There are a lot of
confusing people in the world. Glaswegians (hailing from
Glasgow, in Scotland) are probably near the top of that
list. They possess the unique ability to utter several
sentences within a few nanoseconds. The problem is that
unless you grew up on the same street as they did, you
haven’t the faintest idea what they’re talking about.
Cockneys, from London, even create confusion deliberately,
for no other reason than to elicit the reaction “What the
heck are you talking about?” from those not of their ilk
around them. They choose to invent clauses to describe the
most abstract of things. Apples and pears = stairs, whistle
and flute = suit, Alan Whickers = knickers, Barnet fair =
hair, butcher’s hook = look … and the list goes on.
What’s the point? I’ll just never get it. They are from the
south of England, I suppose, so much of what goes on in the
nether regions of the country is largely confusing to folk
from the north. We tend to leave them to it, mostly. It’s
for the best.
There are people in Thailand who are perplexing, too.
Policemen at roundabouts probably claim the top prize. They
have an amazing knack of causing complete chaos by waving
cars through and stopping others, seemingly at random and
generally slowing things down to a snail’s pace crawl. What
is frustrating is that they make an appearance only at peak
traffic times, when they can cause maximum disruption.
Another source of confusion on the island is katoeys. For
readers that have just stepped off the plane, a katoey is
the Thai word for a gentleman that rather thinks that he’s
of the female persuasion, and would like the rest of the
world to think so, too. Some katoeys are stunning, and
that’s the confusing part – there are plenty of them that
even the most red-blooded males of would describe as
gorgeous. Scary.
Things are certainly not always what they seem. Paul Hogan
got it right, in that daft film from the eighties, Crocodile
Dundee. Having made the mistake once of trying it on with
one of these “gorgeous” blokes, through no fault of his own,
he took matters into his own hands next time he was in
doubt. He made sure in the most obvious way possible, with a
quick grab of the key area.
Once the woman’s gender had been definitively established,
he winked knowingly at the hapless lady. “Just checking,” he
said apologetically. I’m certainly not advocating that
method next time you’re approached in Patong, as it may well
not be appreciated, but it’s certainly worth a thought in an
emergency.
There are a couple of things that usually give the game
away. The first is the Adam’s apple that’s very hard to
hide. The second is those furry chins, a bit like your Great
Aunt Daphne. Particularly unattractive.
In the plant world, the closest thing we’ve probably got to
a katoey plant is a member of the ginger family – the costa
speciosus variegatus. It’s a ridiculously long and
complicated name for a plant that is otherwise known as the
variegated crepe ginger, or huang mai-naa in Thai.
The French got at least something right when they assigned
genders to everything. A palm tree is masculine and a rose
is feminine, but the variegated crepe ginger hasn’t chosen
which side of the fence it’s on, and so it’s all down to its
furry feel. It kind of needs a shave, but hasn’t quite
decided whether it wants to or not.
It’s a curious plant. From a distance, it looks much like
any other plant with variegated leaves (having more than one
color). Up close, it’s a different story. Both sides of the
soft, 10-centimeter-long leaves are covered in a layer of
fine fur.
The leaves of this tropical evergreen appear on stems that
are sometimes maroon-red, emerging directly from the ground.
Each leaf has a narrow white strip along each edge with
occasional light streaks through the blade of the leaf. They
kind of spiral around the stem, forming arching clumps that
can form some fairly elaborate and bizarre shapes.
They can grow to over a couple of meters tall, and the
tallest stems can occasionally fall over and collapse on the
ground. This is another katoey aspect of the plant. It
pretty much does what it wants, and does its best not to
conform to the usual rules of the plant world, and really
doesn’t care what the rest of that world thinks.
Most members of the fauna side of the evolutionary scale
take the easy, predictable route and reach skyward the most
direct route possible. If there’s more light in one
direction, they turn that way in order to follow it.
Not the variegated crepe ginger. Sometimes it will form
weird spiral shapes, almost as if it wants to take its time
getting there. Often it will change direction as if purely
on a whim. It has to be one of the most non-conformist
plants around.
Attractive, white, five-centimeter-diameter flowers are
produced when it feels like it, appearing on the tips of
branches. The leaves are spectacular; the flowers are a
bonus.
For the best results, this plant should get some hours of
direct sunlight daily, but not be out there all day, baking.
This plant has feelings, after all. But if you put it in
fertile, organic, moist but well-drained soil, it will be
particularly content. It does enjoy its water.
All members of the crepe ginger family grow from thick,
fleshy roots – rhizomes, similar in appearance to the ginger
root that you would buy at the local market. Most people
take the easy way out and buy them as a pre-potted plant,
but even if you start out with bare rhizomes, they are still
easy to grow.
Plant the rhizome two or three centimeters below the surface
in a sandy loam or clay soil that has been improved by some
of that coconut husk-based compost you see in those white
sacks at every garden center. A single rhizome will produce
new shoots and increase to a fairly big clump quite quickly.
A plant with feelings? Not quite sure which direction to
turn? Fur on the oddest parts of its anatomy? No wonder it’s
confused. Though I’d bet it would be an improvement to have
it directing traffic at Chalong Circle.