I had a neighbour in my first year here, a young guy who lived with his wife and new-born baby in the apartment next to mine. I can't remember his name, since time and Uncle Smirnoff have well and truly erased it, so let's call him Lek.
One evening I came home to an amazing spectacle.
The entire ground floor of the apartment block was empty. Normally people would stand around smoking and drinking and playing Thai chess and killing time until the soapies, but on this night nobody was there _ save for Lek.
He leaned against his motorcycle, screaming at the top of his lungs towards the apartment block. He had the strangest look on his face; of a man possessed, a face flattened of any emotion other than unbridled anger.
Was this a joke? No. But he was mighty mad at his wife.
What spilled from his mouth were the very worst expletives, referencing the aridness of his wife's private anatomy, so obscene it had clearly sent everybody scurrying. Including me.
The barrage stopped after a good 15 minutes, a long time when someone is cursing his wife so publicly and brutally. I have no idea how or why it stopped, but it did.
The next time I saw Lek and his wife was on the weekend at the adjacent market and everything was back to normal. Lek was carrying their six-month-old baby and his wife was carrying all manner of vegetables and we had a short, civil conversation.
I had to restrain myself from asking something like, "So everything's OK between the two of you now?" since the flash of rage was clearly gone. Life was back to normal.
I hadn't thought of Lek for ages (his baby must be 24 years old now), until Bodin Issara made the news this week.
You know Bodin. He's the world's No2 most viewed person on YouTube this past week, narrowly pipped at the post by the kid born in London last Monday.
Bodin was the badminton player who managed to get himself into the finals of the Canada Open on talent, only to get himself out of the competition thanks to what he himself described as bundarn tosa.
Before we examine that word I have to say this; as much as I am an ardent supporter of Thailand, its culture and its wonderful people, sometimes we really do stuff things up in the most spectacular way.
I mean, guys! Here we are at the Canada Open, a prestigious sporting event in the badminton world that's been held annually since 1957.
For the first time Thailand makes it to the final of the mens' doubles _ but not just one team, dear reader. Two Thai teams make it to the finals. That in itself should grant each player free lifetime membership to Hua Mak Stadium (I know, and second prize is two free lifetime memberships, but still, you get the idea.).
I confess I don't really follow world badminton, but I do have a Thai friend who is obsessed with the sport to the point of being boring, and according to him, for any country to have its two teams make it to the final is a spectacular achievement. What happened next has been more than adequately covered in the world media. Bodin was on one team, and Maneepong Jongjit on the other. These two were the team that made it to the quarter finals of the London Olympics last year, remember? No, I don't either, but my Thai friend claims it was big news at the time.
Something happened after the Olympics. Bodin and Maneepong had a falling out. In January, Bodin switched teams after a better financial offer, claiming it was because of his ailing mother, and expected Maneepong to follow suit. He didn't, and both resurfaced with new partners.
Bodin certainly looked like a man possessed (not unlike my neighbour Lek) when he beat the oojara out of Maneepong, chasing him around the court and throwing a chair and generally acting like the guys at the end of my soi when somebody sings "Take me home, kun-tee-load," one too many times at the karaoke bar.
This was despicable by world badminton standards. In the 56-year history of the Canada Open, only two black cards have ever been issued, suggesting badminton players are either: (a) well-behaved or ;(b) even duller than my friend who plays the sport. The umpire put an end to the match, disqualifying Bodin's team. For the first time, Thailand won the Canada Open, but who remembers that?
The video clip of Bodin going berserk has left the world scratching its head.
There is a well-circulated belief about Thais that they never get angry. Travel books speak of how well-behaved and polite Thais are, and how getting angry doesn't get you anywhere since the Thais themselves frown at such displays.
It is true that anger is frowned upon in Thai society, but then again, point me to a society where anger is actively encouraged. It is also true that Thais are well-mannered and polite, but what about Lek? What about Bodin? Are they exceptions?
Absolutely not. They are most definitely the norm.
When we farang find something offensive, we fly off the handle. We rant and rave and scream and shout. We stamp our feet, we raise our voices. Then it's over and done with. When a Thai finds something offensive, he bottles it up. He files the anger away. And it is there in his heart that it festers and grows. And when it explodes _ well, look out for the flying chairs on badminton courts.
If anger were an ATM machine, then we Westerners are forever withdrawing 500 and 1,000 baht notes. Thais don't visit it as often as we do, but when they do, it's to press that 10,000 baht button.
Why can't a Thai get angry all the time? It's not just the emphasis on being polite. Perhaps it's because there is a risk involved with getting angry.
Anger is akin to taking a clear stand on an issue, and this is something Thais are not keen to do for fear of being held accountable for that stand or, worse, stepping on somebody's toes on the social ladder.
Bodin put his despicable behaviour down to "bundarn tosa", that wonderful-sounding word that means a sudden surge of uncontrollable fury.
It probably means a fit of rage, but I always imagined a fit to be something very short. Over in a few seconds. Bodin's behaviour went well past a few seconds, so what do we call that if it isn't a fit? A "fat of rage", perhaps?
I just wish Bodin had sat down with Maneepong and sorted out their differences over a coffee or something stronger, as we humans with our powers of reason are capable of doing. In that way, he would not have become the celebrity-in-a-teacup he found himself to be last week, overshadowing some major triumphs, like the fact a 22-year-old Thai girl, Nicha-on Jindaporn, won the women's singles title at the same event. It is the first time a female Thai badminton clinched that honour.
Alas, thanks to Bodin's behaviour, her amazing feat that would otherwise be the source of much joy and jingoistic celebration has already, six days later, been swept aside and relegated, like an academic footnote, to the very last and insignificant paragraph of this column.
