By Fikri Jermadi

It was late afternoon at the Duang Prateep Foundation.

The scene: Juli, Kerry Ann, Shazana and May Yee sitting at the end of the steps shaking their heads at yet another one of my lame jokes.

The scenario: Malina at the end of her wits as I made up for the semester she spent in Australia. We were all waiting for Sze Ning and her group to finish interviewing some of the slum residents. Then Malina had a bright idea.

“Fikri,” she said, looking at me in the way that makes me feel as autistic as my brother (probably true, that). “OK, how about we try this, OK? Let’s make it so that whenever you have to do…that thing of yours, that you do…” she tailed off, trying to find the right words. “Whenever you have to do one of them, you should make a sign, indicating that you want to say those statements you want to make.”

“A sign?” I asked, wondering how serious she is.

“Yes, a sign,” she replied, her right hand loosely holding her left. “This is so that we know that you want to make those jokes and statements. And then we will decide whether you can say it or not.”

She paused. “Just until tomorrow at least. You can last that long.”

I pondered that for a bit. “Does that apply to all jokes and statements?”

“Yes.”

“What if I think that the joke or statement is not lame, but you guys think it is?”

“Well….that will be your prerogative. But knowing you, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

I smiled. “Knowing me I will probably be making that sign all the time!”

Pause. “Yes.”

I fell quiet again, thinking like a lawyer trying to see the loopholes in a contract offer. “What if I’m pointing out something obvious that is lame? It’s not something that I am creating.”

“Well…you still have to do the sign.”

She’s good , I thought, feeling like a rat in a trapped box. The crowd, by now, is looking on in rapt attention; I notice Juli trying to stifle a smile. But she doesn’t have to be.

“What is the sign like?” I asked, trying to buy more time.

“Err…like this.”

Hmm

“What if I want to say something that is lame, but it’s on a smaller scale?”

“Then you make this.”

“OK, OK…” I said, mentally picturing myself standing back and holding up both hands, but not quite doing so. “What if I do that? What happens next?”

“Then you will have to wait until someone said, ‘What’s funny, Fikri?’”

“What if no one says that?”

“Then that’s too bad.”

I let a hint of desperation enter my voice. “But if it’s really good…?”

“Then you have to be patient, and hope that someone says the magic words.” She finished that sentence with a smile.

Damn.

“What if I don’t do it?”

“Then for every time you break it, we add on an extra hour to the deal.”

The more I looked at it, the more it reminds me of the Lame Ban that I undertook for a month earlier this year. We all know how that turned out…

“Alright,” I agreed. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Malina replied, stretching her smile. Behind her, the rest of the gang did the same.

I smiled as well. I outlasted the Lame Ban. I’ll outlast this. History shall repeat itself.

[Editor’s note: Our initial plan was that the ban was to last for 24 hours. But he’s still doing the sign. Perhaps he misheard. I haven’t the heart to remind him that he’s been free to say anything anytime for the past two days.]

By Shazana

Riding in a cab on the way back from Patpong, Sasi, Malina, Fikri and myself were pulled to the curb by the Thai police. I knew this was probably a routine security check, but I could not help but feel a little adrenaline rush. The plot of the film Brokedown Palace, began to flash across my mind - two young tourists who come to Thailand, in search of fun, and ended up being falsely prosecuted on charges of smuggling heroine.

With torch lights beaming down upon our faces, the policemen stood by the car windows, two on each side of the car, curiously asking us where we were from, after realising that we could not speak the Thai language.

“Malaysia”, I replied hesitantly, unsure, for some reason, whether it was wise or not to disclose such information.

Soon we were all politely asked to step out of the car. They shuffled through our bags and requested for our passports – all done in friendly gesture. Satisfied with our documents, they sent us back into the car – phew!

It was good thing that we had all brought our passports. I dare not even dream about what would have happened if we had not…

Relating the story to Dr Yeoh, he said that perhaps the security checks were related to the series of bomb attacks on the London transport network which happened that morning and reportedly killed 33 people.

Or perhaps, it was really nothing to shout and bang about – just a regular security check – something that happens all over the world.

By Aaron

Arriving at the Bangkok International Airport was pretty much of an excitement for me. Had no idea what to expect from the people, the place and especially the means of transportation. I’ve heard so much about the famous ‘tuk tuk’ and the infamous taxi drivers! I hate it when I’m right.

We took cabs from the airport to our inn, and the first thing that caught my attention was the cab itself. Why? Because it’s a Toyota. As luxurious as the cab may be, the cabbies were sure ‘Proton’ quality. Out of the three cab rides I’ve had so far, two drove like Michael Schumacher and one like Alex Yoong.

Another thing I found rather amusing was how little these cabbies knew about the roads. It was funny watching these cabbies jumping out of the car and running on a busy road towards another fellow cabbie to ask for directions. The irony of the situation was simply overwhelming. We reached the inn 20 minutes after everyone else, but funny thing is, our fare was the cheapest.

On the second day, we had to take buses as they were far cheaper compared to cabs. The bus ride was horrifying, and getting into one is like an eternal wait. The heat in Bangkok played a major role in the torment as we waited restlessly for the buses to arrive under the hot and humid weather. The first bus we took had no air-conditioning. It was so hot and stuffy I had to admit it wasn’t fun. After that, all
the buses we took had air-conditioning, but by then, the weather had cooled from the dark clouds and rain.

The roads in Bangkok are frequently jammed up, filled with tuk tuks, cabs and colourful buses. But there’s no stopping Bangkok drivers from dodging anything in its path. It’s like David Beckham attempting to dribble past an Italian defense - get the picture?

So far, we have encountered several near collisions and seen a motorcycle slammed against a cab at the traffic lights.

Riding a tuk tuk was simply an experience for me today. I’ve ridden tuk tuks in Haatyai before and they were pretty decent in terms of accelerating to a safe speed limit, but the ones in Bangkok are like turbo charged. Tuk tuk drivers here tend to speed as much as they can and then suddenly jam their breaks to either avoid collision with another vehicle or stop at the lights.

They also do not hesitate to pile passengers into small seating areas. The seats, which are probably able to fit three skinny Asians are packed up to four and sometimes five people! I sat at the side, next to the seats on a small curb in the tuk tuk, as there were already three people in it. After the tuk tuk ride, my butt felt seriously ill and my legs were in a coma.

I’m beginning to appreciate the Malaysian public transportation much more now.

By Sze Ning

We have already tried five modes of transportation here in Bangkok. We have taken cabs, the bus, the train, and most commonly, we walked. The most exciting way to get around the city is–hands down– the tuk tuk.

Thus far, our biggest convoy on the tuk tuk was after the Queer Conference on Friday. It took four tuk tuks to take all 19 of us back to the Khao San area, near our hotel.

Second in line

The editorial team in a tuk tuk flew past us so fast, resulting in this barely visible picture of them.

Wwwwweeeee

Tuk tuks are not much cheaper than cabs and if you are an unsuspecting traveler, it might cost you a bomb. It offers none of the comforts of a well cushioned cab while offering you dangers akin to traveling by a motorbike.

Well, maybe more dangerous. We went to the OTHER SIDE of the road quite often in our 20 minutes journey. Gasp.

However, their small size and daredevil drivers make them a handy mode of transport during the rush hour.

This was why we took a tuk tuk.

I am delighted to report that all four tuk tuks brought us all home safe and in good time yesterday.

Sight of the Democracy Monument is a sight of relief to all of us traveling via public transportation, as Khao San road where we live is only a stone’s throw away from this majestic monument.

By Sasi

When Dr Yeoh first asked me to write a piece whilst in Bangkok for the study trip, my first objection was that my background is in accounting and not writing! But here I am…

I agreed to write about traditional Thai massage during Dr Yeoh’s pre-departure briefing knowing very well that it would be a fun experience. And it certainly was.

On the day after we arrived, the six of us went looking for a reputable massage centre along Khao San Road. I had persuaded Malina and Wanie to come along with Sze Mun, Li Yien and Suet Ying. The first centre we went to looked a little dodgy so we decided to move on until we found one that looked more presentable - perhaps one minus the smelly drains, surly staff and suspect felines.

This centre turned out to be really comfortable and welcoming with friendly looking masseurs. We were ushered to the second floor after making payment and here our feet were washed with soap and water and gently towel-dried. It was such a luxury to be pampered that way! And that was just the beginning….

Since I was the only one who had opted for the oil massage, instead of the traditional Thai massage, I was asked to go to the highest floor. Once I got there, the masseurs asked me to strip to my birthday suit and lie down on the mattress.

Magic fingers worked their way through my pores, kneading gently with fragrant oil. The next hour was pure bliss and I had to remind myself to stay awake to enjoy the sensation.

That night I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed and did not even hear the knocks on my doors when the others came to call me for drinks.

Looks like there will definitely be another visit to the massage centre before we say goodbye to the Land of Smiles. And this time around, the traditional Thai massage will be the order for the day! Sawasdee!