Affable Bangkok Governor Sukhumbhand Paribatra eschews the "f" word. He's made it clear that from now on, he never wants to hear it again.
That is a very unlikely scenario, and not because of the company he keeps. The governor's "f" word is not the same one you and I know (or use), but in his mind it's just as potent.
Governor Sukhumbhand has weathered a number of recent storms -- being ejected from his own political party, an outrageous office renovation budget, and those overpriced fairy lights at the end of last year -- through which he has maintained his serene composure.
That is what is endearing about the man who garnered 45% of the votes in the Bangkok governor elections of 2009. The softly spoken descendant of royalty has a winning smile and remains popular.
He has a sense of humour too; he was the first man I ever saw dance Gangnam Style in front of TV cameras, and he didn't do a bad job of it.
But everybody has his or her limits. The governor has an Achilles heel, and it is currently soaking in the floodwaters of Bangkok.
Not that he would ever refer to last Monday's deluge as a flood. As of now, it is water waiting to drain away. And that's a gubernatorial order.
Last week the media broadcast uncomfortable pictures of the governor wearing yellow rubber boots standing in water. It was after the Monday night rains that flooded the streets and paralysed Bangkok traffic.
These were uncomfortable pictures because you did not have to be a clairvoyant to read the governor's thoughts, masked badly behind a pained facial expression: "Get me outta here. Put me anywhere but here."
I sympathise with Governor Sukhumbhand. I, too, have attended official events where I have bargained my soul with the devil in order to be magically whisked out of the five-star hotel ballroom and into a seedy bar off Silom.
Just last month I attended a press conference featuring a display of delightful traditional Thai music. Well, the first 15 minutes were delightful. The rest I cannot remember; I was too preoccupied fighting back the tears my autonomic nervous system was determined to send rolling down my cheeks.
Poor Governor Sukhumbhand was fighting back tears last Tuesday, too, as he stood knee-deep in water. It had to have been a case of deja vu. Running a city is no easy feat; running one that floods constantly must be torturous.
Throughout his tenure he has fought floods, along with the perceived lack of efficiency of the Bangkok Metropolitan Administration, or BMA, in building and administering floodgates and water tunnels.
This October marks five years since the great flood of 2011, in which a helpless BMA and equally helpless national government panicked as half the city went underwater for three months.
The BMA became embroiled in a political cat and mouse game with the then-government. The BMA is controlled by the Democrats, while the government was controlled by the red shirts and Yingluck Shinawatra.
That experience must have left a terrible taste in the governor's mouth. After it, the BMA announced it was building an effective drainage system featuring super-tunnels that would eliminate the threat of another great flood, but five years later, the system still isn't in place.
Every time he is asked about it, his serene manner morphs into frustration.
There was a famous incident from early last year when reporters asked how the drainage system was coming along.
"Look, we are a city of water. We are a city of rain. If you want to avoid floods, go live on a mountain top," he barked, albeit in softly spoken style. One second later, the wrath of the online community, especially those in flood-prone Bangkok areas, descended upon him.
Last week it was a frowning, beleaguered Bangkok governor who ventured out into flooded Bangkok after that particularly bad downfall. And once again, he weathered questions about why, in 2016, drainage tunnel construction was not yet complete.
"Look, we are a city of water, a city of rain," he reiterated. "And stop calling it a flood. Call it 'water waiting to drain'. If you call it a flood, people will think we're back in 2011."
This is an English translation. He asked Thais not to use the word nam tuam any longer, and instead use the clunky nam ror rabai instead.
No matter what the language, it does reflect the frustration of the governor in the flood situation. He doesn't want to hear the word flood ever again; it's like hearing the name of your ex-spouse after an acrimonious divorce where you lost half your assets. Just her name jolts your nervous system and sends adrenaline angrily coursing through your veins. That's "flood" to Sukhumbhand -- at least until those super tunnels are finished.
While there were ripples of media ridicule at this new vocabulary to describe an F-L-double-O-D, the practice of avoiding calling a spade a spade is not without precedent in this country.
Look at the terrorism that exists in the South of Thailand -- bombs, beheadings, stabbings and shootings with the targets being teachers, Buddhist monks and soldiers.
This is terrorism on a daily basis. Despite this, if you scan the English or Thai media you will never, ever, find it referred to as that.
It is insurgency, and those evil types blowing up monks are insurgents.
An insurgent is a rebel or a reactionary, which sounds a little nicer than "terrorist", much the same way "that she-devil who stole half my money" is easier to say than "Delores" … or the comforting "water waiting to drain" instead of you-know-what.
I have asked numerous people, both well-informed and otherwise, why this is the case. It boils down to the international community; if we call it "terrorism", then the world community will butt its head into our affairs.
You see the same evasion with the bombing of Erawan Shrine last August. It is never referred to an act of terror, for that would mean us getting into hot water with China, home of the Uighur terrorists -- I beg your pardon, Uighur men who allegedly let off the bombs.
But back to our governor.
I forgive him for his outburst last week; I, too, have been known to say ludicrous things in the heat of the moment.
In meetings, for example, if one of my staff talks about a "problem", I am quick to hold up my right palm to invoke silence.
"In this office we don't have problems, Somchai," I say, doing my best Noam Chomsky imitation. I close my eyes and cock my head. "We have but challenges we can overcome."
Well-intentioned, I know, and an integral part of any skit performed by my staff that requires my character, performed far away from my office to muffle the guffaws of the audience.
Anyway, the governor's request is not without precedent; we have successfully changed the names of things before in this country. The methamphetamine known as ya ba ("crazy drug") used to be known as ya ma ("horse drug"). And who calls Witthayu Road "Wireless" any longer, not counting low-level diplomatic staff?
Governor Sukhumbhand is well educated, having gone to Oxford University in the UK and Georgetown University in Washington DC. He knows ridding the Thai language of nam tuam is an impossible task.
He probably also knows that vocabulary and rhetoric don't stop deluges or incompetency. Both are anathema to constituents, who demand respect and action, and remember we are coming up to another gubernatorial election. Although with our present governor not running again, it could well be that he doesn't give a flood. n
