Subtle signs of decomposing behaviour...

When one stays long enough in the seedy nightlife of Bangkok, one gets the feeling that there is allways a new experience awaiting behind the bitter taste of the last one. While going out in the Irish pub on Koa Shan road, the one with the live band, one does not want to know what other surprises to expect after the lead singer starts her wolfish interpretation of the Cranberries. (yes, that song; "Oh my Head, Aargh my heaejiejhead") Well, like most things in this city, beauty and horror are going hand in hand. The Thai band seems to play a numerous covers of coldplay, Red Hot chilli Peppers, and Maroon 5's latest and only hit, "This Love". Whitch they play between every other song, by the way. Now, the band plays quite fine, I admit, and the aircondition is helping to make me stay as well, but the intriguing voice of the singer is really making me wonder if everybody is drinking because this is an Irish pub or just because of her. At one moment she has the voice of an angel, crystal clear and steady as my heartbeat. Hmm, steadier. But then, without warning, and without any major changes in the vocal requirements of the song, she sounds like the processed diet lavements while hurrying out of Koen Crucke's not so pittoresque exit-..
It doesn't stop people from dancing tough, and surely not from drinking. That this might be an unwise thing to do in Bangkok was becoming clear when one of the enthusiastic front-row dancers, a drunk English fella that consistently removed his shirt after one of his accompagning ladies put it back where it belonged, started to put a "No weapons" on his head. Quite soon, say, about three seconds after the sign was on top of his head, a Thai bouncer stood beside him. Well, bouncers in Thailand invariably are smaller than all present foreigners, but this doesn't ever seem to bother them from looking malicious into the drunken crowd. I've never seen one fight either. They tend to take care of things without Americanized bloody and punchy violence. Tonight I saw why this guys never start sweating when the next oversized drunk hamburger is making too much nuisance. As he politely pointed out that the sign was a no-touch/no-play sign, he subtly moved his upper body so that whilst talking to the unnoticing Farang, his gun would show under his shirt. Off course everybody noticed excpet the one that should have gotten the point, and the ladies allready started to sweat like no air-conditioned lady has ever sweat. (It is rumored that they don't sweat even when taking on a full-sized, locked-and-loaded rugby-squad, provided they have their airconditioning running. This however should be another story, and not one I'm willing to be part of.) So sure enough, not even one minute after the bouncer was out of sight, the sign was back on the red swollen head of the Englishman. Again, in no less than three seconds the bouncer was back at his side. Looking a little bit annoyed because of the short time memory of this boozing chap. Not sure if he had gotten the point last time, this time he did his trick a little bit less subtle. By this time, one of the ladies had managed to make the sign disappear before it fell into the hands of their beloved ATM-machine again. Love conquers all, they say, but that again will be an entirely different story and so far it doesn't include me...
When I left a little later, no blood was spilled, no faces lost, and time had slipped by again. Three o'clock in the morning, one would say by the sounds of the undistinguished animals that lived on the nearby temple-grounds. As I was enjoying my late night walk, I suddenly found myself standing in front of a very explosive spectacle. Two seemingly drunk Thai men where performing a strange ritual. So it seemed. Many other Thai and some waisted Farang stood by on a safe distance. Unshocked. One of the two had acquired a pole of some sort, maybe a parasol, and was trying to hit the other one on his head. I think he meant to go for the head, as the other body parts were spared considerably. The other one had found himself a plastic seat, that seemed to crumble bit by bit s it took the blows from his foe. I gathered from the bystanders body-language and facial expressions that this was a normal thing to see at three o'clock in the morning, so I decided to pass. I had to slip past the two odd-dancing figures, and while trying to slip past them, I could hear the pole swooshing as it went over my head. The audience gasped, and some thai vowels where shouted to the men. Sudenly, the chair became useless for the defendant, as the agressor dropped his pole and went up close to strike some uncontrolled blows on the defendants head. "How considerate", I remembered thinking,"these two chaps are having a disagreement of some sorts and instead of making me go around the block they just drop their zulu-weapons and fight like proper drunks, barefooted and bare-handed. All this not to hurt the bypassers. My my, some fine fella's they are indeed." Anyway, as I was moing on, I heard the spectacle was climbing to a highlight, and sure enough, from around the corner people started showing up to see the best part. Funny thing is, they all seemed to have been around that corner somewhere all the time. Because there wasn't much of a place to sit, drink, or eat in sight. And while they ran past me, they ran past a little spirit-house, and sure enough, even at this time of the night, while 7 metres further somebody was getting a red nose and blue eyes, these litle quiet people would make a Wai for the spirits, as not to upset them of course. Amazing Bangkok.