Readers' Submissions

Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 178

  • Written by Dana
  • May 26th, 2007
  • 6 min read


China Hotel Guide
• Yihe Longbai Hotel Shanghai
• JW Marriott Hotel Shanghai
• Dorure International Hotel
• Guangdong Hotel Shanghai

TWO BEERS AND A PLAN

"The limits of my language means the limits of my world." (Ludwig Wittgenstein)

Or something. Anyway, what I think Luddy was trying to say if he was starring at a Thailand brochure is that if you do not speak the native language; then you just have no idea what is going on, or you have some idea of what is going on but you don't know everything. You are limited. Yeah, that's probably it. Only he had to say it in one of those brief mysterious pithy intellectual ways. Anyway, what it means in Thailand for me is that because I don't speak the Thai language; I just have to guess at stuff. It is mostly impossible to ask the questions let alone understand the answers. I have an American last name in my passport based on the last name of my parents, but when I go through Arrivals Immigration at Suvarnabhumi International airport my last name becomes Guesser. Dana the Guesser. Mr. Dana Guesser. The Guessman. Dana Guessarino. The Guessmeister. Commander Guesser. Hansum Farang Guesser. Mr. Guesser.

Wait a minute . . . before I go on; how come Wittgenstein has one of these sayings attached to his name anyway? I mean how did he do that? Did he have some public relations guy back then campaigning for his client Wittgenstein to be remembered for this? Hey, and I don't want to sound critical; but this quote–

"The limits of my language means the limits of my world."

–isn't exactly Moses with the Ten Commandments. I mean I guess it says something meaningful, but frankly; Churchill laying in his tub like a stranded whale with a cigar in one hand and a crystal glassed bourbon balanced on his knees could have dictated off ten of these sayings in as many minutes. Oh, let's drop the pretence. He could have burped and farted out fifty better sayings in as many minutes and lit another cigar and sloshed another bourbon while doing it. So how come Wittgenstein gets to have a saying? Hey, and that's not really the main point. The main point (I'll have a Chang beer sweety) is how come I don't have a saying? How come there is not some Dana saying? Yeah . . . how come . . . (thanks sweety). Beats me. I sure know a lot of stuff and I'm mouthy. Let's see, what would I like to be known for historically. What would a good Dana saying be? How about:

"My hotel is right across the street." (Dana)

or

"Full strip, plus anal, plus shower games–500 baht." (Dana)

or

"You are the most beautiful woman in Thailand." (Dana)

or

"No need to wear a condom because I love you." (Dana)

or . . .

Well, you get the idea. I'll work on that. I should have a saying just like this Wittgenstein guy. If you have any ideas send them in and remember it is for history. Anyway, what Luddy was saying and I have found to be true is that if you do not speak the local language, or if you do not speak the local language without limits of comprehension; you are sometimes like a headless chicken trying to find the feed trough. Long odds. Mistakes are made. You end up floundering around in a linguistic forest and constantly getting twigs in the eye.

In Thailand it means that I just don't know about a lot of stuff–or I think I know but I can't verify–or I can come up with the question but almost never the answer. Because of the language gap I live in a world of smoke and mirrors and mystery. I end up wondering about a lot of stuff. As an example: years ago after a night of adult bedroom athletics I took my lover to the restaurant in the Nana Hotel for the breakfast buffet. She talked to the waiter. He talked back. I listened. I asked questions. More listening. I attempted to talk to the inscrutable waiter. Finally I gave up. I could not ascertain whether she was, or whether she was not going to have breakfast. Boy that is ignorant. Light switch ignorant. If someone is flipping the light switch and you can not figure out whether the lights are on or are off you are limited. I can still remember that moment of epiphany sitting at the breakfast table in the Mothership with my lover and my Thai waiter. Thailand began to lose me. I started to drift away like an astronaut with a broken tether.

Let me give you another example of something I wonder about but am too language limited to figure out with certainty: to wit–Why would experienced knowledgeable smart whores do business without condoms?

There's a question for you. And because I don't speak Thai I can't ask them. So I am reduced to guessing. And in guessing I have come up with several possible reasons. The most attention getting reason is that they might not be using condoms because they already have HIV or Aids. They have nothing to lose. Condoms have gone from necessity to inconvenience. From smart health choice to better business choice. So there is a chance that you are having sex with death warrant mentalities past caring about hygiene, or life, or the future because they have contracted a possibly terminal disease.

Example: I have been happily having no condom sex with a Pattaya woman for years. She has been in the business possibly for decades–wrong side of forty years old. Last time we were going down in the elevator at the AA Hotel she pointed at my crotch with her eyes and told me I should be careful. It was kind of a caring moment. "Thanks for caring honey." But wait a minute. Shouldn't she be careful if she thinks it is a good idea for me to be careful? Well, logic wins that one. Unless . . . she is already infected. Kinda makes you think. Well, ok–you do the thinking: I can't wait to meet her again.

However, there is a bright light peeping around the edges of this dark cloud. Someday I might have HIV or Aids and having sex with these women exclusively will be the responsible thing to do and I will still get to have a sex life as my immunity system shuts down. Even on my last skeletal day of wheezing in a supine position I'll be able to say,

"Honey, take off your clothes."

I won't have to worry about being deprived of a sex life because I am now part of the leper community of the death sentenced or health deprived. So what I should be doing is making a list of these 'admits-to-it' or ‘most probably' or ‘possibly diseased' or 'has a medical document showing it' sick prostitutes.

Yeah, that's it. I'll start making a list. I love it when a plan comes together. If anyone out there wants to share in this list just get in touch with me. I'm not going to keep a great thing like a list of diseased AIDS infected whores to myself. I haven't got many names now but if you contact me in five years I should have enough names to keep you busy and happy until the end of your Aids days. I'm a giver. Hey, I just had an asteroid idea (honey, I'll have another beer) crash into my skull. Maybe that should be my historical Dana saying–

"I'm a giver." (Dana)

Stickman's thoughts:

Once again, I truly do not know what to say…