Sitting here waiting for my cabana boy who is now 35 minutes late, but this is so typical. Probably early in Thai time.
And then I never know if I misunderstood the directions or did they? Am I supposed to go downstairs and escort him up? If I walk all that way down, and he's not there, do I wait? Such confusion. And I do so want to be culturally correct.
I'm sure there are times when the Thais just look at me and think, what the hell is she thinking? Like if if I don't say anything on the bus and he breezes by my stop, the driver looks at me like "Why didn't you say something?" (I'm just interpreting his facial expression here as I don't have a clue what he's really thinking.) But if I say "ma JER" just before my stop, he nods violently and says "krap, krap" (ok) as if to say, "Of course lady, why wouldn't I stop there?) (Again, I'm just interpreting his facial expression here as I don't have a clue what he's really thinking.) Now wonder I always appear confused.
Watcharee called this morning and invited me to join her as a guest at the gym. Right now, this is the only way I can afford to go, I feel like a lurker, tagging along for the freebies. I tried to use all the machines - I gradually realize that they are the same movements/muscle groups as at home, but the machines are configured differently so sometimes I realize that I am sitting on a machine backwards or have my legs over the bar when they should be under, and so on. Fortunately, if anyone notices, they don't say anything.
I headed out this morning in search of food - breakfast of some sort. I asked a couple of people at the bus stop where was "a han" (food) and motion stupidly to my mouth. Most people stare at me blankly, but one brilliant soul points toward all the farang restaurants over at the cinema - KFC, Swenson's, Black Canyon Coffee - but this is 9 am and they are quite obviously locked up and dark. One can only wonder, what the hell did she think I meant?
So I go walking in the already blistering heat , peering into windows and down alleys until I finally see a place with miniature tables and plastic kiddie type chairs out on the sidewalk. Honestly, how hard would it be to throw in a few farang sized chairs? I'm getting a little tired of eating with my elbows on my knees.
I ask the girl for breakfast, she appears confused, I ask for Joak (that rice soup that they eat in the morning), she doesn't have it but she will make me Kai giow - omelet. Any port in a storm, so I ask for it with bread,she doesn't have any, I ask for rice, she says yes and hands me the menu featuring fried rice with chicken, pork , or shrimp. I was hoping to get plain white rice, but since I don't know how to say either 'plain' or 'white', and she insists I pick one, I say "OK, gai." (chicken.) I ask for coffee, she says hot or cold, I say hot, she says she doesn't have hot (so why did you ask?), and I say 'Ok,then cafe yen.' Like I had a choice?
But then, amidst the confusion,she serves me the most delicious omelet with plain white rice (?) and the best iced coffee I've ever had. I'm thinking about the fried rice with chicken that she forced me to order and it occurs to me that I may have accidentally ordered two meals, but oh well, I'll take one home. This sort of snafu happens often and you just roll with it. She sends a cute young boy (who may well be her husband, I am a retard at judging ages here) down the street and he comes back with 2 new bottles of fish sauce to put on my table. (You could have saved yourself the effort, sonny.) I ask (and dammit I know the outcome ahead of time) for salt, which I variously pronounce as Gluea and Kluea, and any variation in between and this is one of those words that I just can't seem to pronounce clearly enough to communicate to them. I think maybe because they don't use it (hence the run on fish sauce.) It suddenly occurs to me that they DO use pepper, so I ask for pepper (with a side of gluea.) Miraculously, she understands, goes NEXT DOOR, and comes back with pepper and a souffle cup of salt. Problem solved.
From here I go to the gym where they first insist I call Watcharee on her cell phone to tell her that her guest has arrived. But since she's in a yoga class, I know she doesn't have her phone, but since I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of communicating that to them, I just pretend to call. Fortunately, Watcharee comes around the corner just in time to save me from telling a big fat lie and I sign in as her guest at the gym for which I need a copy of my passport, phone number and signature. Just in case I decide to run off with a treadmill or something like that. Of course, I'm not carrying my passport around with me anymore (I'm not anticipating a coup in the near future) and since I don't drive here (I would be nuts to try) I have no picture id. I also (and this always amuses the Thais) do not have my telephone number memorized so I have to dig through my backpack and scroll through pages of menu whenever anyone asks for my number. All this confuses the three little Thai girls at the desk immensely since clearly then, I must be a terrorist. After a long discussion (with Watcharee vouching for my integrity) they debate whether it is safe to let this blonde foreigner near
their equipment. When they finally agree to take a chance on me, they procede to ask for a 200 B locker key deposit for which I must sign and GIVE PICTURE ID AND PHONE NUMBER !!!
As one farang teacher so aptly told me, Thais are hell on form but lack substance.
Oh, Cabana Boy...... where are you?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Pak Kret, Nonthaburi, Thailand
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