Just a Day on the Job

Living through a revolution is a strange phenomenon. It is simultaneously the most boring and the most nerve-wracking experience imaginable. Most of one's time is time is spent shut safely and boringly indoors, with brief punctuations of panic caused by any sort of strange noise or suspicious burning smell coming from what I now call "The Outside." It is an absolutely terrible lifestyle if you value maintaining a steady heart rate most of the time.

Take yesterday-my first official day at work. Glad to get back to some sort of routine after weeks of navigating Bangkok's English-teaching job market (a ridiculously shallow process that requires you to send a "HOTT PIC" with your resumé... and I'm pretty sure sending the resumé is optional ...) I am sitting with the other teacher trainee in the staff room. Fellow Trainee and I have just enjoyed a leisurely lunch among the soldiers and barbed wire that line the street food stalls nowadays, and are awaiting instructions from our boss on how to do the next training activity. Boss-Man has been gone for a few minutes after being summoned by a front desk clerk, but this is Thailand, and having to wait around for people to do stuff or things to happen in general is pretty normal. So I'm cool. Maybe even teetering towards a state of boredom.

BAM! The door swings open and hits the wall with a smack, sending worksheets flying from desks and books tumbling from shelves. My boss darts in with a troubled look on his face. Oh boy. Here we go again.

"There may be a bit of a situation up the road," Boss-Man says, trying to keep his voice calm.

"What is it now?" Asks Fellow Trainee, shooting upright in his chair.

"There may or may not have been reports of a grenade ... andsomegunfire." Boss-Man adds, trying to tack the last few words on quickly so as not to alarm us. That's actually a pretty good tactic-by this point a grenade's not that big a deal, just spare us from the indiscriminate gunfire!

"So what should we do?" I ask, feeling the familiar pumping of blood as my heart rate begins to crank up to maximum speed.

"Well, we've sent an employee up the road to check it out ..." Says Boss-Man. Oh great. Talk about some quality employee treatment. Welcome to your new job, where they have no qualms about sending helpless reception staff into a possible war zone! Sign the employment contract now and receive a free bullet-proof vest!

"As for now, just stay put. Probably best to stay back here in the staff room. I'm going to go tell all the students not to leave the center, and I'll be back in a minute." Suuuuure. Back in a minute. See you in a couple hours, Boss-Man! If I even live that long!

... Fifty minutes later ...

"Well, false alarm!" Exalts Boss-Man, as he strolls casually back into the teaching room.

By this point, Fellow Trainee and I are looking up flights to Cambodia and debating different ways to get our stuff packed and shipped to us out of the country without having to actually go back to our apartments.

"Wait, what do you mean? We heard from the teaching assistants that there was smoke? And gunfire?!" Fellow Trainee chokes out.

"Oh yeah, not too sure actually. Some people think it was a tuk-tuk backfiring. Other people said there were some teens playing with firecrackers. Meh, what are you gonna do." Boss-Man shrugs with the casual nature of the jaded ex-pat, and settles down into his chair.

Fellow Trainee and I exchange glances. All the blood has pretty much drawn from his face, and his hands are shaking as clicks out of the "Book Now!" Page for our flight to Cambodia. We both force ourselves to look back at Boss-Man, who's waiting expectantly with the latest set of trainee handouts.

"So. Shall we continue? I think we were talking about the present continuous tense, and how to error correct a struggling speaker ..."

Heart rate settles back to normal ... Try to listen to information on present continuous tense ... and I'm back to being bored.







Just your friendly neighborhood soldiers, standing at post down my block. Passing these dudes is becoming part of the routine, and they are some of the nicest people you'll ever meet.

A Continued Division

Dearest Loyal Friends & Fam,

This blog entry is comin' at you from what may be the most heavily-guarded coffee shop on the planet! As I sit sipping on my "Coca Cola Light" (a revolution-interrupted job search has left me too broke to afford the usual mocha latte...but a 20-baht can of Coke still gets me unlimited WiFi access...YES), I am astounded by the irony of my current situation. On the other side of the glass windows that encase this particular air-conditioned "Coffee World" lounge are 20 Thai soldiers with loaded guns, looking simultaneously bored and anxious as they protect the hard-working bankers on their coffee breaks. And beyond these 20 soldiers are 1,500 additional troops lining the streets of Silom, the richest business district of Bangkok that I have been calling home for the last two weeks. It seems that by moving to the part of town that represents everything the protesting Red Shirts resent about the Thai economic and social order, I have actually enlisted the automatic protection of the Thai armed forces, and am probably safer than I would be living in a less-targeted part of town. A bit of an ironic deal, no?

But let me back up just a bit to explain my move to this new part of town. My old building was located in Pratunam, an area of the city connected to the Skytrain public transport system by a 20-minute walk through a central intersection known as Ratchaprasong. Now I'm all for a nice 20-minute walk every now and then. No biggie. But there was one slight problem- Ratchaprasong has been the central rallying point for the Red Shirts for four weeks now, meaning this farang had to scurry through masses of angry protestors just to be able to meet friends for dinner or go to the movies. On one particular day, I was left stranded in the Skytrain station above my exit, unable to get down because of riot fears on the streets below. Thus, I decided it was time to pack up and get the heck away from good ol' Ratchaprasong. A friend living in Silom was kind enough to take this refugee in for a few weeks, so I made the move and have been much happier over here.

Up until the last couple days, I have been able to lead a slightly more normal existence in Silom than I could in my old neighborhood. However, the recent influx of army troops on the streets is telling of the potential for some serious stuff to go down in my new neighborhood. Like I said, Silom is home to the "Old Money" of Bangkok, a section of society that is resented by the lower-class Red Shirts. Coming home from a trip to Phuket and the island of Ko Phi Phi yesterday morning, I had to work some serious charm to get the cab driver to take me to this part of Bangkok.

"Mai dai! Seu dairng!" ("Can't do it! Red Shirts!") was his argument.
"But I live there!" was mine.

So, after a brief back-and-forth, I convinced the driver to take me home. When we rounded the corner of Lumphini Park, about five minutes from my doorstep, I saw that his worries were definitely not unfounded. The Red Shirts have barricaded a major road outside Lumphini with concrete planters, and the army has taken up position on the other side of the intersection, blocking the entrance to Silom. As we rode down the street toward my house, we were greeted by huge piles of barbed wire and even more troops with their riot-shields out and ready. The Red Shirts had publicized their intent to invade this part of town, and the army has stepped up to protect the big money of BKK. And this leads me back to the present- army troops lining the streets, ready at a moment's notice to use their weapons on any Red Shirts who would be so bold as to cross into Silom. For the moment, the Red Shirts announced that they have cancelled their plan to march into the district, but what will actually happen remains to be seen.

That's all I can really say for now- we'll see. With a death toll of 25 people, and an injury count of 600, the situation over here has definitely crossed into some serious territory. The current situation in Silom represents on a small scale the greater division of the country: on one side of the road stand the impoverished people of the country, shouting over the shields of soldiers to men in suits and ties on the other side. Hopefully the line won't need to be crossed to find a resolution.

Ending on a slightly more serious note than my usual posts, I am sending my love to all of you, wherever you're reading this from. Keep watching the news and let's hope for a quick and peaceful end to this political turmoil.

-C

We've got ourselves a revolution

Ah, the big city on a Friday night. The lights are flashing, the music is pumpin', and people are on the move. Bangkok seems to be gearing up for another typical weekend of God-knows-what. On this particular Friday, however, things are feeling a little "off."

If you look closely, the flashing lights are actually beaming from the top of police trucks. And that music? Far from the newest Lady GaGa single, it is actually the anti-government anthem that the Red Shirt protestors have been blaring on loudspeakers for the last few weeks. As for people on the move, it isn't just a fashion coincidence that they all happend to be decked out in the same hue of crimson. Pretty sure they planned this particular fashion statement.

Because the international media seems to be squeezing Thai national headlines between ads for toilet paper and Ziploc bags, I find it my duty to let you all in on a little-known fact about this country: the sh*t has officially hit the fan. Anti-government Red Shirts have spread through the city like wildfire, and tonight is set to be the biggest demonstration yet. So instead of going out and celebrating my 23rd birthday in the city that never sleeps (except at random hours during the day-- stay tuned for a post on the art of the "spontaneous Thai nap"), I'm holed up in my room eating stale potato chips for dinner. To further illustrate what's happening in Bangkok, I'll put it into numbers (*due to laziness of this blog's author, there is no particular significance to the order of these numbers):


50,000: the approximate number of Red Shirt protestors who have gathered at the two major sit-in sites in Bangkok, cutting off a major business and shopping district and disrupting traffic flow throughout the already-congested city streets.

80,000: the number of police troops in position throughout the city, ready to take on Red Shirt protestors should things get "out of hand". (FYI: It's difficult to know whether numbers of police troops and protestors are accurate, as many sources are biased and aren't giving a clear picture of what's actually going on...)

10,000: The number of websites that have been shut down by the government, deemed to be spreading "inappropriate" matter that could lead to anti-government sentiment and demonstrations.

24: the number of Red Shirt leaders who have been issued with arrest warrants by the Thai government. More added to this list every day.

3: The number of days the city of Bangkok has been in a "state of emergency", as declared by Prime Minister Abhisit. This declaration clears the path for the government to use force to clear out the protestors should they refuse to move.

24: the number of hours that the People's Television Channel ("PTV", the Red Shirt's major vein for communicating with the masses) was shut off by the government. Red Shirts protested today at ThaiCom to get the television station turned back on, which brings us to the final number of...

22: the number of people who were injured during the Red Shirt ambush of ThaiCom this afternoon. These are the first injuries reported since the beginning of the protests, and a sign that things are getting heated.

I could keep going with the whole numbers thing, but for the sake of time and my own sanity let me state the obvious: something's gotta give. The Red Shirts are pushing for a dissolution of parliament, calling for election of a new prime minister within less than two weeks. Current Prime Minister Abhisit is pushing back with circular "conferences" between himself and opposition leaders that aren't getting anyone anywhere. He is determined not to use force, which is respectable. But when one has to dodge angry protestors just to buy water at the local 7-11, you know someone at the top isn't doing their job to control a national crisis.

I know what you're thinking: things are so heated, the only way to cool them down would be a good old-fashioned water gun fight. WELL YOU'RE IN LUCK!! Because next week we celebrate Songkran, the Thai New Year, with a nation-wide WATER FIGHT! Yes, that's right, every year for a week in April, Thai's get out their super-soakers and hit the streets to raise mayhem and get totally drenched. As the Thai's are not a group to miss a good celebration, the Red Shirts are expected to take a brief hiatus from a political revolution to lightheartedly splash their neighbors and opposing forces during this popular festival. I mean, I guess it makes sense- why fight for political change when you can soak your crabby landlord with ice-cold river water?

So, to re-cap the situation: today, it's rubber bullets and tear gas. Next week: super-soakers. Who knows what the week after will bring. All I know is, I really know how to pick a city in which to build a stable existence. Right?

-C