Issan village life (part one)

Whilst I was recently staying in a small Issan farmers village I decided to keep a diary, mostly to keep myself from going round the bend. In this post I have condensed this massive body of work to the salient points. Here is part one. Enjoy....

Day 1 - We arrived at Surin railway station after a long journey from Hua Hin via Bangkok, I had insisted on an air-con sleeper so the journey was at least more tolerable. We were picked up at the station by a family member and headed off on the 60kms journey north east to Sanom. As it had been raining the roads were wet, but this didn't seem to stop our young Thai driver from hitting speeds of around 130kms an hour. We rounded a corner (on the wrong side of the road for some reason) and missed two people on a motorbike by inches, I screamed and braced for impact, he just laughed! Sweet god what are these people on? We eventually arrived safely, and I contemplated kissing the ground papal style as I alighted from what was nearly my tomb.
The villagers gathered round to look at the stranger that had just arrived. Some said hello, some just stared. I launched with enthusiastic vim into my best Thai, and was met with glassy eyed looks. They speak a Thai/Lao dialect in this part of the country, said Joy, they will only understand you a little. Great I thought, I have spent years learning to master basic Thai and now I can't be understood.
It was 07:00 in the morning but I had noticed several villagers had started to drink 'Lao Khao' which is a lethal spirit that can eventually lead to blindness, I also noticed they were giving it to some of the kids! The rest of the day went smoothly enough, I kept noticing every now and again people staring at me from behind dense foliage or a grazing buffalo. It was most unnerving to say the least. Every time I turned around loads of local kids would scream and run. We were eventually in bed by 18:00, shattered. Day 1 was over and I was still alive....

Day 2 - I was rudely aroused from a deep slumber at 04:00 by a 3 inch cockroach that had decided to check out the inside of my boxer shorts, my scream alas also woke Joy up, who swiftly beat it to a pulp with her fist and told me to go back to sleep and not to worry. What, who was she kidding how many more of these bloody things were there? Eventually I drifted off again. To be woken up once more at 05:00 by the shrill cock-a-doodle-doo of the village cockerel.
I showered Thai style (bucket and sloosh) and wandered outside and to join the other villagers on their bamboo tables, clutching my humongous mug of coffee and an L & M cigarette. They stared at me with a look of terrified shock in their eyes. One by one they slunk away until eventually I was sitting on my own, what was all that about? I asked Joy and she said that they felt uncomfortable around me and also wanted to give me some space. I finished my coffee and wander back inside to spend a few hours listening to my ipod (thank god I decided to bring it) and read my book. How the hell was I going to fill the time each day?

Day 3 - I have noticed that all the cows and buffalo eye me with particular disdain, their ears and tails constantly flitting about in a form of bovine callanetics. Joy was busying herself by beating my smalls over a medium seized rock, I could almost hear them cry 'were from Marks and Spencer for gods sake, we don't deserve this'
I notice some children curiously look on as I scribble this entry in my diary. I think to myself that I'd like to read an Issan farmers diary of a two week stay in London....
Observation - For some strange reason it seems perfectly normal for various village adults to sporadically beat small kids about the body. Even if they have done nothing wrong. They don't seem to mind and never cry.

Day 4 - You would not believe how good a bowl of simple vegetables and rice can taste when washed down with a cold beer, sitting on a bamboo table under a house whilst a monsoon is lashing down. I feel totally at ease and strangely content. Eventually I finish my only meal of the day. Shortly I know the sweats will follow, for Issan food is as hot as hades.
The bloody flies wont go away, you can flail your arms about like a fit victim, but still the tenacious buggers keep coming.
I think I have invented a new noun - a grub of chickens (well I like it)
I am conscious of two things today. I appear to have started to talk to myself, and my pink Van Heusen shirt looks very out of place in a small Issan farmers village. (sporadic kid hitting occurs)
I notice the elder women are rolling a white paste up in leaves, I assume that is the beetle nut I have heard about and not cocaine! I spend the next 10 minuets studying a cows arse, why?
At 13:00 I decide to fart, I do and promptly shit myself, so spend the next 10 minuets discreetly washing my underpants. God its damned hot today.....

Day 5 - Walking between the palm trees I have decided is akin to playing Russian roulette, as every now and again one will fall with a giant thud, leaving itself embedded 3-4 inches in the ground. That said I gamely go on the odd jaunt and wait for the darkness to descend.
I have been seeing a really old looking lady skulking around the village, I always enjoy seeing her as when I speak to her she just cackles really loudly, its so funny. I found out today that she's only 55 years old! Maybe she's been round the clock and is in fact 155.
I spend the afternoon chasing the kids and teaching them some English games to play, like hop scotch and penny against the wall. I wish I had a bag of marbles....

Day 6 - Up at 06:00 and what a glorious morning it is. The kids are outside splitting nuts open with bloody great machetes, the chickens are grubbing about as usual. Eventually they get ready for school (the kids that is, not the chickens) and they wave to me as they walk up the lane to school, nice.
I am off to see some old Khmer ruins today, so should get some good pics for the blog. When we arrive there is a coach load of school kids already there, they are eager to practice their English and even offer us some food. I cant see school kids in the UK doing that, all you'd get is 'what the fuck are you looking at you fat cunt'
We walk back to the market to buy some vittles for tea, and arrive back in the village just in time to witness the end of a sporadic kid hitting session. I eat my veggies and rice with relish, consume two bottles of Leo beer, shower and hit the sack at 19:00....

(Part two to follow shortly)