Kat’s Window

Being raised with four siblings sometimes made it easy to stay out of trouble. If anything got broken and we were asked to name the responsible party we would all state, “Not me.” ‘Not Me’ became the sixth child. ‘Not me’ also lives in Thailand. He is omnipotent and omnipresent. Contrary to popular belief, in Thailand accountability is a four-letter word. Or, let’s make it five instead. N-O-T M-E!

In Thailand no matter what goes wrong most of the time no one will step up to take the blame. If people are late to work, they tend not to admit that they overslept. They prefer to blame the traffic. When a bus or truck driver high on amphetamines has an accident killing all passengers, he or she usually flees the scene.

More than likely no one will step up and say, “Sorry. I really messed up.” If you choose to make the foolish decision of truly trying to get to the bottom of something, get ready for several twists and spins. The world can be one big scapegoat filled with half-truths, creative yarn spinning or the patter of feet as someone leaves the scene.

‘Not me’ has a nickname: saving face. In the majority of situations if someone really messes up, even when everyone is aware of it, no one will say anything. This keeps the incompetent person from looking bad. It ’saves their face’, meaning their public image is somehow preserved although everyone is well aware of the blunder they have made. It also serves to avoid conflict.

Thais usually dislike conflict of any kind (except sometimes when they are driving.) They try to diffuse tension (except sometimes when they have been drinking whisky.) The preferred solution in most negative situations is to simply ignore it or transfer the conflict to an inanimate object. This is a more passive response than most are used to. In the West we have come to rely on and expect finger pointing, even if it involves pointing at ourselves.

In Thailand when someone really needs to be told that they completely biffed it, the polite protocol is to quietly take them aside. Only under four-eyes should the real situation and blunder be brought out into the open. To do this in public would be a major faux pas and cause a major loss of face. Incompetence, no matter how great or small, is best addressed behind closed doors in a whisper.

The general rule is to never contradict or disagree with someone in public regardless of how justified you might be. A fitting example of this happened to me last week. I had gotten several negatives enlarged at a local photo shop. All of them looked fine except one. It was massively overdeveloped making the reds look tan so I brought it back. The clerk told me, “You must leave the original picture as an example to get good colour.” (There is no original to refer to when developing film the first time around, is there?)

She could not admit doing a bad job or she would lose face. I could not yell at her or make a fuss about it or I would lose face. Instead I went back home, got my original, and left it there so they could correctly reprint it. Thus everyone kept his or her face.

Saving face is all well and good until it comes down to the big issues. If someone gets killed in an industrial accident, fire exit doors are locked at a department store and hundreds of people perish, or if you fall down one of the many open manholes in Bangkok, too bad. There is only ‘Not Me’ to sue. On top of that, ‘Not Me’ has a plethora of possible hiding places within the massive bureaucratic system of Thailand. ‘Not Me’ does not hand out millions of dollars, period.

Thailand has a reputation for corruption and embezzlement. When this happens there is usually some commotion in the papers for a few days. Then the guilty party gets quietly transferred to a new department or job. It seems that Thai people are not very good at holding a grudge (at least on the outside) even if they have managed to track down ‘Not Me’ for once. In fact, most people (Thai and westerner alike) pretty much give up on finding ‘Not Me’ after a while. It’s just not worth the hassle.

A warehouse of military explosives near Don Muang International Airport accidentally blew up a few months ago. It just got too hot in there and BAH-BOOM! The incident was reported as being caused by soaring temperatures. No names were given and no improper storage techniques were cited.

I guess I have been living in Thailand for too long. I read the news articles and thought to myself, “Darn sun” while ‘Not Me’ stood off in the distance chuckling and relishing in the sweet victory of yet another caper.

Boonfak Suajamsin sits in front of my house almost every day. We have been waving hello and goodbye to each other for two years. She is very friendly and I am certain she keeps an eye on my house when I am not around. I can see her from my upstairs window right now. Boonfak sells her snacks and drinks come rain or shine. I decided to head across the street and talk to her about her life and business.

She is the mother of two daughters and has been married for 17 years. She comes from Patum Thani but has been living in Bangkok for 19 years. She works six days a week from 6 am until 4 pm. She takes in about 600 baht (13.33 US Dollars) a day, 380 baht (8.44 US Dollars) of which is profit. This means she makes 9,880 baht per month (219.55 US Dollars). She has been doing this for eight years.

She sells coffee (18-22 cents), cigarettes (1 US Dollar), tea (18-22 cents), water (11 cents), soft drinks (20 cents), matches (0.5 cents), peanuts (22 cents), doughnuts (13 cents) and lighters (18 cents). She purchased her vending cart and motorcycle for 25,000 baht (555 US Dollars). She points to it saying, “I don’t have a car. That is my car.”

Her family lives in a small two-bedroom house. They purchased their house for 600,000 baht (13,333 US dollars) and are paying a mortgage of 8,200 baht (182 US Dollars) a month. The family spends 6,000 baht (133 US Dollars) per month on food, 1,200 baht (26 US Dollars) per month on electricity, and each daughter needs about 400 baht (8.80 US Dollars) a week for clothes, school supplies, snacks, and transportation.

As I sat talking to Boonfak, her family arrived on the family’s 43,000 baht (955 US Dollars) Honda 110-cc motorbike. Her husband, an exhausted and grumpy looking fellow, seemed flustered by my presence. He is 40 years old and works as an electrician. He can make up to 15,000 baht (333 US Dollars) a month but must wait for his company to call him for a job. The family did not seem happy to have him around and, well, he was not at work on Monday at 2:30 pm.

Her oldest daughter (16) was armed with a basic English grammar book. She is currently attending high school and wants to be an airline stewardess or a tour guide after she finishes university. She was happy to practice speaking English with me and wants to be fluent someday. I flipped through her English book. The exercises were at an upper-intermediate level, but her spoken English was not as good.

She told me, “At school I have a Thai teacher for English class. We learn things like ‘break, broke, broken’. I know grammar, but I cannot speak English. I do not understand idioms.”

The younger daughter (13) was carrying bags of school supplies and clothes for the new school year. She could speak very little English and seemed more interested in trying on her new clothes and consuming soft drinks than anything else.

When I asked the family what they like to do for fun, I received the following answers: Boonfak: “I like to make money and sell things. I like my job.” Older daughter: “I like to read.” Younger daughter: “Eating.” Father: “Jogging in the morning.” At this statement the oldest daughter yelled out: “My father likes to drink whiskey!” Shortly thereafter he drove off.

Boonfak and her husband are doing quite well for themselves considering the level of education they both have received. She attended school from age 7-9 and cannot read or write. She seemed embarrassed by this, especially when her daughters started laughing about it. Her husband went to school from age 7-11 and says that he can read and write. The parents plan for both of their daughters to go to university after they finish high school.

Boonfak is a friendly and open woman. She states, “I like foreigners. I wish I could talk to you more but I cannot speak English. I see you everyday. When are you going back to America?” I told her that I did not know, but I enjoy living in Thailand.

Boonfak has good business sense. Whenever possible, she pays cash for purchases rather than buying on credit. The vending cart and family motorcycle were both cash purchases. Selling doughnuts is also a new idea. I believe that if given the chance, Boonfak’s business will expand over time. If everything goes well and her husband works full-time, she can save about 4,000 baht (88.80 US Dollars) each month in my estimate.

She has found herself a good corner to sell on and I do not see her giving up this spot in the future. Boonfak has no plans to change her job. If she could change anything, I believe she would change her husband.

There is an open fascination with death in Thailand. Specialised magazines cater to on-the-spot photographs and articles detailing the most gruesome crimes and accidents. Photographs that would only be seen by a coroner often make the front page of the local newspapers. There are also companies in Bangkok that specialize in collecting the dead from accident scenes. And at the same time everyone is terrified of ghosts.

Yours truly just spent a pleasant afternoon at The Museum of Forensic Medicine. This adventure is not recommended for those who are weak in the stomach but was one of the most interesting things I have done lately.

I tried to convince some Thai friends to go with me. One said, “No way. I won’t be able to sleep at all if I go.” The other said, “I will go with you but I will wait outside. There will be too many ghosts in there.” I made the trip alone. I am sure they thought I was nuts.

The Museum of Forensic Medicine sits nestled in the gigantic mazes of Siriraj Hospital in Bangkok. I had major difficulties reaching my destination. I accidentally ended up touring the emergency room. About 27 patients in outdated stretchers with gigantic wheels were waiting to be admitted. After somehow walking through the cardiac and nephrology departments, past the prescription pick-up counter, and accidentally back out onto the street, I finally reached the museum. Up the stairs I went.

It was four times more gruesome than I expected. My roommate in college was a medical student and I used to check out the cadaver she was working on with no problem. I have been to my fair share of open casket venues. I have seen car accident victims. The Museum of Forensic Science topped them all. I started to wonder if eating lunch before my arrival was such a good idea.

Skeletons, mummified bodies, the bloody shirts of stab wound victims, ropes used in hangings, preserved body parts and deformed children, autopsy kits, amputated legs, bones, teeth, preserved skin with tattoos, bullet casings, and bloody knives cluttered the shelves. There was also a collection of gruesome photographs showing shootings, stabbings, overdoses, suicides, and accidental electrocutions. A variety of ruptured but preserved organs were also available for viewing.

Also on display was the mummified body of the notorious executed child abductor named Si Quey. He believed that eating children’s organs would grant him eternal life. He stood upright in a glass case with a metal pan under his feet to catch the dripping moisture. A black and white photograph of Si Quey while alive was attached to the side of the case. He looked deranged indeed.

Some people stared at the displays with fascination, others with disgust. Some got up very close while others kept their distance. The thing that struck me the most about the viewing audience was the fact that many parents had brought their children along. I counted 29 adults and 19 children in attendance. One drunkard was asleep on the bench.

I assumed that the parents had brought the children along as part of a religious upbringing. Buddhism teaches that life is impermanence. Monks often meditate with skeletons, corpses, or inside cremation ovens as part of their religious training. Nevertheless, it was uncanny to watch living children gazing at dead children.

Four monks, one nun, and four tourists were also part of the crowd. I asked one of the tourists what he thought of the place and he stated, “I was not expecting to see so many dead babies! Yuck!” As for me, I was expecting to be the only one there. I surprised myself and decided not to take any pictures.

I talked to several Thai people about my shock at seeing so many children at the museum. One friend told me, “Oh yes. My parents brought me to that museum when I was a child. It is not about Buddhism or a religious lesson. Parents like to tell children really scary stories. They do it to show you what can happen if you are a bad girl, if you talk to strangers, or if you do not come home on time. The parents bring you there so that you will behave. I could not sleep for six months after going there.” The following day everyone did in fact ask me if I was able to sleep after my visit. I was.

When I think back on the experience, it was not The Forensic Museum that was the most interesting or disturbing. It was my accidental tour of the hospital itself. It did not seem sterile and it definitely was not quiet, hidden, or somber. The living walked past the dying. The line to the emergency room grew longer and looked more and more desperate. No one fussed and no one screamed. Children played. People snacked. Illness was on the most public display I have yet to see. The most gruesome sights simply went wheeling by me in the hallways.

Charlie sells furniture. I stumbled upon his shop when I first moved to Bangkok and was looking for some things for my house. Although his store may look small from the road, it is actually a four-story warehouse chock full of beds, tables, chairs, couches, desks, sinks, kitchen cabinets, and dish and clothing racks.

Charlie is a businessman through and through. When I asked him if he was willing to do this interview he stated, “Will you advertise for me?” He later changed his mind about this idea. Charlie was happy about having company to talk to. He invited me inside and brought me a glass of water.

We sat in Charlie’s large air-conditioned office talking. A gigantic television filled one wall and his desk was neck deep in paperwork. The floor was strewn with children’s toys, all belonging to his nephew. Charlie lived in America for 22 years. He has a BBA and an MBA and studied in both Texas and New York City. Charlie took down his diplomas, dusted them off, and showed them to me with pride.

He bought his warehouse ten years ago. It also serves as his residence. He has one big room upstairs with three small bedrooms attached to it. He is married and has no children. He is in his mid-fifties. When asked how much his mortgage is, he changed the figures several times. When asked how many employees he has, he stated, “I do not want to talk about any of this. I will have problems with my taxes.” According to Charlie he can make 0-5,000 baht (0-111 US Dollars) in one day from his wholesale and retail business.

Charlie is a talkative guy, except when it comes to finances. He told me about his businesses over the years. “While I was in school I opened up a Middle East sandwich shop. After this I opened up a Thai restaurant with a friend as a business partner. Then I became a grocery wholesaler. I delivered food to local restaurants. I did not just go to school. I worked.”

Somewhere along the way Charlie also managed to win the New Jersey State Lottery. He showed me his ‘50 Grand Club’ plaque and said, “I had to pay over 50 percent tax on my winnings!” Still, 25,000 US Dollars in the 1970s is a nice sum of money.

Charlie decided to seek more fortune by returning to Thailand in 1991. He stated, “I came back to Thailand because business was booming. I wanted to go into real estate. Then the economy collapsed. I went into the furniture business instead. I sold my restaurant in New York and used the money to buy this business.”

Charlie has several political theses about what caused the financial collapse of Thailand, but they are too over my head to follow. He gets rather angry just talking about it and hopes that the present government will bring improvements in Thailand’s failing economy.

I asked Charlie if he had been back to the United States. He said, “No, but my wife went twice. I have no time. I have to work every day for ten or eleven hours. Business is very bad, but I keep going and hope things will get better.”

Charlie is a big fan of America. When asked the major differences between the two countries, Charlie stated, “In America everything is convenient. It is a rich country. When I lived in America I was not a US citizen but I had the same rights as Americans, except for voting. I have more rights in America because America has more democracy than Thailand. Here I cannot talk about the police. Thailand has too much poverty. It does not look good. Some areas are not safe.”

When asked if he was homesick while he lived in America, Charlie said, “No. I enjoyed living there. People were friendly and invited me to their homes. But I am happy to be back in Thailand.”

Charlie says the furniture he sells is for the poor people in his country. “Many people do not have refrigerators. Instead they use these cabinets. They put the legs of the cabinets in an insect repelling water to keep the bugs out. Only rich people can afford a modern kitchen or house.”

The average Thai kitchen definitely is not the version you see advertised on television. Simple wire shelves, a one-burner propane stove, and plastic storage units to keep the bugs out of dry food prevail. Forget dishwashers, garbage disposals, or even hot water most of the time.

Every day Charlie sits in his office watching television until a customer comes. He then goes out to argue about the price with the buyer. His employees load the goods onto the truck or into the car. Charlie takes the money, and goes back inside. His life certainly is not a bad one but Charlie doesn’t think that luck is not on his side. He planned to make a fortune back in his home country. Instead he simply gets by.

Charlie did not want his picture taken. I promised that the next time I need a pillow, blanket, bed, sink, or chair I would buy it from him. With so many furniture dealers clogging the streets, it remains to be seen if Charlie’s store will make it. If it does not, I expect that Charlie will be one very bitter man.