Nothing is as it seems

The picture is of Kobchai and my father on the morning of my father's departure.  Somehow, they seemed to have an understanding of each other.  Was it their age? Their life experiences?  I don't know, but it was interesting to watch. 

Nothing is as it seems.

This is a general rule I've learned about living here in Thailand.  While I am sure that this goes for many places in the world, I think the concept applies far more liberally here than other places I have been. 

Kobchai, the man who was Chris's driver since November, was arrested on, let's see, what day was it...Tuesday.  Chris was told on Monday that Kobchai was going to be reassigned to an office job and that a new driver would arrive Tuesday morning.  Kobchai was unhappy about this, and so was Chris, but what could they do?  On Tuesday, Chris calls to tell me that his new driver was awful (got lost on the way to work and doesn't speak any English and wasn't the best handler of the car) and that Kobchai called to ask for bail money.  He had been arrested and was asking for a large sum of Baht.  So, Chris called to tell me this, and then he had to stay at work late.  He got home around 1:15am---we were finished dinner around 2:30am.  It was quite a night!  At least he got home safely, AND, made it very clear to the car rental company that he was going to get in the car with that same driver again!  

On Wednesday morning, I met with my friend, Mair, who has been here for two years.  She is orignally from Wales, but she has lived overseas for 7 years as an International Teacher.  She is a true expatriate---with no intention of returning to Wales or the UK.  She has chosen to live her life overseas.  When I told her about Kobchai, she explained why he called Chris.  We are Farangs (pronounced Fallong and often muttered when you walk past people...more on this later) and Thai people in general believe that we are loaded with money.  And in reality, as I tried to explain to my father multiple times while he was here, compared to them, we are--every single one of us. (Again, as I shuttered when Dad counted out his numerous 1000 Baht bills he just took out of the ATM in open, I tried to encourage him to not do that...).  Mair told me about her time in South Africa teaching when the maid of the school came to her asking for money to help a family member (her grandmother, I think) who needed surgery.  The Headmaster explained to Mair that the maid had been part of the school for over 15 years and that the school would take care of her.  It is expected that anyone who works for a foreigner of European decent (collectively called Farang here in Thailand) will help the person out if they are in need.  

Kobchai called again yesterday asking Chris if he had another job for him.  He told the company (the car company) that we really liked Kobchai, but the company won't hire him back.  We feel weird about this situation---he was a great driver!  It is so unfortunate that he doesn't have a job right now!!  We have no idea if there was any truth in his charges, and it really isn't for us to get involved---it is so hard to not get involved.  Here, in a country where people can be imprisoned for saying the wrong thing (under "lese-majeste" laws and view this: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7836854.stm) my expatriate friends barely whisper things about the monarchy.  And no Thai person dares breathe a word not in favor.  It is an interesting environment in which to live...It is so difficult to sort out so many things here.

Tourist books call this place the "land of smiles," and it was interesting seeing my Dad really enjoy himself here.  He saw how friendly everyone was, and loved getting people to laugh and smile with him.  I, on the other hand, didn't feel the same thing.  Perhaps I'm growing jaded because I've been here longer.  I feel that the same rules apply here as other places I've lived---if you're nice to people, they are generally nice to you.  I think my father felt the positive attention he received because there are not as many attractive Farangs walking around Bangkok.  (I don't know if I will ever get comfortable around the site of a middle-aged Farang man with a younger Thai woman on his side).  When Dad and I went to the Floating Markets with Kobchai, people asked about Dad and I heard Kobchai reply, "He soldier."  Some men were yelling Farang out to us as we floated past.  Now, I've come to recognize when it is called out.

How can you tell what people think?  Where do you find clues to their intentions or the meanings behind actions and gestures?   

Nothing is as it seems.  That really seems true here.  I'm in this space between tourist and expatriate---not really fitting either one.  Here is a buddhist country where the animals near the Temples are dare not eaten, but there are animals who are held in captivity in "zoos" and farms---and are walking down the street to attract tourists.  When Dad was here, we went to the Crocodile Farm.  Mookda has been wanting to take me there for weeks and weeks.  Well, it was an experience.  Dad really liked it--he got to pet a rhinosaurous or hippopotamous, hold hands with a monkey, and get close to a few other animals.  

I, on the other hand, could not get over the sight of animals kept in cages.  You could tell that the farm was once far more popular than it is now---the signs were old, many of the cages 

were empty, and there were whole areas that were in disrepair.  

For a fee, you could get your picture up close and personal with a tiger, a mountain lion, and a chimpanzee in human clothes.  Each animal was shackled to the floor and on a short leash.  I cannot imagine them not being sedated.  The animals were mixed in with the arcade, the small children's rides, coca-cola machines, and other carnivalesque things.  One sign posted: Happy New Year 2007!  

The thing is, Moodka and her friend who came along, really, really liked this place.  There were schoolkids there---they each must have come as children and have fond memories of the place for I could not see someone enjoying the experience as an adult.  It reminded me, in concept, of my school trips where every kindergartener goes to the North Carolina Zoo in Raleigh.  I was fortunate enough to have my Senior Class trip to the very same zoo 12 years later.  (Fitting that I started and ended my NC education with a trip to the zoo!) 

How many zoos have a giftshop at the entrance filled with crocodile skin products---handbags, highheels, belts, and other "fine" crocodile goods?  The crocodiles were on top of each other in the pens.  Maybe they like close quarters.  

The whole trip was bizarre to me.  It is a great study in contrasts living here.  I am trying to see it with the local's eyes, but I do not know if that is possible.  Or if it is necessary.  Tourism is the main industry here, so everything that is "attractive" to tourists is exploited---animals, people, places.  No matter.  Because we are Farang, loaded with money and dying to spend it.