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Friday, March 2nd, 2001
A breath of fresh air...
A direct attack on the senses. The lavishly furnished five star hotel, thoughtfully prepared food
thrust at you everywhere you turn, a king size bed and marble bathroom. A gust of cool air as the doors turn with your stride to the outside. Then, like the stove door opening, the thick, smoggy air
grabs hold of your throat. While you wrestle with its grip, you negotiate a ride to the city market. And you haggle over one dollar. Before you've settled into the back of the three-wheeler Tuk-Tuk
the driver screams away into the traffic. Along the pavement, between the cars, a beep from the hooter - red light!! A narrowly missed bus at 80 kilometres an hour. A swift turn to a stop. A
toothless smile as he disappears again into the sea of cars...
A bump-twist-sidestep-oopssorry-no-thanks walk through the market lanes. Genuine-imitation can't-tell-the-difference selection of brand-name
clothing, watches, perfumes.... whatever you want, it is for sale. "Scuse me mista you want pussy?-How-'bout-RayBan-Sunglass-then? - I make cheap for you"
I had the chance to visit Bangkok again.
As the plane banked slowly away from Bangkok, I gazed out of the window at the smog, the smoke, the unfinished high-rise buildings that ran out of funding, the thousands and
thousands of old, worn garments hanging from balconies of acid-rain stained buildings and the artery system of roads along which every type of vehicle every built flows hour after hour after hour... relentlessly
pouring exhaust fumes skyward. The sun was a bright hole piercing the dense atmosphere, struggling to get some light to the streets below. As we climbed higher the city below disappeared below the
blanket of poverty-driven-consequence. I stepped from the plane into Melbourne International Airport relieved it was over.
We take what we have for granted. We wake up and go about our day oblivious that there are people living on this planet in utter desperation. Women who stand
naked on bar tops with pleading eyes. A beg for a living. Not because they want to. Not because they like it. But because in a city overflowing with people yet desperate for money, life is
cheap. Taxi drivers take you half way across the city for three dollars. Mothers begging you to buy a shirt, just one will feed the children.
What is the morally right thing to do? Buy the $15 watch that is a clear rip off of the real thing? Promote the illegal copying of brand name items? Give these people money and thus endorse this methodology? Or not?
Do you give these women money for dancing naked on a stage? Does one indulge in curiosity and go upstairs to see balloons popped with darts shot from places unheard of? Or not?
Perhaps Roger Waters is right... This species has amused itself to death.
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