'Down in the dumps in paradise'
There were days when Jan thought he should have stayed in Bunschoten. Days when the heat beat mercilessly into his skull and the air felt like breathing through a damp towel. But then he looked at the bright blue sky above Pattaya, heard the call of the street vendors, and he remembered why he had stayed. Or better yet: why he had never gone back.
He was sitting on a rickety plastic chair in front of a run-down guesthouse on Soi Buakhao. The sign above the entrance, once bright yellow, had now faded and was starting to peel. So had he, in fact. Jan had come here once with thousands of euros in savings and a carefree smile. Now he had a few hundred baht left in his pocket and a visa that would expire in two weeks. His passport had been in the possession of a friendly but forceful Chinese for a while, who had made him promise to pay off his debt as soon as the money tap started flowing again. Jan knew better by now; that tap had dried up a while ago.
“Hey, Jan! You want massage?” An Isan woman with a forced smile came his way. He had seen her before. Several times, in fact. A hard worker, always looking for clients to help her get through the day. Just like him. He nodded at her and grinned. “Sorry, darling. Not today. Unless you take baht in installments,” he joked, pulling out his empty pockets.
She laughed along, but he saw it; that look of pity in her eyes. Jan had been many things, but pity? No, that was a new kind of hell. One he didn’t know yet, and didn’t want to know either. He watched her as she walked on, into the night. Her silhouette faded in the neon light and a few tourists followed her, like hungry dogs looking for a bone.
“She better hope her visa never expires,” he muttered to no one in particular. His own voice sounded strange to his ears, as if he didn’t really believe the words. Maybe he didn’t. What did he still have to hope for? A ticket home? Ha! Jan had never been someone who saw himself as a returnee. He was a refugee, an adventurer. Or at least that’s what he’d convinced himself of, for years.
He picked up an empty beer bottle from the table and turned it between his fingers. The glass felt cold and heavy. How many of those bottles had passed through his hands since he arrived? Hundreds, maybe thousands. Each one an attempt to forget something, to wash away something that had lodged deep inside him. And yet, that monster remained, a parasite feeding on the remains of his failures.
When he first came to Thailand, it was to find “new happiness”. It was such a typical expat escape: to escape the Dutch greyness and seek out the sun here. Freedom beckoned like a siren to the sailor. And just like the sailor, Jan had not realised that temptation would eventually devour him. He had lived like a king, throwing money around as if there was no end to it. But every night he still walked back to the same bed, sometimes with entertainment for a night, but often alone, and in the morning the hangover was waiting for him with open arms.
The sound of a scooter whizzing past brought him out of his thoughts. He had to do something. Something that wasn’t just sitting here and waiting. Jan stood up, staggered a little – his legs were stiffer than he’d expected – and stumbled out onto the street. He needed money, that was certain. No fuss, just baht. Enough to pay for the guesthouse, get his passport back, and eat something that didn’t come out of a plastic bag.
As he walked down the alley, thoughts came to him like drunken friends. Maybe he could call a friend, someone who would lend him a loan. But then came the bittersweet truth: the friends he had had long since seen through his charms. He had been late too often, forgotten to pay back too often, forgotten to pay back too often.
“Well, Jan,” he said softly to himself, “the jungle is calling.” It was his joke. That he was a modern Tarzan, lost in the concrete and neon jungle. Only he had never found his Jane. He had always been too busy wandering and searching, without really knowing what he was looking for.
At the edge of the soi was an ATM. He walked over, looked at it for a moment as if it might speak to him at any moment, then swiped his card through the slot. He tried to withdraw a thousand baht. No luck. The machine spat out his card with the indifference of a clerk behind a counter. “Insufficient funds.” Those were the only two words he didn’t want to hear. Two words that hurt more than he could ever have expected.
He collapsed on the pavement, head in his hands. In the distance he heard the sound of the sea, like an old song that you no longer know well, but still recognize deep inside. Maybe this was it. End of story. Going back to the Netherlands was not an option, but staying here without money and a valid visa was a dead end.
His gaze fell on an empty beer bottle lying in the gutter. He picked it up and stared at his own reflection in the glass. His face looked old and gray, as if he had long since forgotten how to live. He tossed the bottle into a bush where more trash had piled up and looked out at the horizon. Maybe he should call home after all.
About this blogger
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My age officially falls into the category of 'elderly'. I've been living in Thailand for 28 years - try to do that. The Netherlands used to be paradise, but it fell into disrepair. So I went looking for a new paradise and found Siam. Or was it the other way around and Siam found me? Either way, we were good-natured.
ICT provided a regular income, something you call 'work', but for me it was mainly a pastime. Writing, that's the real hobby. For Thailandblog I'm picking up that old love again, because after 15 years of hard work you deserve some reading material.
I started in Phuket, moved to Ubon Ratchathani, and after a stopover in Pattaya I now live somewhere in the north, in the middle of nature. Rest never rusts, I always say, and that turns out to be true. Here, surrounded by greenery, time seems to stand still, but fortunately life doesn't.
Eating, especially lots of it – that’s my passion. And what makes an evening complete? A good glass of whisky and a cigar. That’s about it, I think. Cheers!
Photos, I don't do that. I always look ugly in them, even though I know Brad Pitt pales in comparison. It must be the photographer, I think.
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We too easily say: it's your own fault, tough luck.
But Kee Nok has written a moving story about The Thailand Ganger, as we often see.
Mostly in tourist areas. They blow their savings/benefits money like it's their last week on earth.
He describes pitiful lonely men, who can converse with a little drink in their system, but once sober they are shy, fearful creatures. They have often burned their bridges behind them, so that their only option is to stay where you are without any prospect of improvement.
How lucky we are not to have to fit in.
Thanks again for the up-to-date account.
Compliments for this atmospheric painting of the sad life of unfortunate Jan. Perhaps sprung from your imagination, but with a truth and reality content that reminds us very strongly that the sun of paradise also casts long and dark shadows on people's lives. Well done FKN.
Thank you, I also appreciate your contributions. My stories can perhaps best be described as realistic fiction, although in some cases they can have an autobiographical character. What is fact or imagination, however, will remain a deep secret, I fear. I consider the use of illeism as a stylistic device that I use from time to time to create a certain distance. I allow myself to take all artistic liberties, since these stories were originally written for personal use only. Sharing my work with the audience of Thailandblog is therefore a small threshold for me. Nevertheless, if you and the readership know how to appreciate these contributions, I will continue to fascinate you, or perhaps tire you, with my reflections on the special Thai life, both before and behind the smile.
I think it's exactly right, the boundary between invisibly processing fiction in your stories, sometimes crossing it on the fiction side and sometimes on the (auto-)biographical. It only adds to the magic. And to the (educational) entertainment offered on our Blog. So as far as I and probably the silent majority are concerned: keep going!
Greetings Rick
Anyone who visits Thailand more often and those who live here know a Jan, who is very enthusiastic and puts his savings at stake too early for an adventure in the Thai hospitality or real estate business without knowing anything about it.
Waiting for a fixed income from AOW and pension can sometimes take a long time, but it is a lot more reliable.
Well written piece with a warning for all Jannen who are thinking about taking the plunge.
I experienced this up close here years ago.
Guy from the UK, actually started out very well, inheritance, a big inheritance, all the estate of aunt 'Truus' who had worn out a few guys and never got worse.
After a stormy infatuation, the man had bought a house here outside Korat and started a company in heavy transport with three lease trucks.
In the beginning, things were going well, my wife ran the business and he looked over my shoulder a bit.
Her daughter goes to a school with English and a 'nice' private car in front of the door.
Welcome to paradise.
After a few years his alcohol consumption increased considerably and gradually the truth came out to the attentive table companion, one of the three trucks was always being serviced by neighbors a hundred meters away, long-term and expensive?
Drivers started to implement their own policy: you don't listen to a woman and certainly not to a farang, saying yes and meaning no.
On Tuesday afternoon I called to ask where he was in Thailand and was told that he was at home in bed.
Lost customer, high costs, loss, turning, etc.
Company closed down to prevent worse, but no benefits or income and at most a year's savings.
After a while of shame and sadness, a sweet woman picks up her old profession again in Pattaya. She is very specifically looking for a client with, according to her, a company with control and a lot of money and the road to closing the old chapter has begun.
A year later, the end of the exercise, my dear wife is going on a short holiday in Norway.
UK man refuses to cut his losses by going home, takes advice from mates, lives in garage of old house, and now does everything on moped.
His real daughter eventually came over on 'holiday' and took him to a holiday location and made it clear in the direction of home [UK], supported by daughter with the reintegration.
He sent an email some time later that he had a house again, a job and some savings and that he longed for Thailand.
I can name two or three more who have gone completely to the financial bottom or are still pumping money into bottomless pits.
Would you please write this email, because your stories are very well written!!
Hope you will publish a lot.
Thank you very much, Jos
Moving story and beautifully written, I personally have not yet met Jannen, but I have only lived here for two years.
reading a movie that is playing before my eyes. Beautiful
Well, and keep in mind that if you are at that stage, you can't count on a single bath from any Thai in Thailand. Not even from those where you may have left or spent hundreds of thousands of bath. Really not even half a bath.