The pigs are marching and they are in Thailand. I have seen them with mud clinging to their sides. They slobber on themselves thinking they are the master, all the whilst never understanding that it is merely their urges that drive them.
On one of our first travels to the near-bye regions of Bangkok Cheryl and I visited Hua Hin. This is a place of usual tourist-like goings on in Thailand. There are various places to see and thing to do such as monkey mountain, the beach, and many a place to feast on both local authentic and imitation foreign cuisine. Then there are the pigs. The roaming falangs in search of "love". They come in search of something they have lost, or perhaps never gained, and for some reason they think what they are looking for will be found in a bar.
*falang: Thai for “foreigner”
When walking the various avenues of Hua Hin one cannot help but notice these pigs as they march from one place to another. Most of them are male, in their mid to late over-the-hill status years, and are wanting to fulfill themselves in ways they perhaps never should. Then they find themselves in the land of smiles, amidst the teaky-hut bars full of cheap booze and even cheaper women. Whatever possesses a pig to wallow in the mud I'll never know.
At one point Cheryl and I were eating dinner in a nice restaurant and we saw a white, middle-aged man with his similarly white, middle-aged wife. He had the look a grown Peter Pan might have if he were to suddenly stumble upon the neverland he once left. She on the other hand had a look of reluctance and hidden disgust at the environment in which her husband dared to feign such a Panesque expression. I leaned over to Cheryl and whispered, "What is he doing? Doesn't he know he can trade her in for at least three wives half her age here?" As ridiculous as it sounds, in the context of Thailand, where the march of the pigs is thunderous, this joke came off rather well.
At this early experience of the swine in full swing I felt it was odd but dismissed it as an inevitable consequence of tourism. However, time went on and many other places were visited. It soon occured to me that these pigs were all over the place. They could be found in every cranny in which one might find a bar with cheap women and Thailand is not shy of its wealth of cheap women (and imitation ones too, but that is another blog). After several months of observing this strange culture of falangs behaving badly I resigned myself to the fact that maybe a pig is just a pig and that is the way it is. Perhaps if I didn't look at it I might reserve my cruel judgement for larger crimes against morality. However, tonight Cheryl and I gained a double dose of the pigroast and so here I sit, writing, and roasting the pigs.
Whilst dining in the Bourbon Street Pub off of Sukhumvit road Chery and I found ourselves seated between two such pigs as they grunted through their slop. Pig number one was sitting to our left with a family of Thai's that consisted of the father, the mother, and their two daughters of ages eighteen and ten. The final member of their entourage was a large falang man in his sixties who appeared to be the young eighteen year old's boyfriend. As if this weren't enough, to our right sat a man, also in his sixties who was trying to convince his rather young newly acquired Thai girlfriend she ought to marry him, leave her family, and follow him home to America. This seemed to be the moment for here to make her ultimate request of which I am certain was her motivating factor for being with him in the first place; she wanted money. She claimed it was for her brother, which may have been the truth, however that is not the point I am making. The reason these Thai women choose to allow the pigs to drool upon them and engage in such antics is for the money. Falangs have money and Thai women want access.
The pig on the right pleaded the woman to marry him to which she flat out refused on behalf of her brothers need for her to “work”. Finally, the pig relinquished his offer of marriage only to offer her 100,000 Baht to be with him for a year on top of the 2,400 Baht he had already paid her to be with him for the past week. As romantic as this sounds, the scene was unappealing as one would expect a pig to appear when it appeals to its own sty. This is the romance of the march of the pigs.
If there is a lesson to be learned from this story it is that the love I have for my wife by far transcends the experience of any mere pig and for that I am grateful. I am currently sitting on the throne of a beautiful union, and I hope never to wallow in the mire such as so many around us appear to be doing.
On one of our first travels to the near-bye regions of Bangkok Cheryl and I visited Hua Hin. This is a place of usual tourist-like goings on in Thailand. There are various places to see and thing to do such as monkey mountain, the beach, and many a place to feast on both local authentic and imitation foreign cuisine. Then there are the pigs. The roaming falangs in search of "love". They come in search of something they have lost, or perhaps never gained, and for some reason they think what they are looking for will be found in a bar.
*falang: Thai for “foreigner”
When walking the various avenues of Hua Hin one cannot help but notice these pigs as they march from one place to another. Most of them are male, in their mid to late over-the-hill status years, and are wanting to fulfill themselves in ways they perhaps never should. Then they find themselves in the land of smiles, amidst the teaky-hut bars full of cheap booze and even cheaper women. Whatever possesses a pig to wallow in the mud I'll never know.
At one point Cheryl and I were eating dinner in a nice restaurant and we saw a white, middle-aged man with his similarly white, middle-aged wife. He had the look a grown Peter Pan might have if he were to suddenly stumble upon the neverland he once left. She on the other hand had a look of reluctance and hidden disgust at the environment in which her husband dared to feign such a Panesque expression. I leaned over to Cheryl and whispered, "What is he doing? Doesn't he know he can trade her in for at least three wives half her age here?" As ridiculous as it sounds, in the context of Thailand, where the march of the pigs is thunderous, this joke came off rather well.
At this early experience of the swine in full swing I felt it was odd but dismissed it as an inevitable consequence of tourism. However, time went on and many other places were visited. It soon occured to me that these pigs were all over the place. They could be found in every cranny in which one might find a bar with cheap women and Thailand is not shy of its wealth of cheap women (and imitation ones too, but that is another blog). After several months of observing this strange culture of falangs behaving badly I resigned myself to the fact that maybe a pig is just a pig and that is the way it is. Perhaps if I didn't look at it I might reserve my cruel judgement for larger crimes against morality. However, tonight Cheryl and I gained a double dose of the pigroast and so here I sit, writing, and roasting the pigs.
Whilst dining in the Bourbon Street Pub off of Sukhumvit road Chery and I found ourselves seated between two such pigs as they grunted through their slop. Pig number one was sitting to our left with a family of Thai's that consisted of the father, the mother, and their two daughters of ages eighteen and ten. The final member of their entourage was a large falang man in his sixties who appeared to be the young eighteen year old's boyfriend. As if this weren't enough, to our right sat a man, also in his sixties who was trying to convince his rather young newly acquired Thai girlfriend she ought to marry him, leave her family, and follow him home to America. This seemed to be the moment for here to make her ultimate request of which I am certain was her motivating factor for being with him in the first place; she wanted money. She claimed it was for her brother, which may have been the truth, however that is not the point I am making. The reason these Thai women choose to allow the pigs to drool upon them and engage in such antics is for the money. Falangs have money and Thai women want access.
The pig on the right pleaded the woman to marry him to which she flat out refused on behalf of her brothers need for her to “work”. Finally, the pig relinquished his offer of marriage only to offer her 100,000 Baht to be with him for a year on top of the 2,400 Baht he had already paid her to be with him for the past week. As romantic as this sounds, the scene was unappealing as one would expect a pig to appear when it appeals to its own sty. This is the romance of the march of the pigs.
If there is a lesson to be learned from this story it is that the love I have for my wife by far transcends the experience of any mere pig and for that I am grateful. I am currently sitting on the throne of a beautiful union, and I hope never to wallow in the mire such as so many around us appear to be doing.
2 comments:
Yes that is the way it is in Thailand and many other third world
countries in the World, you can buy
women. This is something that Thai and foriegn men do.
I hope you are not saying that all European men with Thai women are pigs. I am in my twenties, fit as a fiddle and have a Thai girlfriend.
I do agree that seeing overweight
sweaty Europeans holding hands with slim and sexy Thai ladies does look strange but I just do not worry about it like you obviously do.
Hello Kevoz
Thanks for the comment. No, not all are pigs. In fact, I met many falang-thai couples that were very adorable and in love. I was merely taking my stresses out on the pen. Every now and then something hits us wrong in the head and we need to vent. This blog was my venting from observing the pigs in action. I hope I did not offend. I hope you feel free read and comment on other cultural observations on this blog page. Thanks for reading.
Sincerely
Jay Ewert
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