A caretaker in front of a memorial of the Thai’s beloved King, Bhumibol Adulyadej, at Wat Phra Singh.
Drops by to sing a song to me in the early morning. Sometimes with his mate, sometimes not.
Never takes the bread left out on the balcony.
And on this morning he brought his own.
The farmer is angry.
It’s his rice they are eating, but they are not his bovine. They belong over the ditch.
It’s not the first time it has happened, the farmer says.
So he sends them on their way and across the irrigation canal with a yell and a stick.
It is here that they belong. But the owner, another rice farmer, knows his cattle stray, but he does nothing. He prefers someone else feeds them for free…
I had a pork-filled one.
Cost? About 50 cents…