Falang lectures bargirl

A new girl came to work at the Wonderful 2 bar last week. Well, girl, she's 39. She's from around Roi Et. Her name is Sutjai, but now Noi. She was introduced to me on her first night. Not a word of English. That's always difficult, and they ship me with that.

Well, what was she supposed to say? What could she say? Nothing. Now I know how to ask someone's name in Thai, so I started the conversation. She understood that. She was almost mistaken, so that at first I thought her name was Sutnoi, but that was strongly protested.

'French' is almost impossible to pronounce in Dutch for the average Thai. I usually make it Frank of and that will be Flank. This is very close to the commonly used 'farang', which stands for foreigner of the Caucasian (white) race. The first whites who frequently came into contact with the Thai were French, so it's not all that crazy. There are also other theories.

Well, so I am Flank, who obediently predicts the most common sentences in such a first conversation in English in this case. Then Noi repeats it and then I try to give an understandable answer again. And so we happily muddle on. Reviewed the key numbers: 300, for the barfine; 1000, ST with a very nice client; 1500, ST with a less pleasant client; and 2000, the opening bid for LT.

… she may even look sad

Noi doesn't really have a sexy face, and when she looks quietly ahead she can even look sad. It's also not easy if you can't get your words out and are not understood. But she is very sweet and of the exceptionally caring type.

When we have done some shopping at the 7-Eleven in the evening, everything gets its permanent place in the fridge. The plastic bags are meticulously folded and begin to form a small pile in a drawer. The lids are first completely removed from empty yogurt cups, then she places the cups in each other, and the lids are placed in the top cup. Only then do they disappear in the waste bin.

My kicked-out shoes are lined up at the foot of the bed in no time. With loosened laces, because that's how it should be. After asking permission, the pockets of my trousers are carefully emptied, so that the trousers can be taken to the Laundry the next day without thinking. My sweatband gets a soak and a little later hangs to dry on the arm of a balcony chair.

Repeat colours

It's time to rehearse the colours. Marlboro red. Green bottle. orange juice. black sky. White pillow. pink pussy. She remembers almost everything.

'Me little bit English', and she indicates a distance of less than an inch with her thumb and forefinger. Then she increases the distance to as much as two centimeters and says, "Me now!" I give her a well deserved hug.

'You take shower first?', I ask. She looks at me, leafs through her notes, and then the unexpected: "We can shower together."

Well, go ahead then. It is extra dangerous because of the risk of slipping, but she is very careful. She puts one bar of soap aside for 'tomollow monning'. Only when the water has reached the right temperature can I come in. She herself is shivering for a while. Her shyness is disappearing nicely.

Funny thing is that the next morning she comes out of the shower with the bath towel around (no, we didn't stay in the shower all night) and first deftly puts on her underwear before taking off the bath towel.

I have to laugh at that then. And actually herself. When I walk into the bathroom, my toothbrush is ready, with the right amount of toothpaste and the cap is on the tube for the first time in ages.

Ready to go to the breakfast buffet, and this time no open mouth and a gesticulating hand, but: 'Me hungry eat.'

– Relocated in memory of Frans Amsterdam (Frans Goedhart ) † April 2018 –