Where is the real Thai taste?
I am Thai. A Thai who grew up in a modern household; yet, I had the fortunate opportunity to witness the greatness of the Thai past. I was the last generation of my family to see the real Thai way from within my very own teakwood fence.
I remember Bangkok in a calmer way than most people now. The coolness of fresh air with the faint sweet aroma of Thai flowers – DokJumpee, DokPuth, DokMali, DokKaew, and DokPiguln- in combination with the sound of brass bells from a wooded tram on which I would ride along Rajchadahmneun Avenue, was the Bangkok that I knew. My mother was the oldest daughter in a family of five children.
Back then, she and her eldest brother were the two who were married and had their own children. We lived in one of three houses on my maternal grandparents’ large property on the west side of the Grand Chaopraya, the river so deep that it supports not only domestic traffic but is also the path for international freight ships, making it the major blood vessel of the country.
My grandparents occupied the largest house, also the first house at the front of the property, which faced a major road but sat far enough back and was disguised by many large and shady fruit trees. My eldest uncle and his family lived in the second house in the middle, and our house was set farthest back on the property. I was very happy with my never-ending activity from playing with my playmates ‘from tree-to tree,’ and waiting every afternoon for a Chinese “Olieng,” or iced coffee, iced tea and sweet snack goodies, vendor to arrive in his boat in the canal- “klong-” that marked our property line and the neighbor’s in the back.
I had many playmates, and I vaguely remember they all lived with us on our property- as to where on the property, I wasn’t sure. A few years ago, I asked my mother about them and received confirmation that those were our- or, rather, my grandparents’- hired help and their families who had been there since my maternal great-grandmother’s day. I was surprised that I could remember back that far, since my mother said that they had moved out when I was very young. She also confirmed my memory of the tram but said that it stopped running soon after I was born. I don’t know if I’m dreaming, but I have flashes of memory of this wonderful time, here and there, throughout my life.
My great-grandmother- the mother of my maternal grandmother- represented the real Thai extended family. She was a Thai-Mon. (Mon – the nation that got swallowed up by Myanmar-Burma back then. The Mons relocated to Siam since the Golden Age of Ayuthaya.) The word “Thai” means freedom, and coming to Thailand meant to open the door of opportunity among the peaceful people and under the cool shade of the Great King.
My great-grandfather was a Chinese boy who came to Bangkok with his family. He grew up to be an inventor, an author, a scholar, and a businessman who owned and operated an international trading company with his old country, China. Along with a British physician, Dr. Bradley, they started the first English language newspaper in Thailand and also invented the first Thai typeset for the typewriter. Later, my great-grandfather was granted a title from the King.