Delightful Ning in Farangland (5) - Togetherness

Sometimes I feel I failed having her in my house. I had been very decided to lead a normal working life while she’s there - after about two welcoming weeks, that is. Working life sometimes means long hours in the office and very little fun for quite a few days. I wanted to try "normal couple life", if she and me can do it this time, then maybe we can do it a few more decades?

Togetherness

But with Ning in the house, I fall for the easy ways: work a few hours in the morning, and when she calls for lunch I forget the industry. When we lean back on the couch for our after-lunch-cappu, I clearly know the office won't see me back today. Is that the office phone ringing? Heck, let them babble to the answering machine.

I go native in my own country.

Even after all of her three months visit, I can't tell how she would be around me in everyday life. With Ning present, I never manage to lead everyday life. With her, I slip into three months of semi-holidays. See, you run around the house to retrieve that brown tape or green marker pen you left somewhere; what you do find is an Asian lady lying on the carpet with a book - flashing a delicate bronze line of flesh between T-shirt and jeans. How could you return to your dull duties? Screen savers run hot.

Ning never demands any attention though. She expects I have to work always and she is prepared to spend a lot of time with house work, garden work or English books. Still I see she wouldn't like me to read my usual dose of newspapers and books during breakfasts, lunches and dinners; she would feel ignored and neglected, even though we rarely get into a discussion over lunch.

But while she maybe is too silent and maybe has too little general interests, of course I am thankful that she is not talkative or missionary. Only once or twice she gets into a talking mood, that is when she recalls happy times with her family. But it is actually difficult to find out more about her past or about her solo shopping trips to the district capital. She never forces her stories onto me. Silence is a real option with her, how I enjoy that - of course silence with a reassuring smile now and then.

Before Ning's advent, I used to listen to news radio while preparing my food. Now with Ning, when she allows me to help in the kitchen, I am shy to turn on news radio, she wouldn't understand one word. All in all, I am cut off my usual news supply through paper and airwaves. I end up checking the news on the internet before we meet for lunch. I even feel kind of clandestine when I flick through my radio station's news site. Stupid, but when I'm in the house outside the office, I want to be with her quickly; and when we are together, I don't want to turn on a radio or read something. Or maybe I want, sometimes, but I am shy to do so.

Reading before falling asleep is another of my favorites. This never happens as long as Ning is in the house. It might even be ok for her, I guess. Both of us do have no illusions that we should only cling to each other every day and night and that we should be like fresh lovers every night. Still I can't manage myself into more independence and time for myself. It is my problem, not hers.

Sometimes when I run around the house to look for something, tape or pen, I see my lady lying on the floor with books and magazines around her - sleeping. I have even ordered half a ton of mail order catalogues with ladies dresses, by her request; she likes to leaf through them, but never orders something even though she could.

But there she sleeps between all her printed matters. She can say "I am not tired, but I can sleep" - and snooze off in a minute. It is a sad sight. I feel she waits too much for me. I don't want this situation, and she doesn't want it either. One time in her country she had told me: "Only stay with boyfriend - too boring. I want my own business." I would be most happy if she can take up responsibility somewhere here. So what could she do? I ponder to ask the Asia store man if he needs a helping hand. Or maybe the Thirld World shop in the district capital wants an authentic Thirld World inhabitant to show off? I know from Asia she has a talent for points of sale and shop design. But in all of her stay, she never picks up more than seven words of my language. Thus, she could not even work in a restaurant kitchen, I guess. Cleaning work in family homes might be available for her; but I I simply don't want to see her on that track as long as she does not explicitly demand it. All kind of work would be illegal, of course.

On the other hand, she might simply enjoy her holiday. She has spent a life full of hard work, mostly to support her family, with little pleasures. I feel she has deserved a time out in Europe, and I am happy to comfort her. But then I think I don't want to make it all that easy for her. Should she come back next year, I might ask her to pay ten percent of the airplane ticket; I want to see if she is serious enough about me and the trip to sacrifice one hundred dollars or so.

Just when I ponder this, she says: "Should I come back next year, you have to pay me some compensation for my time in Europe. In your country, I cannot earn money to support my father and family. I lose money when I stay here."

Quarrels

Yes, it is my own fault. I have planned things for her she doesn't like, and now I am angry.

There are many nice daytrip destinations around my place. But when I go out alone or with friends, we mostly visit the same places. With Ning ante portas, I expected to discover my own area fully in her company, thinking she would like touristing around more than anything else. Just like me in her country. I had collected a ton of information about my area: Many nice illustrated brochures and trip guides for her to choose from.

But she didn't want to explore. I was shocked.

I remember two serious quarrels, I mean when the atmosphere was thick more than two hours.

One time I want to go to a different town to buy something, and on that trip we can explore a few sights around the area. But she says she doesn't like to go - I should go alone, she would stay at home. Suddenly I don't want to go anymore, I feel deeply disappointed for her general lack of interest. I don't remember the revealing fact that I know many more places in Thailand than she herself, and it is not because I have more money to travel.

Ridiculous in my dependency on her, I try to convince her to go with me, the trip seems devaluated without her. But while mostly she does everything to see me content, this time she locks up completely. Finally I open the door to go out for a shortened version of the trip I had been looking for.

Only then I hear her calling from the living room: "Wait, I want to go with you!"

Too late, stupid girl: "NO", I yell back and storm off.

When I come back it is still tense. Only late at night we both feel it would be stupid to play angry, whilst everything could be much more pleasant. In bed, she cuddles close and whispers: "You know, this morning, when you say 'NO' to me so strong, I like that very much. So strong!" One more Asian girl who likes a father figure. She smiles with delight. She means it.

The other quarrel is even more bizarre. I have bought a used mobile phone and a prepaid SIM card for her. When she cycles to the district capital alone to buy fish, chili and other daily essentials, I drop the cell phone into her shopping bag. But she refuses to take it!

I argue: "Dear, maybe you have a bicycle accident, maybe you get lost, maybe police stops you - anything can happen, and with the mobile phone, you can call me and I will be there in 10 minutes."

She doesn't want to: "No need!"

I don't know why I insist so much, but I also don't know why she refuses so much - this time she storms off and stays out really long. When I finally hear her key in the door, I do not go to welcome her - difficult as it is, I manage to stay buried in the house. She does not come to say hello either. No special souvenir for me. Again, reunion does not come before bedtime.

"Today I think maybe you send me home", she whispers in my arms while we drift off to lala land: "And if you say I must go, I will go."

Until today I am not sure why these quarrels had to happen. It was not because she wanted time alone in the house. She was alone in the house often enough anyway.

Forbidden Fruit

We walk through the forest. She stops suddenly and jumps into an obscure bush. What is this? My Asian lady has found a bush full of unknown berries, and she will eat all of them here and now! From our walks in her country I already know that she has the eye - and the lust - to find mangoes on the moon.

In Asia, can you eat anything that hangs colourfully down the bush? I my country you clearly can not. I know we have some berries that are ok for the birds, but nasty for a human stomach, but I can't identify them. I beg Ning NOT to eat those wild fruits. She keeps picking and delays the actual feast for a few seconds just to clear out my objections. She can't believe that I don't like her to eat those berries. She looks at me like a little girl who gets stupid orders from a dull auntie.

I manage to drag her away from the forbidden fruits. She looks like "oh, I will come back here solo, and then I swallow them all". Maybe she has already munched those berries off another bush on a previous solo walk.

Shortly after that, we walk through the local produce market.

She stops suddenly and points firmly to a heap of fruit at one stall: "What is this? Delicious, no?"

"Dear, these are cherries, you don't know them? We buy 100 gram and you try if you like them."

The fruit lady notes her interest and gestures her to try the cherries. Ning descends onto the unknown fruit like an eagle onto a rabbit, and she is most delighted! Not a bad investment for the market lady: We walk off with a bag of 500 grams of cherries.

After this, whenever I come back from solo trips, I always remember to bring home a few 100 grams of cherries for Ning. She likes this gesture as much as the fruit. We experiment with putting cherries into yoghurt, ice cream or whipped cream.

Sure! Can!

We've been walking silently through the fields for more than an hour. I am a bit tired now, and I guess she is, too. There have been a few invitingly convenient banks. But I walk on, because my favourite bank is yet to come around the next bend. I think it is not an obviously more beautiful place than the other banks, still it is my favourite, special place. When we reach this bank I ask Ning if she likes a break. "Oh yes!" I have not told her that this is my personal favourite place. She looks around her and beams: "Here very nice! When you must work, I come back here to read and sit down."

We've been cycling along the river for more than an hour. I feel a bit tired now, and I guess she feels tired, too. There have been a few peaceful river banks to sit down. But I cycle on, because my favourite river beach is yet to come around the next bend. I think it is not obviously more beautiful than the other river beaches, still it is my favourite, special place. When we reach this beach I ask Ning if she likes a break. "Oh yes!" She sits down, sighs, grabs for the water bottle, looks around her and beams: "Here very nice. I can come back here alone when you must work!"

So we hang out on this river beach for quite a while. I ask if it is ok for her if I flick through the local newspaper I had smuggled into our bag. "Sure! Can! Please you read, I just relax!" I tell her that a local celebrity died in a nasty car crash. She wants to see the horrible picture of the destroyed vehicle. Then she wants to see the picture of the dead man. I say we don't have pictures like this in the paper. She cannot understand that corpses are not in the newspaper. I ask her why she wants to see a torn corpse. She cannot tell, and I cannot understand her request.

In the local paper I read about a cabaret evening - tonight in the district capital. It is just local talent on stage, and it might be anything from bizarre to awkward to entertaining for me; it might be anything from boring to disgusting for Ning. So at first I don’t dare to ask her if we should go. I know anyway she doesn't like to go to venues with many people, and she wouldn't understand one word. I know she has bought chicken and veggies for a nice dinner, and she likes to pamper me with her cooking. Still, now I lie on this riverside beach with her, and I know we could make it to the show in time if we hop on the bicycles soon.

"Ning...?"

I worry it is a bad turn for her. She would prefer a homey night with self-prepared dinner and her man. But then, sometimes I do have to get out of our golden cage, I do have to see something else, I do have to inhale new ideas, especially cynical, ironical, crazy, skewed ideas, away from our idyllic comfy bourgeois togetherness. I ask her if we could go to see the cabaret without believing she likes it.

"Sure! Can! We go!" she says most positively! She nods at me affirmatively as if I had to make an important decision in my life, and she wants to support this.

I remind her: "But then we can't do the dinner you had bought, and we will cycle home in the black night. Ok for you?"

"Sure! Can! Food ok tomorrow, too, no problem!" She is so positive! So many times if feel her strong support, and it really carries me on. Ten minutes later we pedal towards the district capital.

Another time I want to see a football match. I feel most guilty, because once I had a Farang girlfriend who clearly knew that watching football is not politically correct, and her displeasure about broadcasted football steamed out full-on. (I like to watch about two matches per year.) So I am most careful and wary when I ask Ning if it is ok for her if I do watch a match on TV. Will she despise me for my bloody passive male football-watching misbehaviour?

"Sure! Can! You watch football, why not, up to you!" she goes!

It really seems no problem for her! Again there is her very affirmative, positive look - as if I were doing something great.

Ning: "But who is playing?"

"Real Madrid versus an Italian team."

"Oh, I see. Well, I like more the one in red shirt; Manchester United, no?"