Tawn and I were eating lunch at S&P Restaurant up on the north end of Thong Lor a few Saturdays ago when we noticed a commotion in the trees across the street. Who should emerge from the branches, crawling along the power lines, than a person? Yes, this is how we string new power lines here in Thailand.
The worker actually pulled the cable along as it was being fed by two of his coworkers on the ground. This is just one of those things that makes me roll my eyes, shake my head a bit, and say “Well, this is Thailand.”
Want to see a video showing some of the high-wire daredevil act set to the music of 1980s band Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark? If so, please click below.
Thanks to Carey for sharing this funny Thai commercial for ceiling panels. Thought you would enjoy it.
At the end of the commercial, the son is hysterically shouting, “Why didn’t you use Shera Flexy-board? You’re the one who killed the Geckos!” to his father.
Thais love ghost stories. It is a popular genre for films, TV shows, and comic books. There was even an animated family film that came out last year in which the popular ghosts were the good guys, taking on a bunch of evil spirits intent on taking over the human world. Here’s the poster for that (right).
If you polls, in excess of ninety percent of Thais will tell you they believe in ghosts and spirits. And by “believe”, I don’t mean casual belief. I mean, dead serious I-can-tell-you-my-own-first-hand-experience-with-a-ghost belief. Whether you share their beliefs or not, Thai ghost-lore is an interesting lens through which to view the culture.
This ad for Sylvania lightbulbs plays off the ghost theme, with the premise that things aren’t as scary in the light. Thai advertising is often very clever and Thai ad design firms win lots of awards internationally. This ad won the Silver Lotus Award at Adfest 2009 – the Asia Pacific Advertising Festival. You’ll probably want to watch it once (it’s only 47 seconds) then read my explanation below and then watch it one more time.
In the video you see the following ghosts:
Kra-Sui – This female apparition often wanders around at night in a white gown, but she is just a detached head and internal organs, usually with a brightly beating heart (which you see in the last two seconds of the ad after the lights are switched off). She is a particularly troublesome type of ghost and insatiably hungry. In the old days, bathrooms were detached latrines often located some distance from the house out near the rice paddies. The Kra-Sui, which eats excrement, was said to hang around these outhouses. Certainly, more than one young child was afraid to go to the toilet in the middle of the night out of fear of the Kra-Sui.
Kra Hung – This ghost appears, usually as a woman, with feathers and a tail like a bird. Kind of similar to a vampire, I understand that Kra Hung eats internal organs.
Banana Ghost – Again in the old days, rural houses often had a small area of banana trees growing near the house. When children would want to go out and play after dinner, they would be warned away from the banana grove by tales of the banana ghost, a nymph-like spirit that would haunt the trees.
Jackfruit Ghost – The English translation is incorrect here, although it attempts to convey the cultural message of the jackfruit ghost. When the boy asks, “Is that a jackfruit ghost?” the father actually answers, “No – a person.” The lost joke is that in the old days, prostitutes used to ply their wares in the trees along roads and parks, trees that often included jackfruit trees. When children would point out one of the ladies of the night and ask who she was, the answer from the unable-to-explain-prostitution parent would be, “That’s a ghost.”
Blue Ghost – The blue ghost is normally a woman, not a man, and isn’t blue in a “Blue Man Group” sort of way. Instead, it is just the name for another type of beautiful but frightening female ghost who dines on human flesh. Tracing how these ghost tales came about, it isn’t surprising that attractive, unmarried village women of a certain age might have been whispered to be blue ghosts or Kra-Sui.
Tall Ghost – To return after death as this ghost, as tall as a palm tree, gaunt in appearance and with a mouth only as large as a needle’s point, was the punishment for children who spoke ill of or abused their parents. Roaming the countryside the tall ghost would plead in a sorrowful voice that sounds like the wind blowing through the trees, for people to make merit for them so they could be released from their sins.
Thais love certainly love their ghosts!
The most famous Thai ghost, one not featured in this ad, is Nang Nak. Set in ancient Siam, Nang Nak is the young wife of a handsome villager who goes off with the army to battle the Burmese. She dies during childbirth but, longing for her husband to return, she and her infant’s spirit continue to inhabit their home.
When her husband Mak returns, he is initially unable to tell that anything is amiss, although to all the villagers the decay of the house is evident. The villagers try to warn Mak but Nang Nak takes her revenge on them.
Eventually, Mak discovers that his wife is a ghost – she drops something through the floorboards when preparing dinner and reflexively reaches for it, her arm stretching supernaturally to retrieve the item from the ground below the house. With the help of the village monks, Nang Nak’s spirit is eventually released so she can go to the next life.
The story of Nang Nak has been made into countless movies (including one that got some overseas play by director Nonzee Nimitbutr, a still from which is pictured above), an opera (which we watched about five years ago), and there were recently two different musicals based on the story playing simultaneously here in Krungthep.
Want to know even more about Thai ghosts? Check out this interesting entry (which I found after writing my own entry!) on the Paknam Web forum.
The New York Times ran an article about bento boxes, the Japanese style lunches in a box that seem to be gaining popularity with families in America. Talk about having fun with your food!
If ever there was someone who would appreciate his food being prepared this way, it is Tawn. Maybe that’s how I should start preparing his dinner?
You’ve seen them, those tattoos that people sport featuring words or characters in a language other than one in which they are fluent. You may even have one yourself. I’m telling you, though, that’s a mighty dangerous path to tread.
Leaving aside questions of cultural appropriation and exoticization (and there is some potentially rich academic soil to till about this issue), what I’m talking about is the plain and simple, practical reason to not get a tattoo in a language you don’t read: It may end up being incorrect.
Now, I know someone to whom this happened. Because of that, I realize that bright, intelligent, thoughtful people can make that mistake. And because I know that readers of this blog are equally bright, intelligent and thoughtful, I’m providing you this warning: Don’t get a tattoo in a language you don’t read!
Don’t believe me? Let’s consider this object lesson:
My friend Jack is a Thai who lives in the American midwest. Note that this is not a picture of Jack’s back. While he was on holiday, Jack spotted a young caucasian man with this tattoo and curious, asked him about it.
It seems that the young man, a native of Springfield, Missouri, was a basketball player and he went on some program to Thailand where he played ball with Thai high schoolers and spoke to them about basketball and life in the U.S. Returning to Springfield, the young man decided to get a tattoo, using Thai script.
So far, so good. Glad to hear that Thailand made such a positive impression on him that he wanted to immortalize the Thai language on his skin.
The problem is two-fold:
First, there are two spelling mistakes. The words ไม and อยาง are both missing accent marks They should be ไม่ and อย่าง. As a tonal language, the use (or absence) of a tone mark can often alter the meaning of Thai words. In this case, the misspelling does not change the meaning but simply makes the words incorrectly spelled.
Second, the phrase doesn’t say what he intends it to say. Based on the cross, I guessed he wanted the Christian phrase, “You will never walk alone.” When I asked Jack, he confirmed that this was the young man’s understanding of how the tattoo read. Jack, being Thai and characteristically too polite to embarrass someone, didn’t tell him that the tattoo says something else entirely.
The phrase reads khun ja mai duhn piang yang diaw, which means “You will never just only walk” – in other words, you will walk while doing something else at the same time, perhaps chewing gum or humming or whistling.
No word on how the young man managed to get this incorrect translation. My guess is he thought it would be cool and asked someone he met in Thailand – someone who doesn’t understand English well enough – to write the phrase in Thai. Given what I’ve learned while living here, I can see how “alone” could have easily been misunderstood as “only just”.
So let this be fair warning to you, your friends or family members. If you or someone you love is planning on getting a tattoo, stick with a language you can read so you are 100% certain that the tattoo says what you think it says.
Every so often, I encounter a book whose author has managed to give voice to feelings I have, points I want to articulate, and perspectives I want to share. Fareed Zakaria’s “The Post-American World” is one such book.
As an American citizen living outside of the United States for an indefinite period of time, I’ve been privileged to gain a lot of perspective on the world as a whole and America’s position in it. Both living here as well as in Hong Kong a decade ago, I’ve seen things that make me want to run back to my fellow countrymen, shake them by the shoulders and deliver the message: The world is different than we thought!
Much like the ancients who thought the world was flat or that the Sun orbited the Earth, Americans are largely convinced that the United States is the most important country on the planet. Yes, America is the “most” in several different measures, but the ugly truth is… that doesn’t make us the most important country. There are other countries out there and their importance relative to their size, economic output, military power, etc. is definitely on the rise.
I won’t launch into a sermon about how Americans need to get their heads out of the sand and better understand what’s happening in the world. Suffice it to say that Americans need to get their heads out of the sand and better understand what’s happening in the world. Zakaria’s book is a good, balanced place to start.
Zakaria, who was born and raised in India but has lived in the United States for a quarter century, is the editor of Newsweek International. In his book, he describes “the rise of the rest” – the political and economic ascendance of countries such as China, India, Brazil, South Africa, Russia and Kenya. He does not write about the fall of America, but rather how America’s position as the sole superpower will become a lot less lonely, and what that means for America.
The short answer is: we need to get real and get our act together. This rise of the rest presents enormous challenges and enormous opportunities, if we are willing to recognize and act on them.
If I may, let me share one short excerpt that particularly spoke to me. This is from his concluding chapter titled “American Purpose” in which he presents six guidelines for America to operate successfully in this new, post-American world. One point he makes that particularly resonates with me:
“America has become a nation consumed by anxiety, worried about terrorists and rogue nations, Muslims and Mexicans, foreign companies and free trade, immigrants and international organizations. The strongest nation in the history of the world now sees itself as besieged by forces beyond its control. While the Bush administration has contributed mightily to this state of affairs, it is a phenomenon that goes beyond one president. Too many Americans have been taken in by a rhetoric of fear.”
I encourage you to seek out and read this book. It is incisive and well thought-out, drawing on the lessons of history and steering clear of partisan ideologies. I hope you enjoy it.
Settling back into the routine here in Krungthep, I’m reminded why I carry my camera with me most everywhere I go. There is always something interesting to see. On Wednesday I had to run some errands. I drove to the Ministry of Labor to retrieve my work permit book, the address of which I had modified to reflect the “annex” unit we bought next door to our condo. Then I continued to the post office to mail wedding thank-you cards. Next I headed to UOB Bank to drop off some paperwork. Finally, I stopped at Emporium mall to have some pho at Little Hanoi restaurant.
While sitting in traffic on Sukhumvit Road, I noticed something odd about the cement truck in front of me. Dangling between the rear wheels was a dirty pink stuffed animal, akin to an Ugly Doll but probably not a branded one. I’ve seen this before. In fact, about a year ago I was noticing this on cars and trucks of all types here in Krungthep. To this day, though, nobody with whom I’ve spoken has an explanation. Why would you tie a stuffed animal at the back of your vehicle?
From the carpark at UOB Bank (the Sukhumvit 25 branch), I snapped this picture of an unfinished hotel. This is supposed to become a Crowne Plaza property at the corner of Sukhumvit Soi 27 but the developer halted construction about six months ago, ostensibly in response to the lousy tourism market. It is very well-located, just a few blocks from the Asoke/Sukhumvit junction and the Skytrain and Subway stations there. to the right of the picture you can see the Windsor Suites hotel, managed by our friend Ben. Very nice hotel and also well-located. If you’re looking for a place to stay in Krungthep, I recommend it.
Tawn was very inspired by our trip to New York, taking careful notes on the styles and looks he saw on Manhattan’s busy streets. Above is one of his work outfits that he put together as a result of his inspiration. What do you think?
Speaking of New York, I returned from my 24-day trip to the US only to discover that a Dunkin Donuts kiosk has opened underneath the escalator connection from the Asoke Skytrain station to the Sukhumvit Subway station. See, the Big Mango is just like the Big Apple!
Since my return, I’ve resumed my twice-weekly classes with my Thai tutor, Khruu Kitiya. For the past two and a half years, we’ve been meeting at the same place, a small coffee shop and restaurant called Bitter Brown, also close to the Asoke/Sukhumvit junction. They make cute latte art, like the flowers above. After having been gone for nearly a month, the owner was a bit shocked to see me again. “We thought you must have graduated!” he said, upon seeing me.
No, I haven’t graduated. Although, Khruu Kitiya is suggesting it might be a good idea for me to take the government administered “Saab Bor Hok”, or Sixth Grade Examination. While it isn’t a requirement for me, this examination represents the level of linguistic skills the government expects for certain types of visa holders such as missionaries or those applying for permanent residency. The test, which lasts about five hours, has four parts:
Dictation of questions and multiple-choice answers, in which you have to indicate the correct answer on an exam sheet.
Reading of questions and multiple-choice answers, in which you have to indicate the correct answer on an exam sheet.
A writing section composed of two parts: Dictation of paragraphs which you have to correctly write on the exam sheet, and then the composing of a short essay based on a question or subject given during the exam.
An oral section in which you have to engage in a ten-minute conversation with an evaluator.
Khruu Kitiya’s assessment, with which I concur, is that the first two parts would be very easy for me, the writing section would be challenging (the essay would be harder for me than the dictation), and the oral section would be a killer. This is because the one thing I don’t spend much time doing is actually speaking with Thais, since I work from home and my work is in English. As she has suggested before, Tawn and I should probably start using Thai as the spoken language at home.
Contrast this with Jon, a 19-year old Canadian with whom we had dinner Thursday night. Jon first contacted me through this blog more than a year and a half ago, when he was on a one-year Rotary Club exchange program here in Bangkok. He finished that program and returned to complete his senior year in Edmonton, with the plan of returning to Bangkok after he has his university degree.
Jon spent most of his year here immersed with Thais – Thai students, Thai friends, living with a Thai family. Then on this current two-month trip, the circumstances have been the same: all Thai, all the time. Needless to say, his spoken Thai is way beyond mine and I was humbled by the ease with which he and Tawn were able to converse. Clearly, there is still some work for me to do!
The good news is, the “Saab Bor Hok” isn’t until the end of November, so I have time to prepare for it as well as time to decide whether or not I even want to take it at this time.
View from my balcony on Friday late afternoon. We’re in rainy season and there were some spectacular storms this week. The best part about it, in my opinion, is the way these awesome (and I mean that in the original sense of the word) clouds form: huge, complicated things that build into dark, angry towers. They are amazing to watch.
Lots of cooking to update you on in the next entry.
Several years ago I worked with a man named Mik. Mik was a trainer on my team and he had this fantastic spoonerism he would share during a week-long training class. He told it during the section about effective communication, although its primary purpose was to serve as a mid-week tension breaker. Try reading it and see if you don’t enjoy it.
The Tale of Rindercella
Once upon a time in a coreign fountry, there was this girl named Rindercella. Rindercella lived with her Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters. In this coreign fountry there was also a Pransom Hince and he decided to have a bancy fall, inviting all the stabulous and fylish pich reople from riles amound.
When the Mugly Other and the two Sad Bisters received an invitation to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, they were so excited they nearly dell fown in their rush to mo to the gall and buy some dancy fresses and shancy fooes. When Rindercella asked if she was also invited to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, her Mugly Other laughed and said, “Wo nay! You have to hay stome to hean the clouse.”
The dig bay came and as Rindercella’s Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters were leaving in their dancy fresses and shancy fooes for the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, Rindercella just crat down and sied!
She was kitting there a scrien’ when sall of a udden, Rindercella’s GaisyModFather sopped onto the pene and he asked…”Girl, cry are you whying?” Rindercella niped her wose and, thearing her cloat, answered “Because my Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters have gone to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall and I’m not invited because I have to hay stome and hean the clouse!”
Well, realizing that an injustice had been done, Rindercella’s GaisyModFather turned a cumbkin into an polden goach and six whice mite into hancing prorses, and told Rindercella, “Girl… you better be home by nidmight.”
When Rindercella arrived at the Pranson Hince’s bancy fall, the Pransom Hince wecretly satched at her from behind a widden hindow and, seeing her punning steauty, he lell in flove. The two of them nanced and nanced all dite when sol of a udden, the slock clucked nidmite! Rindercella staced down the rairs and when she bleached the rottom, she slopped her dripper.
As you can guess, the Pransom Hince found the slass glipper and decided that the very dext nay he would set about his rather’s koyal findom to find the fady’ss loot that the flipper would slit.
When the Pransom Hince came to Rindercella’s house he tried the sass glipper on first the Mugly Other and you know it fidn’t dit. Then he tried the sass glipper on the two Sad Bisters’ felly smeet, and again, it find’t dit. Finally, he tried the sass glipper on Rindercella’s foot and fid dit, and the two of them heaved leverly after effter.
So the storal of the morey is…If you every go to a bancy fall and want to lull in fove with a Pransom Hince, you’ve gotta slop your dripper!
Fallen Princesses
Along the same lines, there is a fascinating photo series by Vancouvery photographer Dina Goldstein titled “The Fallen Princesses Project“. Bristling against the beauty myths that Disney perpetuates through their “princesses” series, she imagines “happily ever after” being replaced with a more realistic outcome that addresses current issues.
Above is Cinderella, sitting alone in a dive bar, drinking. The other images in the series are much more provocative, but I won’t steal Goldstein’s thunder by reproducing them here. Please go visit the article at the JPG Magazine website.
Los Angeles area. Twice I’ve moved away.Despite this, I find myself returning from time to time to see what has changed.In some ways, little has. Los Angeles is an enigma, the literal expression of a Tinseltown ideal. But there are some signs of change, interesting ones. I think of the gentrification of post-World War II housing in the cities surrounding Long Beach, units that were sold to bachelor soldiers and new families working at the Douglas Aircraft plant in the late 1940s and 1950s as Southern California experienced its post-war boom. I think of an increase in community events such as farmers’ markets and street fairs. Slowly, I recognize signs of renewal, of things that were always so new that they seemed like facades on a movie set.
Perhaps the biggest strength of Southern California is the rich diversity here. Of all the places I’ve lived in the US, I’ve most noticed that creeping change brought about by immigration here. When I first lived here nearly twenty years ago, there were certainly many different cultures present, but it has been wonderful to see how those cultures have blossomed, become increasingly visible and become such a part of the Southland fabric. Not living here anymore, it is hard to say how integrated those different cultures have become.But their visibility is a first measure of health.
Despite that, I don’t know if I would enjoy living here again. The weather is nearly ideal, yes, but it is still too suburban and sprawled an area for my tastes. Despite the buses and bicyclists, signs that there are at least some alternatives to individual car ownership, it is an example of that American dream that existed hand-in-hand with the post-war era: a dream that promised prosperity, growth and limitless consumption. A dream that gave everyone a sunny optimism and friendly, if plastic, demeanor while isolating everyone in their steel and glass bubble, ensuring no real connection.
This critique isn’t just about Los Angeles, of course.It is symptomatic of American culture in general, a good example of what I don’t appreciate much about life here and what I don’t miss about it.
It is easy to get caught up in the list of the things I don’t like, easy to identify the reasons that I don’t live here anymore. It is worth the effort, though, to categorize the things that are positive about the Southern California culture. There is an admirable optimism here that contrasts markedly with the nearly fatalistic outlook of the society where I currently live, one that believes fate, chance and inescapable karma have pretty much written your destiny. There is a continual push here, even amidst the congestion and traffic, to improve the quality of living and the breathability of the air.These are no small things.
Maybe these are just the musings of an expat, required every time I cross the border from current home to previous. Required because I have to understand why I no longer live where I once did. Required because – a common theme of long-term expats – I cannot help but to feel a bit of alienation in my homeland, a sense of being set apart from the rest of the society in which I was raised.
Time, then, to set those musings aside, turn on the radio of my rental car, and make my way to the local In-n-Out Burger for a double double, animal-style, with grilled onions.
Returning to the subject of Thai culture, there is an interesting series of print advertisements running in the BTS Skytrain stations. These are for Woys Crackers, a cheese-flavored cracker sandwiched with a butter-like spread. The ads have some clever wordplay, which is a common feature of the Thai language.
These are the cracker’s normal packaging. It shows a group or friends or siblings laughing. The script reads “Woys: with creamy butter” and “creamy butter” is actually a phonetic translation of the English words. If you want to sound Thai, accent the second syllable of both words: “Cree-MEE But-TUH”.
As their spokesman, the manufacturer has hired the biggest movie and TV star in Thailand, a comedian named Petchtai Wongkamlao (pictured below) who goes by the stage name Mum Jokmok. His nickname, “Mum” (หม่ำ) is a funny word for “eat”, kind of describing how a child might eat food.
Mum Jokmok is the hardest working man in Thai showbiz right now, producing an endless stream of films. He has a very expressive face and a gift for physical comedy. Playing off the meaning of his name, the ad reads “Mum Woys” – both his name and the name of the crackers, as well as “Eat Woys”.
The series of billboards continues in a spoof of the original packaging, in which he plays, with the help of some clever photoshopping, all three of the characters in the photo.
That must answer the question – they are siblings rather than just friends, right? But how does the mother look?
That question is answered in another billboard, where we see that the mother is another actor and Mum is the father as well as the children. The tag line: “Eat Woys together with the family.”
Thai advertising is generally clever (although prone to a bit of base humor) and this is a good example of it.
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