6 He was pushing me into conversation

"You seem to disagree with me that certain traits are inherent in people from specific regions?" He said.

I looked at him, blinking twice. He was perceptive. By just three words I uttered he had gathered that I disagreed with him.

He was pushing me into conversation which was only bound to agitate him more if I were to speak my mind, for on this matter, my opinions were well-defined. He was a man who was full of himself and who disregarded whether or not his companion wished to speak.

"I'll use myself as an example. I am half-German and half-Dutch. I inherited the worst of traits from both cultures." He said, then turning to me briefly to continue.

"Mind you, not the good ones, but I'm sure you know that already, don't you, Lila?" He asked.

I nodded. Seeing me nod, he sighed before he carried on.

"From the German side, I am stubborn and terribly hard to please. From the Dutch, I am direct to the point of bluntness and I complain all the time. I am hot-tempered. I am calculating. That's good for business though." He said, making his point clear to me.

He eyed me, as if nudging me to speak.

"I guess if you view it that way, then it goes without saying that Thais generally avoid confrontations. They also conform with and tolerate others well. And this proves your theory right because I am compliant. I want to try to avoid disagreements with you, right now if I can." I said.

"But you disagree somewhat? Because that's not how you would define yourself, is it?" He asked.

"I was born Thai but I have lived in different countries in Asia and around here. I learn from new environments. I lose old cultural upbringings which I do not relate to anymore." I said.

"I see. Those years must have been an eye-opening experience but challenging at the same time." He said.

I nodded. I did not wish to elaborate more. The years in Asia were basically the darkest years of my life, minus my early childhood in the farming community.

He looked as if he expected me to say more. So I made a narration up. Over the years, telling white lies got easier and easier. Plus, all my jobs involved lies.

"I enjoyed myself immensely discovering new cultures and languages. I met new people, made friends and simply had the time of my life. The more I saw, the more I wanted to travel." I said.

I smiled from ear to ear.

"Lila, that's a bit too enthusiastic for you. Are you not the liar? You seek to placate me. You seek to humour me and nothing else." He said.

His statement hit me hard. I was just trying to say what I thought he wanted to hear but I was unearthed as a liar.

I pleased everyone, even outside the call girl job. It was not even personal.

Who would have wanted to hear my real life story? The story of a child, out of poverty, was flung into prostitution by her own mother? Abused and raped and finally years later there was some salvation but it came at a cost.

There was always a contradiction in what I did and who I felt I really was. I felt throngs of emotions like rain which would not stop. I rebelled inwards but the reasons why I did not comprehend. I could not catch them; could not grasp them. I was lost in thoughts not comprehended. That's why I reverted to my secret shields. They double up as coping mechanisms. I needed scents. I needed the musky saturation. The scent before rain.