Naree, a deep look into the heart of a young woman from Isaan

Preface:

After a (very small, but still) number of desperate appeals from blog readers to use fewer words in my stories and to report more to the point, I start this story with the sincere intention of brevity. The theme is also rather serious and does not lend itself, even in my case, to the (quote) 'so-called funny' style that I usually use here to compensate for the inevitable misery in the world that surrounds us all.

I was not really happy writing the following and I predict the same for the readers. But also (or especially) in a democracy the desire of the individual, the voice crying in the wilderness, should be heard. So here it is.

It is a common practice that stories are written down and submitted here by the farang half of the often vividly painted relationships between the Western man and the Thai woman (plus a few variations). That makes sense; Thailandblog caters to the Dutch and Belgian fans of Thailand, but it does always provide a somewhat one-sided perspective and possibly somewhat monotonous stories. Man meets woman and they start a life together and often it goes well, but sometimes it goes wrong and they lived happily ever after, or not. Nothing wrong with that, but essential aspects remain somewhat under- or even completely unexposed.

What follows is therefore the translation and (considerably abbreviated) recording of the life story originally told in the mother tongue of a young Thai woman, who shows from her point of view that there is much more hidden than we Thailand travelers often suspect behind the (usually) cheerful eyes of the voluptuous ladies who usually populate our stories. Not an easy story about an equally uncomfortable life.

The language sometimes sounds a bit Western, but that is probably because it is a story written down for the blog, so not a translation from an existing book, because that book has not yet been written. Read it above all as a piece of (bittersweet) entertainment with words, more than as an in-depth analysis of the psyche of the Thai woman, her male compatriots or the love-craving farang, because the latter (that analysis) it certainly is not.

No one else is judged, criticized or condemned. After all, all the characters are just people of flesh and blood (before they were reduced to a collection of letters in a blog), who struggle with their feelings and problems. With their fears and their doubts, just like all of us sometimes. Nevertheless, the following can be an incentive for the reader to also look curiously behind the shiny mirror image of paradise.

Naree: How it all began

My name is Naree I was born in a small farming hamlet somewhere deep hidden in a remote corner of the great Northeast. There live in our village about 250 people. I am the youngest of 7 children and the only girl my parents had. My father sometimes says that he kept trying until he had a daughter, which he eventually did. There were no more brothers and sisters after me, so I think it was no joke.

My father (and of course mother) owned a piece of land on which different crops were grown alternately. That is better for the soil than always harvesting the same. We had sugar cane one season and corn or rice the next. He also tried other crops, but in the end it remained with those three products. My parents were not rich, but we certainly did not suffer from poverty and had food and nice clothes to wear every day. Of course I was the apple of my father's eye, but my older brothers were not jealous and so I had a nice childhood.

I played with my neighbouring girls in the fields and we swam in the large pond that bordered our village. At the primary school in our village I did my best as a child and because of my efforts I was later able to go to the Mathajom (secondary school ed.) in the city, where I was also able to keep up with the rest, although my parents sometimes had to pay for extra lessons in subjects that I wasn't so good at. At secondary school I enjoyed myself and I made many new friends and boyfriends. After a few years I had to decide whether I wanted to continue studying. I was quite looking forward to it; I liked student life. For my parents and especially for my father it was an even more important choice. No one in his family had ever gone to university, but it wouldn't be easy to take that step. There was quite a bit of pressure on my shoulders. First of all, I had to do everything I could to finish senior high school with high marks, because not everyone could just go on to university to study to become a doctor, because that was my dream. And then of course there were the high costs.

In the past years, my father had always managed to gather the necessary means for this, but often at the expense of their own comfort and usually with the help of my brothers, who all contributed to their little sister's education. But because I always got my way, it was decided that I would simply go to university in Bangkok after my 6 years of high school. It sounded like music to my ears and I was completely ready to put my best foot forward. Away from my familiar world, to my own room in the big city of Bangkok. I found it all exciting, but I dared to do it and I didn't want to disappoint my parents and family. The beginning was actually a lot harder than I had expected, but after a while I started to find my way better and enjoyed the tough life in the capital with my new fellow students and friends. We studied hard and partied just as hard in the weekends.

My parents, especially my father, were worried that I would go off the rails, but I reassured them on the phone and also when I went to visit the North East, which was always a pleasant time, although it never lasted longer than a few days. We did grow apart a bit, or rather, I lost a bit of the connection with my parental home and village. Everything went back to its usual course when I got on the bus back to my room far away and I just picked up the thread there, my own thread.

The worst news ever

Somewhere deep into my first year of college, I suddenly received a terrible phone call. A call that would be the worst of my entire life. I was sitting in my room watching TV after a day in the lecture hall when my cell phone rang. On the screen I saw that it was my oldest brother Chai, who normally didn't call me. He had never been much of a talker, but had always stood silently next to my father and supported him as much as possible in supporting his large family.

He asked in a trembling voice if I was alone and indeed I was.

'I have bad news for you, little sister, and it hurts me so much to have to tell you.' He sobbed audibly on the other end of the line, far away in the Northeast. My heart swelled with fear. I wanted to throw the phone away, but held on to it, shaking. He stammered out after a long moment of silence: 'our little brother Dhep has passed away.' Dhep was my youngest brother and I had the best bond with him of all. He was my friend, my protector, and together we used to get into the most mischief. At that moment, something in me died forever. It was a message I will never forget. Within seconds, I lost faith in my faith and in life. My world completely collapsed. I was so alone here and there was nothing and no one who could take away my pain or even ease it.

I still know, years later, word for word what Chai said next. Dhep had rammed the fruit stall of a fellow villager with his car after a night out with his friends. He was a nice, handsome and popular boy, never drank, had many friends and never did anything crazy. But that night it all went wrong. The owner of the fruit shop had complained to his father and he had then called Dhep to the carpet. That conversation had gotten quite out of hand and father had shouted after his youngest son who had run away and that he was no longer his son. Parents here often say something like that in their anger and usually there is no much thought behind it. However, Dhep took it very seriously and took it very seriously and literally. The day after the incident he was found hanging from the old tree on his father's land. Not a word of goodbye, he simply left this world without us because he could not live with the thought that his father had rejected him.

We scrambled to our feet, broken

I was left behind in faraway Bangkok, broken, just like my five brothers and my poor parents. My father never really recovered from what had happened. Shortly afterwards, he went to chop down the tree himself with his axe, but the death of the 'perpetrator' hardly alleviated the terrible pain and the many accumulated feelings of guilt. I returned to my parents' house for a short time for the farewell ceremony and then had to return to Bangkok and my training. Much too soon, but I had to. My heart was broken forever, but nevertheless I slowly picked up the thread of life again, because I still had a long way to go before I would become a doctor. I wanted it even more now, to achieve my goal in order to honor my dear brother, so that he could look at his little sister with pride from the paradise where he must now be. Things weren't going so well with my parents for a long time and things weren't going so well financially either. My father asked me to find a part-time job in a restaurant or something like that and I applied to Pizza Hut where I was fortunately accepted as a waitress. It was a nice job and it paid well, although I didn't really get rich from it.

The sun returns, but also casts shadows

I soon became good friends with the manager of the branch, who was quite handsome and always treated me better than the other colleagues in his team. I was his favorite, he kept saying, and if he had been "free," he would definitely have considered me as a girlfriend. I had just turned 20 at the time and he was 37. When we went out with colleagues and fellow students, he was always there and before I knew it, I was his mia noi. We were really in love with each other and his love for me expressed itself in lots of attention and small gifts, such as shoes, clothes, but also jewelry and sometimes money, which came in handy for a student. There was always a shortage in that area.

Life in Bangkok was not cheap and at the end of the month the money my parents sent was long spent. After a while I started to have more and more trouble with the fact that he had a steady girlfriend besides me and I asked him to put her aside and choose me completely. He said that he didn't feel anything for her anymore and swore to me several times that their relationship was actually over. He would soon send her away, but something else kept coming up and then nothing happened. That's how half a year went by and my feelings for him grew and grew until I went completely crazy that I wasn't the only love in his life. I finally broke it off by e-mail and asked to be transferred to another branch, which was fortunately approved. There my life as a student continued as usual, but my 'boyfriend' kept haunting my mind. He also kept calling and writing me and one fine evening he was waiting at my door.

Persistence pays off, but we both lose

In tears he threw himself on the ground before me and begged me to come back into his life. Of course I gave in, because it was also my greatest wish. And because he had dumped his girlfriend, as he swore again, I saw the future optimistically again.

The reunion was a big celebration and we both blossomed after being apart for a while. Shortly after, I decided to surprise him with a visit to his apartment. I had bought a simple bottle of wine with my Pizza Hut salary and some chips and other snacks. I knocked excitedly on the door and after a few moments he opened it. When he saw me standing in the doorway, he turned pale. Behind him, his 'ex' was sitting naked on the bed and she quickly pulled a sheet over her bare breasts after she recognized me. I was stunned and let my shopping bag of goodies crash to the floor. The wine bottle broke into a thousand pieces as did my heart. I ran down the stairs, almost stumbling, and hailed a cab and without saying anything, dove into the back, away from this cheater and his fake girlfriend.

I cried for days until my eyes were as red as a tomato and as swollen as a toad's. I looked awful and felt much, much worse. Thoughts of my brother came flooding back and I often considered going after him. I had no one to share my feelings with, but I could not and would not cause my parents any more pain than they had already experienced after losing their son. So I stayed.

My ex-boyfriend didn't stop calling and writing me, but I didn't give in to him anymore, despite my sadness, my pain and my longing. My love for him was far from extinguished.

Love from an unknown world

After another hopeless plea from him, I was sitting alone somewhere in the city centre, near the university, drinking a beer at the bar. I was not exactly the sunshine of the house and was sniffling more than laughing. Suddenly a handsome farang sat down next to me. He did not use the usual bar slogans, but asked me sincerely why I was so sad. I just said 'heartbreak' and he chuckled a little and said: 'then we can shake hands', which we did. We talked the whole evening and decided to meet again the next day. We did have a good connection.

The next day, however, he told me that his vacation was almost over and he thought that was a shame, now that we had just met. I thought so too, but on the other hand I was not ready for a new friendship or even love. Without exchanging information, we said goodbye after a last pleasant dinner and I expected never to see him again. In the weeks that followed, however, I could not completely get him out of my mind and he slowly took the place of my unfaithful ex in my heart.

But there was no future for us, after all he had flown back to Europe and even if he ever came back, there was no chance that we would find each other again. I threw myself into the arms of other men, sometimes for a short fling and sometimes for a few days or weeks, but nothing worked and I always ended up empty-handed and in my head still my ex and my farang from those two evenings. I slowly went crazy and my studies and school friendships also began to suffer from my confusion.

Until about 2 months after the departure of 'my farang', his name was just Norman by the way, I suddenly got a phone call from a girlfriend who worked in the bar where I had first met him. There was a handsome foreigner who asked for Naree. Of course I knew immediately that it had to be Norman and asked her to tell him that I would be there at 9 o'clock that evening. After my shift at Pizza Hut, because I still worked there. We met and I was very happy to see him again. He on the other hand was completely crazy and kept telling me how much he had missed me and how much he loved me. I thought it was funny and let him chat.

Although I still had classes and sometimes had to work in the evenings and weekends, we were often together during the two weeks that he was back in Thailand and we spent quite a lot of time together. We walked hand in hand through parks and in the shopping mall, I sometimes with the phone to my ear and my ex on the other line, for another attempt at gluing. Often really crazy and quite painful. Fortunately Norman didn't understand a word of it, otherwise he would have certainly galloped off. Soon he started fantasizing about a life together in the Netherlands instead and his big plans made my head spin just as quickly. He was really running wild. But he was so in love that I didn't want to burst his bubble. And he was also very sweet to me, very different from what I had ever experienced with other boyfriends.

Farewell is a sweet suffering

When the farewell approached I had to make it clear to him that my life, my studies, my friends and family were in Thailand and that I had never thought about a new future in a far and cold country. But if he wanted we could see each other again in October, when the school year was over and I had more time than this time. It was hard for him to leave after two wonderful weeks together and I had not broken the romance by confessing that I had not spent those two months without him completely solo, even though he asked me about it several times. No, I had been much too busy with school and work, I would lie. Fortunately he did not press further.

The farewell at Suvarnabhumi was painful but bearable, although a few tears flowed back and forth. Fortunately, this time we had exchanged numbers and email addresses.

Shortly after his departure I finally broke down and realised that I had made a big mistake by not accepting his invitation. I sent him an extensive email from the internet shop in the nightlife centre in which I also confessed my love for him and, on second thought, gave in to his wish to come to the Netherlands. I still had to figure out how I was going to make it clear to my parents. That would be a difficult task. They had invested and sacrificed so much for my education that I was ashamed to make my new plan known. Norman was of course only delighted and would arrange everything from the Netherlands: a ticket and a visa for three months, I understood. A nice period to get to know each other well. I had to apply for my passport myself, but he paid for everything for me. Because calling was still very expensive in those years, I went to the internet shop every day to write, long e-mails in my not so great English, but the pretty girl in the shop helped me with all sorts of things and soon she knew our deepest thoughts, although of course we always kept it polite when she read along.

Thunderclaps on the last day

The day of my departure was fast approaching and I was becoming more and more nervous. I had carefully informed my parents of my plans for 'a holiday in Europe' and they had reacted quite calmly, considering the circumstances. The burden of my studies had also become a bit too much for them and they had already sold a few pieces of land to finance their daughter's dream.

The last day before my departure I was still emailing in the internet shop when my girlfriend dropped a bomb on me. Whether I would rather have a loyal or an unfaithful boyfriend. I didn't understand what she wanted to say and insisted on an explanation. She told me that Norman had flirted with her several times when he went to write with his family in the Netherlands when he had been on holiday in Bangkok. I nearly sank through the floor and blinded by anger, despair and sadness I left the shop, into the night and far away from everything. Crying and screaming because my trust in this man shattered completely in a few seconds. Cheating had become a particularly sensitive subject for me because of the mean behaviour of my cheating ex. My initial doubts flared up again in all their intensity, or actually worse; they disappeared and I knew for sure that I would never leave for the Netherlands.

Hours later the internet girl found me half drunk at the bar where I had once met Norman. He had written and begged her all day, even forced me to find her and confess that she had made up the whole flirt story to have him for herself. Norman had threatened to come and see her if she ruined his dream for selfish reasons. I eventually went back to the shop with her and after a few hours of panic I was able to calm the poor guy down and tell him that everything was fine and the trip to the Netherlands would go ahead tomorrow.

The exciting journey begins

When I finally got on the plane, one of the stewardesses suddenly came up to me just before departure and asked if I was sure I wanted to fly to the Netherlands. I was very surprised and what turned out? My ex knew someone from the airline personally and had used that connection for a last-ditch attempt to have me taken off the plane. I stayed where I was, not entirely without doubt, but my decision was nevertheless made for that moment.

Twelve hours later, a frantic Norman was waiting for me at Schiphol in Amsterdam. Enormously relieved that I was there despite all the troubles and smiling in surprise because my entire luggage for three months in the Netherlands was locked up in a small backpack.

I travelled light and had left all the baggage of my old life behind in Thailand, together with my school, my family and my friends. A heavy price. And that price would not make a fresh start in a new, cold and far country with a strange man at my side any easier. My ex kept haunting me in my dreams and nightmares. And also by phone and e-mail. He did not let go of me yet and I honestly did not let go of him either. But in the Netherlands my love for Norman grew and slowly my love for my ex faded. However, so far from home an uncertain future awaited me, full of hidden untruths, doubts and the fear of failure. The fear of ever having to return with nothing to the nothingness I had left behind in Thailand.

Epilogue:

I have not been able to fully realize the reduced length of this piece of life story, but I have successfully suppressed any tendency to be so-called funny. It will delight the more serious types. So a modest success I think.

For the comfort of readers with a somewhat limited attention span, I have limited myself for the time being to only half of what I actually wanted to tell about the life of our dear Naree. And perhaps I have already provided enough information for readers with a creative mind to fill in the rest themselves. Then I will have to curb my urge to create. However, I will spontaneously consider sincere appeals (a single request will suffice) for the creation and publication of part II of the eventful life of Naree. In case of this need, I will try to dig a little further into her brain and memory for the necessary information.

About this blogger

khun Rick

Khun Rick dates from 1959 (currently 65 years old), grew up and still lives in South Limburg. After 40 years in the civil service, now almost 5 years with early retirement. Since 2001 he regularly visits Thailand as a tourist, but met his wife in the Netherlands and can often be found with her at his mother-in-law's in Udon Thani. Traveling together is his passion, eating (unfortunately) too and sports a necessity. And of course writing: used to be serious and now more light-hearted.

Read the latest articles here

Older posts from this blogger

• CultureDecember 2 2024A posthumous ode to the man I never knew
• CultureNovember 29 2024Premiere: To the hospital in Bangkok
• CultureNovember 27 2024The long road to happiness called Thailand
• CultureNovember 25 2024Sara, or how something beautiful blossomed from the rubble of a disaster