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.

Lazy Bones

On a pleasantly warm but occasionally sticky Saturday morning I find myself once more in the reassuringly cheap and cheerful restaurant (seems too grand a name...) of The Jolly Frog. I seem to enjoy the ambience of this place more than most, perhaps because of its slightly tropical atmosphere and the rather lovely gardens at the rear. Customers, as ever in this place, seem to be considerably outnumbered by staff. As I tap out these words there are five guests, two of us on laptops, one texting away on a mobile phone and two actually eating. To cater for this demand we have, in sight at least, some nine staff most of whom are also happily tapping away on mobile phones. Two of the staff have chosen to bring their sproglets into work with them and are currently showing them off to their colleagues who, as ever in these situations, are making the appropriate cooing noises.

Oddly, given the plurality of staff, it is strangely difficult to get one to actually serve you. A tall lass of about 40 did make the effort originally but then the menu she was carrying fell apart in her hands and this distraction was enough to make her forget her original purpose. She returned to her seat and resumed her semi-comatose state until steadily more desperate hand waving from yours truly alerted her to the presence of, surprise surprise, a customer waiting to be served.

This situation is not untypical of my experiences so far in Thailand. Justifiably it is know as 'the land of smiles'. People do seem to be quite genuinely happier and more relaxed than many other places I have found myself in during my travels. There is often a delightful warmth and friendliness here that renders Thailand, apart from the ever-present heat and stickiness, a pleasant place to be for the most part. It is also the land of an all-encompassing laziness that has to be seen to be believed.

A couple of examples may make this point clear. Firstly, Thai don't walk. If the distance to be travelled is greater than 75 metres they will invariably take a scooter or some other form of convenient nearby transport (jump on the back of a friends bike, take a songthaew, climb into a tuk-tuk, etc. There is a plurality of choices because, in basic economic terms, the demand is so great here). When I first arrived in Thailand I took a coach down to Hua Hin, a busy seaside resort on the Western side of the Gulf. The bus dropped me a couple of hundreds yards from my hotel and I had to walk alongside a busy road full of cars and bikes for most of that distance before turning down a side street. Something struck me as slightly eerie straight away but I could not put my finger on it. I went into the town centre later that day and again had the feeling that something was a little different but I couldn't quite figure out what it was. In conversation that night I was discussing the situation with an ex-pat when he immediately responded pointing out that the pavements, apart from food sellers, were empty. After that first observation I began to notice the phenomenon everywhere I went in this land. You could have a busy little town like Kanchanaburi buzzing with shoppers, diners and café goers and yet the pavements, apart from the immediate environs of these places themselves, would be almost totally devoid of people.

Due to some physical challenges in my life there have been times when walking even short distances was very challenging. In the last couple of years these things have improved greatly for me so I very much appreciate the joys of being able to walk relatively normally once again. As a flaneur, one's duties entail partaking of the occasional slow stroll but my pleasure in indulging in this activity seems not to be shared by the average Thai. Where I am currently residing the owner's family live some 70 metres from the office and cafeteria at the front of the establishment. If they have any need to go there, even if only to pick up a coffee or take some rubbish to the bins, they will utilise one of three mini motor bikes at their disposal. If evolution takes its normal course we may well be witness to the phenomenon of Thais growing wheels in place of legs in a few thousand generations...

Secondly, there is an inherent laziness in the approach to life in general here, a love of simply hanging around and doing nothing. For my own part I have to confess that I am not the right person to dare to criticise such behaviour as I am quite fond of such a lack of activity myself. The joys of simply being are often unappreciated in the West where there is a constant and almost obsessional need to be constantly doing something. Yet few of us are unaware of the simple pleasures of lying in on a Sunday morning, swinging in a hammock on sunny afternoon or sharing a coffee and a chat with friends for no other reason than the simple fact that we enjoy it.

Buddhist meditation is very popular in Thailand; many Thais spent a portion of their lives in the practice and people come from the world over attracted to schools and retreats where they can learn these simple yet profound techniques. Yet, thinking about it, could there be any clearer demonstration of the joys of sitting around and doing nothing? Meditation takes this attitude and promotes it to a discipline, a spiritual practice. It is no coincidence that Thailand is perhaps the world's leading centre to learn the subtle arts of these disciplines. One often hears people criticise meditation on the grounds that you are really doing nothing. How right they are! But in that criticism lies the germ of a simple truth that is often overlooked by such observers. At times in one's life it is no bad thing to desist from the constant need to do and just simply allow oneself the chance to be. It is no accident that many of Thailands most beautiful Buddha statues are reclining...

Laziness has its benefits in the political sphere too. The ongoing political death match between the red shirts and the yellow shirts seems to have quietened down for now. Not that the situation has been resolved in any way, the same bitterness still divides the two sides, the same issues remain. Yet a few weeks ago it looked as if we were on the brink of a civil war. As far as I can tell nothing was resolved, no great changes were made, no one won and no one lost. Yet it has all become a whole lot quieter now. I think that this relatively peaceful period has not been due to any political initiatives or any movement in the situation whatsoever, rather the amount of energy involved in keeping the intensity going is far, far too much for the Thais. This 'can't be bothered' attitude may be saving the country from all sorts of potential problems. The Thais are a passionate and intense people, they care deeply about their politics and the affects that these things have on their lives. The intensity and the passion do not tend to last for very long though. In temperatures that are consistently above 30 C it is hard to maintain that kind of commitment. The temptations of 'what the hell' and going back to the hammock are just too great. It seems that in this area, as in many others, the benefits to laziness are manifold and subtle...

Back at the Jolly Frog a few more customers have turned up and the speed of service has climbed considerably from fully comatose to a snail's pace. The girls still spend most their time perusing catalogues and magazines and the customers are also far too hot to be that bothered anyway. It all gets done somehow or other. I would imagine that the denizens of New York or some other such fast-paced metropolis would be driven mad in such a place as this but, for my part, I know where I would rather be. I spent a few days in that most awful of cities a few years ago. I remember it as being perhaps the rudest place it has ever been my misfortune to encounter. Almost every place I have found myself in the last twenty five years tended to have its compensations, its reasons for looking back fondly on and perhaps hoping to have the chance to re-visit one day. New York was one of the exceptions (Soviet-era Moscow was another). Its speed, its noise and its general rudeness were singularly unpleasant.

The Big Apple seemed to be full of people busily doing, doing, doing, without even a second to spare to acknowledge your existence. They were far too busy and their business far too urgent even to stop and help with directions, as I remember.

 Given the choice between the fanatically busy lifestyle of New Yorkers and the laziness of the Thais, I think I know, for all the frustrations of slow service and the like, where I would rather be...