A Typical Bangok Canal

Not surprisingly, land along a smelly canal full of black water does not exactly qualify as prime real estate.  As a result, those who live alongside the many canals of the capital are inevitably poor.  With the exception of some of the larger, better maintained canals, you will usually find corrugated aluminum type shacks lining the raised banks of most of the smaller canals.

Just yesterday while on a run, I came across one of these neighborhoods.  I recently moved to a different apartment, about 4km from my previous place, and this week has been full of exploratory runs as I scout out potential new running territory.  While scrolling through google maps I noticed a dark black line tracing through a neighborhood about a kilometer south of my apartment.  The line plotted a consistent course through the neighborhood ranging from east to west and it was only after zooming in a few levels that I realized it wasn’t a road but a very narrow canal.  I knew immediately that my run that evening would take me along this canal, as Bangkok canals, despite presenting a few unique obstacles, pass for “ideal” running spots in a city that is decidedly runner-unfriendly.

This new discovery didn’t disappoint.  Most of my previous canal running experience in Bangkok has fallen on the broad shoulders of the Saen Saep canal, one of the few canals in the city that still supports a working passenger boat service, and has even served as an inspiration for world premiere as a stage writer!  The Saen Saep is easily 50 meters wide at points and it feels like a more substantial flow of water.  The canal I ran on yesterday (which I have yet to find a name for) was much smaller, usually only 5-10 meters across.  A small path, slightly narrower than a standard suburban sidewalk, hugged the rim of the canal while a broad canopy generously shaded me from the last hour of sunlight.  The temps were the same as they are for every one of my runs in Bangkok, 90 degrees with a dew point hovering between 70 to 75.

It turned out to be an immensely enjoyable run.  At times I felt as if I was literally running thru peoples living rooms or at least front porches, because of they way they have informally expanded their houses to sit on stilts extending over the canal.  A small roof, inevitably less than 6 feet tall, will connect the mainland portion with the canal side extension forcing me to dodge people transiting different parts of their house while hunched over in an attempt to avoid any serious damage to my head.  Additional obstacles include cats and dogs lazily sleeping on the path and uneven cracks in the sidewalk that force me to clip and lengthen my stride when appropriate.

I have no doubt that I am a strange sight to anyone who suddenly has their cozy canal path invaded by this tall and goofy looking farang.  But I never get a feeling of animosity from anyone, usually any looks I receive are of indifference or curiosity.  I plod alongside the canal and I almost forget that I sweating through the middle of a huge metropolis of 10 million people.  Along the canal, everything feels older, slower, and peaceful.  I don’t want to slide into a flow of nostalgia here, but it is a slice of what I imagine a lot more of Bangkok looked like only 20 or 30 years ago.

During Abhisit’s speech, the podium he spoke from was oriented sideways to the audience because he was required to address his speech in the direction of Her Royal Highness, Princess Chulabhorn, who was was seated on the stage, awaiting her turn to give the keynote address for the conference.  The Princess spoke at length about the public health consequences of growing carbon emissions levels in Asian cities.  With a background in the sciences, including a PhD from Mahidol University, the Princess offered research findings from her own biomedical and chemistry research institute.

The ceremony was incredibly formal, with every speech beginning with a litany of titles, my favorite being “His and Her Excellencies.”   Upon her entrance and exit from the UNESCAP Hall, everyone in the room stood and a song, which I’m assuming was the royal song of the Princess, was played.  I can’t say I learned much from the my first day at the conference, but the event was enjoyable mainly for the novelty of it all, the exacting protocols of formality.  I feel like I can now place another important slice of Thai society into my memory bank, a most excellent one at that.

But time moved on.  I got older, I made more trips to Thailand, and I eventually entered the Asia Pacific Leadership Program, roughly nine years after my first visit to Asia.  Within my first few days in Hawaii I had 4 new Burmese friends, which is four more than I had had up to that point in my life.  I talked with them, we watched documentaries on the recent monk-led protests, and all of a sudden a clearer window into their country began to open.  The idea of me finally making a trip there began to feel more real.  Actually being able to go and visit with people there who I considered good friends made a potential trip feel like something that could be cherished rather than ignored, despite what ASSK said.

These thoughts began to feel more real during the initial meetings with my Group Independent Study and Travel (GIST) partners during the last weeks in December.  Over the course of GIST there are three group meetings (orientation/lanch, mid-way reunion, and final wrap-up/presentation).  From the start, Burma was floated as a potential final meeting place and the group quickly coalesced around the idea.  In my next post, I will comment on the actual experience in Burma and what the lasting impressions were.

There are tense moments, black cats, staccato musical notes, and lots of other horror movie clichés, but it doesn’t take long to realize what this movie actually is:  A critique of the Thai middle class dream disguised as a ghost story.  From the first appearance of a ghost, most of the neighborhood is quickly packing up to leave, they know better than to mess with a Burmese maid looking for revenge.  Unfortunately, the father isn’t so smart.  He has finally put a down payment on his dream home and is too busy buying new flat screen TVs and other status markers to realize that he should run away from the home and back to the relative tranquility of their Bangkok rental.

Soon thereafter he loses the sales job that he was relying on to make the hefty month mortgage payments.  In a particularly poignant scene, he is shown almost in tears looking at himself in the mirror, buttoning up a polo shirt advertising the mini-mart where he has been reduced to working as a glorified janitor.  Add to this a deteriorating relationship with his daughter and wife and you want to yell at him to run away from this trap of a house as soon as possible.  But the power and pull of the middle class dream and all it stands for can not be underestimated.  While his wife and daughter are packing up the car to head back to Bangkok, dad is still installing the backyard swing set.  Ultimately, this story doesn’t end well.  With obvious shadows of “death of a salesman” lingering in the directors head, the final scenes are quite predictably tragic.

A cautionary tale about the dangers of glamorizing home ownership is not what you would expect from a Thai ghost movie and though I would not say I found the movie particularly enjoyable, it did force me to think, which is sadly more than I can usually say of mainstream Thai movies. Below is the official Laddaland trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HCYyCH6ENM&feature=channel_video_title

I know that lists of “required” qualifications are often more suggestions than actual requirements and that they need to be taken with a grain of salt.  Though the job posting says they require someone fluent in Thai, I still plan to apply for that job even though I am light-years away from any level of fluency.  This process of seeing a barrier and not letting the fear and insecurities associated with it stop me from pursuing it will be one of the things I hope to work on every day during my ongoing job search.

I  know with each return that it is going to be that much harder to ever totally say goodbye to this place.  It has seeped into me now to the point where to cut it permanently from my life would almost seem unimaginable.  Perhaps more than anywhere it is what I should I call my “home” right now.

It has been little more than two months since the political protests in central Bangkok came to a fiery climax, with buildings, tires, and buses set ablaze after red shirt protesters retreated in the face of armed soldiers.  The red shirts have disappeared from the streets for the time being.  It is bizarre to walk on the same streets where so many people died in violent conflict so recently.  If you lived in a media vacuum and emerged into the same streets today you would have no idea of the human tragedy that still lingers.  Even the burnt core of the Central World complex is obscured with supersized advertising as repair work continues.

Political tensions remain strong, with many people criticizing Prime Minister Abisit’s decision to extend a state of emergency in Bangkok and several other parts of the country which bans people from gathering in large groups.  There is still no timetable for a new round of general elections.  Though Thailand has temporarily removed itself from world news headlines things are still very unstable and not healthy here.

This brings me to the video I’ve embedded. It is a commercial (or more like a short film) made by a group of independent media peoples.  Forget that it is set to Auld Lang Syne.  I find it to be a deeply moving piece that does something you rarely see in Thai media circles.  It asks challenging questions to Thai people. It forces people to think critically about their country, about what has happened, why it happened, and where we need to forcus ourselves from here.  I think it should be essential viewing for all citizens.

Of course, the Thai censors do not share my enthusiasm.  It has been banned from thai tv, banished to youtube.  Even PM Abisit admitted that this is a mistake that should be corrected.  One commentator suggested that this clip should be played twice a day following the nationally televised thai national anthem played every day at 8am and 6pm.  I agree.  Media censorship in Thailand has long been a problem.  Recent estimates but the number of blocked websites at over 50,000, and film makers have long cried foul of the scenes that are forcibly removed from their films.  I know Thailand is not the only country facing censorship problems, but I can’t help but think that censorship of videos like “We’re sorry, Thailand” is only going to hurt the country in the long run and obfuscate the path to a more peaceful and harmonious future.