One of the things that, as a most observant fellow, caught Pancho’s attention was the amount of dogs that roamed the streets of Thailand. At closer inspection many were not actually stray dogs but had a place of residence. In comparison to western standards of living these dogs were however not trained as pets but were held more for the purpose of guarding property. At times they would stray however and take it upon themselves to discover the world. Pancho had had a few encounters with some of these creatures. He was not sure how narrowly he actually escaped being bitten, but their bark was fierce and at times they liked to chase.
A man of true valour, this obviously did not unnerve Pancho. He would have easily taken on a mangy dog of sorts.
On one occasion he actually had an experience that he thought quite amusing.
Riding his ancient postman bicycle there were always dogs somewhere on the short road from work to home. These dogs liked to lie on the road, not even bothering to get up when cars approached (unless they actually were about to hit them).
So on this occasion of riding his very old bike home, a dog crossed Pancho’s path. Some dogs could be said to be quite intelligent, this one evidently was not. Normally this would not be a problem, but Pancho did not have a normal bike. The problem with it was the following. The breaks were not the most trustworthy and one could only turn the steering bar so far to the side without ramming it into ones legs and causing the bike to fall apart.
Thus, the dog unwisely intercepted Pancho’s trajectory. Unsure whether the dog would stop or keep going Pancho could only vaguely swivel in either direction (which he tried unsuccessfully). The breaks not functioning properly, stopping in time was also a matter of impossibility despite Pancho’s infamous bicycle riding skills.
So the dog, in its insanity stepped in front of Pancho’s bike, while Pancho due to the old model was not able to break or change course effectively.
When the front wheel was merely a hair’s width away from inflicting excruciating pain (for the dog most likely) the beast finally realised in what deadly peril it found itself. Yelping to the highest degree it started skipping sideways as fast as it could.
This was the way out Pancho had been hoping for. Using his deafening break (only one break worked and it screeched horrendously which was another reason for not wanting to use it) he managed to slow down slightly. This gave the panicked beast the chance to jump out of the way and escape a sure death. Pancho looked over his shoulder quickly. He dearly hoped that no villager had come to the conclusion that Pancho was trying to kill their dogs. In his wise opinion, that impression would be most unfavourable. Finally unable to hold in a little laugh at the dog’s ludicrous idiocy Pancho rolled on home.
Another interesting and often encountered facet of Thai society is the alcohol consumed frequently referred to as whiskey when speaking English (some times it was whiskey, sometimes brandy and at times even vodka). In any case, Punee being a relatively remote village with nothing much to do in spare time, people turned to drinking for entertainment. Generally Pancho, did not mind a little tasty nip, but at times it was just a bit too much. This was not so much for his hardy physique but because it simply wasn’t the most interesting pass time. The occasion that convinced him that he maybe would prefer a little less involvement in these beverages was a Sunday afternoon. He had been invited to his advisors house for an extended meal. In fact the meal lasted from 2pm till 9pm. At the end of this Pancho was absolutely satisfied and could not eat even one more mouthful. In the process he had been also fed generous amounts of whiskey by one of the village policemen present at the “party”. Not minding at all, Pancho indulged this man and had as much as his advisor deemed suitable. Her being used to Thai standards of drinking tolerance, she stopped Pancho early, which considering the end, was probably a good move. After having joked about riding like a snake (because of drinking) he finally did set off on his bicycle in a fashion eerily similar to that of a snake. This however was obviously not due to alcohol but a result of his bicycle being so old. Not riding in a snake like fashion was quite a feat when just starting off on this vehicle. Accordingly his advisor’s impression of Pancho being drunk was strengthened.
Not being drunk however Pancho felt quite fit to join his host brother’s (Pinball’s) little gathering when he got home. This gathering was naturally for the means of finishing the whiskey bottle at hand. Not a problem for Pancho. With his world renowned fortitude he could probably pull off 2 or 3 of those bottles.
The next morning however, Pancho noticed that it had been a bit more than he had anticipated. He had failed to notice being drunk but the headache and flunky stomach were a good indication that he had had quite a bit.
Despite this life changing tragedy, Pancho’s iron discipline shone through and he set out to go for his usual morning run. In his opinion, the best cure for a hangover was a healthy dose of sport, with frequent water drinking and a hearty meal. Following his own advice Pancho was not surprised to feel a lot better after powering through the painful exercise. However the unrestful sleep, that frequently occured after drinking a lot, showed itself in Pancho being excessively tired. His advisor naturally picked up on this and quite correctly interpreted this as a symptom of a hangover. Pancho was now caught in a twist. He did not want to lie, for it was a hangover, but he did not want to admit that it was a hangover, as she would think it was a hangover from drinking only the alcohol at her bbq party. He was also not to tell her about drinking with his host brother as that was not deemed appropriate. For that matter neither was a hangover. Pancho’s tired brain came to the only possible conclusion. He responded with a firm “No”. His advisors grin indicated that she might only be joking. However as Pancho suspected there to be an inkling of truth behind every joke, as a man, he had to stand his ground and insist with a straight and solemn but very handsome face that this was not the case. And so he was left to further suffer in silence.
A man of true valour, this obviously did not unnerve Pancho. He would have easily taken on a mangy dog of sorts.
On one occasion he actually had an experience that he thought quite amusing.
Riding his ancient postman bicycle there were always dogs somewhere on the short road from work to home. These dogs liked to lie on the road, not even bothering to get up when cars approached (unless they actually were about to hit them).
So on this occasion of riding his very old bike home, a dog crossed Pancho’s path. Some dogs could be said to be quite intelligent, this one evidently was not. Normally this would not be a problem, but Pancho did not have a normal bike. The problem with it was the following. The breaks were not the most trustworthy and one could only turn the steering bar so far to the side without ramming it into ones legs and causing the bike to fall apart.
Thus, the dog unwisely intercepted Pancho’s trajectory. Unsure whether the dog would stop or keep going Pancho could only vaguely swivel in either direction (which he tried unsuccessfully). The breaks not functioning properly, stopping in time was also a matter of impossibility despite Pancho’s infamous bicycle riding skills.
So the dog, in its insanity stepped in front of Pancho’s bike, while Pancho due to the old model was not able to break or change course effectively.
When the front wheel was merely a hair’s width away from inflicting excruciating pain (for the dog most likely) the beast finally realised in what deadly peril it found itself. Yelping to the highest degree it started skipping sideways as fast as it could.
This was the way out Pancho had been hoping for. Using his deafening break (only one break worked and it screeched horrendously which was another reason for not wanting to use it) he managed to slow down slightly. This gave the panicked beast the chance to jump out of the way and escape a sure death. Pancho looked over his shoulder quickly. He dearly hoped that no villager had come to the conclusion that Pancho was trying to kill their dogs. In his wise opinion, that impression would be most unfavourable. Finally unable to hold in a little laugh at the dog’s ludicrous idiocy Pancho rolled on home.
Another interesting and often encountered facet of Thai society is the alcohol consumed frequently referred to as whiskey when speaking English (some times it was whiskey, sometimes brandy and at times even vodka). In any case, Punee being a relatively remote village with nothing much to do in spare time, people turned to drinking for entertainment. Generally Pancho, did not mind a little tasty nip, but at times it was just a bit too much. This was not so much for his hardy physique but because it simply wasn’t the most interesting pass time. The occasion that convinced him that he maybe would prefer a little less involvement in these beverages was a Sunday afternoon. He had been invited to his advisors house for an extended meal. In fact the meal lasted from 2pm till 9pm. At the end of this Pancho was absolutely satisfied and could not eat even one more mouthful. In the process he had been also fed generous amounts of whiskey by one of the village policemen present at the “party”. Not minding at all, Pancho indulged this man and had as much as his advisor deemed suitable. Her being used to Thai standards of drinking tolerance, she stopped Pancho early, which considering the end, was probably a good move. After having joked about riding like a snake (because of drinking) he finally did set off on his bicycle in a fashion eerily similar to that of a snake. This however was obviously not due to alcohol but a result of his bicycle being so old. Not riding in a snake like fashion was quite a feat when just starting off on this vehicle. Accordingly his advisor’s impression of Pancho being drunk was strengthened.
Not being drunk however Pancho felt quite fit to join his host brother’s (Pinball’s) little gathering when he got home. This gathering was naturally for the means of finishing the whiskey bottle at hand. Not a problem for Pancho. With his world renowned fortitude he could probably pull off 2 or 3 of those bottles.
The next morning however, Pancho noticed that it had been a bit more than he had anticipated. He had failed to notice being drunk but the headache and flunky stomach were a good indication that he had had quite a bit.
Despite this life changing tragedy, Pancho’s iron discipline shone through and he set out to go for his usual morning run. In his opinion, the best cure for a hangover was a healthy dose of sport, with frequent water drinking and a hearty meal. Following his own advice Pancho was not surprised to feel a lot better after powering through the painful exercise. However the unrestful sleep, that frequently occured after drinking a lot, showed itself in Pancho being excessively tired. His advisor naturally picked up on this and quite correctly interpreted this as a symptom of a hangover. Pancho was now caught in a twist. He did not want to lie, for it was a hangover, but he did not want to admit that it was a hangover, as she would think it was a hangover from drinking only the alcohol at her bbq party. He was also not to tell her about drinking with his host brother as that was not deemed appropriate. For that matter neither was a hangover. Pancho’s tired brain came to the only possible conclusion. He responded with a firm “No”. His advisors grin indicated that she might only be joking. However as Pancho suspected there to be an inkling of truth behind every joke, as a man, he had to stand his ground and insist with a straight and solemn but very handsome face that this was not the case. And so he was left to further suffer in silence.
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