The Thai child. Better or worse than that of the farang (in his homeland)? Draw your own conclusions after reading this (completely true) story. If you only want to read the final conclusion, you can also scroll down immediately. The executive summary is there.
The Thai people all love children (their own or those of others, it doesn't matter at all). That is a truth like a truism, or even like a water buffalo that they also love without exception. In addition, there are a few other things for which they show a lot of affection, but for the moment let us limit ourselves to the love for (their) children.
I am a father and grandfather myself, my wife is 'just' a mother (and of course also a step-grandmother, which is a different kind of bond) but she also generally has a warm heart for young people. I also have first-hand experience with Thai childhood love: my son, born from my first Thai union, was a kind of demigod in his early youth and despite his exotic appearance, he was invariably called Farang Noi by Jan (Chom) and everyone. He himself was not very pleased with that interest, but as parents you naturally enjoy something like that, that confirmation that you have brought something beautiful into the world.
The 100% Thai children can also often be super adorable. There are those smart-looking thin ones and those cute fat ones, who are fed excessively by their parents to meet a certain beauty ideal that they project onto their offspring. Hopefully those 'educators' will come to their senses in time, because I also see many fat teenagers, who look a lot less cute and from a distance seem to be accepted by their clique, but who still radiate an element of unhealthy loneliness. You often see them as young adults with hanging buttocks ending up on a Grab motorcycle. Friendly and also very relevant, but clearly marked and disadvantaged by a childhood that was too rich in food. Thanks to the pampering practices of mom and dad and other well-meaning feeders.
Apart from that, Thai children are usually very polite and sometimes a bit shy, especially compared to an overgrown Farang like me, who only uses strange sounds (English) at them. Their parents often force them to issue a wai to that strange gentleman. They usually act obediently and as a farang you have to answer the greeting (from your wife). Always fun, interacting with young people. We all know that children can also be extremely annoying. Your own, but also and especially that of others, because you did not raise them yourself and instill your own moral values and other non-hereditary qualities.
A specimen of an extremely rude and even violent child came my way this week during my weekly visit to our village market, near Udon Thani, where I always get delicacies to eat 'at home' while watching the TV. Think of those funny paper pyramids containing Pad Thai, chicken in all possible states of preparation, sticks with sticky rice, those typical clumsy Thai spring rolls that they cut to size with scissors, but also and especially counterfeit Little-C profiteroles, with all kinds of cream filling that are disastrous for my figure, but which I cannot skip. Also because I have become friends with the seller. Yes, there is even a real bromance going on, which means that I am expanding more and more and now see 100 kilos as an almost unattainable target or even dream weight. I sometimes tell him (through my wife) that he would have been better off being a salad merchant than a cookie baker, but to be honest, there is no salad that can compete with his sweet, high-calorie baked goods. Great guy, but childless, so he doesn't really fit into this story. Sorry, Toto (his nickname), I will get back to you another time, but for now let's move on with that nasty child.
Usually, due to the heat and hustle and bustle, I walk, slightly physically but also mentally numb and helpless, following my wife through the weekly market, occasionally checking out the stock market or taking a quick glance at a comical T-shirt, which usually doesn't come in my size. is and otherwise at an additional cost, which I experience as discriminatory and makes me turn my nose in irritation at this dual-pricing that is so typical for Thailand. In addition to such reflections, I also have to be constantly on my guard that, with my modest 187 cm height, I do not expose myself to the low-hanging, protruding steel bars that willingly support the tarpaulins of the many stalls. Usually rusty and always pointed, these spear points are bad company for the soft tissues and even the skull.
Suddenly, however, my eyes fell on a cute, thin little boy who I estimated to be barely 2 or 3 years old and who was flanked by his slightly older and twice as heavy sister or niece. Farangs often walk around my market and sometimes we nod to each other, so I was a bit surprised when the shabbily dressed little guy peered up at me rather ostentatiously. I usually appreciate that interest and start throwing funny looks at the starer to break the ice. This little buddy, however, continued to stare stoically and somewhat emotionlessly upwards and seemed unreceptive to my somewhat clumsy attempts to normalize our relationship. Suddenly his gaze went down, towards my calf, where I had had a tattoo done the day before that could not be overlooked because of the shorts, low socks and the size of it. Nice, I thought: an art lover. But even as I thought that, the tiny miscreant kicked the work of art. So literally. Like a young climate activist in the Louvre or the dolphinarium, which is also increasingly under fire because those animals should be free. I was of course taken aback for a moment and swore under my breath in my dialect (some of the swearing may have also reflexively escaped through my throat), but in the meantime the little man stared at me challengingly again, with a look like: 'and now then farang?'
The big sister did not protect me or my wife, because she had already strolled on to the next fish or vegetable stall. It wasn't even a death kick; on Mallorca or in Muay Thai circles the kicking is considerably harder and often with heavier footwear than the worn-out slippers of my new antagonist. But on such a fresh tattoo... I literally felt trampled on in my soul, deeply hurt, even more than the pain, also because I know that in the opposite case the turnips would have been ripe in our favorite holiday country. The internet and Thai news are full of it every day. I just swallowed my frustration for the moment and then explained what happened to my husband. She felt for me. The following week I skipped the market, which I normally only do in case of force majeure. My love for this highlight of the week and more specifically for the Thai child was severely dampened by that cowardly, unexpected kick to my calf and I will need some time to get back to the old level of appreciation and trust in my young fellow man. turn. For the time being in the Netherlands.
Fortunately, I could still rely on a much more positive experience with Thai young people a few months before this unpleasant confrontation. But I'll save that for a possible next time, because for now I don't want to keep the attention span of any readers too tense to avoid stretching. We are no longer used to consuming long epistles, but prefer short and catchy written expressions. I could also have written: 'Child from Udon kicks Farang's tattoo for no reason'.
Same informative value, but hardly interesting reading. Head without body. I chose the happy medium, with some background noise. So here it is.
Submitted by Rick
About this blogger
- Khun Rick dates from 1959 (currently 65 years old), grew up and still lives in South Limburg. After 40 years in the civil service, now almost 5 years with early retirement. Since 2001 he regularly visits Thailand as a tourist, but met his wife in the Netherlands and can often be found with her at his mother-in-law's in Udon Thani. Traveling together is his passion, eating (unfortunately) too and sports a necessity. And of course writing: used to be serious and now more light-hearted.
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Rick, with all due respect, but the text above your article does not cover the content of your story. 'Where is a child better off...?' because a three-year-old brat kicks your fresh tattoo? There are brats of brats everywhere and hey, he sometimes bumps into himself when he kicks the wrong guy in the tattoo. Just be glad it was low...
Jealousy could be a cause, but it must have been talked into him by his old guys who probably have less to do than you and certainly can't afford a decent tattoo. I sometimes heard 'Damn a farang' when I took a bus, probably out of fear that I would try to squeeze into a bus seat that was much too cramped next to the Thai, because for me too, after twenty years of losing weight, gaining a hundred kilos is a big deal. plan from far away….
After all, where is a child better off? Depends entirely on the old man's wallet. The children of the elite are raised differently; They certainly won't kick you in the tattoo, but will run you over under a cool Porsche...
Thanks for your response Erik,
The (funny) anecdote is indeed not about where children are better off.
This is not suggested in the title either. Just a personal experience that should make the reader smile, but certainly does not want to be (really) generalized.
For a moment I was also confused and thought that the writer was asking the question whether a farang child would be better off elsewhere than a child in Thailand, which of course would have to be answered with yes because a Thai child has much fewer opportunities and lives with fewer options.
But no, that wasn't the question, after rereading. Writer asks whether a Thai child IS better or worse than a child of a farang. He does not ask about a competence, or about a behavior, or about the circumstances in which a child grows up, or about the level of upbringing and training. No, he is asking the question about BEING a child of Thai origin in comparison to that of a farang. Of course, such a question is not possible at all. And then I express myself cautiously because otherwise my response will not be posted. The fact that the writer asks that question, even though he tries to build a story with intended hilarity around it, says how despite this weakening he looks at Thai people, how he thinks they treat each other and their offspring, and last but not least how far away he is not from them. So he trudges along behind his wife during a mandatory weekly market visit, does not speak a word of Thai but believes that Thai people regard his English as uttering strange sounds, and fills himself with the wrong snacks in the same breath as he concludes that the Thai youth overfeeds. He does, she doesn't. The whole story springs from misconception, and giving it a jolly twist that justifies a wrong view. Perhaps that boy of barely 2 to 3 years old, immediately described as “a specimen of an extremely rude and even violent child”, realized at a glance that that farang of 187 cm high and almost 100 kg, who was physically and mentally numb and what was idle about needed to be woken up, and what other means does a toddler have at his disposal than his feet? With that kid I wonder what writer is doing here. I would like to say to him: Learn to behave a little more actively, come out from behind your wife's back, and in any case learn to relate somewhat in Thai to someone from whom you obtain the delicacies you value, and mention doesn't make him a cookie-cutter.
Dear Wim,
Thank you for your overly serious response to my very light-hearted comment. Your woke analysis of my existence based on a humorous anecdote is a bit on the unfriendly side and misses the point, but it's nice that as a great human expert you feel you have to protect the Thai people from me.
Beautifully written story. Nice and ironic too. But be careful: you can press where it hurts.
Also in non-tattooed places of readers lacking a sense of humor.
Thank you for your nice response, Rudy. It motivates me to sometimes continue to 'treat' the readers of this blog with statements that are always light-hearted and to more than make up for the often hours it takes to put together such a text. And you are absolutely right about the people who have vinegar flowing through their urinary tract. It's just a shame that they immediately think they have to convert their lack of reading comprehension into bites below the belt. I wish you a nice day Rudy.
You have a certain literary talent and a sharp eye for observation. If you then want to do something with that, it will indeed cost you a few hours before your writing is just ripe enough to be able to enjoy it with relish. And then it lies in the hands of the reader. With his or her perception, in which it is mainly judged whether it confirms one's own right, vision of the world or point of view) and interpretation (in which reading comprehension and understanding stylistic forms such as irony and sarcasm can help). And then you first have to be able to pass the own standards and values of a moderator or woke authors and sensitivity readers. I hope to read a lot more from you!
Well said, Rudy. It will indeed be a matter of perseverance, which in itself is a shame for a bunch of volunteers who really just want to do each other a friendly favor. In my view, moderators must not only be on guard against unacceptable statements by authors, but especially protect well-intentioned authors against the people who, with their negativity, wish to reduce every existing medium to a battlefield of nastiness.
On the positive side: your hopes were immediately fulfilled with yet another unsurpassed written expression on my part. Futile content but beautifully worded again….
Rick answered wisely and mildly
Sawadee crab,
What kind of tattoo did you have made?
Hello Ton!
Your question could well involve unraveling the mystery surrounding the stairs. I really only thought of it when I was about to answer your question. The image runs from ankle to knee and I had it posted to express my love and respect for Thailand, its people and culture (sounds and is a bit exaggerated, but still).
It is a pile of stones on the beach that is supposed to symbolize balance. At the top there should be Buddha under the tree, but because of the positioning on the leg, I and the artist opted for a small Thai house. Looks cute and because I'm a non-believer anyway, I could live with this adjustment. Also and especially because I certainly don't want to offend the Thai admirers (and because it was a big no-no for my good friend the tattoo man).
Perhaps the little kicker wanted no more and no less than to kick over my pile of stones and unconsciously disturb the depicted balance? Just like children like to do. On closer inspection, this now seems to me to be a plausible explanation for his (mis)behavior. What do you think?
Think I might be able to explain it. I read that children with ADHD sometimes exhibit thoughtless behavior, also called impulsive behavior. And also: children with ADHD sometimes have difficulty with emotion regulation. There's not much they can do about that...
For example, if they see a tall stranger staring at them and making strange grimaces, this could easily be the trigger because it provokes a reaction. Or they were raised well and were taught at an early age what to do with strange people who may have the wrong intentions: defend yourself with a kick in the shin or leg was perhaps the advice from home. Bringing some candy or toys for the little boy to the market next time will also help. And you might meet my 6-year-old son at the market: he likes to talk to everyone (English, Thai and beginning Chinese) and also has a soft spot for white noses because they look like his father.
Thank you for your kind response and your thoughtful consideration, Ger.
My wife and I are always looking for people, large or small, who we can give a happy moment with a small gesture. Recently the two of us went to a primary school 100 km away with the car full of surprises and organized a tombola during the lunch break with prizes for everyone, including the 'losers'. Wonderful experience for us, but especially for the kids and the teaching staff who, through our gesture, also saw their daily work extra rewarded through the happy kids. What struck me most was that the 'losers' were also very happy with their consolation prize (some sweets and drinks) and did not look enviously at the 10 winners of the main prizes (pens and writing pads, etc.). A wonderful experience that you will never forget. I can recommend it to everyone. I do not want to encourage the über skeptics to attack me on the destructive social pedagogical effects that such events can cause. Let's just celebrate life as it is.