a tale of two cities
School was dismissed early twice that week.
Students were hurried into the arms of parents and scurried away on the back of
motorbikes to return home. Some families headed home to watch from the
television, others raced to join Chonburi’s own front lines.
November brought cooler weather and protests to
Thailand. The country of a Thousand Smiles was now riddled with bewildered
citizens and raised flags. Three years
of calm abruptly ended when an amnesty bill was proposed that would pardon the
exiled former Prime Minister, Thaksin Shinawatra. Although the Senate turned
down this bill, a wave of backlash surged over Thailand and was aimed right for
Thaskin’s sister and current Prime Minister, Yingluck Shinawatra. Anti-government
supporters rallied together with a determined mindset of dissolving the corrupt
regime of the Shinawatra siblings. Even
in the Land of Smiles, corruption and politics are never far apart.
Anti-government demonstrations were building up
throughout the weeks in November. The
air was swollen with angry words from citizens who have lost faith in the government.
Concentrated in the capital where the opposition
dominates, the protests strengthened in size, frequency, and force. The rallies
were peaceful at first for the most part with simple gatherings and marches to
unite the disgruntled. However, the saturated and heavy air over Bangkok opened
up on November 30th and released a deadly rain on the City of
Angels.
Coincidentally that same evening three of my
fellow teachers and I were overlooking Bangkok from a rooftop bar and enjoying
a happy hour special – unaware of the fatal turn of events.
_____________________________
Brittany, Laura, Emily and I had planned to
visit Bangkok for the weekend to see the floating markets and buy our travel
tickets for Koh Tao. That week we had
received numerous travel warnings from the US Embassy about the wavering status
of Bangkok. The protests were ruling the
news and internet; however, we cannot let fear of what might happen stop us from living our life. We are four educated
young adults. We must be aware of what is around us and honor the growing pains
of a country hosting us. Obviously we would not be joining the front lines, hoisting
a Thai flag, and demanding the government to dissolve.
We arrived in Bangkok Friday evening after a
speedy and bumpy van ride. These BTS
Vans stop on the side of the road, slide open their doors, and with good faith you
hop in. The crazy driver speeds through
traffic, weaving around motortaxis and double decker buses. Everything about
these vans screams ‘creepy man in a white van offering you candy… stay away!” However,
it is our only mode of transport to Bangkok so we will take what we can get.
Exhausted from a busy week at school and with
plans to wake very early the following morning, we opted for a relaxed
evening. The Saxophone Pub was highly recommended for a laid back atmosphere
with good music so we decided to check it out.
Luckily enough a blues band was on set so we made a home at the bar and
drifted into a bluesy lullaby. The lead vocalist had an incredible singing
voice. His words were oozing with heartache, burned bridges, and longing memories.
For being thousands of miles away from blues’ birthplace, this Thai band did
not disgrace any soulful blues artist.
We woke with the sun and headed up north to the Damnoen
Saduak floating markets in Ratchaburi. I
have become a professional at bargaining. The street vendors in Italy and
landlords of guest houses in Croatia primed me for Thailand. In this part of the world, when they see a foreigner
they see dollar signs. Although, I am most likely better off financially than
they are, I am still a traveler on a budget and there is no justification at
being cheated on a sale. I use their language, put on a tough face, and walk
away if I do not get my way – but somehow I always win. After bargaining down a
longboat ride through the market, even the man in charge said I was a ‘strong
woman’.
We piled in the shallow wooden long boat and
merged into the traffic of the floating market. Damnoen Saduak is the Venice of
Thailand. Canals serve as the primary mode of transportation; where their
version of the gondola carries people, fruits, and handmade crafts. It was a chaotic
and amusing experience. There are no
traffic laws on these canals and declaring your space on them is dependent on
how aggressive you are with your oar. The vendors line the perimeters of the
canals, some of their shops resting on their own boat while others are built on
makeshift rafts. They sell everything - crafts, food, clothing, and home décor.
If you show any interest in something they whip out a stick with a hook on the
end and reel you in like a big fish. This is when your bargaining skills must
be on point. Women with coconuts or delicious mango and sticky rice float past
you offering a snack while you shop. Playful energy bounces off these murky
waters adding to the experience and showing us just another example of how
Thailand has perfected organized chaos.
We took the public bus to and from our hostel to
reach the main bus station. The route passed government buildings and showcased
the progress of the demonstrations and protester’s might. Large cement
barricades and barbed wire blocked off roads that led to government buildings. At
this point we saw the military’s presence and only heard the rallying calls of
protesters over the loudspeakers in the distance.
After a power nap in the hostel we planned to
treat ourselves to happy hour on a rooftop that evening. We traveled up to the 55th floor
of Centara Hotel and entered the Red Sky Bar. The host directed us to a lounge
bed to watch the setting sun. Rooftop bars and skyscrapers go hand in hand with
New York and although Bangkok cannot rival the Big Apple’s skyline, they do rooftop
happy hour right. As the sun dipped into South East Asia’s omnipresent smog, we
sipped on cold cocktails and swapped stories of our travels and future
plans. It was the perfect end to the
day and start of the night. The City of Angels slowly lit up below us. The
traffic glared red and towers glowed yellow, making you forget you are in the Far
East.
After spending six weeks in a city where the
only white people are your fellow coworkers, arriving in a metropolis and seeing other expats comes as a shock. As we rode the above
ground subway and overhead English conversations, I was teleported to the
mixing pot of New York City. Bangkok is home to an eclectic collection of
expats – backpackers, teachers, and professionals. As we rode the extremely
clean Sky Train, I couldn’t help but wonder each of their stories – why are
they there and what is the life they have created?
The night brought us to Soi 11 - a street off
of Sukhumvit that is the hub of nightlife for locals and expats. Swanky cocktail bars mingle with dive bars
and pubs. Street meat vendors feed the intoxicated and van bars provide dance
music to get everyone in the party mood.
We bar hopped, still in awe at all the white people and western
restaurants, and ended up a Cheap Charlies. This small bar is nestled on a
corner and hidden behind a mix of wooden crafts and hanging ornaments. It
looked like something out of Peter Pan’s Island of Lost Boys.
Our plan for Sunday was to go sight-seeing in
the morning. We assumed the government
buildings would be off limits due to the protests; however we hoped we would
still be able to visit the temples and statues. As we were about to head out
the door, the receptionist at our hostel informed us of the unfortunate turn of
events from the protests. As we toasted to new adventures among hundreds of
partying expats the night before, a protester was shot dead while calling for a
new government. All tourist sites were closed off and there were orders to
steer clear of any government areas.
A few hours later a massive protest march took over the Victory Monument and passed our hostel. The events of the previous night added new fire to the Anti-Government demonstrators' plight. That morning the two worlds of Bangkok – one filled with tourists and
expats living in their bubble, the other of natives trying to strip their
ruling government of its corruption stained uniform – collided and shattered.
Bangkok tried to balance two cities in one and finally the politics of politics
pushed the tourist industry off the scale.
Looking back, I wonder what America was like for
tourists when Occupy Wall Street conquered cities or when the Government shut down
for 16 days this past October. The
tourist industry is a fragile monster that owns economies for some countries.
It can be brought to its knees in an instant from a government coup or
hurricane. Tourism is a necessary evil.
It allows people to travel, broaden their horizons, educate themselves, and
experience the world we live in. Yet at the same time, it exploits honest
people and animals, defiles pure land, and feeds the beast of capitalism. Society
has a created a world that idolizes money and acquiring goods, rather than what
we naturally have before us. So as a traveler, you must be conscientious of
what you are contributing you. Embrace local customs and traditions, support
local vendors rather than western chains, and educate yourself on the country
you have invited yourself to stay in.
Take pictures and keep memories but leave only your thanks and gratitude
behind.
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