Diary of Kees Roijter: Since then, Pon's plants have also been sacred to me

For Pon, her plants are sacred and not just a little bit. The windowsill at the front of our house usually has orchids. They are beautiful, it must be said. People often stand there admiringly and ask Pon if they are real.

She's got a bunch of those rotten plants with thorns too; They are called Christ thorns. Every now and then those silly red flowers arrive. Depending on the number of flowers in the plant, we will get a lot of luck again: a prize in the state lottery or something. I've been waiting patiently for 36 years.

There are a few more species that I don't know the name of. There are garlands hanging in it and here and there there is a penny in the pot.

She takes care of them as if they were her children. Don't touch Pon's plants. Is it a bit of culture or is it something from Pon? Don't know. A bit of both. I guess then. I like it; After all, I am married to a Thai. I want to know that too. Well I knew that.

I'll add 1 more for that beautiful lady

It's Saturday, Pon is going to the market. She will soon have to work from 2 to 11 o'clock in the evening. There is always a plant farmer at our market in Hilversum. There are always a lot of people. He's standing on the back of his truck screaming with a plant in his hands. "Cost a snap," he yells.

And then he yells, 'Since you guys look so nice, I'll add 1 more. And all for that kid.' He looks at Pon (he knows his customers). He points at her and shouts: 'I'll add 1 more for that beautiful lady. That's 3 for a dollar.'

So you already understand: Pon came home with three plants. She has to go to work. The plants are placed in a large container of water in the garden. Pon goes to work.

An icy voice says: I'm missing a plant

Pon and I were invited that day by an acquaintance. It was his wife's birthday, also Thai. Since Pon had to work, I didn't feel like going alone. At 8 o'clock the phone rang. A good friend of mine is at that acquaintance's birthday and asks me to come too. He's a fine chap. I decide to go.

I'll call Pon so she knows where I am. I think it's a bit silly to arrive empty-handed and see if I can find something to give as a present. I can't find anything. Then I see those three plants. Bingo, I think, I'll take one of those. I'll buy another one on Monday. Just wrap a piece of paper around it and Kees is done.

I to that knowledge. The plant given to her; she was happy with it. Thais love plants. It's cozy. At a quarter past eleven the phone rings. It's for me, Pon, says the acquaintance. I pick up the receiver and say yes. An icy voice on the other end says, "I'm missing a plant." I say: 'Yes, that's right, that …' and before I had finished speaking, she had already hung up the phone.

This is wrong Kees, very wrong

I know my Thai and know: this is wrong Kees, very wrong. It was visible on my face. My friend asks if something is wrong. I say no. Where I was sitting is about a 10 minute walk to our house. Ten minutes later the doorbell rings. The house is full of visitors. I knew it: that's Pon.

The acquaintance opens the door and Pon thunders past him into the living room. She looks around the room and sees her plant, walks over, takes the plant, turns around and washes away with her plant. No one dared to laugh; I certainly don't.

There were a few more men with a Thai partner. They looked at me with pity, they understood and thought: that Kees will soon be able to laugh when he comes home.

I sat for an hour or so. At least I knew that Pon was asleep. To make her anger feel even more to me, she had taken the Thai roll out of the closet and was holding it tightly. You probably know him, a roll of foam rubber with a cover around it, 4 cm in diameter, 20 cm long.

I couldn't get to sleep. I can tell you that I've had my asshole. Not too little. Since then, Pon's plants have also been sacred to me.

We still talk about it and have a good laugh about it. She then looks at me with that typical Thai look that says: you may be a big guy, but that little woman is the boss. She stands behind me and reads along. I look at her and that look again. It's nice to be married to a Thai.