Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself....

This week I find myself in Madrid, the very pleasantly sunny capital of Spain. As I write these words, I am enjoying a very tasty 'desayuno' consisting of coffee, fresh orange juice and a bocadillero (which seems to be a very large chocolate bun) at a local cafeteria, restaurant and cervezeria that glories in the title of "El Restaurante Jordan Gala". Having spent a month shivering and quivering in the unseasonably cold UK (it's been the second coldest April on record, apparently), I decided that it would be expedient to set off on my peripatetic perambulations once more and head South for sunnier climes (as it happens, a heat wave hit Britain three days after I left - que sera...).
Madrid in the last week has enjoyed temperatures in the mid 20's centigrade, occasionally spiking to the low 30's if the local wall-mounted thermometers are anything to go by. These sort of temperatures just about qualify as pleasant for me these days – one becomes somewhat spoilt by the constant 35 plus of Thailand, a little too hot perhaps, especially when compared to the UK, but surprisingly easy to get used to.
The UK, at the time of writing, is caught up in an ongoing campaign prior to a referendum on remaining in the European Union. The actual vote is still nearly two months away, but the tactics employed by the remain campaign seem like an echo of those used to win the Scottish referendum of last year. At the time it was known as 'Project Fear', dire warnings of all the terrible consequences that would befall the Scots if they dared to leave the Union. The current EU campaign feels like deja vu all over again… every piece of bad economic news that emerges is blamed on the possibility of exit, or Brexit as it has become popularly known.

Unemployment was up last month – because of fears of a British exit apparently.
The growth figures were down last month – because of fears of a British exit.
The second coldest April on record – no doubt because of fears of a British exit…
We are told that house prices will drop, wars are more likely, the UK's security will be threatened, industry will suffer, prices in the shops will raise and every family will somehow be £4300 worse off by 2030 (a rather magical figure, as it turned out, produced by projecting figures that the treasury have rarely managed to get right over three months out to fourteen years, then using a completely fictitious method to calculate household income - et voila, £4300!).
 
It seems that anything and everything negative that happens in the UK at the moment is down to fears of a British exit from the EU. Oddly, the opposite effect seems never to be observed. Whenever good economic stories emerge no reference at all is then made to the possibility of Brexit being at the root. One wonders why?
At the start of the referendum process, and as someone quite pro-European, I was leaning towards the notion that staying in the EU was the better option. I was aware of the relatively peaceful state of affairs since the inception of the Common Market and was inclined to believe that at least some of that peace and prosperity was down to the sharing of the economic interests of the central European powers.
Unfortunately, the more I looked into the matter, the more I realised that the EU is an institution that stands for almost everything that I perceive as being at the root of the problems that plague our World today. One of the most egregious of these is the pernicious effects of globalisation, the process whereby fewer and fewer multi-national companies come to dominate the World's economy, usually undercutting and ruining local communities and small businesses in the process.
Two days ago, I spent a delightfully sunny afternoon in the centre of Madrid. I alighted from the metro at Banca de Espana and made my way up to the Calle de las Infantas. I found this narrow street to be thoroughly charming. I had gone in search of a local shop that specialised in juggling equipment (unfortunately closed recently – yet another victim of the process it seems), but found numerous small and very colourful shops, each unique, each very individual and very Spanish in character. I spent nearly an hour wandering in flaneurial fashion from shop to shop enjoy the imaginative décor, the shop windows and the goods on offer. For someone such as myself, well disposed to strolling through the World's more interesting cities, this was a pleasant experience indeed.

Unfortunately, it did not last long. Pretty soon I was in the Calle del Clavel, leading down to the Gran Via. This pedestrianised area was packed with the likes of Nike, New Balance, Starbucks and various other American based multi-nationals selling exactly the same stuff as they do in Hong Kong, Beijing, Bangkok, London, Paris or New York. The type of corporation that turns you from being a customer into being a consumer. The type of corporation that is killing local business everywhere. The type of corporation that pays rock-bottom rates to their staff and their suppliers, whilst at the same time avoiding tax whenever and wherever possible. Given their influence in the seats of government and in the EU, barely ever are they brought to book for their nefarious practices. All this results in an enormous competitive advantage which makes it nigh on impossible for small, locally run business, paying their fair share of tax and their employees a reasonable wage, to compete.
Small, as E.F. Schumacher pointed out in his 1973 book, is indeed beautiful. It is also somewhat more fragile, especially when opposed by the power of multi nationals backed by the might of trading blocks such as NAFTA and the EU. Such blocks reach well beyond government, well beyond the democratic process to impose their standardised, homogenised, de-individualised World upon us all. 

 
Such trading blocks are little influenced by notions of social responsibility or democracy. They are there to be lobbied by corporations and multi-nationals, often to the mutual benefit of the corporations and the likes of the EU Commissioners. As regards the EU itself, it is interesting to note,that the most powerful part is not the parliament, but the totally non-elected Commission. The politicians come and go, but the all-powerful Commission remains, unreachable, untouchable, unchangeable by the electorate, yet lobbied (often a euphemism in itself) and influenced by big business and the forces of globalisation.
This lack of accountability of the EU Commission is one aspect of the so called 'democratic deficit'. There is lip service to the needs of society, but when it push comes to shove (think Greece, Spain, Italy, Ireland and Portugal) it is the needs of the financiers, of the banks, of the corporations that are catered for, no matter how severe the effects of the austerity imposed on these countries are. In effect, what we have is a massive transfer of money from national governments and tax payers into the hands of corporations. The EU itself is at the very heart of this process.

Back in the Jordan Gala, I find myself enjoying the very sociable atmosphere  and the general conviviality of the place. The Spanish, fortunately, seem to have lost little of their appetite for good living, for enjoying themselves, for friendliness, despite suffering for years now under the cosh of austerity imposed via the EU. The effects in the smaller suburbs of Madrid are all too readily apparent; high rates of unemployment, buildings in need of repair, streets needing to be cleaned. Beneath this though, and despite the ravages of draconian and ineffective austerity, the spirit of the people shines through. Spain, like the UK, like many countries in Europe, needs to free itself from the shackles imposed by the EU or face ever more austerity and ever steeper decline in living standards for all but the select few.
 

Heaven Help Us...

The mercury is rising at an alarming rate here in Kanchanaburi in recent weeks. We are reaching that time of year when the hours between one and five are best spent in some place that has air-conditioning as part and parcel of the fixtures and fittings. Thus it is that this week I found myself in the Century cafe at the down-town end of the tourist strip in Kanchanaburi. It is a fairly minimalist affair, simply a glass box with walls on two sides. Furniture is very square, wooden and extremely simple in design. The one nod to comfort is the two-seater settee on which I have ensconced myself.

The presentation of the fayre is rather impressive though. The coffee is served in an elaborate styled yet plain white porcelain cup that swirls elegantly in a clockwise cone, the cup itself supported on a square, wave-form saucer. It is perhaps a little too much of an example of form over function but one has to admit that the presentation is pleasantly pleasing on the eye. Due to the excessive heat of recent weeks, I have taken to enjoying a large smoothie each and every time I indulge in an Americano. The strawberry smoothie I am indulging in today at the Century is one of the best I have tasted in this town. The tendency is to over-sweeten them, but this one seems simpler and a tad more wholesome than most on sale in Kanchanaburi.

Above the counter are a couple of golden figurines, seated in traditional meditation poses. Such Buddhas and similar statuettes are common features of the cafes and restaurants in this country. Almost every minibus, taxi and bus will also have something similar. Given the way Thais normally drive, any divine influence to ensure a safer journey is welcome indeed. They lose massive amounts of people each year to road accidents but, given what is considered 'normal' behaviour on the roads here, the only wonder is that it is so few.

Buddhism here is very much the religion of the people and the Sangha (Buddhist Community) is much respected here. Monks are also given a great deal of deference as a matter of course. Buddhism of itself is a very profound, and in some ways a very beautiful and logical expression of human spirituality. As ever in such situations though, once human beings become involved and start to structure a formal 'religion', the day to day reality becomes further and further removed from the ideas that inspired it. One of the original traditions that one sees re-enacted every day is the collecting of alms by the monks. The saffron clad monks come around every morning, begging bowls in hand, and people give food and other refreshments. It seems though, that of late what is considered reasonable for the monks to collect to sustain them in their roles in life has become more and more liberally interpreted. A friend reported recently sitting next to a Buddhist monk on a station and finding that amongst the sustenance carried in his bag was a bottle of whiskey. Apparently the monk smiled a somewhat sheepish grin when he noticed that the farang sitting next to him was aware of the presence of the whiskey. Who knows, perhaps it was there for spiritual support …

For many years, Buddhism in Thailand was considered the apotheosis of the religion by many, and spiritual seekers from all over the world would come especially for such things as meditation courses, retreats or to spend time in one of the forest monasteries. These days, following a series of scandals and Western visitors observing the reality of Buddhism in Thailand as it is practised day to day, the image of the peaceful and profound religion has become somewhat tarnished.

Presently in Thailand, Theravadan Buddhism is ensnared in any number of scandals and seems to have been taken over, to some extent at least, by some very unethical characters. Some of the 'Buddhists' at the top of the clerical heirarchy seem to live lives that are a long way removed from the material denunciation advocated by the Buddha himself. One recent film that caused something of a stir featured two monks taking a flight in a private jet, the pair still wore the traditional saffron robes but completed the ensemble by sporting Ray Baan sunglasses, and a Louis Vuiton bag had been casually cast aside on a nearby seat.

One monk was recently caught with 120,000 methampthetamine pills whilst another actually managed to get himself dismissed from his temple, a fairly rare feat given the indulgence of the ruling council for such misdeeds, for investing US$1.2 million on the stock market.

Perhaps the biggest controversy of late concerns Wat Dhammakaya, the huge Buddhist temple located just to the North of Bangkok. This particular establishment is run by a Phra Dhammachayo who, according to a recent article in the Bangkok post, loved to look good, used body lotions and cosmetics and was fond of facial massages administered three times a day. A woman was allocated to change his sheets each day. He gets up any time he likes as seems to not feel any obligation to collect alms as is normal for a Buddhist monk. He also has a creative bent, being fond of sculpture and, in particularly, of the female form. Apparently he had, as a youth, some admiration for a variety of powerful historical characters, his particular favourite at the time being one Adolf Hitler ...

This is all very well for the profile of an interesting, if somewhat flawed, character. It hardly seems the profile that would be suitable for a Buddhist monk though or the leader of a particular brand of the religion ('brand' being the operative word it would seem).

During the early years of Dhammakaya, the organisation was beset with financial problems, in particular the disappearance of large amounts of money. Apparently, a fair amount of this money found its way into the personal accounts of Phra Dhammachayo. After an investigation, a substantial quantity of the money was returned to the Sangha, but the process took quite a considerable time. At the same time there were also controversies linked to the ownership of land. Again, these were, to some extent at least, subsequent resolved but again there was quite some delay in the process. Currently, there is an ongoing controversy concerning money laundering and the Dhammakaya organisation. There is an old saying: 'No smoke without fire', in the case of this organisation, there does seem to be an awful lot of smoke...

One of the more controversial aspects of this form of Buddhism is the process of giving donations in order to obtain 'merit'. Having such merit is supposed to be beneficial at a future stage when you reach heaven; having sufficient merit guaranteeing the purchaser a favourable status in the afterlife. This is not unlike the processes used (mis-used?) by the Christian church in Europe for many centuries, and led to many similar problems involving corruption.

Anyone who has any knowledge whatsoever of Buddhism will understand that such teachings are so far removed from anything the Buddha taught as to be completely unrecognisable, or even antithetical to the basic precepts of Buddhist thought.
It seems that the same patterns must repeat themselves again and again, and in many forms. Each time men organise a 'religion' in order to structure spiritual experience the process invariably ends in some form of corruption. We see this again and again in Christianity, in Judaism, in Islam, in Hinduism and sadly in that simplest and most direct of all systems, Buddhism. I would humbly suggest that if one wishes to obtain insight from the great masters and leaders of these systems to simply go to the source, read what the originators themselves said and thought, and avoid the indirect interpretations presented by the various representatives of organised 'religion'.

Troubling thoughts on such a hot day. Fortunately the cafe remains a cool sanctuary, ideal for the purpose of such ruminations. The blog itself has taken a couple of hours now and I am of a mind to dwell on lighter matters. It is still far too hot to think of wandering down the street to The Jolly Frog for a little evening qi-gong exercise, so instead I order another fruit-shake and indulge myself in reading a little Henry Miller (The Tropic of Capricorn – highly recommended!). Oddly, there seems more direct, and even spiritual, insights to be had in this much-banned book than in many a prognostication out of the mouths of priests, monks, mullahs and rabbis.

Broken China...

As I start this blog entry, I find myself sitting in the rather impressive Shenzhen Bao'an airport terminal 3, a wonderfully modern, state-of-the-art construction, designed by the somewhat unfortunately named Massimiliano Fuksas. It is the kind of architecture that modern China has fallen in love with, or at least those responsible for the pubic purse. One finds examples of these structures everywhere in modern China these days. The railway stations in the medium to large cities for example, often so dully normal in many countries, are on a scale that is scarcely believable in the PRC. Like modern cathedrals, the interiors bedecked with shining white marble, one cannot help but wonder at the cost of such constructions.

Arriving in Hangzhou last year, I recall wanting to buy an onward ticket and being directed to the ticket office at the other end of the inner concourse. The walk, through a vast echoing hall of gleaming stone, the subject of more or less continuous care from a vast army of cleaners, took a full ten minutes. It feels more like catching a plane than taking the train when using such places, the stations more akin to airport terminals than anything we would normally think of as a railway station. Many of the processes are the same. One's luggage is run through scanning machines in much the same manner, passports or I.D. papers have to be shown, and one is not allowed onto the platform itself until the train number has been announced when one proceeds to the appropriate departure gate.

It is all very impressive, the contrast all the greater though after starting the journey from the back alleys of Chang An where rubbish was piled high and left for days, stinking and rotting, the home to an army of cockroaches and rats. Personally, I was somewhat averse to the sight and the smell, but one would regularly see elderly people, their trailered bikes piled high with all sorts of flotsam and jetsam, scrabbling through the mounds of detritus looking for anything of any value whatsoever. This even went as far tearing open packets of discarded foodstuffs, trying to retrieve the small amounts of content that remained after being thrown away, often just a few grams of powder.

One of the justification that the Chinese government trots out, when asked to justify their truly awful CO2 emissions to climate change conferences, is that China is 'a developing country' and hence should be allowed more leeway than the 'developed' countries of the West. China alone is actually responsible for a quarter of the entire planets emissions and yet they manage, year in and year out, to avoid any restrictions whatsoever on their polluting activities by trotting out this excuse.

China is not an under-developed country in any sense that the phrase was originally meant to convey. The infrastructure would, for the most part, be the envy of most countries around the World. Development goes on at a pace that is truly stunning. New projects are constantly being commissioned by local and national government on a truly herculean scale. Money seems to be everlastingly available for such schemes. They seem to represent an expression of national or local pride, a kind of civic vanity for many local authorities to make the very best possible impression on visitors to their cities. Town halls in China in particular, can be seen as very clear examples of this civic vanity. They are often vast megalithic constructions, or examples of the very latest in architectural trends, that cost untold millions. 

No, China is not an undeveloped nation in the normal sense. On many levels it is vastly rich with sums of money owed to it that are truly staggering (the US debt alone is far more than most economies are worth). What they do have is a wealth distribution problem. The contrast between the wealthy, often an odd admixture of people in China between entrepreneurs, business owners and civic officials with sufficiently influential positions to make their patronage worthwhile, and the poor is often extreme.

It is indeed quite strange to reflect that for a so-called 'communist' country their wealth distribution is actually somewhat worse than either the UK or the US. Indeed, it is odd to think that in the former of those two countries, theoretically a capitalist Western country, there is far more state sponsored help for individuals (hospitals, pensions, welfare, education, etc.) than in the, theoretically at least, communist country of China. The money is there in the latter case but... they would rather spend it on endless vanity projects and suchlike than use it to assist alleviating the load on the poor or providing facilities to the population.

There is a strange factor at work here, or at least strange to someone such as myself coming form a Western perspective. There is a really quite bewildering callousness at times built into the culture. It is not that it is a mean culture or anything of that ilk, in many ways and in many situations, it is actually quite generous. Once one is accepted within a given group then the generosity becomes almost embarrassing at times. On several occasions during this trip, I almost had to fight in order to pay a restaurant bill. People who had treated you previously already would scarcely allow you to reciprocate, assuring you that as their guest they would be happy to pay. It can almost reach comic proportions at times, with several male members of a given group theatrically almost coming to blows for the right to pay the bill.

The downside of this, and where the callousness comes in, is that the generosity tends to extend only to those within the group. Outsiders, be they outside the family, outside the business, outside the locality, anyone who is not considered part of a given group, do not enter into the calculation whatsoever. Often, they are not even extended the most basic of civilities or consideration. There is an oft-used expression in the West: charity begins at home. For many Chinese, this is a fundamental assertion.

The philosopher Confucius gifted the Chinese people with the notion, indeed the fundamental importance, of the beneficial nature of social harmony and relationsips. In day to day practice, this has evolved into the concept of 'guanxi'. Guanxi is expressed in China through interwoven networks of relationships. Here it is the classic case of not what you know but who you know that really matters. The individual is considered to be of little importance within this system. What matters are the networks of relationships that he is part of.

All can be decided by guanxi: education, job, social circle, social status. Those in authority frequently owe their position not to any particular skill or abilities but simply to the relationships they have build up, familial or otherwise, that will allow them access to such roles. If you have few connections, or those connections are not sufficiently powerful or influential, your career choices are likely to be extremely limited within this society.

As ever with these things, one's view of such practices depend how one frames them in one's mind. You could say that it is, of course, necessary to build networks, and relationships are important in almost any situation in life. On the other hand, one could look at guanxi as more or less an inbuilt culture of massive corruption that effects almost everything that occurs in China today. It is all-pervasive and everywhere in the culture, so omnipresent that it is scarcely even realised by those within the system. It simply is the way that lives are lived here.

Within this context, anti-corruption drives, such as the currently professed policy of Xi Jinping's government, are unlikely to meet with any sustained success in the long term. In practice, the hidden purpose of such policies in China has often been to 'purge' political opponents; a way of asserting the leader's grip on the party apparatus. This may or may not be the case with the current example; for the moment, it is too early to say. If it is a genuine attempt to root out corruption then it is a massive task indeed. One can only wish them well in such a venture.

Back in the departure lounge, my flight has just been called. Within a few minutes I should be leaving China and heading South to the sunnier climes of Thailand. In many ways I will miss the place. Each occasion I come here I enjoy it but, at one and the same time, I also find it maddeningly frustrating. One cannot help but be elated by the sheer magnificence of buildings such as this terminal, it is architecture on the grand scale. On the other hand, one cannot but help but be depressed by the sheer abject nature of the poverty one sees here. Magnificent and abject, generous and callous, so much opulence and yet so much squalor; the China of today is a land of great contrasts.

Some people love it, others loathe it. After another two months here, I am still not sure which of these groups I owe my allegiance to...

Will any one bid two chickens?

Today my flaneurial activities find me safely ensconced in the delightfully cool environs of the Sittisang coffee house in the centre of the Chinese section of old town Kanchanaburi. It is only a few minutes past midday but already the temperature outside has climbed to the giddying heights of 35 degrees centigrade and going up. Over time, I have become acclimatised to these levels but there comes a stage as the mercury climbs above the mid 30s that one needs, if at all possible, simply to escape the heat. Fortunately, Kanchanaburi is blessed with numerous cafes many of which are air-conditioned. The tourist area down near the Kwai has many such establishments but occasionally, in the flaneurial spirit, I like to take a slow stroll downtown to areas where one scarcely sees another 'farang'.

It is curious how often in such circumstances one will come across police officers. To be fair, it is as hot for them as for the rest of us. It is a little surprising though, to me at least, to be able to spend a couple of hours composing the latest blog continuously in the company of these same gentlemen from the local constabulary. When in Thailand, and for that matter in many other Eastern countries, a certain adjustment of one's concept of the police officer and their role in society is often required. Here in Thailand it is as much an entrepreneurial activity as a public duty.

I was discussing these aspects with a Canadian ex-pat the other day. He related a situation where a friend of his, a Thai, had died in a motor cycle accident (not an uncommon occurrence here, unfortunately). The police, having gathered all the available evidence, taken all the necessary measurements and interviewed the appropriate witnesses then brought the relevant parties together and essentially asked them to make their bids. It seems that the attribution of guilt or innocence is not so much dependent on the details of the incident but on the depth of the pockets of the protagonists or, as in this case, their relatives.

Such corruption, whilst appearing to be surprising to the Western eye, is a way of life in Thailand. So normal is it in fact that the average Thai would find it curious that such events could be seen as in any way strange by a Western observer.

To be fair, this is not only the case in Thailand. For some years in the UK I assisted a young Chinese woman in her efforts to gain asylum. In her particular case the details were quite favourable to her cause but at almost every turn there was the assumption on her part of 'who do we need to pay off now?' At times, I had to restrain her from making such inappropriate offers to officials for fear of inadvertently prejudicing her case. The notion of making progress in these areas without the need to bribe anyone was completely foreign to her and difficult to understand, so normal was it to conduct affairs of this sort in such a way in the land that she originated from.

Here in Thailand corruption could almost be thought of as the basic structure that holds the society together. A complex interaction of relationships based on favours given and received. I recently read of a survey in the redoubtable Bangkok Post which asked 352 companies if they would endeavour to turn their backs on corrupt business practices. All but 9 said that they would not and, indeed, could not. Without indulging in such practices, they reasoned, how could normal business exist at all? One suspects that the 9 who thought otherwise may not have actually believed that but had merely struck what they thought to be the appropriate pose.

From the top of society to the bottom bribery, back-handers and nepotism are the norm. I read an interesting piece online recently. It told the story of the NACC (the National Anti-Corruption Commission) being called to conduct an enquiry into the conduct of some members of the government. In order to facilitate this process they were given a substantial conference room in a plush hotel in Bangkok. When the members of the anti-corruption commission discovered that the room allocated to them was overly large for their purposes they arranged for a section of it to be partitioned off and therein set up a gambling club. Over the weeks that the commission sat pontificating on weighty issues the not inconsiderable proceeds of this establishment were shared between those running the club and the commission. Such a solution would seem creative to many a Thai mind and the irony of an anti-corruption committee behaving in such a way would likely tend to escape them. One has to, however, give due respect to the committee's expertise in the field of corruption...

During a recent election in the North of the country, observers discovered that large amounts of votes had been purchased in return for livestock. Apparently the going rate was one chicken one vote. It makes a change from one man one vote, I suppose, but rather misses the point of a democratic system. When questioned about such foul/fowl practice many of those bribed in this way could see nothing wrong, viewing it as merely a transaction between a buyer and a seller. The only way that the observers could get any kind of understanding from the voters involved was by asking them if, in their opinion, their integrity was only worth one chicken. At this stage some of the voters seemed to feel slightly uneasy (chickens are generally not highly respected in Thailand) but for many it was merely a market situation and the concept of voter integrity did not really enter into their heads.

Interestingly, when questioned about other matters, these very same voters were extremely vocal in their complaints against corrupt officials and government representatives but seemed completely unable to make the connection to their own corrupt behaviour. It seems they considered themselves the victims but never the perpetrators. Corruption is a mind set here, a way of being.

As one can imagine, all this makes national politics something of a nightmare in Thailand. One corrupt regime follows another, each one seemingly even more rapacious than the last. Every now and then the army steps in to bring some resolution to the chaos but pretty soon the whole merry-go-round starts again. The current incumbent, a member of the Shinawatra family, is likely to be deposed following next weeks Songkran festival (the NACC is investigating a case which is likely to go against her). As far as I can ascertain the chief feeling against this family is that they have occupied the government long enough and it is time for someone else to take their place. It is not so much that they are corrupt, or at least not any more corrupt than those in opposition, it is just felt that they have had their nose in the trough for quite long enough and it is time for someone else to take a turn.

That someone else may end up being the formidable Suthep Thaugsuban, this despite having a murder charge hanging over his head for the last decade and allegations that his own previous administration were deeply mired in corrupt practices of their own. The voluble Suthep (he has been talking every evening for weeks in a park in Bangkok in his bid to oust the current government) is the leader of the People's Democratic Reform Committee. As noted in a previous blog, the particular element of democracy that this party wishes to reform is voting. The electorate, in their view, keeps voting for the wrong people (ie., not them), so the process is obviously in need of reform so that votes cannot actually decide the outcome and stop them holding power. An interesting way of looking at the democratic process...

Interestingly, when asked whether it would be a good idea to get outside (U.N.) observers in to monitor elections and make sure they were fair, Suthep, without the slightest awareness of the irony of his statement, said: 'I don't respect farangs.' Now, apart from the blatant racism of this statement ('farang' is basically a derogatory term for foreigners, particularly of the Western variety), its implication that the Thai electoral process needs no help from the outside seems to fly in the face of all the evidence to the contrary. What is required by Suthep and the PDRC is not so much as a fair election as one in which they are likely to win power.

Fortunately, this country runs despite its government, not because of it. The government has effectively been paralysed for several months now, not an unusual situation in Thailand, yet somehow life goes on in much the same way as ever: the businesses continue to pay the bribes, organised crime continues its presence in the administration of the country, the buses continue to be driven off viaducts on a regular basis (strangely, always as the result of brake failure according to the reports...seems oddly contagious here). Little happens about these issues because there is little public or political will to make it happen. This is Thailand and it is the way things have been done since ages past.

Despite the political impasse, people go about their normal business. The shops continue to sell their wares in the centre of Kanchanaburi. The proprietor at this café sits awaiting customers on this very hot afternoon, much as he always does. I continue to tap out my blog. Thailand remains one of the most beautiful countries I have ever visited. The fauna and flora are incredibly varied and abundant here and quite something to behold. The people themselves are friendly, charming and very easy going. The culture is also deep and fascinating. In many ways I would advise almost anyone to come and experience this remarkable land but forewarned is forearmed...

The problem is that if one ventures to spend some time in this land, one needs to understand that corruption is embedded in the very structure of life here. Given that, my best guess would be that they are about a century away from being about to run any sort of democracy actually worthy of the name here. It would not be a mere change of politics, that would be the easy part, but would require a fundamental change of culture. 

To paraphrase Abraham Lincoln's Gettysberg address, what we have here is corruption of the people, by the people, for the people. This is not likely to change any time soon. In the meantime, particularly in the upcoming months, there may be much turmoil. A good time for a nomadic flaneur to be leaving Thailand methinks...