Isan experiences (2)

The merry days of Songkran are over. The strongholds of the families have returned to their jobs, away from family and friends for months. Most will not return until late September. Debts have been paid, outstanding bills paid, karma for a next life has been collected in the temples.

The Inquisitor, once again driven mad by the media and the interfering expats in Thailand about the traffic chaos that returns with Songkran, wanted to know from the people themselves what they thought about it, what feelings they had. He can now do that without being looked at skewedly or arousing suspicion, many of the young men naturally come to the love's shop, want to see and speak to both her and The Inquisitor. With a beer or lao of course, they are on vacation, they have some money, they also want to enjoy their lives. In their way and The Inquisitor doesn't blame them.

Yes, it was busy on the road. They wanted to come a little earlier, but the employers no longer allow that. Only taking their days off on fixed dates seems to be the new trend. That was sometimes possible in the past, you could come earlier and then return to the job a little earlier, or vice versa. Now they are obliged to all go on the track at the same time. And they have to watch out, there are hijackers on the coast for their jobs. Immediately the conversation becomes a bit more bitter, people start talking at once, The Inquisitor feels the anger, luckily the sweet is patient and she continues to translate the finesse. Men and women who come to work here from neighboring countries, they are all starting to hate it here. Their traditional imperturbability is disappearing on this subject, they don't want it. Especially not because those people are willing to work for a lower wage, the bosses are keen on that and the Isaaners lose their jobs at the slightest mistake.

The result is that almost everyone immediately gets into the car after their last and long day at work. And first make a tour, pick up people who also have to go in this direction. Loading things, things that they have obtained and that now have to go with them. Second-hand mopeds, ventilators, mattresses, ... . Exhausted, they leave for a long ride.

Yes, many accidents on the road. People are tired. Worked for months, saved up the monthly day off so that it seemed endless. And then have to drive at night. Because otherwise we will lose an extra day of travel, it is already so short Luudi, we can only leave for five or six days. The bus? That is expensive, now we all share the petrol, we are cheaper off. Besides, how are we going to bring all those goods?
Hey, Ludiee, do you take the bus when you go out? No, you don't want to either. Why do we have to take the bus?
You know Ludiee, it's also dangerous when you drive past villages. Those motorbikes huh. They swing from left to right across the track. Very dangerous.
Indeed, there are people who have been drinking. They drink every day, they don't stop when they drive the car. Terribly.

The conversation gets a bit stuck, the Isan culture emerges, they don't like to criticize people about what they do. Anyway, it's their business. Sometimes that is difficult when you have an appointment with someone and they come to pick you up, you smell the alcohol. But what should you do? Not riding? How do I get home then? I'll talk to that driver, keep him awake. Stop a lot, eat something. But that is also dangerous. Because there is already a party in the air, we are happy, we are going to see our children, our parents. You are not thinking of anything bad.

Police? Haha, police. They have nothing to do with it except to take money. They are always somewhere in the middle of a long stretch of track. Never where the dangerous places are.
They only slow us down, make the ride last longer. They sell show. No, police, they don't help.
Take away driver's license? Well, I lost my job. Same thing when they take my car. I don't want to cause an accident, nobody. That's bad luck. All those deaths, bad for the families yes. Imagine.

Here, too, the conversation stops a bit. People approach and treat death differently than Westerners, less drama is made around it. Incredible for someone like The Inquisitor, but he is gradually starting to understand that. The Buddhist influences play a heavy role here. Karma, destiny. When your time has come, there's nothing you can do about it. They also say goodbye to the deceased differently than we Westerners. Serene, easier. Assured that the person concerned will now be better off. After all, they have always done their duty, sacrificed, tried to be good, tried to build better karma for the next life.

The conversation has been serious for too long and they want to party. So we do, a spontaneous party erupts in front of our shop. Loud music, placed a barrel outside, opened the water hose. Hoopla, Songkran! Passers-by are showered, anyone who happens to buy something also falls prey. The white powder gives everyone a funny-strange look. Little by little more people arrive, they like this. Regularly someone 'falls' and goes to rest in the shop's bamboo sala. Until The Inquisitor realizes that there are already four men, puts on the water hose and cuts three cans of powder over it. No one who complains, no one who gets angry, on the contrary.
And so it goes for three days, the whole village is in celebration. Sometimes it only starts spontaneously late in the afternoon, another day they are already in the swing of the morning. There are two organized events: a morning when the elders are honored in the temple, and the fourth day. Then it is the traditional tour through the village and the surrounding farms, on foot but accompanied by a few cars that follow at a walking pace, one of which is equipped with a music system. Normally this is the heyday and De Inquisitor was always present. Not this year. After three days of partying, there was a brain-body conflict. The brain wanted to, but The Inquisitor's body said stop.

The day of returning to the job, there are many people in the shop again, soon they will leave again. The cars are loaded. All without exception with a few sacks of rice from their own field. They also have Isaan food with them, whatever they can get over there is without exception less tasty. The atmosphere is a bit more relaxed, nobody likes to say goodbye to their loved ones. Small children hang around the mother as if they sense that she is gone again for a long time. Lovers who found each other sit un-Isan hand in hand, not knowing if the love will still be there in a few months. Grandparents with a resigned smile, experienced in parting but it still hurts.

The Inquisitor now knows that they all have to go back on the job at the same time, the job is waiting. Unless they shortened their already oh-so-short holiday to leave a day earlier. Who does that now, Ludiee? We want to stay as long as possible. How much holiday do people in your country get Ludiee?
Yes, it will be busy again, many accidents again, the police, the deaths. But what should we do now? Not coming to celebrate New Year anymore? Leave everything behind and stay close to the job over there? And the conversation goes back to employers and foreign workers. Because there are a few who come back every year for a few weeks to work on their parents' rice fields. That will cause problems this year. But you can't leave those fields alone, can you? Where do we get our rice from? And the family, what about their rice, the income from it? It is clear that they do not want to be slighted by all those outside influences, they know very well that they are making others rich and being kept poor themselves. Something is brewing. The Inquisitor agrees.

Aom continues to chat, she once lived with an Englishman who has passed away in the meantime, she lived there for two years. She has a slightly better understanding of how farangs think and act and can supplement her Thai with good English. Kun Ludiee, do you understand our life a bit?
The Inquisitor has the guts to say something about all those traffic accidents, drinking and driving.
Kun Ludiee, we hardly think about it. We have so few moments of joy, of pleasure. And we don't reprimand anyone, we're not going to tell anyone not to drink. Everyone does what he likes to do. We don't think about bad things.
“Yes, but what about those other people who die in that accident?”. A long silence.
I don't know Ludiee. That's very yes. Nobody wants that but it happens.
It happens, she repeats.

“Suppose the police intervene more. Blowing up, driver's license gone, car confiscated”.
That would be very, very bad. How can we go back to work then? We pay for that car with the whole family. We need those. If the police can't do that, they'll get in trouble. Because then they will have to buy a lot of cars. Then people will get angry.
They have to make sure we can find work here. Why are there no factories here? We see that too. There in Rayong, Bangkok, … . All new jobs, new factories. Nothing here. You know, can Ludiee, that those people from Burma and Cambodia come to work here up to that. They often have a worse life than we do. But they want to work too cheaply, and so we remain poor.
Aom stares into the distance, in thought, The Inquisitor leaves her. And behold, Isan as she is, it takes exactly five minutes.
Is she happy again? Hey, a beer?

Rob, a kind of brother for love, took eighteen hours to get to Sattahip, De Inquisitor does that in about ten hours on a normal traffic day. It took Et thirteen hours to get to Bangkok, De Inquisitor once managed to do that in six hours. Jaran had an accident, fortunately without any injuries or deaths, but he is stuck somewhere near Korat, worried about his job but he has to get that car repaired on the spot.
Eak was unwilling to return already, he wanted an extra day. Today he received a phone call, just as he was about to leave. He has been fired.