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FINE PROSE The “Frang” in Thailand tends to appear a spoiled child of extremes, and requires long years of soaking in this sauna of civilization before he learns to sweat with remorse for his former back-slapping, barbarian frankness. Considering that being “Frank” is what a “Frang” should be all about, there may be a lot of blood in that sweat.  “First come, first served” is by Thai standards not really order at all, for the sequence is admittedly random. What we perceive as the system’s prime virtue, an accidental semblance of fairness to all, many Thais see as a galling perversion of the natural order in which the best go first. In a crowd of supposed equals, such as at a bus stop, everyone is “best”, and so each is permitted a secret contempt for his or her fellow travelers. Hence the scrambling, the jostling, the surprising rudeness of Thais who can act so blindly because there is in fact no one worth seeing. Equality is next to nullity. Thais have two maxims to describe the state of marriage. At first, it’s kao mai, pla man - the rice is fresh, the fish tastes fine, and everything is hunky-dory. Then one day the newlyweds wake up and find that they can’t stand being downwind of each other’s face. So it’s kao but, pla ra - bad rice, rotten fish, and a lot of cooking has to be done to overcome that conjugal after-taste. In the meantime, the onslaught of fast food and eat-out values is definitely not helping the Thai divorce rate. Is life fair? No, but why should it be? Only the unexamined life is worth living. Your typical Thai does not look at life; she lives it. Life is not something to be legislated, but to be indulged in. Life and Justice are like two estranged sisters, one promiscuous and the other proud, who refuse to speak when they meet on the street. They seldom do meet. Justice takes the bus; Life rides around on a motorcycle with its muffler half off. Reality, in the Thai universe, is a baneful, chaotic, and oppressive power. The Thai laughs to forget that threat, the potential pain, the final grim sentence of silence. While voice and verve are yet his, he scoops up skillfully the bright froth on the top of life, taking care not to disturb the dark liquid below. And that lightness of hand itself can be fun. When a Western teacher tries to generate intellectual discussion, i.e. to impose his idea of what thought should be, in a classroom of free-floating Thai minds, he is already far too focused. His task is equivalent to driving a dump truck through a field of whipping cream - he never gets enough traction. [Essay Title] MONEY: Those Unbelievable Bargains in Abasement TV has its segments, radio its spots, and the press its daily layout jigsaw. Reality is regularly and triumphantly broken down into comprehensible units. The mind is fed in bits and pieces not because it works that way but because that is the only way the media can make money. |
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