Last Tuesday evening, after being rejected by the shaking head and waving hands of one cabbie, a second took me in and I was ever appreciative. From Wat Phra Si Maha That temple in Bang Khen to my home in Lumpini, it was to be a long ride, but an educational one. There was silence at first, but after a few minutes the cabbie, an elderly yet robust man, turned on the radio. We caught the last few minutes of a talk show; the topic of discussion was the Bangkok governor race.
One caller lambasted the Democrat candidate as a corrupt member of the elite who knows nothing and does nothing. Another caller lamented on how her son, and others like him who live and work in Bangkok but are not residents of the capital could not vote - otherwise the Pheu Thai candidate would win for sure.
There were a couple livelier and more passionate callers invoking the need to vote Pheu Thai and win Bangkok for the sake of the people and true democracy. The host, also passionate and lively, wrapped up the show by saying Bangkok needs a good man as governor, a true man of democracy, and that man is the Pheu Thai candidate.
Another period of silence ensued, the cabbie shifted back and forth in his seat, and kept looking at the rearview mirror, as if he were measuring my political allegiance, determining whether he should engage me in a political discussion. Finally he did.
Friendly and paternally, throughout the conversation he referred to me as por-nhoom, or young man.
The cabbie waxed poetic about how this once great nation, which our ancestors sacrificed their blood and lives to forge, is being raped and pillaged by "them".
It's interesting to note that those on the other side of the political divide also wax poetic on the very same thing, except that in their context, "them" refers to a different set of people.
I asked who "they" were and his laughing reply was "por-nhoom, you know, them".
This exchange is telling of the atmosphere of fear that still prevails in Thailand - that which we do not name or speak of, even in the confines of a taxi. But fair enough, I was a stranger and mistrust is only a by-product of a culture of fear.
The cabbie went on to elaborate on how Thailand has more oil than even Saudi Arabia and that we are so fortunate to be rich in natural resources because our ancestors chose the right place to settle.
Unfortunately, however, according to the cabbie, we end up having to pay high prices for foreign oil because "they" have conspired to funnel our own oil through secret refineries and sell it in on the world market, keeping the profits for themselves alone.
Turning into Lumpini, coming up to the railway track, the cabbie said that the black trains are the ones that transport the oil. Sure enough, a train came trudging through. The cabbie pointed and said,"that's one of them, por-nhoom, a black train".
I looked out the side window but couldn't make out the colour because there were so many tents and vendors in front of me, plus it was already dark.
"Believe me, por-nhoom, I'm not making this stuff up," said the cabbie. "I learn it all from red radio."
I don't know if we actually have more oil than Saudi Arabia, but I do know that his conviction truly reflects the power of the media.
I then asked the cabbie why the government isn't doing anything about it. He sighed and replied that they can't - that nothing can be done.
"Why not?" I asked. "You have sacrificed blood and lives to put them into office in order to make sweeping reforms in the people's interests, which includes giving the people 'justice' for the lives lost. You should expect them to do it, all of it."
This, you see, is the fine art of instigation by por-nhoom.
The cabbie laughed and replied that everything is very difficult because this is Thailand. There are things that can't be done, simply because this is Thailand.
This echoes what I mentioned earlier - the other side of the political divide says the same thing. The proverbial "this is Thailand" with a sigh and the shake of the head. No one expects much of this country, let alone the Thai people ourselves. Such is a defeatist attitude.
I said that the government has four years and it has now been in power less than two. Make demands and apply pressure, things might start rolling. Power to the people and all that: You voted them in, you can take them out, if they don't fulfil their promises. But if they do, then you can vote for them again.
But por-nhoom has a feeling they will cast the same vote no matter what, as the hatred for the other side is too ingrained.
What I find most interesting here, however, is not the politics, but the sentiments of the people.
Average citizens on both sides of the political divide lament over the same thing - that this wonderful nation our ancestors fought and died for, this jewel of natural resources with fish in the sea and rice in the paddies, is being raped and pillaged selfishly to profit "them". The two sides only differ on who "they" are.
As well, in the end, regardless of the passion, commitment and belief, push the conversation far enough, and both sides will sigh, shake their heads and say, "This is Thailand."
This leads to the conclusion that while we are so very proud of our perceived glorious past, we hold so little hope for our future.
The Pheu Thai government can prove that wrong. Don't laugh, but when the Education Ministry announced more than a week ago that close-cropped hair is no longer compulsory, ending more than 30 years of control by humiliation, it was perhaps one the most progressive things any Thai government has ever done. But then again, por-nhoom rather believes that hope lies more with the character of individual citizens than with the policy of any one government.
Contact Voranai Vanijaka via email at voranaiv@bangkokpost.co.th.