mad Norwegian, got the boat this morning.’
‘Are you pining for him?’ teased Ben.
‘Not exactly, but he was good company. Quite a revelation really.’
‘And no Maca or Chuck?’
‘Probably doped up in their hut.’
There was a silence before Ben broached what he really wanted to talk about.
‘Well, I’ve had a fascinating day … or an hour or two of it at least.’
‘Let me guess. Massage was it?’
‘Yes, but it’s not so much the massage as the chance to talk. You never get to talk to Thai people and I’ve learned so much from Fon.’
‘So what’s she told you then?’
‘We talked about tourists and about Thai families and sex mainly.’
‘Bet you did.’
‘No seriously, there were some real surprises. She doesn’t condemn the sex workers, but she’s got strict views on chastity, and being respectable seems crucial for her.’
‘So you mean a girl’s a virgin or married … or else she’s a whore?’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s about it.’
‘An attractive young masseur must have to be careful with her reputation in a small place like this,’ said Clarissa.
‘It’s a bit nineteenth century though, the fallen woman and stuff … weird given Thailand’s reputation for sex tourism. And Fon’s really suspicious of love relationships … talks of marriage as an economic partnership. And definitely no sex outside marriage. It’s so different here.’
‘Rural societies are always traditional, I guess, putting the family first and so on. But it looks like Thailand’s changing fast, and I bet there’s horrific double standards … abstinence for the ladies while the men screw around.’ She rolled her eyes and broke into a smile.
‘No joke though Clarissa, I really admire Fon’s principles. Most of her money goes looking after Joy and her mother, and she says her sister Jinda’s a virgin. They’re both pretty wary of men.’
‘Maybe Fon has reason to be … you said there’s a boyfriend in the background somewhere. And the child you told me about … Joy is it? You don’t really know who the mother is, do you. And does Fon claim to be one of the virgins?’
Ben did not have the chance to reply to all these questions as they were interrupted by Chuck and Maca noisily joining them at the table after their day’s snorkelling. Already well-oiled, they ordered more beers.
‘Great beach, mate,’ said Maca. ‘Wasn’t Aussie coral but it was good. You should’ve come with us.’
‘Yeah, you dunno how to live, man,’ said Chuck dreamily.
For the rest of the evening Ben was quiet and lost in thought and after a couple o
f beers with the lads, he went back to his hut to sleep. It had been a frustrating day with a good ending, though the next day’s trip into Ban Phe with Fon was looking much more promising.
13
As the eleven thirty ferry out of Ao Sapporot came clear of the headland, its brightly-painted hull began to lift in the gentle swell. The on-shore breeze moderated the heat of the day and the sea sparkled and danced to the rhythm of a perfect cloudless morning. Ben watched from the stern as the island fell behind in all its beauty. At this distance, apart from the mast for cellphone reception, Koh Samet looked undeveloped and unspoiled. Beautiful though it was, he felt relieved to be getting away from where the tensions with Emma had come to a head, even if only for a few hours.
On board with him were Fon, her friend Gaeo, sister Jinda and little Joy. Fon had already squeezed in two hours of massage that morning and only just managed to get aboard the last boat shuttling passengers to the ferry anchored in the bay. Ben had taken the first boat with the others and was terrified she would not make it in time. From the ferry he watched as she splashed through the shallows, desperately trying to roll up her tight jeans, laughing and joking with the boat boys. Now they were all comfortably installed in deckchairs on the upper deck, Fon trying to dry out her jeans. The three women were absorbed in excited chatter which had them in fits of laughter, while Joy was rushing around under Fon’s anxious eye. It was a party all the way, every ounce of enjoyment being extracted from a mundane trip to the bank to send money home.
Forty minutes were spent watching the island pass by the port side before the ferry nosed around the end of the massive stone breakwater that created a safe haven and made Ban Phe a major fishing port. The long jetty was crowded with boats, the wooden planking of the walkway and the bustle of pick-ups and motorbikes already familiar to Ben. It was only a few days earlier that he had come here for the first time en route to the island with Emma but it seemed an age. So much had happened in so short a time.
Joy led the way along the jetty, pulling Fon by the hand and talking incessantly. They passed through the stalls and wooden shacks selling beach clothes and fruit and reached the road. It was a busy urban street, lined with featureless three-storey concrete buildings, their facades covered with signs and hoardings advertising every modern temptation from Pepsi to mobile phones.