Thai nicknames are awesome

Here's what I should have done: I should have told Lian I'd be in Bangkok on Wednesday night, not my actual arrival date of Monday. That way I'd have two full days to poke around Chinatown in search of craft jewels for my sister, and pop across the river to the big Buddhist temple, Wat Arun, for jade beads for my sister-in-law. In fact, those twin expeditions were my whole point of flying into Bangkok, not Chiang Mai, in the first place.

Ornate gates such as these

at Lian's sister's townhouse

 protect most Thai dwellings.

But I wasn't thinking, I divulged my real schedule. And so when I arrive close to midnight at my favorite funky little hotel, La Residence, Lian is already waiting. She is excited to let me know that our itinerary is all planned for us: in the morning we can move to her sister's house 30 minutes away in Bang Khae, where a room is prepared for us. And then that night the tribe wants to take me out to celebrate my belated birthday. "Stay there just one night. And after, we go to Kanchanaburi for holiday, yes?" Kanchanaburi is where the fake River Kwai is, four hours west of Bangkok headed up into the jungle. (More on that later.)

My Thai birthday dinner: Lian's
brother-in-law and sister dig in.

I put on my best "mai bpen rai" face and nod agreeably. But I quietly start planning a solo bead-and-jewel run, maybe in a few weeks after the long Loi Krathong holiday is over.

The next day our trip to Bang Khae turns out to be a bit of a family reunion: besides us, Lian's daughter-not-niece, Eve, has come north from Hua Hin. And her mother the notorious 89-year-old topless flasher is now living here.

That evening we call for two taxis to take the six of us (minus the mother) to the family's favorite seafood restaurant for a great feast. All through the evening Lian's brother-in-law is taking cell phone calls and scribbling furiously on crumpled sheets of paper he keeps in his shirt pocket. I ask Lian about it. "He bet football," she tells me. "Make good money many year." So it turns out Lian's sister is married to a bookie. We bond over many watered-down whiskey and sodas.

Really a very nice girl.

Joining us at dinner is the sister's fetching 18-year-old daughter, whose name I don't catch until late in the evening. I should explain, Thai people's given names are crazy-long, so most everyone goes by a short nickname. I lean in to ask Lian if I heard this girl's name correctly.

"Yes," she replies. "Name my niece Fook."

Lian explains that the name Fook (rhymes with kook) means approximately: "One Who Prevails Over Great Odds." After her first two children were born, Lian's sister had her tubes tied, but Fook managed to come along anyway. So the name really fits, at least in Thai. Nevertheless, I lament that her sweet young niece can never, ever go to college in an English- or German-speaking country. Lian offers: "Maybe she can change her name first?"