Smiles
December 14th, 2007, 12:06
THE SOI DOG SHUFFLE
This particular dance may not be observed very much in Bangkok, but in a small pop town like Hua Hin (normally 35,000 Thai souls I believe, swelling to 5.8 million flabby farangs in December, January & February) one notices it fairly quickly if observant enough: Thai folks do not cross roads like we westerners do ... i.e. they don't stop, look, wait, walk as we have been taught from childhood. That technique wastes time and is too lacking in grace (stop, start, hesitate, mind-changing, confused and/or terrified looks), efficiency. and ~ most importantly ~ fearlessness.
Thais tango across the street, waltzing not to the background heaviness of 19th century German composers, but to the blaring of Isaan dance tunes firing on all cylinders from sidewalk noodle stalls.
Thais don't stop and look ... they go and look. They dive from the curb into a hullabaloo of 100cc Honda Waves and hulking Toyota mini buses and my old man's Nissan pickup (yep, he's no better than any Thai once behind the wheel). They miss motorbike rear view mirrors by centimeters and place their next step into the same space that a Big Blue Bangkok Bus's wheel just drove through not a millisecond before . . . the whole dance across to the other side characterised by a heads up, face forward sleepy gaze of ethereal nonchalance, as opposed to the Frightened-Deer-in-Headlight eye-bulge of western tourists who never seem to 'get' the concept that on Thai streets anything can come at one from any direction, all at once, at any time.
Thais make it (usually) across the street oblivious to the potential carnage. He/she's dodged it all with seldom more than a small dip of the hip, a quick (never startled though) move sideways to shrink the profile (all the better to move unseen between a garbage truck trying to pass a semi in a soi) . . . at the same time turning around waving or yelling at his/her just friend left behind still eating noodles and gesticulating dramatically with a set of flying chopsticks. Thais crossing streets could snatch babies off motorcycles with little more than a rapid arm movement, so close are they to the 5-abreast Yamaha, the kid waving to be rescued from his seat on the gas tank.
And even better . . . all soi dogs know this dance off by heart and emulate it to perfection. Which begs the old question: which came first, the Dance or the Dog?
'CHOPPING' AT TESCO & HOMEPRO AT THE MALL
Off to buy, in no particular order, a 32 inch (or thereabouts) TV, a decent stereo system, and a hot water heater.
Head to the mall, pass by all sorts of consumerisms, artwork, KFC, Starbucks, Swensens Ice Cream, Japanese food places (?), clean bathrooms with no glory holes, and head first into HomePro (second floor, higher end, lighting more flattering to my face). Then to Tesco (first floor, cheap stuff, bright lights) and made a beeline for the TV/Stereo sections ... start browsing with serious visages, the occasional frown, and quiet whispers about this & that ... at various big ass flat screen TV's (Sony's, Panasonics, LGs, Sharps, Samsungs) all brightly flashing with the most incredible High Def Digital imagery on the face of the earth.
We (that is to say, my guy & myself) hover like this, alone and together, mesmerized at the, well, availability. The choices! The prices! The lusciousness of the very thought of entering, of possessing, digital heaven!
But alas . . . the togetherness, the glory of 'doing this together', the camaraderie of decision-making was shattered within 20 seconds, as we are immediately surrounded on all sides by The Sales People.
In fact, it was not really immediate in the beginning. The Help Police started as one, then soon began to take on the appearance of a Niagara falls of human beings in red shirts (this was Tesco, but HomePro was no different) all taking very seriously the penultimate characteristics of Thai Customer Service: (1) attack in overwhelming numbers, (2) follow the prey without letup, no matter where he goes, and (3) pay no heed to the phrase "... just looking thanks ...".
Our group ~ by now 7, with a few leaving, only to replaced in shifts by others ... who of course had to be updated by the other 6 on the progress of the Possible Purchase ~ moved down the aisle like a ballet troupe doing parts of Swan Lake in perfect harmony. Then, out of the blue, against all common sense, we stood parked in awe in front of The Deal.
A 32 inch Panasonic flat screen with the most beautiful picture I've ever seen. It shimmered (as did I), it glowed (as did my face), the sound was perfection . . . . AND IT WAS MARKED DOWN TO 19,000 BAHT!!!
We looked at it, then at each other, then nodded in tandem (we ain't poker players, for sure). All of the others of the same size, similar quality brands, same configurations were at least 8-12,000 baht more. This was the one!
So I did the numbers (a hand calculator appearing as if by magic from the black hole centre of the Corps de Ballet), checked the wallet, checked if I had brought the Visa card, checked one more time with the beloved to make sure he was happy ( he was :blackeye: ). We then announced grandly to The Group (I had forgotten who was our original sales dude) that " ... we'll take it ... ".
This seemed to cause some degree of consternation amongst the dance company. I ~ my Thai being pathetic ~ assumed that they did not understand the "we'll take it" phrase, so I asked Pot to say it in Thai. Which he did.
One of the group spoke a little english, and after more consultation with the Red Guards, said to me " ... just minute please sir, wait ... ". He left and hurried off down the aisle, coming back in a few minutes with an older lady (in beige) who carried a large notebook. The group ~ en masse ~ pointed out the agreed-on TV and the price tag below it. She looked at it, touched it, spoke to herself about it, then opened up her big notebook to a page and ran her finger down the length of it, stopping about three quarters of the way down. " ... No have ... " she said severely.
Stunned (naturally ... as there was one sitting there ~ on ~ in front of us on the shelf) I asked what did she mean. This started large noisy conversation deep within the darkest bowels of the group-of-seven . . . made even noisier because now my guy was getting into the fray with his own noise.
In the end it turned out that the shelf model was the only one left at that price . . . and we couldn't have it. Why? I have no idea why, and neither does my guy. The TV was there on the shelf. The ticket plainly read marked down to 19,000 baht (the price itself was never in dispute ... it was not a mistake). Who were they going to sell it to? Were they ever going to sell it? Why was it on the shelf if it was not for sale?
Denouement: we got back to the hotel, beaten and demoralized. Suphot actually used the phrase " ... amazing Thailand ... "
The next day we bought a Sony from HomePro. Same configuration, same size, only 1000 baht more than the Tesco disappointment. This one was apparently a "promotion" from Sony and the store had only received 5 at the price ... as at Tesco this was the last one also! Gun-shy by now, I waited for the worst.
But no problem. All went smoothly and glory be, the Kirov Ballet numbered only three.
We walked away with a nice TV, at a good price, and two black Sony polo shirts thrown in for good measure. We met one of the salesmen from the Tesco fiasco on the way downstairs, and Pot showed him the new purchase.
Cheers ...
This particular dance may not be observed very much in Bangkok, but in a small pop town like Hua Hin (normally 35,000 Thai souls I believe, swelling to 5.8 million flabby farangs in December, January & February) one notices it fairly quickly if observant enough: Thai folks do not cross roads like we westerners do ... i.e. they don't stop, look, wait, walk as we have been taught from childhood. That technique wastes time and is too lacking in grace (stop, start, hesitate, mind-changing, confused and/or terrified looks), efficiency. and ~ most importantly ~ fearlessness.
Thais tango across the street, waltzing not to the background heaviness of 19th century German composers, but to the blaring of Isaan dance tunes firing on all cylinders from sidewalk noodle stalls.
Thais don't stop and look ... they go and look. They dive from the curb into a hullabaloo of 100cc Honda Waves and hulking Toyota mini buses and my old man's Nissan pickup (yep, he's no better than any Thai once behind the wheel). They miss motorbike rear view mirrors by centimeters and place their next step into the same space that a Big Blue Bangkok Bus's wheel just drove through not a millisecond before . . . the whole dance across to the other side characterised by a heads up, face forward sleepy gaze of ethereal nonchalance, as opposed to the Frightened-Deer-in-Headlight eye-bulge of western tourists who never seem to 'get' the concept that on Thai streets anything can come at one from any direction, all at once, at any time.
Thais make it (usually) across the street oblivious to the potential carnage. He/she's dodged it all with seldom more than a small dip of the hip, a quick (never startled though) move sideways to shrink the profile (all the better to move unseen between a garbage truck trying to pass a semi in a soi) . . . at the same time turning around waving or yelling at his/her just friend left behind still eating noodles and gesticulating dramatically with a set of flying chopsticks. Thais crossing streets could snatch babies off motorcycles with little more than a rapid arm movement, so close are they to the 5-abreast Yamaha, the kid waving to be rescued from his seat on the gas tank.
And even better . . . all soi dogs know this dance off by heart and emulate it to perfection. Which begs the old question: which came first, the Dance or the Dog?
'CHOPPING' AT TESCO & HOMEPRO AT THE MALL
Off to buy, in no particular order, a 32 inch (or thereabouts) TV, a decent stereo system, and a hot water heater.
Head to the mall, pass by all sorts of consumerisms, artwork, KFC, Starbucks, Swensens Ice Cream, Japanese food places (?), clean bathrooms with no glory holes, and head first into HomePro (second floor, higher end, lighting more flattering to my face). Then to Tesco (first floor, cheap stuff, bright lights) and made a beeline for the TV/Stereo sections ... start browsing with serious visages, the occasional frown, and quiet whispers about this & that ... at various big ass flat screen TV's (Sony's, Panasonics, LGs, Sharps, Samsungs) all brightly flashing with the most incredible High Def Digital imagery on the face of the earth.
We (that is to say, my guy & myself) hover like this, alone and together, mesmerized at the, well, availability. The choices! The prices! The lusciousness of the very thought of entering, of possessing, digital heaven!
But alas . . . the togetherness, the glory of 'doing this together', the camaraderie of decision-making was shattered within 20 seconds, as we are immediately surrounded on all sides by The Sales People.
In fact, it was not really immediate in the beginning. The Help Police started as one, then soon began to take on the appearance of a Niagara falls of human beings in red shirts (this was Tesco, but HomePro was no different) all taking very seriously the penultimate characteristics of Thai Customer Service: (1) attack in overwhelming numbers, (2) follow the prey without letup, no matter where he goes, and (3) pay no heed to the phrase "... just looking thanks ...".
Our group ~ by now 7, with a few leaving, only to replaced in shifts by others ... who of course had to be updated by the other 6 on the progress of the Possible Purchase ~ moved down the aisle like a ballet troupe doing parts of Swan Lake in perfect harmony. Then, out of the blue, against all common sense, we stood parked in awe in front of The Deal.
A 32 inch Panasonic flat screen with the most beautiful picture I've ever seen. It shimmered (as did I), it glowed (as did my face), the sound was perfection . . . . AND IT WAS MARKED DOWN TO 19,000 BAHT!!!
We looked at it, then at each other, then nodded in tandem (we ain't poker players, for sure). All of the others of the same size, similar quality brands, same configurations were at least 8-12,000 baht more. This was the one!
So I did the numbers (a hand calculator appearing as if by magic from the black hole centre of the Corps de Ballet), checked the wallet, checked if I had brought the Visa card, checked one more time with the beloved to make sure he was happy ( he was :blackeye: ). We then announced grandly to The Group (I had forgotten who was our original sales dude) that " ... we'll take it ... ".
This seemed to cause some degree of consternation amongst the dance company. I ~ my Thai being pathetic ~ assumed that they did not understand the "we'll take it" phrase, so I asked Pot to say it in Thai. Which he did.
One of the group spoke a little english, and after more consultation with the Red Guards, said to me " ... just minute please sir, wait ... ". He left and hurried off down the aisle, coming back in a few minutes with an older lady (in beige) who carried a large notebook. The group ~ en masse ~ pointed out the agreed-on TV and the price tag below it. She looked at it, touched it, spoke to herself about it, then opened up her big notebook to a page and ran her finger down the length of it, stopping about three quarters of the way down. " ... No have ... " she said severely.
Stunned (naturally ... as there was one sitting there ~ on ~ in front of us on the shelf) I asked what did she mean. This started large noisy conversation deep within the darkest bowels of the group-of-seven . . . made even noisier because now my guy was getting into the fray with his own noise.
In the end it turned out that the shelf model was the only one left at that price . . . and we couldn't have it. Why? I have no idea why, and neither does my guy. The TV was there on the shelf. The ticket plainly read marked down to 19,000 baht (the price itself was never in dispute ... it was not a mistake). Who were they going to sell it to? Were they ever going to sell it? Why was it on the shelf if it was not for sale?
Denouement: we got back to the hotel, beaten and demoralized. Suphot actually used the phrase " ... amazing Thailand ... "
The next day we bought a Sony from HomePro. Same configuration, same size, only 1000 baht more than the Tesco disappointment. This one was apparently a "promotion" from Sony and the store had only received 5 at the price ... as at Tesco this was the last one also! Gun-shy by now, I waited for the worst.
But no problem. All went smoothly and glory be, the Kirov Ballet numbered only three.
We walked away with a nice TV, at a good price, and two black Sony polo shirts thrown in for good measure. We met one of the salesmen from the Tesco fiasco on the way downstairs, and Pot showed him the new purchase.
Cheers ...