Development

Taking due care not to breathe too deeply, I am currently enjoy the delights of the 85C Bakery Cafe in Chang An. The cafe is modern and a little soulless, built to cater for the aspirations of many Chinese  twenty somethings and their desire to be as much like Americans as possible. The coffee itself is imitation Starbucks and, if I am honest, really not too bad. There is little here though to distinguish the place from any number of other coffee outlets which one finds almost anywhere around the globe these days. One of the pleasant things about Thailand, apart from Bangkok, was the rather delightful variety of establishments where one could partake of liquid libations. The same cannot be said of modern China, where all such hostelries seem to be much of a muchness; pleasant enough, but essentially dull and lacking in anything other than the wished for corporate identity.

After nearly managing to miss a plane at Bangkok's Don Meung airport, I find myself back in the day to day turmoil that is life in 21st century China. As readers of my blog will know, I prefer the charms of leisurely travel with huge amounts of space built into the schedule to enable time to be taken for whatever diversions that one takes a fancy to en route. On this occasion however, due to social commitments, I was unable to leave Kanchanaburi until one in the afternoon to take a flight at seven. As ever, when one fails to build in enough slack, anything going wrong will put stress on the schedule, and therefore stress on the traveller. In this case it was the entirely predictable mayhem that is Bangkok's traffic. If one can avoid the busiest periods in Bangkok, traffic will generally flow at a reasonable rate, but … if arriving between half three and half seven, then traffic can slow to a rate barely above walking pace.

'Development' as it is known, was going on apace throughout the northern part of Bangkok, thus adding another level to the difficulties. This generally took the form of improved road schemes, the building of yet more dull glass and concrete monstrosities to clutter an already overcrowded skyline, and extensions to the rail transport system in the city. In theory, the economy here is only just growing, but by the look of certain parts of Bangkok, some people are doing very well indeed.

All this seemed a far cry from my adventures of only two days before. A friend took to their head the notion that kayaking on the River Kwai might be fun, despite the ambient temperature being around 38C. After some persuading, I finally acquiesced. I envisioned being hot, sweaty, overworked and under rewarded for my efforts; nothing could have been further from the truth.

We were taken by van to a point several miles upstream where, in the shadow of a Buddhist temple, we were assisted, by a very helpful group of children, to launch onto the gently flowing waters of the Kwai. After a short lecture on how to control the direction of the vessel, the two of us set out from the shore. Much to my surprise, I seemed to take to it like the proverbial duck to water and was pleasantly amazed at just how little effort was needed. After a couple of minutes of orientating ourselves to the situation, we set off downstream letting, for the most part, the current do the majority of the work.

Down at the level of the river, the temperature seemed surprisingly pleasant. We had taken care to bring along around three litres of water for the trip, and one could easily cool off by dipping a hat into the cool, clean waters and placing it, still dripping wet, back on one's head. The scenery was gorgeous, an endless variety of trees and plants lining the shores with tall, impressive, forest-clad mountains as a backdrop. A huge variety of wildlife was also on view, the bird-life in particular being both stunning in its variety and so colourful in the range of plumage. Cormorants and herons were plentiful, along with a variety of waders strutting the muddy banks on their elongated legs, every  now and again plunging their long beaks down into the shallows in search of tasty titbits.

At one stage, we saw a couple of water monitors. Ostensibly harmless, they are still a little intimidating, being all of two metres long and having the appearance of small crocodiles. These slid into the waters about twenty metres from our kayak and we experienced a nervous moment or two, half expecting them to come bumping into our less-than-completely-stable vessel.

Thailand, despite its crazy politics and archaic systems of governance, can be a wonderful place to spend an extended break. If one escapes the mad busy-ness of the cities then one is often rewarded with beautiful vistas, gentle people and the constant presence of amazing wildlife, both fauna and flora. The sheer abundance of this is hard to take in at times, and almost movingly beautiful at others. As far as the kayak trip went though, the River was lovely indeed until we passed under the famous railway bridge (built by prisoners in World War Two). At that stage, as we re-entered 'civilisation' the presence of humans was all too obvious by the amount of detritus that had been dumped in the river, particularly the ubiquitous plastic bottles, and the need to counteract the wake produced by high speed launches ferrying tourists from the bridge to the main town.

It is rumoured that the Thais and the Chinese have agreed to a high speed train connection that will pass through Kanchanaburi at some stage in the not too distant future. This, it is believed, will lead to more 'development'. What this basically means is more hotels, more factories, more people, more rubbish in the river, more species disappearing, more damage to what it is that is beautiful about Kanchanaburi and its environs.

The beauty of the Kwai above Kanchanaburi was but a memory by the time I reached Shenzhen in Southern China. Everywhere I looked beyond the new airport were new buildings, new roads, new everything. China seems to be fast disappearing under concrete. From Hong Kong to Guangzhou, a distance of some sixty miles, it is hard to tell where one city ends and a new one begins. This area is home to some 115,000,000 people. At climate talks, the Chinese often claim concessions, saying that their country is still 'underdeveloped'. If this is underdeveloped, I would hate to see what overdeveloped looks like …

The Chinese, like so many other countries around our planet, measure their success in terms of economic growth. What this growth has created in reality is a country where the air is nearly unbreathable, the water undrinkable and the food bordering on inedible (pesticides, dubious production methods, genetic modification, all unbridled and unchecked) and cancer rates sky-rocketing. If this is the fruit of economic growth, then one has to question the underlying assumption that such growth is necessarily a good thing.

Indeed, it seems that many thinkers in the past have done so. One often hears it said that we need economic growth to raise the standards of living of the less well-off. Oddly though, there is plenty of evidence that in many countries where growth has occurred in recent times, it has actually led to a worsening of economic inequality, not an improvement (the UK, the US and China all being obvious examples). In many economies what is needed is at least the intention of addressing the inequality of wealth distribution, rather than endlessly trying to grow economies to the further enrichment of the super rich, with all the subsequent damage to the society and the environment.

Back in the 85C Bakery Cafe, a couple of hours have passed and the place is now crowded with smokers, much to the detriment of the air within. Often smoking is banned in such places but, as ever in China, such rules are rarely enforced. In many ways, one can understand the fatalism of the Chinese smoker. Perhaps they rationalise that the air is so bad anyway that one might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. I find myself looking back to the joys of the kayaking on the Kwai and the feeling of fresh air in the lungs. Sadly, it may be some weeks before I get to experience the latter once more ...

Too many cooks ....or too many crooks?

Today, after a week of temperatures just below 40C, I have chosen to arise early and and write at the small, informal coffee hut attached to the Morning Baan guest house in Kanchanaburi. I have been staying in a small cottage at the side of the guest house for the past few weeks. It is a tad expensive at £60 ($90) a month, plus bills. The bills in question normally come to about £3 a month but I manage to get by anyways. The coffee hut itself offers Nescafe instant, a local brand of decaffeinated coffee and yellow label tea, if one is so inclined, in a completely self-service format. They also supply marmalade and toast, both of which are as much appreciated by the ubiquitous ants as by the customers.

One of the reasons for choosing this particular location, apart from the obvious pecuniary advantages, is its all pervading quietness. The only disturbance experienced is the singing of the birds and the odd scattering of dried up leaves as a lizard runs full-pelt through the detritus, often on its hind legs.

It is a good place to sit and think, and a good place to write. Since publishing last week's effort, events concerning the Dhammakaya temple have become ever more dramatic with claims and counter-claims being bounced back and forth by those involved in the dispute. A former aid to Phra Dammachayo, Mano Laohavanich, has come forward and made scathing criticisms of some of the financial misdoings of the organisations and, in particular, of the leaders themselves. Having made such accusations, he says that he now fears for his life and has asked for appropriate protection. He may well have a point. The connections of Wat Dhammakaya are far-reaching within Thai society, including some high ranking civil and military figures.

Oddly, images from Dhammakaya services somehow remind me of the Neuremberg rallies of Germany in the 1930s, not sure why...

All such shenanigans seem a very long way indeed from anything Gautama Buddha propounded two and a half thousand or so years ago. Dhammakaya seems to be a very status and rank conscious organisation within which, at least according to its critics, position and status is more related by the ability of the devotee to pay for appropriate merit than it is by deeds, character or spiritual attainment. There is also much criticism of the type of 'Buddhism' being taught at Dhammakaya. Mostly, this concerns such things as the ignoring of even such basic Buddhist concepts as non-self (anatta), and the somewhat obsessively materialistic nature of Dhammakaya preachings (to say nothing of the lifestyles of some of those running the organisation).

Perhaps at this point it should be stated that the Thai Buddhists, even those of the Dhammakaya sect, are by no means unusual in this. It seems to be the fate of all human organisations to change, dilute and essentially corrupt whatever system of belief they were originally intending to promote. A couple of examples might suffice to clarify the point. There are many possible of course, this process seeming to be almost ubiquitous in human affairs.

Firstly, in the religious area, we could take the Christian church and the early influence of the Emperor Constantine. Due to political pressures at the time (around CE 325) it became necessary for the Roman empire to try to create a unified church rather than the endless disputes that fractured early Christianity. To this end, the conference of Nicea was called which established the notion of the divinity of Christ, stated which gospels were to be included in the Canon (and perhaps more importantly, which were to be left out), and imbued the nascent Roman church with much power.

Over the centuries since, many schisms have occurred within the church, usually as a result of devotees within perceiving the all too apparent corruption of the status quo and, as a reaction, choosing to establish another Christian order. Within an all too short a period of time though, the same process occurs, and the inevitable corruption sets in. Organisation, in and of itself, and perhaps by its very nature, seems to invariably lead to the misinterpretation, distortion and corruption of whatever message was originally intended to be communicated.

Essentially, if one looks at the history of Buddhism, Islam or any number of other religions, one will find much the same kind of process occurring. As we progress further and further from the source, it seems to be more or less inevitable that the underlying and pure message will become more and more contaminated. As stated last week, if one is interested in a given spiritual view then it seems wiser to go to the source rather than rely on any subsequent interpretations through churches, temples or any other body that involve self-interested men. I would recommend to anyone who is inclined towards such spiritual matters to go to the source, go to the writings or speeches of the originators of these spiritual systems, rather than rely on later interpretations by those within the system who may have had other things on their minds (power, money, influence, etc) than the spiritual advancement of people.

In politics, much the same sort of process occurs with a truly alarming regularity. For a very obvious example, I could cite my own recent visit to China, when it was all too readily apparent that whatever was going on there in the name of communism, it was about as far removed from anything that Marx or Engels would have advocated as one could get.

In the US and the UK in recent years, those inclined towards capitalism and idealistically recommending that 'market forces' be allowed to dictate circumstances suddenly found themselves asking for massive state intervention (policies much closer to socialism or even communism) when they themselves were threatened by a sudden deterioration in the financial situation.

One could go on citing examples almost indefinitely. The process of corruption and misinterpretation are very much the norm once an organisation such as a church, a movement or a party are formed; so much so in fact that I am hard put to think of an exception...

When such widespread and ubiquitous corruption is seen from religions to government, from the so-called forces of law and order to scientific bodies (supposedly ruled by logic but all too often dominated by the usual urges to power or to have influence) it seems small wonder that some give up hope that any such human organisation can ever be free of such urges.

Many people have been struck by such thoughts as these in the past, from the early days of the cynicism of Diogenes of Sinope (famous for barrel living...) and Crates of Thebes, to such relatively modern-day luminaries as Henry David Thoreau and Mikail Bakunin. Often, the response they have recommended comes under the general term of anarchism, a term often misused to imply a state of chaos, but which actually is more concerned with returning the power in organisations, particularly governments, back to the individuals and away from the centre.

Perhaps Thoreau put it most succinctly when he said: "That government is best which governs least". He added, as an afterthought, the clarification: "That government is best which governs not at all!"

Naturally, this attitude can (and maybe should) be applied to many other forms of human organisations, not just government.

Back outside the simple coffee house in the garden of the Morning Baan guesthouse, the sun is reaching its zenith and it is time to seek some kind of escape in a slightly more modern, and hopefully air-conditioned, establishment. Fortunately today, there is a slight breeze coming off the river, rendering the environment just about bearable. Tis a beautiful place, despite the presence of a few timber huts dotted here and there, one is very conscious of being in natural surroundings. It seems that wherever one goes in Kanchanaburi, wherever nature has been allowed to predominate it is invariably rather beautiful. The ugliness only comes when the humans start to interfere...

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.

The Fat of the Land

On this incredibly bright and cloudless day I find myself seeking some relief from the relentless white heat of the sun in the air-conditioned sanctuary of the Hua Hong cafe in the old, down-town part of Kanchanaburi. The cafe in itself is somewhat unique with its separate rooms, partitioned off from each other, its black-lacquered wood and its enchantingly old-world feel. Architecturally, it is something of a leftover from the 1930's when this part of town had a thriving Chinese community. These days, the area is largely run down, the paint fading, the buildings crumbling, but it still retains enough of its charms to be redolent of former glories.

It is around half three in the afternoon, so the schools are emptying and a steady stream of young Thais are making good their daily escape from the tyranny of a nearby educational establishment, resplendent in their white and blue uniforms. I watch them filing past whilst I alternately sip either a hot americano or an ice-cold strawberry shake. I wonder why, all around the globe, it seems that kids are condemned to wear European style schools uniforms; what is wrong with the local style I wonder, in this heat it might be far more pragmatic.

Amongst the kids, to quite an alarming extent, I cannot help but observe that there are a large number of the big-boned, the heroically proportioned, the plump, the Rubenesque or what used to be known, in the less PC days of yore, as the fat. They waddle down the road blocking the already far too narrow pavements, sweating and grunting their way through the hot afternoon sun.

In typical Thai fashion, many prefer to avoid the waddling and instead plump themselves onto a groaning scooter, their bodies seemingly settling down over either side of the too narrow saddle as the suspension groans under the weight. Tis often the case that one espies many of the younger, not so gravitationally-challenged Thais on scooters sharing the experience, travelling two, three or even, on occasion, four to a bike. This is not the case with the more full-bodied, amply proportioned kids … just one of these specimens is quite enough for any bike to bear.

There is an interesting phenomena that occurs when one revisits a country several times over a period of years. Much as when one visits a young family every few months, one becomes aware of the changes in the children, how quickly they change and grow, perhaps even more conscious than the parents themselves. Much the same sort of thing occurs when one revisits a country, one notices changes that those who live in the country may not.

Revisiting China, for example, it was noticeable how the traffic is just a little better behaved (still terrible, mind you, but better ...), the expectorating reduced, the air a little more breathable. Revisiting Thailand for the third consecutive year, it is clear that some things are changing, and changing quite rapidly. Riders are mostly wearing crash hats now, whereas this was a relative rarity on previous visits, Bangkok is booming, even if against a background of economic struggle, and the kids are getting fatter and fatter.

There is a perception, fairly commonly held by many in Asian countries, that people from the West are bigger and stronger. They generally put this down to the diet of Western countries and, in particular, to the consumption of meat. For many cultures, China and India in particular, corpulence is even looked upon as a sign of success, a sign of the overweight person having the ability and the means to be able to afford to consume large amounts of food.

The consumption of meat, in particular such things as burgers and fried chicken, has gathered pace to an alarming extent in recent years across the region. Now, in China, it is actually quite difficult to find restaurants that cater adequately for a non-meat diet. There is even a look of incredulity when it is explained that someone does not actually want to eat meat. My friend and guide in China often had to explain my lack of meat eating in terms of my being a monk and thereby having 'special' dietary requirements (I quite liked the bit about being a 'monk', few things could be further from the truth ...).

The Chinese themselves now have many of the same old problems associated with the consumption of meat that the West has suffered for some time. Rates of high blood pressure, stroke and heart attack are all increasing rapidly. Cancer rates, already high because of the toxic affects of polluted air and water and the large proportion of smokers, are now also growing in those types of cancers related to diet. On top of this, the Chinese military have also suffered some less generalised (no pun intended...) problems: it seems that many of the new recruits to the Peoples Liberation Army are now not only much less fit than they once were, but struggle even to fit into the standard issue tanks. This has meant a huge (again, no pun intended...) expense to redesign and refit their armoured weaponry.

In Thailand, the problem is exaggerated somewhat by the less than active lifestyle. To be fair, often the country is simply too hot to exert oneself on a continuous basis and one has to pace oneself throughout the long, hot day. Living daily in such an environment, the Thai's have become highly-skilled exponents of such pacing. During my flaneurial meanderings, I see many examples of the application of their expertise as they snooze happily by the roadside in home-made hammocks, slung beneath improvised lean-tos, contentedly dozing for hour after hour.

This is all very well, and even maybe a necessary adaptation to the conditions, but when you add this lack of movement to a diet high in sweet foods (sugar or syrup seems to be added to almost everything that is not savoury here), burgers and fried chicken, then you have a recipe (I have got to stop doing this...) for disaster. Even during the three years that I have been coming to this land, there has been a noticeable increase in the numbers of rotund, of the well-built, of the generously configured. Those of more ample proportion may not be in the majority yet, but they are weighing in (sigh...) and changing the balance considerably. The big-boned, the buxom and the cuddly are becoming the norm, especially amongst the children. This is not a healthy development either for Thailand or, more importantly, for themselves.


Back in the Hua Hong cafe, I look around at several other Thais enjoying their coffee. Most of them are in their late twenties, several are older. The females are slim and slight and appear to be quite healthy, the gents a little corpulent, but still relatively reasonably proportioned. The contrast with many of the younger generation could scarcely be greater. 

Oh well, at least the coffee is good, the air conditioning pleasantly cooling and the cafe itself rather wonderful. In fact, I would have to say this is one of the loveliest I have ever had the good fortune to visit. Kanchanaburi is fortunate in having a wide selection of interesting cafes but, having sampled many such establishments by now, I would have to say that this is one of the most beautiful and an ideal place for those of a flaneurial mindset to sit and ponder on a hot afternoon in Thailand. 

Sex, Love and Dodgy Food in Thailand...

I start this week blog from the cool confines of the Jolly Frog, a backpacker's hostelry with a rather pleasant garden overlooking the fast-flowing River Kwai. The garden itself is probably the best part of the entire establishment. It is always quiet, peaceful and encourages one to sit and read, or merely to ponder, amongst the palm and tamarind trees. There are even a pair of very copious hammocks, made from knotted webbing, slung between the palm trees, generously supplied for those who enjoy the delights of swinging rhythmically back and forth whilst they choose to contemplate the meaning of life or the content of their navel. The restaurant itself, where I am actually tapping happily away at my netbook, is somewhat less salubrious. In fact, the expression 'cheap and cheerful' could have been coined especially for it.

I have a fondness for the slightly down-market, down-at-heel, ambience of the place though, often enjoying a pause in the writing to look around at the eclectic collection of characters that this place attracts. By now (mid-morning), most of the clientèle have escaped the comfy confines of their beds and wandered, bleary eyed, into the restaurant to indulge in an incredibly wide range of food from egg and chips to pad sai-ee, from frankfurters to chicken chow mein. The menu is thick indeed, thick enough to cater for a very wide range of international tastes and, in a truly democratic manner, all the dishes are prepared to a similarly low standard. They can ruin almost anything here...

There are numerous gentlemen sitting around the tables, often of more advanced years, accompanied by much younger Thai females. Sometimes, these arrangements are temporary, but more often there is an ongoing relationship. They meet up with the lass in question whenever they come back to Thailand. In many cases, they may even subsidize the woman whilst they are away. The Thai woman for her part, will be faithful enough to the man in question whilst he is with her, but there may well be others when he returns to his part of the world. It is a very pragmatic attitude that such females have and, in general, it serves them well. The gents in question often know this is the case and usually don't mind too much. Some of the more naïve ones, as is ever the case in these matters, believe they have found the 'love of their lives' and act accordingly. Fortunately, this is not often the case, but it is always a little sad to see when it is.

Some of my friends have asked me for my thoughts on the exploitation that goes on in Thailand. In their minds they often have the notion that the Thai girls are exploited by the visiting Europeans (or Australians, Americans, etc.). From my perspective the reality is, as ever in life, a lot more nuanced, and it is often difficult to tell exactly who is exploiting who. For the most part, these situations seem to be largely symbiotic, with both parties taking what they need from the situation. If both are reasonably happy with the arrangement that ensues, then I would be the last to criticise or to judge.

Judging in such matters is always an easy option, but almost invariably a lazy one as well. Often it involves a certain amount cultural prejudice and just a tad of parochialism. It is strange how easily many folk, often even those who profess to have the most liberal of views in other matters, feel free to rant and rave about the perceived misdoings of middle-aged or elderly white males. It seems to be forever open season on such easy targets.

Beyond these more impermanent relationships, there are many who settle down with Thai wives and even raise families here. The arrangement, as with much in Thai life, often has a certain 'business-like' quality to it. There is an understanding, a mutual exchange between the persons involved, each getting what it is they want or need from the situation. There are some 'gold diggers' amongst the Thai women to be sure, but, to be fair once again, for the most part they keep to their side of the bargain and look after their husbands through thick and thin.

For my part, I have a certain admiration for the ex-pats that gather here. They are the select few who actually have had the courage to step out of the mode, to escape the rut, to break free of the often deeply hypocritical societal norms that those who criticize them purport to follow. Reality is that often those who sit on their immobile posteriors and make their observations from a great distance are simply lacking the courage themselves to step out of the rut that their 'normal' lives place them in and take the plunge, with all its concomitant risks.

It is certainly true that there are many drunkards, many reprobates, many ne'er-do-wells, amongst the ex-pat community. Some can be quite depressing at times. There are few things worse than being trapped at a bar with one such, often necessity finishing one's libation and an early exit . On the other hand, there are also many interesting, even at times fascinating, courageous and multi-faceted characters here as well. The conversations range from the pathetic to the profound, from Wayne Rooney's recent form to Buddhism's influence on Christianity, from the attractions of women with hair beneath their armpits to the literary contributions of Ernest Hemingway and Henry Miller , from the efficacy of a Thai massage to the role of linguistics in modern political discourse . In short, it is much like one would find in many a café, bar or pub back in Europe except that here the intensity and the immediacy is far greater.

Kanchanaburi itself is relatively restrained as far as the sex trade goes. There are a few bars at the end of the tourist strip, mostly rather sad at the moment and lacking in customers. Several of these are ladyboy joints apparently, with those working there often sitting outside the bar nattering amongst themselves, probably bemoaning the parlous state of business this year. (I am still rubbish at telling the difference, protruding adam's apples or not. Fortunately, because I tend to avoid the whole milieu, this is not a problem for me). In this particular town, there is still a client base for such things, oddly it is probably larger than that for the more 'normal' arrangements, which are somewhat less adequately catered for here in this part of Kanchanaburi.

A good friend of mine from back in Europe often informs me of how amazing he finds such 'women'. It always strikes a discordant note with me as, at the same time, he frequently expresses a horror of homosexuality. I have, amongst several of his friends, tried to point out the inconsistency of his position but, in his world at least, as long as the person in question is in possession of most of the female attributes, then the odd 'modification' is not a problem for him. Who am I to judge? If we are honest, each and every one of us has our own peccadilloes, our own preferences. It is strange how many people seem to free feel to criticise others whilst at the same time insisting that their own quirks are relatively 'normal'.

For my part, the so-called 'temptations' of Thai night-life hold little temptation at all. This is not due to the holding of any particularly moral position on these matters, but simply the perception that such an encounter holds no fascination for me. If others experience such things differently, and choose to indulge, then it is fine by me. A little less judging and a lot more tolerance would go a long way in this world. Many of those who are so quick to judge others for following their preferences often seem to be of a more onanistic disposition themselves, preferring their pleasures sans risk, and are simply expressing their own fears or envy.

Back in the jolly old Jolly Frog, most of the breakfasters have now dispersed and we are left with the usual absurd ratio of multiple members of staff to very few guests. One wonders how this place can possibly make any profit at all, but it is one of the longest surviving establishments in Kanchanaburi. Indeed, it is often said that this place started the whole backpacking tradition in this town. For all its limitations, it has its own charm in a 'spit and sawdust' kind of way. It's basic, very basic, but still a very comfortable place to be.

Much the same could be said of Thailand ...

PS. A short addendum to this blog: A couple of weeks after this was written I met an Irish bar owner in Bangkok who told me the story of an English friend of his. The man had decided to settle in Thailand's capital with a younger Thai wife. They bought a house together which, according to the bar owner, was beautifully appointed and very tastefully decorated. When I say 'they', I mean that the English guy put up the money whilst the house was registered in his wife's name, as is the law out here. After a couple of years, the man in question had to return home due to the ill health of a parent. On returning, two weeks later, he knocked on the door to his own house only to be answered by a complete stranger who told him that he was now the owner of the property. Of the Englishman's wife there was no sign and no forwarding address.

A few weeks later, and by sheer coincidence, the Englishman strolled on to a beach in Hua Hin only to come across his wife sunbathing with drink in hand. To his credit, he kept his cool, but did ask her what had happened. She openly admitted that she had sold the place and bough a new one in Udon Thani. She was completely matter-of-fact about this, seeming not even to conceive of her behaviour as in any way reprehensible.

Needless to say, the Englishman attempted to seek recompense through Thai law. Equally needless to say, he got none. Essentially, the law is set up in such a way as to give the 'farang' little or no chance in such circumstances.

Would be suitors beware... 

Off Piste and Occasionally vice versa...

Sometimes, in order to continue the flaneurial process, one has to jump through a few hoops put there for the entertainment of administrators from various lands. So it is today that I find myself in the delightful 'Coffee Happy & More' in the backs streets of Ratchprana 3 in Bangkok. The coffee shop is much to my liking and the owners friendly and helpful. I am having a quick Americano and metaphorically girding my loins before setting off for the challenges of the Chinese consulate. It has the reputation of being a somewhat difficult process so I have tried to cover every eventuality that may arise but … I still find myself somewhat less than confident of success today. Reading several accounts from the internet, others have come along similarly well prepared and failed.

I am only a day out of Kanchanaburi, but already I find myself missing the place. Somehow, apart from my initial enthusiasm a few years back, I have never really enjoyed Bangkok. In the constant heat the noise and the traffic become very wearing after a time and, apart from a few of the main roads, it is no place for a quiet and thoughtful saunter as befits the role of a flaneur. One of the things that one very quickly notices about Thais is that they don't really have very much use for their legs, apparently being there solely for the purpose of keeping the torso upright when need be which, in itself, is not very often; the preference being for sitting or, if at all possible, being completely supine.

For the indigenous population it seems, even the shortest of journeys warrants the use of some kind of mechanized transport, the ubiquitous scooter being the mode of choice. One will often see the girls in the local bars, when in need of some supplies from a Seven Eleven or a Tesco Lotus, will invariably take their motorbikes, even when said store is but 50 metres distant. The pavement, or what the Americans call the side-walk, is there for the purposes of parking these bikes or for the purveyance of various 'street foods' and not, perish the thought, for actually walking along.

I was very tempted to use an old joke at this point along the lines of 'what do you call a pedestrian in Thailand?', the answer being 'a farang (a foreigner)', but I thought I had better resist the temptation …

The pavements here, perhaps because of their lack of use, are invariably either not fit for purpose or so obstructed as to be unusable. This means that those who would choose to saunter around town often have to do so with the ongoing risk of being scooped up by a pre-occupied scooter rider, often engaged in either texting or attempting to hold their child in one arm while tryiing to control the bike with the other, or flattened by a mini-bus driver who has perhaps chewed a few too many betel nuts (they sometimes do this in an attempt to keep themselves awake in order to attempt to complete an overly rushed schedule).

For all this though, I must say that I have a preference for the driving here in comparison to China. In Thailand it is lazy, a little carefree or maybe even careless but there is a kind of consideration, a generosity to the attitude of the drivers and the riders that you just don't see in China. In that land one is often struck by the meanness and ruthlessness of those on the roads, one might even say callousness, whereas in Thailand, for all their laissez-faire attitude, one rarely feels the same sense of threat.

To some extent, this reflects the differences between the two cultures, the first is very focussed on whatever it is that they want whereas the second is, in general, far more generous and far less selfish. This is, of course, a sweeping generalisation but going from one to the other one is immediately struck by the differences in cultural attitudes.

Having said that, I will still opt for the slowest means available to get back to Kanchanaburi tomorrow. This will either be the slow coach (quite literally) from the Southern Bus Terminal or maybe even the train. Mini-buses are available and are a cheap and cheerful alternative, but I sometimes wonder if the sheer stress of riding in those things will takes years off of one's life, so any time gained is strictly illusory.

Part of the role of the flaneur is to move slowly and, in this case, travel slowly. It seems to be that there is almost an inverse ratio between the speed that one travels and how much one can allow oneself to enjoy the travelling. Speed is fine, in context. I very much enjoy being wafted across continents at slightly less than the speed of sound in huge metal tubes; it is a very practical solution to the problem of long distance travel. Once I have actually reached the desired destination though, my preference is very much for the more sedate and gentle means of moving one's body from place to place.

The world is an increasingly fast-paced place in which to live. Our means of communication go on forever getting faster and faster and it is very easy, and all too common, to become convinced of the necessity for rushing everywhere. Part of the role of a flaneur is to show that there is another way and that many of the best things in life are a whole lot more fun when they are taken slowly. Such an attitude though, does take a little attention, it takes a little patience, but the rewards far outweigh the costs.

Back in the coffee shop, the young man who served me my Americano is just performing what must be his daily rites. Their is a small shrine next to where I am sitting and two more at front and back of the shop. I am the only customer in here at present and I have to admit that it is quite lovely to see the sincerity with which he carries out his devotions. This is not the first time I have seen this and, I have to admit, each time I come across it I find it really rather touching.


There is much cynicism about Thailand and the Thais at the moment, which is not overly surprising given the political problems and the degree of corruption here, but there is also at times something very charming and really rather beautiful about the culture and the people here. I think that is just one of the reasons, despite my fears of the ongoing unrest and political turmoil, that has me coming back to this land on a regular basis. In my experience, there is nowhere else quite like it.

Finally, together with a friend I was taking the time to ponder an appropriate theme song for the blog and an ancient number from Guy Lombardo came to mind. A good candidate...

A nice way of putting it...

This week's edition of the blog comes from the cool and pleasant environs of the delightfully named (if somewhat monosyllabic) Ud coffee house on the outskirts of Kanchanaburi. This place has been recommended to me by the ever helpful Heinz, a Swiss ex-pat who seems to have taken up more or less permanent residence in a local guest house and is a veritable mine of useful information. According to Heinz, the staff were friendly, the coffee good, the smoothies better and they were blessed with a rapid and reliable internet connection. What more could a nomadic flaneur ask for ?

During the past week I have had the chance to speak with many ex-pats of various nationalities. Several have expressed concern about the future of Thailand, others were completely blasé. In general though, and for the most part, the majority seem to feel that the current situation is simply 'par for the course' for this country. Those who have been here the longest generally seem more likely to be of the opinion that such coups are a frequent, and sometimes necessary, part of Thai political life. Clearly, the number of tourists is very much down this year but this has its benefits too, especially for those whose life here does not depend on the necessity of earning their living from the dwindling number of visitors. Those that do are somewhat less content...

In particular, there are noticeably less Russians about this year. Kanchanaburi was never particularly popular with them; the site not having the same historical significance as it does for others. Last year, one would often seeing 'luxury' coaches draw up and 50 or 60 Russian sightseers of various shapes and sizes would issue forth, swarm over the Bridge (of 'over the River Kwai' fame) for 20 minutes or so before re-embarking, having ticked off another site on their list. This year, there is scarcely a Russian in sight (or sound) down at the bridge.

Pattaya, in particular, has suffered a huge drop in revenues because of the lack of Russians. The new money had created the appropriate response in that forsaken town, a large number of bars and restaurants catering particularly to the tastes of the (formerly) nouveau riche beneficiaries of Putin's economic miracle. Unfortunately, not only have the tourists from that land had to make a judgement as to the political stability of Thailand, but have also had to deal with a rapidly declining rouble following America's sanctions and the fall in the price of oil. As ever in life though, in most clouds one can find a silver landing; the Russians were perhaps not the most popular of tourists with the Thais although, as ever, they much appreciated the extra revenue.

Most of the non-business owning ex-pats seem largely content with the way things are developing and to feel that there is no problem as long as one avoids getting involved in anything political. For my part, I feel it wise to avoid any potentially problematic areas and keep to more general observations. It is very easy to fall foul of some of the 'catch-all' legislation on the books here. The Generals in charge seem generally to be particularly sensitive to anything that even hints at the possibility of criticism.

During the last week, Daniel Russel, the US Secretary of State for East Asia and the Pacific, whilst visiting Thailand, made a speech in which he expressed America's desire for a quick return to democracy in this country. This did not go down particularly well with the military government and, in particular, with its head, General Prayuth Chan-Ocha, a person perhaps not famed for his patience and tolerance in such matters. A couple of fairly irritated news conferences followed together with a summons to the US Charges d'affaires, Mr. W. Patrick Murphy, who was informed of 'Thailand's' displeasure at Mr. Russel's remarks.

At this stage, a few former Pheu Thai ministers and politicians dared briefly to put their head's above the parapet in support of Russel's speech. This resulted in 'invitations' from the military government to report to army bases for sessions of 'attitude adjustment'. Such euphemistic 'invitations' seem to be much like the 'offer' that could not be refused in 'The Godfather'. Apparently, these adjustments of attitude may take anything from under an hour to overnight sessions, perhaps depending on just how much the attitude in question is in need of adjustment...

Such euphemistic language seems to be much loved by politicians, or even those temporarily acting in political roles. From those who, rather than simply resign, suddenly discover an urgent desire to 'spend more time with their families', to others who, while never actually lying, do admit to 'being economical with the truth' (Former Conservative Defence Minister, Alan Clark and Cabinet Secretary, Robert Armstrong, among many others).

Some years ago, I had the pleasure of working on a dissertation on euphemisms with a very close friend. It was clear that such linguistic niceties were widely used in the political area, but since this particular dissertation was to be delivered at a Chinese university we felt it wiser to steer clear of some of the more sensitive areas. Still, those two euphemistic favourites, sex and death, gave us more than enough material to write several papers.

Death in particular seems to spawn almost endless possibilities, from doctors reporting that their patients were 'now at room temperature' to my personal favourite, when a request to see a particular elderly individual was met with the very pc : 'I am afraid he is no longer playing an active role in the community.'

In Thailand at the moment, the creative use of euphemisms seems to have been elevated to quite wondrous levels. Those behind the coup do not even seem to like the term 'coup', perhaps because of its less than pleasant connotations in other countries, but prefer to call it an element in 'Thai-style democracy'. Mr Russel was chided for the using the term in his speech by the Deputy Foreign Minister Don Paramatwinai. Far from being a coup, at least according to the minister, 'it was in fact a revolution to install stability'.

As something of a lover of the creative use of language, I have to admit to a degree of admiration for the sheer inventiveness of those involved in politics, coups or even 'revolutions to install stability'. The innovative and ingenious use of the language is impressive indeed. One sometimes wonders though, if there is some danger in such language. Those who overuse such terminology in politics often run the risk of being mislead by their own euphemisms, it's an easy trap to fall into...

Back at the Ud coffee house, twilight is beginning to fall and I must ready myself for a crepuscular crawl into town in search of more substantial fayre than is on offer here. As I write these words, life seems very normal in these parts and it is hard to imagine the political tensions of Bangkok impinging to any great extent on the far more docile Kanchanaburi. I sincerely hope this remains the case for the foreseeable future.