Some important words on the situation in BKK
And they're not even my words, but those of my fantastic friend Tori who is living there now: amagiclantern.livejournal.com/107665.html
Because she says it all far more eloquently than I could, and because I am guilty of some of the things below. Like her I can only say - life does go on in BKK, and that any outpouring of grief is because I love my hometown more than words can say and seeing it being torn apart hurts.
"I almost posted last night, but couldn't get myself together; in the light of this morning I was glad I hadn't. Context: last night Bangkok was under curfew (and again tonight). The anti-government protest leaders turned themselves in, but the riots got worse through the night, with fighting between soldiers and protesters, buildings set on fire, and looting. The Nation newspaper now puts the number of buildings hit by arson at 36. The BBC says 'at least 15' died.
If I'd posted last night I'd probably have been guilty of all the things I keep accusing the international media of doing. I was clicking through picture after picture of my city on fire, crying.
Because on an emotional level it's like a punch in the gut. To have grown up watching Bangkok grow, and then to see those plumes of smoke rising from it (mostly on the news, though I could see one from my bedroom window), and look at images of familiar places burning evoked some sort of deep senseless grief.
That feeling's not gone. Seeing Central World, our biggest shopping mall ablaze, was shocking, but looking at pictures of burnt-out shops in Siam Square this morning really got me. Some shops are intact, some ruined. These were small businesses. Little designers. I know how callous it must seem to shed tears over a trendy fashion district. It'll bounce back. But I just can't fucking imagine what's going through the minds of those shop owners right now.
It's not my place to, though. I don't say that to be self-deprecating but because really, my gut reactions aren't what the world needs to hear from Thailand right now. I know, the world hardly reads my LJ. But it reads the international media, which continues to make Bangkok look like a warzone or a wasteland. Lives have been lost and livelihoods damaged and it's more awful than I have the words for. But maybe the English-speaking media and community are doing harm too by trying to tell it like it is. We create our own distortions, and it always looks worse from the outside. I think I've been saying this all along but it gets lost sometimes in my personal feelings. I do keep wondering whether I should leave this subject alone, stop picking at it. I don't know. I still want to say things to people outside who only see a flash of news coverage combined with oversimplified explanations.
I want anyone reading this to know that anything melodramatic I've said is the reaction of someone head-over-heels in love with a city, seeing that city hurt. Of someone whose regular nearby haunts have been on the news with soldiers or flames. It's not wrong to say I'm sad. It's just not a good reflection of how things really are as a whole.
I want to tell you that tourists are still visiting the Grand Palace. That friends in other districts report business going on as usual - despite the week-long public holiday. People going to offices and people selling grilled catfish on street-corners. My sister is crossing the city tomorrow to sit an exam. That this doesn't need to be called resilience-in-desperate-times or anything like that - just life.
That the international media will, as always, report the sensational, the exciting, the disastrously photogenic bits. That people will tweet about what's dangerous, about the big events - and that is useful information for people on the ground. That the bigger picture is not so awful. That Thailand isn't a warzone. That tourists will not be in mortal danger.
That this is an impossible city. Why build a city on marshland recently thrown up out of a river delta? Bangkok is only 300-odd years old, and it's always been sinking. And it's always going to survive. And it's not going to kill you if you come here."
Ginie
Because she says it all far more eloquently than I could, and because I am guilty of some of the things below. Like her I can only say - life does go on in BKK, and that any outpouring of grief is because I love my hometown more than words can say and seeing it being torn apart hurts.
"I almost posted last night, but couldn't get myself together; in the light of this morning I was glad I hadn't. Context: last night Bangkok was under curfew (and again tonight). The anti-government protest leaders turned themselves in, but the riots got worse through the night, with fighting between soldiers and protesters, buildings set on fire, and looting. The Nation newspaper now puts the number of buildings hit by arson at 36. The BBC says 'at least 15' died.
If I'd posted last night I'd probably have been guilty of all the things I keep accusing the international media of doing. I was clicking through picture after picture of my city on fire, crying.
Because on an emotional level it's like a punch in the gut. To have grown up watching Bangkok grow, and then to see those plumes of smoke rising from it (mostly on the news, though I could see one from my bedroom window), and look at images of familiar places burning evoked some sort of deep senseless grief.
That feeling's not gone. Seeing Central World, our biggest shopping mall ablaze, was shocking, but looking at pictures of burnt-out shops in Siam Square this morning really got me. Some shops are intact, some ruined. These were small businesses. Little designers. I know how callous it must seem to shed tears over a trendy fashion district. It'll bounce back. But I just can't fucking imagine what's going through the minds of those shop owners right now.
It's not my place to, though. I don't say that to be self-deprecating but because really, my gut reactions aren't what the world needs to hear from Thailand right now. I know, the world hardly reads my LJ. But it reads the international media, which continues to make Bangkok look like a warzone or a wasteland. Lives have been lost and livelihoods damaged and it's more awful than I have the words for. But maybe the English-speaking media and community are doing harm too by trying to tell it like it is. We create our own distortions, and it always looks worse from the outside. I think I've been saying this all along but it gets lost sometimes in my personal feelings. I do keep wondering whether I should leave this subject alone, stop picking at it. I don't know. I still want to say things to people outside who only see a flash of news coverage combined with oversimplified explanations.
I want anyone reading this to know that anything melodramatic I've said is the reaction of someone head-over-heels in love with a city, seeing that city hurt. Of someone whose regular nearby haunts have been on the news with soldiers or flames. It's not wrong to say I'm sad. It's just not a good reflection of how things really are as a whole.
I want to tell you that tourists are still visiting the Grand Palace. That friends in other districts report business going on as usual - despite the week-long public holiday. People going to offices and people selling grilled catfish on street-corners. My sister is crossing the city tomorrow to sit an exam. That this doesn't need to be called resilience-in-desperate-times or anything like that - just life.
That the international media will, as always, report the sensational, the exciting, the disastrously photogenic bits. That people will tweet about what's dangerous, about the big events - and that is useful information for people on the ground. That the bigger picture is not so awful. That Thailand isn't a warzone. That tourists will not be in mortal danger.
That this is an impossible city. Why build a city on marshland recently thrown up out of a river delta? Bangkok is only 300-odd years old, and it's always been sinking. And it's always going to survive. And it's not going to kill you if you come here."
Ginie