Kat’s Window

Last week found the author visiting with 45-year-old Bayong Yamsang at her humble tin shack (see back issues: Talking about the Darker Side — Part I, 23 September 2002: http://www.bangkokpost.com/kat/archives/230902a.html). The discussion with Bayong now continues…

When questioned about her daily schedule, she answered, “I get up every morning at 6 a.m. Most of my day is spent doing housework, taking care of the children and either working or looking for work. I go to bed around 9 p.m.”

When I asked her what she spent the most time thinking about, she stated, “Money. And worrying when my husband is going to come home. He comes home every fifteen days even though I told him to stop coming. He drinks whisky, spends all of his money on whisky. Then, when he is drunk, he likes to box me around the house. Sometimes he does not let me sleep inside.” Her husband is 51 years old and although he does not sound like a good husband, Bayrong thinks he does an OK job at being a father. “The kids are OK most of the time. If there is a problem, they stay away from the house,” she stated.

When asked what she would do if hypothetically given 5,000 baht (USD$120), she was extremely quick to answer. “I would buy food and some supplies for a small (roadside) restaurant. There are a lot of school children in this neighbourhood and I could sell them their lunch and snacks. That way I could still take care of my kids, too.”

Although her house has electricity, it does not have running water. “We get our water from the canal up the street. We use it to wash clothes and dishes in, and for bathing. And we drink it,” she said, and then proceeded to giggle at the shocked expression on my face. When questioned about her health care, she said, “I don’t get sick very much. If I do, I can go to the hospital but they don’t charge me the full price because I have a card from the government telling them not to.”

Given the fact that six other tin houses share the small plot of land she lives on and the fact that five to six people live in her house, I can guess that there are about 38 people using the small outhouse on the premises. Good thing there is a lot of undeveloped jungle in the surroundings. When questioned about problems with snakes, she stated, “Of course they are here! We kill them and eat them!”

I then went with her on a tour of her house. Actually, it is a one-room tin-roofed structure with plywood floor adjoining a similar structure. Inside was an enormous bed for the entire family, a fan, a small rice cooker, a jumble of clothing, an old tire, one drinking cup, a few dishes, a clock, a propane gas stove, and a very small table. A defunct mosquito net was above the bed. It was less than meticulous and very claustrophobic. I had to remark to myself how incredibly hot it must get inside in Thailand’s tropical heat with the tin only serving to increase the already soaring temperatures. Bayong showed me her house and reported on her life without a bat-of-the-eye. She struck me as a tough and down-to-earth character, probably the reason why she was brave enough to stick around and talk to me in the first place when everyone else chose to vanish. I felt a bit odd asking her a bunch of questions with answers that seemed more than obvious to her. When I enquired if there was anything she wished to know aboabout me, she blushed out of shyness and declined.

I asked her if she thinks her life would get better and her response shocked me, not only because of its sadness, but also because of its incredible directness with respect to Thai culture. “My life is never going to get better. Not until my husband is dead or stops coming home. I wish I could leave but I can’t. I have nowhere to go.” His whisky drinking and drunken rages have obviously left her terrified of seeing him.

I felt humble and grateful as I climbed back into my car and headed off to my home where air-conditioning, running water, food, comfort and convenience were all waiting for me. Although I had driven by Bayong’s house hundreds of times before visiting her and had always assumed living there was difficult, it turned out that her life was even darker than I had expected. Bayong accepts her life and everything that goes with it in stride. I consider her to be a woman of remarkable strength.

Tucked away on a small street that doesn’t get much traffic very near my house is what could best be referred to as a slum. I use this road as a shortcut and am always gazing in awe at the tin ramshackle houses, numerous people who live inside of them and the piles of trash. It was with some hesitation that I decided to head over there and attempt to find someone to interview. When I arrived, six women were sitting on a raised plywood platform tending to children accompanied by five stray dogs and numerous roosters. All but one woman dispersed the minute I stepped out of the car. Surprisingly, I was a hit with the dogs.

It was 45-year-old Bayong Yamsang who sat giving me a stoic stare. I was surprised when she agreed to have a chat with me. Bayong has lived on the same plot of land for the last thirty years. Before that, she lived in Ayutthaya. She is the mother of four children, ages 3, 13, 19 and 21. All of them live at home with her and the eldest works as a fulltime babysitter for 4,000 baht per month.

Bayong’s husband does not stay with the family but rather travels around after construction jobs when he can find them. He can earn 200 baht (US$4.50) a day when he finds work. He comes home every fifteen days and they have been married for 30 years.

Bayong used to work as a construction worker also but hasn’t been able to find steady work for the last three years. “I’ll do anything for work but it has to be near this village so that I can take care of my children. I make some money doing laundry for people now but I used to help build houses. I carried concrete. They paid me fifteen baht a day when I started doing it thirty years ago but the last time I worked, I got 150 baht (USD$3.50) a day. Everyone that lives around here knows I need a job. They will tell me if there is something. And I still go looking for work. When I find work, the children will take care of themselves but I need to check in on them.”

When asked which house belonged to her, she pointed to a small tin shack and explained, “An organization gave me money to help build the house. It is a charity run through my son’s school. They bought the roof for me and gave me some baby clothes and 500 baht (USD$11.50). They also help pay for my son to get to school and for his lunch.”

The bleakness of the dirt lot in which we were sitting and the number of bugs that were swarming on me is probably what caused me to ask her what she likes to do for fun. She responded, “I like to listen to music. I don’t have a stereo but my neighbours do, so I listen to theirs when they turn it on. The people that live here get along with each other. There used to be some people taking amphetamines and sniffing glue but the police arrested them.”

When questioned about her education, Bayong stated, “I only went to school for two years. I can’t read at all and I can hardly write. I would like to learn, but my IQ just is no good. I might be not be very bright but I can work.”

She does not pay any rent for the land that she lives on, does not have running water but does have electricity. “I buy it from a neighbour. They charge me eight baht a unit but it actually costs them three baht a unit. My electricity bill is around 500 baht (USD$11.50) per month,” she explained. She spends a total of 50-60 baht (USD$1.15-1.25) a day feeding her family and elaborated by stating, “There are a lot of fruits and vegetables around here. I collect them. Sometimes there are so many that I have enough left over to sell some. Besides that, we eat rice and sometimes some chicken.”

She and her family share a small plot of land with seven small shacks on it directly across from one of the biggest and most decadent houses I have ever seen in Thailand. It rivals a European castle, in fact. When asked her thoughts on this house she said, “All I know about that house is that we can not go near it. The man that owns that house is not Thai, but I don’t know where he is from. I know that he is not nice!”

To take a tour of Bayong’s house and learn more about her daily life, tune in next week.

Before I head back to the United States for a visit, I make some enquiries as to what people may like to have as a gift from Thailand. Very often the answer is ’silk.’ Even I, the ‘jeans and a t-shirt’ person, have recognised the intense beauty and relatively low cost of silk in Thailand. The patterns can be so intricate and striking at times that silk goes beyond its practical functionalities and enters the realm of art. In fact, I don’t just sometimes wear silk. I also hang it on the walls.

The origin of silk production and weaving is ancient and controversial but suffice it to say that most scholars agree it originated in China around 3 BC and traces of silk production have been found in Thailand that date back to 4 BC. What makes Thai silk one of the more prestigious of silk varieties is the wave-like quality of the silk threads used in weaving and the ancient and skilled craftsmanship of Thailand when it comes to making these threads into elegant and beautiful patterns. Although I am adept at admiring silk, I had no idea how it was produced (except the fact that a silkworm was involved) before I had the opportunity to watch it being made. Here is a short version of silk production.

It takes three to four weeks for an egg to develop into a silkworm. The silk worms are then placed in large bamboo trays and fed mulberry leaves during their 30-day growth period which allows them to increase their weight 10,000 fold. They are then placed in circular bamboo trays where they spin their cocoons at the rate of twelve centimetres per minute. The entire process takes about 36 hours. They later hatch about ten days after having completed their cocoon. After the cocoons are completed, man intervenes and takes the soft material that they have wrapped themselves in to produce silk. If the pupae emerge, they will ruin the cocoon. If this happens, they are quite likely to be consumed by the workers for lunch with the damaged cocoons being used for lower grade silk production.

The cocoons, with pupae still encased, are then placed in simmering water to separate the threads. This is a somewhat controversial but necessary task. As Buddhists prefer not to kill living animals, there are some that would refuse this assignment.

Silk strands are pulled out of the water using bamboo poles and are then twisted together to form a large thread which is then reeled onto a spool. The silk from Thailand’s caterpillars varies from light gold to light green in colour and one cocoon contains a single strand ranging from 500-1,500 meters long.

Next the silk is inspected and graded. Silk from the outer layers of the cocoon are more coarse and therefore used for furnishings while the threads from the inner layers are of a higher grades and are used for weaving cloth.

After this the silk is soaked in water to remove its gum-like coating before it is dyed. It is then plied together to make threads and wound onto spools or drums in preparation for weaving.

Two types of silk are used in this process, one for the background colour and one for the patterns in the foreground. Weaving requires patience and skill. Patterns can range from the very plain and subtle to the bright and intricate. Silk is made into anything from umbrellas to ties to pocketbooks and can be found at most any market or street corner.

Traditionally, farmers produced silk when they were not working in the fields and it was a skill passed on from generation to generation. The styles and colours used in weaving typically reflect the region that the silk was produced in. Due to modernization, industrial machinery has been employed in silk production but many traditional methods are also still used with the handmade products being more prized and expensive at the end. Most silk comes from Northern and Northeastern Thailand as good growing grounds for mulberry (silkworm food) can be found there.

Thai traditional dress reflects Thailand’s long history and capabilities with silk. Silk is worn on both formal and informal occasions and Her Majesty the Queen, besides being an advocate for and strong supporter of the silk industry as illustrated by the several hand-weaving projects she has launched, wears it with pride.

Jim Thompson is a man who is almost as famous as Thai silk itself. He was an American silk entrepreneur who disappeared under strange circumstances in Malaysia in 1967. He made his fortune helping revive the Thai silk industry after World War II. His house (constructed in stunning traditional Thai style) is open to the public and hosts his collection of art and antiques from the Southeast Asian region. His is one of the finest brands of silk even today. A visit to the Jim Thompson house, located on Rama I Road in Bangkok, is one activity I always recommend to anyone visiting Bangkok.

Maybe you already know that Thai is a language that is spoken using five tones, employs an alphabet of 44 consonants and 32 vowels, is liberally sprinkled with words from Pali and Sanskrit, (the classical languages of Theravada Buddhism and Indian Hinduism, respectively) and looks mighty strange to the western eye.

Many aspects of Thai society focus on rank and relation to one another and this is also reflected in the language. Different nouns and verbs are used when speaking in royal terms, normal fashion, politely and when using slang. The end result? There are seventeen ways of saying ‘I’ and 19 ways of saying ‘you’ in Thai.

Add to this the fact that the letter ‘R’ is rarely pronounced, but rather turned into an ‘L’ or an ‘N’ sound depending on where it is in a word, that the various dialects within the country (Laotian-influenced Thai in the eastern part of the country and the northern Thai dialect, for example), in addition to some vowel sounds needing to be long and others short, and the fact that the letters ‘L’ and ‘R’ are pronounced as ‘N’ when placed at the end of a word and it is no wonder that learners of Thai have moments of immense confusion verging on terror. Thai inevitably becomes translated into phonetic English and road signs illustrate the difficulty of this task. Phetchburi, Petchaburi, Pechburi, and Petcharaburi all refer to the same road.

There is not only bad news when it comes to the prospect of learning Thai. The good news is that the grammatical structures of the language are quite easy indeed and tense structures pose no enormous threat as they would if you were to learn English. Building vocabulary in Thai becomes easier and easier the more basic words you know. For example, a hairdresser’s shop is referred to as ’shop cut hair.’

Something you might not know is that many foreigners living in Thailand can barely speak Thai. Perhaps we should not let the cat out of the bag regarding the fact that a large majority of us can only direct a taxi (Turn left! Turn right! Stop!), argue over prices at the market (50 baht is expensive. How about 30 baht?), order a beer (One Heineken, two glasses please.) and ask for our favourite foods from waiters or food vendors (Fried rice with shrimp, please.) And now confession time. My Thai is still quite horrible and despite another six-week intensive course, hours of meticulous note taking and study, an excellent teacher and even a good report card at the end of class, it is still quite horrendous. Those ‘farangs’ that go around speaking Thai well impress the heck out of the rest of us that just flounder by. But don’t assume that speaking Thai means reading and writing Thai. That is absolutely another can of worms.

The truth is, you can just fuddle by with bad spoken Thai language skills. If you are in Bangkok or other areas, you usually are faced with someone who speaks better English than you do Thai. If you are out in the countryside and proceed with your rather twisted interpretation of the Thai language and add some arm waving, finger pointing and (perhaps) psychic communication, you usually end up with what you are after. You feel proud after having (falsely) communicated in totally incorrect or even incomprehensible Thai, but somehow it worked and everyone was too polite to correct your disastrous sentence, as is usually the case when host countries face mangled versions of their language around the world.

The following sentences are good examples of the Thai language’s ability to terrify potential learners. What could ‘Mai mai mai mai? Mai mai mai mai. Mai mai mai mai.’ possibly mean? With the correct use of tones, these three sentences translate to: ‘Does new wood burn? New wood does not burn. Old wood burns.’ (Of course!)

Most learners of Thai report a steep learning curve in the beginning and smoother sailing from then on. The inevitable tonal mistakes provide ’sanuk’ (fun) for listeners as they attempt to correctly interpret incorrect and sometimes embarrassing sentences. (The word ’suay’ when pronounced with rising tone means ‘beautiful.’ When spoken in mid-tone, it means a stronger version of ‘drat!’ or ‘bad luck.’)

But even while listening to their language being spoken in incorrect tones and with horrible mistakes, most Thais will give the brightest of smiles and truly appreciate the fact that you are at least trying. The longer you keep on trying the better your Thai will get (technically speaking), so I guess it’s time for me to dust off my notebooks and textbooks and get to work.