The Pu-Mia
Andrew Matzner
Englishman W.A.R. Wood is a key source for information about transgenderism in early twentieth century northern Thailand. Wood first arrived in Bangkok in 1896 as a Student Interpreter for the British Consul. From the early 1900s up until his death in 1970, Wood spent a great deal of time working and living in northern Thailand, particularly in Chiang Mai, the city to which he retired.
Rhinocerous Blood and Other Stories From the North of Thailand is a collection of Wood's short stories, all of which originally appeared in various regional newspapers and magazines. This book was first published in 1968 by M.P.H. Publications, Singapore, under the title Tales From Thailand. The foreword in the 1991 edition (Trasvin Publications, Bangkok) is dated 1962, which at least indicates a date before which the stories were composed.
Wood was so struck by the transgendered behavior he observed in Chiang Mai that he wrote a short story about it called The Pu-Mia (p. 123-131). I present this story here, at length and quoting directly from Wood’s book, for two reasons. First, I would like a wider audience to have access to this hard-to-find story in its full form. Second, I think it's important for readers to experience the flavor of Wood's language first hand.
(My own paraphrasing is located between the brackets; otherwise the text is Wood’s.)
[The Pu-Mia begins by introducing Luang Maitri, an Assistant Judge from Bangkok who has just arrived to take up a new position in Chiang Mai. On his first day on the job, the court hears on the matter of a collision between a motor-bus and an ox cart.]
"Call the next witness," ordered the Chief Judge. "Nai Muang Chompu," cried the Court usher.
A smartly dressed young woman came forward and took her place in the witness box. She was wearing a pale blue costume, with high-heeled shoes. Her hair was fashionably "permed" and her complexion was too good to be true. Her manner, however, was modest and unaffected. She gave the impression of being a respectable girl of the working class, dressed up in her best cloths [sic] for the important task of giving evidence in Court.
"Surely there must be some mistake," said the Assistant Judge. "The court called for 'Nai Muang' (Mr. Muang) but this is a woman."
"No Your Honor," explained the usher. "There is no mistake. The witness is a pu-mia."
"A pu-mia!" Exclaimed Luang Maitri. "What on earth is that?"
"A pu-mia is a man who always dresses like a woman," was the reply.
"But it is contempt of Court for a witness to come to give evidence wearing fancy dress," objected the young Judge turning to his Chief. "Can we permit this sort of nonsense?"
I think we had better go ahead with the case," replied the older man. "There are many queer things in Chiang Mai. We will talk it over when the case is finished."
So Nai Muang gave his evidence. He gave it clearly and well but his manner throughout was not that of a young man, but of a well-behaved and modest young woman. Under cross-examination by the bus-owner's lawyer, he did not get rattled or upset, but stuck to his original statement. In short, his evidence was so convincing that when he had finished, the owner of the bus, after consulting his lawyer, asked the permission of the Court to compromise the case.
In giving permission for a comproise agreement to be made, the Chief Judge expressed his satisfaction at the manner in which Nai Muang had given his evidence.
On the way home after leaving the Court, the new Assistant Judge remarked: "Mr. or Miss Muang Chompu, or whatever he, or she, is called, was certainly a model witness. But I still consider, with all due respect to your opinion, that if he is a man, he ought to have been sent home to change his clothes before being allowed to testify in Court."
"I think you are wrong," replied the Chief. "Northern Siam is not like Bangkok. I have never seen a respectable young man going about the capital dressed like a woman. But in Northern Siam there are a few so-called pu-mia in every district. This seems to be accepted as a normal thing. They are men, like you or me, but they insist on dressing like women, and object, as a rule, to doing a man's work, though ready enough to do laundry work, sewing or weaving, or to take on any job usually assigned to females. They do no harm, so far as I know, and nobody bothers about them. People say: "He is a pu-mia," just as they might say of someone that stutters, or is short-sighted, and that is all there is to it. As for this particular pu-mia, I am rather surprised that you have not seen him before, as he is a near neighbor of yours. Of course you have been busy arranging your house since you arrived, but if you had been out into your garden, you would probably have seen Nai Muang sitting in the lower verandah of the little wooden house next door to you, weaving silk skirts on a hand-loom. His father is dead, and he lives there with his mother and grandmother. The latter is a very old woman, in her dotage, and has been bedridden for years. Nai Muang's mother runs a small shop nearby, and he himself does most of the house work, as well as looking after the old lady."
Luang Maitri listened to all this with great interest. He was a student of human nature, and felt a special interest in the Lao people and their customs. In fact, he had specially asked the Minister of Justice to transfer him to Chiang Mai for that very reason. He determined to make the acquaintance of Nai Muang.
[The judge slowly becomes more friendly with Nai Muang, and one day asks him:]
"When you were in Court the other day, you were summoned to give evidence under the name of Nai Muang Chompu, but you appear to be a girl. Excuse me for asking, but have you always dressed like that?"
"No Sir," was the reply. "When I was small I had to go to school, and I was always dressed like a boy. I would have liked to dress as a girl, but my father, who was then alive, would not allow me to do so. I left school when I was fifteen, and my father then had me ordained as a Buddhist novice in the Lion Temple. I was there for two years. While I was in the temple, my father died, and I resigned from the temple in order to come home and help my mother. After I came home, I took to dressing and doing my hair like a woman. My mother did not object, so now I always wear feminine attire. I am doing very well, making and selling silk skirts, and sometimes I take in laundry too. I do all the cooking, and also look after my grandmother, who lies helpless in a room upstairs, and never comes down. My mother is busy all day in her shop. So, you see, we manage very well, and are better off than we should be if I tried to do a man's work, as I am not well-educated enough to get a highly paid job. Two years have passed in this way. I am now nineteen, and have come to look upon myself as a woman: moreover, all our neighbors accept me as such. I am very happy now that I have become a woman. I do useful work and everybody is very kind to me. Moreover, I have much more liberty than is enjoyed by real girls whose parents are always fussing about them if they go out alone. You see, I am a woman with all the freedom of a man."
All this was said in a very simple, unaffected manner, which greatly impressed Luang Maitri. He had looked upon Nai Muang as a "freak", but after hearing him speak, he completely changed his opinion. Nai Muang now seemed to him to be merely a person whose manner of life was somewhat exceptional.
[The two neighbors eventually became good friends, with Luang Maitri teaching Nai Muang about history and "world affairs," while Muang taught the judge Lao and explained to him about various northern customs. Muang also took to helping Maitri with his laundry and cooking. The judge had a fox terrier named Tip, to which Muang also became very attached. One day a mad, rabid dog bounded into Luang Maitri's compound and attacked Tip. Having heard the commotion, Muang raced to where the two dogs were fighting, and - without any worry regarding his own health should he be bitten by the rabid dog - grabbed the mad dog by its neck and threw it down an unused well. Tip was fine, but Muang received a large bite on one of his arms. Luang Maitri, amazed at Muang's courage, and worried about his bite, insisted that Muang take the next train to Bangkok. There he could arrange to get anti-rabies treatment at the newly opened Pasteur Institute, which Luang Maitri's brother, who was a government doctor, could arrange. However, Luang Maitri insisted that Muang would have spend the month necessary for treatment in the capital dressed as a man.]
So a suitcase was hurriedly packed with a few clothes and Muang, rigged out in one of Luang Maitri's suits, and looking very smart and alert as a young man, especially after his hair had been trimmed and the lipstick effect toned down, set out for the railway station.
"After all," said he, "I have only been a woman for two and a half years, and I can very well become a man again, if I choose to do so. No doubt half the girls in Bangkok will fall in love with me."
In this spirit he boarded the train, not at all nervous of the long journey to new and strange surroundings, nor of the unknown medical treatment awaiting him.
[During the month that Muang is in Bangkok Maitri also has the chance to visit the capital; once there he asks his brother about Muang.]
"I liked him immensely," said the doctor, "and so did the people at the Pasteur Institute. He is, of course, a very good-looking and well-set-up young fellow. Moreover, he is intelligent and has excellent manners. As you know I am keen on boxing, and when his treatment was finished, I gave him several boxing lessons. He showed great promise, and has plenty of pluck. I observed nothing unusual about him, except that he used a good deal of perfume, and was rather fond of powdering his face. I was so pleased with him that I offered him a job down here as receptionist, but he told me he must return to Chiang Mai, as he had an aged relative to look after."
So Muang went back to Chiang Mai, and suffered no ill effects from that mad dog's bite. The morning after his return, he became a girl once more, and was to be seen, as before, seated at his loom, weaving a silk skirt.
"I am a man down South, but a woman up North," said he.
[Life continued as normal for several months.]
Then a change came over Muang's life. His old grandmother died, and he had more time to himself. He started to go about much more than before, and made a number of new friends. A cousin of his, a pretty girl from Lampang, came to stay with him and his mother, and often took his place at the loom.
[At the"Ok Wasa" festival at the end of the Buddhist Lent season which occured the year before, Muang had given Luang Maitri an embroidered silk skirt as a present. This year, however, Muang brought him a teak chair. It turns out that Muang has made the chair himself. He tells Maitri that he has been helping Nai Wong, the carpenter, and learning the trade from him. Accordingly, he has been spending less and less time weaving, which his cousin has now largely taken over.]
"My cousin has taken charge of all that work, and does it just as well as I can, better maybe. She is a very nice, hardworking girl, but she gets hold of foolish ideas at times. She has actually taken to locking her bedroom door at night, because she says her mother told her she should always do so when in a house with a young man! Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous in all your life?"
Luang Maitri looked well at Muang, and began to realize that a subtle change had begun to come over him. After all, this was the same young fellow who had boldly tackled a made dog, and who had been readily accepted as a man in Bangkok - a man who showed promise as an amateur boxer. Was it really so very ridiculous for his pretty cousin to lock the door of her bedroom? When all was said and done, the Judge reflected, a skirt and a permanent wave cannot turn a man into a woman.
However, he let the matter pass without comment.
[Soon afterward, Luang Maitri was called down to Bangkok on special duty, and does not return to Chiang Mai for over two months. Upon his return, the first person he sees on the railway platform is Muang - dressed as a man. Seeing Maitri's surprise, Muang states,]
"Do not be surprised, Sir, to see me dressed as a man. I have given up being a pu-mia. Nai Wong the carpenter has taken me into partnership, and we are doing very well. He says I have doubled his business."
"My dear Muang," exclaimed Luang Maitri, "I am truly delighted to heart this. Man or woman, you will always be my good friend. With you turning out furniture and your cousin weaving skirts, you will soon be rich people. Or has she perhaps gone back to Lampang?"
"No, Sir," replied Muang. "She has not gone back, and she has no intention of going. She is going to marry me, and we were thinking of asking to borrow your care tomorrow, to drive to the District Office to register our marriage."
Luang Maitri was overjoyed. "This is great news!" he exclaimed. "Things could not possibly have turned out better. Next thing, you will be having a family."
"I am pretty sure we shall, Sir," answered Muang. "In fact, that is why we are in rather a hurry to get married. We would have done so before this, only we were very anxious to have you as one of our witnesses. You see, about the time when you left for Bangkok, my cousin lost the key of her bedroom!"