25 April 2014

Annual Immigration Run

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This morning Tuk and I successfully completed my annual Extension of Stay in the Kingdom based on Retirement (i.e., my annual retirement "visa renewal").  It is the major headache of the year, with Immigration usually throwing unexpected new requirements at us each year.  Our running list of paperwork requirements has grown quite large, so we arrive with reams of paper -- copies of everything we can think of, and more, in duplicate.
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After we presented our paperwork to the official's satisfaction, she told us to wait in the general seating area while she stamped everything properly.  Another American guy was right in line before us, and the official was processing both our passports and papers at the same time, in order to use all the different rubber stamps in order.  As I watched, I thought:  she could easily mix up our paperwork.
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Sure enough, I saw her pick up the other guy's passport while working on my papers.  (My passport is a bit ragged from marching around with it in the humidity and rain, and it stands out.)  She was comparing numbers and then got a very confused look on her face.  It took a few seconds, but then she reached for my passport and got it right.  (I must say in her defense, that's got to be a boring job.)
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I re-checked that all the stamps were correct, and then we were good to go.  This may have been the smoothest annual Extension of Stay trip we've ever done, with only a bare minimal of domestic strife in the long buildup to this, the year's major stressor.
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Years ago we had to go deep into downtown Bangkok to an Immigration Office, and when finished we would hit the Hard Rock Cafe for a cool drink with lunch.  But now we must go out into the wilds of outer Nonthbaburi.  Getting a taxi to take us out and wait is a major task, but a very good tip will have the driver telling us to call him again next year.
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Returning, I went out for groceries and walked my favorite 2.5k loop by the river at a brisk pace.  Of course, it was "...out in the midday sun."  Like a mad dog, it was exactly noon.  It is 100 degrees F.  I think I'm done for the day.
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-Zenwind.
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22 April 2014

Fashionista Rebels

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It is interesting how fashion has evolved amongst the current anti-government movement here in Thailand.  The visit of their leader, Suthep, into our neighborhood today was fascinating.  He walked by on the street just below my window while greeting his local fans.  I got to rub shoulders with some of these fans later, and I think I’m belatedly witnessing an intriguing emergence of a new “style,” a kind of polite quasi-guerilla chic that is getting very intense.  It’s a bit like the earlier Red Shirt style, but not as hick or thuggish, kind of an urban pose that really does have some authentic cool. 
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Some background:  The anti-government movement is primarily an anti-Thaksin one, and it only exploded into vast numbers late last year when the present government – a puppet government directed by the exiled convicted fugitive Thaksin and headed by his majority-elected sister – tried to sneak through a complete amnesty bill at 4am, a bill that would have erased Thaksin’s own corruption convictions. 
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This anti-government push is mainly a middle-class movement of outrage at this – with the traditional ossified conservative elite giving it their blessings while themselves lacking the guts to march in the streets.  (Thailand’s politics is much more complicated than can be explained here.) 
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It is sweltering here now during our Hot Season.  It was 100 degrees F today, without even factoring in the unbelievably hellish humidity.  This morning I got the rumor that Suthep would be visiting EGAT, the electric company headquarters next to us.  Out of my window I saw his fans waiting for him and trying to get into whatever shade they could – not that it helps that much.  Suthep finally arrived, greeting people just like he is often shown on TV.  There was happy Thai music and an air of celebration. 
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Important note:  Suthep’s once-huge protest crowds have been decreasing remarkably since last year.  Some of that might be because of the heat and the lack of results, but it is more probably because his rhetoric and policy statements have, in time, been veering toward the weird. 
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Originally, he championed the Rule of Law against unlimited majority caprice (reminding me of James Madison’s warning, in The Federalist Papers, against any unrestrained “tyranny of the majority”).  Suthep’s point that Thailand’s legal system needs radical reform is widely accepted, and the egregious corruption of the “Thaksin regime” has angered so many by its undisguised graft in the name of “populism.” 
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But now Suthep has uttered vague suggestions of “appointed” authorities (appointed by whom?) to reform the constitutional regime.  What in the hell does he mean?  Does he want to have himself appointed the Great Lawgiver?  (Many Red Shirts suspect that.)  What are his proposals?   Rule of whose Law?  (That’s a question.)  His vision is nebulous, and his credibility has plummeted even amongst the native Thai, Western-educated analysts here who had once championed him. 
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Back to fashion.  In the early Suthep-led protests late last year, I saw middle class folks in their normal office work clothes:  women in skirts or suits and men in slacks and sports shirts, if not in more formal suits with ties.  In the early mass marches throughout Bangkok, one could see this same dress code as protesters left their jobs at noon lunch break and/or after hours – after all, these were professional working people. 
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Today I saw a difference.  For one thing, it’s hotter.  For another, as the former vast numbers of protestors has dropped, these remaining are the Hard Core.  They’ve been marching throughout Bangkok for months, never giving up, and now it’s hotter than blazing Hell.  I had to go out in the heat today to buy bags of ice and beverages, so I mixed with the protestors and their “Guards” on my normally un-crowded local sidewalks. 
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The “Guards” in the anti-government movement are self-appointed security people who guard Suthep against being kidnapped by government forces or hurt by Red Shirt thugs.  They all have a distinct aura of “cool,” dressed mostly in black, sometimes with fashionable (and expensive!) bullet-proof vests. 
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(Shit! I’m dragging my sorry ass, sweating buckets in the heat, and these folks are often wearing black long-sleeved jackets in the sun!  I really must be an alien.) 
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The Guards sport a lot of black military-style boonie hats, fighting harnesses, and combat boots, and often they have some kind of walky-talky radios with big antennas clipped at their shoulder.  Awesome!  They swagger around and are, without a doubt, the coolest kids on the block. 
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I must admit that the Guards were also rather polite, which surprised me.  I was an overheated farang, blinded by sweat, stumbling along the sidewalk with bags of ice, and it was hard going for me because it was so densely crowded with Guards.  (I’m usually a solitary walker who walks fast on empty sidewalks and avoids crowds.)  One Guard saw my plight and engineered a path for me, telling his buddies that someone needed to get through.  Quite gentlemanly of him. 
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But the height of contemporary protest-chic fashion was witnessed later when the rally broke up and everyone was heading home in the heat.  The hard core rally folk were more colorful, but were primarily dressed in practical clothing for the long hot day.  Blue jeans or fatigues were the norm, even for all the ladies, and shirts were often of brilliant colors and offbeat cut.  They reminded me of latter day hippies, but not nearly as pathetic as the Greenwich Village pseudo-freaks in the late 60s where all the colorful plastic people posed and pranced all about.  These were serious protestors in for the long haul and dressing for the weather (like authentic children of the Earth). 
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Sun protection was all-important.  Everyone had some kind of head covering, and this really distinguished the veteran protestor from the raw boot of yesterday.  Stylish cowboy hats were common, usually light colored and very wide-brimmed.  Many people had towels over their heads and necks to block sun and to soak up sweat.  (This reminds me of my first day in Vietnam, seeing Marines wearing boonie hats with towels around their necks, struggling on under the tropical sun.)  Many today looked like colorful Arabs.  One guy  had a baseball type hat with a beautifully colored cannabis leaf cluster in front, and it sparkled in the sun.  (Is there a more broadly libertarian element here within this mix that I don't know about?) 
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Boonie hats, sometimes colorful but mostly brown/ olive drab, often had colorful sweatbands tied around them.  I can definitely relate.  I don’t usually wear a hat when out and about, but if it really hits the fan and I must, I often wear a camo sweatband under my broad-brimmed boonie hat.  I guess I’m just not as fashionable as these hipsters.  I must be getting old. 
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Many of these folks looked like gypsies.  The lady protestors each had uniquely colorful combinations making up their sun-hats, and everyone was making an individual fashion statement.  Or perhaps they were also trying to beat the heat as best they could while they trudged on toward their political ideal.  Gotta hand it to them.  It was something to see. 
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-Zenwind.

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13 April 2014

Songkran 2014 CE/2557 BE

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Songkran is the traditional Thai/Lao New Year, in the hottest part of the year.  At dawn, I wake up almost naked with nothing but the relief of a strong electric fan, yet sweat pours from my brow.  Sweat City – no respite. 
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Traditionally, water is poured upon the hands of elders and on Buddha images to relieve the heat.  But in recent times Songkran has become an epic water fight amongst youngsters with gallons dumped on anyone within range.  It is too hot to go out, but if I must go out for ice and drinks I dress down for a possible drenching.  Recent years have not been as wet locally as in the past – mainly because of frequent political crises – but one never knows. 
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Our ice supply will last through tomorrow dawn, but I will have to go out for resupply after that.  The unforgiving tropical sun. 
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Blessed coolness.  Zen delight. 
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Happy Birthday to Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), my hero.  “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” 
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-Zenwind.

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