Introduction

“Teerak, my mom is sick and I need money.” For those of you who don’t know, teerak is the Thai equivalent of “darling”, used for “faan”, a gender neutral equivalent of boyfriend and girlfriend. It is not a big secret that there is a lot of prostitution in Thailand, although the numbers are greatly exaggerated by the tabloid media. There are many stories of crafty bar girls managing five or six boyfriends at once and inventing ever more innovative ways to extract money. “Teerak, my mom is sick and I need money” is a classic line 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 a way that many people in the West find difficult to understand. Simply put, the family takes care of each other. If you marry a member of a Thai family, you are expected to support that family. In practice, however, most Thai women hope that their boyfriend Farang will also support the family. The wealth ?? of a man is, therefore, a very important factor when choosing a partner. To some, this seems very cynical, almost akin to prostitution. This is a great oversimplification. Thai culture is not Western culture: not necessarily better or worse, just different.

The Beginning: March 25, 2006
He calls me my ex faan (very ex ex). As usual, I don’t reply. If I answered all the phone calls I receive, I would be on the phone 30 hours a day. So look, I have a text from her. “My mom is dying.” Ok, that sounds serious. I call her and 2 hours later I am in Phatumtani hospital, about an hour from central Bangkok.

It is a government hospital and I heard bad things about these institutions. But it was clean, the patients were sick but not badly 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 patients’ families are on site. Everything is very chaotic, but everything in Thailand is chaotic and pleasant.

In front of us there is a very old and very small lady. She must be in her 80s and dying. It is not a big thing. It is their moment. His whole family is there, working shifts. His grandson, who I assume is over 35, is on his turn now. You can see right away that caring is not his thing! Yet he is bathing her, chasing her, resting his head on the pillow, holding her hand, sleeping on the floor under the bed. All in all, he is showing his love and respect for his grandmother. It is a sad but also exhilarating occasion.

I see this with almost every patient and family. A cancer patient, close to death, being cared for by her sister. A very, very old lady cared for and fed by her equally elderly husband. Small children wandering around. Human trafficking in the best way. We Farang have a lot to learn from the Thais.

Neung, my ex, has cried all the way in the taxi. We arrived and his mother is not well. Looks like you’ve had an aneurysm. He is unconscious and the nurses have told him to get ready. His sister Ying has flown from Chiang Mai and is there. So the girls do their Thai stuff and I settle in for a long day. They wash their mother, 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 hits the ground and begins his rounds, but soon disappears. Someone is dying downstairs. Come back a couple of hours later. He gets very close to us this time before his phone rings and turns off again. One more hour passes and it finally 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 thorough. The prognosis is unclear. In essence, it says 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 getting to the point of “teerak, my mom is sick and I need money.” Before he has a chance to make the long-awaited “offer”, his aunt arrives from Chiang Mai, stays around for a while, obviously wonders who the hell this farang is, then leaves while giving Neung some cash to get hold of. expense charge.

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 the funeral expenses …”. Go figure!

Neighbors come and go. The phones are “hot”. Good to see people interested. I wish that was the case when it’s my turn to go.

Throughout the day I have wandered from one side of the hospital to the other. And it is interesting. I am the only farang there. Nobody speaks a word of English. A boy of about 7 years old looks at me and says, with astonished eyes, “falang” (Thais cannot pronounce the consonant ?? r ??, so ?? farang ?? comes out as ?? falang ??). The girls at the 7/11 store stare at me and laugh … then they ask me if I like Pattaya and if they can go with me. I’m only an hour from Bangkok, but it seems 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 he would prefer that Neung’s mother was okay. However, I would not have missed the experience. He showed me some good things about this country. He reaffirmed the family ethic. He showed dignity. Glad I was there. I don’t think Neung’s mom will recover, but I think her daughter is starting to adjust. We had not spoken for many months. This may not be the best reason to speak again, but it was good to do it anyway.

Follow the second part. Original story in [http://www.blog.artthailand.net/?p=14]