Life's a Trip: Chapter Two - City of Angels
December 22, 2006
I wake up at 8 am despite my recent lack of sleep. I don't want to waste a second of vacation time. There will be time to sleep when I return to the “normal life.”
My plan is to head into Sukhumvit to have two suits made and then spend the rest of the day seeing Bangkok. One of the tailors that I had been in contact with was supposed to send a taxi to bring me to his shop, but the taxi didn't show up. Instead I hail my own cab and make my way to the shop only to discover that it's not open yet.
I figure that I might as well use the time to get a coffee and some breakfast. I'll return to the shop to see if it's open in a little while. The next hour is spent worshipping the glorious god of caffeine at Starbucks.. I return to the tailor and they are still closed, but three foreigners are now standing in front of the shop looking quite confused.
“You guys have an appointment as well?”
“Yeah mate, don't know what's going on. What time was your appointment for?”
“10”
“Same with us...”
“Interesting...they were going to have four fittings at the same time...well, I'm gonna have a look around at some other shops and see what's open...good luck.”
“G'luck to you too mate.”
With that I begin to head down Sukhumvit road in search of a tailor. As I walked down the street I began to experience some Thai hospitality, Bangkok style... A dirty looking man approaches me and says to me, “Where are you from?” Without breaking stride I turn to him and say, “Canada.” Mistake number one. When confronted by a stranger in Thailand there are many diplomatic tactics for evasion. Here are a few of my favourites:
Tactic one: This one is the simplest. Pick a language that the person is not likely to speak or string together some sounds that have absolutely no meaning. Your sidekick will quickly assess that he won't be able to turn your interaction into a transaction and he'll move on the next passer-by.
I often used French to make it through the crowded markets, but once in a while the vendors would understand and reply en francais. At this point I'd have to confess that I simply wasn't interested in buying anything. So be warned, Thai merchants are exceptionally resourceful. They'll do anything, including learning a language, to give themselves an edge on the competition.
Tactic two: Pick a country that no one is likely to know about and do your best to kill the conversation. For instance:
Man on the street: “Where are you from?”
You: “Brunei.”
Man on the street: “Where is that?”
You: “42 degrees latitude and 24 degrees longitude.”
After the last syllable leaves your lips, smile as wide as you can manage, turn your face forward and walk away. Congratulations. You played the game and won, the next ten seconds of your life belong to you now...use them carefully.
Tactic Three: This one actually became my favourite after a little bit of practice. It's not always an easy out, but sometimes it's quicker than the preceding two tactics. It is centered around the Thai smile.
Thai people always smile. It's the staple of con-men and women across the country. They use it as a distraction while they force you to do something that you don't want to do. You can't be a jerk to someone who's smiling right? They're only trying to help, right? Wrong. Tactic three reclaims this powerful expression and uses it to deliver a message.
Let's replay our scenario.
Man on the street: “Where are you from?”
You: “Thailand”
(Insert beaming smile. The type of smile that says, I've heard this a million times before and I'm not interested in any services or products that you are about to try to sell me. The smile should also say, “I'm not going to be rude about this, but if you continue to ask me questions I'll continue to blatantly lie to you so you might as well give up now.”)
Man on the street: (laughing) “No you're not”
You: “Yes I am. I'm from (name a location and smile again).”
(If you know a Thai city, you can name it here. If not you can simply say the name of the city that you're presently in or you can use any city name or random word. The more absurd you are, the quicker your interaction will end.)
Man on the street: “Do you speak Thai?”
(Instead of asking whether you speak Thai, they may just begin speaking in Thai. This is where things get fun because you've now broken them out of their script and things get a little spontaneous.)
From here you control the interaction and the initiator is dragged along for the ride. They may try to escape the conversation, but you can always keep it going. Try following them down the street asking them for more and more personal information.
I thoroughly enjoyed telling one man that I was fluent in Thai because I was born in Thailand and that the language which he was speaking was not Thai. I told him that it sounded Scandinavian. The look on his face was priceless.
I told a different guy that even though I was born and raised in Thailand I couldn't speak Thai because I had an allergic reaction to bamboo chutes when I was six years old and the reaction had destroyed the part of my brain that contains knowledge of the Thai language. I proceeded to tell him that I was tragically forced to learn English, the next most popular language in Thailand. I couldn't even have a conversation with my family because they didn't understand what I was saying. I told him that I had finally made my way into the city where more people spoke English but I had no money because the trip was so long and expensive. I then proceeded to follow him down the street asking for money. Priceless.
Let's return to the conversation with the tuk tuk driver.
“Where are you from?”
“Canada.”
“Toronto or Vancouver?”
So he's heard of Canada before...“Toronto.”
And with that, they have you. Your pace slows to a halt and they see their chance to begin their pitch. “Toronto...hmmm...I've never been there, but I've been to Vancouver about 6 years ago.” Unless every tuk-tuk driver in Bangkok made a pilgrimage to Vancouver six years ago, this is a lie. “Where are you going now?” “I'm just walking down the street doing some shopping.” Mistake number two. Never tell a tuk-tuk driver or other “public servant” what you're doing. Undoubtedly they will offer to “help” you to achieve your objectives until you part ways on less than amicable terms. In this case the tuk-tuk driver offered to take me on a tour of the city, which included stops at a suit wholesaler and a jewel market. I told him that I just wanted to walk around for a while to see the city by foot and that I might be back later in the event that I finished shopping and still had time for a tour. This didn't sit well with him, so he flipped out at me. I just smiled at him and walked away as he hurled insults at me. Welcome to Bangkok.
Bangkok street vendors
Sukhumvit traffic
I walked the streets of Sukhumvit for quite some time before I found the place where I would eventually have two suits made: World Famous Boss Tailors. I spent a great deal of time liesurely selecting fabrics for the suits and shirts, talking with the tailors and drinking beer. What a life I lead!
I took care of all the details at the suit shop and asked Peter, one of the young tailors, to find me a metered cab to the royal palace. Within a few minutes I'm sitting in the back of a cab and the meter is running. I should have known it was too good to be true. As we traverse the rush-hour gridlock my driver turns to me and says,
“You need jewels?”
“No.”
“I know good place. I make you a deal. You go into the shop and look for 15 minutes. They give me a gas ticket for 300 baht. I only charge you 80 baht for ride. Come on man, good for me, good for you. You don't need buy anything.”
“No. If you take me anywhere except directly to the Grand Palace, then I'm not paying you.”
“Come on man. 15 minutes.”
“You know what I'll just find another cab. I don't want to buy jewels.”
“Fine, then get the f*$% out.”
With that he slams the car to a halt in the middle lane of traffic and stares at me until I open the door and get out of the cab. Nice. Bangkok is beginning to test my patience. I stand on the side of the road hailing cab after cab.
“Will you give me a metered fare to the Royal Palace?”
“It's rush hour man, 250 baht.”
“No way man, meter only.”
“No taxi.”
Finally, after about ten minutes of trying a hopeful looking man in a blue cab pulls up.
“Will you give me a metered fare to the Royal Palace?”
“Yes”
“No stops?”
“Hahaha...no stops”
I get in and we pull away. For the next hour and a half Mr. Chen would challenge my perception of taxi-drivers as a social group and redefine my experience of Bangkok.
I tell Mr. Chen about my experience with my previous taxi driver. He laughs and tells me that he often offers various “products and services” to his customers, but assures me that he won't ask me because I'm clearly not interested. He then breaks into the typical taxi driver dialogue, asking me where I come from. I reply and return the gesture, asking if he is originally from Bangkok or if he hails from somewhere else. This is where things started to get interesting.
I discover that Mr. Chen is originally from Burma but he immigrated to Bangkok in order to make more money. His income is modest and his contract states that he is not permitted to leave Bangkok. Not such a great life. I also find out that he was a Buddhist monk for eight years when he was a child and that he still practices mindfulness in daily life, even though he is no longer a monk.
As we talk we reveal the biases of our cultures. I, the opportunist and Mr Chen the fatalist. He perplexes himself over the karmic actions that have brought him to his present circumstances, while I stress the importance of present and future actions as a means for improving our lives. It seems natural for each of us to occupy these mindsets. Mr. Chen leads a tough life. He isn't a bad man, yet bad things happen to him. This makes him wonder why he deserves his life. On the other hand, I've had a great life filled with wonderful circumstances and kind people. I haven't done anything in particular to deserve my life, yet I somehow come out on top.
It's times like these that you stop for a moment and genuinely consider your place in the world. Some search for reason in the randomness, while others simply take things as it comes. It's funny how those who are less fortunate ask the tough “why” questions, while those of us who have the world at our fingertips never stop to ask the questions that would lead us to truly appreciate what we have.
Over the course of our encounter I speak earnestly with Mr. Chen and I feel as though he is doing the same with me. I encourage him to use his english language ability to develop an additional source of income. He has never put much thought into the idea and genuinely doubts his ability. I try to instil confidence in him and offer him my email address so that I can email him teaching materials as a starting point for his new venture.
As we arrive at the Royal Palace, I tell Mr. Chen that it was a pleasure to meet him and he returns the sentiments. I reach for my wallet, prepared to offer him a generous tip, but he stops me and refuses payment altogether. It's quite a gesture on his part. With a beaming smile I wish him the best and shut the door. What a trip.
For the next few hours I wander around the outer grounds of the Royal Palace, which contain Wat Pho. It's absolutely majestic here, however there is a sense of tension. The soaring pagodas and glittering gold are juxtaposed with the pleas of poor merchants and the sales of trinkets. It's difficult to put into words how these worlds could even conceivably co-exist, yet they do.
Grounds of the Royal Palace
Royal Palace outer wall
Monk exodus
Wat Pho pagodas
Golden Buddha
The courtyard
Sundown at Wat Pho
Reclining Buddha
As I explore Wat Pho, I stumble upon a Buddhist ordination ceremony. A number of monks are being honoured as they move from one level of studies to next. I feel incredibly lucky to have stumbled into the ordination hall at just the right time.
The sun sets and I grab a taxi back to Sukhumvit in order to have my second fitting at World Famous Boss. Things go very well and I am happy with the progress of the suits.
Following the fitting, I return to my hotel for a bit rest. Half an hour later after arriving I'm back out the door, headed for the Patpong night market. I find a place that serves Strongbow and savour a few as I watch people stream through the market. It's nice to be a static observer for a little while. Bangkok has a habit of constantly making you feel like the center of attention because everyone wants something from you.
I settle the bill and venture into the market. It's crawling with vendors who offer various sorts of wares, but curiously, all the shoe vendors have the same shoes, all of the perfume vendors have the same perfumes and all of the souvenir vendors have the same souvenirs. After a short while of walking you feel like you've seen it all. But then, you reach the end of the street and you're confronted by a new breed of salesperson. These people want you to come into their club to see a live sex show (or “Ping Pong show”). They follow you down the street explaining what you'll see and it's assuredly enough to make you walk a little bit faster.
Eventually exhaustion set in and I looked at my watch to discover that it was close to 3:00 am. I have to be up at 4:00 am to leave for Phuket tomorrow morning. I sense disaster...
I wake up at 8 am despite my recent lack of sleep. I don't want to waste a second of vacation time. There will be time to sleep when I return to the “normal life.”
My plan is to head into Sukhumvit to have two suits made and then spend the rest of the day seeing Bangkok. One of the tailors that I had been in contact with was supposed to send a taxi to bring me to his shop, but the taxi didn't show up. Instead I hail my own cab and make my way to the shop only to discover that it's not open yet.
I figure that I might as well use the time to get a coffee and some breakfast. I'll return to the shop to see if it's open in a little while. The next hour is spent worshipping the glorious god of caffeine at Starbucks.. I return to the tailor and they are still closed, but three foreigners are now standing in front of the shop looking quite confused.
“You guys have an appointment as well?”
“Yeah mate, don't know what's going on. What time was your appointment for?”
“10”
“Same with us...”
“Interesting...they were going to have four fittings at the same time...well, I'm gonna have a look around at some other shops and see what's open...good luck.”
“G'luck to you too mate.”
With that I begin to head down Sukhumvit road in search of a tailor. As I walked down the street I began to experience some Thai hospitality, Bangkok style... A dirty looking man approaches me and says to me, “Where are you from?” Without breaking stride I turn to him and say, “Canada.” Mistake number one. When confronted by a stranger in Thailand there are many diplomatic tactics for evasion. Here are a few of my favourites:
Tactic one: This one is the simplest. Pick a language that the person is not likely to speak or string together some sounds that have absolutely no meaning. Your sidekick will quickly assess that he won't be able to turn your interaction into a transaction and he'll move on the next passer-by.
I often used French to make it through the crowded markets, but once in a while the vendors would understand and reply en francais. At this point I'd have to confess that I simply wasn't interested in buying anything. So be warned, Thai merchants are exceptionally resourceful. They'll do anything, including learning a language, to give themselves an edge on the competition.
Tactic two: Pick a country that no one is likely to know about and do your best to kill the conversation. For instance:
Man on the street: “Where are you from?”
You: “Brunei.”
Man on the street: “Where is that?”
You: “42 degrees latitude and 24 degrees longitude.”
After the last syllable leaves your lips, smile as wide as you can manage, turn your face forward and walk away. Congratulations. You played the game and won, the next ten seconds of your life belong to you now...use them carefully.
Tactic Three: This one actually became my favourite after a little bit of practice. It's not always an easy out, but sometimes it's quicker than the preceding two tactics. It is centered around the Thai smile.
Thai people always smile. It's the staple of con-men and women across the country. They use it as a distraction while they force you to do something that you don't want to do. You can't be a jerk to someone who's smiling right? They're only trying to help, right? Wrong. Tactic three reclaims this powerful expression and uses it to deliver a message.
Let's replay our scenario.
Man on the street: “Where are you from?”
You: “Thailand”
(Insert beaming smile. The type of smile that says, I've heard this a million times before and I'm not interested in any services or products that you are about to try to sell me. The smile should also say, “I'm not going to be rude about this, but if you continue to ask me questions I'll continue to blatantly lie to you so you might as well give up now.”)
Man on the street: (laughing) “No you're not”
You: “Yes I am. I'm from (name a location and smile again).”
(If you know a Thai city, you can name it here. If not you can simply say the name of the city that you're presently in or you can use any city name or random word. The more absurd you are, the quicker your interaction will end.)
Man on the street: “Do you speak Thai?”
(Instead of asking whether you speak Thai, they may just begin speaking in Thai. This is where things get fun because you've now broken them out of their script and things get a little spontaneous.)
From here you control the interaction and the initiator is dragged along for the ride. They may try to escape the conversation, but you can always keep it going. Try following them down the street asking them for more and more personal information.
I thoroughly enjoyed telling one man that I was fluent in Thai because I was born in Thailand and that the language which he was speaking was not Thai. I told him that it sounded Scandinavian. The look on his face was priceless.
I told a different guy that even though I was born and raised in Thailand I couldn't speak Thai because I had an allergic reaction to bamboo chutes when I was six years old and the reaction had destroyed the part of my brain that contains knowledge of the Thai language. I proceeded to tell him that I was tragically forced to learn English, the next most popular language in Thailand. I couldn't even have a conversation with my family because they didn't understand what I was saying. I told him that I had finally made my way into the city where more people spoke English but I had no money because the trip was so long and expensive. I then proceeded to follow him down the street asking for money. Priceless.
Let's return to the conversation with the tuk tuk driver.
“Where are you from?”
“Canada.”
“Toronto or Vancouver?”
So he's heard of Canada before...“Toronto.”
And with that, they have you. Your pace slows to a halt and they see their chance to begin their pitch. “Toronto...hmmm...I've never been there, but I've been to Vancouver about 6 years ago.” Unless every tuk-tuk driver in Bangkok made a pilgrimage to Vancouver six years ago, this is a lie. “Where are you going now?” “I'm just walking down the street doing some shopping.” Mistake number two. Never tell a tuk-tuk driver or other “public servant” what you're doing. Undoubtedly they will offer to “help” you to achieve your objectives until you part ways on less than amicable terms. In this case the tuk-tuk driver offered to take me on a tour of the city, which included stops at a suit wholesaler and a jewel market. I told him that I just wanted to walk around for a while to see the city by foot and that I might be back later in the event that I finished shopping and still had time for a tour. This didn't sit well with him, so he flipped out at me. I just smiled at him and walked away as he hurled insults at me. Welcome to Bangkok.
Bangkok street vendors
Sukhumvit traffic
I walked the streets of Sukhumvit for quite some time before I found the place where I would eventually have two suits made: World Famous Boss Tailors. I spent a great deal of time liesurely selecting fabrics for the suits and shirts, talking with the tailors and drinking beer. What a life I lead!
I took care of all the details at the suit shop and asked Peter, one of the young tailors, to find me a metered cab to the royal palace. Within a few minutes I'm sitting in the back of a cab and the meter is running. I should have known it was too good to be true. As we traverse the rush-hour gridlock my driver turns to me and says,
“You need jewels?”
“No.”
“I know good place. I make you a deal. You go into the shop and look for 15 minutes. They give me a gas ticket for 300 baht. I only charge you 80 baht for ride. Come on man, good for me, good for you. You don't need buy anything.”
“No. If you take me anywhere except directly to the Grand Palace, then I'm not paying you.”
“Come on man. 15 minutes.”
“You know what I'll just find another cab. I don't want to buy jewels.”
“Fine, then get the f*$% out.”
With that he slams the car to a halt in the middle lane of traffic and stares at me until I open the door and get out of the cab. Nice. Bangkok is beginning to test my patience. I stand on the side of the road hailing cab after cab.
“Will you give me a metered fare to the Royal Palace?”
“It's rush hour man, 250 baht.”
“No way man, meter only.”
“No taxi.”
Finally, after about ten minutes of trying a hopeful looking man in a blue cab pulls up.
“Will you give me a metered fare to the Royal Palace?”
“Yes”
“No stops?”
“Hahaha...no stops”
I get in and we pull away. For the next hour and a half Mr. Chen would challenge my perception of taxi-drivers as a social group and redefine my experience of Bangkok.
I tell Mr. Chen about my experience with my previous taxi driver. He laughs and tells me that he often offers various “products and services” to his customers, but assures me that he won't ask me because I'm clearly not interested. He then breaks into the typical taxi driver dialogue, asking me where I come from. I reply and return the gesture, asking if he is originally from Bangkok or if he hails from somewhere else. This is where things started to get interesting.
I discover that Mr. Chen is originally from Burma but he immigrated to Bangkok in order to make more money. His income is modest and his contract states that he is not permitted to leave Bangkok. Not such a great life. I also find out that he was a Buddhist monk for eight years when he was a child and that he still practices mindfulness in daily life, even though he is no longer a monk.
As we talk we reveal the biases of our cultures. I, the opportunist and Mr Chen the fatalist. He perplexes himself over the karmic actions that have brought him to his present circumstances, while I stress the importance of present and future actions as a means for improving our lives. It seems natural for each of us to occupy these mindsets. Mr. Chen leads a tough life. He isn't a bad man, yet bad things happen to him. This makes him wonder why he deserves his life. On the other hand, I've had a great life filled with wonderful circumstances and kind people. I haven't done anything in particular to deserve my life, yet I somehow come out on top.
It's times like these that you stop for a moment and genuinely consider your place in the world. Some search for reason in the randomness, while others simply take things as it comes. It's funny how those who are less fortunate ask the tough “why” questions, while those of us who have the world at our fingertips never stop to ask the questions that would lead us to truly appreciate what we have.
Over the course of our encounter I speak earnestly with Mr. Chen and I feel as though he is doing the same with me. I encourage him to use his english language ability to develop an additional source of income. He has never put much thought into the idea and genuinely doubts his ability. I try to instil confidence in him and offer him my email address so that I can email him teaching materials as a starting point for his new venture.
As we arrive at the Royal Palace, I tell Mr. Chen that it was a pleasure to meet him and he returns the sentiments. I reach for my wallet, prepared to offer him a generous tip, but he stops me and refuses payment altogether. It's quite a gesture on his part. With a beaming smile I wish him the best and shut the door. What a trip.
For the next few hours I wander around the outer grounds of the Royal Palace, which contain Wat Pho. It's absolutely majestic here, however there is a sense of tension. The soaring pagodas and glittering gold are juxtaposed with the pleas of poor merchants and the sales of trinkets. It's difficult to put into words how these worlds could even conceivably co-exist, yet they do.
Grounds of the Royal Palace
Royal Palace outer wall
Monk exodus
Wat Pho pagodas
Golden Buddha
The courtyard
Sundown at Wat Pho
Reclining Buddha
As I explore Wat Pho, I stumble upon a Buddhist ordination ceremony. A number of monks are being honoured as they move from one level of studies to next. I feel incredibly lucky to have stumbled into the ordination hall at just the right time.
The sun sets and I grab a taxi back to Sukhumvit in order to have my second fitting at World Famous Boss. Things go very well and I am happy with the progress of the suits.
Following the fitting, I return to my hotel for a bit rest. Half an hour later after arriving I'm back out the door, headed for the Patpong night market. I find a place that serves Strongbow and savour a few as I watch people stream through the market. It's nice to be a static observer for a little while. Bangkok has a habit of constantly making you feel like the center of attention because everyone wants something from you.
I settle the bill and venture into the market. It's crawling with vendors who offer various sorts of wares, but curiously, all the shoe vendors have the same shoes, all of the perfume vendors have the same perfumes and all of the souvenir vendors have the same souvenirs. After a short while of walking you feel like you've seen it all. But then, you reach the end of the street and you're confronted by a new breed of salesperson. These people want you to come into their club to see a live sex show (or “Ping Pong show”). They follow you down the street explaining what you'll see and it's assuredly enough to make you walk a little bit faster.
Eventually exhaustion set in and I looked at my watch to discover that it was close to 3:00 am. I have to be up at 4:00 am to leave for Phuket tomorrow morning. I sense disaster...
posted by Christopher Janca at 5:50 a.m.
1 comments
