The Gangster's Lair

*

Well, what was to be done? This was a landscape of Hockney paintings and gentle slides, of whispy looks across manicured lawns, of wasted afternoons watching the gardener go about his duty, of old friends splashing in the pool and little thought but for ultimate indulgence: what perversion can we think of next? You've never had a blow job till you've had one from a katoy, a ladyboy, the gangster declared; and they all grimaced, oh no, I couldn't, we couldn't. It's just not the blokey thing to do. They're nice people, the gangster declared, they're good to hang out with in the bars. Oh those bars, they were everywhere. So they went out to celebrate Peter B's 26th birthday in Chiang Mai, and the woman running the bar, the Sugar Bar, the Heh Heh Bar, the Whatever Bar, asked about him: Pappa? Heh! he said. As in watch it! But it was true. What was this old f... doing hanging out with these young dudes; and how things had changed. Once he had always been the youngest person hanging out in any situation. Now time had reversed.

How could you possibly walk past a place called Barfly? There they were, the old men sitting in their dreams of alcohol. Sometimes a girl hanging off them. Sometimes a girl in the dark. Don't you Thai men ever get upset at all the farangs, the foreigners, taking the Thai women? the first Peter had asked. And the reply came: there are two types of Thai women, sweet and sour. And the foreigners like the sour. As in you can have them. You can follow the path of many. You can catch whatever disease is going around. Pattya tongue. Where the men's tongues swell up and they have to stay in their hotel
rooms for days; and everyone laughs at them because everyone knows how they caught it; there in the biggest brothel in the world bar none; there where light flipped into shade and every animal instinct went crazy. And the locals went crazy to support it.

So they sat round the Bangkok pool through the long afternoon; the luxury house behind them, the hum of the traffic on Sukhumvit clogging the otherwise muggy air, the pigeons cooing from the alcove of the house next door. That house is worth several million baht and the owner lets those flying rats live there like that, the gangster said in disgust, just itching to kill something; anything. After all the bashings. After all the runs. After all the quiet scandal. The Lure Of The Illicit. The trials of all time. The savage darkness that had swept through each day; and had now entirely dissipated. Oh why, why, couldn't he reach out and touch that gentle frame, make love. What can you do at my age; he asked rhetorically, for he alreadfy knew the answer. Pay for it? Once he had thought, ludicrously, if only I was older, and people would love me for myself.

There were so many destinies, stories untold. So many people who had passed from the mortal coil and he had failed in his duty to document them all, watching, gargoyle like, from those rooftops overlooking Sydney Harbour, watching the sunrise and the agony pass. Scattered to the four winds. You don't know the half of it. And sailing, sailing away into moments of infinite beauty when all was lost and there was only one tiny thread of recognition, justification; a tiny thread of personality not splintered into the icy crystals of the splintering sky, the leaping colours of the changing dawn, the muffled pleasures of the rising traffic, the frequent curiosity as he peered from his high pinnacle into the windows of other people's lives; ordinary, working people's lives; the observer, the documenter, the sad f... on a high window ledge, always on the outside looking in.

And so the boys laughed and partied good naturedly, their whole lives in front of them, completely unaware how truly lucky they are, even though they were repeatedly told. Life seems infinite in your twenties and then you wake up old and half of it, most of it, has gone and you think: what the f... happened there? It wasn't going to be easy, nothing was easy. But the cruellest thing about all these fate lines was that it simply didn't matter much what you did with your life; you all ended in the same place. Chiang Mai was full of retired Americans with their loud voices, eking out their military pensions in a place where their money went further and the girls were beautiful; at a price. They're not so superficial, they don't care what you look like, Peter B said; and he thought, don't be naive. They like their wallets. They sit their with those blank, patient expressions on their faces for one reason only: survival is difficult, these men have money.

He had seen them swapping pictures of good looking men on their mobiles; giggling. Handsome, handsome. He knew they knew he didn't trust them one little bit. And so day folded on day; and life was glorious. At least he was still here, replete with survival guilt. Hey Johnnie, you want something?

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/asia/Thailands-Tourism-Industry-Takes-a-Beating-From-Protesters-89325417.html

Thailand's economy is taking a battering, especially the vital tourism industry as the latest protests in Bangkok have frightened off visitors to the country. Tensions have escalated as protesters moved to force military units to stand down amid minor grenade explosions in the capital.

Thailand's tourism industry has taken a hit as thousands of anti-government protesters have taken to the streets over the past few weeks to try to force fresh elections.

The so-called Red Shirts, supporters of former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, have mounted a series of targeted demonstrations, ranging from ritualistic blood curses to head-shaving to noisy parades through the streets of the capital.

Although their rally has been somwhat peaceful so far, many remember the Red Shirts' protests last year that turned violent.

The Association of Thai Travel Agents said international visitor arrivals fell between 20 and 30 percent in March, when the protests began. Tourists coming from such key markets as Japan, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea cancelled their plans.

Andrew Cornelio, director of sales and marketing at the Dusit Thani Hotel, said the travel advisories from more than 30 countries also contributed to the dip in tourism.

"For the Dusit Thani we have seen many cancellations, he said. "In terms of numbers we've lost quite a lot. Right now we have about I would say 15 to 20 percent down from what we expected to be. It's cost our first quarter figures to be below what we have budgeted for."

The tourism industry had been forecasting tourist arrivals of over 15 million for 2010. But analysts say the target is now not expected to be met. Tourism accounts for about six percent of Thailand's economy.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8590446.stm

Tens of thousands of Thailand's red-shirted protesters have gathered in front of army positions in Bangkok to demand fresh elections.

The anti-government protesters have massed at eight points in the centre of the city.

Troops have reportedly abandoned some of their positions after threats to tear down barbed-wire barricades.

The government has extended special security legislation and brought in extra troops to man check-points.

"We will meet with the military and police in a spirit of friendship, and talk with them to convince them to return to their barracks, and invite them to join us in calling for democracy," said protest leader Veera Musikapong ahead of the rally, according to the AFP news agency.

But Reuters news agency reports that the rhetoric became more confrontational, prompting the army withdrawal.

"This is the breaking point," another leader, Nattawut Saikua, shouted to the crowd.

A protester has her head shaved in Bangkok on 25 March 2010
Some protesters have offered both blood and hair to their cause

"If we lose, we will probably go to jail, if we win, then we get a democracy back," he said.

Anti-government protesters have mounted a series of targeted demonstrations in the past two weeks, ranging from ritualistic blood curses to head-shaving to noisy parades through the streets of the capital.

There has also been a series of unexplained explosions at buildings associated with the administration - the red shirts deny any responsibility.

The protesters, known as the red-shirts because of their distinctive clothing, are calling for the prime minister to resign.

The BBC's Rachel Harvey in Bangkok says the protesters are no nearer their stated goal of forcing fresh elections, but there is no sign of them giving up either.

The red-shirts are a loose coalition of pro-democracy activists, supporters of ousted Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra and former communists.

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