Spring Cleaning

The family estate had changed over the last few weeks. The weather had become warmer, in fact alot warmer, scorching even. So a few plants here and there hung limply thirsting for a few drops of fresh rain or even just dew. Pancho himself hadn't moved. 30 days and 30 nights it had been. He had waited for fate to finally arrive and plant that idea in his head. The fact that this idea wouldn't come by sitting around slowly dawned on the poor fellow. Despite his frightening intelligence, his wisdom still seemed to be lacking at times. With a sigh he stood up and brushed off the dust and pollen that had settled on him during his stupendous daze. The gearshafts of his brain slowly started grinding again, smashing cogs against another and reigniting the spark of genius. 

Previously he had not imagined it, but this year in Thailand had taken its toll on him, mentally as well as physically. It had taken a whole while for everything to sink in, so really it had been no wonder that no fresh and blindingly preposterous ideas came into his mind over that period of time. Now the matter was settled. And Pancho found himself at quite an interesting point in his life. Virtually all doors stood open to him. Good looks, intelligence, wisdom ripened by those 30 days, fitness and a completed education... The world was his for the taking. If he could just decide how it would best be done... But with a twinkle in his eye Pancho wandered through the expansive family estate. Through the small pockets of deep forest filled with game, over sun drenched meadows and by pleasantly cooling lakes and ponds. A few days of relaxation and mental stimulation and things would start rolling just as it was meant to be.

And later that day Pancho knew he had made a start. After checking his endless fan emails (they had amassed considerably over the last month) he encountered a curious website. A blog in fact which he found quite interesting. So interesting that he decided to contact the fellow who published, wrote and presumably thought it up. He waited for this kindred souls reply with bated breath...is still waiting, but presumably for not too much longer.

For the readers who may have in interest in these matters, this is the blog

http://principlesofbeing.blogspot.com/

Time flies

Pancho sat in silence. In deep contemplative silence. Some people would probably even guess he had passed on or fallen into a coma. That’s how good Pancho was at being contemplative. A true master of contemplation at work in fact. The silence was only apparent on the outside however. Inside his exaggeratingly well disposed cranium there was an incessant humdrum of voices and chitchat. Well, not really. His head was simply filled with emptiness. It was a void but also a realm in which every possible idea could exist simultaneously. It was just a matter of letting an idea burst like a bubble and manifest itself in his mind. To some this may sound like insanity. Others would claim that Pancho actually had the answer to the universe in his head. And lo and behold, so it was. But there is and always has been a subtle difference between infinite potential and the actual outcome.
For example, when cooking. You may have the complete ingredients to a perfect dish of pasta, but put the pasta onto a boil, walk away and get distracted by that hilarious video on youtube and WHAM, there you have it. Even the most talented master chef can not save those drenched and soggy noodles. By the way, Pancho was quite a talented a cook, but that’s a different matter.
Anyway, this is how a master mind worked. At least, knowing that he was a master mind Pancho took it for the way every master mind worked. Sitting there waiting for an idea to mysteriously pop out of the crackle of unworthy ideas. And Pancho was not just waiting for any odd idea. No my dear reader, not at all. He was in fact waiting for an idea that would revolutionise the world. An idea so unthinkably new that it would take the world by storm and open people’s eyes with a blinding clarity. In a good way that is. Meaning that there would be no way that some religious fundamentalist would take that idea as proof that Pancho was dangerous. He didn’t particularly feel like being burned on the haystack for being radical.
But alas, Pancho had been sitting for a while and this fantastic idea was evidently running late. So slowly his mind started drifting off into memory. You see, he was not any longer in the Kingdom of Thailand, he had left that place of eternal sunshine and friendly smiles a while back when his stint there ended.
As expected he had been paraded around a few last times and taken farewell from so many of his new found fans, that he already had a faint longing to return. Especially now, that the spring weather in Europe was rainy and cold.
But then, there were other aspects that he did not miss. Such as the constant nagging feeling that he should write down his memories of the time, for the multitude of his fans of course. But to be honest he failed to find the time to do that the closer he came to the end of his stay. There were so many stories to tell. Too many in fact. Too many wonderful stories of teaching little devils, eating disgusting looking food that was actually fantastically delicious, being kidnapped by lady boys and having encounters with a variety other fascinating people. Too many such stories because even Pancho’s amazingly productive and long life was finite and he did prefer to live it compared to sitting around remembering it (he knew he could do that when he became an old whiny grandpa: “Ah the old days, you know grandson, when I was your age…”). So Pancho decided to move on and divert the deep well of his talents to other things.
This was actually the reason why he was sitting here in silence in the expanses of his endless family estate, waiting for his encounter with fate (Not that he thought fate was particularly good at keeping an appointment). He needed to find a new project into which he could hurl his dazzling greatness. And, well, as much as he refused to acknowledge it, this was proving quite a challenge. But where would Pancho Wodehouse be now if he did not accept a good challenge!

Of Broken Down Cars and Elephants

Pancho had now made his first acquaintance with breaking down cars in Thailand. To anybody with even an inkling of an intellect (such as good old Pancho himself) this did not come as a surprise. The cars that one found traveling the moonscape roads tended to be as beaten up as the roads themselves. Some of the cars or trucks were even as old as the seventies, so there was no surprise in frequent break downs. What was actually surprising was the fact that a lot of them still functioned quite well. People would repair the vehicles (also motorcycles) almost indefinitely. Few people could afford to buy a brand new car. But Pancho saw this as an upside in Thailand. As with clothes and other things, objects were used up until the moment that they were well and truly useless. The new objects would start with the richer people who would use them until they felt they could discard them, either by selling or donating and so objects would be handed down through the social strata ensuring that nothing was really wasted (except for fuel through constant unnecessary use of air conditioning and using a car or a motorcycle to drive even less than 100 meters). This meant that second hand cars, even in comparatively appalling condition were a lot more expensive than in Europe for instance. What Pancho found however was that those old cars that were built in the simplest ways without fancy electronics and so forth were the ones that functioned best.
On Pancho’s trip to Surin, with his host father, mother and advisor they unfortunately traveled in a car that had a relatively complicated set up and was aging. Even before their departure Pancho’s host father was trying to get the cooling fan of the engine to work. Eventually, after about an hour long struggle things worked out and they set out on the road to the province bordering on Cambodia. Pancho’s host father came from a little village in Surin that was famous for being the home of hundreds of elephants. The elephant village. The purpose of this trip was to attend the annual Elephant show when all the village elephants, rented out throughout Thailand for labour and touristic work were expected back to perform in a huge spectacle.
But naturally, before they got close to Surin, the fan stopped working once again and the car overheated. They barely managed to find a mechanic’s garage before things would have gotten out of hand.
And so, the mechanics took the whole fan apart and started fixing what they could. Pancho and his advisor crossed the road and sat down in front of a convenience shop waiting for matters to improve. His host mother was asleep in the car and his host father was busy watching the mechanics work. Sitting around aimlessly went on for about two hours before a family friend appeared with his wife and daughter. They graciously came in two cars and offered them the big comfortable one to travel on to Surin and return it on their way back when their own car was fixed. Pancho thought this an excellent idea as by now he was quite sick of sitting around and waiting. In fact he was quite tired also.
The trip did not take too much longer but Pancho after having had a beer with his host dad (drinking and driving is an acceptable way to spend your time) could not keep his eyes open.
They reached the family house in the city of Surin quite late. Everybody (even including his Excellency Pancho Wodehouse) would only have a short night’s sleep as they would have to leave the house before dawn.
Pancho’s host father’s family being from the village none of them had to pay entry. Additionally they all had an early breakfast with some of the performers (including one especially huge elephant) as befits a guest of honour such as Pancho of course. The breakfast was very welcome as that morning was actually quite cold. It was the first time and last time that Pancho shivered in Thailand, though naturally he had to tell the Thais that this temperature was not cold at all! In fact it was just below 10 degrees. On a European scale this was not cold yet he would never have expected such a temperature in tropical Thailand. Having been surprised he of course was not dressed accordingly and had to warm himself by the fireside (that was used for cooking) and with hot coffee.
The show started around 9 o’clock and went on for 3 hours. The rising sun quickly heated up everything to the usual sweltering temperature and Pancho was happy that they had found seats that were in the shade and that had a fantastic view of the spectacle. That was of course until hundreds of Thais assembled in front of them to have a better view which meant that Pancho and theothers had to stand up in order to see.
The show itself was fantastic. Pancho had seen elephants before but never 280 at once. This fact together with a well choreographed show and the epic scale made it very enjoyable. Pancho was fortunate to have the opportunity to see this as it was held only on one weekend of the year. Part of the show was a tug of war event where 60 humans were to fight one elephant. I’ll leave it to the imagination of the reader to determine who won. However if you knew the true winner you could be surprised by the fact that Pancho himself with his Herculean strength took part in this contest.
The group returned to Phunee that same day and picked up the not yet quite fixed car on the way. They had to wait several more hours before it was road worthy again. And as usual after a trip in Thailand on returning home Pancho was in dire need of a bed and sleep.

Harvest

Free time and no pressure. Oh those were the joys of an easy life! These were things one could only really appreciate after directly experiencing the opposite. And this was the case for Pancho. After those two tremendous weeks of endless training and fatigue culminating in an epic crescendo Pancho was overjoyed to be able to savour normal life once again. That sweet bliss of not constantly operating at breaking point. An occasional challenge was quite welcome, but Pancho had realised that too much was just a constant drain on energy.
Despite having been additionally strained by having to work the normal 8 to 9 hour day at school, Pancho secretly admired the zeal that some professional athletes upheld. Training that hard took much of the joy out of the sport. As it is with all things, clever Pancho knew that moderation and relatively frequent variation of lifestyles was what maintained joy and pleasure in any activity. Pancho was no fool after all. But he realised this more than ever now that he did not have to wake up at 5:30am any longer. He was not tired throughout the day nor saw teaching as a burden (he actually started enjoying it again). And he could spend his evenings in a more relaxed manor than training hard for several hours and then going straight to sleep. Pancho literally felt as free as a kite.
Part of this freedom however also included having to attend to other duties once again from which he was excused before. One of these duties, which was in fact quite interesting and provided this variety necessary for an interesting life, was taking part in activities that constituted the everyday Thai country lifestyle. Pancho was invited to help in the rice harvest for a day (or more if he wished. Somehow he was not convinced this would be the case though).
So early on a Monday morning (it was holiday time, or rice harvest time for all those who had a farm to attend to) one of the family workers, who had 2 weeks off to harvest rice at his own parents’ farm, came to pick Pancho up. His parents’ place was in the proper country side, where if the roads were ever paved, they looked like the surface of the moon, with hundreds and thousands of potholes. Dirt roads passed through acres and acres of yellow rice fields waiting to be harvested. The worker’s (Jack’s) farm was situated on one of these dirt roads. It was surrounded completely by rice fields and several palm trees that provided shade from the blistering sun. The farm consisted of the animal pens under traditional straw roves and an additional structure with the usual corrugated iron roof found in Thailand. It was perfectly quiet here except for the incessant crow of the cocks in the yard (Pancho found this quite annoying at times, especially when they would start crowing in the middle of the night). After having had a small second breakfast or brunch Pancho and Jack started out. One wore long sleeved tops and trousers in order to be protected from the sun. Additionally a wide rimmed hat was good. Pancho was given an umbrella hat, which literally looked like he was wearing an umbrella on his head. It suited him fantastically. Initially Pancho needed some time to get accustomed to handling the sickle and grabbing the bundles of rice but soon he was just about as proficient as Jack or his parents. A master of the universe would obviously not find any trouble in such a measly little exercise. Despite being convinced of the ease of the task while they had started in the shade of a tree, after a while it was inevitable to be working in the sun. Within minutes Pancho’s shirt was soaked through with sweat. A bucket of ice water stood ready to provide the necessary refreshment, for drinking.
Pancho was a type of person who liked to get on with work and get things done. He had so many splendid plans for life and the world that he could not help working extremely efficiently. Rice harvesting and the general farmer’s life, as he found out were not compatible with such a mindset. The work of harvesting, then threshing and whatever else was needed was never ending. The only difference was that things worked in the rhythm of the seasons. There was no use in rushing to finish something if in the end one would just have to wait around. So work went on but at a pleasant pace. There was no use in getting tired out. There was no use in finishing faster as tomorrow would be just the same as today or yesterday. Pancho felt that he needed some kind of goal to work towards which made him realize how life must have changed dramatically for people in so called civilized countries. Going from the agricultural society, where all things got done in their proper time to a high pressured working environment where nothing could be completed quickly enough. Why was this? Why couldn’t the completion of a project take as long as it took? Why did the profit motive have to drive everything to more efficiency when really there was not really that much difference between having a 21 inch or 50 inch TV. Is it not the way you spend your time more important than the way you spend your money? It was just an interesting observation for Pancho to make while bending over, cutting rice till his left hand was full, placing the bundle on the floor until 5 bundles were heaped up and then starting the next little accumulation.
After lunch Pancho felt incredibly sleepy. The heat was stifling and no breeze came to refresh the workers so one after another they drifted off to sleep in hammocks.
When the sun had lowered slightly and lost some of its intensity, and Pancho had slept enough, work resumed for a bit before Jack decided to drive Pancho back home. He probably had had enough of cutting rice himself for the day. Despite a relatively relaxed speed they did get about half a field done. With a bout 15 more fields to go the whole procedure would most likely take a month. A month of work sounded long, but not if there wasn’t any stress involved. In the end Pancho was actually not that tired at the end of the day. Despite not wanting to be a farmer in his future, how could one if one was destined for greatness...he saw the benefits of such a lifestyle.
But Pancho did not have this lifestyle, even if he had wanted to. This week should have actually been a holiday. But as Pancho had already learned, in rural Thailand one takes it easy during work and when holidays come around one isn’t too shy to dedicate a little time towards said work. So Pancho was booked out, especially to go to other schools and teach there or support them in their teaching of English. He wasn’t all too happy about these circumstances. Who would be about having to give up official holiday time, which Pancho would have of course used extremely efficiently and wisely without the slightest procrastination. But there was nothing to be done. With his incredible intellect he managed to realize that despite being THE superstar he was he couldn’t exactly go prancing around demanding things. He had come to Thailand to offer the people some of his goodness, some of the abundance of his greatness and in a good cause holidays did not exist. As one of his favourite artists once said (He had been shot before a concert and still went on with the performance) "The people, who were trying to make this world worse... are not taking a day off. How can I? Light up the darkness."
So Pancho submitted to these proposals with a smile.
On one of these trips he was in his coordinator’s car just passing through Ubon Ratchatani. The school they were visiting was not exactly close. Just as they were passing through the center of town the engine tied. Immediately Pancho’s hope lit up brightly. Did this mean they would maybe not make it? He would not have to teach some unresponsive class? His coordinator mentioned something about the battery having died. Pancho suppressed his smile (he was very good at looking serious when he wasn’t. In fact he found few things in life worth being serious about). But suddenly as they were all crowding around the bonnet a stranger appeared out of nowhere and asked what was wrong. After Pancho’s coordinator had answered he rushed off through the thick traffic pouring around the car blocking half the road. Before he had really noticed what was going the man was back and with dismay Pancho realized that he had returned with a new battery. The old one was replaced within seconds and everybody climbed back into the car. His coordinator pointed across the road to a car battery shop. This time Pancho cracked a smile of humour. What a situation. They break down and just happen to do it in front of the one shop that can fix the problem. Outwardly he was smiling as if being overjoyed that things had worked out, but inwardly he couldn’t help but curse such ironic luck.
In the end the teaching went well, the children loved Pancho as was to be expected and all was butter and cakes.
In fact Pancho had many more guest visits at other schools after and although he never liked them (Teaching classes for the first time was always difficult as one could never judge their level or commitment properly) he always felt rewarded afterwards for having offered the children something they would not get at any other time.
There were many foreign teachers in Thailand in fact but most of them taught at rich schools that did not need them quite as dearly as the poor country schools. When one had Thai English teachers that hardly understood any of the language it was evident that a foreigner could have a great impact. And if it was only for the students to hear what the language is really supposed to sounds like (Some Thai English teachers were impossible to understand). In the end, Pancho was fulfilling his duty and the fact that students nearly begged him to teach their classes was ample reward (though he did like receiving some kind of payment and liked his free time, and regretted the few classes that were so lazy that they did not bother to show up.)

Stories...

The morning after was not half as bad as Pancho had been told. Superboy had only kicked him in the left thigh. As some of the more intelligent readers might conclude from this the left thigh was the only part of his body that felt more or less uncomfortable. But Pancho had been given ample remedies for it and did not find the pain all too crippling. What ate at his mind much more when he woke up was the fact that he had officially lost the fight when he himself as well as (as he was told) most of the others were under the impression that he had won.
From this day on, every time he thought back to this event and thought of his sloppy performance or saw the less than perfect event as video footage his heart rate accelerated and his mind was gripped by a strong urge to rectify what had gone wrong. He knew that he could perform far better but the fact that he had failed to show it weighed on his lofty mind. And yet while in Thailand there was nothing to be done. He could not combine is teaching job and all his social engagements with the necessary time needed for training. Additionally the training here was evidently not suited to his individual style. As good as his coach had been for Thai fighters he needed an approach that was balanced between traditional Muay Thai and boxing. So Pancho wounded in his very humble pride resorted to trying not to remember this episode until he was actually able to rectify the mishap.
But occasionally talk about it would resurface and Pancho heard two vastly different stories as to why he had lost when he should have won (Not that it put Pancho’s mind at ease for his still not quite stellar performance).
The first story he heard through his host mother and who had been told by one of the family workers. The local head of the mafia had bet a lot of money on Superboy winning. Not wanting to lose his money the judges naturally had to make the fat Thai kid win. This explanation seemed quite plausible and really did not differ from any other place in the world where bets are accepted on fights or sporting competitions.
The second story came out several months later. Pancho did not believe this one but thought it quite funny as it represented one of his host father’s tendencies to talk a lot of nonsense when he was drunk.
The story went that his host father being a local man of great influence behind the scenes had decided that Superboy should be the winner despite having unofficially lost the fight. The reasoning was that Superboy losing was bad for his career prospects in Thai boxing while it did not matter to a foreigner. Pancho smiled at this and did not reply what he thought. The typically narrow minded way of thinking displayed by people only familiar with one culture. Granted, Pancho did not intend to try and make a career in the sport (There were more important things to be achieved in the world), however judging by the amount of alcohol and the little training Superboy did, Pancho could not really see it making any difference to the fat slob. But he kept this little insight to himself.
And so the matter was semi forgotten and set aside for a more opportune time to do anything about it.

In the Red Corner

Out of the Phunee team pancho was the one to fight last, following the little boy and Porn. His fight was listed as the 9th out of 15.
The nap Pancho had attempted failed. Despite being relaxed and calm the bumpy ground and loud noises around him made sleep a difficult enterprise. So eventually he roused himself to watch some of the fights. Aside from witnessing this spectacle he also felt the urge to slip out under the plastic tarp to go to the toilet in the bush land beyond. He returned just in time to happily observe the little boy win his fight by elbow knockout. Then urged by his advisor Pancho met Superboy and got a preflight photo with him. As all Thais Superboy was thoroughly friendly and polite, despite the fact that he must have felt like his doom was imminent.
When the youngest member of their team won his fight (at number 5) Pancho ignored the comment by one of the spectators that he would be up in two fights. He thought this guy to be one of the drunk buffoons that you find in many such places. So while vigorously agreeing he thought to himself “read the fighting order you idiot, I am listed at number 9”. Returning to the Phunee camp he watched as they started preparing Porn for his fight. Suddenly something caught his attention though. The announcer said something through the loudspeakers that slightly disconcerted Pancho. All he understood was that fight number 7 would be Superboy vs Pancho Wingchattour...
His camp suddenly froze along with him. Pancho had no time to realize that he himself had been the buffoon for not listening to the friendly fellow earlier.
Everybody jumped up and rushed Pancho onto the rice mat. He took off his clothes and stood there in thai boxing shorts while 4 people started applying Vaseline and namman muay for the final time. When Pancho got his hands free he grabbed a drink he had prepared containing a tad of whiskey and an energy drink just to make sure he did not run out of steam during his performance.
Despite the tempestuous commotion around him, Pancho was still amazingly calm. The singularly expert control he had over his thoughts and mind made him as calm as in the days of his youth. The days when he had to sit exams that would as they told him decide the fate of his future, whether he ended up a bum or a billionaire. And instead of feeling excited he couldn’t help but put it into perspective. Pancho’s hand wraps were now prepared expertly by his coach (Porn’s father) and some sort of glucose drunk was mixed additionally for him, to maintain his energy. The glass was handed to him. As Pancho had not had a fight before he was not aware of what exactly was to be done. He downed the whole glass which caused everybody around him to protest loudly. Pancho felt a faint worry that this could prove disastrous but was relieved that their only worry was him being too full of liquid. As there was no danger of immediate death through glucose overdose or anything else utterly ridiculous he failed to worry. As if having a full belly would be an issue to a man of such greatness. Throughout all these preparations Pancho was still remarkebly calm and unexcited, with the exception of making sure he managed to put is box (the groin protection) on. It would prove to be of singular importance in fact.
When he was finally prepared, including having put on the box, the previous fight had already ended and it was time to approach the ring. Pancho slipped his flip flops on and was escorted by his supporters to his corner. He calmly climbed up the metal ladder while all eyes were on him. Superboy had not approached the ring yet. He climbed over the ropes. And once inside the ring, people down below started shouting last minute instructions to him with an unintelligible clamour. His gloves were put on and laced up. And finally Superboy found himself on stage as well. The Phunee’s mayor greeted the two fighters (in honour of Pancho) on stage. Then the traditional Thai boxing music started and the time had come to pay their respects. Every fighter performs a dance called the Ram muay which pays respect to their teachers. Each fighter conducts similar moves in different combinations creating their own personal dance. Pancho’s lasted significantly longer than Superboy’s an ended with a courteous bow at the end (Porn’s personal little touch that Pancho quite liked). And finally the referee called the two fighters in the middle and clarified that Pancho understood any rules and commands he would give in Thai. It would be three rounds now. Pancho still calm but feeling a certain excitement in his limbs had a clear plan on how to make this fight a spectacle.
Then the bell rang and they were off. Pancho in his red shorts and Superboy also in his red shorts (luckily there was no issue distinguishing who was who). They touched gloves. As usual for Pancho when starting off he took it easy and just tried to teep (push kick) Superboy in his fat stumpy legs. And then Pancho outdid himself by trying a pathetic little kick… he realised immediately that that would not do. So in following up he went for a proper teep which was blocked however. Superboy acting as if he were relaxed and all (how could one when facing Pancho) threw a kick at Pancho’s now exposed leg, but he skipped aside spectacularly nimby. The next kick connected and hard crashed hard into Pancho’s leg. Pancho realised that he had been hit but still it did not seem to register fully. His body in turn seemed to have registered. Not being used to beign hit any longer, for the lack of adequate training (sparring). Instinct took over. All the preconceived plans Pancho had devised with his genius and those impeccable tactics were gone. Wiped clean from his mind. All that remained was the raw animalistic fight or run mechanism. And Pancho’s indestructible sense of superiority of course. And this superior instinct was definitely set on fighting. He continuously advanced on Superboy who seemed to skip away like a little fairy. Bam! Bam! Bam! Superboy would repeatedly thump Pancho in the left leg while he threw wild punches back against which Superboy could only lift his flabby paws in pathetic defence.
Luckily he acted in this way. Both fighters were unaware that if the fat kid had been in any way able to box he could have easily picked through the superhero’s overconfident defence. The fight loitered on, with Superfatboy kicking and Pancho punching. One of Pancho’s wild and uncontrolled bouts of hooks connected strongly however and Superboy went to down. Here Pancho made his first crucial mistake. His thinking was evidently running on instinct only. Otherwise he would have confronted his opponent standing up and rushing to exact revenge. Instead Pancho retreated and failed to capitalise on the momentary weakness.
In between they their pathetic exchanges they circled each other before Superboy would skip away again when Pancho tried to make a move. Thus the end of the round felt like it was long overdue and luckily he had no time or energy to concentrate on what had just happened as in hindsight Pancho would have been very unhappy to say the least with this spectacularly bad performance. He had come to offer a spectacle of never before witnessed brilliance and instead it more or less drifted off into a poor slogging match.

But very opposite to his usual uncanny talent of observation, caged in his instinctive behaviour Pancho failed to realise any of these facts. During the break both fighters settled down on their little metal stools and relaxing had their legs and arms massaged to loosen up the muscles.
And in no time the bell rang again and round 2 was on.
They tapped their gloves and Pancho lost no time this time going in punching and driving the fatso to the ropes. He landed a nice punch and then went on to clinch.
After having been broken up both contenders were nervous about being hit and only tried to attack half heartedly. Slowly Pancho felt shame creeping up from somewhere at this very unspectacular performance here. Where was the greatness he had promised?!
But round two improved somewhat. Or one claim it was more interesting. Life in the ring was definitely more heated. Both “fighters” frequently ended up in clinch not producing any results. That was with the exception of Superfatties talent at kneeing Pancho not just once but twice in the groin (lucky to have remembered that box). Then on one occasion as Superboy went for another big kick into Pancho’s left thigh Pancho threw a right hook that connected nicely with Superboy’s flabby excuse for a face and sent him crashing. It was not hard enough however as the blob was standing again in no time. And once again Pancho failed to capitalise on his exploit. At one time during the round while he was once again wildly going about throwing uncontrolled punches Superflab managed to sneak a straight punch in that made Pancho’s head recoil fantastically. But Pancho’s animal instincts barely too heed of this little fact.
The round finally ended and Pancho was feeling the strain now. All that went through his head was that he was happy it wasn’t 5 rounds.
And then the final round. This round was an utter mystery for Pancho. Nothing much happened during this round except for Superguts slowly backing away and lifting his arms making funny movements as if he was a retarded bird. Pancho after having danced a bit because he thought he ought to do a bit for the show himself had two guesses as to what this strange behaviour could mean. Either he was telling Pancho that he had had enough and didn’t want to fight anymore or he was telling Pancho to come closer and finally attack. Pancho just wasn’t sure and being the very polite gentleman he was, he hesitated before attacking. As can be expected nothing much came of this except for confusion on Pancho’s side. The conclusion that Pancho came to was either one, that Supersausage was a lazy wimp who was too tired or two, he was a lazy wimp and a cheeky bastard as well who indicated that Pancho should come and try something while himself still backing away like a little crybaby. In any case nothing much happened anymore and when the bell rang Pancho couldn’t care less, he was happy it was over and he could relax and finally wait for his mind to take over from instinct again. Though he certainly did not understand why the judges decided that Superfatkid had won, at that moment, with all the adrenaline he could not care less and was all friendly.
Other people told Pancho afterwards that they thought had been his fight. And in Pancho’s opinion, though he had fought horribly badly he believed the same. He had scored two knockdowns and been kneed in the groin twice while all that Superboy had to show was quite a lot of connecting kicks (granted, they did score more points than punches) that however never really impared Pancho in the least.
In any case, the fight was over, Pancho went to the doctor to get his bleeding shin cleaned up and slept well that night. The reality of things would only kick in the next day however.

And then...

And finally, the day had come. The fateful day that Pancho had been preparing for, for what felt like eternity. The day of the fight. All his energies had been concentrated on this event, on making an imposing and successful spectacle of his victory over Superboy. Pancho felt fit. He knew he was fit. A lean mean fighting machine. His stamina was considerable and his technique had improved in leaps and bounds as one would expect of somebody with such dedication and limitless talent.
On Sunday he had still felt a nervous excitement in the pit of his stomach. It was his first fight and that in front of an interested crowd of people, with a name to defend and his honour at stake. But of course Pancho thought that that would be expected by what he felt were his endless masses of fans. Who wouldn’t think the first fight of a heroic character such as Pancho to be an immensely significant event in history of the world?!
This monday morning Pancho planned to take it easy. He had been allowed to skip school for the day. As if anything else would be acceptable to him, however he still had to go in for the formal bureaucracy of signing his name. So, he got up early (which was a useless futility to him) rode to school, signed his name, had breakfast and sat down at his computer to whittle away time. After lunch, he settled down for a restful nap and woke up in time to eat once again before he was due to join his student friend Porn, who was fighting too, for a warm up.
Pancho rode his bicycle to the training grounds, knowing that he would apply namman muay and not wanting to repeat the disaster of sweating before application.
And so Pancho, after having the oil massaged in by Porn and another helper, was quite relaxed. He felt the heat of the oil taking effect but was not in pain and got onto his warm up. This was followed by waiting for the hot water with herbal ingredients to be ready for a refreshing wash.
Sitting and standing there Pancho felt strangely at peace. The wind was blowing strongly and coolly from the north putting him in a mood similar to autumn back in Europe. It was a quiet feeling of accepting the slowing of nature to a virtual standstill before it rebounded with full life in the coming spring. And so Pancho felt as if he had come to the end of an excessively long road. He was quiet at peace with himself and no matter what happened not a bit of nervousness came forth. That famous calm before the storm.
After having washed and cleaned up the three fighters from Phunee (Pancho, Porn and a little kid who’s name he could not remember) went back to Porn’s farm hut for dinner. Pancho ate only a little as he had already had three meals that day and did not feel excessively hungry. Immediately after, they rode to the festival where the fights were taking place.
The festival itself was called Roy Kratong and is a lantern festival, where small floats with candles and incense are released onto the water for good luck. Pancho, Porn, the PE teacher called Math a very enjoyable and funny fellow, set out and joined the festivities.
On the way plenty of his students encountered Pancho and commented on the Thai boxing. Through this fight his fame in the area was reaching new proportions.
Finally they walked to the fenced off area of the fight. It was situated behind a wall of plastic tarp. Stepping into the enclosure Pancho was slightly surprised. There was a proper ring in the middle but no seats or any roof. It looked like actual fair ground boxing. Despite having expected something quite different Pancho really did not care. The surroundings were of little consequence, it was what happened in the ring that mattered.
The Phunee fighters and trainers settled down in a little hollow at the edge of the enclosure. Looking at the program, Pancho Wingchattour was listed as the 9th fight. It was already coming up to 8 o’clock and the events had not even started yet, so relaxed as Pancho was he lay down on their rice mat and tried to have a little nap. He was feeling just a tad tired.

The last days...

Training went on. The week felt absolutely endless to Pancho, only the not sufficient 9 hours of sleep broke the arduous routine of training and work.
The 4th day of the week saw Pancho extremely tired after his morning run. Fitness wise he had absolutely no issues as would be expected, however after having showered, eaten and come to school an intense tiredness overcame him that did not leave him till he got out and moving again.
His advisor as well as one of his friends, the PE teacher supplied Pancho with additional materials for training. Including more Namman Muay and various tapes to protect his injured foot (the blister was still healing).
So despite having been so tired through out the day training went better in the evening. In fact it went pleasingly well, Pancho noticing his considerable improvement. This was until Pancho as well as his coach both had a momentary laps. It can not really be explained, but the pad holder just didn’t move fast enough while as happens once in a while Pancho’s kick was not aimed correctly. This led to Pancho kicking the pad holder in the elbow instead of the pad. Pancho was immediately convinced, in that very moment that he would shortly be in severe pain. And what wonder. With his great wisdom he had predicted the future correctly. A sever pain shot through his foot where he had hit the elbow. It was actually so painful, that Pancho feared the foot to broken. Despite never having broken a bone in his body (demi gods’ bone simply didn’t break) Pancho was quite worried and imagined that it may prevent him from competing. This renewed shocking revelation of not being perfect clearly signaled the end for the day’s training. Despite the session having gone well this last injury put a significant damper on Pancho’s mood. At the rate he was picking up injuries he would be an invalid before the fight.
Just to reassure the most likely terrified reader at this point, Pancho had in fact not broken his foot (His body was after all made of demi god material).
The following day, a Friday training was restricted. Having been so thoroughly tired from running the day before, Pancho skipped the morning run in order to sleep longer. At training, his foot still feeling broken and taken on an interesting colour, kicks with his left leg were out of question. But despite only training under half steam the session was followed by something positive. Pancho was invited to his coach’s house/hut (Thai rural farmers have literally nothing more than wooden huts to live in) for dinner. The relaxing atmosphere and plentiful food after training were very welcome to Pancho who slept extremely well that night. Additionally the weekend had finally arrived so he would be free of the bothersome nuisance of work.
The next two days were thus somewhat relaxing when one ignored the need to overcome the mental agitation leading up to such a fight. As a first timer this was all new to Pancho and quite fascinating to him .However not that it really mattered to the probably most extraordinary fighter the world had ever seen (Different people have different concepts of what constitutes extraordinariness. Luckily for Pancho’s peace of mind the fact that he was a foreigner constituted enough extraordinariness for the Thai village folks.)
Pancho had been waiting for his mouth guard to arrive, being sent from back home (he did not want to have to buy a new one) However, as it had not arrived yet, despite having been in the mail for more than a week, he was worried it would not make it in time. So his wonderfully observant advisor went about the matter and bought a new one. This was a good decision on her part as the parcel with the mouthguard actually arrived the day after the fight. The only use Pancho got from it was an ironice smile.
On the weekend Pancho slept in and went for a morning run with his brother Pinball (after reaching school his brother however lay down and had a nap instead of running along side Pancho on his 14 laps)
Training in the evenings was quite relaxed, to start off with. But Pancho suddenly felt anger rise in him when people would criticise his technique. Luckily (Well not really, it was to be expected of him) he was wise enough to let out this anger while attacking the pads. However becoming angry was not normal for Pancho. He was somewhat surprised and wondered what could influence his usually very jolly nature in that way. Was it tiredness or some kind of heightened level of testosterone? Or maybe even the pressure to perform? He did not know, which was one of the few times in his life that Pancho was at a loss. But it mattered little as he could control it.
For the rest of the weekend Pancho just lay around and decided to watch movie after movie to distract him from the incessant reminders of the fight. The first three Rocky movies put him somewhat in the mindset for the fight while Platoon and Slumdog Millionaire offered a welcome distraction. His favourite pastime however was to nap.

Days 2 & 3

And so the second day of training came. Pancho, like a faultless master clockwork, woke at 5:30am and set out on his 9km jog. Although he was aware of his supreme physical condition Pancho was never the less surprised when after the 9km run he was not even slightly out of breath.
Despite this impressive fitness, teaching the kids at school felt like an unnecessary waste of energy at this point. In his limitless wisdom he made a note to remember this next time he thought of accepting the challenge of a fight. After all he had come to the Kingdom to spread the language of commerce and failed/doomed empires and not to become a professional fighter.
Evening training saw a marked improvement in general. His trainers and him were getting used to each other.
So the second day passed by smoothly and was a full success. A vast contrast to the following day.
Despite going to bed extremely early for normal standards, 8:30pm, Pancho did not succeed in starting his morning run. After the tough training plus teaching of the previous two days his body was in dire need of more sleep. Hardly even noticing he just switched off the alarm and fell asleep again immediately.
When he woke his intention was to make up for it at training in the evening, after a tiring day at work.
Generally fighters used an oil Namman Muay (boxing oil) To warm up before a fight and Pancho was to try it out before training. However as he had run to the facilities and already done his warm up he had sweated considerably already (luckily he had gotten used to the climatic conditions). Not having tried Namman Muay before he was not aware of the dangers. His training comrade informed him however that it should not be applied when sweating, so they waited duly till Pancho was dry again. Then two people started massaging the oil into his arms, followed by his torso and finally his legs. Initially Pancho did not have any problem, it was quite relaxing. After a few minutes however he noticed a marked change in his general well being. He now understood why this oil should not be applied after sweating. His whole body, having had the oil rubbed in, started burning as if it was one massive extremely bad sunburn. The pain was so bad that Pancho could not even stand still. He proceeded to walk around dramatically and shout at intervals. After a few minutes, the pain finally subsided and his heart rate seemed to slow to normal speed. Following that intense pain the bliss of feeling normal again made him extremely relaxed.
His skin had become bright red as all his blood seemed to have come to the surface. Pancho inquired somewhat unsure, whether the oil always had this effect but was reassured that it was not half as bad when done before any exercise. There was no doubt he could take the pain, but of course he was happy that it did not have to be so.
Reassured that he would not have to endure such pain again he could set out on his training. It did not start well. For some reason nothing seemed to be working quite right. So, once again Pancho returned home tired but not satisfied with the progress made. Due to his general perfection Pancho of course also had the expectation that anything he touched or committed to would prove to be perfect as well. Thus he was less than satisfied that things were not working out as planned.
At home Pancho was greated by his host brother Pinball. He mentioned that he had gone to watch Superboy train and proceeded to inform Pancho that his kick was strong and his clinch (When both fighters grab each other around the neck and try to bring in elbows to the head or knees to the body) was also extremely powerful.
Pancho was not delighted. Having deep knowledge of the workings of the human mind, he knew that after an unsatisfactory training session (something extremely seldom in Pancho’s experience) he needed a moral boost and not a warning telling him how strong the opponent was. He was in fact annoyed, a state of mind Pancho seldomly found himself in, due to his exquisitely balanced mental strength. But as he knew that he was in a less than positive mood due to being tired he convinced himself to forget his annoyance. Pinball was just trying to help. Maybe Pancho would after all just have to clobber this fellow called Superboy without the expected spectacle of his furious fists and crushing kicks.
That night Pancho was so tired and preoccupied with the fight in 5 days that he failed to sleep for a large portion of the night. Was Pancho maybe not so perfect after all, he asked himself? Could it actually be?

Training Day 1

Once returned from that camping trip where interestingly enough no actual camping happened, Pancho set out with determination to train for his first fight.
He had exactly one week to make physical and mental preparations. And whatever one may think, a first professional fight is a big step, even when one has the many gifts that Pancho possessed. Not having been in the ring before it was the mental preparation that was crucial. One could have the best technique and most outstanding physique and fitness (which he did have), but the mental constituent would be the most important, as to how he was going to use these perfected tools and how he was going to react when punched, kicked, elbowed or kneed.
So despite his superiority over Superboy, Pancho wisely guessed that the difference in experience could make the fight tougher for him than he anticipated initially. But not to worry, it would still end in a clear defeat for the deluded Thai who was willing to face him. Ensuring the most overbearing physical superiority one could achieve within a week, training meant about 9km runs in the mornings before a 9 hour work day and 2 to 3 hour training sessions in the evenings. These sessions went from shadow boxing, working the sandbag, to pad work (the coach held a set of pads which the trainee attacked) and extremely light sparring. Extremely light in this case in order to prevent injuries.
Despite these precautions Pancho could not escape blessures. I know this is virtually impossible for you, the reader, to imagine that Pancho Wodehouse, conqueror of the human condition, could get injured. But exceptional circumstances could result in normally impossible results. The exceptional circumstances in this case were the pressure of only a week of training an Pancho not being used to his trainers (Porn’s dad and a taller friend) while they were not adapted to his impeccable style. During pad work the tall lad especially would not be sure where to hold the pads or in what way. Thus on this first training day, a Monday, Pancho’s toes took some beating. The main issue was however that a blister he had gotten on the ball of his right foot had healed over the weekend, but the skin tore off during training, leaving Pancho with a hole in the foot that was probably not ideal.
Additonally, due to not being used to pad work any longer (he hadn’t trained like this in a while) or his partners, Pancho felt out of shape, only seldomly able to throw a kick or land a punch he was happy with in his very demanding opinion. Needless to say, by the end of the day Pancho was not entirely satisfied with the prgoress. His form was not fight worthy by far (It would not be a spectacle of grandeur) and his injuries could cause problems during training. During the fight itself such little matters as blisters or sprained toes did not matter as it would be relatively short and intense, no time to think about redamaging a blister.
But the injuries were a different matter for training. During this intense week they could worsen and eventually make a fight impossible (one could not fight effectively with an infected foot or a broken big toe). This less than optimal start was where the mental preparation came in. As a frequenter of deep thought and exploration of his own mind Pancho was in fact in an exceptionally good position to prepare for this as well. Turning such feelings of insufficiency into ambition and enthusiasm for the next session was thus fantastically easy for Pancho.
He would destroy Superboy in the ring and ensure that nothing was left of him to prove his previous existence. He returned home that evening, eager for food, a shower and bed but certainly no conversation about the upcoming fight. It was entirely sufficient to train such long hours. While not busy training Pancho wanted some distraction.
In the end, despite being extremely confident he was aware that he would have to improve considerably in order to display the magnificent show he intended to give the audience. Realisations such as these made Pancho’s level even more unachievable for the average human. Pancho loved a good challenge as it was hard enough for this towering example of human perfection to find any challenges in the first place.

Pancho Wingchattour

Since his return from the holidays on Elephant Island Pancho had displayed a strong commitment to maintaining a good level of fitness. The one and a half weeks of lazing around and doing nothing in the holidays but indulging in beer and other fantastically enjoyable little sins left Pancho feeling extremely out of shape and uncommonly unfit. This was not acceptable. As an individual striving for perfection of the human mind and shape he had to get to work again. So Pancho, rediscovering his iron self discipline set out on a strict daily training regime that would undoubtedly snuff out the spark of life in any but the hardest and meanest men on the planet. The effects of his renewed zeal for training showed quickly after a week already.
Pancho’s student coach in Thai boxing agreed to have sessions again. He would have a fight in a few weeks time and welcomed Pancho’s presence to practice some techniques on the most challenging opponent possible. For Pancho was significantly larger. Heavier and stronger than him. His only point to concede was naturally the technique which could not be easily beaten in a native who had been doing the sport from virtually from birth. His father had has well over 200 fights in fact and was still active once in a while.
At one point during training Porn, his coach actually remarked that Pancho looked a lot fitter than he had during training before the holidays. Already knowing that he his deadly training regime was taking effect Pancho simply cordially acknowledged this. He was shaping up to be in prime condition.
Despite already being in possession of such an uncompromisingly perfect physique before, renewed training under the serious auspices of an upcoming fight completed Pancho’s training methods and would allow him to reach his maximum potential. On a good day this would surely take him to the level of a demi-god. The new training was so tough that in fact he needed to ease into it slowly.
During this first session his teacher friend Thing, the physical education teacher told Pancho that the official thai boxing fight promoters were in fact interested in him taking part himself. Knowing his own imposing appearance he fully understood that he would attract a vast crowd. Who would not want to see this man in possession of a perfectly sculpted balance of body and mind to hand out a thrashing. It would be jolly good fun.
But Pancho was not quite certain that he wanted to fight somebody a lot lighter and smaller than him. Thais his size were rare. Where would the challenge be? And also he found little honour in being able to beat somebody without hope.
So Pancho reluctantly agreed after a lot of convincing, but he really did not know. In fact he was slightly tired from all this hard training and he was also not sure whether a mere week of serious training would suffice to allow him to offer the fantastic show the spectators would surely expect of him.
Over the following day, while teaching these innocent and unburdened students of Phunee these thoughts weighed down on heavily on Pancho’s broad shoulders. That day after careful consideration he decided to reject the offer. He did not want to have to disappoint all those hopeful spectators who would come in hope of witnessing a spark of the divine.
That evening however, at training Thing offered to take Pancho to meet this opponent who was crazy enough to want to face Pancho in the ring. Supposedly this guy was grossly overweight and not too much shorter than Pancho. Again being repeatedly pressured Pancho at least agreed that he would have a look out of simple politeness.
Following training and after a short motorcycle ride through several small villages they arrived at the training ground of some of the other contestants. The opponent was currently not present however. Pancho was under the impression that this scallywag had probably run and hidden out of sheer terror. He did not quite believe that this guy was off drinking with friends and not taking the possibility of a fight seriously. So just to see whether he was correct in his assumption Pancho waited till he had been found.
The guy eventually showed up. He was not quite as fat as described but to Pancho’s amazement he was not scared either. Thus Pancho found new respect for this fool who was about to face his demise. This guy was drinking instead of training and would also only have a week to prepare. And despite all that he was willing to face one of the most complete fighters on the face of the earth! These Thai’s were certainly a different type of people, not afraid of pain. By this time Pancho felt like he had to accept. There was no way he could let this insolence escape unscathed. This fighter by the name of Superboy was not quite as fat as previously described and he was pretty close to being Pancho’s height, which weighed him in at 80 kilos, significantly heavier than Pancho in his trained state. But even the 4 professional fights this man had behind him did not make Pancho feel like he should spare him. He agreed and his name was marked down as Pancho Wingchatour (The second name being the bus company of his host families, considering that they were pretty much his sponsors).
Pancho now had a serious mission. He would have to make the victory spectacular in order to make Wingchatour a famous name throughout the Kingdom. A defeat though highly unlikely in Pancho’s most humble opinion, was possible due to injury for instance. Such a case had to be averted under any circumstance as his name and his sponsor’s name would be tarnished for eternity.
But before serious trainingg could start Pancho was to go on that camping weekend in Khon Kaen with Charterous, his host father, hence the no drinks policy that was not quite held upright. Pancho was thoroughly confident and all that this would be a jolly good little fight.

Khon Kaen

Pancho had managed to survive a few weeks since having arrived back from his trip to Koh Chang (Elephant Island). His initial enthusiasm at being back had waned at a considerable rate. However the monotony of country life was often interrupted by various activities. Whether these were enjoyable or not was often a tricky question to ask.
In this case, after much anticipation Pancho was finally to experience his host father’s hobby: The off-road club of Thailand, which he had been a founder of some 20 odd years ago. Due to the remote location of their dwelling attending this event without a doubt required no uncertain amount of traveling.
Before the departure on an official holiday which also happened to be a friday, the school officials had to attend the ceremony of King Rama V’s birthday. For this all the district’s officers (teachers were official government officers) came together on the central field in front of the district head quarters. Each school or office placed a large picture of Rama V with adorning flowers in front of the building to commemorate the dead King. And in the end everybody stood around for a while listening to some surely important speeches (Pancho did not understand them) and generally looking forward to embarking on the long weekend.
Pancho’s hostfather’s (Charterous) initial intention was to leave town at about 9am. Right after the ceremony. Pancho as efficiently as his high percentage of European blood urged him to got up early and made all necessary preparations well in advance. When returning home after the ceremony however Pancho was utterly unsurprised that Charterous was nowhere to be found. The exceptional Thai talent of changing plans at the last minute had once again struck. Pancho went back to “work” at his computer. Work frequently consisting of reading the news and certain commentaries on political as well as economical matters. A true citizen of the world had the duty to stay informed and alert to all developments. How else could one otherwise possibly devise a plan to conquer the world (This was Pancho’s secret and humble plan). All in all however, when Pancho managed to be honest with himself, he had to admit that it was a fantastic and also enjoyable waste of time.
Eventually his father finally arrived back and announced their imminent departure for 12am. Luckily this was the case as Pancho had more or less devoured anything of interest available online).
Once on the road they picked up Charterous’s best friend, Sir Day. After a few hours drive and listening to some old American 60’s and 70’s songs, a welcome break from the constant Esarn whining, they made a stop at a military camping shop. While Charterous and Sir Day were busy browsing for various bits and pieces, such as camouflaged foldable tables or camouflaged foldable field beds or anything camouflaged really, Pancho found it more interesting to have a closer look at the signs and texts printed on the covers of some of the tents and so on. For instance, in between the excessively beautiful camouflage green on one item he found Nazi Germany symbols as well as short texts praising Hitler. Despite the unthinkable nature of this in many so called civilized areas of the world, for the deep well of wisdom and knowledge that Pancho was, there was no surprise. Many Asian countries were educated entirely differently. The people henceforth saw Hitler as a man who achieved great things for his country. Hitler was more a sign of strength than anything else. Pancho had had several conversations about this topic already, educating people that his achievements may have been great, but great in a thoroughly evil and horrible way. Despite such frequent statements of praise only possibly eliciting outrage from westerners Pancho felt more amused by such clear naivety. As a fine tasting connoisseur of all matters politically incorrect, statements such as “I love Hitler, I love Hitler” were the pinnacle of the achievable. Such a simple statement was considerably the strongest manifestation of differences in culture, shared knowledge and upbringing.
After having been on the road for a few more hours and a few shots of whiskey the three finally arrived in Khon Khaen. Here, parked in front of the hotel, Pancho found many fascinating vehicles, but was instantly lead up to the outdoor restaurant with swimming pool. The early evening centered around this location while large amounts of food and alcoholic beverage were consumed. Pancho refrained, for he had an important engagement within a few weeks that did not allow for consumption of such unwholesome evil. He ate the food and quenched his thirst with some of the good old H2O. Closer to midnight, after Pancho had once again been terrorized by mosquitoes, three very lightly clad females emerged from the hotel and started dancing around the pool. This was without question to the delight of all assembled males who started behaving like little boys. Pancho found this spectacle quite enjoyable himself until he was asked to dance with one of the girls. At this point he could not go any further and felt his honour being put in jeopardy.
He had come to the Kingdom on official visit and did not think it wise to have any incriminating photos taken of him. For Pancho realized slyly that that would surely happen if he bowed to their demands. In fact Pancho was acutely aware that such photos could be damaging for any later position he may hold, and he did not want any evidence for personal reasons, thus he refused.
In complete truth however, Pancho was never one to do things when commanded or asked to. Especially such things where the other men around evidently just did not have the nerve to do it themselves. If it did not come from his own initiative he would be as stubborn as a donkey.
At this point the author would like to interject that Pancho’s looks had in no way any resemblance to said animal.
In Thailand and many parts of Asia elders were at the top of the hierarchy. Generally, Pancho with a world of wisdom at his disposal thought this was a very good way of dealing with things. Older people generally held more experience and wisdom. This system however naturally only augmented the usual hierarchy levels at the work place and through out society in which obviously a mayor of a town stood above a farmer, no matter what the age difference.
This system generally worked well but as usual there were exceptions. Pancho was happy to defer authority to his elders at work at school. They had decades of experience in teaching Thai students, however were at times open for help from Pancho which he dispensed enthusiastically in ample amounts. But when it came to matters of leading a life or intellectual and philosophical issues Pancho identified himself undoubtedly far beyond the average. Despite the relatively short years of his life he had mastered the secrets of life as was to be expected of such a gifted individual. He thus found it inappropriate that the members of the off-road club had anything to say to him in terms of how to lead his life or behave when it came to the gentle sex. Pancho could enjoy this display in front of the pool, but he was certainly not one of the riffraff to join in the cajoling and yelping around. Making oneself look like a fool was a method Pancho only used when events required it. At this point there was no reason to do it.
Nevertheless Pancho had an enjoyable time sitting and watching. He had after all been locked up in a little village with nothing much to look at for male eyes. And a man in his prime certainly had natural needs.
Once the ladies left most of the off-road’s club’s members disappeared into the dark of the night. Only a Charterous, Sir Day, Pancho and a few others remained. Charterous was busy engaging a pretty hostess in conversation for quite a while in which he evidently used Pancho to show off (Pancho was not impressed. He was of the opinion that a lady was to be convinced through good looks, a good head and clever conversation, not through showing off who one knew or what on owned). Eventually the last few stragglers made their way to the cars. As usual for Thailand, not being informed of the further plan Pancho thought they were heading to the camping ground but in fact they all piled into a pick up truck and drove to another hotel with a club in the basement.
This was Pancho’s first visit to an officially Thai club. The group was seated as prominence right in front of the stage. Pancho was not so surprised to see the whole club sitting at tables. There was no dance floor. People in Asia just did not tend to dance for recreational purposes.
As soon as they had sat down and gotten their drinks (Pancho decided that if he was to be in a club for next few hours one drink would not do any harm) the show went on and about 10 Thai girls came on stage “dancing”. Pancho at first found this exquisitely amusing. Again they were very lightly dressed. But after about 5 minutes a tad of disinterest began settling in. It was a very strange scene, not unlike a strip club (the women did not take their scant clothing off however), with the exception of the absolute lack of talent and skill of these girls for dancing. Pancho’s companions further behaved the way he had come to expect and the night went on for a while in that way. Pancho could in the end not say that he did not enjoy himself, however he did find the whole situation quite strange and otherworldly.
The most enjoyable event of the whole night was without a doubt when a nearly 2 meter lady boy with huge breast implants and some kind of black marker pen all over his face decided to make a move. In a state of rising panic Pancho wildly made it clear that he was not interested in a conversation or for that matter even looking at the unsavoury appearance.
When they finally left the club in the early morning hours, some of the members conspicuously drunk, Pancho regretted only one thing. Despite his incredibly charming self he had missed the opportunity to ask for contact details of a not uninteresting lady. Impressively she spoke good English, which was understandably a prerequisite to hold a good conversation in Pancho’s case. Then again, he thought wisely, maybe it was for the best. The lighting could be misleading in any night club he attempted to convince himself.
Having squeezed back into the car the group then had a midnight snack consisting of a dish called PadThai. Pancho had had this many times before and was not a big fan of it as it tended to be quite sweet. However he had yet to experience its spicy variant. This one seemed especially so. Soon after eating a few mouthfuls the spiciness made itself felt in his stomach. Pancho had become accustomed to such food here, however he was not very proficient at eating it when it did not have a side dish such as rice to clean the palate. Accordingly he just about managed a quarter before his concern over the state of his stomach took overhand. Luckily his worries proved unfounded. His stomach had acquired a new strength. It could now withstand the assaults of even the spiciest Thai food. This meant that Pancho was, as incredible as it sounded even weeding out the few weaknesses that he had in the first place. Soon his only weakness may well be that he is so terrifyingly perfect.
Following a meager 4 hours of sleep, the morning contained a not uncertain amount of joy. After a short opening speech, the hundreds of cars and trucks of the off-road club event were to drive to various sightseeing spots throughout the day. Charterous had asked Pancho whether he wanted to join the ride on one of the accompanying motorcycles. Not sure whether to say yes, he decided to take the risk and have some fun for once. Life could be quite boring if one never tried anything new. Thus Pancho set out on the back of a chopper for a 40 kilometer ride down the highway. The motorcycles as nimble as they are were thus able to bypass all the traffic and Pancho got a prime view of the full strength that the off-road club had managed to assemble. It was a spectacular sight. Nearly as spectacular as it felt for Pancho to race down the highway at 150km/h without any protection between him and the hot and hard road screaming past below him. He had jolly good old blast.
But due to the lack of helmet after the first stint and the not too infrequently deadly nature of Thai traffic, his responsible side convinced him to return to Charterous’s car and take it easy for the rest of the day. During this time he actually became rather tired, especially including the beer that he had to drink out of courtesy.
Over lunch some of the ring leaders of this rugged band decided to show Pancho something they called Thai style sashimi. This was basically raw meat dipped not into a wasabi soy sauce consistent not of wasabi and soy sauce but of a mixture of onion, water, sugar and many many many scoops of dried chilies. Needless to say, despite Pancho being accustomed to spicy food by now, this sauce was spicier than his amazing propensity for creativity could imagine. Even only dipping the meat into the sauce shortly made Pancho’s mouth weep for 20 minutes. He had to repeat this several times for the camera. Eventually half dazed in pain when he was finally left to his own devices. Not having any weaknesses however, Pancho stood firm.
Later on that day the congregation finally got to the camping ground by a huge lake. The off-road club had also invited a BMX biking club that had built a large ramp and was busy showing off impressive tricks while everybody else was setting up camp. At this camping ground, that had a huge stage with ridiculously loud speakers, Pancho got a taste of his third meal that had the propensity to eat through steel. It was a version of the Somtam as one usually got it in Esarn. Shredded Pappaya in a just a tad spicy sauce. In this case the cooks had outdone themselves. Pancho took a mouthful of what looked like a little papaya in a sea of chili seeds. No problem! It actually tasted jolly good. 30 seconds later, without having eaten any more he was at a loss of words, inhaling and exhaling rapidly to do anything against that slightly uncomfortable feeling in his mouth.
That evening Pancho found himself to be short tempered. It must have been the lack of sleep... Charterous and Sir Day had gotten thoroughly drunk in the afternoon and were thus initially not the jolliest companions. Additionally they thought it proper to send Pancho back and forth to the car to take away this or bring back that. If Pancho had been Thai he would have accepted his role gratefully, after all that is what this society very respectful of their elders is based on. But Pancho was not Thai and due to his temper found it thoroughly annoying that these men could not go and take away or bring back these things themselves, such as shoes or camera chargers.
There was nothing to do be done however. They much less understood Pancho’s cultural background than he understood theirs. So he knuckled down and got on with it. In any case, it was not like he was missing out on anything.
One thing he was not looking forward to that night was the camping. He did not see how it would be comfortable to squeeze into a small tent with three people. He was thus relieved that around 9pm his host father announced to him that they would be leaving as both Sir Day and Charterous had work to attend to back home. Pancho slept virtually throughout the 5 hour car ride, including the midnight meal they had.. Finally in his own bed it was once again home sweet home for Pancho. As fun as these events were, nothing beat coming back to the ease of home.