The weather has been surprisingly cool. Neither breezy nor stagnant. Not cold, but not the humid swelter common enough to the beaches of Ko Samet. Apple Weather swears the temperatures are in the mid-80's, but it's hard to believe it. Perhaps it's just the humidity isn't as high as usual. I know from hot yoga the 50 percent humidity is what kills me far more than the 102-104 degrees in the room. Turn down the humidity and surprisingly (and maybe comparatively) 104 isn't so bad….
Whatever the cause, Ko Samet has had almost ideal weather. Not even a sweat sitting in my beach chair and the water feels warm rather than what cools me off. Two nights ago, it was 74 degrees – the kind of weather that causes Thais to pull out their jackets (seriously). It's almost Christmas in Thailand….
To my surprise, the office manager at Vongduean Resort asked me if I would join on Christmas Eve for a prix fixe (my words, not hers) dinner they're planning – with a menu they have not yet decided upon. She seemed to be polling the guests to figure out if it's worth the staff's while, emphasizing that she's looking for a headcount to be sure. I told her I'm in. For all the Christmases I've spent in Thailand, none have involved a Christmas dinner. I have no other plans anyway.
The manager brought this up to me as I was leaving my first included Vongduean Resort buffet breakfast which like so many buffet breakfasts was fine, but not great. Nonetheless, it was there and how often do you get pineapple fried rice at breakfast? Sitting out on the dining patio by the water with so many other resort guests, I got a better sense of who is staying here.
Quiet and secluded Ao Vongduean is understandably popular with families and there were a number of those of different nationalities, ethnicities with children of various ages. A fair number were Thai-European/American/Caucasian mixed families which I find cool. The first family I ever met in Thailand was American-Thai and I marveled at how their three boys would with such different languages, toggle between them mid-sentence.
What attracted my attention more – as it always does on Ko Samet – and which I have written about before – are the Thai-Caucasian couples who don't meet my template of what belongs. Older white men with middle-age to younger Thai women. I'm more grossed out by a 70 year-old German man with a twenty-something Thai girl than I am a 60 year-old Aussie with a 45 year-old Thai woman – but both situations catch my eye as something that doesn't feel right, especially when there's a clear language barrier between them. The Aussie-Thai couple I just referenced was on my boat over to the island and the man was making fairly simple jokes that she clearly didn't understand – so she just defaulted to holding his hand. Most likely they had known each other for no more than 24 hours.
In other cases – and I have met many of these over the years – an older caucasian man marries a younger Thai woman and they have kids. This may be his second or third family – and in some cases, the first. Stevie, the British owner of our villa last year fell into this category. He married a local Thai woman for his second marriage, had a second round of children and remained in Thailand, now able to buy property and operate a business vis-a-vis his marriage. He seemed very happy and prosperous.
Thailand is a place where middle-aged to old white men come to start over. Maybe they do it in a creepy and/or short-term way. Maybe it's legitimate love and family. Whatever the reason and however it's done – Thailand makes space for it. But why? Until now, I have always accepted the answer I was first given – that Thais have a very accepting culture and the opportunity for material gain from marrying a foreigner is substantial. These things are both true, so I filed it away in the solved mysteries folder of my mind.
Then I wondered the other day – why not Bali? The cost of living is as cheap or cheaper, the Balinese welcome foreigners and I have known a number of inter-cultural marriages there. Yet Bali is not filled with these kinds of mismatched couples where power, money and commodified sex seem part of the equation. Are the Balinese that much more immune to the tantalizing economic power of foreign men? Is there culture that much less "accepting"? Is Thailand preferable to most of these men? That's hard for me to imagine.
Sure, Indonesian law is made on Java, not Bali and given the muslim majority in the country, is unsurprisingly harsh on prostitution. But not all of these couples are a result of prostitution. What makes Thailand – not Bali, not Cambodia, and not Laos – the place for white men to make a new start? I'm not sure I have an answer, but I know the one I've been given doesn't make complete sense to me anymore.
Whatever the answer may be, two more questions remain for me:
- Why do I always take such curiosity in this phenomenon?
- Is it bad?
My reflexive answer to the second question has always been a resounding "yes". At least in the aggregate. I have met Thai-Foreigner couples who make all the sense in the world. They're in loving relationships as equals taking on life together, often raising families. Intercultural marriages happen everywhere and so there must be a quotient of them in Thailand that are what I would deem completely legit.
It's that other, large quotient that always gets my attention and bothers me. Transactional relationships and marriages of convenience feel yucky. Moreover, relationships with power imbalances or that are inherently based on power imbalances feel wrong and creep me out.
But what of the other side?
I'm getting divorced. I've thought a lot about what "starting over" means at 45. At the moment a new relationship doesn't sound good at all. It probably will at some point further out when life feels more settled and more of what hurts is in the rearview mirror. Finding someone in your 40's is different than in your 20's or 30's even. Life is more complicated and people come with more baggage. There's less time to date, more mistakes to try to avoid repeating and a smaller dating pool. It's also easy to feel less confident. You're older than last time you dated. There's the pain of loss, the circumstances of the divorce and whatever narrative you attributed to them.
I can understand the appeal of going somewhere that feels easier to "start over" – a place that props you up when you're feeling down. Who wouldn't want to be attractive without trying – regardless of his age? Who doesn't enjoy having hand in the relationship? Power in society too. And after everything that went wrong before – wouldn't it be nice to be less exposed, less vulnerable?
I get it now in a way I didn't when I wrote about it in 2011 or how I saw it in 20o1-2002. I was judgier then – it made less sense to me. I can relate in a new way. Some of these guys were and maybe are still in real pain. They feel – perhaps legitimately – wronged in their prior situations. They want respect and love if they can get it. They want the joys of the relationship and family without the vulnerability or the challenge.
Yet I'm not sure that gives it a pass. It still seems yucky and in a sense taking the easy way out. Our growth as human beings comes in our ability to surmount and overcome. We're defined by what we do when things are not easy. Integrity is measured in part by living in congruity with our values and while we all stumble, what matters is that we keep working on it.
The first question, though is one I have more trouble answering. I know I'm not the only one who looks at the bizarre phenomenon of old white guys with young Thai girls in places like Ko Samet with the attraction of staring at a terrible car accident on the side of the road. I've had many friends and a soon-to-be-ex-wife who have done the same. It's hard not to stare into the vortex. But why is it such a vortex?
Is it a violation of a social construct from our culture that isn't necessarily a valid universal truth? Are we addicted to a taboo? Does it frighten some part of us? Disgust is usually about impurity and our reactions to having something sullied or dirtied – particularly sacred spaces being ruined by the profane. What sacredness do we fear has been violated? Why are two other people's actions that in no way directly impact us of such interest and relevance?
We might have had the same reaction about two men sitting at dinner together holding hands across the table 20 or 30 years ago. Would that have been right? Just like with homosexuality, whatever your views on it, isn't it best to let two consenting adults go about their business if it isn't harming anyone? You don't have to agree to respect someone's space. Surely we have more interesting things to talk about than an old white man and a young Thai prostitute or "freelancer" as some are called, having dinner…?
Or maybe not. Lin-Manuel Miranda's, "Love is love is love is love is love…." speech at the 2016 Tony Awards doesn't hold up so well as "An arrangement is an arrangement is an arrangement is an arrangement."
Regardless of what I think and stare at, old white man-young Thai prostitute vacations probably aren't changing anytime soon. So, if I'm going to enjoy Ko Samet, it's probably best to accept and move on as best as possible – much like cigarette smoke in France.
At the end of the day, I don't have answers or conclusions but some questions about myself and my views that I plan to sit with. I try to walk the fine line between being open to the perspectives other cultures bring and being sure to hang on to my own values. Every new and uncomfortable thing we encounter abroad is an opportunity to ask questions and evaluate ourselves and the assumptions we come with – most of which we were given. At the same time, we also receive many gifts of hard earned wisdom from well curated legacies. So much of life isn't just not throwing the baby out with the bathwater, but making sure you know which is which.
