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Just one moment please

By Billy

September 23, 2007

I was blessed with my dad’s sense of humour – “you’d laugh if your bum was on fire” – my mum would snarl at him, in times of anger and frustration.

Perhaps because of this I have found travelling in Asia a wonderful source of hilarity. However at times, it has been a double edged sword. There is a direct correlation between the mirth factor and the frustration factor. When a funny situation arises one will often find oneself thinking ‘only in Thailand’ – as you shake your head and try to stave off anger or frustration.

I have learnt by experience that it is usually better to diffuse a potentially nasty situation by trying to see the funny side and keep smiles on faces all around.

I remember coming out of the Bow Guesthouse on soi 7 near Thapie Gate in Chiang Mai. It looked as if some dude had ended up on the wrong side of an angry tour-guide. They were shouting at each other like wild Banshees – I guess in that situation there probably wasn’t much the poor hapless Farang felt like laughing about. Only for the fact that his wise better-half dragged him off by the scruff, that it didn’t turn into a brawl.

However most times there is a lot to smile about!!

“Just one moment please”

This has to be my most enduring all time favourite source of mirth in Asia. I have heard it said in so many different countries, in so many places by so many different people – but the way it is used never ceases to amuse me.

If the situation is relaxed and congenial you will normally get the full version – “Just one moment please”. If the situation is a bit tense or rushed you will get “One moment please”. If it is said through clenched teeth you will get the abbreviated version “moment”. All three versions mean exactly the same thing!!

Let my clarify that – except for the odd exception when it can be taken literally – methinks none of the locals knows what the hell it means!!

The office girl will fumble around for your receipt or keys as you wait at reception – and you actually will only wait a few moments – however from then on it is all downhill.

Many is the time I have stood there waiting while frustrated workers fumbled around mumbling “just one moment please”. After a lengthy wait, while they tried to sort out whatever was of concern at the time, another worker outranking the subordinate would come over and say “One moment please”. Finally the boss of the whole shebang would be dragged into the situation and would come shuffling over and through clenched teeth mutter my favourite word “moment”!!

The greatest length of time I have ever waited was when I hitched up with a Dolly-Bird in Pattaya. Being a non-drinker and too miserable to pay the bar fine – I thought I would throw myself into the fray and take my chances with the aids-sodden Wenches on the beach strip. After a suitable fee was negotiated I dragged the not very enthusiastic looking Bird off to my Guesthouse. After the necessary pleasantries and ablutions I headed off to the cot with hope in my heart and a surging in my loins. However there were a few major problems that I had overlooked.

Firstly I was new at this game and had not learnt the rules of philandering. Secondly I had already paid her the 1,000Bht. Finally, the Guesthouse had a toilet away from the bedroom and near another exit.

She told me she was slipping off to the loo and as she disappeared out the door I heard the very familiar refrain. Fortunately for me I got the full version – probably because she knew what was coming – “Just one moment please”. ……………………………. I am still waiting – I never laid eyes on her again!#$%^&

Another time I was travelling on the bus from Pattaya to Bangkok (before I wised up to hiring a taxi) – when the old girl broke down. We were only about one hour out of Pattaya when she gave a few lurches, spluttered a bit and ground to an unceremonious halt. The driver – being the consummate professional that he was – grabbed the biggest mother spanner I have ever laid eyes on. As he struggled down the steps I heard the now famous catchphrase – “Just one moment please”.

………………Four and a half hours later the replacement bus arrived from Bangkok!#%^!

Geography has no bearing on the frequency to which one may be exposed to this phrase. I have been in the absolute back-blocks all the way from Northern Thailand to Cambodia and Lao. Places where the locals speak no English. Places where I was the only Farang for days at a time. Places where, by the collective looks on the faces of the locals I was a rarity. However it wasn’t long before I heard the words rattling from the mouths of selected individuals – “Just one moment please”!!

So next time you don the Sarong and whack on the sandals get ready for the most frustrating/hilarious saying in the LOS – which will cover every situation from toilet time out to that long frustrating wait in line at the Immigration office – “Just one moment please”!!

The ‘Tarp’!#$%!

This has to be the most inexplicable, bewilderingly funny tale to emanate from the LOS for a very long time. In fact I am even more confused now than when I first posed the question – so if anybody can enlighten me please go ahead – I will be forever indebted to you.

It actually involves my girlfriend Princess (Not the Princess of Dana fame!#$%^!~). Let me explain.

For those who read my first submission ‘Love and Assault in Chiang Mai’, you will remember that I brought Princess to Sydney Christmas last. Thais do not get lengthy holidays as we do in the West. As a recent graduate, she obtained a very good position at the Kasikorn bank in Chiang Mai. Unfortunately she had to resign from the position in order to come to Australia.

As we are going to travel together this year, starting in December, we thought it not expedient for her to have to go through the rigmarole of getting another full-time position, only to have to resign again. She is now working in a casual position in Maerim, near where she lives.

As she is only getting 30Bht per hour I felt somewhat obliged to subsidise her income. At least to make up the difference between what she now gets per month to what she was getting at the Bank. I decided to pay her some ‘take care’ every month until December. This should see her in good stead until the time we can be together.

Princess being the entrepreneur that she is showed initiative and asked to have all the ‘take care’ in one hit. Having recently graduated from Uni she has many friends and contacts who are still studying. She said she had discovered an untapped resource – many rich kids who are too lazy or inept to type their own assignments. She bought a computer and printer with the money, works her day job and types for 10 Bht per page in the evening. She now has a thriving little business.

However this is where the total bewilderment of yours truly kicks in. Here is an example of a typical phone conversation with Princess of late.

Dumb Farang – “Hi darling, how is the business going”?

Princess – “Yes good, I very busy now”

DF – “That’s great sweetie, I am glad it is all going well”

P – “Yes I have to go soon to do the lesearch (research)”

DF – “Oh student he not write the assignment yet”?

P – “No, man write the leport (report) alleady”

DF – “So if you have the report already what do you have to research”?

P – “Have to lesearch to do the tarp (typing)”

DF – “Darling if you research and write the assignment that is called plagiarism and it’s illegal”

P – “How can be illegal, man he write the leport alleady”

DF – “What the hell’s a report”?

P – “Same you call assignment”

DF – “Well go and type it”

P – “No – have to lesearch for the tarp”

DF – “Well if the student has done the research and he’s written the bloody assignment why the hell can’t you go and type it”?

P – “Have to do the lesearch for the tarp”

DF – “Research what”?

P – “Lesearch the information so can do the tarp”

DF – “Ok, (here’s me trying to calm down and look as if I have got a handle on this whole wretched confusing Thai thing all along), so if you have to do more research that means the assignment is incomplete. Why did you say man has finished already”?

P – “Yes man he write Leport alleady”

DF – “WELL IF MAN WRITE ASSIGNMENT ALREADY GO AND TYPE THE WRETCHED THING”!$^

P – “No dulleeng – have to do the lesearch before can do the tarp”

DF – “Research what pray tell”?

P – “The information for the tarp”

DF – “What information”

P – “The information to tarp the leport”

DF – “!#$%^*!”

Now I’m not sure about you, but when I went to Uni if the assignment was finished that meant all of the research was complete. Finished, end of story, finito. Grab the computer, rattle the keys a little and hey presto, one complete assignment.

I can’t for the life of me think what the hell Princess has left to do before she can type some idiot’s assignment. She said it’s all done and finished so what on earth is there left to research? I thought she may have to find out information to set up the computer and printer so it’s all working – not so. I asked her that and all is ready to go!!

I even found myself of late rummaging around trying to find the original copy of my B.Ed. It has been a while now and apparently I am so inherently stupid that I am beginning to wonder if perhaps they dished it out just to get rid of me.

I have yet to start mumbling in my Weetbix or wiping copious amounts of slobber from my chin – I haven’t started going loopy – so what on earth is happening?

Up until recently I lived in Chiang Mai for two years. I know the poor hapless Farang is usually about three steps behind what is actually happening around him. The locals have him feeling like King Dick but in reality he is viewed with about the same amount of status as the local village idiot. I lived there – I know these things. But tell me – what the hell could be so hard about a girl sitting down and typing out a bloody assignment? I feel like jumping on a plane and going over there just to get the answer to this riddle.

Nowadays when folk ask me what Princess does for a living I tell them she is a research fellow at the take long time to do the ‘tarp’ school of business!

Asian Ablutions

When I first started my ventures into Asia, a couple of my well travelled friends gave me a slight hint as to what I might expect regarding the toilet scene. All they said was “carry toilet paper with you – there is never any in the loos over there”.

Just on the toilet paper issue – I think I discovered the scoop of the century. I actually found what happens to it. I was initially naive and thought that they had never heard of it or couldn’t afford it – not so. I discovered it in restaurants reinvented as paper napkins.
They pull out the centre cardboard roll and discard that. They then shove it into a plastic dispenser and pull the centre end through the top. Hey presto – paper napkins. My comment is if they can buy it to wipe the top end, why the hell can’t they supply it wipe the other end????

Back to the toilets. I have been ‘enthroned’ on every contraption imaginable – from Koh Penang to Yangon – most of them defy description.

My most memorable sanitary experience was on the boat from Batambong to Siem Reap in Cambodia. The journey itself was enough to leave one scarred for life, without factoring in the ‘dunny’.

I was a bit late arriving to catch the boat so I was allocated to the roof. Incidentally, if you take this journey don’t fall asleep on the roof like yours truly did – I almost came to grief.

As our journey proceeded, the waterway became more and more narrow. On many occasions the captain had to steer the boat near to the side in order to negotiate some of the obstacles, or find the deepest channel. I was snoozing away on top of the boat completely oblivious to this. Suddenly I felt a firm hand on my shoulder shaking me from my pleasant slumber. I heard the Farang saying in a slightly alarmed tone “watch out mate”. My eyes opened just in time to see a huge branch bearing down upon me. I dived down out of the way and just missed getting swiped into the flotsam.

As the captain neared the starboard bank, the boat had gone under a huge tree with an overhanging branch. It happened several times again on the journey – just a trap for young players to be wary of!

However, I digress. The toilet on this baby had to be the worst I had ever been confronted with. The engine was aft of the cubical that housed the toilet. Actually cubical is being kind – it was just a few bits of rusty tin tacked around a frame. The door wouldn’t close properly and the ‘stew’ from previous visits was floating around the floor. I had wondered how people’s aim could be so awry, however I was about to find out first hand!!

The fumes from the nearby engine were being channelled straight into the cubical. The idea was was to leap in, lean against the door and at the same time, disrobe. All the while one had to hold ones breath for as long as possible. Breathing was a health hazard and would lead to dizziness and nausea.

This happened when I first began travelling in Asia. Nobody had told me that you had to take your shoes off everywhere in Thailand. I ended up over there with long pants and big lace-up hiking boots – can you imagine. I should have taken them off before going into ‘action’ – but I didn’t want to tromp around in the ‘stew’ with bare feet.

So here I am trying to balance on one foot whilst taking off my boot. Forgive me for all the details because there is such a thing as ‘too much information’. However certain details are necessary to give the appropriate mental picture.

I had to take the duds right off or they would be getting sloshed whilst I was engaged in ‘action’. As I was strategically balanced on one foot with the boot almost dislodged – the boat gave a lurch to the side as we hit rough waters. I was catapulted off balance and bashed against the wall. At the same time my foot (now minus the boot) shot into the hole where everybody was supposed to be aiming. With the shock of all of this I was forced to gulp a huge gasp of the polluted miasma.

My head was now reeling from the stench of the ‘floaties’ clinging to my socks and the toxins from the diesel fumes. All along I had been trying to hold the door shut but not making a very good job of it. I decided to opt for taking my chances with holding off until I made it to shore. Like a whipped dog I quickly pulled myself together and sauntered out the door – boot in hand. From the collective looks on the faces of the locals I had just provided them with the wildest show on earth. Welcome to ablutions Asian style!#

The most hilarious, bizarre and memorable experience regarding ‘the deed’ was whilst I was travelling in Laos.

I took my life into my hands and boarded the bus from Vientian to Luang Prabang. It is well known that it is one of the steepest most dangerous roads in Asia. Many people have been killed as buses or cars hurtled over the edge into oblivion. I remember reading in the very interesting book called ‘The Ravens’, that there are more unexploded ordinance in the jungles of Laos than there is in Vietnam and Cambodia combined. People are still killed every month in Laos whilst digging up the jungle. So if you do get out of the bus in Laos, don’t go wandering off into the scrub.

I am quite prone to travel sickness, so it was much to my chagrin when I realised I was allocated a seat near the back of the bus. This however would prove to be a great Godsend! The bus had the mandatory basket of chickens and bags of produce stacked up the isle, and I seemed to be the only Farang on board.

The trip started off without event and we seemed to be making reasonable progress as we worked our way up the hills from the beautiful river scenery of Vien Viang.
As the journey progressed a lady sitting about two seats in front of me started vomiting out the window. I still felt very good and was glad that I had taken my ‘Sealegs’ pill. Not long after the first sounds of vomiting had started another lady joined the chorus. There were long mournful groans as every so often they would heave in unison out the window. A few splashes of vomit flicked along the window frame near where I was sitting. The smell was a bit on the nose, but I was still very pleased that I hadn’t succumbed.

When the road finally levelled out a little the bus was able to stop and it was great to stretch ones legs for a minute or two. I was surprised at how unabashed the women were. Many of them just hoicked up their skirts and did what they had to do near the bus. I have seen many men do that in my Western culture, but never women.

We were soon back on board and slowly driving our way up a very steep section of the road. I really enjoyed the journey – just reminiscing about the tranquillity of the place, the history of the Vietnam war and the small villages that were built right against the edge of the road. I guess everything else was so steep they had to take advantage of any space that had been cleared and was a little more flat than the surrounding hills.

I had noticed earlier a guy sitting up the front who was looking a little agitated. Eventually he got out of his seat and approached the driver. Obviously I wasn’t privy to their conversation but I did see the driver shaking his head. The guy returned to his seat and all seemed well for a short while.

Then the guy got out of his seat again and started pacing up and down the isle. He looked very frustrated at this stage and I was beginning to wonder what was going on. I was guessing that he may have asked the driver to stop again but the the road we were now traversing was extremely steep and dangerous – any hope of stopping was out of the question.

Then suddenly all hell broke loose. He charged back to his seat and with one smooth motion worthy of an Oscar nomination he downed his dacks, leapt up onto the seat, thrust his backside out the window and let fly. The technicolour soup shot from his rear end as if by jet propulsion.

Now at this stage, may I take a moment or two to hypothesise? Methinks this dude was a very poor student whilst he had been attending school. I go even further to suggest that he had fallen asleep in class when the teacher was lecturing on Aerodynamics. Particularly the unit on ‘wind factor’ – he was probably fast asleep or daydreaming about flat land or something, HE HAD FORGOTTEN TO FACTOR IN THE WIND!#$%^!

The murky ‘stew’ did a couple of quick swirls then shot back into the window directly behind. There was an almighty shriek as the poor bastard sitting behind him copped the gruesome load in the face. The poor bugger was trying to wipe the offending brew from his eyes as the passengers went into total hysteria. They were all babbling, and wildly waving their arms and gesticulating.

The driver was shouting something at them, but nothing could calm the wildest sideshow on earth. The dude with the diarrhoea had now pulled himself together and was trying to apologise and wipe down the poor bugger who had just got ‘spray painted’.
I guess he couldn’t really help it. He obviously had to answer the call of nature and he only had three options, because it was impossible for the bus to stop. In the bus, do a load in his pants, or out the window. Kind of ‘Hobson’s choice’ – so he opted for the latter!

I was so glad that I had ended up down the back as far away from this horrendous fiasco as I could physically be. The stench started to waft down and fill the bus with a foul miasma that would choke the proverbial donkey.

Fortunately we came to a clearing on the road with a few houses and a verge where the bus could stop. We all piled out holding our noses as we passed the offending area. Buckets of water were soon produced and the two blokes were doused down – along with the bus. I thought the dude with the diarrhoea would be ostracised for such a terrible public faux pas. I guessed he would be strapped to the roof or something as punishment for such offensive behaviour.

To the contrary. We all piled back on board and it wasn’t long before things were back to normal. Folk were chatting, Mr Diarrhoea was fast asleep and the dude who copped the spray painting was chatting to his wife. I couldn’t believe it – it was as if to say ‘this is just a regular occurrence – we all just shove our arses out of the bus window and let fly when the need arises’.

I finally staggered off the bus in one piece when we reached the sleepy little village of Luang Prabang. That would be one journey I would never forget!

As mentioned earlier in this submission, I will be travelling with Princess at year end. Depending on my finances I hope to be away about five months for this trip. Except for coming to Australia Princess has never travelled so I am looking forward to sharing some of my bizarre Asian escapades with her. She has a wonderful sense of humour which has really helped to enrich our relationship. After Cambodia I plan on taking her to Laos. I better tell her to start praying now that ‘Mr Diarrhoea’ is not on board the bus to Luang Prubang!!

Billy Bunter

Billy Bunter’s Asian hi jinks and other misadventures – Part ll

By Billy

September 2, 2007

It is with somewhat timid reservation that I begin the chronicling of the 2nd part of Bunter’s hi jinks in Asia.

Gathering from some of the alluded aspersions cast upon the first instalment methinks that some people have never heard the saying ‘truth is stranger than fiction’.

I have no need or desire to embellish any of the experiences that occurred during my travels. Probably because of the inherent mistrust and dishonesty that prevails in society we have become jaded and incredulous to the fact that somebody would offer such a gratuitous kindness – to the tune of $3,000. Why would I desire to lie about about that? Kind honest human beings still exist today – people who will return a lost wallet, if only for the sake of their own conscience. If you have lost all hope of that then you you have become a walking corpse!

After my ‘welcome’ to Bangkok at the hands of the gun-toting taxi driver, I was beginning to wonder if it would behove one not to linger too long.

My prognosis was further reinforced when I saw the flotsam inhabiting the streets of Pat Pong. They may have thought the last vestiges of decency had been further denigrated by my presence – so for all concerned it was time to move on.

The hair-raising Tuk-Tuk rides and high Hotel prices colluded with my previous notions and helped to spur my energies into organising the appropriate Visa and bus ticket to the border.

I had no idea at the time but my journey was about to be changed forever by a serendipitous experience on the minibus to Cambodia.

When the driver picked me up from my hotel he must have been having a very bad day. He seemed harrowed and jaded and his nerves frazzled beyond compare. He was very rude to me and we had a minor altercation regarding my ticket. I remember thinking that it was unusual to be treated thus in the LOS.

I dived inside the mini-bus in double quick time to get out of the way of this guy’s noxious tongue. Inside I was greeted by smiles from two American dudes. It turned out that they were Vietnam Vet’s and were on their way back to where it all began – in the hope of finding some closure.

They told me that we were on the way to another hotel to get their third buddy. He would be joining them for the trip back to Vietnam and he too was a Vet.

In due course we rolled up to the hotel and out swaggered the most flamboyant looking human being I ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon. His name was King H…. (I should at least try to keep him anonymous) and he was an African American. He was dressed in bright iridescent orange pants and shirt and bright orange shoes. He had on a sailor’s cap with ‘King H….’ written across the front in bright flashing red LED lights.

More on the flashing lights a bit later but suffice to say travelling with this dude was akin to a lard-girl attending an anorexic’s retreat – it would be impossible to go unnoticed.

I was to find out later that everything the King wore was in very bright colours and always matching. They were either bright red, purple, orange or yellow and always accompanied with the flashing hat – what a dude.

Anyhow back to the mini-bus. I forget exactly now what triggered the altercation but one of the American guys had a run in at the next stop with the frazzled driver. He was soon shouted down by the collective clout of our three Vietnam Vet’s. As I had already incurred the wrath of the driver there was an immediate talking point between the four of us – brothers in arms so to speak.

As we were all heading to Cambodia I was invited to travel with the three of them – wow – now I knew things were really going to liven up.

I have since visited Cambodia many times and already have the tickets booked for the next sojourn in December this year. However nothing can prepare the uninitiated for the fist tastes, sights and the olfactory onslaught that is Cambodia.

It was like stepping back in time two millennia, with people pushing huge wooden ox-like carts laden to overflowing. The refuse on the streets, the filthy begging children, the amputees – all framed against the backdrop of the multi-million dollar gambling casino – the contrast could not have been more overwhelming.

After the seeming endless wait and checking of paperwork we finally boarded the mini bus in Cambodia and headed off to our guesthouse in the next town.

After the mandatory showers, courtesies and settling in we were ready for some refreshments and dinner.

Being a non-imbiber I was a great source of increduality to one member of the Vet threesome. He continually tried to ply me with everything from grog, gidgee weed and the copious pieces of marijuana pizzas that they consumed. He seemed incapable of understanding that one could still enjoy oneself in a sober state.

My logic has always been that life is so full of opportunities and amazing experiences that I wish to be fully sober to enjoy them all. Furthermore, now that I am middle-aged, when I look around at the state that some of my mates are in – almost dead because of their intemperance – I am yet to be convinced that the above ‘delicacies’ are worthy of partaking.

After the meal the group enquired as to where any action involving the fairer sex may be obtained. We were all bundled back into the rattly old mini-van and headed off into the dead of night. We seemed to rattle on forever, but finally arrived at an old shack in the country. We were escorted inside and had the choice of a plethora of dolly-babes who – one by one – slowly emerged from the darkened coridor.

One had to be there to fully appreciate the situation and words defy description to portray the collective look on the girl’s faces when they finally spied the King.

Try to imagine the situation. Here we were in some busted-arse town in Cambodia in the middle of nowhere. A place where the brightest thing the locals had probably seen was the wrapping on their tootbrush packet. Then suddenly from the dimness of the night in swaggers the King. Resplendant in his bright iridescent yellow apparel (as I said – shirt, trousers and shoes – all matching), complete with the flashing red LED’s on his hat – ‘King H….’. Oh what a sight to behold!$%&!!

The poor girls thought they had seen an apparition – and a few of them took off in fear back into the darkened corridor from whence they came.

This was priceless to witness, and after much cajoling the Mamma was able to get them back out to stand for selection. The wide eyed stares and giggles from the girls were only matched by the marijuana-pizza fueled, bug-eyes of the King.

One of our threesome was a killer for punishment so he selected two of the giggling Belles to accompany him for the evening. However he was so buzzed out of his brain on pizza I don’t think he would have noticed how many babes he had in his bed.

Being a typical male with red blood coursing through my veins I made what I thought was a good selection, and after much negotiating and price haggling we trundled off, back into the night.

We had some music and social chats back at the guesthouse and the girl who I had chosen to accompany me was stuffing into food like there was no tomorrow. She had said she was hungry and asked if she could eat – I said yes but had no idea she was topping up for the next month.

One has to factor this in when paying for an escort. I was fairly new to this scene at that time (which I will discuss in further detail shortly), however from experience – with these girls – one has to lay all the cards on the table. What your expectations are (do you want her doing naked triple sommersaults from the Chandeliers), what time you want her to stay until, has she eaten, turn your blasted mobile off, don’t watch stupid Thai cartoons for the next three hours (I have had it all) etc etc?? Don’t assume anything or you will be taken for a ride.

When we finally retired together and the evening activites were pursued I realised she had graduated with honours from the wet-mullet school of sex for foreigners. Talk about the star-fish treatment.

As with all business transactions that turn pear-shaped – I bailed out early. I booted her out, wildly waiving my arms and gesticulating chanting the words “me want money back” (nothing like a bit of theatrics to get the message across).

I then went downstairs and told the owner/taxi driver I wanted to take her back and have my money returned. This was going to be an expensive exercise because I had to pay the whole return taxi trip myself but this was a matter of principle (or so I thought).

My American mate told me to shut my mouth and go back to sleep. He reminded me that we were in Cambodia and I could wake up in a ditch somewhere – if I were lucky. However being gungho and feeling that I had been ripped off I continued on my quest.

We trundled back off into the darkness, driving in silence. When we finally arrived it was late and we had to drag the poor old Mamma out of bed. She wasn’t very pleased to see me and after a bit of mumbling through my interpreter I realised I would not be getting my money back.

I started to make a bit of a scene about it and out of the darkness appeared two miserable, dishevelled looking dudes. They looked far from friendly and just stood close – staring at me. I remembered what my friend had said about the ditch so I thought it expedient to shut my mouth.

The Mamma offered to give me another girl – so a hasty choice was made and I was happy to retreat back into the night.

When I finally collapsed into the cot at some unearthly hour – I did not feel in the mood for any nuptial’s. I fell asleep only to be woken an hour or so later. My lady was hungry and said she wanted to go and find something to eat (at 3am???). I mumbled yes and fell back into the land of slumber. She appeared at about the time I was rising, and she said that there was no time for ‘boom boom’.

To add unsult to injury I was hit with the bill from the first girl, and had to pay for her excesses from the previous evening. It had turned out an expensive but very valuable lesson.

I am somewhat ashamed now when I look back and see what a typical dickhead Western tourist I was. When I travel now I am much less contentious and infinitely more patient. I learnt the hard way (which you will read more about in my continuing saga), that if you act like a typical loud, aggressive, rambunctious tourist – it goes down with the locals like a lead balloon. It has the uncanny knack of coming back and biting you on the bum.

On our journey the next day – enroute to Siem

Reap – one of the threesome had a chance encounter with a stranger. He told us with much intrepidation and nervousness that enroute he had the misfortune of sitting next to a representative from a NGO who had, (accompanied by a team for a week), been in our little town.

They had been there with the aim of testing all of the working girls in that area for HIV. He told my now pale and pensive looking mate that over 85% of them had tested HIV positive.

By the look on my mate’s face – the old saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ – was true to form. Perhaps he hadn’t ‘double-bagged’ because he looked a very worried man. I did not pry into his personal details but anybody who has unprotected sex in Asia – particularly Cambodia – has absolute rocks in their head.

To be cont’d

Billy Bunter

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Billy Bunter’s Asian hi jinks and other misadventures – Part 1

By Billy

August 14, 2007

For the uninitiated or those too young to remember, Billy Bunter was a comic book hero in vogue during my childhood years in New Zealand. I remember reading with bug-eyed amazement the wonderful shenanigans that he and his hippo-sized, cake-scoffing sister Bessie used to get up to. Set against the backdrop of a conservative English boarding school – this seemed to make their escapades even more ludicrous and unbelievable.

The two seemed to wallow from one cake-binging dilemma to the next with the hapless principal hot in pursuit.

One could not hope to find a more unlikely embodiment of Billy Bunter in yours truly – but that is without reckoning on family tradition.

I am not a sweet tooth and I am very much on the lean side – most would say skinny. As already mentioned I must be the antithesis of my ebullient childhood hero. To this day I have never been able to fathom why – but that is the name that my beloved family have chosen to lump upon me!

Even more so than the rest of my family, my younger sister solely refers to me as “Bunter”!! Even my innocent niece and nephew have been ‘corrupted’. Each time I visit her I am met with wails of delight from her shrieking kids – followed closely by the Mantra like wail of “uncle Bunter is here”.

It is with that short family sketch that I introduce the record of one of my recent romps in Asia. I am sure my Lard-assed hero Billy would have been put to shame and made to look like an oversized wimp if one were to put the spotlight on the Asian escapades of his modern-day counterpart!!

It all got off to a great start in Chiang Mai – with a miraculous example of the basic goodness of human-nature.

It was the last day of a four day stint in Chiang Mai, and later that day I was catching the train to Bangkok and then onto Cambodia & Vietnam. Earlier in the day I had used the toilet during a visit to my favourite Restaurant/Internet Cafe.

Unbeknown to me at the time I had absentmindedly left my wallet inside the toilet cubical. It had $3,000 US cash inside as well as all of my credit cards, Australian driver licence, important contact numbers etc. To say that it would have been sorely missed would be akin to wondering if John Howard were firmly planted up George Bush’s backside.

I had loaded up on US dollars whilst in Sydney in preparation for the Cambodian leg of my journey. My experience from previous trips was that one gets a lousy exchange rate in Bangkok changing Aussies into the proverbial ‘Greenies’!

I also carried a pouch on my belt with small amounts of local currency that I used for my daily shopping – hence I had no need to use my wallet so I did not realise it was missing. Later that day I went back to my Guesthouse and loaded everything into my pack then headed off to find a taxi to take me to the train station.

Walking on the side-walk I passed the entrance to the aforementioned Restaurant/Internet Cafe. I heard somebody calling my name but basically ignored it because I travelled alone and nobody knew me there. The guy was insistent and called my name again. I stopped as he approached me. We confirmed that I was the person he was looking for. He said he had found my wallet and looked at the photo on my Australian driver licence. He said, as he walked out of the door to leave, he had recognised my face.

To this day I still kick myself that I did not offer him a reward or really say much. I was standing there with my mouth wide open – one moment he was there and next he was gone. Can you imagine the impeccable timing of it all. I had left my wallet there over five hours earlier, and as mentioned, at that stage I did not even know it was missing.

If I had come past ten seconds earlier I would have been gone by the time he came out the door – or a few seconds later I would have missed him.

That is without mentioning anything regarding his unfathomable honesty. I think the most ardent of protagonists for honesty would have been tested staring three thousand green ones down the barrel in a slimy Asian dunny. Nobody watching, not being accountable to anybody, one could have the shoved the goodies in their pocket and I would have been non the wiser.

Not wishing to cast any aspersions on the integrity of the local populace, however one would have had as much luck retrieving the goodies if it had been found by one of them, as wishing that old Garry Glitter wasn’t a ‘kiddie fiddler’!!

With that amazing experience under my belt I ‘floated’ off to the train station. I could not believe that people like that still existed so I knew that ‘Somebody’ was watching out for me that day – in spite of my stupidity!

However, upon entering the train, I was about to get a large dose of reality. My trip up from Bangkok had been wonderful. The seats folded down to a sleeper and being of only average height I was able to stretch out and have a nice relaxing sleep.

I thought that I must have been assigned to the same carriage number and position as my journey up – so by the law of averages I was going to have a great trip back.

My carriage was the very last in line for the journey up. In other words I was the furthermost carriage from the locomotive which did the pulling. However for the return journey they must have just chugged the ‘old girl’ around and hooked it up on what was the last carriage – to drag it back to Bangkok. So I was now directly behind the smelly diesel-spewing engine. Not being the best of travellers I was sick the whole night with the black diesel fumes being sucked into the carriage.

When I finally arrived in Bangkok I felt like I had gone a few rounds with a my ex motherinlaw. My African friend John was there to meet me and take me off to find a room for the evening. He was entertaining me with horror stories of what its like to be so Black and living in racist Thailand – when we met up with two American lads who were heading in the same direction.

We hailed a taxi and all piled in. We insisted that the driver turn the meter on so he willingly obliged. Things were going great and I was chatting to one of the American guys. He was a junior Karate champ from his State and was living in Thailand to train under a Thai martial arts master.

Suddenly our revelries were shattered by the shouts of two angry Thais. We had stopped for the red light and our surley taxi driver had got into an altercation with a well-to-do Thai in a late model Mercedes. Our driver wound the window down and was shouting at the occupant of the Mercedes. With that the driver leapt out and headed toward our car. The taxi driver bent down and started to pull something out from under his seat.

The Mercedes driver saw Mr Taxi reaching under the seat so he shot back to his car, and with much screaming of tyres and revving of engines he forced the Mercedes against the door of the taxi. Mr taxi driver was frantically pulling on his door handle to try and open the door and squeeze out of the gap. He couldn’t get out so he reached under the seat again and out came the gun!#$%^&&!!

I looked over and the karate-expert dude from America was shaking like a leaf and my African mate John was as white as a vegetarian. In retrospect methinks that if Mr World Champion Karate dude was so scared then perhaps I should have been more terror-stricken than I was.

The hilarious thing about this whole escapade was that it was all over in 20 seconds flat. At that very moment the lights changed green, and we all just surged off is if nothing untoward had ever happened. It was as if to say “do whatever you like – even shoot somebody – but if the lights go green then it’s back to business as usual”. I remember at the time pondering some distant perusal of a local Australian newspaper which had the headline “only in Thailand” – I could not have summed it up more succinctly if I tried!

With his limited English the taxi driver pointed under his seat and said “Mafia man – me gun, me gun”. We had no doubts whatsoever that he would have used it if given half a chance!

Welcome to Bangkok!

To be cont’d

Billy Bunter

Attention

The author has requested that his work not be copied, modified or otherwise reproduced.

Love And Assault In Chiang Mai

By Billy

August 12, 2007

Kicking back in Australia now and reviewing this story from the perspective of hindsight – I can look at it more objectively – at the time it was a nightmare.

I took two years off from life in Sydney in 05 and bought a one-way ticket to Bangkok. I visited Cambodia four times during my two years and also had many wonderful experiences in Laos, Burma and Vietnam.

I read often about foreigners who came to grief in Thailand and I always thought it must have been their own fault – being abusive, loud or drunk – just attracting attention to themselves.

After reading this story you will – like me – realize that you can be totally innocent and still get into a lot of strife.

In Feb 05 – when I first arrived in Thailand I spent four nights at the SP Hotel in Chiang Mai. I met a lovely young lady who was doing work experience for the hotel – she was a major in business and was in her last year at University. She may not wish for me to give her name so we will call her Princess.

She could barely speak English but we soon came to realize that we were both Christians and we had something in common. She was the first Christian Thai I had met – as you know they are nearly all Buddhists.

We always kept in touch as I traveled to various countries and I eventually ended up staying in Chiang Mai as my base. She graduated and got a very good job at one of the large banks in Chiang Mai.

She lived with her mum in Mae Rim (spelling), and as she had never had a boyfriend before I was careful to always drive her to her mum’s house as her mum did not wish us to be out late without a chaperone.

On one such occasion, after picking her up after work for a dinner date – I noticed a guy following me into the Top North car park near Tapie Gate. He sort of blocked the way with his car and would not move as I tried to back into the car park. I asked Princess who he was (as she was talking to him by this time) and she said he was a colleague from work. I had never even seen this bloke before.

To shorten a long story this guy started to hang around and some of the times I would go to her mum’s house he would be there. He had befriended her brother and I thought nothing was out of the normal – other than that he never looked very pleased to see me and I thought he was very surly and unfriendly for a Thai.

Princess told me several times that he had asked her out and wanted to be her boyfriend but she told him that she loved me and they could only be friends. She did not see a lot of him at work as he was at another bank branch.

However I noticed more and more that she seemed very nervous and often seemed harrowed. I did not realize at the time but the work colleague had become close friends with the brother and was whispering in his ear that his beautiful sister could do a lot better than being with an older farang – namely him!! They were both putting pressure on her to leave me.

It all started to haat up one evening late last year when she said she had to see her brother and would be late coming to see me after work.

I nearly died when there was a knock at my door late that evening and it was the work colleague. He had his arm around Princess and he knew enough English to say ‘my girlfriend’. She had been crying and I could see that she had been forced into this. It was a very harrowing situation and I did not know what to do. I could only speak a few words of Thai at that stage.

Her brother started pushing her hard and shoving her toward the car. I thought the work colleague was going to assault me – he looked very aggressive. I called out to the security guard in the hotel and pointed to the door (meaning for him to get this guy out). He was not much help and just stood there. He spoke no English, but I thought from the situation he could have assumed what was happening and at least done something.

The brother got very angry when I tried to get them evicted. Maybe I did the wrong thing but they were at my hotel late at night causing a real disturbance. I had no warning (other than Princess acting a bit strange of late) that this was coming. One minute I am watching TV – the next I have these two angry Thais on my door.

The bloke who liked Princess was very aggressive and was pushing himself in my face. I told them all to go and we would talk about it at some other time. With this her brother took a swing at me but luckily the old security guard had finally worked things out and he stepped in between us.

They consequently left and the last thing I saw was Princess getting shoved into the car by her brother.

Princess’ dad was killed a few years ago and her mum is a widow – so I guess in the dad’s absence the brother had taken on the self imposed duty of protector (some protector)?

She rang me at about one o’clock in the morning crying her eyes out and said she did not want the ‘new boyfriend’ and was coerced and frightened.

Fortunately when her mum found out she was very, very upset. I get on really well with her mum and she seemed to genuinely like me. A few nights later she called a meeting for all of us and we met at one of our favorite restaurants.

With Princess acting as interpreter – we chatted about the situation. Mum was angry that the brother had played dad and pushed his sister around. She said if he ever did that again she would remove his stipend for University. She made him apologize to me and that seemed to be the end of that.

I was in Chiang Mai for a few more months and was really enjoying it there and the opportunity to get to know the customs, the people and Princess a bit better.

One evening she came to my hotel after work – as was our routine by now – and as we walked out to my car I noticed old ‘Happy Sunshine’ standing there looking as happy as ever (not). I had not seen him for a couple of months – and Princess said she rarely saw him at work.

They chatted in Thai and she told me he asked where we were going and wanted to come to dinner with us. I asked what she thought about that and she said no. I told her to tell him that and we would be on our way.

He seemed very unhappy and tried to stop me getting into my car. I nudged past him and we drove off. That was my first big mistake.

Princess said to skip the dinner and drive her to her mum’s – we certainly did not want any trouble. As we got closer she told me to drop her off at the yellow taxi that would take her to Mae Rim and I would go back to the hotel.

That is when all hell broke loose. I tried to drive away from the taxi stop onto the highway and he drove his car in front of mine – nearly causing an accident in the other lane. He jumped out of the car and started punching my window. I had locked the door so he grabbed my mirror and tore it clean off. This guy was a total psycho – I am sitting there thinking ‘what have I done to deserve this’!?

Princess – bless her brave heart – stopped the taxi and jumped out. He grabbed her and tried to shove her into his car – she tore free and jumped into my car and I locked the doors again and drove off.

We discussed what would be the best thing to do – as Loony drove close to my bumper all the way. She said to take her to her mum’s house and she would ring and tell her to get the police there as we were expecting trouble.

When we finally arrived (just as I thought) – hey presto, no cops. Just her poor old mum and the dog. At this stage I was wishing I had listened to my dad and learned boxing all those years ago when he tried to drag me off to the gym – I just knew there was going to be trouble.

Not wanting to be intimidated by him or to show him I was scared (I was) I got out of the car as normal and tried to walk to the door. He came up to me and I was telling Princess something to relay to him in Thai and he swung a huge kick at my groin. I have never been kicked so hard in all my life but fortunately it just missed my scrotum and hit the top of my leg. However with the shock from that and the momentum of the kick – I went down like a bag of spuds.

He then spun around and tried to kick me in the head, but Princess and her mum jumped on him like a couple of wounded terriers. It almost sounds comical now – but I can assure you I had never been more frightened in all of my life. If it had happened in Australia – from one of my own countrymen, it would have been bad enough. However multiply that be 5 – being in a strange country with no language and no rights.

The girls pulled him to the ground and he was really hurting Princess – he was squeezing her arm. The three of them were rolling around grappling in the dirt. I grabbed him in a head-lock to restrain him. Princess’ mum shouted at me to let him go and get off the property (ok she has no English, but in times like this fear transcends language – I knew what she meant).

I stood out on the road and he jumped up and was shouting my name and pointing at my car. He was going to trash my car.

Just as he ascended on my car with the two girls clutching onto him – their neighbor was alerted by all of the shouting and noise.

He knew me well and I had waved to him and gesticulated many times. The sight of his beloved friends (Mamma and Princess) being roughed up by a loony was enough to fire him into action. He punched old loopy so hard in the face three times I thought that his head was going to come off his shoulders. I am not an angry or aggressive person by any means but I must admit it was sweet justice watching this guy getting sorted out.

That is what I wanted to do but in a strange country where you never know what the bottom-line is – I thought it was better to be cowardly and stand on the road. I had remembered what the Stickman wrote “never ever get into a fight with a Thai”.

By this time the policeman arrived on a motorbike. Well they said he was a policeman but he did not have on a uniform. Apparently they said there are different sorts of cops but this one did not need a uniform (whatever that meant).

I was surprised to see Princess go over and punch the aggressor in the chest – I guess she was venting her fear and anger and felt safe to do so whilst the cop was there.

I would like to be able to report a happy ending to this scary saga. I wanted him arrested at least and taken away so I could drive back to my hotel (I did not want him following me for episode two). However this is Thailand and things never go according to the script. I had to stand on the road for about 40 minutes while they all gabbled away and gesticulated. The only words of English the cop knew were “don’t wolly – I Policeman” – as he pointed to himself. The more often he said that the more concerned I became!!

I waited over at the neighbors’ place while they continued to talk. Eventually the policeman rode off on his motorbike and the crazed work colleague drove away. Shortly after this the cop came back with a dozen beer and sat down and got drunk with the neighbor!#$%^&*!!!

I sat around talking to Princess and tried to regain my composure. I could not seem to get any answers as to what was going to happen to him, was he being charged and most importantly, what was going to stop him doing this to me again.

I eventually went back to my hotel and had a restless nights sleep. Fortunately I had to go out early the next morning and when I returned the manager of the hotel said that he had been back looking for me.

I had to take this threat seriously. I was in a strange country where I seemed to have incurred the wrath of a lunatic, who was not going to stop. I thought he may be coming back with a knife next time.

My two years’ sojourn was coming to an end anyway and I was leaving to come back to Australia in about six weeks. I decided while I was still safe and well that I would bail out while the going was good. I got a one way ticket to Sydney and left for Bangkok that afternoon.

My car was in Princess’ name anyway – and on the way to the airport we filled out the paperwork for her to sell it. She is a very good honest girl and has since sold my car and deposited all of the money into my account in Australia.

I relate this story to highlight a few points:

#1 – I was amazed that the kindly neighbor got involved. Whilst all of this was going on I raced down the road to try and get some other neighbors to help restrain him whilst Princess and her mum were wrestling with him on the ground. I got the typical Thai response – they did not want to know about it.

Thais generally never get involved if it means any risk to themselves. The neighbor had known Princess since she was a little kid and was like a brother to her. Fortunately he was very big for a Thai – even so he ended up with a broken hand. I paid for his hospital treatment and sent Princess money to buy gifts for the kids.

#2 – In Asia you never ever know the bottom-line. If that had happened in a Western country he would have been arrested and I could have taken out an AVO against him. In Thailand nobody could or would actually tell me what was going to happen to him or what I could do about it next time. I honestly think they didn’t even know – if they were confused I certainly was.

#3 – This third point is more of a rhetorical question. Was I just unlucky or what could I have done to avoid this dreadful situation?

#4 – Don’t think just because you are in the right that the cops will be sympathetic to you. I had witnesses to what had happened – Princess and her mum were victims as well – but still nothing was done. As I said – to rub salt into the proverbial wounds – the cop turned around and got drunk!!

I could tell that Princess did not like him and had done nothing to foster his advances. Princess’ mum rang the guy’s sister in Bangkok (she got the number from the bank) and the sister told mamma that he had had a girlfriend in Bangkok who he really loved. She had dropped him and started dating a farang. The poor hapless foreigner was assaulted by this loony, so I can imagine how he felt. The police in Bangkok made this character leave the area and that is how he ended up working at the bank in Chiang Mai.

I guess the end of the tale is not all bad news. I still love Asia and am looking forward to going back again. I brought Princess for a holiday to Sydney at Xmas time and she really loved it. I have a one-way ticket to Bangkok in December and plan on staying at least three or four months.

As the Thai Baht is not a good prospect up against the AUD at the moment and the USD is very strong against the Aussie, we will probably spend a lot of that time in Cambodia.

I want to see her mum again (who literally put her body on the line for me), so I will fly her down to Bangkok with Princess when I arrive. You can imagine I don’t want to push my luck again and go back to Chiang Mai!!!

Her mum trusts me now and has given her permission for us to travel together – so that is cool.

Cheers and happy travelling.