A zebra can change its stripes

A zebra can change its stripes

But whether it will make any difference is another question

SOCIAL & LIFESTYLE
A zebra can change its stripes

Every now and again a new campaign or crackdown hopes to right a social wrong in this country, not unlike the one I detailed in last week’s column. The latest idea is one that involves white lines — white squiggly lines.

It was announced that white squiggly lines would be drawn on roads all over Bangkok, not unlike the way a five-year-old draws white squiggly lines all over a chalkboard, and with much the same result no doubt.

According to a government spokesperson in charge of, well, Squiggly Lines, lots of really big progressive civilised cities have them already. Sydney and London, for example, are full of white squiggly lines. So too are Stockholm and Copenhagen.

Are you starting to get the picture? If our roads have white squiggly lines, then it proves we are progressive and civilised too.

Sydney. London. Stockholm. Copenhagen. Bangkok.

Can you spot the odd one out in that list? Let me give you a hint; four of them feature drivers who stop at zebra crossings. One of them features drivers who speed up at the mere sight of them. I saw a brand new set of squiggly lines this week while driving on Dinso Road not far from the Giant Swing.

They confused me at first. I wondered if they were the work of some untalented yet well-connected rookie Transport Ministry official who had been given the task of spray-painting straight white lines, but I was wrong. Those squiggly lines are intentional.

It’s a campaign to make drivers aware of impending zebra crossings as if those crossings actually have some meaning or function here. This campaign aims to get Bangkok drivers to do something outrageous — namely, stop at them.

Bangkok drivers don’t stop for anybody. Ambulances? Get outta here. Pregnant ladies … the elderly … the disabled? Don’t you get points for knocking them over, and what are they doing on roads anyway?

I once wrote a travel guide for Thailand in my first year in the country, gathering information for rookie foreign travellers.

When it came to writing about getting around Bangkok, I wrote what I thought to be a succinct yet invaluable and perhaps life-saving paragraph: “In Bangkok, zebra crossings serve no function other than to break up the blackness of the streets; they are pretty white lines on the road, but that is all. Don’t for a minute think anyone will stop if you step onto one.”

What excellent advice for tourists coming from cities such as Sydney, London, Stockholm or Copenhagen. I felt more than a little holier than thou as I sent the story off to my Thai editor, Khun Veerachai, for perusal before being laid out on the page. If I could save just one life, then my article had been well worth the precious time I took to write it. Sanctimony is not one of my recently-developed character traits.

 “Khun Veerachai would like to see you in his office kha,” his mousy yet polite secretary came over and said to me not a few hours later. “Now … kha.”

I was still feeling pious when I entered my editor’s office where I saw a print-out of my story on his desk, and a look of inclement weather on Khun Veerachai’s face.

“This paragraph about the zebra crossings. Can I delete it?” he asked.

“What on earth do you mean?” I asked dramatically.

“It doesn’t really portray Bangkok in a good light, does it?” he said, choosing his words with the same care a durian aficionado chooses his first fruit of the season.

He went on to explain that my story would portray Bangkok drivers as brazen, wide-eyed sociopaths who’d stop for nothing, let alone a pedestrian.

Piety shrivels up and dies in the face of reputation. I put up a good fight, but in the end there was no way I could win. The lives of pedestrians needed to take second place to Thailand’s image, and he announced he would delete the paragraph.

Twenty-five years have passed, and if Bangkok drivers were brazen, wide-eyed sociopaths in 1990, what are they now? Is there a word for “brazen times 10”?

And yet despite being roundly ignored, zebra crossing keep popping up on our streets — often in tourist places. Why is that? Perhaps if we didn’t paint them on our roads, we would look like some under-developed nation and that would make us look bad on the international stage.

Perhaps they will help return happiness to the Thais. Perhaps this military government is keen on making us a hub for zebra crossings or, more recently, squiggly white lines.

What is the relationship between a zebra crossing and a squiggly line anyway?

It’s a psychological ploy. Apparently when you approach squiggly lines, you are led to believe the road is narrowing and that makes you slow down. At least it works like that in Sydney, London, Stockholm and Copenhagen, so it should work here.

Never assume anything, dear reader. First of all, this trick relies on the expectation that drivers have their eyes on the road. Bangkok drivers gaze intermittently at the road ahead, but that is in between Line messaging, checking Facebook pages, watching soapies on the TV screen mounted just to the left of the driver’s seat and painting one’s fingernails.

Second, how can a squiggly line go up against a deep-seeded, ingrained desire to ignore zebra crossings for fear of having to slow down?

I know; I tried it once.

I was driving along Sukhumvit Road where there was a zebra crossing. I would normally have ignored it except that as I approached, a group of school students had already stepped off the kerb and was on the white lines.

I momentarily forgot myself; perhaps I was reminiscing about Sydney, or London, or Abba or Hans Christian Anderson.

Whatever the reason, I slowed down. And stopped.

What transpired was a tirade of intimidation as the man in the pickup truck behind me went ballistic. My actions caused him, too, to have to stop, not to mention nearly rear-ending me. He blasted his horn and when I looked into my rear-view mirror I could see his lips writhing and contorting, as is necessary when one spits vitriol at a bald-headed farang in the black Teana in front.

In summary; stopping at a Bangkok zebra crossing is as dangerous as a pedestrian thinking he or she can safely cross the road on one.

Wouldn’t it be great if squiggly white lines truly could change the bad habits of an entire city. It would be a lot cheaper than enforcing traffic rules, or mounting a serious campaign to teach Thai drivers what they must do when approaching a zebra crossing (and can we throw in an extra bit about how to properly use a roundabout?)

There are plans to extend those Dinso Road squiggles throughout the entire city. What a boon for the Somchai Squiggly Line Company Limited, owned by the relative of the department head who will contract out the work. As for the rest of us, life no doubt will go on as usual.

By the way, my travel guide story has an unexpected happy ending. Khun Veerachai was “asked to leave” not long after and in the ensuing kerfuffle the order to delete my offending paragraph never made it to the lay-out guys.

The paragraph ended up being published. Editors, like squiggly lines, are oft times ignored. n

Do you like the content of this article?
COMMENT