The Night Jasmine Read online

  “You know I don’t like LAO KHAO…

  go on then…just a small one…

  By the way…where are the rods?”

  Floodwater concealed the banks;

  turned river into ocean.

  As the current slowed, I dared

  to loosen my vice-like grip…

  could have been thanks to LAO KHAO.

  When we came across a weir,

  we secured the boat; got out

  On the downstream side, were nets,

  attached to lengths of bamboo.

  Some contained fish; some empty.

  Bemused by the sight, at first,

  I watched more; began nodding.

  Every few minutes, a fish,

  attempting to jump the weir,

  would land in the makeshift nets,

  thrashing about, to escape,

  before giving up the fight.

  We watched from a safe distance,

  shaded by Tamarind trees;

  picking the unripened fruit,

  dabbing them in a mixture

  of sugar and chilli flakes.

  Face-contorting, bitter-sweet.

  Enough to turn you to drink.

  “Pass me the LAO KHAO, quickly;

  gotta wash this taste away.”

  That was a stupid mistake.

  Felt like my mouth was on fire.

  “You should chase it with water.”

  “You should have said earlier.”

  To cut a long story short,

  we headed back with our catch,

  feeling rather giddy, from

  rocking boat, LAO KHAO, combined.

  His wife spent the afternoon

  gutting , beheading the fish,

  removing tails, fins and scales,

  and adding handfuls of salt.

  The fish were placed in stone pots,

  capped with mosquito netting

  Two weeks later; inspection.

  Sickly, sweaty, fishy smell.

  Scrape off, discard top layer,

  scooping out any maggots

  infesting the rotting flesh,

  add more salt to witches brew,

  leave to fester for a year,

  before the ‘sauce’ is declared

  fit for human consumption.

  Pass me that LAO KHAO bottle!

  14. Tropical Winter

  At year’s end in Village Isan

  Be prepared for climate change

  Arriving in casual dress

  Under cool cover of darkness

  A hint of winter in disguise

  Moves in for the chill by morning

  Twice a week throughout December

  Finished by February

  Neighbours unite to fuel the fires

  Gloves, scarves, coats, hats, help combat cold

  Gather in gangs to feel the thaw

  Central heating – Isan style

  Breakfast is a sombre affair

  Enter the sun, and spirits rise

  On shafts of steam, issued by breaths

  Mimicking mists in the valley

  Dare to stare at insipid sun

  Take the full five second challenge

  Blink away green and yellow dots

  Reminders of futility

  Face to the east as embers fade

  Lounging like so many lizards

  Rays penetrate, revitalise

  Hearts and minds numbed by nature

  Sun earns its keep, loungers shed skins

  Returning to T-shirts and shorts

  Mid-morning quest for cool beneath

  The shade of a Tamarind tree

  And Winter, a recurring dream

  Unwelcome guest, who can’t stay long

  Has business to conduct elsewhere

  Much tougher terrain to torment

  15. All According To Plan

  Along the road to Nonsang

  Coach connection from Khon Kaen

  Life-blood lining lakeside route

  Sugar cane, rice, banana

  Fire-house, Hospital Police

  Sugar cane, rice, banana

  Shopping, commerce, Industry

  Sugar cane, rice, banana

  Getting used to it by now

  Sugar cane, rice, banana

  Cattle cluster in clearings

  Gazing, grazing – Amazing!

  Nonsang in ninety minutes

  Road-side read-out register

  Determines driving distance

  Sixty six Clickety-clicks

  Packs of hounds at Ubol Rat

  Dominate the dam – Damn dogs?

  Meanwhile, minutes march on by

  Afternoon activity

  Dampened by daytime downpour

  We pull up to watch rain dry

  ‘Try not to blink – You’ll miss it!’

  Ankle-deep becomes bone-dry

  In the twinkling of an eye

  Navigating neighbourhoods

  Teased by tricky traffic lights

  Fast bus flies past slowcoaches

  Swerving, speeding – Soon be home

  Destination – No distance

  Nonsang in next to no time

  Chauffeur’s shell-suit, shocking pink

  Some say he’s a lady-boy

  Long hair, lipstick, jewellery

  Mok says ‘Just a fashion phase’

  Nonsang ‘city’ limits near

  All aboard are in good cheer

  Gang of guys gesture greeting

  Pointing-out ‘Farang’ – White Man

  Shouting, waving, laughing loud

  One eating ‘Farang’ - Guava

  One drinks ‘Lao Khao’, smokes ‘Ya Soob’

  Rice Liquor and Cigarettes

  Chews ‘Mark Farang’ – Chewing Gum

  While another fills his face

  Munching ‘Man Farang Tort’ - Chips

  Only one has been abroad

  Once went to France – ‘Farang Set’

  First time out of his ‘Moo Ban’

  Never been anywhere since

  That’s village Isan for you

  Rice-farming communities

  ‘Don’t have time for nothing else’

  Nose to tail - literally

  Mad dogs hog the road – Road dogs?

  Making for the market place

  To scavenge scraps discarded

 

  Makeshift market stalls offer

  Tea-time treats to tempt all tastes

  Fast-food fancies, Isan-style

  ‘Somtam’ – Papaya ‘Pok-pok’

  Over there, the daily catch

  Falls from flash-flood fishing nets

  Over here, a group of girls

  Scratching an honest living

 

  These are the real-life ‘Spice Girls’

  They specialise in chillies

  ‘Phrik Kaeng’ provides ‘Girl Power’

  (Hard Chillies – Know what I mean?)

  Also ‘Phrik’ – ‘Chee Far’; ‘Yoo-Ak’

  And best of all ‘Phrik Khee Noo’

  (Reach Up To The Sky Chillies;

  Sweet Peppers – That pack a punch!

  Rat-Shit Chillies; aptly named

  I believe some like it hot!)

  ‘Long’ arrives, and loads us up

  Drives us home, the final leg

  Six more clicks to Ban Huakua

  Through the gates and garden green

  All that grows is edible

  Tamarind and Mangosteen

  Coconuts and Papaya

  Pomegranate and Mango

  Orange, Lemon, Durian

  Chillies, Ginger, Lemon Grass

  Banana and Pineapple

 

  All around us; fields of Rice

  Now bathed in scorching sunshine

  Thirty seven, in the shade

  The hot season is April!

  Family reunion

  Been gone from March to July

 
; Tonight we’ll have a party

  Changnoi, Diamond, Mok and I

  16.Fulfilment

  Existing below

  the poverty line,

  a proud woman

  gives thanks to Buddha,

  observed by the monks

  of Wat Sutapradid

  Short of a few Baht,

  Yai Phrae , as she’s known,

  ‘Old Mother Silk’,

  scratches a living

  helping to raise pigs

  for a few hours a week.

  Her payment, not cash;

  Ears, trotters, noses

  and intestines

  she takes to market

  in nearby Non Sang

  on Wednesday afternoons.

  Traded, not for cash,

  but rice, or silkworms

  in their cocoons.

  Yai Phrae is content

  with the arrangement.

  She walks with head held high.

  The Dak Dae – silkworms,

  she eats with Khao Nieow -

  glutinous rice.

  She’s a survivor.

  Nothing is wasted;

  and nothing discarded.

  Cocoons become thread,.

  spun on an old wheel.

  The thread is tie-died

  below her shack,

  and a makeshift loom

  transforms thread into cloth.

  Cloth becomes dresses,

  jackets and trousers,

  accessories.

  Practical magic;

  sow’s ear, now silk purse.

  Poorest girl now best dressed.

  Twenty years later,

  her shack is transformed

  into a home.

  No cash is involved.

  There’s still work to do,

  but her life is complete.

  17. Judgement Day

  Breakfast long before first light

  Full steam and full beam ahead

  Follow Nongbua North Star

  Steering straight on till morning

  Upwards to Udon/Nongkhai?

  Or take the left turn to Loei?

  Crossroads crisis averted

  Westwards to winter we choose

  Up-country cool-down forecast

  Chiang Kan chillout climate change

  And misty Mekong morning

  Defy Global Warming signs

  Customs House caution signs warn

  Of counterfeit cigarettes

  Filtering through Loei from Laos

  Now smoke-screened by frigid fog

  Zero visibility

  Zero traffic tolerance

  Not quite a hero’s welcome

  To the north-west border zone

  Positive prospect pending?

  Lunch date with lawmen in Loei

  Capital verdict confirmed

  Decision declared this day

  Arbiter’s armed attendant

  Offers official outcome

  Not stay of execution

  Rather extension of stay

  18. Dec 25, 2009

  Just another Friday night

  In rural Village Isan

  Same as any other night

  Perhaps a little cooler

  Family gathered with friends

  Around a simple table

  A simple meal of Somtam

  Simply served with Sticky Rice

  Offered by those with nothing

  To those who have even less

  Exchanging gifts of friendship

  Is the Isan way of life

  For an after dinner drink

  The Milk of Human Kindness

  It tastes just like happiness

  Only much more delicious

  19. Wet And Dry Rain

  Worlds are being told like beads.

  Global stories, with two sides

  One bead tumbles towards me

  Screaming for my attention

  “Two kinds of rain in Thailand

  Wet or dry, the choice is yours”

  Dry rain a contradiction?

  Not on the streets of Bangkok

  Occurring during twilight

  Outside the Rainy Season

  Earthbound, very fine drizzle

  Which in a cooler climate

  Would leave you soaked to the skin

  Here, in Thailand, however

  The heat of early evening

  Makes droplets evaporate

  Although you see it falling

  Nothing ever becomes wet

  Wet rain, on the other hand

  A different kettle of fish

  Preceded by gusts of wind

  It can fall relentlessly

  Within the space of minutes

  Roads become knee-deep canals

  With it, ear-splitting thunder

  Lasting for an hour or two

  I’ve been treated many times

  While watching after nightfall

  The most amazing light-shows

  Performed in the Bangkok sky

  Several flashes a second

  Illuminate the heavens

  Forking, streaking and dancing

  Like faulty fluorescent tubes

  Colours you can’t imagine

  Ranging from yellow, orange

  Sometimes green, often blue

  Not forgetting purple, pink

  You have to see to believe

  Don’t just take my word for it

  In Bangkok, as this bead knows

  Both Wet and Dry rain exist

  Acknowledgement: First line - Worlds are being told like beads.

  Originally penned by Norman Dubie.

  20. Papaya Pok-Pok – พาพาย้าป๊อกๆ

  Take one unripe papaya

  Shave skin to expose green flesh

  Swift knife-blade chopping motions

  Slice strands into a mortar

  Flavour with home-made fish sauce

  The juice of a home-grown lime

  A dozen “Rat Shit” chillies

  And a tablespoon of salt

  Add some cherry tomatoes

  Throw in a freshwater crab

  Bruise the mix with a pestle

  And gather round the table

  Isan ‘Somtam’, delicious

  ‘Somtam’ – “Papaya Pok-Pok”

  Tasty papaya salad

  Best served with glutinous rice.

  Papaya Pok Pok

  Ao marlakor mar nung look

  Pork perk ok ao tee nua nai

  Laew ko sab

  Fan sai jan

  Sai plar lar tee tam eng

  Sai manao jark thon

  Phrik khee noo sib song met phor dee

  Sai phong shulot nung shon to

  Sai makeurtet look lek

  Sai pudong jark mae nam

  Laew ko tam pok-pok

  Laew tuk khon ko mar nang kin

  Somtam Isan seb lai der

  ‘Somtam’ – “Papaya Pok-Pok”

  Yam marlakor aroi

  Kin kab khao nieow dee khwar

  พาพาย่าป๊อกๆ

  เอามะละกอมาหนึ่งลูก

  ปอกเปลือก ออกที่เนื้อใน

  แล้วก็สับ

  ฟันใส่จาน

  ใส่ปลาร้าที่ทำเอง

  ใส่มะนาวจากต้น

  พริกขี้หนูสิบสองเม็ดพอดี

  ใส่ผงชูรสหนึ่งช้อนโต๊ะ

  ใส่มะเขือเทศลูกเล็ก

  ใส่ปูดองจากแม่น้ำ

  แล้วก็ตำป๊อกๆ

  แล้วทุกคนก็มานั่งกิน

  ส้มตำอีสานแซบหลายเด้อ

  ส้มตำ พาพา�
��่าป๊อกๆ

  ยำมะละกออร่อย

  กินกับข้าวเหนียว

  All photographs in this section © Kanpirom Srisongnang

  21. Ching-Ching จริงๆ True

  moonless night campfire embers

  enamel jug brewing tea

  bread and jam feast to wash down

  hand-held torch insipid beam

  spotlight falls on our leader

  he wants to tell a story

  tent flap tattoo briskly beats

  guitars strum introduction

  no more new-age songs tonight

  another limp urban myth

  involving a wattle tree

  and a pail of rotting fish

  sharp knife and blunt instrument

  to bruise heads and spill out guts

  some salt to rub in then stow

  under the shade of the tree

  not a job for winter time

  an ending to startle us

  it was absolutely true

  take the worst thing you’ve tasted

  multiply that a few times

  you never tasted nothing

  if you never tasted this

  he’d spent some years in Thailand

  and watched how they made plar lar

  a kind of home-made fish sauce

  an isan delicacy

  here’s how his story ended…

  ‘the fish were placed in stone pots

  capped with mosquito netting

  two weeks later inspection

  sickly sweaty fishy smell

  scrape off discard top layer

  scooping out any maggots

  infesting the rotting flesh

  add more salt to witches brew

  leave to fester for a year

  before the sauce is declared

  fit for human consumption’

  22. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

  Isan heartland scene

  Jangwat Nongbualamphu

  Edible landscape

  Alone, a man walks

  Highway to Amphor Nonsang

  Rice field surroundings

  Food basket in hand

  Local produce; offerings

  For saffron-clad monks

  Holy residents

  Defenders of Buddhist Faith

  Wat Sutapradit

  Simple country fare

  Accepted with gratitude

  Blessings in return