Too many letters...

"Truth is ever to to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity and confusion of things."

Isaac Newton

After having wondered a couple of miles upstream towards the Bridge over the River Kwai (as made famouse in the David Lean film of the same name), today I find myself enjoying the cool and pleasant environs of Miss Coffee, an establishment that according to the owner has been open only for a grand total of four days. Oft times, I take a pic of the coffee shops I frequent and use them as a heading. This time the roles have been reversed. Being one of her early customers, the charming lass who runs the place took a pic of yours truly for inclusion on her website. There is something of a fondness in many Eastern cultures of making an art form of the practice of enjoying liquid libations. Such pleasant distractions seem enough to stir the loins of many a bon viveur of the oriental variety. Much time and energy is devoted to lifting the experience out of the mundane and into the extraordinary. This attitude goes back a long way. Such ancient cultures as Japan and China spent much time perfecting the art of enjoying a beverage with many writers devoting whole volumes to the preparation, presentation and consumption of such refreshments.
The past few days here have seen both an increase in, and a change in the type of heat. The local weather is now soggily sticky and stifling, which tends to suck the energy from the body unless one is extremely careful to expend one’s physical resources economically. What this does mean though, is a great excuse to spend even more time in air-conditioned cafes indulging in online flaneurial activities. Observing the World and the changes its societies and cultures are going through is the very essence of the role of a flaneur. Hopefully at least, one can apply a relatively detached and objective attitude, indeed, this is the very essence of flaneurism (hmm...I think I just invented another ‘ism’, just what the World needs right now...).
One of the changes that has, for the most part at least, been a relatively positive development in recent years has been the general acceptance, at least in most of the first World, of people’s various tastes in sexual expression. The LGB (Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual) movement was much needed to address a long standing intolerance, usually based on scripture from outdated religious movements, regarding people’s sexual preferences. The reasoning seemed to be that if some wandering semitic tribe or other didn’t approve of such things a few millenia back then we should endeavour to reinforce such antedeluvian prejudices for the rest of time. Many lives were seriously affected by such attitudes, especially when they were transcribed into law. Perhaps the most influential man of the 20th century, Alan Turing (the mathematician and codebroker whose seminal work lead to the development of computers, smart phones and all the other digital paraphenalia that affects each of our lives so fundamentally today), preferred men as sexual partners . For having this relatively common trait he was offered, by the British justice system of the time, the choice of prison time or chemical castration. He chose the latter, but it seems that the changes his body went through and the concurrent depression lead to his taking his own life.

The LGB community made a valid point and their contribution to the debate led to great changes to the legal standing of such folk throughout America, Europe and the Antipodes. Unfortunately, those demanding inclusivity then started to add ever more letters to original, perfectly clear, three. It has been interesting to watch this process which seems to have gone from the short and pithy original to the frankly absurd current state of affairs. To give a couple of examples, one version now reads LGBTQIAGNC, which apparently stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer, intersex, asexual and gender-non-conforming. Another, even catchier version gives us LGBTIQCAPGNGFNBA. In case you haven’t guessed already, this stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, curious, asexual, pansexual, gender-non-conforming, gender-fluid, non-binary, and androgynous... obviously.
(At times, it seems to me that to make sense of such acronyms one would need the memory of an elephant and the code breaking skills of Alan Turing himself!)
Where did it all go wrong? I would suggest that occurred from the moment the letter T was appended to the the LGB. Many of those within the community understand that this was a decidedly odd step to take. Up to that point the issue being addressed was that of sexual preferences. With the addition of the T though, a medical condition (body dysmorphia - or the belief that your body is other than it is) was included as if it is somehow part of the continuum.

In all but a tiny number of cases, all human beings have either XY or XX chromosomes. These are to be found in every cell of one’s body and define, at the most basic biological level, whether one is male or female. It is not a choice. It is not something that you can change on a daily basis. It is not a matter of societal roles, or some other such nonsense. It simply is. In the case of the male for example, no amount of estrogen or genital mutilation will change the basic fact that he is still a male. No matter what chemicals he takes, no matter what he chooses to wear, or what his stated preference - to use the pithy vernacular of my youth - a bloke in a dress is still a bloke in a dress.
For some reason, pointing out this all too obvious truth outrages some people, particularly those who have been exposed to the completely bogus academic field of ‘gender studies’. Groups representing these poor souls (Transgender people have a suicide rate at around 40% - an horrifically high number that has changed not a whit despite our more ‘enlightened’ times) have successfully pushed through legislation in several states in America and nationwide in Canada that forces people to use ‘preferred pronouns’. What this basically means is that a person can now be prosecuted for calling a man a man. These folk often accuse people who point out the absurdity of this situation of being ‘transphobic’. I would counter that those who insist on such spurious notions are, in point of fact, realityphobic.
By nature, and by practice, I am a libertarian. My belief is that as long as the activity doesn’t impinge on the choices of others, then people should be free to behave however they like. If a man wants to wear a dress, stockings and high heels it is of no concern to me. He can even pretend that he is a female in his own mind, that is again essentially his own affair. Where I would draw a line however, is in the insistence that I recognise his pretense as if it were reality. I may choose to use his preferred pronoun out of good manners, or even respect, but that is my choice, not his. To pass laws that tell me that I must say something that is quite contrary to the reality I perceive seems a very strange route for the legal system to go down.
A couple of hours have passed in these musings, and with it the worst of the days humidity. It is now time once more to sally forth in the direction of the slowly setting sun. It seems I am likely to leave this part of the World in the next few days, Northward bound for Guangzhou in China. That part of the World has its own charms (along with its own annoyances!), but I will miss the town of Kanchanaburi and several of the people I have got to know better whilst I have been here. Tis an oddly enigmatic little place, the whole town only having a population of around 30,000. The part I frequent is probably only a mere couple of thousand but...it has a an enigmatic quality of its own that somehow draws me back again and again. With some reservations, I really quite enjoy Thailand, but Kanchanaburi I actually love. Not completely sure why, but probably something to do with the unpretentious but charming nature of the place and the variety of characters that it draws to its generous bosom. Many, like me, come back year after year.
Long may it continue.

Lazy days...

Today, as sticky and as hot a day as one would wish to experience, I find myself in the slightly frayed-at-the-edges, albeit relaxed, environs of the Betty Boop Bar in Kanchanaburi. The place’s air conditioning seems to have been installed by someone who failed to understand the concept as the bar opens out directly onto the street, the opening being the entire width and height of the premises. It does ‘benefit’ from a plethora of fans though, doing what fans do in these conditions. Essentially, that consists of moving hot air from one part of the bar to another, in a very similar way to fan heated oven, with roughly the same effect. Pride of place is taken by an eight foot by four foot snooker table that the locals, as well as the expats, like to play pool on. As the table is essentially built for snooker, with the much smaller pockets that come with that game, the version of pool played here is very tactical in nature, multi ball breaks being fairly exceptional. Such amenities are at least free here though, as opposed to the slot style tables that are to be found in the UK.
In these conditions it is necessary to be somewhat economic in the way that one spends one’s energy; any drastic increase in output tends to mean that one is drenched in sweat in under a minute. As someone who both enjoys exercise and feels a need to indulge in such activity, it has become necessary for me to literally get up at the crack of dawn, just after 6 a.m., in order to do an hour’s juggling, yoga and planking. A couple of times in the last two weeks, due to slightly overindulging the previous night, I failed to start exercise until 7.30 a.m. This was a drastic mistake on my part and led to some unpleasant heat exhaustion like symptoms similar to those I suffered in Chiang Mai four years back. A certain amount of common sense is required and the pragmatism to understand the beneftits of laziness in an environment such as Thailand’s.
Oddly though, the enforced laziness that the environmennt here necessitates is, for this flaneur at least, often somewhat paradoxical in nature. Despite strolling around the place at the pace of a happily stoned two-toed sloth having an easy day, and spending much time imbibing an endless variety of fruit smoothies and other such hydrating concoctions, I seem somehow to get more done than I manage back in the UK. On my last trip to SE Asia I consumed innumerable books on finance and investing, wrote several articles, read half a dozen novels and spent much time investigating the possibility of a new book, even completing in draft form the first four chapters. All this whilst zig zagging back and forth between Guangzhou, Dongguan, Hainan Island and Thailand.
Even on the present trip I find myself studying the ever elusive Mandarin (it is actually getting better now - at last!), continuing my attempts to improve the schoolboy French I have had for years, reviving this blog, consuming George Orwell novels and researching a new idea for a novel, whilst on the physical side I manage an hour’s yoga and juggling at dawn most mornings. All this on top of some very pleasant social activities, enjoying in-depth conversations with several of the interestingly philosophical souls one finds in Kanchanaburi, and socialising for several hours each evening, which seems to mostly consist of playing pool with locals and ex-pats and watching the odd football match in the bars. This is, all in all, a fair amount of activity yet feels as if it is all done at such a leisurely pace that almost everything from the juggling to the conversations, from the French to the novel, feels like an easy-going indulgence.
I remember noticing this phenomena in another blog (Busy Doing Nothing) a couple of years or so back. Oft times, those who seem to be buzzing around like the proverbial blue-assed fly, flitting at ever increasing pace from one unfinished task to another at breakneck speed whilst driving themselves into a froth-mouthed frenzy, somehow seem to manage to be both forever short of time and remarkably unproductive. As ever fooled by the superficial, we often seem to confuse activity with productivity, the appearance of busy-ness with actually getting things done. P.G Wodehouse was famous for spending each morning in his Southern French villa leisurely writing on the verandah and the rest of the day indulging in the pleasant lifestyle that that particular part of the World offers. He did this for years, but left behind a remarkably large body of work that has easily endured the test of time in the decades since.

As I finish this blog sitting beside the River Kwai and gazing out across the slow flowing waters on yet another pleasant evening, I find myself once more appreciating the benefits of slowness, of taking one’s time, of savouring the flavour of one’s very existence. Often in modern culture it feels as if we are forever chasing, faster and faster, towards some potential future. Indeed, life itself is often framed in this way, a continuous quest to prepare ourselves for a part of life that is yet to come. It is all just imagination, of course. These futures scarcely ever come to pass, and even when they do they are often not at all as we had imagined them. The reality of marrying that dream girl, of getting that yearned for promotion, of buying that house is often really rather disappointing. Rather than forever projecting ourselves into such fantasies, perhaps it would be wiser to realise that there is but one time when we are truly alive, and that time is right now, in this moment
Live it well.

Finding the Words...

"The limits of my language are the limits of my world.❞
‒Ludwig Wittgenstein

This morning I find myself working happily in the small bar at the rear of the Tara Guesthouse. It is slightly more expensive than the cafe on the main road, but is has a much quieter ambiance, more conducive to activities such as this. There is a small pool, barely wide enough to execute a single stroke, but quite pleasant on a hot day. Today though, it is overcast and remarkably cool for Thailand, the mercury barely managing to reach 28 celsius. Such days though are to be appreciated here in normally sunny Siam, much like Goldilocks’ ideal: not too hot, not too cold.
I have spent most of the morning since a juggling session at 6.30 a.m. struggling to improve my nascient Mandarin. I have made efforts, infrequent and intermittent it’s true, but efforts, to acquire this most challenging of languages for about four years now. Some urgency has been added to the task as it now seems likely that I will be back in the Centre Land (Zhong guo, so called apparently because the Chinese perceived their country as being the centre of the World) by the end of November.
Why is it that language acquisition is so difficult beyond one’s teenage years? I am not the brightest in the World, but I am not the thickest either (though, at times, I have my doubts...), but acquiring another language at this stage of life does seem to be an immensely difficult undertaking.
I have posed this question to several of my fellow travellers whilst here in Kanchanaburi, but without receiving a satisfactory response up to now. Some of them speak a second language, several are even polyglots, but none seem to have acquired much fluency in another language later in life. I did meet an American in One More Bar who seemed to speak adequate Thai after living in the country for seven years. His understanding though was limited to the spoken word, as became obvious when he tried to translate the writing on a cigarette packet. Even with the obvious context, a gory picture of impending damage if one should actually enjoy the product therein, he still found it difficult. I was impressed both by his obvious intelligence and his willingness to risk embarassment whilst seeking to improve his skills, but a little discouraged by his inability to understand the fairly simple text.
I recently spent some time in France (see blog) and was pleasantly surprised with just how much French I knew. I had told my travelling companion before we left that essentially I had no French, but when faced with the reality of seeking out some pain killers in a pharmacy it became clear that I knew far more unconsciously than I had given myself credit for. Thus emboldened (this happened on the first day of the trip) I had a lot of fun inflicting my enthusiast, if somewhat dubious, language skills on the local population. Apart from the odd ‘zut alors’, they seemed mostly encouraging!
The thing is though, somewhat depressingly, my French comes from my long lost childhood, from a time when language learning actually seemed to somehow stick. The famous psychologist and all round renaissance man, Noam Chomsky, once opined that all children are born with a Langauge Acquisition Device (LAD) embedded into their neurology. I have personally witnessed many examples when children of mixed nationalities or those who find themselves growing up in a different country to their parents homeland quickly and easily pick up the local language. Unfortunately, Chomsky also was of the opinion that this device atrophies somewhere in the latter teen years, thus making it progressively more difficult to learn another tongue as we get older.

Noam Chomsky

On the positive side, there has been a veritable explosion on the internet in recent years, particularly perhaps on Youtube, of people advocating ‘hacking’ a language. They use techniques such as focussing their attention on frequency tables (lists of the most commonly used words), flashcards, basic grammar hacks that quickly reveal how each language’s grammatical assumptions work and several other such ‘quick fix’ ideas. Sometimes though, I wonder if it is not the simple willingness to make mistakes, the sheer thick-skinnedness, of these individuals that allows them to make progress. Indeed, perhaps this is what we lose as we get older and mature from teens into young adults. As children, we are often unafraid of making a mistake, occasionally even making a fool of ourselves, but the older we get the more we tend to dread such embarassing situations. As our personalities ossify with the passing years perhaps it is that very process that makes further learning more and more difficult?
These language ‘hackers’, from Benny Lewis (the Irish Polyglot) to Tim Ferriss, tend to have one thing in common; a willingness to take a risk and to be unafraid of making mistakes, even advocating such situations as a way of learning. They are a brave and somewhat extrovert bunch, but perhaps their methods are not applicable to everyone.

After starting this week’s blog I found myself in a situation when I was forced to employ German with some fellow travellers who share the same verandah in the Smiley Frog. Again, much to my surprise, the German I had learnt as a 30 year old in pursuit of a certain young lady in the fair city of Stuttgart came readily to mind. It was by no means fluent, but I found I could understand 95% of the conversation and could contribute myself to the extent where I was readily understood. Interestingly, to learn the language I had used a very esoteric method known, at least at that time, as accelerated learning. Large parts of the sessions consisted in lying back, eyes closed, listening to baroque music from the 18th century and gradually, very gradually being fed German whislt you were in this relaxed state. Amazingly, despite the rather disconcerting conscious feeling that you were not learning at all, the stuff seemed to stick.

Perhaps this is the answer to my own conundrum. It is clear that many of our most fluid and fluent skills are completely unconscious. Indeed, when the conscious mind tries to interfere with them it is often to the detriment of performance. If you try to consciously think, for example, of how you actually perform the act of walking and then try to control it with that part of the mind, you will invariably find that it becomes much, much more difficult. The skillful execution of a golf swing, the playing of an instrument, the construction of a long and complex sentence in conversation, all these are generally done completely unconsciously and very much best left so.
With these heady thoughts in mind, I think it is time to finish imbibing this beer and consign this week’s effort to the World Wide Web. The venue has moved on to the Triple B Bar on the main drag, musicians crank out “I still haven’t find what I am looking for” which, in the circumstances, maybe quite appropriate. But maybe, just maybe, I have my first clue!

Juggling commitments....

“If there is to be any peace it will come through being, not having.”
Henry Miller

It is late on a balmy Friday evening, something of a relief after the mercury touched 41C mid-afternoon; a slight breeze stirs the air pleasantly. I find myself sitting in the open air Tara Guest House restaurant enjoying a large and very refreshing Chang (Thai beer) and a plate of what are described on the menu as 'Pineapple Flitters'. These come with either honey or chocolate, or even both if one is feeling particularly indulgent. My lifestyle here is generally quite healthy but this, I have to admit, forms something of an exception.
I did actually stay here for a few days on arrival, opting for the very reasonable 'superior' suite at a relatively expensive £12 a night. Normally, by this stage, I have settled into some kind of long term accommodation, usually involving a cold shower and a lack of air conditioning, but this time I have been in somewhat indulgent mood and so the pleasures of fresh sheets, fresh towels and a small but cooling swimming pool have proven too much to resist.
Although such temptations sometimes get the better of one, I still find myself frequenting the much-loved but distinctly down market 'Jolly Frog' on a regular basis. The accommodation may not be the best in town and the service internationally renowned for being terrible, but they do have the most wonderful garden and a peripatetic clientèle of wonderfully eccentric characters, some of whom seem to have become regular visitors over the years.
The garden is also a wonderful place to take some exercise; the air is fresh, the flowers beautiful and the fact that the river Kwai runs so close by all lend a unique ambience to the place that has charmed many a weary wanderer (including your footloose flaneur). When I arrived last week, I immediately headed for the place to practice a little qigong and indulge my current fascination for swinging nunchucks. I have little interest in using such weaponry for any aggressive purpose, but love learning the wonderfully flowing and co-ordinated movements that are necessary if one is to perform with any degree of gusto.
On the first day in the garden, whilst practising a few of the more advanced moves, I met a German guy by the name of Alex and a young French lad called Ansulyman, both of whom were practising juggling in the same garden. A mutual exchange of views on the subject of skill acquisition followed, and so it was that, for the last four or five days at least, an informal school dedicated to such performance arts sprung up quite spontaneously amidst the palms, tamarinds and bougainvillea of the Jolly Frog.

Others guests and various itinerants have happened by over the last week and found themselves drawn into the process. At any given time one can find oneself learning various forms of juggling, particularly with balls and skittles, nunchucks, qigong, tai chi or other, equally exotic forms of martial and performance arts.

The atmosphere is very informal, relaxed and supportive; all in all, very conducive to learning such skills without any sense of pressure and, basically, just for the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of it. For my part, I have focussed so far mostly on picking up juggling and am now, after a few days of trying, able to manipulate three balls at once without injuring the spectators or dropping them too frequently. One young man has progressed from neophyte to attempting five balls in a mere four days, although it has to be admitted that it can be a somewhat hazardous undertaking to stand anywhere in close proximity when he attempts to do so. 

 
When learning new skills is a pleasure, almost an indulgence, such activities become very pleasant indeed. I sometimes think back to the pedagogic horror which formed my own education, to the woefully inadequate methodologies employed, to the stress laid upon discipline imposed from the outside (whilst discipline is clearly necessary, that imposed from within is often far more powerful, and far more effective), to the simplistic 'chalk and talk' methodologies, and many other unpleasant and ineffective conventions, and realise that, for me at least, conventional education was merely something that I had to survive rather than having any real value in terms of knowledge or skills acquisition.
Since those far off days and the daily frustrations and humiliations one suffered in the process of poorly acquiring skills that were often completely useless from that moment forward (working out tangents has not come up even once in the intervening years, and as for the learning of the (mis)doings of various Kings and Queens of England… such knowledge only turned me into a lifelong and convinced republican). Since those happily far-off days I have invariably found myself enjoying learning a range of new subjects and competencies in so many areas. All of these seem to have been acquired relatively easily, just as long as I was given at least a modicum of encouragement and support to do so. Looking around the 'school' in the Jolly Frog this morning, the thought struck me that such learning is so normal, so natural, so enjoyable for all of us, if only the right ambience is created.
Back in the Tara they are closing up for the night and I find myself faced with a pleasant ten minute walk back to my hotel on the river front. Kanchanaburi is even quieter this year; so quiet in fact that one wonders how long the almost deserted bars can survive. On the other hand, those of us who are more open to the less inebriated, daytime pleasures of the place are enjoying the current state of affairs immensely. And so, as this late but still

very steamy hour, I must bid thee a fond farewell and prepare this rather over-exercised body for a night of hopefully recuperative slumber.
Night night….

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.

Plus ça change....

This week flaneurial remarks originate from the essentially very cool 'Chillhouse' cafe on the River Kwai Bridge Road in Kanchanaburi. It certainly lives up to its name, the air conditioning being left on at a constantly low temperature; so much so in fact that one is almost relieved to leave the place and feel the comfortable warmth of the Thai streets once again. During the heat of the middle of the day though, I am fond of spending an hour or so within its chilled environs. Oddly, one scarcely sees another Westerner there, the cafés regulars being mostly reasonably well-to-do Thais who invariably greet one and all as they enter the premises with the ubiquitous 'Sawadee Khrap' (or 'Sawadee Khaa' even, if they happen to be female). This is often said with a bow of the head and even a clasp of the hands in a prayer like gesture.

Such politeness is an essential in Thailand – the simple acknowledgement of another person's presence and an expression of respect. To experience this once again came as something of a pleasant relief after the indifference (at best) of China. In fact, the first few days here have been spent re-acclimatising myself to the very different culture. There is an expectation here, almost a demand, for politeness and acknowledgement; failure to do so can easily offend, even if unintended. Thailand is very much 'the land of smiles' but one must ensure that one smiles back!

The atmosphere this year feels subtly different though; there is something of an uneasiness about the place that was not readily apparent during previous visits. There is a tension in the air, an almost palpable sense of anxiety, almost of foreboding. When I last left Thailand in April 2014 it was still a place of political chaos and turmoil but that is almost the normal state of affairs in Thailand. It generally lurches from crisis to crisis but somehow, through it all, manages to survive and even, to a certain extent at least, to prosper.

In May of 2014 however, there was a coup, lead by the now Prime Minister, Prayuth Chan-Ocha. Originally, a state of martial law was introduced and a curfew, which must have slowed down the night-life a tad in such places as Patthaya, Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Fortunately now, the worst of the restrictions have been eased and things have got back to something like normal, superficially at least. Coups are not unusual in Thailand, they seem to be a regular political event that punctuates attempts at establishing democracies every few years. There have been accusations, particularly from those aligned with the deposed Pheu Thai government, that the military have not been particularly even-handed and are favouring their opponents with the subsequent changes and the proposed reforms to the democratic process.

The jury is very much still out on the coup and the justifications for the further actions of the new government. There is a sense of dis-ease here though now, possibly even a sense of the dangers of the upcoming challenges to the future of Thailand. Personally, I would like to write more about such issues but, given the state of affairs here and the restrictions, it would seem wise to desist. Many of the issues could not sensibly be discussed without entering into areas that could conceivably fall foul of article 112 of Thai law (that pertaining to 'lese majeste'). Currently, this is being applied very widely here, and there have been several cases of even foreigners being locked up for prolonged jail sentences (between 2 and 15 years) for stepping over what is a very vague line here in Thailand. Those interested may wish to look up the subject online; perhaps after doing so, they will understand my reluctance to address certain issues...

As ever, and as was the case in China, presentation seems to be nine tenths of statistics. Officially there is no problem with the tourist trade but at the street level here in Kanchanaburi things do indeed seem somewhat quieter. At the far end of the River Kwai Bridge Road from where I stay there are a selection of bars where one can find, if one wishes to indulge such tastes, a variety of distractions on offer. The last time I was here these bars were invariably full of Westerners seeking all manner of 'distractions'. This year, when I have had cause to pass that way, they make a sorry sight. Groups of girls in denim shorts and black t-shirts, usually adorned with some suggestive logo, sitting around tables outside the bars, looking vaguely bored as they chat away with each other over the loud music constantly playing in the background, but with ne'er a customer in sight, the inside of the bars completely bereft of clientèle.

Not all such changes are negative of course. Tourism has had a major, and usually negative, effect on the environment here in Thailand. Many of the beaches, for example, had become very overcrowded, littered and subject to the attentions of many of the less savoury characters in Thai society. Many now, such as in Phuket, are more or less back to their former glory. Other aspects of the environment are getting a chance to recover too (one sometimes wonders about the nature of economic success, especially after spending a couple of months in China. Often, the best possible thing for the environment seems to be... a complete lack of economic activity!)

Many of the ex-pats, a trenchant community normally and devoted to their alternative lifestyles in Thailand, seem to have packed up and left. Those that remain seem conscious of the need to keep a low profile and not risk drawing the attention of the powers that be. It is hard to tell where all this will lead in the coming months and years. Personally, I intend to stay for a couple of months and then perhaps leave for quite some time, or at least until the current situation has resolved itself to some extent.

From my point of view, it would be a shame not to spend at least some time here as, for me at least, it always strikes me as a tremendously beautiful country. Life positively teems here in ways that are, at times, quite staggering to behold. As pointed out in previous blogs, day-to-day life has many drawbacks and complications, mainly caused by the politics and the underlying culture, though that same culture has much to recommend it too. In recent years when I have come to Thailand, despite being well aware of many of the problems, the pluses have very definitely outweighed the minuses. This year, on my most recent visit, this perhaps can no longer be said. The people are still pleasant, it is still 'the land of smiles', but those smiles sometimes seem somewhat strained these days. Buddhism, and particularly the Thai version (Therevada) is as absorbing as ever. The fascinating flora and fauna remain forever beautiful and forever abundant. But beyond all this... one cannot help but wonder where Thailand is heading and does one want to be anywhere near this country when it gets there...

Back in the Chillhouse I sip my very generous blueberry smoothie. The original Americano was finished long ago during one of several edits and rewrites of this particular edition of the blog. One is conscious of the need to be careful here and to skirt around certain areas and issues 'just in case'. One of the reasons for enjoying the Chillhouse is its selection of newspapers on a charmingly old fashioned teak stand as one enters the premises. Reading the previously redoubtable Bangkok Post, always a fine newspaper and an informative read on previous visits, one is struck with just how carefully the articles are now phrased. One learns as much from what is not directly stated as from what is. It has become, at least as far as Thai news is concerned, a very much 'between-the-lines' read.

It is difficult to see how things will turn out here but the developments since I was last in Thailand, a mere nine months ago, have been drastic indeed. Many things that one took for granted are no longer possible in the current climate. It is difficult to guess how all this will pan out over the coming few months but, for my part, I think I may well be inclined to keep my flaneurial activities to somewhat less potentially volatile situations in somewhat less volatile places...

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...