Banned From Bangkok

Debbie, Jessie, Monica, Jenny and Shannon; I hear-by decree that none of you shall ever enter Bangkok. Not that I have anything to say about it but it is for your own good. This city is a merchandizing nightmare. I ventured out on my own into the city today, jumping onto the Sky Train; I explored the city from three stories up. It was suggested to me by a couple at breakfast sitting one table away from me. They have been here numerous times and told me that it was must do to Sky Train to the Central Mall. I did but quickly became overwhelmed. The only way I can think to describe my impression is to evoke
an idea of a Persian Bazaar of old, married with the movie Blade Runner. There are shops of all kinds jammed together in a vast space 6 stories high encompassing two city blocks. Some of the stores are as small as 6x6 and one filled half of an entire floor this, was the Ikea/Target store. The rest varied from clothing, electronics… no I cannot do it; it would take a thousand words to name all of the different offerings in this space. I will tell you of just one corner; there was a metal artist who built bizarre futuristic sculptures in the liking of Terminator or the beast in Alien and all of them larger than life, some priced at 40,000.00 $’s. This was next door to a jewelry store, next door to a clothing store next door to a electronic shop, next door to a toy store, I turn the corner and I walk into a huge food market again with individual kiosks, with unlimited offerings there is even a Dunken Donuts. This food market is no different than any fantasy I have ever had of an Asian food market the only difference is this one is in side this huge mall and has a Dunken Donuts!
From what I saw today I think this entire city is a mall and what is not a mall is filled with street vendors and food carts. You name it and it is for sale here. Cheap stuff, expensive stuff, stuff, stuff and more stuff. Overwhelmed I decide to explore further but it did not change, everywhere I went there was more stuff for sale. And as Thailand is most famous for textiles the best deals were in the clothing stores. I am sorry girls but Bangkok is a merchandizing black hole that would swallow you up and I fear I would never see you again. First of all it would take you Shannon one week just to get through the first floor of Central Mall. It’s no secret that you are the deal queen methodically working the racks, looking for that special gem. Jenny and Jessie you would go straight to Fendi and Louis V, Debbie you would be bouncing around like a pinball and Monica you would be laughing your ass off moving between the crews. There is a mall next door to Central that was again bigger than any I have every seen but this one was the exclusive mall every high end store that exists was present in the once again six story space, and did I mention the jewelry! And watches I have never seen so many watch stores in my life much less in the same place at the same time, watches I have never heard of. This is a strange city, as I was walking through this maze I began to wonder who buys all this stuff then I began to notice that all the stores were busy. For a city that has the reputation of extreme rich and extreme poor there sure was a huge herd of people buying everything in sight! As I have already mentioned the best deals are textile related and or hand made. The only thing cheaper in Bangkok than clothes is people. This is a city where sex can cost less than a Martini. I have seen this before but it has been a long time and I had forgotten how sad and confusing this is for me. Standing on the train landing outside of the fancy mall I look down and see that right next door to the mall is a huge shantytown. Most of the dwellings made of corrugated aluminum some as simple as lean-to’s. It appeared that the kitchens are communal as are any facilities they may have or not. These are people who will never walk into the mall next door and most likely never think about the possibility.
I have always been confused by this extreme separation of those who have choices and those who do not those who are safe and those who are not. While passing one of these Shantytowns I asked ET my guide if this was common in Bangkok. He told me that there is one that is home to 500,000 people. He said this is a very dangerous place drugs, prostitution, mostly controlled by gangs, I trust him on this one.
I flash back again too 1962 visiting Manila. My Dad’s brother was one of the riches men in the Philippines Uncle Bob. For forty years his wealth extended to Hong Kong, Bangkok and beyond. We were there for Christmas Uncle Bob gave me a very nice watch. We were taking a tour of some of his business’s the main stop was to be his number one TV station, channel seven. He loved his TV station. Even though he was into big time business he always stayed committed to his Lucky Seven Children’s show; he was the Captain Kangaroo of the Philippines his stage name was Uncle Bob. Everyone in the Philippines knew him as Uncle Bob even his business relations called him this it became his name. As we were traveling on this tour I remember sitting in the back of the limousine with my Dad, Uncle Bob and my cousin Leslie. We were going through one of the poorest sections of Manila. At that time you could not go from any point to another and avoid this. At one point a crowd of people gathered around the car the driver could not move forward as he might hurt someone. They were putting their faces and hands on the windows of the car to see who was inside. My Dad and Uncle Bob and my cousin Leslie were totally unaffected by this I however was. As I sat and watched Bob and my dad sit drinking there scotch and smoking their cigarettes people who were the furthest extreme from this reality were smashing their faces against the window of the car they just kept on talking. The driver rolled down his window and tossed a cigarette outside, the crowd rushed after it and a fight broke out over the smoke this broke up the crowd enough to allow us to drive away. As we were; I noticed a little boy squatting to defecate.
I was so confuse by this that I carried the memory with me and I was torn. How could my Dad and Uncle Bob both my hero’s up to this point just sit there and not be affected. I asked myself why does the rest of the world let people live this way. I understand better now but at that time I was young and very impressionable. No one took the time to explain it to me and I from that point forward carried a negative judgment of not only of the two of them but of capitalists in general. I made some of my life choices as a result of this and I wonder if there would have been a different outcome in my life had I not carried this wound with me for so many years.
Truth is Uncle Bob was a hero to the people of the Philippines not all of course but he did have a very positive impact on the economics and the culture of the Philippines. He gave back in many ways. After Uncle Bob died a few years back while visiting Las Vegas a few months after his death I took it upon myself to speak to the people I came upon working there who were Filipino. There is a huge population of Filipino people working in the Casinos in Las Vegas. I first confirmed that they were Filipino and then I introduced myself as Uncle Bob’s nephew (I was his only real nephew.) They all remembered him as most of the people I spoke with were close to my age and therefore grew up with the Lucky Seven Club. One woman told me that I should be very proud to be the nephew of Uncle Bob, she went on to say that Uncle Bob was very good to the Philippines he was a hero to the people. When they buried Uncle Bob the government sent an armed guard and they gave him a 21 gun salute and presented the family with an award of some sort. So in the end they gave him a hero’s burial. I wish I would have known Uncle Bob better and I am sorry that I judged him without understanding. There are many people in the world who are doing great work in supporting the growth of the world they should all be honored and I only wish there was more we could do. There is so much to do, and then I ask myself “What am I doing to feed the poor?”
Or more simply "To Ghange the World"