April 4, 2009

All in a Day’s Work


This is my typical workday, now that I’m not selling books. I’m concentrating on preparing the next set of texts so it takes some discipline. I wake up around 5:30, go for a bike ride and try to get some writing done before breakfast. Work will continue right up to lunch if there are no errands to do. An afternoon coffee will keep me going until evening and into late night with just an evening exercise and a dinner break. A good day is ten hours of writing.

OK. There’s a catch. I admit it. I’m in Bali. The 5:30 morning wakeup call is done by a rapturous chorus of excited fowl. Every morning in Bali is exciting because its creation re-created. A bicycle ride actually means riding through monkey forest where the thick canopy of Banyon trees hide the dawning of a pink/powder blue sky morning. When the sun comes up higher, bits of gold hit green.

Back to the guesthouse, I can settle down to work on a veranda chair. A simple breakfast is served and I can give my eyes a rest by filling them with the garden view, lovingly and meticulously maintained to supreme beauty. When afternoon coffee calls, there are endless choices in Ubud and now that it’s slow season, it feels like I have the whole town to myself. The final luxury among luxuries is the silky quiet nights giving me time to get down another few pages. I know, pitiable me.

Aid for Laos, buy a doorknob


Wattay International Airport in Vientiane. It’s small, but nice, but a little eerie. It doesn’t feel like Laos, it’s Japan recreated down to the last detail. That’s not a wonder since it’s been funded and built by the Japanese along with bridges, schools, roads and just about anything else in Laos. This airport feels like Japan because everything apparently is from Japan.

I know because I’ve seen these exit signs, the particle boards, the duty free shop shutters, the plastic chairs, the floor tiles, the Seiko wall clocks, the air vents, the blue vinyl benches, the switches, the lighting fixtures, the window knobs, the blinds…. No, the newspaper rack looks local, though all the newspapers on them are Japanese. The toilet sign has Lao script, but only that makes it Lao. I recognize these things because I spent so many years in Japan. Japan has been recreated here in excruciating detail and it’s not even supposed to be a theme park.

It’s a pretty nice gift, an entire airport basically exported from Japan. Isn’t it amazing that airports can be exported? That means all the concessions are contracted in Japan servicing all the people who make shutters and doorknobs and particle boards. There are formalities for bidding for these contracts, but I’m sure a good amount of money is exchanged for these sweet deals. It kind of captures the whole essence of the development industry, “We’ll do something nice for you, but we’ll certainly make sure we profit in the process”.

Speaking of airports, this was written in the Thai newspaper The Nation (March 30,2009 9A). It’s about the Suvarnabhumi International Airport in Bangkok. “…Bt 1 billion contract for ground services awarded to a Singapore-registered company whose owner was traced to a derelict house in the Bangkok suburbs; Bt 4 billion for wiring and ducting to a company with no track record; half a billion for luggage trolleys of unbelievably chunky quality; Bt 5 billion for operating security guards; Bt 3 billion for limousine services; an allegation that Thaksin’s sister demanded a bribe of Bt 300 million for the car park concession; and advertising concession to Thaksin’s son; and a Bt 8 billion contract for building drains allocated to the family of another minister. (Exchange rate 36 baht / dollar – you get the point).

So the next time you donate tax-exempt money to a charity that claims to build schools for illiterate minority children who are vulnerable to malnutrition and human trafficking, consider that your money might go to retirement benefits for staff who’s full-time job is to canvass for donations, or maybe it goes to the government official consultant who needs not a jeep, but a mini-hummer to do surveys upcountry because everyone else has the same kind of vehicle parked in the ministry lots. In other words, you might be buying a very nice doorknob.