The Gift and the Curse

Chapter 1

Farang

Khaosan Road, Bangkok, Thailand 2007

“Tae, please come and sit down.” Kate tried in earnest to control her hyperactive four year old son from climbing all over the market stalls. Giving up she pulled up a tiny plastic stool (three inches high and the size fit for only a child). Sighing, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Looking on hopelessly at her son who ignored her pleas, she smiled to herself as he entertained the locals.

Suddenly, she got a whiff of the Bangkok air. Strong, potent and distinctive, it was amazing how quickly one became accustomed to it without realizing it and how it lives on in the senses as a permanent reminder of the atmosphere of the place. Lingering over it is the sweet aroma of burning joss sticks and candles that are always outside Buddhist spirit houses and temples. Bangkok was a far cry away from the tranquil island life that Kate knew as home. The noise and traffic was overwhelming to her. The word for traffic in Thai is rot tit meaning for cars to be literally stuck which is exactly what sometimes happens. If unlucky enough, one could be sat in a taxi for two hours on a short trip which would normally take ten minutes during non-rush-hour times. I’ve wanted to bash my head against the door in frustration many times.

Kate was already missing the fresh sea breeze and the peace of Koh Samet after only a few days. She had forgotten how chaotic Bangkok could be. Kate strolled along Khaosan Road, a popular tourist spot for travellers which was her first destination many years ago. She was so comfortable in Thailand now which was once alien; the language and culture was both familiar. She watched the street vendors sleeping lazily in their chairs, idling the time away whilst waiting for customers, chit chatting, watching Thai soap operas, drinking and eating.   Their laid-back approach to life is enviable; it’s all about sabaai sabaai – taking it easy – and living life at a steady pace.  Not worrying too much when trade is bad. She peered across at the taxi drivers pestering the tourists who passed by, she could hear them comparing with their friends how many fares they had taken that day. She saw the odd rat and cockroach rummaging around the bins, scuttling across a café floor to the unknowing backpackers munching on their sandwiches watching a Man United football match or the latest film on DVD (or D WEE D as Thais commonly pronounce it).

In general, Thais easily relate to and are mesmerized by children, a characteristic of which Kate was very fond. Not knowing their own strength sometimes you would often see Thais pinch children’s cheeks tightly grinding their teeth with uncontrollable excitement.

“Easy Lenny” Kate would joke to herself and gesture them to be gentle.

Tae and the street vendors were engrossed in their game. He clambered all over their stalls, over their fake Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirts, Billabong shorts and other copied stock, swinging from pole to pole and grinning mischievously. Kate knew she should have told him to sit with her and behave but she didn’t have the energy. Tae got attention wherever he went.  They could see Tae was Thai yet somehow different, his hair was a lighter shade of brown and had bigger eyes but looked certainly more Thai than English. Looking around confused for his mother, Thais would drop their jaws in ignorant surprise when they saw Kate, a farang. Kate would hear them unsubtly ask Tae in Thai if she was his mother, thinking she couldn’t possibly understand Thai which she now spoke fluently. Eating sticky rice and pork with his hands like the other Thai kids, Kate tried to picture Tae in England which seemed impossible. Kate was stricken with panic. Could she do this, take him away from his home and the only world he knew and loved? He was already missing the island, their home from which they’d only been away just a few days.

The term farang was one of the first Thai words I ever learnt, (along with uan meaning to be fat) a word that most visitors will hear within minutes of departing the Airport. It means ‘foreigner’ or ‘Caucasian’. Some Thais will often point and yell this at you excitedly which could get a little wearisome after a while.  It’s a term one wouldn’t dream of using in Western societies. Political correctness is a world away from Thailand and their forthright manner of speaking can take some getting used to at first.

Kate grew anxious. The bus was late which didn’t help matters. The longer she pondered and deliberated the more she felt this was a mistake. She felt like leaving and taking Tae back home. Agitated, she looked around at the crowd of people who were also growing impatient by the wait. Tourists, Kate suspected. She almost envied them. Enjoying their two or three week holiday in the Land of Smile but now heading back to their country – back to normality? Kate had forgotten what normal was. She knew it was going to be difficult to adjust to life in England again.  Having lived on an island for seven years, living the Thai way, eating spicy food, sleeping in a wooden hut, being woken by chickens, birds and dogs howling, waves crashing against rocks... how would she adjust to the nine till five office job or even wear shoes again? She thought back to her first month here when she had been so young and naïve. She laughed at herself as she remembered arguing with her mum at Heathrow Airport as she insisted on bringing her must have Jimmy Choo shoes backpacking! She couldn’t even remember where they were now. She had been so vain and materialistic then. Her family wouldn’t recognize her now.

She became distracted by an irate couple beside her arguing quietly trying to go unnoticed. The girl was blatantly pissed off that her boyfriend was checking out the leggy blonde who had walked in wearing very short hot pants. Kate was overwhelmed by an intense wave of sadness; she missed her husband dearly, knowing she would never get to have petty squabbles with him again. Kate noticed the couple’s awkward body language and wondered where they were from. The girl looked Spanish or Israeli but had a cockney British accent and looked surprisingly familiar to her and he looked distinctively African given his dress and style. She guessed she had probably seen them on Koh Samet island; most travellers stopped by there at some point.

***

Noi felt sick. She splashed her face with cold water and scrubbed at her skin to rid the smell that was John. She wondered how long she could keep up the façade. She reasoned with herself that if it wasn’t John it would just be some other farang right?   Noi was tired and weary at just twenty five. She felt old beyond her years.  She’d been ‘on the game’ and in the underworld for too long now and needed to get out before it killed her in more ways than one. At least John wasn’t too demanding. Noi rarely thought about the sex part of her job until now, she couldn’t seem to get rid of his smell, it was all over her...she felt so dirty. Sex for her was unemotional and robotic, just a simple act. She wondered why it was such a big deal to them. It was business, supply and demand, and she was in for the taking. Drying her face she tried to catch her breath. Her nerves were getting the better of her. She had already clocked Michael outside waiting for the bus and they had exchanged glances acknowledging one another’s presence. She didn’t like Michael. She didn’t trust him; she found African men to be intimidating. Noi was curious to know who the Indian girl was he’d brought with him, he’d told her he would be alone and she didn’t like surprises. She contemplated ditching John for less hassle but decided today of all days she might need the company… and back up.

Suddenly, she threw up. She was violently sick and she knew it was time to cut back on alcohol; her body wasn’t like it used to be. As she squatted grasping the toilet, she felt a soft hand gently rub her shoulders and back sympathetically. A kind Thai girl was asking if she was Ok and if she needed any water. As Noi turned to say “Thanks” she was surprised to see that this girl wasn’t Thai at all. She was an exotic farang girl who spoke Thai like a native. The girl was Russian and Noi recognized her from Pattaya immediately. She used to be a dancer at a club to which she and Pim sometimes went. Noi felt a sharp gush of panic as she thought of Pattaya, Russians, and most of all Misha – the notoriously violent gangster who was after her blood. Noi admiringly stared at the girl’s beauty. Her body was perfectly proportioned - she had long curly blonde hair; piercing blue eyes, large breasts and a slim waist. She was the most beautiful girl Noi had ever seen.

“No wonder these girls made a lot of money in Pattaya” Noi thought to herself.

The Russian sensed Noi’s stare and smiled back, asking if she was feeling better. Noi nodded and headed for the door.

Although the Thai authorities come down very heavily on drug offences and are very much against prostitution, they are not judgmental people and tend not to pass opinions as to what individuals may get up to. Like everywhere in the world for those who seek out and/or deal in drugs, there are always devious ways of getting hold of them and prostitutes will always find a way to flaunt their wares. Pattaya has been singled out by them and adopted for their underworld activities and therefore has achieved a certain notoriety with regard to its nightlife.  The area is much sought-after by seedy tourists looking for hedonistic pleasures and is no longer a place for the faint hearted.  To the male visitors it is a hedonistic paradise.

For this reason the good people of Thailand tend to avoid it.

Raheena edged her rucksack closer to her feet. She was nervous about the crowds of people around her. Michael irritably told her to relax and act naturally as they waited for the bus that didn’t seem to be ever turning up. She was still pissed off with him for firstly suggesting they opted for Khaosan Road for transportation - if she had her way she’d be in her own private car with a driver. Secondly, he was blatantly flirting with the blonde bint who had just walked in with shorts on up to her arse looking like the right silly little slag that she probably was. Not that Raheena was too bothered or jealous about that, she had given up on that part of their relationship a long time ago, well… since she had discovered what he was up to. It annoyed her how reckless he was with the goods, swinging his bag around like they weren’t important. 

Raheena hated Khaosan Road. She called it ‘The road of the great unwashed foreigner’: stinky, hippy dreadlock-haired travellers with nothing to do all day but drink beer and watch DVDs and then brag on emails to friends at home about how ‘interesting’  Asia was and how much they were ‘finding’ themselves, when really the only finding they did was to go to the nearest beach with other foreigners to boast about what countries they had all ‘done’  together. She doubted if any of these travellers had actually really spoken with Thais other than just taxi drivers or tour guides.

Three years in Thailand had left Raheena bitter; not particularly about Thais but men in general. She’d had one bad experience after another and wondered why God was dealing her such crap cards. She’d been waiting over an hour for this bloody bus and she was ready to give up and hop in a taxi with or without Michael. She looked around at the fellow passengers who were growing equally as impatient. She spotted the ‘Pattaya Man’ and his Tart straight away. The tart was hung-over and looked like shit and she felt a slight glimmer of smugness as she watched her take deep breaths to try and stop herself from vomiting.

“Oh Jesus” Raheena murmured to herself suddenly. She realized that she recognized the Pattaya Man. John was an old colleague with whom she had worked in Pattaya. He was a crap, unqualified teacher and she didn’t like him one bit. She kept her head low not wanting to get eye contact or do any awkward fake “Hellos”. Luckily John didn’t seem inclined to look up and strike a conversation either. The last time she had spoken to John was when she had vented all her anger at him about her ex, Jake, she had publicly embarrassed John in the staff room and wasn’t the least bit sorry.

“Dirty old perv” she hissed under her breath. She almost wanted to get his attention so that she could abuse him again.  ‘That would be fun’ she thought to herself.

John kept his head down and pretended she was a stranger - he didn’t want to get talking to that Cockney bitch.

When Michael had turned away (smiling at the blonde) and nobody else was looking, Raheena slowly reached into her rucksack for the little blue velvet purse of gems and tucked them inside her bum bag that was firmly attached to her waist. Finally, the mini bus turned up and there was a high pitched holler from an elderly Thai woman screeching for them to get on the bus. She darted on the bus like a bullet, without a second look for Michael. Accidentally she almost knocked over a little boy. Feeling guilty, she patted the boy’s shoulder, smiling around for his mother apologetically and allowing them to clamber on the bus first. The boy was cute and smiley, perhaps about four years old, was mixed Thai and reminded her of so many kids she used to teach. Her natural teacher instinct took over and she began helping the child with his bag. It occurred to her at that moment how much she missed being a teacher.

John was a sixty eight year old retired engineer. Depressed and weary of Grimsby he found sanctuary (like most lonely men) in the bosom of a Thai lady. Having lived in Thailand for a number of years he had no desire to return to his old life, Thailand was his home now. In England he was nothing. Sure, he had friends back in his local pub but his life was empty. He was just a prop on a stool at the end of the bar. Thailand treated him like a king and here in his palace he would remain. Thai women loved him. He found the attention unbelievable at first, he had never been exposed to this life before. Now, after a few years, it was routine to have women flocking to his feet. Everywhere he went ladies would talk to him; young and beautiful women…the kind who only existed in his dreams…were in his life and actually in love with him, he was doing the picking!

He flashed a smile and the girls jumped on cue to the sound of their new cash machine. It was almost a joke how often the bargirls referred to their husbands as ATM machines. No matter how many women had hurt John or milked him for every penny he had, stupidly he went back for more. Deep down, he was looking for love. Somebody to void the empty lost feeling he had had for so long now. Every new woman he hoped would be the one, another Irene… each bargirl, he convinced himself, was different from the last. Meeting Noi on the bus in Chiangmai was a sign; he was sucked in by her pretty face and charming personality. He believed that in time (as always) she would fall in love with him.

Prostitution is not accepted as such in Thailand and so if a ‘bargirl’ wishes to make herself some extra money by privately giving the tourists what they need then that is done without the sanction of the authorities.  Western men can justify their behaviour about sleeping with and ‘dating’ girls night after night as opposed to ‘going with prostitutes’. They can forget it’s prostitution as there are no ‘red light districts’, curb crawling or dodgy back allies. Technically, to these men, it doesn’t feel like they are paying for sex as these girls tell them how much they love them and that they are their ‘girlfriend’. They take them out for dinners, go shopping and the movies etc. as in any other relationships except they pay their ‘bargirl girlfriend’ a monthly salary to not go back to work and to stay with them. You can have anything you want in Thailand be it a wife, a maid, a cook, a nanny, your own personal masseuse…. whatever your heart desires…as long as you pay the price! Just like any other country, prostitutes are always out there and available for anyone who wants to find them.

John immediately spotted the blonde - who wouldn’t? Cautious at first after his recent run-in with Russians he edged his body towards her whilst Noi was in the bathroom. The Russian shifted awkwardly even before John spoke. Feeling his sleazy looks all over her body she pulled nervously at her tiny hot pants hopelessly trying to cover her legs.

“You off t’Airport then are you love?” John asked in a broad Northern accent, raising his eyebrows flirtingly as he spoke, “where ya going?” 

The girl grimaced but answered politely “Phuket”. 

“Oh what a coincidence, that’s where we’re heading, perhaps…err… we might bump into each other there then eh!” he grunted at her. He had all kinds of warped thoughts of threesomes and whatever else his imagination could stretch to that he and Noi could get up to with this sexy Russian.

The girl felt repulsed. Turning away from him she bluntly ended their conversation without making eye contact. Within seconds she had escaped his company and headed to the toilet. John had been blatantly shunned. Embarrassed from the rejection he dropped his head and kept quiet, hoping Raheena hadn’t heard their conversation. She was an uptight gobshite and he didn’t need her laughing at his expense. Raheena had of course noticed and she openly sniggered at his rejection.

“No change there eh John, women running away from you” she said out loud trying to get his attention. John continued to ignore her, keeping his eyes to the floor relieved that he still had Noi at least.   

© Sarah Shivnan. All rights reserved by the author.

Published by Blue Cloud Publishing

www.blackleafpublishing.com

www.sarahshivnan.com

If you enjoyed this first chapter preview of Sarah Shivnan's new book 'The Gift and the Curse' you can easily purchase her book online here at Blackleaf Publishing: 

Chapter 1

Farang

Khaosan Road, Bangkok, Thailand 2007

“Tae, please come and sit down.” Kate tried in earnest to control her hyperactive four year old son from climbing all over the market stalls. Giving up she pulled up a tiny plastic stool (three inches high and the size fit for only a child). Sighing, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Looking on hopelessly at her son who ignored her pleas, she smiled to herself as he entertained the locals.

Suddenly, she got a whiff of the Bangkok air. Strong, potent and distinctive, it was amazing how quickly one became accustomed to it without realizing it and how it lives on in the senses as a permanent reminder of the atmosphere of the place. Lingering over it is the sweet aroma of burning joss sticks and candles that are always outside Buddhist spirit houses and temples. Bangkok was a far cry away from the tranquil island life that Kate knew as home. The noise and traffic was overwhelming to her. The word for traffic in Thai is rot tit meaning for cars to be literally stuck which is exactly what sometimes happens. If unlucky enough, one could be sat in a taxi for two hours on a short trip which would normally take ten minutes during non-rush-hour times. I’ve wanted to bash my head against the door in frustration many times.

Kate was already missing the fresh sea breeze and the peace of Koh Samet after only a few days. She had forgotten how chaotic Bangkok could be. Kate strolled along Khaosan Road, a popular tourist spot for travellers which was her first destination many years ago. She was so comfortable in Thailand now which was once alien; the language and culture was both familiar. She watched the street vendors sleeping lazily in their chairs, idling the time away whilst waiting for customers, chit chatting, watching Thai soap operas, drinking and eating.   Their laid-back approach to life is enviable; it’s all about sabaai sabaai – taking it easy – and living life at a steady pace.  Not worrying too much when trade is bad. She peered across at the taxi drivers pestering the tourists who passed by, she could hear them comparing with their friends how many fares they had taken that day. She saw the odd rat and cockroach rummaging around the bins, scuttling across a café floor to the unknowing backpackers munching on their sandwiches watching a Man United football match or the latest film on DVD (or D WEE D as Thais commonly pronounce it).

In general, Thais easily relate to and are mesmerized by children, a characteristic of which Kate was very fond. Not knowing their own strength sometimes you would often see Thais pinch children’s cheeks tightly grinding their teeth with uncontrollable excitement.

“Easy Lenny” Kate would joke to herself and gesture them to be gentle.

Tae and the street vendors were engrossed in their game. He clambered all over their stalls, over their fake Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirts, Billabong shorts and other copied stock, swinging from pole to pole and grinning mischievously. Kate knew she should have told him to sit with her and behave but she didn’t have the energy. Tae got attention wherever he went.  They could see Tae was Thai yet somehow different, his hair was a lighter shade of brown and had bigger eyes but looked certainly more Thai than English. Looking around confused for his mother, Thais would drop their jaws in ignorant surprise when they saw Kate, a farang. Kate would hear them unsubtly ask Tae in Thai if she was his mother, thinking she couldn’t possibly understand Thai which she now spoke fluently. Eating sticky rice and pork with his hands like the other Thai kids, Kate tried to picture Tae in England which seemed impossible. Kate was stricken with panic. Could she do this, take him away from his home and the only world he knew and loved? He was already missing the island, their home from which they’d only been away just a few days.

The term farang was one of the first Thai words I ever learnt, (along with uan meaning to be fat) a word that most visitors will hear within minutes of departing the Airport. It means ‘foreigner’ or ‘Caucasian’. Some Thais will often point and yell this at you excitedly which could get a little wearisome after a while.  It’s a term one wouldn’t dream of using in Western societies. Political correctness is a world away from Thailand and their forthright manner of speaking can take some getting used to at first.

Kate grew anxious. The bus was late which didn’t help matters. The longer she pondered and deliberated the more she felt this was a mistake. She felt like leaving and taking Tae back home. Agitated, she looked around at the crowd of people who were also growing impatient by the wait. Tourists, Kate suspected. She almost envied them. Enjoying their two or three week holiday in the Land of Smile but now heading back to their country – back to normality? Kate had forgotten what normal was. She knew it was going to be difficult to adjust to life in England again.  Having lived on an island for seven years, living the Thai way, eating spicy food, sleeping in a wooden hut, being woken by chickens, birds and dogs howling, waves crashing against rocks... how would she adjust to the nine till five office job or even wear shoes again? She thought back to her first month here when she had been so young and naïve. She laughed at herself as she remembered arguing with her mum at Heathrow Airport as she insisted on bringing her must have Jimmy Choo shoes backpacking! She couldn’t even remember where they were now. She had been so vain and materialistic then. Her family wouldn’t recognize her now.

She became distracted by an irate couple beside her arguing quietly trying to go unnoticed. The girl was blatantly pissed off that her boyfriend was checking out the leggy blonde who had walked in wearing very short hot pants. Kate was overwhelmed by an intense wave of sadness; she missed her husband dearly, knowing she would never get to have petty squabbles with him again. Kate noticed the couple’s awkward body language and wondered where they were from. The girl looked Spanish or Israeli but had a cockney British accent and looked surprisingly familiar to her and he looked distinctively African given his dress and style. She guessed she had probably seen them on Koh Samet island; most travellers stopped by there at some point.

***

Noi felt sick. She splashed her face with cold water and scrubbed at her skin to rid the smell that was John. She wondered how long she could keep up the façade. She reasoned with herself that if it wasn’t John it would just be some other farang right?   Noi was tired and weary at just twenty five. She felt old beyond her years.  She’d been ‘on the game’ and in the underworld for too long now and needed to get out before it killed her in more ways than one. At least John wasn’t too demanding. Noi rarely thought about the sex part of her job until now, she couldn’t seem to get rid of his smell, it was all over her...she felt so dirty. Sex for her was unemotional and robotic, just a simple act. She wondered why it was such a big deal to them. It was business, supply and demand, and she was in for the taking. Drying her face she tried to catch her breath. Her nerves were getting the better of her. She had already clocked Michael outside waiting for the bus and they had exchanged glances acknowledging one another’s presence. She didn’t like Michael. She didn’t trust him; she found African men to be intimidating. Noi was curious to know who the Indian girl was he’d brought with him, he’d told her he would be alone and she didn’t like surprises. She contemplated ditching John for less hassle but decided today of all days she might need the company… and back up.

Suddenly, she threw up. She was violently sick and she knew it was time to cut back on alcohol; her body wasn’t like it used to be. As she squatted grasping the toilet, she felt a soft hand gently rub her shoulders and back sympathetically. A kind Thai girl was asking if she was Ok and if she needed any water. As Noi turned to say “Thanks” she was surprised to see that this girl wasn’t Thai at all. She was an exotic farang girl who spoke Thai like a native. The girl was Russian and Noi recognized her from Pattaya immediately. She used to be a dancer at a club to which she and Pim sometimes went. Noi felt a sharp gush of panic as she thought of Pattaya, Russians, and most of all Misha – the notoriously violent gangster who was after her blood. Noi admiringly stared at the girl’s beauty. Her body was perfectly proportioned - she had long curly blonde hair; piercing blue eyes, large breasts and a slim waist. She was the most beautiful girl Noi had ever seen.

“No wonder these girls made a lot of money in Pattaya” Noi thought to herself.

The Russian sensed Noi’s stare and smiled back, asking if she was feeling better. Noi nodded and headed for the door.

Although the Thai authorities come down very heavily on drug offences and are very much against prostitution, they are not judgmental people and tend not to pass opinions as to what individuals may get up to. Like everywhere in the world for those who seek out and/or deal in drugs, there are always devious ways of getting hold of them and prostitutes will always find a way to flaunt their wares. Pattaya has been singled out by them and adopted for their underworld activities and therefore has achieved a certain notoriety with regard to its nightlife.  The area is much sought-after by seedy tourists looking for hedonistic pleasures and is no longer a place for the faint hearted.  To the male visitors it is a hedonistic paradise.

For this reason the good people of Thailand tend to avoid it.

Raheena edged her rucksack closer to her feet. She was nervous about the crowds of people around her. Michael irritably told her to relax and act naturally as they waited for the bus that didn’t seem to be ever turning up. She was still pissed off with him for firstly suggesting they opted for Khaosan Road for transportation - if she had her way she’d be in her own private car with a driver. Secondly, he was blatantly flirting with the blonde bint who had just walked in with shorts on up to her arse looking like the right silly little slag that she probably was. Not that Raheena was too bothered or jealous about that, she had given up on that part of their relationship a long time ago, well… since she had discovered what he was up to. It annoyed her how reckless he was with the goods, swinging his bag around like they weren’t important. 

Raheena hated Khaosan Road. She called it ‘The road of the great unwashed foreigner’: stinky, hippy dreadlock-haired travellers with nothing to do all day but drink beer and watch DVDs and then brag on emails to friends at home about how ‘interesting’  Asia was and how much they were ‘finding’ themselves, when really the only finding they did was to go to the nearest beach with other foreigners to boast about what countries they had all ‘done’  together. She doubted if any of these travellers had actually really spoken with Thais other than just taxi drivers or tour guides.

Three years in Thailand had left Raheena bitter; not particularly about Thais but men in general. She’d had one bad experience after another and wondered why God was dealing her such crap cards. She’d been waiting over an hour for this bloody bus and she was ready to give up and hop in a taxi with or without Michael. She looked around at the fellow passengers who were growing equally as impatient. She spotted the ‘Pattaya Man’ and his Tart straight away. The tart was hung-over and looked like shit and she felt a slight glimmer of smugness as she watched her take deep breaths to try and stop herself from vomiting.

“Oh Jesus” Raheena murmured to herself suddenly. She realized that she recognized the Pattaya Man. John was an old colleague with whom she had worked in Pattaya. He was a crap, unqualified teacher and she didn’t like him one bit. She kept her head low not wanting to get eye contact or do any awkward fake “Hellos”. Luckily John didn’t seem inclined to look up and strike a conversation either. The last time she had spoken to John was when she had vented all her anger at him about her ex, Jake, she had publicly embarrassed John in the staff room and wasn’t the least bit sorry.

“Dirty old perv” she hissed under her breath. She almost wanted to get his attention so that she could abuse him again.  ‘That would be fun’ she thought to herself.

John kept his head down and pretended she was a stranger - he didn’t want to get talking to that Cockney bitch.

When Michael had turned away (smiling at the blonde) and nobody else was looking, Raheena slowly reached into her rucksack for the little blue velvet purse of gems and tucked them inside her bum bag that was firmly attached to her waist. Finally, the mini bus turned up and there was a high pitched holler from an elderly Thai woman screeching for them to get on the bus. She darted on the bus like a bullet, without a second look for Michael. Accidentally she almost knocked over a little boy. Feeling guilty, she patted the boy’s shoulder, smiling around for his mother apologetically and allowing them to clamber on the bus first. The boy was cute and smiley, perhaps about four years old, was mixed Thai and reminded her of so many kids she used to teach. Her natural teacher instinct took over and she began helping the child with his bag. It occurred to her at that moment how much she missed being a teacher.

John was a sixty eight year old retired engineer. Depressed and weary of Grimsby he found sanctuary (like most lonely men) in the bosom of a Thai lady. Having lived in Thailand for a number of years he had no desire to return to his old life, Thailand was his home now. In England he was nothing. Sure, he had friends back in his local pub but his life was empty. He was just a prop on a stool at the end of the bar. Thailand treated him like a king and here in his palace he would remain. Thai women loved him. He found the attention unbelievable at first, he had never been exposed to this life before. Now, after a few years, it was routine to have women flocking to his feet. Everywhere he went ladies would talk to him; young and beautiful women…the kind who only existed in his dreams…were in his life and actually in love with him, he was doing the picking!

He flashed a smile and the girls jumped on cue to the sound of their new cash machine. It was almost a joke how often the bargirls referred to their husbands as ATM machines. No matter how many women had hurt John or milked him for every penny he had, stupidly he went back for more. Deep down, he was looking for love. Somebody to void the empty lost feeling he had had for so long now. Every new woman he hoped would be the one, another Irene… each bargirl, he convinced himself, was different from the last. Meeting Noi on the bus in Chiangmai was a sign; he was sucked in by her pretty face and charming personality. He believed that in time (as always) she would fall in love with him.

Prostitution is not accepted as such in Thailand and so if a ‘bargirl’ wishes to make herself some extra money by privately giving the tourists what they need then that is done without the sanction of the authorities.  Western men can justify their behaviour about sleeping with and ‘dating’ girls night after night as opposed to ‘going with prostitutes’. They can forget it’s prostitution as there are no ‘red light districts’, curb crawling or dodgy back allies. Technically, to these men, it doesn’t feel like they are paying for sex as these girls tell them how much they love them and that they are their ‘girlfriend’. They take them out for dinners, go shopping and the movies etc. as in any other relationships except they pay their ‘bargirl girlfriend’ a monthly salary to not go back to work and to stay with them. You can have anything you want in Thailand be it a wife, a maid, a cook, a nanny, your own personal masseuse…. whatever your heart desires…as long as you pay the price! Just like any other country, prostitutes are always out there and available for anyone who wants to find them.

John immediately spotted the blonde - who wouldn’t? Cautious at first after his recent run-in with Russians he edged his body towards her whilst Noi was in the bathroom. The Russian shifted awkwardly even before John spoke. Feeling his sleazy looks all over her body she pulled nervously at her tiny hot pants hopelessly trying to cover her legs.

“You off t’Airport then are you love?” John asked in a broad Northern accent, raising his eyebrows flirtingly as he spoke, “where ya going?” 

The girl grimaced but answered politely “Phuket”. 

“Oh what a coincidence, that’s where we’re heading, perhaps…err… we might bump into each other there then eh!” he grunted at her. He had all kinds of warped thoughts of threesomes and whatever else his imagination could stretch to that he and Noi could get up to with this sexy Russian.

The girl felt repulsed. Turning away from him she bluntly ended their conversation without making eye contact. Within seconds she had escaped his company and headed to the toilet. John had been blatantly shunned. Embarrassed from the rejection he dropped his head and kept quiet, hoping Raheena hadn’t heard their conversation. She was an uptight gobshite and he didn’t need her laughing at his expense. Raheena had of course noticed and she openly sniggered at his rejection.

“No change there eh John, women running away from you” she said out loud trying to get his attention. John continued to ignore her, keeping his eyes to the floor relieved that he still had Noi at least.   

© Sarah Shivnan. All rights reserved by the author.

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