Postcards from Thailand

This morning I left early, around 6:30 a.m., to get to an hospital appointment. It’s not much fun taking nil by mouth from 8 p.m. the previous evening, so I like to let the vampire nurses drain my blood early in the day. Ten minutes later I found myself stationary. Two and a half hours later I’d not moved. There I was, hungry, thirsty and marooned in a sea of cars. What could possibly have caused this praeternatural chaos? It appears that the rain last night totally overwhelmed Bangkok’s drainage system; 44 areas of town were flooded. The one which was causing my own personal traffic hell was some 8 1/2 km away. I can only imagine the extent of the chaos behind me on the road.

According to Bangkok’s mayor, they can only handle 60 mm of rain, and last night more than 100 mm fell. This resulted in a major junction being flooded to the staggering depth of 10 cm. Quite why this should have totally immobilised traffic for several hours is a mystery. Why the police did so little (a.k.a. nothing) to redirect traffic is also a mystery.

Here’s a ‘photo from Thai Rath newspaper showing the offending flooded intersection:

“And the waters prevailed exceedingly upon the earth; and all the high hills, that were under the whole heaven, were covered.”

Genesis 7:19 – King James Version (1611)

The weather forecast is for more rain tonight.

Now, where can I find myself some gopher wood?

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Elephants are notionally banned from city streets – not that that stops them. (Perhaps they can’t read the signs.)

Unfortunately, the streets aren’t a safe place for a baby elephant, as the following picture shows:

He was eventually rescued unharmed.

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Though having left the UK for good I can’t fully escape the clutches of the UK tax man. Unfortunately, the services provided to non-residents are shoddy (at best). However, they seem to have hit a new low.

Some time ago I sent them a message asking whether or not they had received a form from me. The response included the phrases:

“acceptable levels of customer service while dealing with your enquiries”

and

“We aim to provide a reply within 15 working days”.

Needless to say, they didn’t reply within 15 working days. And when I eventually got a reply, it read:

“Unfortunately, i will not be able to advise you if we have received your claim. We currently have a delay of 14 weeks in processing the R43 forms. Hence, it will not be possible for me to look for your claim. If you have not heard anything in say two and a half months please contact us again.”

(And yes, note the lack of a capital “I”.)

So, it’s take four to five months simply for Hector to say whether or not he has received a form. Goodness knows how long I’ll have to wait to receive the money he owes me.

Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs? She should hang her head in shame.

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It’s important that one knows one’s place in society. To that end Thailand must have one of the more comprehensive system of titles. The following is vastly simplified.

At the top of society is HM The King and his wife, and then his children who bear the title Jao Faa (เจ้าฟ้า).

The grandchildren of a King can bear the title Phra Ong Jao (พระองค์เจ้า).

The next generation: Mom Jao (หม่อมเจ้า).

And then: Mom Raatchawong (หม่อมราชวงศ์).

And finally, at the 5th generation, Mom Luang (หม่อมหลวง).

The child of a Mom Luang is a commoner, but can append “Na Ayutthaya” (ณ อยุธยา) to his surname to indicate royal descent.

Thus, for example, one knows that a former Prime Minister, M.R. Kukrit Pramoj, (M.R. being Mom Raatchawong), was a fourth generation descendant of one of the Kings of Thailand (in his case, King Rama II).

Before the 1932 revolution there were a lot of other titles designating aristocracy, but all were abolished, except for two titles for women – Khunying (คุณหญิง) and Thaanphuuying (ท่านผู้หญิง) – both of which are non-hereditary. However, rather than honouring the woman’s achievements they usually honour her husband. Thus the Prime Minister’s wife will usually become a Khunying (provided her husband stay in office long enough!). The wives of the top members of the military are similarly honoured. Such an honour is apparently not available for the wives of the country’s greatest scientists, academics, sportsmen, writers et al.. It seems that only the wife of a military man has the necessary aristocratic credentials.

The Police and the Military have a host of other titles but, unlike in other countries, the titles are kept after leaving service, so the newspapers still refer to Police Lieutenant Colonel Thaksin Shinawatra, even though he quit the police force more than 22 years ago. This isn’t a particularly high rank, but the question of its being stripped on account of his alleged behaviour remains very controversial.

Every interchange in Thailand requires a conscious decision about the relative status of speaker and listener. It dictates the choice of every pronoun. Am I superior or inferior to the person to whom I’m speaking?

When Indonesia was seeking a language to unite its speakers of a myriad of mutually unintelligible languages it considered Javanese, which had the greatest number of native speakers. However, it rejected Javanese because it has a system of pronouns which denotes relative status. It chose a language which was more democratic, Malay, despite the lack of native speakers. Thus, just as the English language united the Indian subcontinent, so Bahasa Indonesia (as it became to be known) united the Indonesian archipeligo.

Much as we in the West reinforce sexual roles by selecting “he” or “she”, “his” or “her”, in Thailand the language reinforces social status and perhaps, just perhaps, is part of a barrier against social mobility and against social equality.

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I missed a perhaps more famous swine quotation – also from the Bible:

“Geve not that which is holy to dogges nether cast ye youre pearles before swyne lest they treade them vnder their fete and ye other tourne agayne and all to rent you.”

– Matthew 7:6, Tyndale translation (1526)

I’m reminded of the anecdote (probably apocryphal) of an encounter between Dorothy Parker and Clare Booth Luce. Meeting outside the entrance to a party, the younger and much more beautiful Luce stepped aside and invited Parker in saying “Age before beauty”.

Parker swept past saying sweetly “Pearls before swine”.

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On hearing of a new influenza variant that combines aspects of both avian and porcine viruses I was pleased to conclude that pigs really can fly.

Now, after a few hours, it seems that the media are referring to this new variant as “Swine Flu”, and I’m left wondering if there are also “Cad” and “Bounder” types.

The use of the word “swine” seems a little strange to me. Apart from the pejorative use of the term, the word has virtually vanished from the English language – except, perhaps, for the term “Gadarene swine” – which smacks more of the English of Tyndale than of the current era:

Then ye devyles besought him [Iesus] sayinge: if thou cast vs out suffre vs to go oure waye in to the heerd of swyne.

And he sayd vnto the: go youre wayes. Then wet they out and departed into ye heerd of swyne And beholde ye whoale heerd of swyne was caryed wt violence hedlinge in to the see and perisshed in ye water.

Then ye heerdme fleed and wet their ways in to ye cyte and tolde every thinge and what had fortuned vnto the possessed of the devyls.

– Matthew 8:31-33, Tyndale translation (1526)

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“‘Tis the season to be jolly.”

In compliance with this strict direction I have had a couple of memorable meals in the last week. The first was dinner on Christmas day itself. I went to an Italian restaurant in Bangkok. (Actually, the restaurant calls itself “Tuscan” – but none of the dishes featured tusks. In fact, there wasn’t even elephant on the menu at all.)

Anyway, vegetarian readers should stop reading here.

We shared starters. There was a sort of fishy tasting plate, with swordfish carpaccio, prawns wrapped in prosciutto, crab salad served in a scallop shell, the scallop itself, and a thin slice of a cheesy/fishy mousse wrapped in smoked salmon. And there was a mixture of mussels and clams cooked in a garlicky fresh tomato sauce.

And animal-rights activists should stop reading here.

My main course was a couple of lamb chop stuffed with foie gras* and a chunk of black truffle, bread crumbed with almond bread and then pan fried, served on an intense red wine reduction and accompanied by the finest green beans I’ve ever seen, tossed in garlicky olive oil and some fairly nondescript baby potatoes cooked I know not how. It was amazingly good.

And it would be sacrilege not to round off such a meal with a pudding. I settled for the profiteroles stuffed with custard cream and topped with an intense, bitter chocolate sauce.

It was pricey (about GBP 40 a head, including two glasses of wine), but worth every last penny.

My other memorable meal was my usual Christmas lunch, though I no longer make this on Christmas day since most of my friends are working. So, yesterday I had a busy morning cooking. To start with I made some canapés. Nothing fancy: a smear of pâté topped with thin slivers of gherkin; a similar smear of cream cheese topped with a thin roll of smoked salmon; and chopped cherry tomatoes with garlic, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Of course, nothing less than fizzy white wine was needed to accompany these appetisers.

(In Thailand it’s common practice to photograph each course of a special meal, then to post your photographs on a blog or bulletin board.  Unfortunately, in the frenzy of cooking I failed to take any more photos.)

The main course was roast shoulder of lamb. Lamb is a rarity in Thailand and, of my four Thai guests only one had tried it before. However, they all appreciated it; every plate was cleared. I served it with buttered carrots, mashed potatoes (a Thai favourite, which is served at KFC), mint sauce (using my home grown mint!) and gravy (also served at KFC).

The pudding was, if I may say so, a tour-de-force. A friend of mine, G., wanted to make molten chocolate cakes. We watched in trepidation as they cooked in the oven. To accompany them I had made some crystallised ginger which I served up as crystallised ginger ice-cream and meringues filled with whipped cream mixed with crystallised ginger. A few slices of fresh banana completed each plate.

My first batch of meringues, to be honest, wasn’t 100% a success. They tasted great, but the shapes weren’t as good as they should be, and because I used unbleached sugar they were brown. They quickly acquired the moniker of “poo cakes”. A second batch made late on Saturday was somewhat more attractive, and it was these that I served to my guests.

It was good to mark the time of year with two most memorable meals.

*Those who would take away our choice to eat foie gras are apparently ignorant of goose and duck anatomy. The birds don’t choke whilst being fed because their wind pipe’s entrance is under their tongues. And the feeding tube doesn’t hurt them because they have a very tough lining to their gullets. (After all, they naturally eat fish, sharp spines and fins intact.) And finally, the actual feeding process is a matter of seconds, rather than the prolonged torture that certain fanatics would have one believe.

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The tourist business here is suffering badly. At what is peak season, when hotel rooms would normally be about 75% full, a mere 25% of rooms are occupied. The situation for 5* hotels is even worse, with some establishments having occupancy rates of as little as 6%. Curiously, the Tourism Authority of Thailand (TAT) has just stopped publishing statistics for tourist arrivals in the country. Perhaps they don’t want people to know just how bad things are, and just what a failure their various promotional campaigns are.

Anyway, I thought it my duty to help boost the tourism industry and booked myself into a 5* hotel in Uthai Thani (2 ½ hours drive north of here) for the weekend.

Well, I thought it was a 5* hotel, and from the outside it looked suitably imposing:

(At least, it would impress members of the Third Reich.)

The lobby was similarly grand. I almost wished they have a travellator from the front door to reception.

However, the place was almost deserted. The main restaurant was closed, there were no elephant rides, and the sports facilities looked as if they’d been abandoned some time ago.

I won’t go on about the failings of the place, apart to mention:

• the beds had foam mattresses (not sprung)
• there was only cold water at the bathroom sink
• the shower never got above lukewarm
• there were ancient cobwebs above the shower
• the front door didn’t fit properly, letting in insects
• no wardrobe or other hanging space for clothes
• the TV picture was grainy, and the selection of channels very limited
• there was only a small selection of soft drinks in the minibar; no alcoholic ones at all
• no kettle or facilities for making tea or coffee.

Oh, and the service in the restaurants was pretty abysmal.

Anyway, this area is not on the regular tourist trail, so the usual guides such as Lonely Planet were of no help. I therefore decided to rely upon the TAT website for local information. Big mistake.

TAT describes a beautiful botanical garden, just 5 km from the city centre. None of the receptionists at the hotel had heard of it, and it certainly wasn’t on any maps.

TAT enthuses about the ancient city of Uthai Thani, comparing it to Phanom Rung. Now, Phanom Rung is an amazing Khmer temple which I visited last year.

http://apostcardfromthailand.wordpress.com/2007/09/18/phanom-rung-and-prasat-meuang-tam/

The ruins of Uthai Thani are a little less impressive. To be honest, despite the signpost on the Asia Highway, I had trouble locating them. I asked a woman at a local market and she explained that they were in the rice fields I had passed, but were little more than bumps in the ground.

A short drive north, in Nakorn Sawan (City of Heaven) is the source of the Chao Phraya river – a river of almost mythical status in Thailand. Here two rivers (the Ping and the Nan) converge. One is muddy brown, the other a slate grey, as you may be able to see in the following ‘photo.

(I forgot my camera for this trip, so the ‘photos were taken with a mobile ‘phone – hence the poor quality.)

To be honest, I’d have thought that an heavenly city might have had a few more attractions.

My final misadventure was to drive for hours to the Cyber Falls. (Actually, that’s more like Sai Beu in Thai, but the cute name has rather stuck.) To get there one has to drive for a few kilometres along a rutted, single track mud path. (Four wheel drive recommended.) Then, when you arrive the guards want to extract 200 Baht from you if you have a pale face (but only 20 Baht if you’re Thai). I was able to negotiate that down to 100 Baht – only 5 times the Thai price, despite the fact that I live here and pay taxes. This sort of petty racism really spoils the experience of visiting Thailand’s national treasures for me.

Not that the waterfall was a national treasure. More a case of a stream meandering through some large boulders. Pleasant enough, but not worth the long drive there, and the even longer drive back to Ayutthaya.

Next time I get a sudden urge to support the Thai tourism industry I think I’ll just stay home.

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They call this place “The Land of Smiles”. Look at what I saw up in the sky a few moments ago …

That’s Jupiter, Venus and the Moon beaming over Thailand.

(And no, it’s not a Photoshop job.)

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Guess who I found in my garden this morning …

I believe it’s a Whip Snake, but I’m not sure which exact species. They live in trees and bushes and eat lizards and frogs. Whip Snakes are mildly venomous, with their fangs at the back of the mouth. Basically they chew on their prey to release the venom, which takes about 15 minutes to work. The venom allegedly isn’t fatal to humans, but I’m not proposing to test whether that’s true or not.

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