Mom makes me get out of the taxi as correctly as she made me get in. She had used the last few minutes of the ride to drill into my head exactly how I was to do that. I pay close attention to what she told me and she actually compliments me as I get out. For some reason, as we go up the walk to the house, I realize that my shoes sound a little like Mom’s; not quite the sharp clicking of her heels, but a loud tapping none-the-less. I wonder a little at the sound of my shoes as we go in; even stranger is the bounce of the ‘boobies’ in my bra…

Mom closes the door and takes me straight to my room with all of my new stuff. She says, “Well, now that you are a girl, you need to learn to take care of your things like one.” She has me pack away my old ‘boy’ clothes and put away my new ones. She shows me how to neatly fold my panties and bras and put them away in the drawers, along with my socks. Then she shows me how to neatly hang up my dresses in the closet. Finally, she helps me neatly put my makeup and toiletries in my bathroom.

When she is satisfied that everything is neatly put away, she takes me into the kitchen and says, “Well, …Kanya… , let’s get lunch ready, then we have a bit more shopping to do. We need to get some things I know more about. Those couple of dresses won’t last you through a week and you need more shoes and something to sleep in and… Oh my goodness, listen to me ramble–I don’t think I am quite ready for a daughter…”

After we make some sandwiches, eat them, and clean up, we go back out to do more shopping. There is a shopping mall only a couple of bus stops from our house and it does not take long for us to get there; I only get my thighs pinched twice. We enter the mall looking like any other Mom holding her daughter’s hand to anyone that might be paying attention to us.

We go into a bunch of shops and Mom picks out more clothes for me; a mix of dresses, jeans and tops, and more shoes–more nice ‘ballet flats’ in several colors and bright pink sneakers. Then she picks up some girl’s nighties for me in our last clothing store, she pays, and we walk back into the mall.

We just walk around for a while carrying all of the bags of my new stuff. Then, suddenly on some whim, she pulls me into one of those stores that has all kinds of earrings on stands everywhere. She takes me to a chair that has a teddy bear in it and tells me to sit down and hug the bear. After she makes sure that my legs are tightly closed on the stool, she tells the shop girl, “Hi, this is Kanya, my daughter, and she wants to get her ears pierced today. She is almost twelve and I think it is a great early birthday present.” I just blink as she says that. I had not said anything about getting my ears pierced. The girl shows me all of the different types of ‘starter’ earrings and asks me which ones I want. I just sort of stare at them, confused.

Mom comes over and takes my hand, as she says, “I got my first earrings when I was twelve; this is a special moment for a girl and her Mom, Kanya. I think the pink, sparkly ones would be really pretty, don’t you? They match your lip gloss and your nail polish.” I just numbly nod as the girl pulls my hair back into a ponytail and makes some dots on my ears with a marker. Mom nods her in approval at the placement and I get really nervous as the girl unwraps the gun-looking thing and holds it up to my left ear.

I hear a sharp ‘pop’ and then another around my right ear. I wonder that I don’t feel anything as I hear the pops. I feel her wiping my ears with a cotton ball and a slight sting from the antiseptic it is soaked in. Then I feel a slight pinch as she puts the backs on the earrings. I realize it is over with when she turns the chair around to the mirror and I see the pink studs in my ears sparkling in the bright light.

An hour later, we are back home and back in the kitchen. Mom has me put on a pair of her fuzzy slippers, which are way too big, and an apron to start cooking supper. She has me stir the sauce for our noodles and says, “Be careful not to get any of that on your dress, Hon, the tomato sauce will stain it. We will let it simmer in just a minute and get you into something else. You are doing really well, though. I am really looking forward to having you help with the chores around the house, from now on.”

After a few minutes, Mom has me put the sauce on ‘low’ and takes me back to my room, where I once again put away my newest clothes. After everything is neat, Mom hands me a girly, pink cotton nightie and says, “Here, just put this on. I will put on my nightie, as well, and we will just chill the rest of the evening.” She shows me how to unzip my dress and then has me zip and unzip it several times to get the hang of doing it myself. Then she shows me how to unclasp the bra from behind and then reclasps it several times until I can undo it by myself. Mom leaves me alone and I put away the dress, bra, and silicone breast forms, as Mom calls them, and then put on the nightie.

I go into my bathroom to pee and hike up the nightie. Mom comes in to say something right at that moment and slaps my bottom when she sees me. She says, “Girls do not stand to tinkle. Sit down and go like you are supposed to. I don’t want to see or hear of you standing at a toilet again.” I blush and quickly sit down. She makes me wipe when I am done and I feel really stupid.

By the time we get back to the kitchen, the sauce is almost ready and Mom has me put on a pot of water to boil for the noodles. She shows me how to add salt and olive oil to the water once it boils and then the noodles. A few minutes later I drain the noodles in a colander and we sit at the table, which I set with the plates and silverware, and eat our supper.

After we eat, Mom washes the dishes and has me dry and put them away. Then she takes me into the living room before she goes and grabs the bottle of pink nail polish that Malee had used on my fingernails from my bathroom. She comes back and smiles as she says, “Those toes look a little naked. I think we should do a mother-daughter pedicure session. What do you think, will this color look OK on my old toes?” I can tell she is teasing me, but I honestly have no idea how to respond. I decide to be semi-honest and say, “Well, it is pretty girly--maybe you are too old for it?” I grin to hide my uncertainty, but it seems to be the right response, because she just tickles my sides and starts filing my toenails.

Mom shows me how to paint each nail with three strokes of the brush; one on each outside edge the nail and then one down the middle. She puts on two coats of the pink and then a coat of clear, and soon enough my toenails are the same shiny pink as my fingers. Mom goes to her bathroom to get the bright red that matches her fingernails and hands the bottle to me. Thirty minutes and lots of nail polish remover and cotton swabs later (to get all the red off of her skin), I have finally painted her toenails to her satisfaction. She just grins and says, “Well, practice will make perfect, I guess.”

We watch a DVD of some old girly movie that Mom likes but says that she never could watch with me before. I don’t know why, but I cry at all the same spots Mom does… After it is over, I yawn and Mom takes me to my bathroom where she shows me how to remove my makeup with the special wipes, wash and scrub my face with the ‘cleansing scrub’, and moisturize it. After she kisses me goodnight and closes my door, I take out the tube of cream and apply a small amount to each sore boob, like Malee had instructed. It does help sooth the soreness and I quickly fall asleep.

Mom gets me up at seven. I groan at her; it is Saturday and I want to sleep in, but she just says, “Get up lazy bones. Girls have to get up earlier to get ready for the day. And we need to clean today. You can take a shower later, you will just get dirty again if you take one now–but you need to get dressed and put on your makeup.” She pulls out a pair of my new jeans and a pale yellow t-shirt that has puffy short sleeves. She lays them on my bed and leaves me alone to get dressed.

I apply some of the cream to my boobs; I am not sure, but it feels like my nipples are bigger than normal as I rub them. I look in the mirror and laugh at my own stupid imagination while I try and put on the bra. It takes me a couple of minutes, but I finally get it on and the jiggly ‘breast forms’ inserted. I put on the t-shirt and the girly jeans; you know the ones that are really tight on your legs, with sparkly gems all over the back pockets, and that don’t go all the way down to your ankle. I notice that both the jeans and the t-shirt are a lot softer than my normal clothes; I kind of like the feel.

After slipping my naked feet into a pair of the ballet flats, like I had seen a lot of girls do, I go to my bathroom to find Mom. She is ready to help me with the makeup and tells me that I will have to practice on my own after I take my shower later. She tells me, “You will have to do your own makeup on Monday before school. I will check it, but it is your job to do your own makeup.”

I set the table for breakfast and quickly eat a bowl of cereal. After I wash the dishes, I nervously look at the clock and beg Mom to let me go outside for just a few minutes. It is time for me to meet A-Wut and I am afraid he will do something drastic if I don’t show. Mom says that I can have ten minutes, but can’t understand why I need to go outside so urgently. As a diversion, I tell her if she finally got me a phone that works here that I could text my friends rather than having to go meet them all the time. She rolls her eyes and I quickly run outside before she changes her mind.

A-Wut is waiting for me and laughs out loud when he sees me. Between laughs, he says, “Ha! I knowed you was kathoey! You make sure and keep doing what I say.” He gives me my pills, which I quickly swallow not even noticing the bitter taste anymore, and I run back inside before Mom comes looking for me.

The rest of the day consists of me helping Mom clean the house, vacuuming, dusting, washing windows. After we make lunch, and clean up the mess afterwards, Mom sends me to take a shower and tells me to use the special moisturizing body wash we had bought yesterday. She also tells me to use the body lotion all over my body after I get out and to follow that with a light dusting of the body powder. I follow her instructions and smell all flowery when I come out. I put on the pink dress I had briefly worn yesterday and Mom shows me how to sort and start the laundry and then tells me to go do my makeup.

I spend an hour studiously working on my face and look something like a cross between a raccoon and a clown when I finish. Mom makes me wipe it all off and start over. I do a decent job on my third try. At that point, she relents and says that I can go outside for an hour, but that I have to come in and help with supper then.

I find Dao waiting outside. She could not have known if or when I was coming out, so I figure she has been there quite some time. She pales when she sees me. She holds my hand in hers and looks at me as she says, “It true. A-Wut no lie. You kathoey because me.” She starts crying and I try to calm her down. I ask her why she is crying, if she didn't like me being a kathoey. She shakes her head and says, “It not that. I glad you like be girl. But A-Wut say he make you be and that he now can say that you help me steal pills. If he say anything to he Dad, we both go to prison.” I stare really hard at her and say, “He has no proof of that. Why would his Dad or the police believe him?” She shakes her head sadly, “You Kathoey now; like me. He word much better than you or mine… They listen him–you trust!”

I meet A-Wut in the alley, as usual, right before I have to go back in for the night, and he laughs at me again. He hands me the pills and watches me swallow them, as he says, “You see Dao? She tell you? You do what I say or you go prison.” I nervously laugh and say, “You can’t prove anything–especially since I did not do anything.” He laughs again and says, “I have pictures show Dao take pills. You Dao’s kathoey friend. Police believe me!”

I go back inside really worried. Could this be true? Am I considered less of a person now? Hom had said some people think that way here. Maybe the police really do think kathoey are third class like Hom says. Mom sees the concerned look on my face and asks me what is wrong. I just tell her that I am not sure I will be able to get ready in time on Monday. She giggles and tells me to set my clock at least an hour and a half earlier than normal.

Sunday is somewhat of a repeat of Saturday without the cleaning. Mom gets me up and I shower and practice putting makeup on. She makes me redo it over and over until I start getting faster and surer of what I am doing. It still takes me about forty minutes to do what Mom tells me I will eventually be able to do in twenty, but I feel like I have a chance of getting some sleep tonight and won’t have to get up at the crack of dawn to get ready. Mom does let me go outside a little more, so I spend some time talking with Dao and, of course, meet with A-Wut.

Monday starts out as a mad rush. I get up an hour and a half early and am barely ready to go on time. I know it will get better once I am not so nervous, but this morning is a total mess. I finally get to school and it is almost like registering all over again. I go to the front office and Miss Karawek is waiting for me. She smiles and hugs me when she sees me, then takes me to her office. She has me sit and says, “You look very nice, Kanya. Are you ready to go to class? There are a couple of things that I want to discuss first…”

She goes on to tell me that, since the school does not have dedicated kathoey bathrooms that I will hve to use the staff ones–otherwise, I will have to use the boy’s ones. She also tells me that my records at school have been changed to Kanya and that is the name that I must use. She takes me to class and leaves me with Hom, who is beside herself when she recognizes me.

The day is a strange mix of sensations and reactions. None of the students think anything about me being a kathoey. The things that create the buzz are that I, an American, decide to be a kathoey, and that there is now officially one at the school. My homeroom teacher is actually really nice to me. Things do take a turn for the worse, though…

It is between second and third period when I run into A-Wut. As usual, he hands me the pills with the usual warning to do as he says. I have just swallowed them, when he suddenly thrusts the pill vials in my hand and starts shouting nonsense at me. Miss Karawek comes around the corner and demands to know what is going on. A-Wut starts talking in rapid Thai and Miss Karawek looks at me, alarmed. She takes the pill vials from my hand and marches both of us to her office.

Once she closes her door, she looks at me and says, “A-Wut says that you asked him to get these hormone pills for you, since you knew his Dad is a doctor at the sex change clinic. He says that you paid him for them and have been taking them for over two weeks now and that you asked him to get you more. Is that true?” I look at A-Wut, who has a smug look on his face. I am stunned that the pills really arewants Miss Karawek to know I was taking the pills but I can’t figure out why. Miss Karawek looks thoughtful and asks me, “And you are determined to take them?” I nod, sure that this is the response A-Wut expects. She says, “OK, I know that overwhelming need to take them. I also know that if I take these away, or tell your mother, you will just find another way to get them. It is far too easy in this country. Am I right?” I nod, looking absolutely sure, but absolutely at a loss as to how to get out of this.

Miss Karawek goes to her phone and calls someone, once again speaking in Thai. In a few minutes, the school nurse comes in. Miss Karawek looks at me and says, “From now on Nurse Buppha is going to give you the hormones so that we know that you are getting the proper and safe dose. I don’t like doing it without your Mom knowing, but I would rather do this and know you are safe if I can’t stop you. Miss Buppha will give you weekly shots for a while, then, later, if you still want them, monthly ones. You will get one shot in each butt cheek, so bend over.” She says something to the nurse in Thai as I do what she says and I feel a prick and strong burn in each butt cheek; then the nurse leaves.

Miss Karawek shakes her head and says, “Kanya, I took pills like you were when I was young and almost killed myself. I know what you are going through and I am here to help you. Please don’t do things that you don’t tell your Mom without at least telling me. Kathoey always help one another and I will help, just like the one that saved me, but you have to let me. Nurse Buppha is also a kathoey, like us, and will help you to no end. But you have to let us!”

She sits down just as the phone rings. She answers and speaks for a while into the phone in Thai as I sit there and rub my sore butt. Finally, she hangs up and says, “Kanya, that was Malee. She was just telling me that she knows and that the hormones have started affecting your breasts; that you have beginning breast buds. Your breasts are going to start to grow more quickly now. You are going to start to grow and get feminine curves. The blockers in your system are making sure that you don’t start producing boy’s hormones. The girl’s hormones are going to make you girly. It has already started. You probably have been really emotional. Your nipples are getting bigger. The dark area around your nipples is getting bigger. Your breasts are getting bigger. It will be impossible to hide this from your mother for long. In a few weeks to months, it will really start to show. Shouldn't we tell your Mom?”

To be continued in Part 5.