There’s such a lot of world to see

My early-morning flight from Hong Kong would get me to Bangkok for late morning, as Thailand is one hour behind China.  This was great news for me – I already had my hotel booked, so managed to get through the airport with no problems, and despite taking over an hour to get from the aiport to the city centre – Bangkok is a huge, sprawling city – it still gave me the afternoon to have a look round town.  I was only going to be in Bangkok – in Thailand, for that matter – for a day and a half, so I wanted to make the most of it.

But boy, was it hot.  The heat hit me like a slap in the face with a burning log when I got off the plane.  And not in that good “Ooh, I’m on my holidays” way, instead in that “Oh wow I really have no energy and maybe I can take a little nap right here on the runway” kind of way – I haven’t experienced heat like it since Mangalore in India, and had forgotted what it felt like.  Still, undeterred, I dumped my bag in my room and set right out.  I was staying near (but not on) Khao San Road, the biggest backpacker place in town, and this was immediately obvious – literally everywhere I looked there were young white people – it was hard in this area to see any Thais at all (apart from working in the 24-hour bars and restaurants).  It was sort of fun, but I could have only coped for a couple of days, maximum – not really my sort of place.  It was much more fun to get out and about in the city.

Unintentionally (although, I will of course take credit for it), my trip to Bangkok coincinded with the national celebrations for the 60th anniversary of the King’s accession to the throne.  Yep, he’s been a King for a looooong time, and these guys seemed pretty royalist, and happy to party.  Which was good news for me!  They’d come up with a great idea as well, whereby everyone bought a yellow t-shirt to show their support.  This was slightly confusing at first, when it looked like a uniform, but after a while I was just used to it (although it did take me back to my Lourdes days, when us Youth Service people had to walk about in yellow t-shirts).  I think it’s a marvellous idea though, and I think all us Brits should have waled about in Union Jack t-shirts on QEII’s birthday.  Actually, on second thoughts, that would have made us look like a nation full of Costa Del Sol lager louts.  Which might have been even funnier.

Bangkok public transport is frustratingly limited to the east, and north-south parts of the city.  No help when you’re staying in the west.  However, they do have a regular and cheap ferry boat service (yep, more boats – glutton for punishment?) that run on the river that crosses the west city.  These boats don’t hang about, though, and involve daring leaps onto the moving boat from the moving gangplank, on to a boat that’s about to pull away.  You feel like James Bond for a few seconds, until you look over and see a granny who’s just pulled off the same move with much more aplomb than you.

I headed down river to the Royal Palace (does what it says on the tin), and the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, which are basically on the same complex.  Being used to Indian temples, I’d thrown my sarong in my bag in case I needed to cover my shoulders (I was wearing a vest top and knee-length shorts).  However, this wasn’t enough coverage, and would have been disrespectful in this temple, so I had to hire a sarong skirt (which was ok), and a lovely sky blue polyester man’s shirt to go over it.  Apart from the grave fashion error (those colours clashed!  What do you mean, it’s about respect and not about how I look?), it added another layer of clothes (man-made fibres, to boot) in the already scorching heat.  Reader, I was not at my most fragrant.

Still, it was worth it.  The temple and palace complex is dazzling.  It was a real joy to see the bright colours, and very distinctive Thai architecture.  How clearly it highlighted the fact that I wasn’t in China any more.  There were so many sloping rooves everwhere, and the colours… wow.  These people like their gold!  Gold leaf covers every temple roof, every statue.  It looks like an explosion in P Diddy’s jewelry box.  Reflecting the midday sun, the light it throws off is breathtaking.  Add to this the bright jewel-colours used to enhance the gold, well, just beautiful.  I saw the emerald buddha (which isn’t actually emerald at all – can I get my money back?), and wandered through the Royal Palace complex, which was just great.  It was especially interesting to see it being set up for the influx of VIPs over the next few days (including the aforementioned QEII), to celebrate with the king.  We were still able to wander around, which I really liked – it’s hard to imagine the same thing happening somewhere in the West.

I’d had enough temples, heat and polyester for the day, so I handed my dripping rented clothes back, headed back up-river to my hotel, and hit the pool.  Yep, it’s a relatively budget place, but the Rambuttri Village Inn has a rooftop pool (makes up for the narky staff, maybe?).  I donned my bikini and dove in, soaking up the last few rays of the day.  I got talking to the lovely and tres beau Sebastien, who hailed from Marseille, and he told me about the Thai version of Party in the Park, happening that evening, so we decided to meet up post-swim and head down there.

But first, the important business of eating!  Sebastien, being a true French homme, was as much as a foodie as I was, and, more to the point, being from Marseille, loved fish as much as I do.  We spotted some delicious-looking red mullet on a street stall, so ordered two of the biggest (naturellement) and some Singha beer to wash it down.  We got on like a maison on fire, and had much fun speaking a garbled mix of French and English that no doubt would have been unintelligable to anyone listening in.  He was horrified to discover that I, apparently, speak French with a Parisien accent (not surprisingly, considering the length of time I’ve spent in Paris over the years), and corrected this by training me in the sing-song Marseille accent – and, although I was loathe to encourage him to drop his French accent for speaking English, did my duty and taught him a few good Mancunian phrases.  My vocabulary of French swear words also doubled over the course of one meal (don’t worry mum, it doesn’t count if it’s in a foreign language).

Full and laughing, we wandered up to the public park where the party was happening.  And it was fun – if ever so slightly odd.  My favourite sight was three giant cinema screens, showing three different films (one period drama, one Will Smith gangsta-type thing, and one cowboy Western), but all the screens were right next to each other, and each was blasting out the soundtrack at ear-splitting decibel levels.  Still, the Thais were happily sitting and watching their film of choice – and no doubt they saved time by catching up on three films at once.  Taking multi-tasking to the extreme!

We spent ages watching a peculiar sport that neither of us had ever seen before, but seemed to be really popular in Thailand.  Two teams of about six men each gathered in a circle and, using a small, bouncy ball (that also seemed to be a bit weighted, like a bean bag), played a group version of ‘keep-up’, but aiming to get the ball in a net, high above their heads.  Basically they seemed to be using every part of their body except their arms, and there were some really spectacular back-flicks and balletic high jumps.  Completely bonkers, but good fun to watch.

After this, we went for a wander down Khao San Road, aka Backpacker Central of South-East Asia.  It was Sebastien’s last night in Thailand, and my first (of two!), so we both wanted to have a nosy.  It was interesting, but didn’t really encourage us to hang round.  There were quite a lot of people there who seem to have been in Thailand far too long – sporting dreads and hippy clothes (who would then open their mouths and speak with such an incongruously posh accent that you just knew they were called Tarquin and were spending the summer away on Daddy’s money).  Still, each to their own, and, just as that’s not for me, no doubt they wouldn’t enjoy what I’m doing.  Different strokes, and so on, Wilson.

We found a cool bar that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Manchester (apart from the cockroaches – we only get those in the dodgy parts of Manchester)(and no, before someone makes the obvious joke, that isn’t everywhere in town), and toasted a new friendship.

Sebastien was leaving the next morning, so we had breakfast and wished each other bon voyage (me with an invitation to Marseille and Courcheval in my pocket, he with an invitation to Manchester – boy, did he get the best deal), and I headed off to buy cheap drugs.  No, stop thinking that, you depraved creature, I was going off to a chemist to buy my malaria meds for Cambodia and Vietnam.  Because of the fabulous buy-anything, anyime, anywhere culture in Bangkok, I could get tablets that would have cost me about 50 pounds at home for 180 bhat – about 2 pounds 50.  Baaaaargain!  And no malaria, to boot!  Doesn’t get much better than that.

I had an insanely early start the next morning – up at 4am for the early bus to the Thai/Cambodian border, so I grabbed a chicken kebab and a portion of pad thai from a street vendor, packed, and headed off to my bed.  And how delighted I was to find that my aircon wasn’t working (I tell you, it’s a good job that hotel has the pool, otherwise they’d have virtually no redeeming features), so sweated my way through the night until I had to get up and head for Cambodia, a country I was really, really excited about visiting.

Right, I have a feeling I might need to apologise in advance for this one, as I might get a bit Ben Elton-ish (little bit of politics for you, folks), and this isn’t really the right forum for that – I don’t have the time or space to write about the ins and outs of the Chinese political system, and I’m certain you don’t have the inclination to read it. However, that said, the political regime invades every single aspect of everyday life in China, and it’s impossible not to come away with some thoughts about it. And this, being my metaphorical thought-bucket, is where I have to unload those thoughts, more for my own sanity than anything else, and you, dear reader, are my hapless prisoner. MWAH-HAH-hah (that’s my evil laugh).

In actual fact, you’re not my prisoner, so I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest if you left this post now and went and read Heat magazine and found out all about Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt (and if that child’s not headed for a lifetime of therapy with a name like that, then I’m a baby giraffe).

OK. Anyone left? Anyone? Hellooooo?

Ah.

The thing is, China is, more so than any other country I can think of – or at least have been to – a country with a simply astounding past. Regularly in museums do you see artefacts dating to thousands of years BC, and the cultural history is there to see, with every ancient pagoda or jade sculpture, and for this reason alone it is worth a visit.

4,000 years and counting of provable history, mostly of a nation of innovators, conquerors, survivors, and artists. Not too shabby, all in all. In fact, incredibly impressive.

Sadly, though, the lasting impression will be of an odd system that bears no resemblance to my understanding of communism. Now, I’ll be the first one to put my hand up and admit that my understanding of how communism is meant to work is limited, apart from a short time studying it for my history A Level. Most of which I have since forgotten. However, the vast majority of Chinese people seem hell-bent on pursuing some kind of paradise through the acquisition of material goods, which seems to me more like capitalism. I’m certainly not going to get into a discussion here of communism v capitalism – I know where I stand politically and am secure in that, however it’s never been my mission to be a political individual – but, if this is communism, I’m confused. There seems to have been a tacit agreement between the government and the people – we’ll do politics the old way, you carry on with life exactly as you want to, so long as you don’t cross the line. The shops on any given day are certainly thriving, and adverts for status symbols bombard you wherever you go, it’s inescapable.

And, goodness, do they come down hard on people who cross the line. Did you know that, seventeen years on from the Tian’anmen Square massacre, there are still people imprisoned for having the sheer gall to have staged an entirely peaceful protest against their dissatisfaction with the regime? People who have still not – and probably never will be – brought to trial. People who cross the line simply disappear. In Hong Kong, which is as close to democracy as can be seen in China at the moment, there are notices in certain areas telling the tale of certain Falun Gong (a form of meditative religion) practitioners who have been taken from their homes, apparently never to return, and even more disturbing than that, reports of body organs being taken from still-living people, for onward sale. I have no real evidence as to how accurate these reports are, but I’m inclined to believe there’s no smoke without fire – even if there is one grain of truth in it, it’s incredibly disturbing.

As I said, I’m not about to start a communism v capitalism debate, but another disturbing thing, and one that affected me personally, even as a non-Chinese national, is the sheer lack of information available to the average person. Everything, literally everything, is carefully monitored and controlled in order to give the best possible image of China, and filter through to an infinite level the information about the outside world. If the regime – any regime, not just communism – is so fantastic, why not let the people judge for themselves? Why not let them see what is happening in the outside world, and still decide to vote communist? Watching the CCTV English Channel, one has an insight into what it would be like to be bombarded with this at all times. All the news is ‘happy’ news, and there are such headlines as “And now, for the sports news the whole world is talking about – a Chinese sprinter has won his heat at an American Athletics tournament”. It was easy for me to watch with my ever-present cynical head on, as I’d only been absent from the liberal media for a few weeks, but imagine a lifetime of that, and it’s easy to see why you would probably start to believe it unconditionally. That, for my first few weeks in China I couldn’t access hotmail was incredibly annoying and frustrating, and also made me incredibly indignant, that (allegedly) the government of a country could decide to block an email site simply to better monitor what was being said, and also, that said email site would play along with the site, insisting that it was a technical error. My eye. Allegedly.

On the plus side, this leads to an incredible pride in their country, and a sheer conviction that China is best. When it is its simplest form, such patriotism is to be commended, surely. Children are encouraged to do well at school so they can serve their country to the best of their ability and, while I’m not sure about indoctrinating children before their opinions have had the chance to be formed, I think a smattering of this could be used elsewhere to encourage pride in your mother country. It was also noticeable that this was the first country where nobody, not once, asked me whether I like the country. In India, in Sri Lanka, everyone’s third question (after “Where from?” and “You are married?”) was “How do you like India/Sri Lanka?” Here, nobody asked. It was assumed that I liked it. It has also led to, I suppose, a fear of foreigners – not that many people speak English (not that I would expect them to – after all, I speak no Chinese), and you could sometimes see the terror in people’s eyes if I approached them. This was understandable. Less welcoming were the shouts of ‘laowai’ everywhere you go – a term for ‘foreigner’ that has an element of ‘old buffoon’ about it. Some people were blatantly rude, others were stand-offish (probably the fear), while a good percentage were open, friendly, and protective, even if they spoke no English. Certain things stand out, such as my memorable encounter through sign language with the train conductor, and the truly lovely Ivy who ran the cafe in Gulangyu that I frequented. Hopefully, with the upcoming Olympic Games and the ensuing influx of laowai, this fear will disappear entirely. On that note, I must say that I think they will do a wonderful job of hosting the Games. Beijing is a marvellous city and, human rights issues aside, they will do an amazing effort to present China in its best light. I’m looking forward to it already.
The other issue that really upset me was meeting the beautiful Carmen from Germany, currently 6 months pregnant, and her boyfriend, Jimpa (I’ve most likely spelt that wrong – it’s a Tibetan name). This is her first baby but, because Jimpa is from Tibet, he cannot get a passport. Simple as that – because of the region he is from, he is not allowed out of the country. So Carmen must have her baby in China, a prospect she is not relishing, because she understandably wants to stay with the man she loves, the father of her child. That’s the real face of today’s China.
I heard – again, I have no evidence to back it up – that China purchases 29% of the world’s steel. It cannot need so much and, if true, is surely stockpiling. Add this to other concerns such as the flooding of the Yangtze River by the Dam (for water to the Gobi desert and, more likely, for the incredible hydro-electric power it will produce) is displacing thousands of people and villages. The pollution is dreadful, just dreadful in some places, not helped by the over-reliance on cars. I have talked elsewhere about the smokers in China – I heard that China now accounts for one-third of all the world’s smokers. For these reasons, I would seriously urge you to think twice before you buy anything made in China. It’s up to you to make your own mind up, and I would never, could never, presume to tell you what to do, but please, think about it?
This, I know, is coming across as incredibly negative, but it truly isn’t meant to be so. There are some amazing things in China, hopefully by reading my other blog entries for the country this will become apparent – and I have had a wonderful, memorable month there – but there are some negatives that we need to start talking about as a global community, and soon. The world leaders aren’t doing much of a job, and it’s as if there’s a pink suede elephant in the room but no-one’s mentioning its presence. China certainly has huge potential – 1.3billion people, generally with an impressive patriotic work-ethic, under the right leadership they could be the world leader, not just a world player. Hopefully in the future, this will be the direction the country goes in. Above all, my experience at the candlelight vigil in Hong Kong shows that people there, and presumably that can be extrapolated to the rest of the mainland who do not have the luxury of political protests, peaceful or otherwise, are determined to make the country fair and equal for their children’s legacy and therefore, presumably, the world’s.

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