I recently met a man. No, not that man. A man I didn't like, and that is a rare thing. For those of you that know me will know that generally speaking I am a fancier of men in all shapes and sizes and for various purposes: the friend, the lover, the casual acquaintance. But this man was a flashback, a remembrance of annoyances past from my days in the Land of Smile.
He was a Farang in the most pejorative sense of the word. I met him at a party, and these days I go to so few it is amazing that I should meet anyone that would rankle me to such a degree.
My ex, Tets, who is Asian, was with me at the party. He and I had met and lived for many years in Thailand and this MAN had been to Thailand. He immediately slipped into what I call dumb Farang speak with Tets. "I go Pattaya. I chop Thai." He spit out a few other words in Thai and my discomfort grew and I had to get as far away from him as the house would allow.
I didn't ask who he was;I didn't want to know his name. I didn't tell his girlfriend what kind of visit to Thailand her boyfriend had likely had. I wanted him to disappear and all the other men like him to follow suit.
When I left Thailand, I was more than happy to leave the sputtered mumblings of washed up white men to Thai people behind. I hated the colonial attitude many people wore smugly on their sweating faces. I hated even more, the way my partner was treated as a performing monkey and how he played the part of the white man's dimmer Asian companion. I said goodbye to all that and now here it was again standing in my cousins' kitchen in out-of-the-way Nova Scotia.
Two days ago, via FB, i saw that this MAN was no longer part of my family circle. He and his girlfriend, my distant family member, had broken up. I could not have been happier. I hope I never see him again but if I do, I'll have a few words to share.
