Kat’s Window

During one of my first grocery shopping trips in Bangkok, I was stunned as I watched the clerks in charge of reshelving merchandise playing a multi-participant game of catch with the goods. Pillows were flying and paper towels were somersaulting through the air before eventually making their way to the appropriate shelf.

I sat there wondering what would happen if the boss came, how many safety codes they were violating, and how they could be enjoying themselves so much. I was missing the point. The point of most things in Thailand is to have ’sanuk,’ otherwise known as ‘fun’.

The Thai ability to have fun is on the verge of supernatural and comes, well, very naturally. In contrast to the western workplace, where laughing, telling jokes, and chatting are seen by most as a sign of non-productivity, in Thailand it is seen as a necessity.

If the employees are not having fun, they are destined to quit. Giggling workers are part of the office landscape and are also productive. I asked a friend why he recently quit his job. He stated, “My boss was too serious. It was not fun. He was not fun. My heart was not happy and that is bad.” How ironic, as I just watched a show on consultants getting paid big bucks to teach ‘Learn How to Laugh’ workshops in the workplace back in the United States.

There are an abundance of tedious, backbreaking jobs in Thailand. I look at traffic policeman, road workers, garbage men, farmers, or factory workers toiling in the tropical heat for close to no money. When I observe the situation closely, I no longer remark the drudgery but rather the fact that everyone seems to be getting on with it. They sing, joke, flirt, and chat their way through the long hours whereas I am certain I would spend most of the time mumbling and groaning.

During a trip up north outside of Sukothai I missed the last bus back into town. I ended up hitching a ride on a tractor with a group of farmers. Piles of cigarettes, food, and a bottle of whisky were already out. The driver got another shot for the road and we putted back to town at a snail’s pace. It was one of the most festive and cheerful atmospheres I have ever experienced.

I know that I am guilty of thinking that fun is designated to take place at a special place, at a special time, or on a special day. I used to marvel at the parties in the neighbourhood park that were not happening on the weekends. Fun knows no date calendar in Thailand. It is omni-present.

Thais want to laugh. This can make for some strange situations because they will laugh at things not considered to be funny by western standards. For example, falling down a flight of stairs can be greeted with laughter. During a recent hospital stay due to food poisoning I had an IV in to rehydrate me. On a wobbly journey into the bathroom I somehow managed to disconnect the tubes. Blood spurted everywhere. I stood there totally terrified and said something to the affect of, “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” The nurses giggled.

The Thai sense of fun expresses itself in many ways. Thailand is the capital of silly plastic things that, at least on the outside, serve no practical purpose. Looking into passing cars, one can see plastic helicopters attached to air vents to make the propellers spin, plastic figures set on springs to make them ‘boing’ around, stuffed animals, and a vast array of brightly coloured pillows, tissue dispensers, and stickers. This all makes the ride more enjoyable.

Hello Kitty, Elmo, Cookie Monster, and Snoopy bags, binders, cellular phones, shoes, purses, screen savers, pens, and clothing are used by virtually all age groups in Thailand. Cellular phones are frequently equipped with flashing neon lights and antennae accessories. Well, why not?

I keep getting strange tissue dispensers as gifts. Usually made out of wood, you set a roll of toilet paper inside the designated area thus allowing the tissue to be dispensed through the chimney of the house, the roof of the car, the nose of the pig, or the mouth of the fish. At first I was baffled. Now I understand that these are all designed to make using tissues more fun.

Upon returning from dinner, a shopping excursion, or a stroll down the street, the question you are mostly likely to be asked is, “Was it fun?” If it was not fun, then it certainly wasn’t worth doing in the first place. Christmas is popular among Thais not as a religious event for the majority, but rather because it is fun.

Thailand is called ‘The Land of Smiles’ for a reason. I believe that the pervading sense of humour and ability to have a good chuckle is partly responsible for this. They say a laugh a day keeps the doctor away. If this were truly the case, there would be no illness here.

There are herds motorcycle drivers waiting at almost every corner in Bangkok. They will zip you away, weave you in and out of tailgates, and head against traffic for a very low price and at a very high speed.

I have only ridden a motorcycle taxi one time in downtown Bangkok. I feared for my kneecaps and my life. In my smaller and less chaotic neighborhood I almost always take a motorcycle taxi to my local grocery store. It is fun, it is cheap, and I get to experience a great variety of driving styles. A ten-minute ride costs seven baht (17 US cents).

It was at my local grocery store where I caught up with a 25-year-old motorcycle taxi driver named Anan. He lives in my village in a small one-room apartment with his wife Wanna (26) and his one-year-old son, Natapong. He has been married for two years.

My neighbourhood has a disproportionate number of motorcycle drivers in relation to the population. This makes the competition stiff. Outside of my grocery store the pink-jacketed drivers and the green-jacketed drivers wait and holler and hoot to attract customers. Each group forms a line and each member waits their turn for a customer. Most drivers chat, snack, play checkers, or joke around until it is their turn to earn some money.

Every motorcycle taxi driver has their own coloured vest and number assigned to them. These vests give the driver the right to operate on a given corner and are sold at variable prices. Anan’s vest cost 5,000 baht (125 US dollars) and has the number 43 embroidered on it. Some of Bangkok’s street corners are virtual gold mines, with the drivers never having to wait for customers. These vests can cost more than 100,000 baht (2,500 US dollars). If a driver decides to move on to another job, he finds someone who wants to buy his vest.

Anan has worked as a motorcycle taxi driver for almost two years. He originally worked as a repairman after finishing school at the age of fifteen. He now begins work at 6 a.m. and finishes at 10 p.m. He waits between fifteen minutes and one hour for one customer. If it is a very slow day, he goes home. Anan makes about 250 baht a day (6.25 US dollars) and pays 80 baht (2 US dollars) of this for gasoline. This leaves him with about 5,100 baht a month as income (127.50 US dollars) for 16-hour workdays with no vacation.

Anan pays 1,500 baht (37.50 US dollars) for his small one-room apartment that has no air-conditioning. He has a television and video player, which he bought on monthly installments. He is proud that they are both paid off now. He has no phone or stereo. His electricity costs about 300 baht (7.50 US dollars) a month. He bought his second-hand 150-cc Honda motorcycle on credit one year ago with a 5,000 baht (125 US dollars) down payment. He pays 2, 500 baht (62.50 US dollars) every month on installment

His wife Wanna has worked as a flower vendor for the last ten years. Their son comes to work with her from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m. outside the grocery store. It is unclear how much money she earns. A crowd of about twelve people had gathered around us during the course of the interview and he seemed reluctant to give a straight quote on her income.

Since the interview, I have noticed that there are many days when her flower stall is closed. The family needs about 6,000 baht (150 US dollars) a month for food according to Anan. I believe this is roughly his wife’s income.

Anan says he enjoys playing football and snooker. I asked him what he would do if I gave him 20,000 baht (500 US dollars). He replied, “I would put it in the bank for my son’s future.” This is obviously a couple who is scraping by, pinching their pennies, and hoping that their son will be the one to pave a brighter future for the family.

When I asked Anan what he thought about foreigners living in Thailand, he said, “There are good foreigners and bad ones just like there are good people and bad people everywhere. The good things about foreigners in Bangkok are that they spend a lot of money, especially the tourists. They can teach Thai people many things. Foreigners are smart. The bad thing is that foreign men like to take Thai women as girlfriends or wives and sometimes they are not very nice to them at all.”

Anan intends to keep working as a motorcycle driver. His dream for the future is to get out of Bangkok and return to the countryside north of the city in Nakhon Sawan. He would like to work as a motorcycle driver there. It was clear he found it strange that I would be interested in his life at all.

I have decided to let you all in on a big secret this week. I would like to share with you my favourite destination in Thailand. I have visited most of Thailand’s hot spots and many other less-known destinations. If given a chance right now to get in my car and take off, I would drive to Sangkhlaburi. I like to call it “Thailand’s worst best destination.”

The drive to Sangkhlaburi is breathtaking. Scenic, filled with fresh air, lush tropical greenery, and strange looking mountains, it is one gigantic photo opportunity. There are many stops to be made along the way: ancient Cambodian Khmer ruins at Prasat Meuang Singh Historical Park, the Sai Yok and Noi Yok waterfalls (scenes for the movie “The Deer Hunter” were filmed in this area), and my favourite resting spot, the Hin Daat Hot Springs, are all easily reached and thoroughly enjoyable.

Sangkhlaburi is about six hours west of Bangkok and sits on the Burmese border in the middle of nowhere. There is nothing to do there, or at least that’s what it looks like when you first roll into town. In actuality, Sangkhlaburi is chock-full of excitement.

Downtown Sangkhlaburi is tiny. About three major blocks make up the ‘main drag.’ Don’t let the size or bleakness fool you. Within this small area there is a public park, a post office, a small grocery store, two karaoke bars, a handful of restaurants, a shopping area, an auto parts store, an outdoor food market, hotels, a clothing market, a gas station, a photo shop, a barber, a bus station, a video games parlour, a bank, a pharmacy, a hospital, and a noodle stall that sells the best noodle soup known to mankind. We haven’t even left downtown yet, and what more could you want?

Another great thing about Sangkhlaburi is that it sits next to the beautiful man-made Khao Laem Lake. This provides a scenic and spectacular view of not only water and floating houses, but of a gigantic wooden bridge that connects the town to one of the local temple grounds and villages. Believe it or not, when I sit on my hotel balcony at night and the lights on the bridge are turned on and the water level of the reservoir is just right, the reflections make the bridge look like a gigantic harmonica. I have tried repeatedly to capture this phenomenon on film, but you will just have to trust me on this one.

Looking at the very clever brochure of my favourite hotel, the Sangkhalia River Hut and Resort, I am always in awe of the slightly false but clever advertising. Everything looks neat, bustling, and in good repair. There is no such thing as bustling in Sangkhlaburi, except perhaps on long weekends when some Bangkokians have the time to make the trip.

It’s O.K. that my air-conditioner usually goes ‘clunk clunk’ or ‘whirl boom’ and that the bed is hard and the coffee undrinkable. I sit out on the balcony every morning and force myself through a cup of the unthinkable with joy, feeling refreshed and looking forward to a new day of adventure.

Cows, elephants, ducks, geese, children, and dogs cross the streets, making the general speed of traffic about 20 kilometers per hour. Sangkhlaburi lets you exhale, shift into first gear, and float slowly through your days of visual and auditory surprise.

Sangkhlaburi is a cultural gold mine. Many different ethnic groups cohabitate without problems. Buddhist and Muslim, Thai, Thai-Chinese, Burmese, and Burmese minority groups make up the population.

On the outskirts of town you can find even more entertainment. A beautiful Buddhist temple ground called Wat Wang Wiwekaram features a beautiful and ornate golden chedi. The grounds are complete with handicraft market. Wooden tissue dispensers in the shape of cars, elephants, houses, fish, pigs, and tuk-tuks are a steal at about three US dollars each. Blankets, wooden carvings, cloth, jewelry, coaster sets, and thousands of objects that you never thought existed or that you should posses abound.

The Thai-Burmese border town, The Three Pagoda Pass, is also not too far away. A famous area for border skirmishes, trade, and military activity, the three pagodas themselves always look gigantic in postcards, but it is amazing how tiny they are in real life.

While in Sangkhlaburi, you can enjoy a canoe or boat trip on the lake, go on an elephant and raft riding excursion, partake in some bird or people watching, or visit villages of Burmese-minority-group refugee camps. You can explore the Buddhist temple caves or monasteries stuck deep in the forest, visit the Thung Yai Naresuan National Park with a guide, or intentionally turn on to back roads and discover what awaits you.

If I really want to spoil myself, I head down to Thong Pha Phum, considered to be the ‘big city’, and try the whole baked chicken marinated in Coca-Cola and stuffed with hay at the Baytong Restaurant. It is delicious.

Sangkhlaburi gives me that good old ‘home away from home’ feeling everytime and reminds me that, yes, there is more to a book than just its cover.

A friend once asked me what one of the most valuable aspects of Thai society is. I replied without hesitation, “The sense of community and family.” There are exceptions to every rule, but in general family is the backbone of life in Thailand.

It is not a career, a mortgage payment, or striking it out on your own that comes first: it is your brethren. Teenagers typically do not sit around counting the days until they can leave the nest. Generations often live under one roof. If families move apart, close ties and financial and emotional support are maintained. This strong and extended family unit offers security to each member.

There are cases of parents abusing, abandoning, and forcing their children into labour in Thailand. But for the healthy and functional Thai family, children are cherished and spoiled by their parents. They are usually raised with the help of the extended family. They are seen as future caregivers and breadwinners. Children respect their elders, and each family member knows their own place within the hierarchy of the family and the duties that come with their position. When children mature, taking care of their parents is not a burden; it is viewed as an honour.

I spoke to a 23-year-old reporting specialist named Mr. Natawood regarding Thai family values. He is of Chinese descent and is on the conservative and traditional side of the younger Thai generation.

He lives with his mother (50), father (53), and three sisters (18, 20, and 25) in an apartment building in Bangkok. His family resides in apartment #1, his grandmother and grandfather live in apartment #2, and his aunts and uncles live in apartment #5.

His older sister works and his younger sisters are studying at universities. Their apartment has three bedrooms. He shares one bedroom with his three sisters, his parents sleep in the other, and one bedroom is vacant. He says he enjoys talking with his sisters before they fall asleep at night. Privacy is not as cherished as it is in the West.

Each child has chores to do around the house. Mr. Natawood is in charge of taking out the garbage, polishing everyone’s shoes, cleaning the downstairs floor, and washing the car.

Mr. Natawood returns home every day after work. His mother cooks breakfast, lunch, and dinner for their family and he states, “Her food is delicious and cleaner than what you can buy outside. I like to go home and eat with my family. After dinner, we all have a family meeting and talk about our day and watch television together.” On weekends, the entire extended family goes to a restaurant and talks about politics, how they are doing, and their personal concerns.

Mr. Natawood gives one-third of his income to his parents and the rest he uses or saves for himself. His father is the financial manager of the household. If Mr. Natawood marries one day, his wife will come and live at his parents’ home. If his sisters marry, they will leave and join their husband’s home.

I asked what happens when there is a disagreement within the family. He stated, “We all sit down and talk about it. We define the problem and then my parents explain through examples and reason why it should or should not be that way. If I disagree with them, I must have many good reasons why. I follow their rules. They understand. They want the best for me. My parents are wise. If they do not know the answer to my questions or problems, they consult with my relatives.”

Even while he was studying at university, Mr. Natawood rarely went out at night. He stated, “I don’t want to make my parents worry about me, so I am a good boy.” When his mother fell severely ill eight years ago, he was terrified. When he asked his father to quit smoking, he took his son’s advice.

When asked how he felt about many people in the West placing their parents in nursing homes he said, “Foreigners live more independently. They do not take care of their parents. I don’t know why. You have a different culture. We must take care. Our parents raise us, feed us, and provide us with education. When they get old, they no longer have strength. Nursing homes are not a good place. The people do not know each other and they want to be with their families. We live together and we know each other. If you go and live with strangers, you have problems. My parents know that we will take care of them.” I think of the comfort Mr. Natawood’s parents must feel in knowing this.

I am now 30 years old and my husband is 36. We have no children. Most people say “But you are going to be alone when you get old!” Well, I look around and see plenty of parents living alone regardless of how many children they have.

Mr. Natawood states, “You only have one mother and one father in the world. I want to live with them.” I hope that as modernization and globalization catch up with Thailand, families will continue to hold on to each other and their beliefs. I hope that when I am old and gray someone will hold on to me too.