Tiviram Tales 2- Girls and Asian Girls:
If all men loved me-I’d choose the kindest one: The government lease area where we all lived was also very near to the army base in Chiang Mai. And although we rarely saw the soldiers, we could often hear the guns and sometimes even bombs going off at night. The young men had to join army for at least two years, which was a pity because some of the women would love to have had relations with these young men. But unless you were rich enough to buy yourself out of it, conscription was unavoidable. One day there was quite a large explosion near to the boundary of our village. A tragedy waiting to happen had happened; three children aged from four to nine years old had been playing with some high explosives that had been discarded by the army. Four year old Nappaporn (a girl living with my aunt) lost both her legs while the other two were killed instantly. Life on the village was not the same again for a while. When my cousin was 16, she noticed that she had now become a woman. Not only did she have the largest breasts amongst the women in the village, but she also had those beautiful almond eyes and a figure that men would die for. The problem wasn’t only for the fact that she knew it, she loved to flaunt herself too. With her long flowing black hair and skin-tight jeans, she wore small low cut shirts so as to reveal just enough acceptable cleavage for the men to goggle over. It was very fortunate though, that her mother chose a befitting punishment for the naughty deeds that she was about to get up to. My aunt and uncle decided that as punishment for her deeds, she should lose that lovely long black hair. I could hear the screams now as they held her down, pleading with them-she did however remain a virgin and whatever she had got up to during that time was probably just some harmless fun with a few boys. When I was six years old, my mother died and any hope for a normal life after this, would now be left as a distant memory. The older women of our family (although still only teenagers) now had to take control of the house, this, like in other Asian country was part of women’s devotion to the house. My father worked days and sometimes nights to feed all of us, he soon became quiet and melancholy and probably fell into a condition that was not known of then; depression. Life was hard, but we were occasionally lucky enough to cherish those happy moments that fell upon us. Like the time when a drunk farang came into our village looking for his wife. All except one lady could speak English, and she didn’t speak it very well. He staggered in one evening mumbling about his wife, tears in his eyes-crying like a baby. He wasn’t a handsome man but he looked kind, the type of kindness that could make any girl happy. So what had happened to his wife we wondered. One of the village leaders allowed the man to sleep the night here-we remembered that he snored throughout-and into the late morning. He awoke to a gathering of staring children, women, men young girls, chickens and other curious animals all trying to get a look at this strange alien. He appeared to be in state of shock-and looked around in dismay as if to say “where am I?” From what we could gather, he was an American on holiday. He’d been staying in Chiang Mai for the past week. The most astonishing thing we discovered though, was the fact that he was single and he’d never been married! So what was he trying to say the night before? Looking for women?
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