Rose apple
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Perfectly suited to
life in Phuket: the rose apple – chomphuu in Thai.
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A Rose Apple by any other
name
Things are different now. Not the most incisive
observation, you may say, but back in the days of my
youth, our lives were a lot more innocent.
We didn’t have any drugs or other such illegalities at
my school, for example. Unless tobacco counts, of course
– sneaking out of the school grounds for a sly fag was
about as errant as our behavior got.
Before any transatlantic types start to wonder why I
would have thought that having a sly fag between classes
was a good idea, it has a lot more to do with the
inhalation of tobacco smoke than something significantly
more unsavory.
We got into huge trouble if a teacher heard us swearing,
even from a distance. Thinking about it now, they
probably just guessed. And got it right. Today, it’s
nothing for a teacher to be told to “**** off” to his
face; there’s nothing he can do, as the child is simply
“expressing himself”. A child does, of course, have the
absolute right to express his individuality in today’s
world; perish the thought that some may consider his
attitude to be rude.
The hands of the police are equally tied. Any
misdemeanors by the youth of the more “developed”
nations are dealt with nowadays by do-gooder counselors
who talk through the transgressors’ problems in an
effort to modify future inappropriate behavior. What
utter twaddle.
Not that many years ago, if the police caught you
red-handed doing something you really shouldn’t have
been doing, then you knew you were in trouble, mainly
due to the fact that the policeman gave you a severe
clip around the ear, leaving you in no doubt that your
behavior was “inappropriate”. It didn’t need talking
through or analyzing; your physical pain and ringing
ears did the job very well. Behavior modified on the
spot.
Next was the long walk home, and the handover to your
father. He’s not a happy man at this stage – after all
there’s a policeman at the door with an errant son in
tow. You’re now officially in trouble again, and
punishment number two ensues – more clips around the
ear. This time it’s doubled – one clip for the daft
behavior and another for getting caught. It was a system
that worked.
I have a romantic fondness for apple trees. We didn’t
have much in the way of sweets; my treat was my
grandmother giving me a penny all to myself to spend on
sweets. So we had to improvise. Apple trees were always
a favorite target, but there was a problem – the best
trees were always in somebody else’s garden.
This was where “scrumping” came in. It was usually a
two-lad affair. One would keep watch for that grumpy old
Mr Jones bloke, while the other would hop over the
fence, climb the tree and grab all the Granny Smiths
they could carry. This was the stage at which Mr Jones
would inevitably appear out of nowhere, waving his stick
and screaming at the top of his lungs about “you bloody
kids”, as we scampered down the back lane – we knew that
if he ever caught us that stick would be put to
effective use. And we knew we would have deserved it.
We don’t have much in the way of apple trees in the
traditional sense here in Thailand. They do grow a few
varieties further north where it’s a little cooler, but
in our neck of the woods we have to make do with what
are known in these parts as water apples or rose apples.
Thais know it as chomphuu-saaraek. The easiest way I
know to remember this particular Thai name is to say it
exactly as it sounds: “shampoo”. Scientific types refer
to it as the eugenia aquea.
They have very little to do with their more traditional
cousins, the ones more associated with the temptation of
Adam and Eve or inflicting cranial damage on dead
physicists with big hair. I digress. The rose apple is,
not to put too fine a point on it, a bit boring. It
tastes of exactly what it most consists of – water.
It looks a bit like a kind of small, waxy pear, between
five and eight cm long. It is created by an evergreen
tree which will grow up to about eight meters tall. More
often the trees have a short, crooked trunk branching
close to the ground, and a non-symmetrical, open crown.
The leathery, light-green, short-pointed leaves are
about 20 centimeters long, and almost hide the
faintly-fragrant flowers, which appear in clusters of
three to seven. Thin-skinned and shining, the fruit
varies from white to various shades of red. There may be
a few small seeds in the fruit, but generally they’re
seedless. At least you’re not likely to be spitting out
seeds every few seconds.
The trees are happiest in “moist tropical lowlands” –
Phuket fits the bill perfectly. In theory, it grows best
in any area with a fairly long dry season. It’s not
particularly drought-resistant though, and requires a
reliable water supply. The best way to cheat this is to
plant them along the sides of streams or ponds, spaced
five to seven meters apart.
The species presumably originated in Southeast Asia, but
nowadays it appears from India through southeast Asia to
the Pacific islands. It even features in Fijian
mythology.
There are definite flowering seasons for the water
apple; often two, sometimes three in a year, but the
timing varies from year to year. They commonly flower
early or late in the dry season, and the fruit ripens 30
to 40 days after the flowers first make an appearance.
Propagation is usually by seeds, but if you’re an
adventurous type, or even a gardener who, unlike myself,
actually knows what he’s doing, the water can be
air-layered or even grafted onto some of its close
relatives, such as the java apple.
I’m reliably informed that it even has medicinal uses
for a number of maladies – apparently a decoction of the
astringent bark is a local application on certain fungal
complaints. Unfortunately I haven’t the faintest idea
what that actually means.
The water apple, or rose apple, or shampoo, whatever you
want to call it, is perfectly suited to life in Phuket.
The trees do a great job of filling large chunks of your
garden, but I just wish their fruit tasted a little more
interesting. Had these things existed in my Yorkshire
youth, I doubt we’d have bothered scrumping them. Not
really worth a clip round the ear from the local bobby
for this one.
Time for a sly smoke.