Bangkok Expat Mama

A Wedding in Lilliput

(When Khun Kris emailed P this photo, he gamely noted, "You guys sure are TALL.") Tonight Himself and I attended the wedding reception at the Four Seasons for Khun Kris, with whom P used to work, and his gorgeous, poised new wife, Khun Kay. The affair was perfect in every way that counts at wedding celebrations: The yummy tapas-style food was plentiful and delectable, and the very nice wine flowed; the small live band played terrific covers of pop and progressive hits from the past 20 years; guests mingled cheerily and, on the whole, looked terrific in impeccably tailored Thai silk ensembles, sharp suits, glamorous traditional Indian outfits, etc.; the toasts by the bride, groom, and various VIPs blended humour and sentimentality; and -- last but not least -- even the gi-nor-mous wedding cake tasted good!

This was my fourth hi-so Thai wedding in five and a half years. I found, this evening, that this time I didn't feel as nervous about the protocol and, weirdly exemplifying the smallness of Bangkok's hi-so scene, I actually knew many people from P's work and previous weddings or other events, and had many acquaintances in common with those whom I met tonight thanks to my freelance work and...well, the smallness of Bangkok's hi-so scene. ("Smallness." Henh. It's obvious I'm an editor by trade, eh? Hey, I'm tired, lay off!) Knowing how deeply to wai according to someone's status is coming more naturally to me now. Odd how that happens. Maybe the examples I've seen over the years have gradually penetrated my subconscious so that in the moment, my hands and head find themselves more quickly rising (hands) and lowering (head) the right amount.

There were many opportunities to wai at this reception. VIPs in attendance tonight included the head of Siam Commercial Bank, who is the mother of one of P's former colleagues (who also happens to be a fellow Kellogg alumna); the head of Kasikorn Bank, who gave the official VIP-representative toast; the coup government's Finance Minister (an extremely dapper man in a red bow tie); a very cute Thai soap opera actor (Channel 7), who helped with translating all the English toasts into Thai (our gorgeous acquaintance Khun Bum [no snickering!] translated Thai toasts into English); the groom's dad, who is the first ever non-Singaporean to head SingTel; and endless bubble-haired dowagers and dignified older fellows whose faces dot the pages of "Thailand Tatler" and "Living in Thailand" magazines. Wow. The sycophantic star-fuc*er in me looked on in awe. (That written with self-aware irony, mind you.) Oh, and I forgot to mention the adorable children: Never have I seen so many tiny little ones decked out in mini-tuxedos and mini-Cinderella dresses. Even a pint-sized Batman was racing around the buffet tables. We left our smallfry at home because it's a school night, but with hindsight I'm sure that if we'd let them don their super-hero costumes, they would have had a grand time indeed at the party.

At one point (the only strange one of the evening) an exotically dressed woman with an intense gaze strode over to me and said, "Hi! Are you from here?", then proceeded to feel me out as a networking contact. She even royalty-dropped (instead of name-dropped) when I'd asked her what she does(boring, I know, but she seemed jazzed to network) and she replied, "Oh, lots of charity. I'm involved with many charities. Yesterday I worked with the princess all day!" I nearly asked which princess -- one of the King's daughters, perhaps Sirindhorn? the King's sister? the ex-wife of the Prince? -- but she was already onto the next topic. Come to think of it, she may not have been networking; she may have been simply a narcissistic chatterbox. Either way, I suppose I disappointed her in the potential biz contact and/or scintillating chat departments. After a few minutes she exclaimed, "Excuse me, I want to make sure that you meet Nash!" and dashed off to, presumably, Nash, whoever that is. Maybe one of her three brothers she'd mentioned? Anyway, that's a great tactic, much better than excusing onself to use the loo or grab more wine. "Hang on, I want to make sure you meet Nigel!" and then evaporating into the crowd. I like it.

Today required a lot of effort and energy from the bride and groom. Their elaborate Buddhist ceremony took place this morning. Photos from the event played out on wide-screen video monitors scattered throughout the reception tonight. I sure hope they had time to rest in the middle of the day, because for about two hours tonight, Khun Kris and Khun Kay had to stand at the entrance to the party and pose for photos with all guests, one at a time, as they arrived. The prolonged standing, the heat, the smiling, the popping flashbulbs, the greeting of many folks whose names they couldn't recollect in such a surreal context -- had I been in Khun Kay's exquisite shoes, I might have wigged out after about 30 minutes and run off through the lobby. Somehow they summoned enough stamina to handle all the greeting photos as well as a lengthy time on stage during all the toasts. They must be so knackered by now!

Khun Kris and Khun Kay make a wonderful couple. They adore each other but have been together long enough not to have any delusions about the reality of everyday life together. She stood by him when he abruptly decided a couple years ago to leave his steady job and start his own cartoon-orientated communications firm. Money wouldn't have been the issue (his Dad runs SingTel, remember), but some partners -- especially in the status-conscious hi-so world -- might have discouraged him from leaving an established, respected firm to follow a dream based on cartoons. But she did support him and, by the way, his company is doing very well. Good on them for taking a risk and making his dream a reality.

Frustration and Motivation

(Commenter TC: Please read the P.S. at the end of this post!)

Sigh. Let's see, where have I been for lo, these past three weeks? Plenty of cool and interesting and noteworthy things have been happening, but two main obstacles have prevented me lately from posting regularly.

Reason #1: Technical. My online ISP is the Telephone Organisation of Thailand, which provides excrutiatingly slow connections when the server's working...but it often isn't, making even the slow connection seem amazing by comparison. Very often I'll flop down after a long, productive day of romping around Bangkok and/or mommying, and the munchkins are tucked up cosily in bed, and I'm positively brimming with anecdotes and opinions to share...only to discover that I can't get online. Henh.

Of course I could still draft a post in word-processing mode, then post it later when the server's up. But I nearly always forget that option. Instead, wind taken out of my bloggy sails, I settle down to watch a pirated DVD or catch up on the stacks of reading awaiting my eyes. Not bad alternatives, but I ought to flex my writing muscles a little more often, no?

I've whinged on enough about TOT over recent months that readers might suppose, as I've got a personal vendetta by now against this poor, beleagured agency, that I should simply change ISPs. Well, it's not as simple as changing accounts. I've tried, and because TOT is a friggin' government agency, it only Scroogeishly doles out phone line concessions or whatever to private sector competition like True, KSC, and Buddy Broadband. The result is that at this point, no other ISPs can service my otherwise innocuous little subsoi in outer Sukhumvit. Dammit. I've called and called the other companies, begged and beseeched them, but they can't get a new phone line for my current address. Until we move in about four months, we're stuck with TOT and we're stuck with paying for 24/7 service but only enjoying roughly 10/4 service. So that's that. End of.

Reason #2: Mental. I've felt a little bit "Feh! Why bother?" lately at the end of days dotted with blog-worthy encounters of the Bangkok weird. (Believe me, this blog's fallow periods do not signify that life in the Land of Smiles has become quotidian. Perish the thought! Rest assured, you can still spot motorcycles here carrying, for instance, four family members, a computer monitor, and two chickens.) Nay, my blog seems to be suffering from a wee existential crisis.

Like, what is the point of Bangkok Expat Mama (BEM)? Lately it feels all over the road. But for which audiences am I writing? Have I described enough B, or is there too much E, and what about the M? Does the M part seem smarmy or charming, considering not all of my readers are parents? And where is the whole enterprise heading, anyway? I started the blog as a way for loved ones back home to see more of expat life here, but 18 months on, my most frequent commenters and visitors have proved, in fact, to be lovely people whom I've never met but who found the blog through Net searches. So...part of me feels slightly deflated that many of my fave, longest-running homies in the world still have no clue about my life (nor curiosity about other cultures -- or, to be fair, the time to investigate). And the other part of me enjoys entertaining strangers from hither and yon, especially when the blog helps people find information they need. (Readers have sent emails on quests ranging from bringing pet kitties into the Kingdom to hiring a baby car seat on Thai holiday, from hotel recommendations to recipe searches. I comply to the best of my ability.)

Call it a period of bloggy ennui. But just when I was poised to let the dang thing languish even further (i.e. yesterday), an email appeared from an assistant editor of the online component of National Geographic Traveler. She might mention my humble blog in a piece she's working on about Bangkok. Well, I declare! Suddenly a modicum of blog resolve has eturned: I'd better get crackin' on quirky Bangkok stories, restaurant shout-outs, traveling tips, etc., or else my 15 minutes of cyberspace celebrity might slip by. If I let the blog head south, the NG editor might change her mind and, Brahma forbid, mention The Lost Boy instead! (Well, I could deal with that cuz he's a good guy.)

So stick around, ladles and germs. Things could get interesting round here...

(Commenter TC: One of my dearest friends here runs the BAMBI [Bangkok Mothers & Babies International] website. [See Life in Thailand links in lefthand column.] Last week she told me that they've been having technical glitches while changing domains and doing all sorts of impressively complicated computer-y tasks I don't really grasp. She expects the site, at a new address still TBA, to be up and running next week. Meanwhile, good luck on your hunt for domestic help. I suggest checking Craigslist's Bangkok website; the notice boards at Villa Sois 33, 49, and 55; and newsletters for the large international schools in the area.)

The Dowager on Soi 2

This is the lobby of the Atlanta, an eccentric little hotel at the end of Sukhumvit Soi 2. Despite it's frozen-in-time lobby and restaurant (my Czech friend gasped and said, "I feel like I'm home[Prague]! This is just like home!" upon her visit), the Atlanta happens to be tech-savvy enough to offer free WiFi access to all comers. And they wisely chose a non-TOT ISP, which is why I've been sitting in their lobby this midday, nursing a pot of chocolate, with intentions of uploading Burma photos onto this blog -- something I can't do at home thanks to TOT's lameness.

But, to paraphrase Burns, the best-laid plans of mice and mummies often go astray.

I've got to leave in 15 minutes to pick up A from nursery, and how many photos have I uploaded and captioned? Zero. Zilch. Nada. Cuz I let myself get sucked into visiting other Typepad blogs I haven't been able to check from home in a few days thanks to TOT's...OK, you know where I'm going with this; I'm starting to sound like a broken tuk-tuk wheel that's just spinning round and round.

Maybe that's a good thing, though. I've spent so much time on political diatribes recently that this blog hasn't been living up to the "Bangkok" and "Mama" in its name. So today I'll try to make up for that a little.

As for "Bangkok", we've got the shout-out to the Atlanta. This place has terrific Thai food, as well as satisfying Western breakfasts, decent coffee, and dynamite homemade hot chocolate. The food is incredibly cheap for today's Bangkok. Despite the official hotel website's warnings that "outsiders" may not dine here or enter the premises, my friends and I have found that tipping generously (most staff are loyal long-timers) and a pleasant, respectful attitude (which one would employ anywhere, n'est-ce pas?) allow us access with no problem. I particularly enjoy lingering over a coffee by the pool, which happens to have been Bangkok's first hotel pool but, more relevant today, lies next to a lush garden inhabited by countless tame kitties and several tortoises.

Actually the kitties have free run of the whole place. No wonder I love hanging out here! (Note the furry bundle lounging on the divan in above photo.)

Rooms here are cheap, too, by this neighbourhood's standards. Friends who have stayed here tell me that the rooms are basic with a capital "B". At the Atlanta, however, the rooms are not the point. But after running around Bangkok all day, tourists usually care not a bit how fancy their room is. One comes here for the quirky ambience, convenient location, great food, reasonable rates, and the adorable cats who, in fact, run the show.

As for the "Mama" part, I'll report that apparently A's teacher has been teaching the kids (four-year-olds, mind you) yoga -- perhaps as part of an enlightened approach to holistic, New Age learning, but more likely, I suspect, in a desperate bid to settle a class of eight rambunctious boys (Mai, the only girl, just moved back to Japan). Yesterday morning A rolled out of bed and promptly stretched out on the floor and said, out of the blue, "N, let me teach you some yoga. I'm doing yoga, you see it? Now you do it, too, OK?"

As I puttered around with morning rituals (backpack? check! home-time bus snack for N? check! P.E. kit? check!), I could hear the impromptu yoga lesson continue.

"Flex, point. Flex, point. Flex, point...Now butterfly...Yah, N!...Now reach for the sky...Yah!" Giggling. "Let's do butterfly again."

So cute.

I probably won't have time to escape TOT non-Typepad world until Saturday because tomorrow will be flat-out chockers with mummy duties (helping out at N's school, the school Loy Krathong celebration, A pickup) then an interview for a freelance gig (the pastry chef of a four-star hotel, on the baked goodies they'll make for Christmas: Can you say, "free samples"? Mmm!). Burma photos coming soon...by American Thanksgiving if we're lucky.

Where Is Daw Aung San Suu Khyi?

This is 54/56 University Avenue, in Rangoon (Yangon), the capital of Burma (Myanmar). From over this gate, during the early years of her nearly 17 years of house arrest, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi would address brave members of the National League for Democracy political party as well as curious tourists and foreign supporters. Back then, the gate used to look like this (thanks to Amnesty Intl. for photo):
During most of the second near-decade of The Lady's (as she's sometimes called by her country's legions of admirers) house arrest, she has remained behind these gates with only the companionship of her housekeeper (an unsung hero in her own right) and receiving monthly check-ups by a state-approved physician.

No wonder the gates are rusting away and foliage seems rapidly to be flourishing into jungle. Two middle-aged women are living there in isolation, trying to keep their wits about them as day after day passes with no end or change in sight. Who cares if weeds overtake the un-used garage? Basic survival and sanity retention, not keeping up appearances a la Hyacinth Bucket, must be the main focus for these two remarkably stalwart people.

Rumour has it that the junta forbid Suu Kyi this summer from tending the garden in any way, as if she or her maid had much energy at this point to hack at weeds anyway. Why would the junta care about the garden? Well, they have a track record with niggling over seemingly innocuous issues, for one thing, but also snakes and mosquitoes simply adore lurking in dense undergrowth. The loonytunes bastards in charge might think, what the heck? If decades of incarceration and isolation can't smoke out The Lady, perhaps a deadly viper or dengue fever could do the trick.

But at this point, is she even there?

The compound's derelict state alone doesn't prompt my doubt. But two other reference points make me fear for her whereabouts -- as if languishing in one's home for years on end, with nil contact with one's family or compatriots, is all that stellar either.

First point is that a Myanmar friend in Bagan believes, based on what he saw at 54 University Avenue while visiting Yangon five months ago, that she has been moved. He drove by in a taxi and noticed no security in front of the residence. Nor did the taxi driver hesitate to slow down so that our friend could get a good look at the compound. When he reported this to his Yangon relatives, they said that some people suspect the Tatmadaw have slacked off on guarding The Lady's house because she's no longer there.

Second point is our own experience when we drove by the domicile-cum-prison. Our taxi driver, who picked us up at Yangon's airport to take us into town during our layover on the way home, didn't flinch upon our request to cruise University Avenue. As we approached 54/56, we drove under a permanently raised traffic barrier manned by a single bored soldier (no gun in sight, although probably lurking under his desk) who gave us not a second glance.

Himself had a somewhat different experience six years ago. His attempt to stroll up University Avenue met with gruff resistance from automatic weapon-wielding soldiers. No way, no how was this foreigner going to get anywhere within 200m of Suu Kyi's gate...because she was there, and preventing contact between her and the outside world is the m.o. of her captors. So how else to explain the checkpoint's present lassitude other than...they've moved her somewhere else and are fiercely guarding that place instead? I never thought I'd hope that The Lady is in her house, because she should be free to go anywhere, but her own (decaying, decrepit) home is better than -- God forbid -- Insein.

Searching the Internet, however, has yielded no references to the Tatmadaw moving her. I hope my suspicions and those of our friend's family are wrong. If Suu Kyi is indeed still passing her days at home, perhaps the Tatmadaw merely relaxed the checkpoint after attempted visits waned due to so many years of hardcore prevention. Or maybe they decreased their visible presence after installing snipers in nearby trees.

Sounds paranoid? We're talking about the Burmese junta. They've thrown people in jail for telling jokes. They routinely enlist children to toil -- unpaid, as insult to grievous injury -- on army projects. So snipers in trees? Maybe not as weird as it sounds.

Tomorrow: Reflections on and photos of the lovely people we spent time with during our trip. The ordinary, regular, non-Tatmadaw people of Burma who are just like the rest of us, trying to do the best they can for their children and their community, scratching out an existence in an economy under perpetual slump, savouring life's simple pleasures and surely appreciating them more than do many luckier folks. (Including moi. What a reality check.)