Matt Owens Rees

Part 3: A Thai Thief

I had crammed a lot into my first five days in Thailand. I had been puzzled and perhaps confused by some of the differences I noticed between Thai and Western ways.

Although the people seemed happy and relaxed, maybe there was something being concealed behind the smile that was on everyone’s face.

They smiled when there seemed to be nothing to smile about. They smiled when they hit a problem and just walked away. You see smiles on the faces of patients gravely ill in hospital. Mourners at funerals don’t suppress smiles when they meet you.

It was hard to understand.

Richard had told me in one of his emails that Thais would always tell you what they thought you wanted to hear rather than just answering your question.

Not only could it be misleading but also it was a surprise to the system. It was “culture shock”. It is tricky to explain unless you have personally felt it. You can become tired and a little uneasy from the frustrations that these cultural differences cause.

Toy tried to give explanations to me but I think she was anxious not to be seen as critical of the Thais. Not that I would have taken it as a condemnation of people. I just wanted to know.

I drank some holy water at a temple once because she did not explain the significance of the water rite to me. You should slowly pour half the holy water into a tiny urn during the first part of the ceremony to pass merit to the deceased. You pour the rest later to gain merit for yourself.

Jet lag must have been catching up with me, I think. It was 9am and I felt dead tired. Toy must have been reading my mind when she came out of the shower, telling me to rest a little longer and she would return later. I stayed in bed as she kissed my forehead and left the room promising to come back soon. I was asleep in seconds.

Thai women are not usually so demonstrative. They certainly wouldn’t kiss their Thai boyfriend or husband when saying goodbye. Even in private.

I must have slumbered for an hour or two and it was the hunger pains that persuaded me to get up. I opened the wardrobe doors and, to my horror, found that my suitcase was missing. Almost all my clothes had gone. I was left with only one shirt and a pair of slacks.

I had been burgled. Staff would not question someone in a hotel walking around wheeling a suitcase, would they?

I checked the bedside drawer. My wallet, air ticket, and passport were inside untouched. No money had been taken. The souvenirs I had bought were still on the table. Only my case of clothes was missing.

I got dressed and went down to reception to report the theft.

After a late breakfast, I stayed in the hotel. There would be no point venturing out to continue my exploration of the neighbourhood as I had no fresh clothes. I switched on the TV, hoping that this might take my mind off my predicament.

The door opened and there was Toy, my suitcase in her hand. Had the hotel staff found it and handed it to her to bring it up to me?

With a disarming smile, she told me that she had returned to my room when I was sleeping, taken all the clothes away, including hers, washed them; and put them out to dry.

“I sign off school now. I get ironing done. Rest of day be us.”

There were more of Toy’s clothes than mine. I laughed out loud. Nothing changes when it comes to sharing your wardrobe with a woman.

The old iron she was using kept cutting out, taking the creases out of our clothes was going to be a slow process.

That day we spent some time just outside Chiangmai at a beautiful waterfall. Climbing up the rocks, I felt young and mischievous again, the cool spring water running over my feet.

I scooped some water in my hands and splashed it over the Thai companion who stood below me.

We were both laughing like a couple of young children, playing together without any worries about getting their clothes soaking wet.

There were young Thai couples around us who were laughing at how we were enjoying ourselves. However, they seemed more staid and inhibited, not wanting to show their emotions in public. That is a noticeable trait in most Thais.

This was a lady I was slowly falling in love with, bewitched by her subtle charms and even subtler ways of getting me to do what she wanted.

However, I had a return ticket to the UK in my wallet, a job to return to when I was fitter for work, and the problem of selling the house. I longed for a permanent relationship with Toy. And she seemed to want me. For the moment, it seemed out of the question.

We dried ourselves as best we could and jumped in the car to do some more sightseeing. The hot water springs, the wood carving village, and the umbrella village at Borsang, made famous by Princess Diana on her first visit to Thailand.

We saw the colourful umbrella they made in her honour. It is mentioned in the Guinness Book of Records as the largest umbrella ever made.

In the evening, we met up with Kanya and went shopping. I chose a moment when I was alone with Toy’s daughter to ask her what her mum would like for her birthday. All she would say was “Tam jai Dee-rick. It’s up to you.”

I pointed to some clothes. “Tam jai Dee-rick.” There was some jewellery on display, “Tam jai Dee-rick.” A new telephone? “Tam jai Dee-rick.”

Although I had no idea what Toy might want, I remembered something else about the Thais that Richard had talked to me about. They do not like to force their opinions on you and are reluctant to suggest what you should do.

That was all very well, but I really did want some suggestions. Nevertheless, that is not the Thai style. All I was getting was “up to you.”

A year later, an expat I had met at a local bar told me that saying “up to you” was their tactic of getting what they wanted. They would follow the comment with subtle, or perhaps not so subtle, hints.

Otherwise, they would get a friend to act as an intermediary to tell you what they actually wanted.

The next day, while Toy was out of the school’s staff room, I explained my plans for her fortieth birthday to two of her colleagues.

Mali agreed to get the cake; Pakpao was roped in to get balloons; and my task was to get in touch with Kanya. I swore her to secrecy. I wanted her mum’s party tomorrow to be a big surprise.

The next day, I was awake before Toy. Without a sound, I put my birthday card on her pillow and a large parcel at the foot of our bed. The noise of the boiling kettle made Toy stir.

Wishing her a happy birthday as she opened her card and present, I waited for her reaction. Excitedly, she opened the box. A brand new steam iron. Not the most romantic of gifts but at least she would be able to iron clothes quicker in the future!

I was told Thais will not open a gift in front of you. They will smile, thank you, and put it one side to open when they are alone. Westerners find that strange, even rude.

However, to Thais, they do not want to risk showing any disappointment in your choice of gift. They must preserve “face”. Thais also do not want to impose on you directly or put you to any trouble. It’s called their concept of grengjai in Thai.

A shout came from the bathroom. The whole hotel would have heard it. “What this?”

I had tied a small bag to the showerhead. I told her to bring it out of the shower. “Happy Birthday,” I said again. “Now open it.” I think she saw now that this was her real present.

A gold necklace with a heart-shaped gem. She put it round her neck and moved to the mirror for a better view. Nobody had ever given her a gift like that before.

After breakfast, we made our way to school. Signing in as usual, Toy took her seat and started preparing her day. Toy’s daughter and her colleagues crept in from a rear door singing, “Happy Birthday” as they walked towards her.

Toy proudly showed her friends the gold chain around her neck, commenting on how expensive it must have been.

Her co-workers then led her to another part of the staff room where they had decorated a desk with balloons and flowers. In one corner, they had lightheartedly put up a balloon shaped as a condom.

Thais love to make an occasion a fun event. Some parents and children had popped in, many bringing gifts of fruit. A feature of Thai lifestyle is that people join in at parties.

In the towns and cities, one often sees red balloons hung outside bars as a sign that some celebration or other is in progress. Passers-by regularly get involved and participate in the fun. Thailand is an exceptionally “community” based society.

Thais live as part of their family and as part of their community. They don’t live as individuals as we tend to do in the West.

When children get their first job, they usually stay with mum and dad even after they get married. Possibly in a small house in the family garden or sometimes in a house nearby.

If they have to work away, they will rent a one-roomed apartment but home will still be where the parents are.

Always on the telephone and always attending family events.