Happy New Year. Sabai dii reu mai? New years call for new beginnings and Bangkok began the year with its landmark opening of Siam Paragon, now proudly claiming to be the biggest shopping complex in SE Asia. Apparently Hong Kong has lost that title, though they have Disneyland now, anyway. I don’t know how you compare a shopping mall, probably through square meters or the distance you can drag your shopping bags to the next Starbucks. But these days, shopping malls are not just about size and quantity. In Siam Paragon, indoor gardens and aquariums have been created for a “total shopping experience” and remind you that there is a natural world outside of Bangkok. The idea has even been proposed to establish Buddhist retreat corners for those who are overwhelmed by desire and attachment to the material world.
Not everyone has the money or time to shop, nor the desire, and that probably includes the King of Thailand. It’s pretty hard to imagine the King shopping at Siam Paragon. What would he buy? What’s on a king’s shopping list when he already reigns over a country? A new Nokia is not going to boost his status. He’s king. But the present King is perhaps unique in his philosophy of economic sufficiency, or more easily understood as, “knowing when you have enough”. It’s based on traditional rural life and Buddhist thinking and became common vocabulary when the economy of excess crashed and burned in 1997.
Ardent consumers would need a 12-step program to stop shopping and contemplate an alternative model of economics, but in Thailand, it appears that the King is not the only one who understands when enough is enough. Chatting with a car parts salesman near the Thai-Lao border, I was told that, “life can be laborious, (lambak), but you can have peace of mind (sabai). A life of convenience (saduak), on the other hand, invites danger. (antarai).” Really, he said that. I think he was referring to his own life. He didn’t appear to be terribly wealthy, but could afford to lie in his hammock and wait for customers or for the rice to grow in his field. He also had time to chat and to give me this cryptic fortune-cookie-message to chew on while I bicycled through Cambodia.
Cambodia is not convenient, not necessarily safe and certainly laborious. There are no 7-11s and it’s quicker to bicycle than to take a train. On the road, I traveled with pickups filled standing-room only, tractor carts that served as school buses, ox-carts, horse-carts, squeaky bicycles, push-carts and of course, people walking. This was all under the hot Cambodian sun and often in clouds of red dust, churned up by the rich in SUV’s or Camry’s, one foot jammed on the accelerator and one hand pressed on the horn, warning us all to scatter like chickens.
Life is definitely getting better, though slowly. The Khmer Rouge was ousted in 1979 and UNTAC monitored free elections in 1992, though in 1999 Phnom Penh still looked war-torn. It’s hard to imagine how much pain and loss Cambodians have gone through. Now in 2006, the shiny buildings, palm trees and traffic-filled streets made me think I was in southern California. The city smells of rising property values. This is the city. In the country, ox-carts are still the norm and there are still many things to fear. If you don’t scatter quickly enough when an SUV comes, don’t count on good medical care and if you criticize the government too loudly, you may end up somewhere else.
So the hardships, inconveniences and dangers are easily understood, but what about the “sabai”? It’s a hard word to translate, but it maybe describes a peace of mind and heart and a state of well-being. It is the common greeting in Thai, Lao and Khmer. “sabai dii reu mai?”, “sabai dii bo?”, “suk sabai de?” How are you? Are you well?
Riding a bicycle is not “sabai” for Khmer people, especially if it’s not a new Taiwanese TREK mountain bike. The idea of bicycling 2,000 km across the country is probably something akin to commuting to work by shopping cart. The exertions of rural life are most accurately called “labor” not “exercise”. That’s why many are so eager to get an education, wear neckties and work in an air-conditioned office. “Exercise” is what people in industrialized countries do when they wear neckties, work in air-conditioned offices, grow fat and lethargic and are turned down for magazine covers.
Industrialized people have choices when contemplating gym membership, but farmers do not when it comes to labor. That’s why the car parts salesman’s cryptic fortune cookie message became increasingly mysterious. How could people be “sabai” with a life of such heavy labor? Exercising joggers certainly don’t look “sabai”. Even with iPods and customized running shoes, they’re usually grimacing as if to advertise, “I’m exercising! No pain, no gain!”
Now try to imagine the smile of the ox-cart driver, the farmers harvesting rice, the school kids dressing in immaculate white shirts bicycling through dust and potholes to school. Say hello to them and 9.8 times out of 10, you will receive the most expansive and glorious of smiles imagined. The smile spreads from cheek to cheek. It’s the smile of Janet Jackson getting her first Grammy. It’s a smile that gave me energy to cycle the last 20 km. This must be the smile that truly expresses “sabai”.
How can people smile like this? The past can’t be denied. Many have lost their parents. Some don’t have all their limbs. Medical reports say that post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) among Cambodian refugees in the US number more than 60%. During the reign of terror from 1975 to 1979, the Khmer Rouge, with the deluded dream to create an agrarian classless society executed millions. If you were an official, an ethnic minority, a monk, a nun, a classical dancer, an artist, a teacher and anyone with education, you were tortured and killed. Buddhism was desecrated and an entire cultural heritage was destroyed.
Some survivors made their way to Thai refugee camps. By the time they reached the border, they were “walking skeletons”. Then, the tables were turned in 1979 and it was the Khmer Rouge’s turn to become refugees. It was the venerated monk, Maha Ghosananda, who visited both camps with a message of forgiveness. He told them, “Hatred is not overcome by hatred; hatred is overcome by love. This is a law eternal.” Amazingly, both sides seemed to understand, as there are stories of how thousands wept upon hearing this message.
Maha Ghosananda has been called the Ghandi of Cambodia and has made peace marches throughout the countryside in an attempt to heal the wounds. On these walks, “everyone would bless each person with water, would wish them peace in their own heart, peace in the country. And people would just weep, especially old people.”
Wishing someone well may not be so hard, but blessing anyone and everyone unequivocally from the bottom of one’s heart is something else. One has to clear their heart from attachments and resentments. Maybe it is an expression of “sabai” when one can joyfully great all others with a light and open heart. “Sabai” has nothing to do with convenience and leisure.
I remember reading in the paper about some kind of reconciliation tours in Cambodia. Both survivors and perpetrators of Khmer Rouge cruelty visited sites of tragedy, such as Tuol Sleng prison and the killing fields. The remains are graphic. Mug shots of bruised and cut faces paper the walls. Metal edges of torture devices have recorded the flesh they have cut. Human skulls, piled up like bowling balls, speak of the final results. At first separated, the two groups gradually merged after several days. Victims and perpetrators together. There are no words in the human vocabulary that can describe what happened, but it appears that through the weeping and anger, healing was possible. What is clear is that it did not happen through retribution. This is quite astounding.
In Cambodia, a whole generation of teachers, writers and monks were annihilated. Yet 25 years later, it seems that there are people who have reached a supreme level of human development where healing and peace is understood. Perhaps the common farmer in the ox-cart who expresses “sabai” with the wide smile also understands something terribly profound and precious.
As a legacy of the Khmer empire, the ruins of Angkor Wat are monumental, but the human spirit of the common people I met represent the country’s true magnificence. In comparison, the edifices of shopping malls pale in comparison. I vote Cambodia as the most astonishing place in 2006.
