Thailand Story2

I like that International menagerie , the ever on the move Aussie , the solid off duty Germans, those oh so cool but seemingly truly out of place Russians, the stereotypical English couple looking for something to moan about or showing that usual timid, I guess reserve, ‘yes well we’ll send aunt Muad an e-mail with that picture of you falling off the elephant ladder Geoffrey, should bring ideas and a laugh to the women’s institute creative writing group she attends on Wednesday’s, she’d have come you know, deep vein thrombosis scares put her orff’. I’d like to think I am being stereotypical, but the irony, (a very English trait) is I’m not! And I am more than happy to extract the Michael out my own countryman more than any other, probably because we can take a joke easier than most. Amongst all of this surreal activity we call tourism the work a’day Thais are going about their business, (god what do they think of all these weird foreigners? I can really feel their tangible bewilderment). The Thais are the smartly dressed prim and proper office workers, ultra clean cut and impeccable Naval officers and crisp fatigued and proud Thai yeomanry on their way to their billets and involved classes and exercises in the possible actions on the Thai/Burma border. School children, either warily alone with their determined stare towards the next pier, or in groups with what is their right to neither care nor worry about a problematic world are in happy giggling fits amongst themselves in the coolness of the air that is the beauty of being near the river. It is a colourful and highly entertaining spectacle, for the taciturn observer seeing and hearing a wealth of momentary insights into the machinations of all that surround him. So at last the boat arrives we all make a nifty leap aboard and seconds later we cast off and away we go. I stand, dutifully avoiding the monks allocated railing space. I find it wise here in this country to display deference on occasion that deference matters. We are made aware of our conductor’s presence as she shakes that little tinny cylindrical ticket holder for fares, hands move quickly to pockets and grope towards baht coinage, there is something quite menacing about that conductors little tinny ticket dispenser akin to that of the rattle snake and I have a sneaking feeling that us foreigners are going to get rattled at the most, however I cannot but admire the deft and wickedly nimble handling of that device in her determined pursuit in the collection of fares. Its crowded onboard it’s still a fairly busy time of day, a little after nine in the morning and it is high season. Again I look out at the banks of the river. Again I am contrasting the old and the new, between the well kept and the high modern super hotels and smart little restaurants, along the way however there are many tatty and long forgotten piers, their foundations slowly but surely being swallowed down into the river, some lying at awkward angles, rotting away, those of wood will truly rot and wither and those of concrete block will crumble and eventually fall. There are families here and their living in no more than what are little shacks, they wash and clean, little chubby children play in happy abandon of the world that surrounds and passes them. The temples, a church here and there loom serenely amongst the office blocks. Close to the river bank are old wood buildings some seem very derelict, but here and there you see movements about them, I figure, obviously, they are the homes to a host of quite poor inhabitants of this city, etching out a living somehow. Despite their poverty I can see within them that these are proud people, their washing flutters and they are fresh in both their bodies and outlook, there’s a stoic grace to these perhaps less than fortunate folk. They still manage to smile and the children wave, there’s a toot of the ships horn, may well be our skipper knows these people well. As with the habit of people who ply the rivers the skippers, crew and linesman exchange daily chatter in quick spurts to other passing boats of various descriptions, yes these people know their river and they know their comrades and more as like their extended families well and feel naturally the need to be close whenever opportunity arises while about their work. The story of the river boat journey will continue in my next ‘Thailand Story’, Travel log.