Many friends and ex-journalist colleagues of mine have been complaining about Thai mainstream and Western media coverage of the ongoing political conflict. Indeed it is frustrating to see the protests often portrayed exclusively as unelected forces attempting to undermine an elected government trying to hold an election, and that election symbolise the universal expression of formal democracy.
With the said template dominating, media coverage, a prescribed storyline is thus provided, and factoids and soundbites are thereafter picked to fit the narrative.
Space restrictions, tight deadlines and the expectations of editors who are often far removed from the pulse on the ground further restrict the journalists' scope.
Along the course of the editorial assembly line and away from the location where the conflict is unfolding, many elements have been ditched, including what characterises the struggle towards substantive democratisation and inclusive development that is taking place in Thailand - a process that involves a range of structural issues more complex than the single-lens focus on balloting.
But the media prescription is for election, election and election, with a focus on elitism as source of the conflicts. An even more outdated argument is that this is about Bangkokians versus rural folk.
If one only bothers to venture away from the instant soundbites of English-speaking subjects, to explore Thai-language materials and alternative Thai media outlets (something other than Facebook posts), or to mingle with folks at the tail ends of the People's Democratic Reform Committee (PDRC) flash mob caravans, one would find a picture that differs greatly from the prescribed editorial formula.
One would get glimpses of citizen empowerment by people's own volition. One would meet people whose voices rarely get media space. One would get to hear grievances over messy land ownership disputes, chronic cycles of indebtedness - the harder they farm, the poorer they get - and a catalogue of festering wounds for which both the Democrats and Thaksinomics are equally accountable by leaving them unattended to when they were governments of the day.
These people are not coached in public speaking, nor can they afford pricey public relations machinery to enable them to spill soundbites or nuggets of context and analysis for journalists rushing to deadline.
Often it takes patience and time (as I find out from my current job as a translator) to actively listen for the essence of why these people are unhappy. In addition, it will be hard to pick their nondescript faces out of the noisy protesting crowd, so cameras naturally turn to pretty urbanite faces at the forefront of the march.
If you have no deadline or fresh lead paragraph to agonise over, you can venture past headlines to examine non-headline stuff. It is encouraging to see civil society groups so visible this time. Many of them have faltered and matured over the years to strategise and advocate their causes. Many of them are piggy-backing the PDRC, as they see its call for reform as an opportunity to carry their causes further.
Their concern is about how the rules of the land, as well as the electoral process, make it possible for people's real needs to emerge in policy platforms, or how small people can get organised and make a difference. This, for me, needs as much attention as the election itself.
Reading Thai also allows me to scour obscure corners of provincial news, education sections and environment sections of the Thai-language press. As a Thai, I have access to voices of some very sharp Thai analysts and investigative journalists who don't operate well in English and whose names and inputs are therefore not known to the English-speaking world.
But then again, as the media continues to use its usual templates, the tracking of appointments of cronies to powerful positions in state enterprises, following the money trails and dodgy procurements, and unpacking issues at the structural level is too time-consuming, tedious, and not sexy enough for media space.
Unfortunately, access to Thai-language materials has its dark side. It sickens me to encounter hate speech materials that contain fanatic nationalist remarks, genitals, homophobia and sexist parlance, dehumanising others by calling them monitor lizards or buffalos.
This tactic has been employed by actors from all rival parties to varying degrees, and often by elitist Bangkokians. Such hate speech has proliferated with the advent of partisan satellite TV channels and community radio stations. This is not what freedom of expression/information is about.
The reality is that foreign media coverage influences perception and decision-making. So my friends will continue to complain and mutter. I am thankful for my former editors' firm encouragement when I served as this paper's correspondent in Vietnam (1992-1995) that I must learn Vietnamese. It is just as important to learn the national language when covering the Thai conflict now as it was for me in Vietnam.
Accessing native-language materials and voices and non-elitist points of view does open up a different perspective than if you rely on formulaic mainstream sources of information.
Supapohn Kanwerayotin is an independent translator. She worked at the Bangkok Post from 1986-1996, and the BBC World Service radio from 1996-2000.