Thai Hotel

The Death: March 25-29 2006 Sunday I get a couple of messages from Neung. Her mom is still unconscious and opinions vary as to her chances of survival. To me it seems we may be in for a long wait. That evening Neung tells me she has to pay the nurses 500 baht a day to take care of her mom. I have already delayed my flight back to Europe for 24 hours so I tell her to come round here on Monday and I will pay for the nurses.

Monday is marginally uneventful. I am actually able to focus on work. At 8.00pm I get a call from American Express. They have me waitlisted for a Tuesday flight also. Do I want to fly Monday or Tuesday? Maybe it is fate. I don’t know. But a sixth sense tells me to take the Tuesday flight. So I delay another 24 hours. Neung arrives with her stepdad and his other wife (I am vaguely losing the plot now!! Seem to be a lot of wives and husbands in this tale). He is a taxi driver and he is driving her to and fro her mom. They are all fighting and screaming so I tell them to “mai pen rai”, shutup and focus on Neung’s mom.

Tuesday comes and everything is peaceful. I run in the gym, I manage a few errands, my bags are packed. Sunday night I had decided to buy a new business, so I am trying to organize the logistics which isn’t easy. My friendly lawyer responds to my requests by offering to sell me the very business I have already agreed to buy! Well, it’s Thailand! Mai pen rai…again!

3pm I get a message from Neung. It simply says, “mom gonna die. In a taxi.” I call American Express, beg and plead with them and manage to cancel the Tuesday night flight. The best they can do is to put me on a flight next Monday. I say ok, let’s do it and sort the details out later. That done I call Neung and say I will see her at the hospital. She is on the expressway and crying because she just got a call from her sister, Ying, that her mom is dead. Not much I can say now except, “see you there”.

I manage to find a taxi that will take me to Pratumthani. He rapes me for 400 baht. The meter cost is about 280, but I say ok. No time to argue. We get to the hospital and just as I am paying him Neung calls again. My briefcase is in a mess, with my phone, wallet, and a lot of other stuff all out on the seat of the car. I tell Neung to meet me in front of the hospital, pay the driver and get out of the car.

As I walk to the hospital I suddenly think - my wallet. I have left it in the taxi. I run back but the car is pulling off and the driver doesn’t see me. Well, I guess he will find himself 6000 baht and 2 credit cards richer. I am fairly relaxed. My fault. Mai pen rai. Again! (For anyone wanting to understand the concept of “mai pen rai”, please read the blog entry, “Doing business in Thailand: part one”)

I find Neung, tell her about the wallet and she looks at me like, “my mom is dead and you managed to lose your wallet”. Her aunt is less generous. Is the farang trying to avoid paying she asks Neung? Oh well, never mind. I can live with the abuse!

I know that I need to urgently cancel my credit cards but we go to the morgue first. Really it is nothing more than a funeral shop. Various relatives and friends have collected there. It is one hour since Neung’s mom died and already they have bought the coffin or, rather, I have bought the box with the nursing money that if course is no longer needed for the nurses. I go to check out the box and am, well, a little surprised to find Neung’s mom already lying there. It is a funny moment, a very Thai moment I think to myself. Surreal, macabre, weird and yet very practical.

This is not your European funeral parlor. No black suits and sombre expressions from the men at the morgue. More, a collection of young Thai men, dressed like bike riders, watching TV, eating food and smoking. Oh well!

I tell Neung I need to cancel the cards. And then my phone dies. And then her phone dies! Ok I guess it is not our day! So we play “hunt the electricity outlet”. I have a small argument with a lady who is protecting the hot water container but eventually get to plug my phone in. I call Bangkok Bank and eventually manage to cancel my card. I would stress that word, “eventually”.

I don’t have a telephone number for my Swiss credit card and I am not sure 100% which card has gone. So I get one of the girls who works for me to go to my apartment, to find my other cards. I call a friend in Switzerland who finds a bank number for me. And then I call the bank. Press “4″ for English the autovoice call says. I do as I am told. I get through to the German desk. She speaks no English but transfers me to the English desk. Wrong number they say. Ok. I dial the right number. Press “4″ for English. I press “4″ and, no surprise, end up at the German desk again. I do eventually find an English speaker and we cancel the card with minimum fuss. I now realize I have exactly 40 baht (about US$1). So Neung lends me 500 baht. I feel almost rich!

I wander along to the hospital shop to buy some water. Two boys are trying to make a phone call. They can’t reach the phone, they can dial the number, but they can’t reach the slot for the money. So they are jumping up and down to try and get the money in. I put the money in for them, go buy the water and return to the coffin area (can’t think of a better way to describe it).

We decide to go to Rangsit, where Neung’s mother lived, to get various documents. In the car, Neung and her stepdad start arguing again. Apparently he is being very stupid and very difficult. Well, ok but he is also helping and I tell Neung this. And I say to her, whatever he asks, whatever he says, just say mai pen rai! That does kind of get everyone laughing a bit. I am beginning to understand that “mai pen rai” is much more than words. It is an attitude that defines a lot about Thai culture.

We reach Rangsit. The neighbor comes out to meet us. She doesn’t know that Neung’s mom is dead so there is lots of screaming and crying. We go into the house and it’s a little sad because you see a person’s life laid out before you. Neung’s mom had left the house on Friday morning expecting to return as normal. She never did and so her daily life is exposed to us all. I feel that we are intruding on something very private.

Neung goes to find the documents upstairs while Ying sits on the sofa looking at her mom’s photo albums, and then she starts crying. It’s difficult for me to say much. Ying has not lived with her mom since she was a very small girl and she is not in the photos. I can feel her sadness, for her mother’s death of course but also for the fact that she does not appear in her mother’s memories.

I look at the photos myself and I see a life, from young woman to death. She was beautiful when she was young and had the look of a woman at peace with the world. As the years pass you see that peace disappear, along with her hopes. Eventually you see all her hopes expressed in her daughter Neung. The young woman disappears, the person disappears. All the pictures of the last ten or so years are of Neung. It is touching, but sad.

We get ready to leave. I am the only one there apart from the stepdad. He is looking at all sorts of things. I start to wonder whether he is going to take any money that is there. Then I see him with Neung’s mom’s glasses. He picks them up and he traces them with his fingers. He looks through the lenses. He even puts the glasses on. And I begin to understand that, in his own, way, he is very sad too. He is trying to find something, anything that will give him memories of this woman who it would seem he loved.

I only met Neung’s mom once I think. It was 2 years ago when Neung and I were together. We were going to Hua Hin for a few days and Neung’s mom suggested we get her stepdad to take us in his taxi. Ok, it was a way to get money. I didn’t mind so we agreed. He turns up at my hotel 2 hours late and Neung’s mom goes crazy. Screaming at him, beating the taxi! It was a very funny moment. All the way to Hua Hin she was screaming at her “husband”.

Does it mean I have bad memories? No, just memories. From what Neung told me over time her mother was not easy, and maybe not the most generous of people, perhaps even greedy. But I saw the photos and I know where she started. Life may have been harsh to her, life may have made her greedy, life may have made her difficult but she was still a person, with feelings and emotions. Her husband abandoned her. She was forced to give up her younger daughter to her sister because she could not take care of two children. She brought up Neung alone. She fought hard in her life.

We get back to BKK and they drop me off at Saphan Kwai. The funeral will be at a temple nearby. I tell Neung to call me tomorrow and that I will get a new bank card so that I can pay for the service. Both she and Ying are pretty upset by now and feeling all the normal emotions. The neighbor at Rangsit has helpfully told Neung that she didn’t visit her mom enough! Clever thing to say at such a time. So Neung is feeling guilty, saying she was a bad daughter, and so on. Ying is just crying quietly. I say what I can but there really is not much I can do except speak words. We part and I go home.

Wednesday. Time to head off to the Bangkok Bank. Neung calls. The funeral will cost 30,000 baht. Well I have my doubts about this but I will worry about that later. I get to the bank and they tell me it takes one week to get a new card. I am beginning to think the world has turned against me until the teller suggests that if I pay 300 baht I can have a card immediately. I get a new card. I even get a present, probably worth 301 baht! I transfer money to Neung and say I will see her at 6.30pm at the temple.

And there we are. Now I need to go and buy some black clothes! All in all it has been an interesting few days. There has been sadness for sure. There has been humor, strangely enough. There have been some good moments and some bad ones too. Death in Thailand is very Thai! That is not a bad thing. Neung’s mom died with dignity and she will be remembered with dignity too. My part in this is small. To be there. I don’t have to carry any of the grief and sense of loss. That is for Neung and Ying to bear.

Part 3 follows. Original article at http://www.blog.artthailand.net/?p=15

Originally from England, Adam Bryan-Brown has lived in Bangkok for one year having spent many years working in businesses in the United Sates and Switzerland. After graduating from Oxford University, Adam started his career working in public relations.

By the end of 2004, Adam was Senior Vice President Corporate Affairs for JT International, one of the world’s largest multinationals, selling well-known brands including Mild 7, Camel, Winston and Salem.

At the beginning of 2005 Adam set up his first independent company, 2nd AB Associates, a virtual public relations agency. artThailand was created in January 2006 and is his second independent venture. The company is committed to promoting Thai contemporary art across the world.

He is also a published writer and is currently working on a book about his life in Thailand. His main interests are contemporary art and writing.

You can find selections of his recent writing at www.blog.artthailand.net and www.artthailand.net

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Delivery by pick-up truck: July 4
7.30am and I am waiting outside my building with my car and driver. No Neung and no Khun Ying, her sister. Oh well, it’s Thailand so I guess I just have to wait. I get an sms and it seems the taxi they called could not find their place so they are going to be very late. Mai pen rai.

8.15am Neung and Ying arrive carrying 6 large bags of cat food. Hmmm, this is looking interesting. Not quite sure how this one gets explained. We set out for Rangsit. Neung explains about the cat food. Her mother had four cats. The neighbor has been feeding them but ran out of food 4 days ago, so the cats have not eaten. Ok, that explains the cat food well enough!

9.15am we arrive at the house in Rangsit and go see the neighbors. Cats arrive, fast! We give them some food and then they are joined by the neighbor’s dog, who seems to eat cat food as willingly as she eats dog food. Well, it’s Thailand!

We are going to do tambuun at the house. Neung explains that sometimes people do it at the temple but it is considered “luckier” to do it at the person’s house. Something to do with releasing the spirit. I don’t pretend to understand but no problem. I ask when the monks will arrive. Around 11am I am told which, obviously, means 11.30am. everyone is always late here. All the monk’s gifts have been prepared. Money in envelopes, flowers and the usual bucket of goodies - washing powder, toothpaste and so on.

10.30am and the monks arrive. What’s going on here? No one in Thailand is ever early. We’ll get back to this shortly, but it turns out to be about food. The monks arrived, all nine of them, in the back of a pickup truck. Dressed in their orange robes it is a somewhat surreal scene. The strangest pickup delivery I have ever seen! We now have nine monks seated on the floor of the house, with about 25 guests seated all over the place. The rituals begin with an offering of water to the monks. The candles are lit, the string is unwound, we all settle down and the chanting begins.

I can’t be sure but it seemed to me that the chanting was much the same as at the funeral ceremonies. It’s quite interesting to watch and listen. It is melodic without being musical and mildly hypnotic. Hypnosis would have been useful because I was in agony from sitting with crossed legs. My knees are shot from too much running at the gym and I find these very basic sitting postures almost impossible to manage. So, for me, the chanting is an exercise in pain and the constant thought running through my mind of “how much longer”?

A couple of dogs wander in and out as we sit and a little 2 year old girls comes to join us, holding her hands up in the praying position. It’s a very cute scene. She gets bored quickly, as 2 year olds do, and decides to examine and take apart the padlock to the garden gate. Then she decides to try everyone else’s shoes, flip flops, high heels, they are all of equal interest. I find my eyes wandering much more to her than the business at hand.

The chanting ceases and now I learn why the monks arrived early. We are their lunch. I am told that the monks eat twice a day, breakfast and lunch and that they may not eat after midday. They turned up early to be sure that they could get lunch. Well that makes perfect sense to me. After all, this country more than most, marches on its stomach. Lunch is a feast. A mass of different foods. They eat, we wait. Everyone seems happy and there is a lot of laughing from everyone.

I am, of course, the only farang and the object of some attention. Many are asking Neung if I am her boyfriend. She says no, just a friend and that I am gay. Hmmm, ok. Now where did that come from? Neung explains. If I say u are my friend (puan) they will wonder why u are here so I called u my gay friend. Hmm, ok. Why not say I am ur ex boyfriend. No way she says. If I say that I lose face. So the price of not losing face is that I am now gay. Life could be worse!

Chanting resumes but this time it is very brief, no more than five minutes. The monks collect their goodies, climb into the pickup truck and off they go. Formalities are over with. Neung’s mother is now at peace.

Lunch begins for all the guests. We split into two groups. I sit with Neung, Khun Ying and seven other ladies. Most are in their 50s and 60s and I am an object of fascination. They see me struggling with the sitting postures and so, to a lot of laughing, a stool appears and I am told to sit. My cheeks are red but the pain is gone so it’s a good tradeoff. Then the real challenge begins. Am I going to eat the food? Luckily I like Thai food at least as much as kon Thai so the food is no problem for me. They even begin to realise that I speak quite decent Thai.

Everything is going well until we come to the durian mixed with sticky rice and coconut milk. Durian is actually ok to eat but this one is not ripe enough. Sticky rice is not something I enjoy. The mixture all together? Well I manage not to throw up but only just and, of course, the whole group finds this very entertaining, myself just about included. These are all good people. They are having fun. They are being very welcoming to me. It has been a good day so far.

The food is cleared away and we all start to clear up. Neung pays for the food which means, necessarily that I pay for the food. There’s a lot of celebrating and five minutes later what seems like a million bottles of beer arrive. Seems I gave a good tip too! So now everyone really loves us.

It’s time to go, time to perform many wais, to say goodbye and to drive home. Neung is leaving for Amsterdam tonight to spend 10 days with her gay Thai friend and his Dutch boyfriend. She tries to insist that she won’t be spending the entire 10 days finding a new boyfriend but doesn’t sound too credible. Mai pen rai, this is not my problem anymore. If she is happy then I am happy too. She may be my ex but she is still my friend and she has had a tough few months.

The first Thai funeral I attended was for Neung’s mother and it is for her also that I have made my first tambuun. It has been another fascinating experience. The Thai people manage death with a lot of grace, humor, tact and respect. That’s an odd mix of words perhaps but it’s an appropriate mix. I like the way they do this and I like to think that Neung’s mother would have been pleased with what she saw today. I don’t pretend to understand Buddhism or Thai culture, but what I do see I like very much.

As for Neung it has been a difficult time. Her mother was her only family. Her father did not turn up today and has apparently been asking her for money. Her stepfather, aged 75, has been trying to transfer his affections for her mother to Neung herself.

She has been unhappy and she has cried alone a lot. I have not been able to spend much time with her. Today she seems happier than I have seen her in a long time. In part it’s because she is going to Amsterdam but I think it is more than that. She has finally learned to say goodbye to her mother.

Thailand is sometimes truly a crazy place. Crazy but wonderful and so very much alive, even in death. I am privileged to be here.

The end. Original article available at http://www.blog.artthailand.net/?p=17

Originally from England, Adam Bryan-Brown has lived in Bangkok for one year having spent many years working in businesses in the United Sates and Switzerland. After graduating from Oxford University, Adam spent 20 years working in public relations.

At the beginning of 2005 Adam set up his first independent company, 2nd AB Associates, a virtual public relations agency. artThailand was created in January 2006 and is his second independent venture. The company is committed to promoting Thai contemporary art across the world.

He is also a published writer and is currently working on a book about his life in Thailand. His main interests are contemporary art and writing.

You can find selections of his recent writing at http://www.blog.artthailand.net and http://www.artthailand.net

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A long funeral: March 29 - April 2
Like all the best dramas, let’s start by reviewing what has happened. My ex, Neung, has called me to let me know her mom is dying. Little do I realise that I am about to be exposed to Thai culture in ways I could never have imagined. When I closed the last chapter, the mother had died and I was heading off to the funeral.

I arrive at the temple in Saphan Kwai. It is an interesting place, very much a temple for the ordinary man, but beautiful nonetheless. Christian churches are often magnificent architectures but they always seem remote, perhaps forbidding, places for silence and contemplation. Buddhist temples, by contrast, are colorful, vibrant, so very much alive. A collection of monks in their orange robes, street sellers hawking everything imaginable, children playing, dogs barking, car horns tooting. It is a constantly moving stream of human traffic and it is fascinating to see and experience.

Neung had told me to get off at exit 4 of the SkyTrain, which I do. 30 minutes later I figure it is exit 3. No big deal. There are quite a lot of people and, as with many things Thai, it is kind of chaotic. I mean this in a nice way. I genuinely like the Thai way! So I don’t really understand what is happening. There is the coffin, a lot of flowers, a lot of Thai people, and me, the only farang.

4 monks arrive and the chanting starts. This goes on about 20 minutes and then we all break for food. It is rice soup and aroi maak (meaning very tasty). Back to chanting for another 20 minutes or so. I don’t get it but I am guessing they are preparing the soul for moving on. The monks collect their presents - soap powder, sugar cubes and so on. Yes I know it seems weird but it’s very normal. The monks own nothing and rely on the community to support them. It ends so I go up to Neung and ask what now.

Well, no one told me that Thai funerals take up to 5 days to complete. So I end up coming back the next 4 nights. Basically it is the same drill every time. the same drill. The more chanting you have the easier it becomes for the spirit to move on

Night 4 is a Saturday and it’s carnival time. No kidding. We are holding a funeral service in the middle of a funfair. The crematorium is beside the Thai Mobile bouncy castle. We are sited behind a big wheel. There seems to be some kind of bingo contest going on via loudspeaker, and the monks are chanting away amidst screams and loudspeakers and smells and god knows what. The word “surreal” comes to mind again.

This is sure as hell not England! There we would be somber, polite, wearing black, being brave, hushed, solemn, and probably raising our black umbrellas to protect from the inevitable rain. Here, well here anything goes. People arrive, people leave, phone calls are made and received. Dogs fight. Cat’s wander. People eat and drink and laugh and cry and wander and roam. We even have the funeral photos. This really is bizarre. All the family collect together in front of the coffin for the photos to be taken. I am kind of expecting someone to tell me I am at a wedding! You know, I kind of like it. It is all very informal, a bit messy, but it works. I’m thinking to myself that when I am dead I could find this quite a good way to go.

Each night there have been long discussions about money - who has given what, is it enough and so on. Saturday, Neung’s stepdad finally hands over his envelope and I am praying he has done the right thing. Well good for him, he has given 5,000 baht which is a hell of a lot for a taxi driver, and he has not been able to work at all the last week. Stepdad has turned out to be one of the heroes of the week. He has showed he cared, he has done most of the right things and he and I have started to get on pretty well.

Sunday is cremation day. I arrive a little late and find the coffin plus procession going round and round the crematorium about four or five times. So I join in and it is unbelievably hot. Everyone is suffering and sweat is pouring off me. My clothes are soaked in minutes. Eventually the coffin goes up to the crematorium (and yes, the bouncy castle is still there). I am expecting another service but no, the box is simply laid in the oven and then everyone steps up to wai Neung’s mom one last time. We place some paper flowers into the oven and then it is done. Each guest is given a small gift…looks like a posy of some kind, but then I find it is actually nail clippers! Another Thai characteristic.

Now it is all over and Neung is getting upset, which is normal enough. I talk to her a while and then it’s time to go. I go home, pack, go to the airport and fly home to Switzerland.

So what are my thoughts? Well it was an experience, and I am the better for it. I feel that I have seen parts of and things about Thailand that I would not otherwise have experienced. In many ways I feel that the Thais do things so much better than we from the west. Death is not the worst example. I remember the hospital, and the man looking after his grandmother. I remember the young boy looking at me with his wide eyes, saying “falang”. I remember the shock of finding Neung’s mom inside the coffin. I remember the girls from the shop trying to chat me up. I remember the dignity I have seen. I remember the chaos and the sadness. I will ALWAYS remember the funfair at the funeral. Who could not? No one likes death but this was not a bad death.

Someone asked me what was the point of this journal. Good question but there really is no point. It is a record rather than a point. A record of a week in everyone’s lives. A record of a week in my life…an unusual but rewarding week. An affirmation of life as well as death.

Part 4 follows. The original article is available at http://www.blog.artthailand.net/?p=16

Originally from England, Adam Bryan-Brown has lived in Bangkok for one year having spent many years working in businesses in the United Sates and Switzerland. After graduating from Oxford University, Adam spent 20 years working in public relations.

At the beginning of 2005 Adam set up his first independent company, 2nd AB Associates, a virtual public relations agency. artThailand was created in January 2006 and is his second independent venture. The company is committed to promoting Thai contemporary art across the world.

He is also a published writer and is currently working on a book about his life in Thailand. His main interests are contemporary art and writing.

You can find selections of his recent writing at www.blog.artthailand.net and www.artthailand.net

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