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!”.


I shall return.

‘Tis The Season

For my Covid-19 support this month, I included some extra money so the girls could go home and be with their families for New Year’s Day.

I also gave some help to Wan, an acquaintance I have not been in touch with for awhile. In fact, I cannot find her email or phone. But I do have her bank account number (!) and knew the gift would be appreciated by her and her three children.

All of the above was done on the morning of December 25th.

From A Christmas Carol:
“We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is
keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices.”

Happy Holidays!

Laundry Money

Last month, my friend Wan confessed that with business so slow because of the lack of tourists, she might have to shut down her laundromat. She had been drawing on her bank account to get by and it was now seriously depleted.

Unlike the other women I have been sustaining, this was a problem that affected me. Wan has been doing my laundry for years and I’ve never had reason to complain. My clothes were always ready the next day, nicely pressed, the socks perfectly matched. The thought of this reliable service having to close was almost too sad to contemplate.

Anyone who has been following this blog can guess what I did next. But not right away; I was fiscally constrained, having had to keep a barn load of money in my bank account for three months from early June in order to renew my Retirement Visa in 2021 (an Immigration requirement β€” you don’t want to know any more). But with September lurking around the corner some of those funds would soon be freed up, allowing me to be more generous, starting with Wan.

I stopped by the laundromat last week to pass on the good news, that I would be providing special help for my special friend. I was startled by the reaction. Fastening me in a tight embrace, Wan began crying, almost sobbing. It was a sign of how much stress she had been under, struggling every day trying to keep things going. I’d never had a Thai woman break down like this. Not knowing what to say, I simply let her hug me, pinning my arms, until the tears began to subside.

When the day came to perform the good deed, I wasn’t sure how much was needed for Wan to get by for another four or five months. (I doubt the local economy will be any better before then.) I gave it my best guess while impressing upon her the time frame I was trying to cover. We will see if this is enough. She is a good businesswoman, so nothing will be wasted.

Now sleeping better at night.

Related Posts You May Enjoy
It’s Wan’s Birthday!


A few days ago, I received an interesting email from my masseuse, Pam. She has been giving some serious thought about her future and has come up with a possible new direction. Here’s what she said:

“Yesterday I went to apply for a sewing class and I will start sewing lessons on the 1st of the next month for two months β€” October and November.

I make the decision learn sewing because it was during the Covid-19 virus outbreak and it is hard to find work. So I decided to go to learn sewing for the future. I will have the knowledge and when I have finish learn and then I hope it will be easier to find a job.

I thank you very much that you have keep sent me money every month. You had help me very much and I hope you will continue to support me the same you help me every month during I have learn sowing please. Thank you very much again.”

In other words, she wants me to keep helping out during the two months she is learning the finer points of embroidering. Not a problem. I admire people who are trying to improve their lives and quickly responded that I would support her for four more months, through the holidays and into January. I even volunteered to pay for the class (which is expensive by Thai standards).

Pam was very appreciative.

Now, maybe this idea will work out, maybe not. There are of course no guarantees, especially in this country. But I’m proud of Pam regardless.

Knit One, Purl One…

In Appreciation

Since April I have been providing monthly support to various female Thai friends to cushion the hardships brought about by the pandemic. The original plan was to help out for three months, but it doesn’t look like the economy here will be recovering anytime soon. So, I will be extending my little program through the end of the year. Maybe by that time the troubles will have receded.

One of the surprises of the charity work I’m doing has been the reactions. I don’t think any of the women have ever experienced this kind of no-strings-attached generosity and their thanks have been heartfelt, showing me a side of them I would never have encountered otherwise:

“How are you? Do you have anything (for me) to help or do?
Call me. I’m always happy.”

“Thank you so much. I will not forget you…
You are my good man and are always in my mind.”

“If you sick you call me ok”

“Thank you very much for your help.
I’m in trouble for money now you are so kind for me.
Hope to see you soon.”

“Thank you about money. You are good friend for me…
I wish you good luck in everything. And be healthy.”

I also receive occasional pictures. One of my friends has a fondness for scenes showing a full moon over the ocean, which I enjoy as well.

“Good night have a sweet dream and sleep well tonight 😘 πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ’‹πŸ’‹πŸ’‹πŸ’‹πŸ’‹πŸŒ·πŸŒ·for you”

It’s nice to know others are thinking of you.

Empty Establishments

The bars in my neck of the woods (Soi 4 and Soi 7) are officially back in business. However, with the country still closed due to virus concerns, there are no thirsty tourists around, just the occasional decrepit retiree wanting a couple beers and maybe a few games of pool. Not someone the cash-starved freelancers, most of whom have pawned all their valuables over the past three months, have much use for.

As for the bar employees, in many places they are not yet getting paid, having to instead rely on meager tips from the rare customer. I guess this is better than sitting at home with no money at all coming in, but only barely. One of my barmaid friends hardly comes to work at all, choosing to spend her time looking for a better situation. So far she has not had any luck.

The afternoons are the worst here. I took an extended stroll a few days ago down both of the Sois and saw only a handful of foreigners. At my beloved Beer Garden (which has managed to re-open without my help), I was the only Westerner for most of the two hours I was there. This did make me the center of attention for a half dozen ladies β€” definitely a buyers market β€” but I only chatted with a couple friends and then went home. It was all a little sad, and this was one of the better locales; other places I passed by were the bar equivalent of ghost towns.

Looks like it’s going to be a lonely next few months.

Social Outlets

My morning begins with a texted weather report from Joy, telling me how hot and sunny it is. She also asks if I have eaten yet and admonishes me to take care of myself. A kind of mothering, but with good intentions. I respond by wishing her a nice day, or something along those lines.

I like Joy. She only asks for occasional help such as for rent or special purchases, the most recent being medicine her doctor prescribed. She’s also been doing some job hunting, visiting large restaurants to see if they will be needing staff as businesses begin opening up next month. I hope she finds something.

My masseuse, Porn, texts me during the day every week or two, wanting to know when she should stop by for the at-home massage and what kind of food to bring for my dinner. This a routine that began on my birthday back in April and has continued for almost three months. Being a rather lazy cook, I appreciate having some variety in my diet. As I age, I’ll no doubt be needing this kind of service more often.

With Porn not being a prodigious texter, I call her on occasion, just to see if she is doing ok.

Bia is shyer than the others. If she needs assistance, she will not ask directly. Instead she will say she misses me (true enough). I then inquire if she needs money, which is always the case. In fact, I just sent her some yesterday. Bia has travelled back to Bangkok from her home in the provinces and, like Joy, is looking for work. But her finances were at a low ebb and required a boost from me.

Even without the troubles brought about by the virus, Sarankorn would be having a rough year. Her sister died back in February and her father passed away early this month (I paid for his funeral). Anticipating she might appreciate having someone to talk to, I told her to communicate via Apple Messages. When at home I am almost always on my laptop, so anything from her using this app will instantly pop up on my screen, allowing me to respond right away. We also do FaceTime sessions every couple of days, usually just after I have had dinner. It’s a wonderful way to interact during these stay-at-home times.

My friend Tui ended up confined to her tiny apartment on Soi 71 for April and May. Knowing she was there alone, watching Tom Cruise movies on the internet, I started doing regular FaceTime meetings with her as well. Because her English is excellent and sense of humor on the same wavelength as mine, I used these evening engagements to entertain her. It became a comedy routine and at times I had her in tears. A nice break from the Mission Impossible flicks (which all look the same to me).

Tui managed to return to her village a few weeks ago and is busy taking care of her daughter (school starts up again this week), cleaning around the house, and working in her garden. Although the future remains uncertain because of the fallout from the virus, whenever I contact her she is always in good spirits.

Be it ever so humble…

A Rescue Request

Yesterday afternoon, I received a call from Sirada. She and Sumontha were the two barmaids I’d been helping out ever since the Beer Garden bar had closed three months ago. They, along with some of the other staff, were now back there doing some cleaning up and with that almost finished, would like to come visit me. I told them to come on over, not realizing the surprise I was in for.

When they arrived, we sat at an outdoors table and spent time catching up on our mundane stay-at-home lives. It was great to see them and I expected they were going to tell me that the bar would soon be back in business.

Well, not quite. One of their managers (whom I will call Mr. M) is indeed interested in getting things going again, but there’s this tiny obstacle: to renew the lease, he needs to come up with 1,400,000 baht, of which he only has a million. The girls therefore wanted to know if I’d be able to lend them 200,000 baht each ($6,500) to make up the difference. I would be repaid in a few months after Mr M’s bank loan comes through. In the meantime, the girls would get their old jobs back, the customers would surely return, and all would be right with the world β€” or at least that part of it on Soi 7.

This rosy scenario was not going to happen. I’d recently extended my Retirement Visa, which requires maintaining a very high balance in my bank account through early September, leaving me with limited liquidity. No way could I come up with the amounts they were asking for. Sirada and Sumontha readily accepted this explanation and did not push the issue. (In fact, the pair were almost apologetic in making the request in the first place.)

The other concern, which I did not share, was my uneasiness with the whole idea. This was a business proposition with no paperwork such as, say, a repayment schedule. For Mr M to imagine I would hand over a huge chunk of money (via my friends) to support his ambitions in this manner is straight out of fantasyland. (Maybe he also believes in Santa Clause.) And entering into any kind of a financial arrangement with a Thai has, at least for me, all the appeal of a colonoscopy.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention, the 400,000 baht would be needed in four days when the current lease expires.

Gee, let me check my wallet.

Not April 1, maybe not ever…all my fault!

Business Report

The Terminal 21 Mall, where I’ve had many a meal, is now welcoming all customers, albeit cautiously. Upon entering, a person must do a QR code scan with their smartphone, then have their temperature taken. For Neanderthals such as myself who only have a simple cell phone, a sign in is required in lieu of the scan.

All part of preventing the spread of the virus. What I don’t care for is having to repeat the drill anytime I go into a store (most of which appear to be open). Seems to me once should be enough. Kind of dampens my enthusiasm for doing any shopping. And I’m not sure if you need to scan something when you enter the restrooms, or use a stall. (Maybe the toilet paper?) I did not feel the call of Mother Nature while I was there, so I cannot say. But it would not surprise me.

Come one, come all.

One of the casualties of covid-19 appears to be my local internet shop on Soi 4. I had talked to the fellow who runs this back in May and was told he’d finally be re-opening June 1, but that has not happened. Too bad. I did my Retirement Visa extension last Friday at Thai Immigration, which required a small tree’s worth of paper. I would liked to have used his place for all the copying and printing instead of having to make half hour journeys to the only other print store I know.

Perhaps things will not be as convenient anymore.

Nobody home.

To Swim or Not To Swim?

The pool area at my apartment complex is pretty enough for a postcard. From my balcony I have a perfect view.

Sadly, I have spent little time there during the many years I’ve been a resident. Lounging in the tropical sun requires applying a generous dose of sunscreen, then scraping it off later. A hassle. Other times it’s just so miserably hot outside that all I want is to be hunkered down in my studio apartment with the air conditioning on high.

But beginning last winter, to my credit, I started getting out at least twice a week to swim laps. After finishing, I’d relax in one of the recliners for a bit. It became a pleasant way of clearing my head. Apart from a month-long break following minor surgery, I continued this routine until the pool was closed in late March as part of the shutdown in response to the virus. (A sad day!)

A few weeks ago, the maids informed me that the pool was now open again. However, there is a limit of two people and they can only stay an hour. A signup sheet appeared next to the gate, which remains locked. After getting your name on the list, I guess you need to have one of the security guards let you in.

This is too regimented for me. The way I operate is to glance out my balcony window and if it looks like I can have the pool all to myself, jump into my suit, grab a towel, and hurry on down there. But I’m afraid such spontaneity is not part of the new covid-19 world.

Take a number.