On the afternoon before the book club party, just after I start in on a project with a tight deadline at work, and just before the bosses drop by unexpectedly to negotiate next year’s contract with me, the phone rings and it’s Noi, the new kid. She wants me to know that she has quit the caregiver agency.
It turns out that Jip was her first and last placement. According to the rules of the agency, because Noi didn’t complete a full month on the job, she gets nothing. Can I help? she asks. I tell her to hang on while I go find somebody who can translate for us on the phone. I want to make sure I understand this right.
A woman I don’t know especially well is standing in the hall, and she says she can try. Her English isn’t the best in the office, but it’s lots better than my Thai. She talks to Noi for a minute and confirms the agency policy. I ask her to tell Noi that I’ll call the agency and explain that her work was fine but that she just wasn’t a perfect match for Jip.
After the woman hangs up, she asks about why I decided not to keep Noi. I tell her about a few of my worries. She asks if Jip gets frustrated with other people too. I say yes, sure. I don’t go into great detail. She says, “John, I think you should also examine yourself.”
I look puzzled. For one thing, I’m not sure if her words came out the way she meant, given that her English isn’t perfect. For another thing, this kind of advice is not very Thai. Being blunt here is rare. But she continues and I know I’ve heard her exactly the way she intended. She says, “John, I’ve been watching the email. You are involved in more and more of the work around here. I think you are thinking about other things when you are at home and not thinking about your wife.”
Whoa. I say, “Could be.”
I’ve got a book club party to go home and cook for.
She says, “Not ‘could be,’ John. Sure.”
We talk for a few more minutes, but we don’t really need to say any more.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Hosting
Meanwhile, I was getting ready to host the monthly meeting of the embassy book club. During the eight or nine months I’ve been attending this group, I’ve found most of the dozen or so regulars to be vocal, serious about finishing the books, and very generous with their hospitality. Finally it was my turn to put on the pre-discussion dinner and tidy up the apartment and find enough chairs and that sort of thing.
Keep in mind that with few exceptions, Jip and I don’t entertain. For about the past five years, it’s been overwhelming for Jip to be around lots of people at once. She can’t always tell who is speaking. She doesn’t pick up on the body language. If too many voices bounce around a room at the same time, she has been known to get a little freaked out.
So here in Bangkok we don’t own many plates, glasses, or spoons. Put it this way: if we let dishes pile up in the sink after breakfast, there aren’t enough clean ones left for lunch. Before this club meeting, I loaded up on plasticware from the local supermarket. Then I tried to prepare Jip for the event by talking about the guests (she knew nobody) and the menu (spaghetti). Pretty soon it was clear that I was more nervous about it than she was. A friend suggested that we both might relax if one or two folks from the group met Jip ahead of time, so at least some people would be familiar at the party.
That idea worked slick. Sam and Lesley, who hosted a few months back and live nearby, came over for ten minutes on a Sunday afternoon. A few days later, when the doorbell started to ring, Jip asked, “Is that Sam? Where’s Lesley?” She did her exercise routine as usual, on the rug in the middle of the living room, surrounded by people who paused, mid-appetizer, to admire her yoga abilities. When I asked her if the crowd was bugging her, she grinned and said, “Crowd? What crowd?”
Keep in mind that with few exceptions, Jip and I don’t entertain. For about the past five years, it’s been overwhelming for Jip to be around lots of people at once. She can’t always tell who is speaking. She doesn’t pick up on the body language. If too many voices bounce around a room at the same time, she has been known to get a little freaked out.
So here in Bangkok we don’t own many plates, glasses, or spoons. Put it this way: if we let dishes pile up in the sink after breakfast, there aren’t enough clean ones left for lunch. Before this club meeting, I loaded up on plasticware from the local supermarket. Then I tried to prepare Jip for the event by talking about the guests (she knew nobody) and the menu (spaghetti). Pretty soon it was clear that I was more nervous about it than she was. A friend suggested that we both might relax if one or two folks from the group met Jip ahead of time, so at least some people would be familiar at the party.
That idea worked slick. Sam and Lesley, who hosted a few months back and live nearby, came over for ten minutes on a Sunday afternoon. A few days later, when the doorbell started to ring, Jip asked, “Is that Sam? Where’s Lesley?” She did her exercise routine as usual, on the rug in the middle of the living room, surrounded by people who paused, mid-appetizer, to admire her yoga abilities. When I asked her if the crowd was bugging her, she grinned and said, “Crowd? What crowd?”
And Then There Were Two
Last week started out with me telling the new kid she didn’t need to come back. She wasn’t working out, and even though things could have been lots worse, my gut told me they weren’t likely to get better quickly. I decided to nip it in the bud rather than bring about change by wishing, which I find never works.
So we’re back to two caregivers. One, Puang, has worked about a month with Jip, but it feels like we’ve known her for life. She’s funny and wise and knows just when to push and when to joke. The other, Ya, has been with Jip since the beginning, about fifteen months already. The recent staff turnover has brought her out of her shell a little bit. It seems like she enjoys being the experienced elder.
Until we find a replacement for Noi, the new kid, I’m not as free as I’d hoped to be. Still, letting her go was the right thing for the long term. Jip never said she was unhappy with her, but Jip’s words are no longer always a reliable gauge of how she’s feeling. She’s likely to criticize and praise the same caregiver on the same day.
Her actions usually tell a clearer story. Sometimes recently, Jip has done what we all do when under stress—resorted to strategies that we tried in earlier stages of life. She’ll plug her ears rather than discuss an unpleasant situation, or she’ll bang her fists in frustration if things aren’t going the way she’s used to. I noticed her doing things like that after the new kid’s shift was over. Since the kid has been gone, that stuff has been rarer.
So we’re back to two caregivers. One, Puang, has worked about a month with Jip, but it feels like we’ve known her for life. She’s funny and wise and knows just when to push and when to joke. The other, Ya, has been with Jip since the beginning, about fifteen months already. The recent staff turnover has brought her out of her shell a little bit. It seems like she enjoys being the experienced elder.
Until we find a replacement for Noi, the new kid, I’m not as free as I’d hoped to be. Still, letting her go was the right thing for the long term. Jip never said she was unhappy with her, but Jip’s words are no longer always a reliable gauge of how she’s feeling. She’s likely to criticize and praise the same caregiver on the same day.
Her actions usually tell a clearer story. Sometimes recently, Jip has done what we all do when under stress—resorted to strategies that we tried in earlier stages of life. She’ll plug her ears rather than discuss an unpleasant situation, or she’ll bang her fists in frustration if things aren’t going the way she’s used to. I noticed her doing things like that after the new kid’s shift was over. Since the kid has been gone, that stuff has been rarer.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Fewer Blues
This week we didn’t have another Stormy Monday. Tuesday wasn’t just as bad, Wednesday wasn’t even worse, and Thursday wasn’t awful sad. Since the time last week when Jip threatened to take a vow of silence, we haven’t had to welcome and train a new caregiver. Maybe the fifth try was the charm.
It comes back to me now that when we first came to town, we also had a period of revolving door hiring. So I shouldn’t complain too much this time … except that I no longer can devote all day to finding and coaching people like I could then. And the candidates who bailed out a year ago did so after their first day. This round, they’ve gone through three or four days of tutoring before vanishing.
The newest member of our three-person team shows up 45 minutes early every day and seems eager to learn. Jip described her at first as “a good kid.” Time will tell if she or the other newcomer will ever be as good as the woman who decided, after a year of working with Jip, to go back to school. It takes a while to figure out all the tricks of the trade.
Last Saturday I went out to play. Maybe this Sunday I’ll kneel down and pray.
It comes back to me now that when we first came to town, we also had a period of revolving door hiring. So I shouldn’t complain too much this time … except that I no longer can devote all day to finding and coaching people like I could then. And the candidates who bailed out a year ago did so after their first day. This round, they’ve gone through three or four days of tutoring before vanishing.
The newest member of our three-person team shows up 45 minutes early every day and seems eager to learn. Jip described her at first as “a good kid.” Time will tell if she or the other newcomer will ever be as good as the woman who decided, after a year of working with Jip, to go back to school. It takes a while to figure out all the tricks of the trade.
Last Saturday I went out to play. Maybe this Sunday I’ll kneel down and pray.
Monday, October 02, 2006
How Was Your Monday?
• Had a few false starts in our quest to expand staff and create seamless care for Jip, but by the weekend I figured the new group had come together nicely,
• got my hopes up during my usual 24-hour solo Sunday shift, thinking it was the last one I’d do for a while,
• then Jip was awake more than usual during the night,
• the new caregiver showed up half an hour late in the morning, sounding like the routine was still a little fuzzy in her mind,
• no problem, I said, because the other newcomer should be here any minute, you two can help each other fill in what you don’t recall,
• except that the other newcomer didn’t come, sounding a little sheepish on the phone when I reached her,
• perhaps because she remembered my telling her that if she saw any problems with the job that I wanted to know as soon as she knew so that I could plan,
• but in fact she had tried to let me know early, in the classic indirect way, by phoning experienced caregiver number one to say she was worried about back pain,
• unfortunately caregiver number one figured she’d wait until the morning to phone me, but then slept in, since she’s not working until Monday evening,
• so I got the message direct from the source,
• leaving me two choices,
• take the day off to help out around the edges,
• or come home to find her and Jip both raving,
• the boss was OK with my proposal to telecommute today
• which would have worked fine
• if only the construction noise hadn’t started on the floor below us
• or if only the monsoon hadn’t arrived the moment I hung out the laundry to dry
• or if only the agency hadn’t called to say they were sending over the fifth new person in ten days for training because the back pain was looking like a permanent concern,
• at which point Jip screamed that she didn’t want to talk to anyone except me from now on because she was sick of having to be nice to all these unfamiliar voices…
• got my hopes up during my usual 24-hour solo Sunday shift, thinking it was the last one I’d do for a while,
• then Jip was awake more than usual during the night,
• the new caregiver showed up half an hour late in the morning, sounding like the routine was still a little fuzzy in her mind,
• no problem, I said, because the other newcomer should be here any minute, you two can help each other fill in what you don’t recall,
• except that the other newcomer didn’t come, sounding a little sheepish on the phone when I reached her,
• perhaps because she remembered my telling her that if she saw any problems with the job that I wanted to know as soon as she knew so that I could plan,
• but in fact she had tried to let me know early, in the classic indirect way, by phoning experienced caregiver number one to say she was worried about back pain,
• unfortunately caregiver number one figured she’d wait until the morning to phone me, but then slept in, since she’s not working until Monday evening,
• so I got the message direct from the source,
• leaving me two choices,
• take the day off to help out around the edges,
• or come home to find her and Jip both raving,
• the boss was OK with my proposal to telecommute today
• which would have worked fine
• if only the construction noise hadn’t started on the floor below us
• or if only the monsoon hadn’t arrived the moment I hung out the laundry to dry
• or if only the agency hadn’t called to say they were sending over the fifth new person in ten days for training because the back pain was looking like a permanent concern,
• at which point Jip screamed that she didn’t want to talk to anyone except me from now on because she was sick of having to be nice to all these unfamiliar voices…
Friday, September 29, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Double Revolution
The ouster of the prime minister is still the main topic of conversation, but already the excitement is dying down. One camp seems to see the coup as a pre-emptive strike that averted lots of trouble. In other words, the sense of normalcy we feel shouldn’t be surprising—indeed, it was the goal of the planners.
Another group is disappointed that a political impasse should be broken this way in a democracy. In other words, things may be quiet now, but the root causes of the prevailing low confidence in the country’s direction can’t be addressed by a military takeover—trouble has simply been swept under the rug, according to this view.
In addition to this week’s government turnover, Jip and I are experiencing a revolution of our own at home. The first caregiver we hired, over a year ago, has given notice. I managed to get a couple of replacement candidates to come over fairly quickly, and they’ve both been apprenticing the past few days.
One of them in particular has a great sense of humor and lots of confidence. I haven’t heard Jip giggle as much in one day as I did yesterday afternoon, as I sat in another room and listened to the banter between her, the new caregiver, and the one who’s decided to move on. All three of them played off each other, cracking jokes and keeping the mood very light.
Thais in general think of work as a social activity. I’m hoping to restructure the caregiving schedule so that we end up with three women instead of two, and that their shifts overlap more often than they have in the past. I would also like to retire from my 24-hour Sunday shift, and from grocery shopping responsibilities. If things work out the way I’m expecting, this week’s laughter will echo for a long time.
Another group is disappointed that a political impasse should be broken this way in a democracy. In other words, things may be quiet now, but the root causes of the prevailing low confidence in the country’s direction can’t be addressed by a military takeover—trouble has simply been swept under the rug, according to this view.
In addition to this week’s government turnover, Jip and I are experiencing a revolution of our own at home. The first caregiver we hired, over a year ago, has given notice. I managed to get a couple of replacement candidates to come over fairly quickly, and they’ve both been apprenticing the past few days.
One of them in particular has a great sense of humor and lots of confidence. I haven’t heard Jip giggle as much in one day as I did yesterday afternoon, as I sat in another room and listened to the banter between her, the new caregiver, and the one who’s decided to move on. All three of them played off each other, cracking jokes and keeping the mood very light.
Thais in general think of work as a social activity. I’m hoping to restructure the caregiving schedule so that we end up with three women instead of two, and that their shifts overlap more often than they have in the past. I would also like to retire from my 24-hour Sunday shift, and from grocery shopping responsibilities. If things work out the way I’m expecting, this week’s laughter will echo for a long time.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Around the Water Cooler
Lots to talk about at work yesterday, mostly of the “where were you when you first heard?” variety. The consensus reaction to the headlines, among the Thais in our office, seemed to be “What took them so long? This should have happened months ago.”
Of course my colleagues aren’t necessarily a representative slice of the population. Educated Bangkok people may not feel the same way as the farmers and fishermen, whose numbers far outweigh the city dwellers, but whose opinions may not count as much.
I passed a few other government ministries on the way to mine, and noticed soldiers outside the entrances to each. But the Ministry of Public Health was “guarded” only by the usual traffic cops. Nothing like a coup to let you know how you rate, I guess.
Of course my colleagues aren’t necessarily a representative slice of the population. Educated Bangkok people may not feel the same way as the farmers and fishermen, whose numbers far outweigh the city dwellers, but whose opinions may not count as much.
I passed a few other government ministries on the way to mine, and noticed soldiers outside the entrances to each. But the Ministry of Public Health was “guarded” only by the usual traffic cops. Nothing like a coup to let you know how you rate, I guess.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Coup Day Two
Yesterday was a great day to do errands. Everything felt normal except the small number of people out and about. At a restaurant I popped into for lunch, the staff appeared so glad to have a customer that their attentiveness began to get a bit oppressive. I nearly had to swat them away. The only soldier I saw all day was looking lonely as he sat outside a building that houses the company founded by the former prime minister.
This morning I tried to go for a run at a park where I’ve seen soldiers playing soccer in the past. At the entrance gate I was turned away, even though cars were allowed to drive through. The government ministries are all open again, so I’ll be going back to work.
Far be it from me to speculate about the subtleties of Thai politics, and how this regime change will play out. It may even be harder to get good information here than it is elsewhere, because the local news sources are likely not as complete as those outside the country.
I don’t feel the sense of discouragement that we used to have twenty years ago, working in the refugee camps, when we were told by officials that the camps were closed but given no details about the reasons. Sometimes we could hear the booming of shells in the distance, but otherwise we had very little idea about was really going on.
In Bangkok today and yesterday it was the absence of noise that was unusual. My gut tells me that in the long run, any disruptions caused by the birth of a new government will be felt much more by a small handful of VIPs than by common folk.
This morning I tried to go for a run at a park where I’ve seen soldiers playing soccer in the past. At the entrance gate I was turned away, even though cars were allowed to drive through. The government ministries are all open again, so I’ll be going back to work.
Far be it from me to speculate about the subtleties of Thai politics, and how this regime change will play out. It may even be harder to get good information here than it is elsewhere, because the local news sources are likely not as complete as those outside the country.
I don’t feel the sense of discouragement that we used to have twenty years ago, working in the refugee camps, when we were told by officials that the camps were closed but given no details about the reasons. Sometimes we could hear the booming of shells in the distance, but otherwise we had very little idea about was really going on.
In Bangkok today and yesterday it was the absence of noise that was unusual. My gut tells me that in the long run, any disruptions caused by the birth of a new government will be felt much more by a small handful of VIPs than by common folk.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
No Biggie
At our new apartment we can almost set our clock by the sound of a sala-pao seller, who plies his doughy buns in the street below our window at shortly past 6:30 every morning. Today was no exception, which let me know that things would be business as usual, in spite of the sudden change in government here about nine hours ago.
I first learned of events after returning home around 10 from my usual Tuesday night soccer game. Chao, who works evenings as an editor for the country’s biggest-circulation newspaper, texted me a two-word message, which sent me scurrying to the Internet for details. At that time there weren’t many, as the soon-to-be-former prime minister was still planning to speak before the U.N. General Assembly.
After midnight my boss called a couple of times, first to say that the U.S. embassy would be closed Wednesday (and thus a day off for us too), and then again to report that the ambassador had judged the takeover to be so peaceful that we wouldn’t be getting a holiday after all.
As it turns out, Thai government offices are shuttered, including the Ministry of Public Health, where my office is based, so I’ll be working from home today. Report from our balcony: SkyTrain running normally, highway traffic lighter than usual, no sign of tanks anywhere!
I first learned of events after returning home around 10 from my usual Tuesday night soccer game. Chao, who works evenings as an editor for the country’s biggest-circulation newspaper, texted me a two-word message, which sent me scurrying to the Internet for details. At that time there weren’t many, as the soon-to-be-former prime minister was still planning to speak before the U.N. General Assembly.
After midnight my boss called a couple of times, first to say that the U.S. embassy would be closed Wednesday (and thus a day off for us too), and then again to report that the ambassador had judged the takeover to be so peaceful that we wouldn’t be getting a holiday after all.
As it turns out, Thai government offices are shuttered, including the Ministry of Public Health, where my office is based, so I’ll be working from home today. Report from our balcony: SkyTrain running normally, highway traffic lighter than usual, no sign of tanks anywhere!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Jip's Night Out
You first have to know how ornery Jip can get these days over the small stuff, in order to appreciate my joy at seeing her guffaw last night at her brother’s wedding reception. We were surrounded by party noises and strange smells that normally would have caused her to complain, but at this event her radar was apparently turned off, or at least disabled by the nice welcome she received from family and friends.
Her uncle, a jolly fellow whom we haven’t seen for several years, sought Jip out amidst the crowd at the restaurant, and soon had her in stitches. On hearing his voice, she initially put her hands together at eye level in a traditional Thai wai, or greeting of respect. I hadn’t seen her do that for anyone else throughout the fifteen-plus months we’ve been in the country.
He waved away such formality by urging her to reach out and feel his belly, which has expanded a little during his retirement. The two of them then traded news of various cousins, leading Jip to bust up over private jokes that I couldn’t follow. Soon Lek’s father came around to say hello—Jip had never met him, but was pleased to be introduced, because I had brought back such a nice report about the welcome he gave us all at the wedding in the countryside last month.
Each time that I thought to myself that perhaps we had overstayed—as when a waitress dropped a tray, or when someone suggested that we move indoors and away from the river, to where we could hear the live band—Jip took things in stride and simply smiled, rather than wrinkling up her forehead in the expression that I’ve come to recognize as the precursor to a mood swing.
Right up until the time we left by taxi for the short ride to the party, I half expected Jip to say that she had changed her mind and wasn’t interested. But apparently her feelings for Chao and Lek carried the day, or at least overrode the concern she had expressed earlier in the day that “people will be drinking beer there!”
In the end we hung out for about twice as long as I had expected we would. Jip was fawned over by Lek’s sisters and by her niece. Nothing seemed to rattle her, not even when, on the way home, our taxi driver reached over to reline her seat and it zipped backward much faster than anyone expected. She just laughed again, and I remembered how sweet it is to hear that sound.
Her uncle, a jolly fellow whom we haven’t seen for several years, sought Jip out amidst the crowd at the restaurant, and soon had her in stitches. On hearing his voice, she initially put her hands together at eye level in a traditional Thai wai, or greeting of respect. I hadn’t seen her do that for anyone else throughout the fifteen-plus months we’ve been in the country.
He waved away such formality by urging her to reach out and feel his belly, which has expanded a little during his retirement. The two of them then traded news of various cousins, leading Jip to bust up over private jokes that I couldn’t follow. Soon Lek’s father came around to say hello—Jip had never met him, but was pleased to be introduced, because I had brought back such a nice report about the welcome he gave us all at the wedding in the countryside last month.
Each time that I thought to myself that perhaps we had overstayed—as when a waitress dropped a tray, or when someone suggested that we move indoors and away from the river, to where we could hear the live band—Jip took things in stride and simply smiled, rather than wrinkling up her forehead in the expression that I’ve come to recognize as the precursor to a mood swing.
Right up until the time we left by taxi for the short ride to the party, I half expected Jip to say that she had changed her mind and wasn’t interested. But apparently her feelings for Chao and Lek carried the day, or at least overrode the concern she had expressed earlier in the day that “people will be drinking beer there!”
In the end we hung out for about twice as long as I had expected we would. Jip was fawned over by Lek’s sisters and by her niece. Nothing seemed to rattle her, not even when, on the way home, our taxi driver reached over to reline her seat and it zipped backward much faster than anyone expected. She just laughed again, and I remembered how sweet it is to hear that sound.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
High-end Living
Now that we’ve been here a few days, it seems like a really good deal. Once again we’re living pretty large. I had missed some of the details initially, while I was focused on door widths, waling around with a tape measure. But now I see how well everything works in this place, how luxurious it is, and what a nice view it has.
It seems that the previous owner of this place had been a wealthy retired businessman. He apparently had some stiff limbs, which explains the multiple bathtubs; and a fondness for video, thus the windowless in-home theater room, complete with padded walls. But he also must have been a bit paranoid … would you believe there are hidden cameras and bulletproof glass?
So at best we’re well protected, and at worse we’re under constant surveillance. The main thing for me is that Jip hasn’t said anything negative. At our old place she had a few pet peeves that she couldn’t let go of; now, she either hasn’t had time to invent any complaints, or the air and the lack of construction noise at night truly are better.
Why not come see for yourself?
It seems that the previous owner of this place had been a wealthy retired businessman. He apparently had some stiff limbs, which explains the multiple bathtubs; and a fondness for video, thus the windowless in-home theater room, complete with padded walls. But he also must have been a bit paranoid … would you believe there are hidden cameras and bulletproof glass?
So at best we’re well protected, and at worse we’re under constant surveillance. The main thing for me is that Jip hasn’t said anything negative. At our old place she had a few pet peeves that she couldn’t let go of; now, she either hasn’t had time to invent any complaints, or the air and the lack of construction noise at night truly are better. Why not come see for yourself?
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Apartment Hunting
The deal here is you have to live nearby where you work. Bangkok traffic is so unforgiving that any other arrangement is a recipe for stress.
Yet Jip and I have a few unusual housing requirements, which turned out to be hard to meet near the Ministry of Public Health. Our specs include wide doors and deep elevators. The standard measurements here are often too tight for a wheelchair, except in a few buildings that maybe were constructed with foreigners in mind.
We also wanted a three bedroom place, because it has worked well this past year to have a room for the caregivers to call their own, even if they don’t sleep there. But Thai families don’t usually get that much privacy and personal space, so apartments that roomy are rare where I was first looking.
The real estate agent who helped us a year ago said he didn’t know that end of town very well. My online searches didn’t generate many leads. So I switched game plans and started looking on my own in a neighborhood halfway between our old apartment and my work. I just walked around in larger and larger circles until I saw a sign announcing an apartment for rent.
At first glance the place didn’t seem too special or fancy, but the rooms were big enough and the street was quiet. I called the agent again to ask him to negotiate for me (with housing, as with vegetables, the first price is not the final price here). To my surprise, he agreed to coach me, but nothing more. He said he had a good feeling about the landlady, and that I might do better on my own than he could do.
I felt like a kid who gets told that he has to start doing some chores around the house. I was so nervous about blowing it that I wrote out a whole script before I called to bargain. Just as I’d been coached, I told her not to decide right away, but instead to take a day or two to think about my offer. Amazingly, she called me back and agreed to the 20% cut I’d proposed.
Yet Jip and I have a few unusual housing requirements, which turned out to be hard to meet near the Ministry of Public Health. Our specs include wide doors and deep elevators. The standard measurements here are often too tight for a wheelchair, except in a few buildings that maybe were constructed with foreigners in mind.
We also wanted a three bedroom place, because it has worked well this past year to have a room for the caregivers to call their own, even if they don’t sleep there. But Thai families don’t usually get that much privacy and personal space, so apartments that roomy are rare where I was first looking.
The real estate agent who helped us a year ago said he didn’t know that end of town very well. My online searches didn’t generate many leads. So I switched game plans and started looking on my own in a neighborhood halfway between our old apartment and my work. I just walked around in larger and larger circles until I saw a sign announcing an apartment for rent.
At first glance the place didn’t seem too special or fancy, but the rooms were big enough and the street was quiet. I called the agent again to ask him to negotiate for me (with housing, as with vegetables, the first price is not the final price here). To my surprise, he agreed to coach me, but nothing more. He said he had a good feeling about the landlady, and that I might do better on my own than he could do.
I felt like a kid who gets told that he has to start doing some chores around the house. I was so nervous about blowing it that I wrote out a whole script before I called to bargain. Just as I’d been coached, I told her not to decide right away, but instead to take a day or two to think about my offer. Amazingly, she called me back and agreed to the 20% cut I’d proposed.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
New Digs
We’ve been busy moving to a new part of town, setting up new routines and phone numbers and Internet access and so on. In a way it feels as though we’ve finally moved to Thailand.
Our old place was surrounded by lots of conveniences that made it a perfect place to land when we were fresh from the States. But those same amenities sometimes made me feel as if we could have been anywhere in the world: the international signage, the English-speaking pharmacists, the five-star hotels.
The new neighborhood has a bit more Thai soul. On our first day here I saw monks making their morning rounds, and I thought “Oh, yeah—I almost forgot they did that in this country.” Nearly everyone in our new apartment building is Thai.
Glittery coffee shops and fitness centers are still within walking distance, but along the way I now have the option of buying veggies and fruit from sidewalk vendors instead of supermarkets. And I never see those short-term couples anymore that were so common in our old neighborhood: older Western men and Thai women, separated by about forty years, holding hands but somehow not on the same planet.
Our old place was surrounded by lots of conveniences that made it a perfect place to land when we were fresh from the States. But those same amenities sometimes made me feel as if we could have been anywhere in the world: the international signage, the English-speaking pharmacists, the five-star hotels.
The new neighborhood has a bit more Thai soul. On our first day here I saw monks making their morning rounds, and I thought “Oh, yeah—I almost forgot they did that in this country.” Nearly everyone in our new apartment building is Thai.
Glittery coffee shops and fitness centers are still within walking distance, but along the way I now have the option of buying veggies and fruit from sidewalk vendors instead of supermarkets. And I never see those short-term couples anymore that were so common in our old neighborhood: older Western men and Thai women, separated by about forty years, holding hands but somehow not on the same planet.
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