Thailand is a foreign country; they do things differently there. Sorry – I’m sure you didn’t really need Temporarily Thairish to tell you that, but I’m not feeling overly inspired today and I was somewhat stuck for a good opening line. It’s true, though. Almost every day over here I see something utterly bizarre – e.g. two straight Thai men walking down the beach holding hands with each other – and ask myself, “What the fuck is that about?” Unfortunately, I never know the answer. Obviously enough, I’m the wrong person to ask.
Actually, that just used to be the case. Last week I was browsing in a Thong Sala second-hand bookstore and came across a veritable Book of Revelations – a tattered old volume with the grammatically suspect title Culture Shock! Thailand. Written by an American couple named Robert and Nanthapa Cooper, and published back in 1982, the book is basically an ex-pat’s guide to the Land of Smiles rather than a typical tourist guidebook. Although it’s more than 20 years old, I’ve found that much of the information contained within its yellowed pages is still relevant today. Like the fact that in Thailand, same-sex adults holding hands is a sign of friendship, and not necessarily of gay pride.
Seriously, the book was a real find. Reading through it, I found myself wincing from the very first page, and crying out “Wai me?” But only because the very first page addressed the subject of the Thai wai, and I couldn’t resist the pun. The wai is performed by putting your hands together, as if in prayer, and then raising them to your bowed face. I had thought it was the equivalent of a friendly greeting – both Ronald McDonald and the Michelin Man wai their customers over here – but it’s actually a lot more complicated than that.
As the book explains: “The position of the wai shows that your hands are empty of weapons and, in this aspect, the wai probably shares a common history with the western touching or clasping of swordhands – what we have come to term the handshake. However, the wai does far more than the handshake. Handshakes are between equals; the wai is, more often than not, an expression of inequality.”
Doh! Needless to say, I’ve been wai-ing everybody like a total prick since I got here, thinking I was just being friendly and down with the locals. In fact, what I was saying was, “You’re all superior to me!” But no more. From now on, I’m waiving the wai. Unless I meet the king. Or somebody who can properly explain to me what the hell Donnie Darko was about.
The next section that caught my eye concerned appropriate dress: “One taboo on dress for the visitor to bear in mind when invited to a party-type gathering is that Thais never go to a party dressed in black. This is because of the colour’s association with death. A Thai who is in mourning and wants to go to a party will change his clothes for the occasion. To turn up at somebody’s house party looking as if you are attending a funeral will not win you many friends.”
This explained everything! I went to a Bangkok house party a couple of weeks back and, from quite early on, all the Thais present were looking daggers at me. I thought they were pissed off because I arrived late, drank all the best whiskey, smashed a glass door, threw up on the carpet, tried to get off with the host’s 16-year-old daughter, and then took a prolonged piss against the spirit house in the front garden. But it was obviously none of the above. It was just because I was wearing a black suit. Silly me! The next time they invite me, I’ll be sure to wear something else.
A few pages later, under the heading ‘Flattery’, I came across the following shocking passage: “One of the most pleasant aspects of Thai small talk is the Thai zest for flattery. Try to keep your ego within limits when everything about you is being praised. Height, hair, eyes and skin colour are all acceptable subjects for praise. Having admitted to being over 40, you will be told you look 30. Such flattery can cross the sex line (within limits), but try to remember that it is only small talk!”
Just as I’d finished reading that, my landlady Mrs. Pong was passing. “Oi, Mrs. Pong!” I called out. “You know the way you’re always telling me that I’m ‘velly handsome’ and should be a movie star? Is that just a load of bullshit or do you really think that?”
Mrs. Pong seemed genuinely shocked. So much so that she turned away from me, gasped audibly, and briefly doubled over. Fortunately she soon recovered, and was able to turn and face me. “Oh no, Olaf,” she gushed. “You velly handsome man. Me and Pong both tink you should be in de movies. You make de perfect movie star. You have de right height, de right hair, de right eyes, and de most beautiful skin. And you only look 24.”
Ah well, I suppose the book can’t be right about everything.
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Of course, the opposite to flattery is criticism, and in the Land of Smiles you criticise with extreme caution. As Culture Shock! Thailand warns, “Face-to-face criticism is seen as a form of violence.” The book goes on to advise that if you do have to criticise somebody, you should always balance it with praise – using a ratio of 10 parts praise to one part criticism. The golden rule is ‘always be nice’.
I decided to test this one out. I’ve been having serious problems with the power in my bungalow. The Ko Pha-Ngan electricity supply is erratic to say the least, and often if I plug my laptop in while the air conditioning is running, the power suddenly cuts out. Essentially, I can’t have both running at the same time. Day or night, it gets sauna-hot in the room without air-con, and I’m constantly worried that I’m going to short-circuit my laptop with a droplet of sweat. On the plus side, I’m shedding about two pounds per column.
Anyway, I’ve complained to Mr. Pong about this on numerous occasions, but nothing’s been done about it. A few days ago, though, I tried the book’s approach. I went into the Double Duke and bought us both a beer. After a few minutes small-talking I broached the subject: “Pong, I’d just like to compliment you on the air-conditioning unit in my room. I see that it’s a Samsung – a good brand, and top of their range.”
Pong smiled broadly. “Yes – it was velly expensive. De best on de truck.”
“I also think that the fact that you got your half-blind, half-wit cousin to install it shows both your strong commitment to family, and that you’re a kind and considerate human being – always willing to help those less fortunate than yourself.”
Pong bowed his head humbly. “Tank you, Olaf. Velly kind of you to say dat.”
“The fan in the room is excellent as well. Very, em, excellent. Like, it’s a great fan. The best that’s ever . . . fanned me.”
Pong was loving this. “I have de velly same one in my room,” he told me. “It velly good, yes.”
“Have I mentioned that you’re looking great today,” I added. “Have you done something with your hair?”
“Ha, ha! No.”
“Maybe it’s your moustache. Have you trimmed it or something?”
He ran a finger under his nose, and looked at me peculiarly. “No.”
I was running out of compliments, and decided to cut to the chase. “Anyway, the thing is that every time I plug my laptop in, the power cuts out. It just seems a terrible shame to have that really great fan and air conditioner, but not to be able to put them to their intended use. I’ve mentioned it to you once before, but I know you’re a really busy man. But if you could find some time to sort it out, I’d really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” he smiled. “I fix today. Later. No worry. Another beer?”
“Are you buying?”
“No. Ha, ha!”
As I type these words, four days on, my entire body is soaking wet and I’m running out of fresh towels. I’ve also just spotted the following lines in Culture Shock! Thailand: “There are, of course, limits to being nice. Thailand may teach you yours.”
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In common with the rest of his countrymen, Prime Minister Thaksin isn’t a man who takes too kindly to criticism – of any kind. Last week, the first ever ‘PM Meets The Press’ conference was held in Bangkok. More than 100 Thai and foreign reporters gathered in Government House for the first encounter between the press corps and prime minister in a formal setting. I have no idea why I wasn’t invited.
A telecommunications billionaire (his family’s company launched a six-ton satellite into space recently), the Thai PM is obviously a very clever man, and he answered the questions put to him in a fluent combination of Thai, English and Japanese. Well, he didn’t actually speak Japanese – but he used a Japanese electronic toy to answer certain questions.
All was going fine and polite until somebody had the temerity to ask him about the controversial emergency decree currently in place in the violence-torn deep South. While it gives the authorities almost limitless powers, it doesn’t seem to be working very well. If anything, the situation is getting worse. For the last four weeks, 80% of Muslim businesses in the country’s three southernmost provinces have remained closed on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Separatists had distributed leaflets warning local Muslims that these days are for praying only, and anyone working on them would have their ears cut off.
When asked about this, Thaksin smiled superciliously and suddenly held up a small plastic toy – which resembled a microphone with a big ‘X’ disc on the top of it. When he pressed a button on the back, the toy emitted a buzzing sound similar to the type used to indicate an incorrect answer on TV game shows. Buzz! It was so totally unexpected that the whole room erupted into laughter.
When the laughter had died down, the PM explained that his son Panthongthae had brought it back from Japan. “I just borrowed it from him to play with you to relieve stress because the questions you ask are . . . oh-so heavy,” he sighed.
The press conference rapidly descended into total farce as Thaksin went on to repeatedly use the toy to shoot down any questions he didn’t like. The joke soon ran thin as journalists continued to press him on the deep South issue. Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! One foreign reporter asked whether the executive decree gave the authorities a “license to kill.” He immediately got buzzed. “Not constructive,” said Thaksin, dismissively. Ditto with all questions about the airport scandals. Well, almost all of them . . .
I wrote recently about how the Bangkok Post had got a story about dangerous cracks on the touchdown points of the runways of the newly built Suvarnabhumi Airport totally wrong. It turned out that there were cracks, but not where they had been reported to be. The paper printed a front-page retraction on August 10, and is now facing an expensive criminal libel suit, as well as a one-billion-baht compensation claim.
Last week, the paper’s news editor, Chadin Tephaval, tendered his resignation in a show of responsibility for the error. He had been with the paper for 24 years. At Thaksin’s press conference, he was asked if the government would continue to press the lawsuit, now that somebody had admitted responsibility. Leaving his ‘X’ toy down momentarily, the PM replied that what happened at the Post was the newspaper’s internal affair and he had nothing to do with it. In other words, “See you in court, suckers!”
Soon after that, he was asked about the most recent airport scandal (apparently, the roofing insulation cost an awful lot more than it should have). Buzz! “Not constructive!” When they were leaving, several disgruntled reporters said they wouldn’t be back for the next one. “It’s just not worth coming,” one complained.
The following day’s Bangkok Post had a picture of the PM brandishing the ‘X’ toy and the sarcastic headline, ‘Thaksin toys with media, reporters not impressed’.