Older Brother

My big brother left home when I was very young.

After finishing school, he left to find a job in Bangkok. He found work at a factory. He fell in love with a lady who worked there. Later he married her and had two babies.

I rarely saw them because mother did not take me to visit them.

The first time I came to Bangkok, it was to see my big brother. My mother and I travelled from the Sisaket station to Bangkok by train. The journey took almost ten hours.

We bought third class tickets for the train. Sometimes the seats were full and we had to sit on the floor. It was very hot and crowded with people selling things all the time. The train stopped at every station. My mother held onto me all the way.

When we got to Bangkok the first time, we took a tuk tuk to my brother’s place. He and his wife lived in a small room at the factory. Not long afterwards they quit their jobs and came home to stay with us.

For a few months, they stayed in our house. Then they moved to grandma’s farm and worked in her big rice fields. (Actually they didn’t like my father.)

He and his family lived with grandma for two years, then returned to work at the same factory in Bangkok.

They worked there for thirty years. Then one day his wife found another man.

The family was broken. He got a divorce and gave the house to the wife and children. He quit his job and had nowhere to go. He felt very bad and decided to go home.

At the train station a stranger came up and offered him a job on a boat. He worked there for a long time. But he never got paid! This was not legal.

The police were looking for boats like these.They took my brother off the boat and arrested the captain.

After that my family lost contact with him — for four years. Now he lives in Lampang Province. I saw him last year. Me and my brother are not close. However, he is a good person.

Father

My father was born into a middle class family and he lived in a village near my mother. He was the eldest son. He had one brother and one sister.

My father was a Thai boxer. He boxed in different provinces and also in neighboring countries. Every time he traveled he was gone for two or three months or more.

While my father was away my mother stayed home, took care of the baby, and worked.

My father knew many people when he was a boxer. Some liked him, but some did not.

One day he was stabbed in the stomach. After that, my father couldn’t go back to boxing, and could not do hard work.

He started drinking more than before.

He was also a playboy. One time he took a lady home with him and told my mother this was his other wife. My mother was deeply hurt. She didn’t accept them being together, so he and the lady left. He did not come back home for a couple of months.

Father had many ladies because he was charming and seemed like a nice man. After he won a fight, he would throw a celebration party. He was a good fighter and loved the sport.

My father was very nice and kind to people, but not to my family. He was ok when he did not drink, but when he drank he became another person.

When he got drunk, I had to hide or run away from him.

I sometimes would climb up a tamarind tree, because I knew he could never get me.

There was never any peace in our family.

It was often me and mom crying together. And I looked up at the sky and asked, “Why do I have a father like him?” and many more questions. I never got an answer.

I would dream of getting a higher education so I could get a good job and save money to buy a house. Get my mom out of there.

I liked to go into the forest with my mom, where it was quiet and peaceful, to get away from my father.

But I have forgiven my Father. I still love him.

Childhood

This is my life story.

I am from Sisuket, near the Cambodian border. This is in the northeast part of Thailand, known as the Isaan region. The area has many plateaus and mountains. There are twenty provinces where people speak the Isaan language

I was born into a poor family. I had two brothers and two sisters.

My mother got married to my father when she was 14 years old and dad was 19.

This marriage happened because grandma thought my father was a good man and could make her daughter happy. My mother obeyed.

She became a very good mother. She took good care of her babies and was the leader of our family. But her life was very hard. She worked like a man. I never saw her happy.

Everyday we had to find something to eat. We did not have money to buy food. Sometimes we went into the forest to find mushrooms, or anything else we could eat.

I didn’t have time to play like other children.

When the planting season came, I helped my mother grow rice. I had to work in the sun all day. From our home to the rice field, it was 5 kilometers.

Mother had to wake up early every day — me too. We had to walk all the way there.

Only my mother and I worked because most of the time my father was drunk. When he drank, we had problems — he liked to hurt my mother and me.

I hated him. When he beat me, my mother always tried to protect me.

Often, my mother took me to stay at grandma’s because my father had kicked us out of the house. I was always happy to see grandma and my cousin. I could play with him.

My grandmother lived in another town. She had four children: three girls and one boy. My mother was the eldest child. One grandson lived with her. She took care of him while his mother worked in Bangkok and sent money home.

Grandma had a big rice field. When we left her place, she always gave us two large bags of rice. We were always sad to leave.

We travelled between our house and grandma’s by bus. The journey took almost all day.

But I liked riding the bus. We would get on and try to find two empty seats so we could sit together. If there was time, my mother would go back out to buy some water and boiled eggs for us to eat. She knew I liked eggs — and sitting by the window!

When we got back home, my father would be standing there waiting for us. He smiled and seemed to be happy to see us. But after a few days, he started drinking again.

Our house had two floors and was built from wood. We lived on the second floor and had two buffaloes on the first floor.

Every morning we would take the animals out of the house. Then we had to find a place where there was a lot of grass and a tree. We tied the buffaloes to the tree so they could feed. We gave them water at midday, and took them back home in the evening.

I liked my buffaloes. Sometimes they let me ride one of them, but my mother always warned me to be careful.

Because our family was poor, everyone had to leave home after they finished school and find a job, just like me. My big brother and big sister moved to Bangkok.

My younger sister was nice and kind. She was married and her family lived in the same village as us.

After she had her first baby, her husband changed. He began sleeping with other ladies and not taking care of his family. He broke my sister’s heart.

So she divorced him.

Later, she met another man and they decided to live together. He was very good to my sister, but they were poor and had to work hard.

She had three children with him.

I remember he was good-hearted and helped me when I had a problem. He died when I was fifteen.

My younger brother was also good-hearted and a very quiet person. He was six years older than me. He protected me at school when another friend bullied me.

After he finished school he left home, and got a job in Bangkok.

He is still single.

Stopping The Support

In early July, I emailed five of the Thai ladies I had been helping, telling them the August money would be the last. There was no easy way of doing this. Though the country was now “open”, the economy remained in the doldrums and Omicron was still making the rounds — as I was to discover all too soon. I simply felt that after over two years, it was time to wrap this up.

The reactions were mixed. My favorite barmaids, Sumontha and Sirada, already having jobs, seemed OK with my decision. However Porn, my former masseuse, came down with Covid in September. I extended her another month.

That left Bia and Gae, both of whom have three kids. I managed to meet with Bia and heard that things remained bad for her (though she did not ask for more help). So, I ended up paying four more months, to the end of the year, plus some extra money for New Year’s. Will things ever turn around here?

Gae was a harder case. Once my “program” ended, she would send emails at the beginning of each month attempting to keep my interest. Sensing a measure of desperation, I also put her on an end-of-the-year plan, complete with the New Year’s gift. But I was not comfortable with the situation, feeling the beginnings of a long term commitment. When she explained that without my payments she and her children would be forced to return to Myanmar, I understood her persistence.

What to do? Obviously I am concerned about Gae’s plight, but also feel it is beyond the scope of my mission. A second “no more money” email has been sent – just to officially notify her. Come early January, she will no doubt be after me to keep things going. This may not turn out well. I have no interest in being her boyfriend, as she so clearly wants. I am just someone who got some Thai women through a very difficult time.

A final word – from Porn:

Hi Monte 
Thank you so much for money you will give me for one more 
month and for everything you had done for me 
Thank you very much again for helping me out all this time 
You are still my good man and if you come back to Thailand 
and then if you like I do some thing for you and then you still 
can tell me all the time and if I can do for you and then I 
will do that 
 
You are still my good man and my good friend always 
Take good care of yourself 
You are always in my mind 
Big hug big kiss 
Porn

I Come Down With It

Sunday, July 17. I awoke with a load of “solid” congestion, usually a harbinger of bad things. Not quite convinced I was sick, I decided to wait and see what, if anything, would happen.

The answer came the following day, a day of endless sneezing. Using one of the Covid test kits I had brought from America (involving a seven step process), I was soon looking at the dreaded “red” reading, making my illness official.

I had gotten the Omicron.

My first thought was how I could have caught it. I’d diligently worn my mask when going out and had had minimal contact with anyone outside of my cleaning lady. Later I realized all it would have taken was for me to touch a contaminated surface and not properly wash my hands when I got home — something I’d stopped doing.

Whenever I end up with a cold or flu, the first order of business is getting stocked up on supplies. That night I did FaceTime with one of my special friends and explained what had happened and what I needed. The next day she delivered the provisions: milk, plenty of water, fruit, Tylenol, a thermometer (her idea), and a few other items. Kindness. By this time I was enduring the usual flu miseries of coughing, a plugged nose and loss of taste. My Vitamin ‘C’ and NyQuil were being put to good use.

But then a funny thing happened. Three days after the first symptoms, the congestion and sneezing were more or less gone. Come evening I felt well enough to exercise. This was not a fluke — my condition continued to improve. Towards the end of the week I had recovered my sense of smell and taste (not major concerns considering what a lousy cook I am) with only scattered coughing spells. Best yet, I no longer was running a fever!

Unfortunately, the Omicron was not through with me. For the rest of the month I was still on occasion coughing and a-chooing. In fact, it was three weeks before the cough finally broke. More of an annoyance than anything. Next time I will stick with the extra water and Vitamin ‘C’ longer.

So why was this attack so mild? Obviously the Omicron variant is not the killer its predecessors had been. But I ended up suffering less than the usual colds I’ve caught here in Thailand. The answer is that while in the U.S., I had gotten an initial shot, then two boosters. Just as the health experts recommended. Being sixty-five years old, it would have been plain stupid to do anything less.

And the truth shall quarantine

Leaving The U.S.

I celebrated my 65th birthday (April 6 of this year) at my brother Mark’s home in Frisco, Texas, a busy suburb of Dallas. It was the beginning of a three week stay. The year before our youngest brother had died, leaving the two of us as the only remaining family. Though neither of us had any serious health issues, there was a feeling we should try and spend some extended time together while we had the opportunity. Losing a sibling is a jarring reminder of one’s own mortality. The future ceases to be a sure bet.

With Mark working (from home), our quality time began at dinner. We’d open an exotic bottle of wine for the meal (his wife would pass), then often finish it outside on the patio by the pool. If it was the weekend, a second bottle came into play. Our visits to the “local” wine warehouse meant we often had French and Italian vintages selected by my brother along with the Pinot Noirs I have come to enjoy. (Especially if they are from Oregon!👍)

Since I was not especially busy while I was down there, we decided to tackle a longstanding family project: uploading selected photos from the thousands our parents, and especially our grandmother, had taken while we were growing up. There were almost twenty trays of slides plus smaller collections that all needed to be looked at. Using a digital film scanner, I spent some four weeks going through them, choosing ones that featured interesting people shots instead of places. When finished, I uploaded the information to Google Drive. Whew! (I am sure grandma was looking down with approval.)

I ended up staying with my brother for over a month. Towards the end I got some very good news: Effective May 1st, Thailand Immigration would be relaxing its entry requirements!! I would still need to register through the Thailand Pass website, but only had to provide a few pieces of information. I took care of this on the third, and it was approved the next day.

I was lucky. My Retirement Visa needed to be renewed by June 7th. If Immigration had waited another month, there would not have been time to take care of this. The Siam chapter of my life would have come to a close. But now I had two weeks to say goodbye to Mark, make a stop in Seattle to get my things, and shove off.

I flew out of SeaTac on May 15th, arriving in Bangkok — and clearing Customs with no problem — the following day. Soon after that I was settling into an apartment and two weeks later had my visa renewed.

After half a year of being stranded in the U.S. because of Covid, a new start.

Family Heirlooms

Leaving Everett

“It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter.”
Here Comes the Sun — George Harrison

I was now entering the seventh month of living in Everett, Washington, having been exiled there by the virus. The news from Thailand continued to be discouraging: Immigration would relax its entry requirements only to have yet another another variant wave come crashing through, forcing them to backtrack. Things seemed to change almost on a weekly basis. Making any plans was like trying to hit a moving target. Forget it.

Over the winter I’d been in touch with my younger brother Mark down in Dallas. We had made tentative plans to try and get together for first Thanksgiving, then Christmas, only to be thwarted by the latest version of the virus. (I also must confess I didn’t savor mingling with the holiday crowds at the airport. Just asking for trouble.)

It was March before we were able to finally connect. The Omicron variant was not proving to be as lethal and the number of infections had noticeably dropped. Mark therefore suggested I fly down for my birthday in early April. Eager to be away from the chilly weather, I wasted no time booking a flight.

This raised the question of whether I should keep my hotel room. My inclination was to go to Dallas for just a couple of weeks like I usually do, so I’d need a place to come back to. But Mark told me he had an extra bedroom and I was welcome to stay for as long as I wished. I didn’t need much encouragement. It would be sunny and warm down there with great food and excellent wines (my brother, like my friend Gail, knows his way around a wine store). A more than welcome change.

I checked out on April 5. It was a cold, windy and thoroughly unpleasant morning. I shivered as I waited outside for the cab to the airport. This would be not so much a departure as another one of my escapes.

I never returned to the hotel.

We have always been close.

Eternal Waiting

November, 2021. I’d been twiddling my thumbs in a hotel in Everett, Washington coming up on two months, waiting to get back to Thailand. The constantly mutating Coronavirus had made overseas travel in turn impossible, dangerous, then very difficult. Nor was Thai Immigration very accomodating with their new Thailand Pass program. One went out to a website and had to enter a plethora of information such as proof of vaccination and insurance, proof of a negative Covid test within three days of departure, and a signed note from your maternal grandmother attesting to your good health. Oh, and also an attached reservation at one of the approved Bangkok hotels, where you were expected to reside for at least three nights.

All the hoops to jump through made me decide to forget trying to get into the country until the Covid threat receded (and heaven knew how long that would take). Reluctantly, I extend my stay at the hotel, resigning myself to the dubious pleasures of a gloomy Pacific Northwest winter.

“Here comes that rainy day feeling again.”
The Fortunes

It wasn’t like it rained every day during the time I was marooned in Everett enduring the clouds and darkness; it just seemed that way. To try and keep my spirits up, I took long walks on a bike trail near the hotel (carrying an umbrella, of course). I also had my friends Gail and Steve. I’d stop over at their house on a Thursday or Sunday and watch an NFL game with Steve, usually the Seahawks, who got in the habit of letting contests slip away in the second half. Later the expansion Seattle Kraken began their first season. Steve is Canadian, meaning hockey is practically a religion and with him explaining the rules (e.g. icing), I eventually became an honest-to-goodness fan. I don’t know if this would qualify me for citizenship should I someday wish to live in, say, Edmonton, but it could not hurt.

As for the virus, masks remained a requirement in any public building, Washington being a “blue” state. Nobody seemed to be upset about it, and I never got sick. The only thing that had me scratching my head was a public service announcement on one of the local channels that urged all Washingtonians to continue wearing masks to protect those “who could not get vaccinated”. What did they mean by that? Were some people being held hostage by anti-vaxers? I had been able to get my original and followup shots with no trouble.

Aside from my friends and afternoon walks, there wasn’t much else to do during my sojourn. The short days congealed into a grey blur as I killed time waiting for better news from the Land of Smiles. My laptop being elsewhere, I had to rely on the hotel’s cable network for entertainment. This meant I saw many movies — multiple times. If you ever want to know anything about the characters in the Aussie film The Dry, just ask me.

It snowed three times around Christmas and in January. I had not seen the white stuff for many years, snow being somewhat scarce in Bangkok, and got a thrill being outside in it. That is, until I had to struggle my way to and from the grocery store, which caused the novelty to wear off somewhat.

And so the months slowly passed… At no time did I consider throwing in the towel, just saying the hell with it all and settling down in the U.S. I wanted the life I had back.

It wasn’t quite this bad…

Into Autumn

I got my shot the same day I flew into SeaTac airport at the end of July. It was at one of those all-purpose drug stores which offer pharmacy and health services amidst aisles stocked with junk food. All I had to do was walk in, make an appointment, then show up at the anointed hour. As I mentioned, I elected to go with the Johnson & Johnson vaccine to avoid having to get a second poke in the arm.

For next ten to fourteen days, until the J & J became effective, I tried to keep my distance from people, especially the ones using mass transit. I always wore a mask, something that has never been an issue with me — unlike many of my fellow Americans. Nor did the constraints prevent me from going about the usual tasks that accompany my arrival in the Emerald City: Visiting my storage unit to swap wardrobes, seeing the dentist, and spending special time with old friends. Not anything out of the ordinary, though I decided to forego the annual Amtrak ride down to Corvallis, Oregon. Did not want to be sitting next to someone for over five hours.

Nevertheless, I did end up doing some traveling, flying out from Seattle to my home state of Iowa for family obligations in August. I also hooked up with a high school friend I always see and we drove around the old home town, saying hello to a couple classmates and reminiscing about lost loves.

The highlight of my time in the Hawkeye State was a family reunion in Des Moines with nine cousins from my father’s side of the family, many of whom I had not seen in over twenty years. They are by and large a gregarious bunch and it was a real delight catching up. All of us have fond memories of spending summers together on our grandparent’s farm and we ended up recounting often hilarious stories about our grandfather.

I was back in Seattle by mid-September and booked a reservation at an Extended Stay America Hotel in the city of Everett, some thirty miles north. This would serve as my base while I waited for Thailand to relax its Covid entry restrictions. It was a mile and a half from the home of a pair of friends, Gail and her husband Steve. (Gail and I go back over thirty-five years.) Two or three times a week I would make the long trek over to see them. We watched a lot of American football, munching on cheddar cheese and popcorn, often with an Oregon Pinot Noir (Gail is wine connoisseur.)

A couple years ago, I had loaned my ancient Celestron telescope to the couple, allowing Gail (who shares my love of the night sky) to do some occasional viewings. Now I was able to join her, spending the cool, late summer nights on her back deck taking in the moon and other sights. There was some extra work needed to get the scope set up and properly aligned (with Steve doing the heavy lifting), then re-learn how to first locate, then track the planets. But it was all a labor of love, especially when we were able to identify Jupiter’s four Galilean satellites, then find faint Titan — the largest moon of the ringed planet.

Since stargazing is one of my passions, I did not find myself missing Thailand. This was a refreshing change from my overseas life and the two of us tried to get out anytime the sky was clear — all the way to Halloween. Then the winter rains began moving in… But I was not concerned. With the tourist season fast approaching, the Thais would surely be opening up their country for business: Come one, come all, and don’t forget your wallets! I figured I’d be resettled in a comfy Bangkok apartment by Christmas at the latest.

Yeah, right.

Be it ever so humble…

Escape From BKK

In a little over a fortnight, I will be returning to America for my annual getaway. It’s been two years since the last one and I am really looking forward to being in a country that is not being ravaged by Covid-19. The first order of business will of course be getting vaccinated, preferably with the single shot Johnson & Johnson. I am doing this in the U.S. as I have more confidence in their vaccines and should not have to wait in line. (All my Thai friends, in contrast, are talking about appointments starting in August, presumably using Sinovac. They have my sympathy.)

As for the seven Thai women I’ve been helping on a monthly basis (one has dropped off the radar), each has been provided with seven month’s worth of support, through January of next year. Hopefully by that time most of the population will be inoculated and the economy in better shape. (But don’t hold your breath!)

There are also three others I’ve supplied modest, as-needed amounts to. They all have jobs (more or less) and are not as destitute.

As one might guess, this latest round of assistance has drained a large portion of my charity money. However, with the virus variant causing record numbers of infections and deaths in this country, I simply could not fly off and leave my friends to their fate.

For over a year, it’s like I’ve been playing poker with Covid-19. Initially, I had planned on only a few months of helping others. Then the virus upped the ante, continuing to stick around and forcing me to extend my obligations. It became a high stakes contest, but I have stubbornly stayed in the game: “I’ll see your six months and raise you seven. F*ck you!”.