The 7-Eleven, the farang, the girl & the postman

No, dear readers, this is not the title of the latest Peter Greenaway film, but a piece taken from real life, an italic about the little things that can make me happy in my personal world.

Not far from our house there is a 7/11 – Where not, I hear you ask and that is not entirely unjustified – Anyway, I consider the 7/11 to be a microcosm of Thai society where all layers of the population , young and old, rich and poor, meet each other between the refrigerated counter and the cash register. Whether this can lead to a better understanding I leave open, but it is an interesting biotope for a curious and observant Farang, which can provide him with an insight into the often complex social relationships, manners and mores of his host country. I could write a book about the conversations that take place at dusk in the small parking lot or on the steps in front of the shop. For the latest gossip, news and occasionally even stilted debates, there is only one address with us and that is 7/11.

I once walked in looking for I don't know what for a long time, maybe something trivial. I got talking to one of the two girls behind the counter. As part of my self-devised integration course, I do that more often, have a chat with the locals. It helps you master the language better and gives you more confidence. And the girl had beautiful, sweet eyes.

When she saw me lingering in my choice for I don't know what for a long time, she helped me with the widest smile possible and ever since then I've been going there every now and then for I don't know what and a chat. The girl with the sweet eyes is blessed with an unpronounceable name, but her parents had anticipated this by calling her Neung as the firstborn. Neung is a paragon of friendliness that far exceeds the obligatory and noncommittal customer friendliness imposed from above.

(Tnature / Shutterstock.com)

Also overflowing with kindness is Anurak, the postman. Every day I hear him coming from afar because the distinctive sound of his sputtering moped rules out any mistake. Even Sam, my headstrong Catalan Sheepdog who cultivates a healthy suspicion of anyone who dares to venture beyond the gates, was soon taken in by Anurak, but perhaps the latter is due to the fact that he sometimes eats kai yang, grilled chicken on a stick. , brings for Sammie…

I readily admit that I have a soft spot for postmen. My grandfather was one. For almost forty years he rode his rounds through wind and weather with his top-heavy service bicycle. He did this in a period when service and service were still verbs. I owe my first name to him, but he was widely known as 'Jan Fakteur' - to the Northern Dutch readers: fakteur is the Flemish equivalent of postman - a nickname he proudly wore. No effort was too much for him and when, after more than fifteen years of loyal service in a small municipality, he was promoted to a larger municipality, a petition was delivered to the postmaster within three days that was signed by almost all residents, mayor and pastor in the lead, to please leave Jan Fakteur in the village. Anurak vaguely reminds me of him because he would also go out of his way to help you.

He only has one flaw, but he shares that with many of his compatriots: punctuality is not really his thing. While I used to be able to set my clock in Flanders, in our street, so to speak, at the moment of the appearance of our trusted postman, that is very different in Isaan. I readily admit that this is not only due to Anurak himself, but especially to his many friends and acquaintances who apparently all find him the ideal conversation partner to have a chat with. Moreover, the extreme temperatures and the exertion expended force him with clockwork regularity to what I will euphemistically describe as 'little drinking breaks' during which his ever-thirsty soul is provided with the necessary refreshment. There is nothing wrong with that in itself, provided that Anurak would limit himself to water, but very often he prefers to consume alcoholic thirst quenchers and this has consequences not only for his use of time, but also for his driving style and service.

Recently I found out that Neung and Anurak have a thing for each other. I had jumped into the 7/11 on a very hot day, steaming with sweat, to enjoy the air conditioning at full blast for a moment. Just when I wanted to take a soft drink from the back of the fridge, I saw them quickly share a kiss and a hug behind the counter. Almost secretly and perhaps unaware that I could see them. When I remarked between nose and lips on a subsequent visit how helpful and kind Anurak was, I saw her sweet eyes light up and her smile grow even wider than usual. Those eyes said proud of her little boy. Sometimes it's really beautiful what you see, if you really start looking at the people...