Diversity

Each day's discoveries and mysteries are magnified in this culture whose mores are bedecked with ancient traditions and strong religious beliefs. There is a certain comfort to it all, even though I can barely scratch the surface of the import of the ceremony that surrounds it. It's the comfort of unity; the knowledge that I am holding on to the edge of a blanket of values that all my neighbors share in common. (Notwithstanding the fact that I am not yet privy to them.)

'Diversity' is a much used word in the USA these days. I think it's used as a plea. It's a begging invitation for unity and acceptance of all in a land where dozens of cultures and religions need to co-exist without beating on each other. That's not the case in Thailand. This is a predominantly Buddhist culture with a small percentage of Muslims and a much smaller percentage of Christian and other religions. Accepting diversity is not an issue here. The Buddhist tradition does not proselytize and it's core tenets call for the acceptance of all. It is the essence of Buddhism and it recognizes no demarcation lines between other beliefs, skin colors, or political leanings. The central issues are Buddhist practice, which, above all else, centers around giving and receiving good karma and respect for ones ancestors, Buddha and a number of revered monks, some living, some long dead.

This comfortable blanket of cultural unity surrounds me, but it is, at present, as perplexing as it is comforting. Animism sits in a front row seat. All things have souls and histories that can be told through the pages of their reincarnations. Some auspicious tree trunks are wrapped in ceremonial silks, spirit houses adorn the front yards of most homes and every home and business sports at least one shrine where incense and offerings of food are presented to ancestors and revered personages.

Some cattle, like the cow shown in the picture above, wear prayer beads. I have no idea of the import of it, but we will, in time, ferret out its meaning. The young men in monk's robes in the second picture are not ordained monks. Many of the more religious families send their sons to the Wats (temples) for three to six months for religious training and they live in the manner of monks while they are there. Men who have caused grievous harm to others, or behaved badly in some way, often enter a Wat and live a monk's life until they feel they have atoned for their transgressions. Repentance and wisdom gained by austerity. They return to their family and community cleansed, regaining the face they lost through their misconduct.

There is always a flip side of the coin, of course. In this case, it can also be seen that lateral thinking is not encouraged in this land of unified mores. And that means that imitation, rather than innovation, is the rule. I think that is slowly beginning to change and the Internet (which offers pretty spiffy broadband and is subsidized by the government) is going to promote the notion of and quest for innovation. Change is inevitable, but for the moment, I like things the way they have been for centuries.

Transport Me

Public transportation comes in five flavors on this island. There are taxis; a few of them have been recently metered in an effort to regulate the never-never land of negotiating fares for these air conditioned cars that offer the most comfortable ride to where you want to go. I haven't used one in years, so I don't know what the current fares are, but I'm sure that getting across this island is a helluva lot cheaper than a taxi ride across town in Manhattan. A taxi is the best option for getting to your hotel, or wherever you are going, after spending the long and dreary hours it takes to get here by air, but once you are settled in and rested, they are the most expensive way to get around and not recommended if you are on a limited budget.

Most of the better hotels and restaurants offer free transportation in their vans and there are hundreds of them whizzing along the highways. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the van drivers are expert at navigating this daunting traffic, but they go like hell – always. Most cars give way to them and allow them to suck in their sides and squeeze through the damndest tight spots. Van passengers are well advised to concentrate on the novel street scenes passing by their windows and totally ignore the maze of traffic they are being rushed through, if they don't want to arrive at their destination with tightly scrunched stomachs.

Motorbike taxis are a fun way to make shorter trips, and the air rushing past your face always feels good. Registered motorbike taxi drivers wear red or green vests with their registry numbers displayed. They are careful, take their time and are inexpensive and dependable. We use them for short hops around the village from time to time. If you are walking along the street and looking for a ride, a few non-vested motorbike drivers will offer to give you a lift for a fee. It's best not to accept these offers and just stick with the guys in red and green vests. They take their job seriously and you get the safest rides with these pros. It's against the law to have more than two people on a motorbike, so, if there are two of you looking for a lift, the motorbike driver will ask you if you want two motorbikes, or if the two of you want to hop onto the back of his bike. A and I always go together. It's cozy and fun. That law, by the way, is rarely enforced and it's common to see two parents and two children on the same motorbike - sometime more - with the family dog sitting in the basket in front! I don't know how the dogs do it – a matter of conditioning, I suppose – but seeing a dog sitting nonchalantly in the basket of a speeding motorbike is a sight to behold, and it's a common thing.

Buses course the main arteries of the island all day. We use them and love them. There is no such thing as a bus schedule, or even a bus stop, but there are a lot of buses and one never has to wait long on the side of the road before a bus comes along. You flag them down, they pull over and you climb into the back of these modified pickup trucks. They sport canopied beds with three long wooden benches. Cost rather than comfort is the bottom line with buses. The fare for any distance (including all the way across the island) is twenty baht (about five cents). It's a great way to travel and a wonderful way to get a sense of the nitty-gritty of Thai life. A bus driver in Portland jokingly told me that his job was, "Telling people where to get off." Here, we push a button on the roof of the canopy, or simply bang on the back of the cab to let the driver know where we want to get off.

If you happen to be on a bus when the schools are getting out, you get packed and squeezed into a flock of uniformed youngsters. All schoolchildren wear school uniforms and even their haircuts are regulated. School uniforms give me pause. I'm a liberal minded person from the west, right? I applaud the notion of individuality and personal expression, but then... I'm thinking... Are the kids in the US, with their wild haircuts, baggy trousers, and pierced, bedecked navels really expressing individuality? I'm thinking they too are wearing uniforms, but the authority regulating (manipulating) them is the fashion industry, which is simply promoting consumerism. If the school uniforms here have anything to do with molding the profile of this wonderful Thai culture and the respectful and gentle nature of its citizens (and I think it does), then I'm all for it. I never thought I would ever hear myself saying something like that. But I digress... back to transportation...

The most notorious, most unique and most colorful means of getting around the island is in a tuk-tuk (pictured above). There was a time, not too many years ago, when one could make short trips in a tuk-tuk for around five cents, but inflation and a powerful tuk-tuk union has changed that and the general fare (for foreigners) is now two dollars and fifty-six cents – Thais get much better rates. Two and a half bucks is still a pretty good deal by western standards. The tuk-tuk drivers have a lot of political clout and they have a very strong union. They have, in the past, brought traffic on the island to a standstill by banding together and forming tuk-tuk blockades at major intersections. I don't know what the issues were, but you better believe they won the day in every case. A number of them have become pals and old friends of mine over the years and A and I even got a free ride from one of them a few weeks ago. I was terribly flattered. They are a jovial lot and they probably know more about the tourist flow here than Thailand's Tourism Authority – and that's saying a lot. One of my tuk-tuk pals (he calls himself Sam) told us about the hardships that followed the tsunami. Its economic aftermath still plagues much of the island, although they have done a fast and terrific cosmetic job and newcomers to the island have to be super observant to detect signs of the devastation. I will write more about the tsunami recovery in a coming post.

I like using public transportation. Driving your own vehicle requires one hundred percent concentration. If you shift your eyes from the road to look at anything, even for a few seconds, the traffic scene around you has changed and you have to scramble to avoid a disaster. I've yet to experience anything resembling a leisurely drive here. Tuk-tuks, buses, taxis and motorbike taxis give you the opportunity to scan this interesting environment. They may not get you to your destination in the fastest way, but it's better than being in a hurry to get to your accident.