You experience everything in Thailand (200)
In the series of stories that we post about something special, funny, curious, moving, strange or ordinary that readers have experienced in Thailand, today a story about meeting the in-laws.
From Thai aunts and other things
Thailand, XNUMXs. Until I met my future wife Oy, and the almost inevitable encounter with the in-laws arrived, I had only traveled the well-known tourist paths. So say Bangkok, Phuket, and Pattaya. And thought she had had a solid preparation for a visit to her native village.
Oy's mother lives in a tiny hamlet, near Korat. In an old wooden house, in the middle of the Isan prairie of rice and cassava fields. We would stay there for ten days so that I could meet the family.
Oy mainly wanted to use this sleepover to see her mother again. And a lot of catching up, during evening-filling card games. But no other significant activities. I do. After all, this was a holiday in the Far East, so my motto was: hit the trails, into the avenues. For lack of the better. Like there were bar hanging, beach lounging, and stuffing yourself at Pizza Hut.
But April turned out to be a month in which it is crushingly hot in Thailand. So also in the Isan. Ideas to take a walk in the nearby Thai lanes as a pastime didn't get any further than my own mental drawing board.
Worse, my mother-in-law's house had no air conditioning. The defense against overheating consisted of a few plastic fans, of obscure Taiwanese design. Which I, in an effort not to melt, lay in sports shorts all day. The only significant exercise I got as a result was towards the end of the afternoon, when I went for beer and ice cubes at the local grocer. Who liked to see me come, because he could usually see the bottom of his big blue cooler when I walked out the door.
As soon as the sun went down I installed myself with a lot of cold beer and a full ice bucket on my mother-in-law's porch, and I could finally cool off a bit.
This then transitioned seamlessly into cozy evenings with the family. Seated at a rickety concrete table or simply on the veranda itself, there was a lot of taking.
Not least by Aunt Nabun. A scrawny aunt of Oy. Who possessed the truly uncanny gift of always appearing on the scene at exactly the right moment, and then lining up for a drink. At least, that's how it seemed to me.
Because I really couldn't open a bottle or can in the following days, without my aunt standing next to me, so to speak. While she certainly didn't live within walking distance. How the bony person always appeared in the yard like a jack from a box, as soon as I even thought about consuming a cold chat, no idea. Aunt Natje, as I soon called her, apparently had a very sharp ear or a fantastic nose for free booze. Did clairvoyance run in the family?
The mystery was solved when I learned that Aunt always got a call as soon as I got ready to launch the first bottle cap.
It was assumed in the family that all good should be shared, and certainly the free drink of a Dutch son-in-law to be.
That first night it wasn't just people using the front of the house as a meeting place.
Far from it. Legions of mosquitoes and other insects swarmed around the lights on the outer wall, attracted by the light. Many propped themselves up against those same lights, then fluttered to the ground like tipsy kamikaze pilots, only to be hospitably received by still other beasts. Like a few fat toads, which silently came hopping out of the dark, and swallowed many a mosquito.
The small outdoor table was strewn with mosquito corpses in no time. Some of the burnt survivors still happily tried to do the backstroke with subsequent free exercises in my barley, if I wasn't paying attention. Which forced me to constantly keep a hand over my glass.
That evening menagerie was later supplemented with a number of small geckos and oversized thukkae's that, glued to the wall, also did not go unnoticed when it came to decimating mosquitoes.
Never seen anything like it. A complete zoo, followed by a buffet. Aunt Nabun sat next to me. She was not surprised anymore, and drank her Chang beer with joy. Surprisingly, in fact. I don't know where she left it, because the good person had the figure of Olive after a successful slimming cure.
Auntie would surprise me even more though.
At one point, the conversation at the table turned to eating insects. I happened to know that, because I started it myself.
I had, already getting a bit drunk, asked in my tear-jerking Thai what else was being served here. Except for the well-known fried grasshoppers, and then cicadas. I had also seen that in Pattaya and even tried it once. And thought I could confirm my self-assumed status of a dyed-in-the-wool globetrotter.
Visual education
Aunt nonchalantly picked up one of the long-legged mosquitoes from the table, pulled off the wings and legs, and then stuck the insect behind her molars. 'What,' she added. I looked at it in astonishment. It was clear. I had reached my tax, and was now officially drunk. An old woman who eats a live insect and then washes it away with a sip of beer, that couldn't be right?
Later that evening I asked Oy about it. Aunt Natje nibbling a still living mosquito like the Dutch a Tiger nut, did I see that right? So yes. Aunt had wanted to show me that there was more on the Isaan menu than my samples, and I hadn't asked?
I let this sink in for a moment, as if my creaking brain couldn't place it. The next question that bubbled up was why aunt had pulled out the wings and legs. Eega's answer: 'because they often get stuck between your teeth'. Very annoying feature of this flying snack, it turned out.
Finally I also heard the meaning of the word 'delusion'. Just means sweet. They are nice and sweet, those crane flies. According to aunt.
I took her word for it. And that evening, lying on the bed, I understood that aunt had also shown me something else.
Something that an 11-hour KLM flight never managed before. Namely that I was actually very, very far from home.
Submitted by Lieven Kattestaart
About this blogger
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Lieven Kattestaart (1963) lives with his wife Oy on the beautiful Goeree-Overflakkee.
Works as a harbour master and has been visiting faraway Thailand since 1993, where he met Oy in 98' and persuaded her to say goodbye to the sun and settle in this chilly swamp behind the dikes.
Nowadays we usually spend our holidays in our mother-in-law's Isan home, alternating with some beach time in Pattaya, or getting stuck in a bus or train to visit other and unknown Thai regions.
Intending to move to Thailand with Oy after retirement, both can hardly wait for that to happen.
Hobbies: whenever a spark of inspiration strikes, but usually plagued by writer's block, touching the keyboard in order to provide the beautiful Thailand blog with a new piece, practicing physical activity by means of jogging (in moderation of course), online chess, and occasionally drinking an excellent Single Malt while smoking a cigar of Cuban origin.
Wonderful story, often had the same experiences, but your way of telling is very nice.
Beautifully told and very relatable.
Days lived on bananas and beer in the 80s.
Mosquitoes have not yet been eaten, but frogs, ants and ant eggs, fish head including the eyes, birds, live shrimps in lemon juice,
Everything that moves is edible and fresh.
Fortunately, there are now better dining options for Farangs in Isaan.
A very nice story to read. Thanks for sharing and keep going!
Don't think I personally would last 10 days. Often had enough invitations in the past to go to the family in the north, but always thank you for this. Still too afraid that I wouldn't last without the luxury I'm used to. Especially the lack of hot water, a normal toilet and food that is edible for me hold me back.
By the way, ask me if eating live mosquitoes is good for you. Are they not full of bacteria? Maybe the Thai can handle this, but I think we can get pretty sick from this. Always skip such an insect buffet, not even to try one.
When one gets a little older, it seems to me that it is not advisable to expose yourself to this kind of hardship.
The lack of hot water is quite an ordeal.
I still get the shivers when I think about it.
The lousy food and especially the (laerp luat) raw meat covered in blood was the most serious.
The aunt's eating of mosquitoes seems more like an expression of: look at what I can eat, spoiled Westerner.
I have never seen mosquito eating and have seen the quite primitive sides of isaan.
Eating the rice field rats was a regular occurrence and so were birds shot from the tree with the catapult.
Air rifles work self-made, using a bicycle pump I can remember.
Thailand may have lost many of its old charms, but the food has certainly gotten much, much better. Even in the smallest hamlets the farang can find something to eat.
Nice story . I love your writing style and hope to read more of your stories in the future .
Dear Rudi,
thanks for the compliment. I hope to post another story in a few weeks. Also playing in the Isaan.
Sincerely,
Lieven.
Great to read another story from you. That was a while ago….
I look forward to the next!
Thanks for this story!
Lieven it was great again!!
After three times on holiday with the same Thai lady it was time to get to know the family she thought. Somewhere near Udon Thani. Almost every day with the moped up and down from our accommodation to the family.
The first time I was stared at by the children present as if I came from another planet. They did like the chocolate brought from the Netherlands.
One day plans were made to destroy a wasp nest, in other words 'set it on fire'. Fortunately only the nest and not the shed where it was hanging under the roof. The wasp larvae were collected and served with the meal. These were offered to me with a broad smile. Did I want something? Of course I wanted something, which was appreciated approvingly.
On a trip to the border with Laos, glass shrimp in a sour sauce was served with the meal. It was still swarming in the bowl. After a good shake with a plate on it, I was asked if I wanted some. Of course I want some.
Her mother thought it was wonderful. A farang does not automatically say 'no' to everything offered to him.
Still deserves a little respect.