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Flâneuring Through The Streets of Thailand: Part 2

A small tale of courtesy(another tale about the flâneur)

Being in a foreign country, especially one that neither speaks the language you know, nor understand the supposedly lingua franca of the region, the English Language, has led to many misinformation, aimless wanderings and the brain working over-time to decipher the oddities, cultural différence and general practices of its people.

I found myself in this particular quandary during my journey through the colourful and historically rich country of Thailand. Having come from an equally colourful and historically rich neighbouring country down south, I little thought that I would be encumbered with whatever differences that would arise, since our two countries share similar pre-state and early civilization histories. My university mates and I had decided to embark on a road trip to Thailand, while awaiting our final examination results. Our point of departure was the main bus station in the capital city of Kuala Lumpur. That was the beginning of both our adventures and the mishaps we met along the way, in particular myself. After a brief stop in Haadyai to refresh ourselves with food and to charter a van, we embarked on a lugubrious 12-hours ride to Phuket. It was steaming hot, we were packed like sardines in a can and tempers were almost raw. The torturous journey came to an end when we finally found our hotel in Phuket itself, and that was after much wrangling among ourselves and with a local travel agent to finally decide on the one that we like. Being a tourist in a decidedly tourist hotspot made us vulnerable to mendacious hawkers, avaricious tradesmen and wily tuk-tuk drivers (tuk-tuk is like a mini army-jeep, the Thai alternative to a taxi), that being made worst for being mistaken for Japanese, Hong Kongers or Singaporeans (these groups are thought to have huge spending power). But the kind major-domo of the hotel (or motel) that we stayed in helped us negotiate for a fair price when we had to take one of the tuks-tuks from where we were staying and he even introduced us to a most wonderful seafood restaurant away from the hype of the town and hence rather cheap compared to the over-priced food in the town centre. The food was extremely good, and the seven of us gorged ourselves silly with drinks, 9 different dishes and rice. The best thing about this hotel that we had stayed in, despite it being more utilitarian than ornate, is the free supply of bottled waters (something which you are always in need of in a climate that is always extremely hot). This was something I realised I should not have taken for granted, for at our Bangkok hotel, we were only allowed two free bottles of water a day (split myself and another for my room-mate) and would be charged for extras. However, it was extremely expensive to use the Internet there, or anywhere else in Phuket, and the connection is slow as well (as I found out).

Being rather adventurous and impatient with planned itinerary, I spent most of my stay in Bangkok (having by then feeling myself sufficiently adept to the country, even if not the language) flaneuring on my own, sometimes seeing my friends either only at night or for breakfast (with its limited and often repetitious choice of food), though we still visited the outskirts of Bangkok together. Despite being equipped with a map, I still found myself in need of directions when getting around the city. This was of course hampered by my inability to say more than a few words (or understand more than a narrow margin of words) in Thai. On my first day, I managed to order a decent breakfast with a mix of bad Thai and sign language. Being sun-burnt from my stay in Phuket, I could well pass for a Thai (having nearly similar dusky skin), but when I spoke, it gave me away as a foreigner. I decided to visit the University of Chulalongkorn and its surrounding township. That was when I found out that a majority of the Bangkok Thais either do not speak English, or speak very little English, and that includes the students and staff of the august university. However, I am impressed by their efficiency and helpfulness, like their willingness to help me, even when I ventured into one of their offices after hours.

Having wondered into the tree-lined compound of the university, I tried to look for the campus ground that houses the main library. However, I found myself instead in the medical library (due to my ability to read the Thai signs at the entrance). The librarian was very helpful but as she could not converse properly in English, she sought the help of a student to direct me to the place I was looking. It was of course frustrating for the both of us, as I was trying hard to comprehend him and he was struggling to help me comprehend, but I finally got the gist of what he was saying, much to our mutual relief. It turned out that the library is located a bus ride away, on a separate campus ground. However, I still had to walk about a lot, made intuitive guesses and further questioned the waiting students at the bus stand but I finally got the right bus, despite disembarking too early after that.

That was of course, not the end of my problems. Thais are generally very friendly and willing to help, even when they did not understand what is required. On that same day, still wandering about alone, I wanted to take a bus back to my hotel, after having watched a French music concert at the Park (which was held in conjunction with Bangkok’s 100 years celebration as a modern city). I of course was unsure of which bus to take, as the map I had gave rather confusing information. I tried asking the conductor and driver of the bus I board, but they could understand neither my map nor myself. Apparently, some Thais have no idea that their city council have changed the names of the roads around the city or Romanised the names, hence the confusion. They even tried to get a female passenger to help me, but that was also to no avail. I stopped at the nearest bus stand and decided to speak to the ticketing master of a ticket stand. He stared uncomprehendingly at my map. He even motioned over a woman to help him but that just led to two people, instead of one, staring uncomprehendingly at the map. After 15 minutes, I tried to motion to them that I will try to guess my way through, they were adamant in still trying to help me (or perhaps they did not comprehend what I said). After more than 20 minutes of futility, I decided to set off again. Of course, after lighting the bus, I walked in the wrong direction in the dark (which was rather scary, coming to think of it) but a traffic-policeman on duty at a road in front of an Embassy (I was at the road where all the Embassies are) redirected me back to the correct way.

The next morning, my friends and I set out to visit the floating markets of Damoen, outside Bangkok. We boarded a pre-dawn bus, slept on our way there and finally reached the market 90 minutes later. We had a fun time sitting in a canoe that carried us down the river, snapping photographs, shopping, looking through the wares, trying out their delicacies and avoiding persistent hawkers. But my trouble begun when we arrived back in Bangkok. I had decided to board a separate bus home while my friends wanted to go shopping (main reason being that I was both tired and wanted to clean up). Unfortunately, I took the wrong bus (yet again) and found myself in a totally unfamiliar spot in Bangkok (which look a little like some of the old towns in Malaysia). Either the place wasn’t that alien nor forbidding, I did not feel any panic. Instead, I walked calmly to the streets, trying to make sense of where I was from the map. To my relief, I spotted a few traffic-policemen on duty at a busy junction beneath a flyover. The fact that they might be corrupted or are bad apples did not cross my mind at that time.

Most of them could not speak English, so they directed one of the policemen, a young man of dusky complexion and of Indo-Malay features to speak to me. He was very helpful, and showed me where I was from my map, and that I was very far indeed from my hotel (now I am beginning to feel a rising panic). He chatted lightly with me, asking me about myself. He seemed a little aghast that a tourist like me, and a young girl too, should be walking around alone. He asked my age and asked after my travelling companions. He told me that he too originated from Kuala Lumpur, but that his family moved here while he was still little. I could well believe him for he did not really speak Malay, but instead spoke fluent Thai (despite looking every inch a Malay). He told me what bus number that I should take. But he also told me stay there with them while he looks out for the bus for me. In the meantime, I got to see how bad the traffic in Bangkok was and how the policemen did their duties up close (in contrast to having witness them while in a car or some other vehicle). The other policemen were curious about me, but they did not attempt to communicate with me, knowing that language is a barrier for us. The kind Malay policeman (whose name I’ve forgotten, unfortunately) spoke to me about my itinerary and about the terrible Bangkok traffic. He told me that he could have given me a ride back to the hotel himself, had it not been the fact that he had to be on duty then. Or perhaps he sensed that I might be uncomfortable with that arrangement. After what seemed like ages (I was beginning to wish that I had not decided to separate from my friends), the bus we were both waiting for arrived. He spoke briefly to the driver, while motioning me to board the bus. I thanked him for his kindness and boarded the bus. The bus driver looked at me and nodded at the young policeman. I settled down with relief as the bus moves off. At intervals, I looked out anxiously at the streets and buildings. I even asked a girl who was sitting next to me, where to get down.

After half an hour or more (due to the incessant traffic), the bus slowed down at the stop nearest to my hotel and the driver bade me to get down. I thanked him and slid down, walked as fast as I could to the hotel (this time no longer in the wrong direction), got my keys from the receptionist on duty, got to my room and did my ablutions. I also decided to have a soak in the tub, since my roommate was not back yet. I let myself go and luxuriated in the soapy foam, while waiting for my friends to come home. But they weren’t to be home yet for some more hours so I decided to explore the Siam Square, which is the township near the varsity I have visited, alone once again, at night…