Bangkok

Today was day two of our four-day Bangkok trip. Unit five focuses on people's movements and trends, so we've come here to the capital, the other "city of angels", to meet and exchange with several NGOs, government representatives, and personalities. Take yesterday, for example. We met with this amazing social critic, Sulak Sivaraksa. He is a seventy-four year old man who has written prolifically on Thai-ness, socially-aware Buddhism, and life. Twice he has been charged with les mageste (or criticizing the king, a serious charge here, where one must love the monarchy by law); twice he has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

And we got to question him and get his insight.

But that all was yesterday.

Today we had an exchange in the morning with Jon Ungpakorn, an activist and national chair of NGO-CORD, the coordinating organization in Thailand of the country's NGOs. He not only has amazing insight into organizing and facillitating all these different bodies, but he has a personal history of activism and social awareness. His father founded one of the major Bangkok universities (I forget... I think Thamasaht), and Jon was educated abroad. When he returned in the early '70s, Thailand's student revolt -- and the resulting bloody reaction from the regime -- was going on. He got involved with the students, and worked with many of the early NGOs emerging in the eighties.

Like many of the "wise old men" we meet, he not only had a fascinating history, but has insight into the current situations here in Thailand. He gave advice as to how we, as socially-interested students and individuals, can continue to be so. After the sessions, I grabbed the voice recorder I borrowed from Pete to get his comments on record for my project. My role this unit is so-call "unit production." Basically, I do a project this unit. I'm doing a radio documentary on the Thai protest songs that resulted out of the above-mentioned students' movement of the 19070s -- plang pua chi wit ("Songs for life"). Watch out Ira Glass. I'm excited to be improving my interview skills, plus I hope to be able to play this on the radio for What the Folk (my college radio folk show) next semester.

You know, despite everything the Khao San Road represents in Bangkok -- the garish lights, consumerism, and tourist trash -- you have to hand it to them for the aray of good, cheap vegetarian food. At a tucked-away Israli restaurant, I dined on falafel, as Sasha, Kevin and I discussed what we've seen here and where our group's at. Our group has decided to have a "group vision" to guide our final projects. Last night we started forming that vision, and now it looks something like a manifesto. It's exciting to think how our ideas shape the world. Little Che Guveras rest inside each heart, I guess.

viva la revolution.

Post lunch, the vans battled through the treacherous Bangkok traffic to the National Human Rights Commissioner's office. The woman, Sunee Chaiyarose, seems really cool and well-informed, but I was mentally a little checked-out from the whole proceedings. I just remember though, that the room was overly-air conditioned. I could see city-scape from the skyscraper's windows. It reminded me of DC in the winter. Sigh.

Decha -- adviser, activist, and friend of the program -- met a few of us at a wat downtown after the session. His mother died yesterday. CIEE, I suppose in the spirit of friendship, was one of the hosts at the funeral. We as students, representatives of the program, were to pay respect as hosts. We entered the wat. The casket was at the front of the room along with at least twenty huge bouquets, wreaths of flowers. In front of the casket was a small table with incense burning on it. The visitors wore black, so our street clothes looked slightly out of place. However, it wasn't disrespectful.

From my understanding, a Thai funeral is different from an American one. Alejandro, at the slum homestay, arrived the day after a member of the family died. He was invited to the funeral and describes it as a celebration of life, not a mouring of death. He said no one cried, except the man's little niece in the corner. Thai's readily invite outsiders like us students.

We lined up to pay respect. First we waied to the Buddha image, three times as is customary. Then we, kneeling before the coffin, lit sticks of incense together. We briefly waied the coffin. Returning to the rest of the congregation, they passed out refreshments -- cough drops, hard candies and water. The monks, wearing their orange robes, entered and sat on their raised platform to the side. They would begin cycles of chanting that lasted a total of about thirty-five minutes, five minutes each. Each time they began chanting, everyone held the wai position -- kind of like a prayer position in the Christian church.

It's strange thinking of this view of death. I guess I don't fully understand it; I still have only seen it as an outsider. Watching Decha sit silently, still-ly with the rest of us, he was impossible to read. Same thing for his younger sister and father. I started thinking of why the world developed funeral rights. If a loved-one dies, your anchors are cut in a way and I guess it would be easy to just go crazy doing nothing. These strange death rituals we have are a way of having a pre-defined path, having something definite and concrete to do to guide the devastated.

It's late now. Alyssa, Pete, Anne and I have been wandering around the Khao San Road the past few hours after dinner, and I hadn't realized the time until I sat down here at this internet cafe. I'll wrap up now. Tomorrow we have a late night potentially. We speak with another Nobel nominee, the female monk Dhammananda, in the morning, and in the evening we're speaking with sex-workers' NGO as well as touring various bars. It promises to be another experience.

Good night.