Teerak- My mom is sick and I need money
Introduction
“Teerak, my mom is sick and I need money.” For those who don’t know, “teerak” is the Thai equivalent of “darling”, used by “faan”, a gender-neutral equivalent of boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s no big secret that there is a lot of prostitution in Thailand, although figures are greatly exaggerated by tabloid media. There are plenty of stories of sneaky bar girls managing five or six boyfriends at a time and coming up with ever more innovative ways to make money. “Teerak, my mom is sick and I need money” is a classic phrase used by farang residents in Thailand to describe these girls.
Perhaps less well known is the culture of the family. The Thai family is the centerpiece of society in ways that many people in the West find difficult to understand. Simply put, the family takes care of each other. If you marry into a Thai family, you are expected to support that family. In practice, however, most Thai women will expect their boyfriend Farang to support the family as well. The “wealth” of a man is therefore a very important factor in choosing a mate. To some this seems very cynical, almost akin to prostitution. This is a gross oversimplification. Thai culture is not Western culture: not necessarily better or worse, just different.
The beginning: March 25, 2006
My ex faan calls me (very ex ex). As usual I don’t answer. If I answered every phone call I get, I’d be on the phone 30 hours a day. So look, I have an SMS from her. “My dying mom.” Okay, that sounds serious. I call her and 2 hours later I am at Phatumtani Hospital, an hour from downtown Bangkok.
It is a government hospital and I have heard bad things about these institutions. But it was clean, the patients were sick but not poorly cared for, the staff seemed professional, and the care was pretty good. In that classic Thai way that I really love and admire, all the families of the patients are on site. Everything is very chaotic, but everything in Thailand is chaotic and it’s nice.
In front of us is a very old and very small lady. She must be 80 years old and she is dying. She is no big deal. It’s just her time. Her whole family is there, working shifts. Her grandson, who I guess is over 35, is on her shift now. You can see right away that caring is not her thing! Yet he is washing her, chasing her, laying her head on her pillow, holding her hand, sleeping on the floor under her bed. In general, he is showing her love and respect for her grandmother. It is a sad but also exhilarating occasion.
I see this with almost every patient and family. A cancer patient, on the verge of death, in the care of her sister. A very, very old woman being cared for and fed by her equally old husband. Small children wandering. Human trafficking in the best way. We Farang have a lot to learn from the Thais.
Neung, my ex, has been crying all the way in the taxi. We arrived and his mother is not good. She looks like she has had an aneurysm. She is unconscious and the nurses have said to prepare. El’s sister Ying flew in from Chiang Mai and is there. So the girls do their Thai thing and I settle in for a long day. They wash her mom, talk to her, hold her hand and cry a lot (of course!). I joke around a bit, buy food, buy drinks, etc. And we wait for the doctor. He reaches the flat and begins his rounds, but soon disappears. Someone is dying downstairs. He comes back a couple of hours later. This time he gets very close to us before the phone rings and goes off again. Another hour passes and finally it reaches us.
The nurses do some pretty horrible things to Neung’s mom, but for the right reasons, of course. The doctor takes his time. He is young but he is thorough. The prognosis is unclear. In essence, he is saying that we just have to wait a few days and see what happens.
Neung starts asking me how he can go to be with his mom while he works, how he can pay for the taxi, etc. Little by little we are reaching the point of “teerak, my mom is sick and I need money”. Before he gets a chance to make the expected “offer”, his aunt arrives from Chiang Mai, stays for a while, obviously wondering who the hell this farang is, then leaves while giving Neung some money to make herself charge of expenses.
And little by little everyone cheers up. Neung even has the “balls” to call the insurance agent about the life policy… “teerak, I need to think about funeral expenses…”. Go figure!
Neighbors come and neighbors go. Phones are “hot”. It’s good to see people interested. Hopefully that’s the case when it’s my turn to go.
Throughout the day I have wandered up and down the hospital. And it is interesting. I am the only farang there. Nobody speaks a word of English. A boy about 7 years old looks at me and says, with amazed eyes, “falang” (Thai people can’t pronounce the consonant “r”, so “farang” comes out as “falang”). The girls in the 7/11 store look at me and laugh…then ask me if I like Pattaya and if they can go with me! I’m only an hour from Bangkok, but it feels like I’m in a different world.
I could have done it without everything. I had to delay a flight back to Switzerland, my home. I’m tired. I have work to do. And obviously I’d rather Neung’s mom was okay. However, I would not have missed the experience. She showed me some good things about this country. She reaffirmed the family ethic. She showed dignity. I’m glad I was there. I don’t think Neung’s mom will recover, but I think her daughter is starting to adjust. We hadn’t spoken in many months. Maybe this isn’t the best reason to talk again, but it was good to do it anyway.
Follow part 2. original story on [http://www.blog.artthailand.net/?p=14]