Silom Road tuk-tuk wheelie

Whippet says:

Another night sipping fruit juice at Silom Soi 4 was it, David? ;-)

Farangutan says:

Whippet - I believe it was a coconut milkshake.

And its motorcycle taxis all the way for me. Mind you I've seen some hideous bike accidents here and had more than a couple of close calls myself.

Btw - you've as much chance of seeing a Big Foot in Silom as you have of a bar girl who is genuinely 'different / not like the others'.

I'm learning, David....slowly.

David says:

I have already given the house a full and frank statement regarding what has become known as the ìcoconut shake incidentî and have nothing more to add - except that I like chocolate muffins.

Mike says:

In fact I did not want to post anymore, but do you have the drivers mobile?

David says:

I wish I did, Mike. He's a star.

Tirak Ja says:

Coconut Shake I think I forgot this one or missed it. Hmmmm... sounds funny.

Can you telll us the story again grandpa? :-)

sunglasses ron says:

yes, come on grandad, tell us more!! Tirak Ja - I've heard rumours that David has been seen enjoying many coconut shakes, glasses of wine and many other ladie drinks over the last few weeks.... he was out with his adorbaly fat puppy i belive

the little monkey

Khun Stupid says:

Hey! yer knockin my "want to be" retirement occupation!
Tuk Tuk's and their drivers can be a riot and they have alot of local knowlage if you get one that can be trusted.

Thai Fan says:

I have seen the same thing happen, but in this case the tourists jumped out as soon as they could get him to stop, laughed my ass off too. How come tuktuk drivers will never take you where you want to go? Only if im with my "girlfriend" can I get a ride to actual destination haha oh well

nick adams says:

"Btw - you've as much chance of seeing a Big Foot in Silom as you have of a bar girl who is genuinely 'different / not like the others'."

Farangutan - you're a genius. however did you achieve such insight? tell me more!

sniff says:

this is truly one of the great thai secrets, we have been exhorting tuk tuk drivers to do wheelies for about 10 years now, even successfully convincing one trusting soul in Chaing Mai to let us give it a go on our own.

it is surprisingly easy...

crazy roy says:

actually i've seen a few tuktuk drivers perform this feat. one night coming back from the 'pong i had a particularly maniacal driver, so outside my place i thought i'd do the international sign of the wheelie. "no! no!" pleaded the woman, but to no avail, up we went. sanuuk makk makkkkk. recommended.

Dicer says:

thought this may be interesting
---------------------------------------------------------
In a dismal rainy evening on Sukhumvit, I spotted a taxi driver and waved my arm from the shadows of a soi halfway down the road. He rolled to a stop at the kerb, lowered the window and gave me a nod. I said, "Thong Loh" and leapt into the front seat and slammed the door. Looking sideways at me he pulled away without saying a word. After a few seconds I started to inspect the interior of the car. Usual decorations: those white strings around the top of the rear view mirror: several mini amulets of Luung Pra Kun (the revered monk, you know, the one Thaksin spent an evening with recently to get ideas about solving the yaba problem...sigh); and several other items. I made a remark about the Pra and turned to the Taxi licence in front of me on the dash board and slowly read his name: "Solen Jitakorn" This got him a bit excited on his seat covers made from wooden balls and rolling them, sounded some "phuud Gheng no .....na" noise. I thought "Soren". Soren Jitakorn. Eh? The only Soren I know is Soren Kierkeergard. Here was the Thai Soren next to me driving a taxi. I was in a moment of pure fantasy almost compelled to ask him whether God exists, but gathered myself and thought more about Issan taxi drivers.

Now how do you get on the good side of Bangkok cabbies? Well, if they think you a newbie then they may, just may try to pull a fast one by pitching you the "want lady" line or may also try to take you to some overpriced whorehouse. But if you know your bearings and don't look the stuffed shirt type, sit in front and talk to them, you may learn some Lao words to practice on your Issan girls. You can check the name on their photo licence cards and don't be alarmed if the face is not similar; These guys rent a car in groups or with a cousin (one of them does the day shift and the other does the night); what you've heard in the bars about the two tone green and yellow taxis being owner driven does not always hold. In actual fact, the owner gives his car to a brother or a friend at nighttime or when he's off to bathe in his "laaw".

David wrote:-

"Comfortable air-conditioned taxis are cheaper and the majority of drivers are honest".

Interesting. I actually find Bangkok Taxi Drivers one of the brightest group of people in the capital. Like their cousins on the other side of the globe, the London Cabbies these guys have a thorough knowledge of the town, and equally they not only know the standard route from point A to B, but a whole variety of short cuts.

I remember from some time ago reading a Scientific American article which confirmed a research - that portions of the taxi drivers' brains are actually larger than that of the average person. And where was this? London, of course. Think about it, The Knowledge, the exhaustive training to obtain a taxi license covering over a thousand square miles area of London takes about three years to learn. Their brains change as they memorise the city's layout; the hippocampus of the cabbies, the area of the brain associated with memory, navigation and generally orientation, grows.

Unlike many of the Knowledge Boys who are life-long cockney Londoners the overwhelming majority of Bangkok taxi drivers are of Issan origin and have come a long way from their villages. Amazingly though, they become better acquainted with Bangkok in less time than it takes you to see Thai Immigration twice. No maps, no books, no studying, just jump right into it. Now with a typical London cabby, would rather sell his mother to the Arabs than ask you for help, even if he initially fails to recall the direction to your intended destination. "Oh that one Gov? Know just the one..." and he's off. Bangkok Taxis, naaaah...they have a bigger picture in their heads and once they get to plying the streets, work out how to get there with you; it's a joint effort. As they get closer they start asking which direction and if you dont know, they lower the window and ask anyone.

Now these chaps unlike most of the Thai population out there are forced to be externally aware. The motion, the forced time limit, the requirement to look and remember goes straight into their brains, something in line with what the average tourist finds appealing. What do I mean by this? Well, I have taken a cab in New York, Bombay or many other cities, but it does not come close to Bangkok. Western people are externally organised: that is, cities with symmetry, control and order; Eastern people tend to be internally organised: that is, aware of the self in relation to harmony with social groups. Therefore, for a visitor who steps out onto the bewildering streets of Bangkok or Hong Kong, Asia seems in a state of chaos and disorder while for an Asian who is in the slow process of getting accustomed to life in, say New York, people seem out of control and in a state of personal chaos. Now what better guide to Bangkok than a cabbie who can ease the confusion?

So if you try to read their names or make some remark about the amulets and whatnot hanging from the rear view or just engage them in a chat you'll soon realise that they have more opinions than the average chap, and know all the secrets of Bangkok -- their fingers on the pulse of the city. We know what they say about London cabbies; their knowledge of current affairs is unparalleled and their strong opinions are dispensed to anyone, asked or not. It's no different here except; if you are a foreigner they need some of the above cues to let them know that you can be on the same wavelength as them.

The mangled state of their driving is another matter altogether. On the traffic lights Soren did not move with the queue, as though intent on creating a space, to amuse himself by watching the other drivers panic about it. He was gleefully darting in and out of heavy traffic with complete abandon. A little further down he swerved violently two lanes to miss a dowdy old woman in mismatch silk clothes walking in the middle of the road; She must be one of those na Ayuttaya's or na Lopburi's who think they're invincible or else she has to be some menopausal sourpuss who's just been deprived the use of her car. Worn down to its nub, he played the sonic harmony of the horn every few seconds to match the upbeat music flowing out of the tape. He continued in this manner for a short while and unexpectedly he changed lanes; he looked in his rear view to see if he cut anyone off and upon finding that he had done so he gave me a satisfied glance.

I ignored his fractured driving technique called "Leave The Field To The Heavyweights" and focused more on the basic informative streak of the "where do you come from and where do you go" type of talk we had started earlier on. Once we had done the warm up talk I asked him questions about politics and received interesting reactions of the kind I have not received for many other things said with less commitment such as money or women. For example, when I asked, "what do you think of Thaksin," Soren went into making a good comparison between Thaksin and Suharto which amused me endlessly as it was a serious way of reflecting on the present and yet original and well informed. Or something off the wall like: "So what do you think about that mafia goon boss Chalerm who has jumped into the Bangkok election?" a question I would not ask a colleague for instance, and the reply I got was an assessment of the election that would make Thai Rath or anyone of the English dailies hide in shame. What's more, he started guffawing at Chuwit's funny mustache on the posters outside. I said, "how about Banyat, doesn't he look like a sissy in whitening cream?" And this afforded some laughs.

Thai-foreigner conversations are too easily branded as all too predictable given certain theories of Thai behaviour according to which there exists in them a quotient of ignorance that must somehow manifest itself. Soren was solid proof that this is not always the case. Most of the cabbies I've met are wired differently; In the maddening traffic jams I see them reading newspapers, listen to every dribble that comes out of the radio and are quick to tell you what they think if so prompted, not quite a common trait of the Thai character.

Then it was then his turn to ask some general questions. "So tell me why do farangs come here?" Now, Thais usually ask you if you like the place, not why you are here, but Kierkegaard here was searching. To an intelligent chap like Soren no simple answer will do so I felt like really thinking. Perhaps: It is because of our patriarchal rage at women usurping our place at the helm, in either home or workplace or should I say simply we fulminate against women who don't give it away. Ergo we are compelled to come here, having had our imperfectly formed psyche in thrall to her Thainess.

But would it be a better answer if I say: The Church of England believes that buggery is a principal cause of freak weather -- quoting Leviticus, as if that "ting tong" text had anything useful to say about anything except, perhaps, the inappropriateness of eating seafood in Judea -- so all freak weather haters in my country put their forces together and banished us; and hence here we are festing on your boys and your ladyboys. Oh we love the ladyboys, those curious creatures of modernity, their perplexed anatomy a Warholian art show." . Now before running up mileage on my storyteller's taxi meter I must hasten to add that Bangkok Taxi drivers are unabashed gay bashers and insults such as katoey orm kuay and ai bat sop are often heard and having thought it something ill-advised that would not endear me to him I went in a different direction. Besides the phrase ìWarholian art showî is unlikely to conjure up tart images on silkscreen print to an Ubon man.

How about: For a century, we have been breeding like a virus under optimum conditions, and now the virus has begun to attack its host, the earth. The lower atmosphere is filled with dust. So while the rich bastards who own our country are serene, even smug, we (and this is the socialist not royal 'we') the sensible ones, have come here to appeal to the superstitious nature of Thai gods. Before saying it, however, I remembered that it would not stand up to facts, as Thai cosmology and its attendants (who wrap everything in toxic plastic bags) makes this impossible, and Bangkok is nothing but just a staging area for heaven; I discounted this possible rejoinder as well.

And finally, I was going to come clean and tell him that I came to Thailand because I lost an argument to an irrational Welshman called Dow Jones and had no way of going back, but Soren might eagerly offer the capable hands of his mates and their mauls to fix this Welshman. I didn't want to explain how complex this fella was...so what the hell, I said to him "farangs come to Thailand to err... to live and let live, to avoid primitive, uneducated and dangerous people and in no lesser part, to partake in a colourful culture where sex is synonymous with hydraulics, recondite fantasies with facile acts and doddering buggery with that of a penny arcade game, even a penchant for nymphets a matter of pride. As such it is bread and butter stuff to our hosts, who are not pretentious in their material pleasures and sexual deviations as we are in our moral preoccupations and overblown attempts to put a lid on sex. And here we are my friend, finally free, we flow like rivers in smile land; each of us waving our erection in every direction and happily, judiciously, we squirt, we spurt, we spout to our heart's content.

Although I felt like it, I did not say all that to him; I stopped somewhere between hydraulics and buggery. Even then we had a mighty laugh about that, the irony of coming to Bangkok to "avoid primitive, uneducated and dangerous people" not lost on Soren, especially for an Ubon man who has had only Pratom five education but nevertheless, a very sharp mind and long experience in Bangkok. Besides as any one can guess, translating "hydraulics" and equating it to sex is no easy fit in Thai. Feigning ignorance he asked more, "what do farang men, so placed do then?" The answer was, of course, "anything and everything we can." which I think meant "fucking" to him.

I could not say if this "anything and everything" was progressive or regressive or whether it inhabits a place in the psyche where our experience recognizes forward or backward. Yes, we the mavens of Bangkok flow like rivers, but what are the safety valves that release and sublimate our desires for the girls, and do we in the end ebb away leaving only wounds; our ageing lives populated by ever younger women, our carefree bohemianism, our unending thirst for pedestrian sex, as if it is a matter of survival, our talk of it, which is pure commedy when it's not infantile and appalling, our anchorless spleen hurling the gauntlet at our own values? Where does this lead? If we are only armed with our splendid colonialist myths to sustain us, memories of their grotesque rituals, pictures of naked tribal girls and their dripping animal ways, as depicted in our school history books then all we are trying to do by being here is allay our internal tensions; each prisoner of his own history and his own national myths.

Depraved behaviour, in order to erupt, needs other pretexts, like "technological assistance or tourism". I could not understand how we can be so jolly, and this same psychology, the same sense of fucking every forty kilogram weighing Thai girl as something meaningful to a life that, all things considered was too boring and dull before it got here. And if you reread the same jollity of a man drunk in his own sexual bravado, narrating moments of pure heroism - when he fired endless rounds on the nape of a willing Buriram girl - there is nothing but the impulse and once that was satisfied, the game was over. Such a hero is impelled by circumstances; he is a hero by mistake; he dreams of being the white raja of sexual excess, but the girls knowing as they are exploit him, making him a myth, while he the man worthy of esteem, is really only a poor creature who could not control his urge. If we don't accept and recognise bravely, the inevitability of this behaviour - searching for ways to confine it in us, offer it a more effective safety valve - we run the risk of being idealists and moralists as much as those whose madness we so reprove.

Somewhat lost in this reverie I was awoken a moment later by the rings of his mobile phone. Come to think of it, being mere mortals, Ubon man and me could not answer such lofty questions and were content with poking fun. He then offered to show me an exclusive hooker joint on the upper end of Sukhumvit and having been lulled into a sense of camaraderie I took up the offer to have a short tour. He said tendentiously, "I'll show you an alternative route if you dont mind, and I'll point out some interesting places on the way."

If you should ever get the notion to accept any offer from a taxi driver consider the following caveats. First is that I tend to avoid the Chinese and Central Thai cabbies. They tend to be the pretentious constipated types and for some reason (maybe their overconfidence in being native Bangkokers) they tend to miss directions. The Issan guys, though their minds may be perpetually hazy from over consumption of that rotgut which passes by the name of Sangsom, are alert and chirpy in mannerism. One quirk of Bangkok taxis: they dont like it if you change your mind and request to go to another place; they are like mono-directional cockroaches with rigid compasses and will more than often flip if you ask them to turn midway. Also the time of day is crucial as well. If you travel around Bangkok around 4pm most tend to change their shifts and it's really the worst time to catch a taxi. Oh and the airport: The airport arrival taxi stand is notorious. There have been so many stories of rigged metres and dodgy drivers and what with the 50 baht surcharge it is definitely not worth it. So what do you do? If you go up to the departure floor you can get cabs not snared in the local mafia and a regular fare to town. Or for discerning cheapskates, if you can walk out on the road you can catch airbuses for 30 baht or regular buses for 3.5 baht. Or for 20 baht you can walk right over and catch the train into Hualampong station.

Also when I extol the cleverness of Bangkok cabbies I dont disregard some facts that are observed quite often. Some cabbies would never understand a word of Thai you are saying however hard you try. This is similar to the shop assistant or the grouch old lady in the silk shop who once confronted by a foreigner would go on total synapsis shutoff mode, eyes glazed over and grinning, looking as if she's going to explode any second. Now in Nana plaza parlance, if cognitive dissonance is a mild case of chlamydia then synapsis shutoff is chronic syphilis. The person you're speaking to is not really attempting to listen to what you are saying. Since the words are coming out of a foreigner it must be some incomprehensible farang-talk and the synapsis connections made between thoughts, meanings and memory switches off. Therefore communication is not possible. For example I go into a restaurant (not frequented by tourists) and ask a waiter to bring me a bottle of beer, spoken in slow deliberative Thai. The waiter in return looks at me in bewilderment. As most expats do, (especially English speakers) repeating the same thing again and again, each time slower and louder will not help him get it at all. The only solution is to point it out on the menu or get one of his colleagues to help. His is a case of mental meltdown and jolting him out of it would require more effort than it is worth. Taxi drivers can be the same. If you detect any form of synapsis shutoff then the best thing to do is give up the attempted communication and enjoy the quiet ride.

After he showed me a couple of hooker establishments and a bar frequented by the mafia knitting circle I made a mental note of the places and paid Soren my fare plus some tip and wished him good luck at Thong Loh station. The taxi driver is, like the hooker, tour agent, bus driver, restaurateur, a buffer between foreigners and the sea that are Thai people out there. Conversely, his local customers are at such a low level of awareness about our presence in Thailand that they need the likes of him to bring them up and quid pro quo he is like a lotus seed in the mud of the earth, at the bottom, slowly working up their consciousness or turning to mud like the rest.

An article published a while back but modified here.

Dana says:

"Since the words are coming out of a foreigner it must be some incomprehensible farang-talk. . ."

This commen Thai communication linguistic socialization synapse affliction has driven me bonkers for years. There are many one word or two or three word Thai phrases that are not difficult for the newbie to learn and say EXACTLY CORRECTLY. Context and inflection and accent and tone are not issues with these universal Thai simple words and phrases. So you know you said it properly. The Thais look at you as if you are speaking in tongues. They simply can't process the fact that Thai language is coming out of a non-Thai face. Another example of racism that will hold them back until their 'culture' slips through the cracks of progress and is forgotten. If my pet poodle asked me one night to go the refrigerator and get a beer I might be startled but I would still understand the words. The sounds and the words exist independently of the speaker. Not in Thailand. Call this anything you want but you can't use the word intelligent. Ever try to tell a pest on the street to GO AWAY? Look it up in Thai--it is easy. Good Luck.

Bow Wow Wow says:

Did you say you have a pet poodle? Yeah, might have guessed. Grrrrrrrrrr... yelp.

Dana says:

Attn: Asshole

If you look up poodles and military history you might learn something. Get someone to help you with the big words. My poodles are the first line of defense. After that it is my stuffed teddy bears. If the teddy bears are breached I plan to throw muffins. Oh by the way, your daughter is in the back of my van.

Bow Wow Wow says:

Did you say you have a van? Yeah, might have guessed. Isn't that the preferred vehicle for serial rapists?

Greg says:

Dana, have you ever asked for an item for sale in a store that doesn't carry that item? You'll get the same response.

"Orange phone card, crap. Mi orange taulasap card, crap? "

Yes, mi. And then she will pull out a long distance phone card.

No, ORANGE card crap.

Look of not understanding.

ORANGE, this time, smile gone, talking as if I really mean it this time.

OH! Orange. My mi!

Several times I've found that if the store is out of stock of an item, they'll have a very difficult time understanding my request for it.

I've always put it down to some wacky cognitive dissonance thing.

My ex wife was the same way.

It's 1 am, the wife has been in bed for 3 hours. I crawl into bed.

"Where were you"

"I just got back from the hospital. I went to the emergency room because I felt a pain in my scrotum"

"What?"

""I just got back from the hospital. I went to the emergency room because I felt a pain in my scrotum"

"What"

And on and on. I had to repeat myself five times. This kind of interaction was routine with her. If I said something that didn't fit in with what she expected, she simply could not process it, and demanded an instant replay. Very frustrating. I wish she could have learned to simply take a deep breath, and force herself to say, OH, I understand, and then repeat what she had clearly heard me say. Selfish to make me do the work for her.

Dana says:

Recently I was discussing cognitive dissonance (fancy politically correct 60's psycho babble for 'the other guy is stupid') of the Thais with an American who has been married to a Thai for 14 years. He mentioned that if something is out of context it just stops them cold. Call this anything you want but you can't say it illustrates a complicated adaptive language or adaptive native language users. I wait with baited breath to hear about how this is somehow my fault.

Regardiing the ORANGE card incident it also illustrates perfectly something in Thai society that has nothing to do with language. To wit: in Thai retail (to keep it simple) business interactions the Thais approach the interaction from the point-of-view of what they want (to sell something, anything, to generate revenue). Everywhere else in the world the businessman approaches the retail interaction from the point-of-view of 'what does the customer want'. In Thailand retail business notions like 'the customer is always right' and 'make the customer happy' and 'listen to the customer' are completely unknown. Thai's and indeed most Asian societies regard business as a substitute for war--you don't make friends or listen to peoples needs in war. You live fast and adopt any means to survive and prosper without regard to any civilized values. I'm a free spender when I travel except in Thailand. In Thailand I do everything I can to avoid buying goods and services from Thais because it is an unequal social exchange. This even extends to eating off the street instead of placing myself at risk in eating establishments. Thailand is not the Land of Smiles.

Greg says:

"He mentioned that if something is out of context it just stops them cold."

This would be in line with the idea that if there is a rule in place to follow, most will be fine, but if they have to re-interpret the rules or come up with a new one, many will be at a complete loss.

Rule/role level of cognitive ability versus rational being capable of ruling the rules and thinking about thinking.

On another thread someone mentioned how he could no longer put up with bossy falang women. I hear that! Shop carefully in this country though, as there are other negatives to be found.

I just read your post, Dicer. Interesting read.

Regarding shopkeeps: the shopkeeps in my area have always been friendly, and I've never suspected an overcharge. But customer service in a department store sometimes requires someone to answer simple product related questions for which she has no interest in knowing the answer. The store reps often just bug me - offering to "help" by distracting me and pointing to things I have no interest in. They actually intimidate me and make me feel uncomfortable enough to be less inclined to casually look through the items for sale. I move on. I think I'm not the only one who feels this way. Culture clash thing I guess. Do Thais prefer to be waited on for no reason? A salesgirl to protect every rack of clothes. Many a salesgirl won't let you into her territory to rifle the hangers yourself, but have to "show" the clothes to you. Overeager salespeople seem oblivious to the counter productiveness of being in your face. The cause and effect of bugging someone doesn't seem to register.

Bow Wow Wow says:

It's 1 am, the wife has been in bed for 3 hours. I crawl into bed, making sure to wake her up so that she'll ask me where I was"

"Where were you"

"I just got back from the hospital. I haven't ejaculated in three days and I felt a pain in my scrotum, so I went to the emergency room"

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard me. But just to be sure, I just got back from the hospital. I haven't ejaculated in three days and I felt a pain in my scrotum, so I went to the emergency room. And it's all your fault because you won't make love to me. Hell, you won't even give me a hand job and I'm certainly not going to do it because that's what I married you for"

"What the fuck is wrong with you now, Greg. Christ, you're worse than a child. Why don't you fuck off to the couch and let me get some sleep"

And on and on. I was such a prick in those days. Come to think of it, I still am. Oh, well. But now I have all my friends at Mango Sauce to talk to, so I'm not that lonely anymore.

Dicer says:

Dana writes:-

"They simply can't process the fact that Thai language is coming out of a non-Thai face....The sounds and the words exist independently of the speaker. Not in Thailand."

Sure. In many countries including Japan the same thing occurs. Way before I wrote the article, the Japanese used to do exactly the same thing. I would go into a subway station and ask for advice at the counter in clear crisp Japanese (a language that is strictly atonal) and the guy would go blank and stare in desperation. He is just not capable of handling variation esp when it comes to communication with a non-Japanese.

"Recently I was discussing cognitive dissonance (fancy politically correct 60's psycho babble for 'the other guy is stupid')"

Well we can illustrate it plainly then. It means you believe something that is frequently countered by reality. Like white people who think all black people are violent and black people who think all white people are racist; when the white man meets a polite and nice black person and when the black person meets a white man who's not bigoted they both experience dissonance. So both modify their beliefs to lessen the impact of contradiction. But do they? Not usually. Ok this one black man is ok but the others are scum and conversely yes, that one white man is kind of ok but the rest are bigoted shits. And if both meet more people who checkmate their beliefs? This time, some black men are not violent and some white men are not racist. And if the white man goes to live in a black neighbourhood and meets people who talk and think like him then it's going to be serious problem. Does this sound like over-stating the case?

OK let's say Thais dont react accordingly, they just ignore the contradiction and continue as if nothing is wrong. Foreigners can not speak Thai, so what you're speaking is not Thai. Why? Because we are Thai and you are not? erm...run that by me one more time, I am speaking Thai but its not Thai for you because I'm not Thai? Correctomondo. What is it then? errr its a farang talking. Talking what? dono.

"Another example of racism that will hold them back...."

Now we are assuming that people can change their beliefs in a snap, such logical creatures that they are. And if they can't they must be stupid and/or racist? They may be racist for other reasons, but here I'll settle for dissonance that would not go away.

It's denial becomes quicksand which swallows them up to their chins.