It occurs to me that if I do not make some notes about my
various acquaintances here at the condo I will certainly forget them, almost
all of them. “The condo” is a nice place
near my university here in Bangkapi, a neighborhood in east Bangkok with lots
of Thai Muslims, more than a few Africans here for one reason or another, and a
good sprinkling of white foreigners but not so many that you would notice at
the mall. It’s fairly cosmopolitan
without being at all touristy.
Michael
Michael is Australian, probably Indian via Australia. He has some kind of heavy-equipment franchise
for multiple countries, and he travels quite a bit. He’s a big guy who looks very, very strong,
and he’s got a big voice to match. About
fifty years old. He is very friendly to
everybody, but with undertones of the sadness that is often found in
expats. A sadness, if I may wax personal
for a moment, that is mitigated by the adventure of living abroad and reduced
by the absence of the triggers that are present in the home country. Michael doesn’t seem to be a womanizer, but
his personal life is on the down-low so I couldn’t be sure. I hope he’s happy.
Peter
Peter is gone already.
His lifestyle here includes moving every six months. He was a very friendly guy, not afraid to sit
and talk on occasion, but there is only one reason to move every six months. He said that it was so that he could
experience different neighborhoods, but you can do that from a home base. I had the feeling that after six months he had
too many acquaintances that he felt obliged to stop and talk to. So, time to move. No social pressure to talk to anybody in a new
place, not for a few months anyway.
Peter is English, but he carries two passports, U.K. and
Ireland. This could be another way to
dodge social responsibilities. Mid-fifties,
trim and not unattractive, but overly shy is my guess. Never
saw him with a woman either. Some of
these guys keep their cards close to their vests.
Dieter
Dieter is a retired Wermacht armored warfare training
officer. He’s a huge, Faustian man with
a dangerous handshake, I have to be careful to quickly grab him by the
fingertips or else my hand hurts for two days.
Dieter has a wonderful Thai wife in her early fifties; he’s early
seventies himself. Ten years post heart
attack, he’s been in Thailand for six years now. He has no desire to go back. Germany is a very demanding social situation,
and the pace of life is frantic. Many of
us come to Thailand for the “sabai-jai,” which is very close to the German word
“gemuetlich,” something close to “easy-going.”
Dieter’s condo, which he owns, is full of actual German
furniture, expensive stuff that he bought on a trip home and shipped to
Bangkok. I like Dieter a lot. He even lets me “dutz” him, we talk
frequently in a combination of German, English and Thai words, and we use the
familiar form of address. I hope that he’s
happy.
Rod
An American, for a change, so close to fifty that he could
hit it with a thrown baseball. Rod is a
translator by trade, he works the intersection of French, Dutch and
English. He could do the work anywhere
he had a decent Internet connection. He
likes the low overhead here, among other things. Let’s just say that Rod’s not a womanizer and
leave it at that. Rod’s a great guy, and
I’ll probably know him even after we all move.
Miscellaneous Rich, Young Iranians
It’s such a shame that our two countries can’t seem to get
along, because I really like the Iranians that I have met. Plenty of Iranians in L.A., and I knew and
worked with quite a few. We’ve got a few
here at the condo, and they are a good bunch too. Gracious, intelligent and well dressed, I
wish them all well, wherever situated. I’m
not surprised that certain rich, young Iranians would prefer to live in
Thailand. I prefer it myself, to my own
country, which is still slightly easier to handle than Iran.
Chris
Another American with the potential to be a long-term
friend. Chris is about fifty-three, he’s
built like a pale, handsomer Hulk. He
does triathlons, and thinks nothing of setting off for ten-mile-plus bike rides
around Bangkok on the surface streets.
Chris has a Thai wife who seems hard working and not a gold-digger at
all. She has a nail parlor and Chris
teaches English. I hope that they’re
happy.
Baku
Baku is a graduate student of engineering at a Catholic
university nearby. He’s a great kid and
I really like him. He’s Kuwaiti. He took it very well when I asked him if he
was from Azerberjian (sp), after all the capitol of Azerberjian is Baku. I was happy to meet Baku’s dad when he
visited, and to tell him what a fine son he had. Shameless, I know, but I do what I can to
encourage international brotherhood.
Baku seems to have a pretty full social life, certainly fuller than would
be possible back in the Middle-East.
Eddie
Not technically a resident of the condo, but a regular visitor. One of the most interesting guys I know,
Eddie is a retired California high school math teacher. Eighty years old and black, Eddie divides his
time between Bangkok and Chiang Mai in Thailand, his property in Hawaii, and
visits to see his children in the States.
Eddie doesn’t talk about women, but my guess is that his dance card is
still pretty full.
Gerry
Gerry’s in the tour business, so he’s on the road a
lot. He’s a very lively companion when
he’s around though, and it’s always good to see him at the coffee
meetings. He’s the most international
person that I know. He’s of mixed
English and South East Asian heritage, and grew up in at least Malaysia and
Great Britten. Five siblings in his
family, and these days they live in four countries on as many continents. He’s an easy-going and very friendly guy, and
I’m sure that he gets along very well anywhere in the world. He has a nice Thai wife and I hope that they
are both very happy.
David
David is a grad student around here somewhere. He’s
from Tanzania, the part where most people are Christian. (I forget which is which, the island or the
mainland.) David is a very bright,
personable young man, anybody would like him immediately. He’s a tall, trim handsome guy, that
blacker-than-black that is much more common in Africa than it is in
America. He’d like to stay in Thailand
after he graduates, which I think is only sensible. I hope that all of his dreams come true.
The Japanese Family Man
I feel bad that I don’t remember this fellows name, we’ve
spoken so many times. He’s in his early
thirties I’d say, married to a Cambodian woman, they have two children. They are one of the handsomest families in
the world, without a doubt. All four of
them, if you met them, you’d say, wow, that’s a handsome man; a beautiful
woman; extravagantly attractive child.
All very nice too. Loving couple;
well adjusted children. The older boy
speaks Cambodian with his mom, understands Japanese but choses to respond in
Thai or English. He floats effortlessly
between these languages. So they are
wildly international, this family. I’m
happy to know them.
Miscellaneous Antisocial Runaways
Oh, I’m not being cruel, Thailand is full of them. Guys who couldn’t get laid in their home
countries if they found themselves in a whore-house with a stack of hundred
dollar bills; guys with appetites that they could not quench back home; guys
that just can’t get along with anybody; guys with personalities so disagreeable
that the only thing they can do is move to a place where they don’t speak the
language and where teaching English is a readily obtainable job. We’ve got those, from a long list of countries. Some of them can’t look anybody in the eye;
some chose not to. Some are scrounges;
some deeply disturbed; some merely shit-for-brained. We’re lucky, I suppose, only one seems like
he could be actually dangerous.
The Football Players
We now have a group of African football (soccer) players
living here in rentals. A big energy
drink company with its headquarters in the area hired a team wholesale and
installed them here. They are a good
bunch. I see them in Thai Premier League
games on TV sometimes, I root for them. Many of them have home-country wives or
girlfriends in tow. I wish them all
well.
That’s all that I’m remembering right now. It’s a start.
Maybe it’s not even interesting, to anybody but me that is. Might come in handy someday though, after the
forgetting has gotten well under way.
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