Dream State

By David Simmons

In parts of Latin America, the vernacular verb for "sleep" is not the standard dormir but soñar, which literally means "to dream". It's easy to read too much into casual speech and slang, but it's tempting to think that among the poor (from whom I learned this usage), the most important thing about sleep is not rest but escape to a better world, a fantasy world.

Thailand likes to call itself the Land of Smiles, but it is also a land of dreams. Thais are dreamers, and foreigners come here to make their dreams come true. Sometimes they do come true, for Thais as well, but for the most part, life here is a steamy blur of illusion and fantasy that pervades all levels, including government. The solution to any problem is not to deal with it, but hope it goes away, and if it doesn't, pretend it never existed in the first place.

Ratchadaphisek Road in Bangkok is a long street full of upscale hotels and huge, neon-clad, glittering massage parlours. These aren't the "sex tourist" haunts you mostly read about in the sensationalist Western press; they cater mostly to well-off or well-positioned Thais, and to a lesser extent long-term Thai-speaking expatriates. Inside, you can get anything you want, including Alice. A number of tycoons have made their fortune off these places, and senior police have got fat safeguarding their operations.

In the most recent general election, former massage-parlour tycoon Chuvit Kamolvisit won a seat in Parliament. He has made a name for himself by denouncing the police corruption not only in the industry that made him rich, but in another big business in the same area: illegal casinos.

Thais love to gamble. In any village on any evening, you can find a card game, a source not only of good, clean, penny-ante fun, but "tea money" for the local police. The only legal gambling in the country is the state lottery, but even this spawns illicit spin-offs. In my neighbourhood in Bangkok, a numbers game based on the lotto is popular. I don't know exactly how it works, even though I'm on intimate terms with the lady who runs it. Say no more.

Everyone knows all of the above, including the politicians (some of whom are heavily invested in the legal casinos across the border in Cambodia, and therefore have no interest in seeing gambling legalized in Thailand). So it was extremely annoying to a lot of people when Chuvit started blabbing about it in Parliament. He even showed video evidence of the existence of the biggest casino in Bangkok, which reportedly hosts 1,000 high rollers every night and makes a cool US$500,000, every night.

What happened next was a great joke. Senior police lapsed into their dream state, pretending there was no illegal gambling on Ratchadaphisek, in the back yard of their Sutthisan police station.

Since then, the casino has supposedly been shut down, and a bunch of senior cops shuffled into "inactive posts". But no one believes any real difference has been made.

My wife is a great dreamer. A simple chat about my possibly semi-retiring some day and working from home immediately goes off on a tangent about how she's going to have a special office built for me with Wi-Fi Internet and satellite TV, with a side door out into the garden where she spends her time growing jasmine, and where I can take a break from work and stroll among the palm trees, yada yada yada.

Unlike most Thais, of course, she has hard evidence that dreams come true. Her dream was that a kind foreign gentleman of means would marry her and rescue her from a life of drudgery in the rural Northeast, and buy her a Honda CR-V and maybe a house. The house is now built and occupied by a couple of college girls who don't pay enough rent to make a dent in my mortgage payments; the CR-V is parked outside our rented townhouse in Bangkok. Now nine years old, it's in excellent shape, but she is eager to see the new 2012 model. "We don't need a new one," I say. "I can dream!" she replies.

I don't begrudge her that. But I grew up in a culture where practicality, not wishful thinking, was the key to progress. I believe Thailand is held back by its people's – and its leaders' – self-delusion and denial of reality.

But on the other hand, maybe existing in a dream state is what makes this a Land of Smiles.