Place of the Spirit By Glenda Winders Copley News Service In "Siam," which I read just before visiting Bangkok, Lily Tuck describes Jim Thompson's house as at once earthy and elegant, often open to guests while remaining private and protecting its owner's secrets. Lacquer bowls filled with pistachios and macadamia nuts and five-colored Bencharong porcelains adorn teak furniture upholstered in Thai silks of red, purple, yellow and blue. At the dinner party her characters attend, well-dressed dignitaries and beautifully coifed women sip champagne and whiskey delivered by sarong-wrapped servants running barefoot across hardwood floors. Tuck's historical novel about the American presence in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War begins in March 1967, just days before Thompson went to Malaysia on vacation and disappeared into the jungle without a trace. But Thompson's real-life role in Thailand's history and development began long before that. He arrived in Thailand as a member of the Office of Strategic Services just as World War II was ending. He fell in love with the country and its friendly people and decided to settle th ere after his discharge. A wife who didn't share his passion divorced him and stayed behind. Thompson became interested in the Thai silk-making industry, which had nearly vanished in the wake of machine-made fabrics. He organized a group of investors into the Thai Silk Co. Ltd. and created a market for the sumptuous cloth by taking samples to show fashion and interior designers in New York. Silks created by the company were also used in the original version of the movie "The King and I." Thompson, a passionate patron and collector of Thai art, further boosted the local economy and the arts community by opening his artifact-packed home to visitors twice a week with money from the tours--both then and now--used to further encourage Thai artisans. Seeing the house was one of my first priorities when I arrived in Bangkok and getting there was made easier than it might once have been by the new Skytrain elevated transport service. Bangkok is famous for its traffic snarls, and I saw plenty of those while I was there too, but the Skytrain whisks passengers over the top of all that in cool comfort and delivers them efficiently to their destinations. When I got off at the National Stadium station, I was greeted by the smells of grilling meats and curry mixtures being ground by mortar and pestle. Vendors squatted by hibachi-like grills or hawked T-shirts from card tables set up under the sparse shade of opened umbrellas. The short walk from the station along a busy sidewalk also took me down a crowded side street where the exhaust fumes from several busy garages merged with the smell of cooking food. On a hot, steamy summer day, the results weren't altogether pleasant. But when I turned into the Thompson property, it was like I had stepped into an oasis of calm and back into the early 20th century. The teak house and its companion shop, gallery and service buildings are situated on a klong, or canal, and surrounded by lush, wild green gardens that Thompson often referred to as his jungle. A reverent hush reigns, as though visitors are paying homage to the man who created this haven and the art he assembled both to enjoy and to share. Thompson began work on his house in September 1958. When the first pillar was put into place, nine Buddhist priests blessed it. A second ceremony was held when the location for the spirit house was decided. This structure is a symbolic dwelling place for the spirits, said to watch over the home and property. A miniature version of the main house must be situated in a spot in the northeast corner of the property where the shadow of the home never falls on it. Residents frequently adorn it with offerings of flowers and fruit. A third ritual was performed when the house was completed. The "house" is actually a compound that grew from one building to six. The various components are connected by dense gardens and a herringbone brick pathway. Its form and shape changed several times between the initial conceptual drawings and its completion, and its separate parts came from several places. Determined to build his house by traditional Thai methodsóelevated to protect the home from animals and floods, wide at the bottom and narrow at the top with a steep peaked roofóThompson imported carpenters and some parts of the entrance hall from outlying Ayutthaya. The dining room is part of a structure from the village of Pak Hai, and the drawing room was a building Thompson had admired in the village of Bang Krua and had taken down and reassembled on his side of the Klong Maha Nag canal. He reversed the walls so that the carved shutters and windowsills could be seen by those inside and the windows used as display spaces for artwork. The doors that separate the drawing room and bedroom were once the entrance to a Chinese pawnshop in Bangkok. Because the home faces the canal, the entrance from the street is actually at the rear. Visitors must take off their shoes and walk barefoot throughout the tour, taking care to step high over the raised thresholds, which are supposed to keep evil spirits out and also strengthen the walls. Stepping on them is said to bring bad luck. A treasure trove of art and architecture awaits visitors once they are inside, but the museum manages to keep its integrity as a home. A headless Buddha, the first of many Buddhist statues, greets them, but beyond this piece is much moreófrom the 19th century teak screens used to divide the rooms and black-and-white Carrara marble flooring gleaned from a demolished Bangkok temple to 15th-century enamel boxes, Italian cherry cabinets and china from the Ming dynasty. The dining room table, set as if Thompson were still there and preparing for a dinner party, is adorned with blue and white china from the 17th century. Other pieces were salvaged from a box on a ship that sank 200 years ago. Overhead is a crystal chandelier from a 19th-century Bangkok palace. Temple banners and 16th-century cloth paintings of the life of Buddha done by anonymous priests adorn the walls. Some poignant reminders of Thompson's presence in the house remain. His love of flowers is recalled in bouquets of jasmine and roses throughout the house, and his books still remain on the shelf in his study. The members of my tour group instinctively crowded close to see what he enjoyed reading. Not surprisingly, most of the books concern travel and adventure. Thompson's influence is still felt in the silk industry that continues to flourish, but many young Thais don't realize how the Thai Silk Co. came to be. "He disappeared 33 years ago," said Jane Puranananda, an American historian who married a Thai man and now teaches visitors Thai history. "People who know the story are impressed, especially if they realize the history, but many people in Bangkok don't know about him." The gift shop at his house and the company's main store at 9 Surawong Road mimic the decor of his home. Teak walls, marble floors and statuary provide a backdrop for displays of exquisite silks woven in a limited but striking palette of mostly browns and blues. The James H.W. Thompson Foundation also works to keep both his memory and his work alive with art exhibits and symposia. If You Go I stayed at the Shangri-La Hotel, which like many other of the major hotels is conveniently located and with a view of the comings and goings on the Chao Phraya River. The scenic ride by Skytrain from nearby Saphan Taksin station took only about 15 minutes. The house is on Soi Kaseman Song just off Rama I Road and can also be reached by taxi or tuk-tuk. It opens at 9 a.m. daily, and the last tour begins at 4:30 p.m. Cost is 100 baht (about $2.50) for adults, 50 baht ($1.25) for students. For further information, visit www.jimthompsonhouse.com. Glenda Winders is an editor and columnist for Copley News Service.