Someone finally tries to bribe ME!

Okay, well, sort of. During my few years in Thailand, I believe I have handed out a total of three bribes (two in Thailand, one in Burma). That's about one a year. Not too bad, I guess. Still I usually carry a 100 baht bill (about $2.50) in my pocket when on my motorcycle just in case. You never know.

So, I'm eating at one of my favorite "farang" or foreign food restaurants. I've gone a few too many times, especially since the manager greets me with a warm greeting of recognition and informs the waiter to put me in my usual table. After a typically satisfying meal, the waitress, who has been especially attentive, brings me the check. She happily announces that she has deducted 10%. Thinking this was just part of the frequent-eater-appreciation comments I'd been getting that day, I smiled and told her how nice that was, thank you, etc. etc. Then she promptly plunks down a piece of paper and a pen next to me.

It takes me a moment to realize just what exactly this is -- a ballot. Ahhhh okay. *mild amusmant, though no surprise*

It's for one of these "Best Restaurant of " that you have in nearly any city over 10,000 people in the world. The waitress kindly pointed out exactly where I could fill in the name of her restaurant and informed me how she'd happily collect my ballot as soon as I'm finished.

*snicker*

Is my integrity worth 10% off of some chicken fingers and french fries (and a damn fine fruit smoothie!)? Not exactly, but it did give me the opportunity to vote for a lot of my other favorite restaurants (like the fantastic "Bourbon Street Grill" for Cajun food). And yes, this bribing "American" restaurant was one of my favorites as well. Why else would they greet me like Norm in Cheers?


Quickie Book Review: The Four Feathers by A.E.W. Mason

I really enjoyed this book, written surprisingly back in 1905. Despite a) it's slow beginning and b) it's potential at first to be some boring, 'how glorious men, war, and camaraderie are' book! It does have that whole "honor Honor HONOR!" theme suffocating you throughout, and the romantic aspects in it are a bit idealistic, but in the end, it is still a beautiful book about personal redempetion, zen-like patience in achieving a noble goal, and maybe the most realistic part -- overcoming the anvil-like issues our parents can thrust upon us. I recommend it! I've already acquired a copy of the film, which in the trailer seems fantastically different from the book (sigh), but still am anxious to see it (and still waiting for Pride and Prejudice to arrive too!).

My Lack of Moral Fiber

So yesterday I paid my second ever bribe here in Bangkok. Considering I've been here for nearly three years, and I daily ride a motorcycle all over the damn place (illegally), I consider that a bit of a triumph. That's kind of what happens to you here, you morals change. For many, they change dramatically. It's most interesting to me in Americans who are not aware of the intense sense of integrity that has been woven into their system through the years. "A bribe? What the fuck? What kind of backwards, corrupt place is this? Can't anyone DO something about this?"

The funny thing about morality is that it's really a facade, in my honest opinion. Whether you're a murderer or a priest, your morals are a very fragile thing. They can change much more easily than you'd ever think, and not because of some earth-shattering reason (someone's holding a gun to your head), but often, for something simple. My prime example: convenience.

That's the true reason most people pay bribes here. Simple convenience. You're stopped by a cop for some reason (and to be fair to the Thai police, the three times I've been stopped, I was breaking the law, though two of those times I didn't know it), and he tells you how he's going to write you out a ticket for like 400-1000 baht. Then you have to take the ticket to the police station (far away, and if you know anything about Bangkok, you know that it's a total hassle to do even the easiest things), where you will pay it there. You're sitting there in traffic, you're on your way to meet someone, go to work, etc. You flash 100 baht the policeman's way. At first he acts offended. After a few minutes of his striking several poses in your direction and looking over his shoulder to make sure other motorists are not gaping at him, he grabs the cash and waves you off. "Phew!" you whisper to yourself or to your passengers. "Glad that's over! Let's get out of here." The bribe is passed, you're on your way, and no thoughts of going to hell, bad karma, or the blackening of your soul crosses your mind.

Yeah, that's pretty much what happened to me. I was riding my motorcycle, with a friend on back, across the new Rama VIII bridge. Just on the other side is the infamous Khao San Road (a la Nasty Backpackersville) where several of us were meeting for an Indian meal. I was riding up up up the bridge, and after clearing the hump and coasting down, I saw him. The lone policeman next to his motorcycle, and directly in my path (the side margin of the road). I started going, "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." Usually I just avoid eye contact, but I'd have to run over him to get past him, so that plan wasn't going to work.

Yeah, he stopped me. He then told me that motorcycles weren't allowed on the bridge at all! Okay, that was a bit of a shocker. Not allowed on the bridge? Not that there aren't other bridges, but it's not like they're set real close together, and this was a brand new one. He told me it would cost 1000 baht. A hefty sum here! (about $23 USD and about 1/3 the monthly salary of about 60% of Thais). And damn it, we were already late (I had the guest of honor on the back of my bike), and people were already calling us on the phone and complaining).

With such a giant quote of the "ticket" I was to get, I knew the policeman wanted a bribe. That sum was way too inflated to be real. I fumbled into my pocket, all the while apologizing and trying to be charming enough to get myself off, until I pulled out about 140 baht and told him that's all I had. He kind of sneered and looked around nervously, but I knew it would do. Holding out it plainly on a busy bridge wasn't too inconspicuous, so I rolled it up and held it low. He looked around, struck his various poses, and then did a move that would have impressed David Copperfield. With a wave of his hand and flash of light, my money disappeared and the friendly policemen said he'd even escort us off the bridge for our trouble. Wow!

So, there it is. My second bribe ever (the first was for driving my motorcycle down a "bus only" lane). Do I feel bad? Truthfully, yeah, a little bit. I am perpetuating a corrupt system. Why? So, I can get to dinner a few minutes earlier and make the bad policeman disappear! *poof* But really, it surprises you when it's over. You kind of go, "that was it? My eternal damnation was that easy and that...dramaless?" Yeah, pretty much. There goes my "Get out of hell free" card.
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QUICKIE BOOK REVIEWS

Sweet Thames by Matthew Kneale - A
This is my new most favorite author in the world. By accident, I noticed my swelling bookshelves housed TWO books by him (chosen seperately at different times and bookstores). I went on to buy a third book by him. All are completely different and completely wonderful. Though none can top the greatness of his English Passengers, Sweet Thames is still a kick ass book of mid-19th century when the sewer problem of London was reaching epic nasty proportions and the infamous Cholera outbreak was on the verge of erupting. In the center of all this is an ambitous engineer and his own personal dramas. Historical fiction is always my favorite and this guy is fantastic. Academic and accurate without being too serious and dry. Entertaining and funny without being ridiculous. And with the ability to make yourself feel connected to the most unfortunate character in the book. Or is that just me?

To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf - D
THANK GOD I finished this damn book!!! Oh Virginia, I tried SO hard to like this book. I felt some sort of obligation since you stuck all those rocks in your pocket and marched with such determination into the sea, yourself. But god, this book SUCKS! I hate stream of consciousness! I hated how this book dragged on and on and on like some sort of slow moving nightmare. I hated this book even more than The Map that Changed the World, and that's pretty bad.

The Lady Tree by Christie Dickason - A
Absolutely loved this book (more historical fiction) about young Englishman with a dark past who is forced into hastily earning a sizeable fortune in the crazy world of investment in 17th century Netherlands. I love any historical fiction that shows me a time/place I don't feel too familiar with (and that's not hard), and this book fit in nicely. It was fun to read and very gripping in parts, making my heart feel clenched. Absolutely recommended (though the whole Lady Tree part seemed totally irrelevent, though I know there is a sequel that should deal more with the actual "lady tree").

The Lost Continent by Bill Bryson - B
A very fun and often totally hysterical book to read about a now Englishman's (American-born and raised) road trip throughout the U.S. Fun to read, though it does drag on a bit and start to feel repetitive.

36 Hours of Bribery, Philosophy, and Fireworks

Nothing political or philosophical to say here tonight, really. I just had a really good 36 hours and wanted to write it all down. Besides, since this works kind of as my personal journal, it's good to get it down for posterity, while I'm remembering it.

Late afternoon Friday I went in AGAIN for a "brush up" laser (LASIK) surgery. This is one of those things that goes under the "Great Things About Thailand" heading -- usually something that is cheap, MUCH cheaper than the United States. In this case, it was a long-time dream -- laser surgery. Just think, no more annoying contacts or frequently-broken and awkward glasses. Yes, it is cosmetic surgery. Absolutely. And I couldn't be more grateful and happy about it. Anyway, they did my left eye fine... (I could only afford one eye at a time), and then they did my right...not so fine. A bit fuzzy, harder to see at night. They can re-do it, which means another short, but terrifying operation. So, they re-did it, and well, it seems worse. How's that? Yahoo. Anyway, I slept for about 12 hours...and then it was Saturday.

On Saturday afternoon, after a brief visit with the doctor who was relieved not to see an infection, I got on my motorcycle for the long ride out to the ex-pat area. It was the 4th of July picnic held each year by the Embassy. As annoying as this may make my dear Mark, I love this thing. I went last year as well. I suppose, when you live in a foreign country, especially in an area that has almost no foreigners besides yourself, you start to feel like you're living in a parallel universe. Then suddenly you're in this isolated area, a cocoon of sorts (metal detectors this year! Americans and dependents only! Keep your guns at home!), and you're eating hot dogs and hamburgers off the grill and deep dish apple pie (all rare treats!). There's an awful band playing country versions of Jimi Hendrix, there's veterens, there's voter registration, and then of course, there's fireworks. More Americans than you can shake a stick at are there, and usually the greatest number of compatriots at one time and place I may see is a grand total of five. I guess it's a little comforting...because it's easy. I don't have to think about the language I'm speaking. I don't have to strain to understand what's said to me. I can talk fast. I know how to act, I know what distance to stand from people. It's easy. That's why. I liked it. I know that for some reason I'm supposed to feel guilty about that, about being comfortable. I blame grad school for that.

But my immorality doesn't stop there. On the long bike ride to the picnic, I did something totally illegal. I, along with another motorcycle rider, rode through the "bus only" lane. Why? Well, two reasons. One, I needed to be on a certain street, but unfortunately, it was only one way for a VERY long stretch. Buses, on the other hand, have their own private lane going the same way I wanted to go! As I saw one motorcycle driver turn and begin to piggy back a bus down this coveted lane, I decided, hey, why can't I do it too? The second reason? Well, one bad thing about my living in Thailand is that I have become "Thai" in the sense that I have used the bad things in this society and used them to my advantage. Hey, everone else breaks the law here too and doesn't give a shit, so why should I? Yes, I don't rise above. It's true.

Anyway, I, and my motorcycle law-breaking buddy, got caught. We were pulled over by a cop. Seeing as I don't have a driver's license here, and policemen who are widely known as bribe-taking machines and have a strong sweet tooth for the sugary wallet of foreigners, I was a bit....worried. But in the end, it was the same old story. "You you got to police station. Pay a lot of money. Go station! Bad!" And after my cute-and-stupid routine didn't work too well, he did his typical "Pay here, okay" hint, and I gave him 200 baht ($5). No one here is surprised or impressed (save that it's my first Thailand bribe). I don't know how I feel. Part dirty, part thrilled, part indifferent (can you be PART indifferent?), ... Anyway, I did the right thing. You put your small bills in your pocket, and you hide your big bills so the cops don't clean you out. I put my big bills in my book. They'd never check there.

After my fill of Americana, I went to a nearby theater and saw The Minority Report which I liked very very much, but thought it could have dealt quite a bit more with the whole philosophical issue of "I am the Master of my Fate, the Captain of my Destiny" (sic). But as Spielberg himself says, "I deal more with emotions," not the intellectual aspect (he said that comparing himself to Stanley Kubrick whom he said was the latter).

Of course, I stopped in the giant English bookstore and succumbed again to purchasing a couple books. I've already finished one of them...an American slightly tweaked version of Bridget Jones. Enjoyable but unremarkable (see book list).

Finally, late at night I leave and head to the basement where my cherished motorcycle, Sherlock, awaits. I'm stopped by an American guy who is absolutely shocked to see a white woman riding a motorcycle in Bangkok. It's true. Women are rare (except driving in their own neighborhoods from home to market), and I am the only female foreigner I've seen on a bike. I suppose I'm remarkable! Maybe just different. Yeah. Anyway, I got his card. He makes some pretty famous Bangkok maps here. He said he has a group that goes on motorcycle rides. Cool. I'll make a people connection. I've got to. I think I'm getting too comfortable at this alone thing, as much as I enjoy it. All you've read above, it was all done kon diao as the Thai would say, toute seule as the French would say, or ALONE as we'd say. Well, get your motor running!