Fabric of Society

Carleton Cole
July 7, 2008
The Nation


Guru Nanak (1469 to 1539), who founded the Sikh faith, picking up karma from Hinduism and monotheism from Islam, said that "The highest religion is to rise to universal brotherhood.

"In his book "Sikhs in Thailand", Manjit S Sidhu says that the vast majority of Sikhs who in the mid-1900s immigrated to Thailand from what is now Punjab state in Pakistan, in part to escape from the chaos that ensued from the partition of the formerly British ruled subcontinent in 1947, indeed arrived in Bangkok to find a very brotherly reception - most of them spent there first nights at the Sikh gurdwara (temple; literally "the guru's home or portal") in Pahurat, Bangkok.


But no slackers, it didn't take long for the men ("there was a great dearth of single Sikh girls in Thailand" at that time, writes Sidhu) arriving from the subcontinent to acquire mostly locally made fabrics on commission, and spend their days walking around and selling their cloth.

"He who earns his livelihood by the sweat of his brow and shares it with others … knows the way," says Guru Nanak. More than half a century after the mass migration of Sikhs to Bangkok, shrines dedicated to Guru Nanak are a main fixture in the dozens of Sikh-owned shops of jostling Talad Pahurat, vying for attention with the Thai-language signs shouting "Lot raka!" ("Sale!") in this retail market for cotton, polyester, rayon and other fabrics.

As with the vast majority of Sikhs, the Sachadev family belongs to the Arora sect, which is known for its business background, as opposed to the minority Jat Sikh people, who have traditionally been farmers and labourers.


The owner of the AR Shop here, Gurmeet Singh Sachadev, says that his business may eventually close, as he has no sons, and his two twenty-something daughters, after having worked here from time to time in their younger years, aren't interested in staying here for a lifetime.

Gurmeet runs the shop with his wife Rupinder, and a couple of assistants. "Even with shop-owning families with sons, the future of the area may change, with families moving out," he says. "It's competitive here. How to survive in this business is to offer something different. Business is very quiet." To prepare himself for the stresses to come, each day he starts each day with 15 to 30 minutes of meditation. "I forget about business and just leave myself open." Besides the day-to-day job, though, what concerns him is the long-term stability of Pahurat not to mention Sikh culture in Thailand.

"Slowly, slowly, Sikhs in Thailand are becoming assimilated. Slowly, slowly the Thai culture is coming into the Sikh culture," says Gurmeet, who observes two of Sikhism's "5 Ks'"- wearing a steel bracelet, and, for men, keeping long hair wound upward in a turban. For three decades he has worked in the family-run shop, which was established by his father, who had fled India after its partition.

Learning by his father's side, Gurmeet has worked in the shop since 1976.Still, he says that for the for the spiritual nourishment that they didn't get while growing up, men in his 30 to 60 year age group are slowly turning to the six-storey golden gurdwara, which is topped with gilded onion domes and sprouts above the Pahurat shops.Gurmeet's cellphone goes off, jolting us back to the present. "Don yen prung-ne okay mai?" ("Is tomorrow evening okay?") he asks before sealing a deal and an agreed time for a delivery to be made.



Gurmeet says he would like if his children would visit the gurdwara more often and appreciate their Sikh heritage, but "I tell them 'Do what you want to do'."Indeed, he says that many children of Pahurat shop-owners want to strike out on their own, both in not becoming devout Sikhs, and for finding a livelihood apart from selling fabrics, or turning them into the suits, as seen in Sikh-run tailor shops ion Bangkok, everywhere from here in Little India, to lower Sukhumvit and Khao San roads. While young Sikhs are going to the temple less often than their parents, and their usage of the Punjabi language is slipping, they tend to marry within the local Sikh community.

In what was once a narrow lane selling religious statutes, icons and trinkets, only one side of the alley survives today, as one side gave way to make a wider lane going along the new India Emporium mall."I think that these shops in Pahurat will not continue into the next generation," says Gurmeet, before grabbing a well-worn metre-stick and going the front of the store to help a customer who is fingering a piece of cloth, who the shop-owner describes "Na tee-soot!" ("The thickest!")

After making the sale, he returns, saying "Thai people are very happy to see us since we are from the land of Buddhism. I feel that Sikhs on Sampaeng Lane have more religion. They are wholesalers of fabrics, so they have more time for going to functions.""The vast majority of Sikh migrants have done well since coming to Thailand," writes Sidhu. But time will just how traditionally Sikh their descendants will be.





A feast fit for a sultan

Carleton Cole
June 8,2008
The Nation


With its red-and-white awning and signage at Bangkok’s chichi new European-style boutique mall Sun Square, the six-month-old Ibo Turkish restaurant just off Silom Road resembles Istiklal Caddesi, Istanbul’s upscale shopping and dining district. But there’s an Islamic prayer room above the restaurant, which, unlike many places in Turkey, doesn’t serve the fiery aniseed liquor arak.

Of course, the main attraction in this small eatery is the delectable food of Turkey, the culinary culture of which became influenced by cuisines from the Middle East and southeastern Europe, when the Ottoman Empire, centred in Istanbul, was at its prime a few centuries ago.


“We offer something different then the Arabic food on Sukhumvit Soi 3/1,” says Mustafa Senoz, co-owner of Ibo, referring to Bangkok’s mecca for Arabic food. But he adds that while much of the mezze appetisers and grilling of meats is similar, the spices used are different.
“All our spices are imported from Turkey. The lamb is from New Zealand,” he says, adding that there are also chicken and fish dishes and a range of veggie mezze on the menu.
A mix of Thais, Westerners and Arabs come here for the chow. “Business has been going up and up,” says Senoz, whose restaurant was named after the one-year-old son of his partner, a co-owner of the eatery.

The home-style hummus here is thicker than the hummus in the Arab restaurants on Sukhumvit near Nana. It is taken, along other mezze like babaganush and yoghurt, with pita bread, as well as the uniquely Turkish lavas bread which is shaped like a pillow, and deflates like the Hindenburg when touched.


Bread is also used to scoop up soslu patlican, a super-smooth garlic-flavoured tomato and eggplant dish, which is similar to Iranian dishes. The restaurant has plenty kebab dishes. Strong shots of tea come in dainty glasses; stiffer still Turkish coffee comes in thimble-like cups.

“We make our mezze items fresh each morning. We make yogurt every day from fresh milk,” says Senoz, who hails from Istanbul and has a Thai wife. “I started cooking when I was 11 years old in my family’s restaurant.
“I have been living in Thailand for three years. I cooked in Japan, Malaysia, and Singapore as a chef in Turkish restaurants.”

A brief tour of the kitchen affords a view of how Turkish pizza is made. The first stage is similar to the Italian style, in which mounds of dough are shaped into circles. Then various combinations of meat and vegetables are imbedded into the soft dough which then slid with a long paddle into the oven, where they are baked by charcoal. Turkish pizzas are smaller than their Italian counterparts, and in many cases don’t have cheese.

For desert there are several tasty options in which light honey plays a starring role, such as sekerpare.

Stunning in its Calm Beauty

The world’s first major exhibit of Bhutanese art is shedding light on the reclusive kingdom’s unique Vajrayana Buddhist masterpieces

Carleton Cole
May 20, 2008
The Nation

Despite its conservative religious nature, the predominantly Buddhist art of Bhutan, is far from staid.

The statue of Drukpa Kunley (1455 to 1529, gilt bronze, 18th-century), features what the curators for the "The Dragon’s Gift: The Sacred Arts of Bhutan" exhibit organisers called a "divine madman", named as such for his exotic means of imparting Buddhism wisdom. The show’s Assistant Curator John Johnston says he and his colleagues had considered using a less provocative description, such as "‘eccentric genius’ in their exhibition guidebook, but that "we kept coming back to ‘divine madman’ as his bibliography is scandalous. "When he came to a town, he’d be looking for beautiful women and a scandalous bar," the says art historian.


"He left behind a number of important descendants," says Johnston, who spent the last three years visiting some 200 of the 2,000 monasteries in Bhutan, ferreting out the best examples of the small nation’s rich artistic heritage, for an exhibition that was organised by the Honolulu Academy of Arts. After its Hawaii leg is over on May 23, the show will move on to San Francisco and New York.

Johnston gave the "Experiencing the Sacred: Buddhist Art in Bhutan" talk last Sunday to about 45 attendees at the Thousand Stars Tibetan and Spiritual Centre of Asia, off Lat Phrao Road.

He concentrated his travels in the northern regions of Bhutan, repository to the country’s classical, Tibetan-inspired culture – the hotter, flatter, drier South is home to many ethnic-Nepalese.

"What we were looking for in terms of criteria was, most importantly, the aesthetic quality," says Johnston. "But these are very sacred pieces of art, so a counterbalance was to reflect that these works represented Buddhism in Bhutan. I’m showing some pieces that have never been seen outside of experts in the field."

"There were times when we had only a few hours to view hundreds of paintings, and only chose a few. My goal was to see as many artworks as possible. The Bhutanese really excel at textile paintings."
The show’s 100 pieces are from the eighth to the 20th centuries.


As is the case with other Himalayan lands, such as Sikkim and Ladakh, Vajrayana Buddhist monasteries crown many mountaintops in Bhutan. "Bhutan is a place of natural beauty. For me, spending a few hours in the woods is a great place to prepare for ensuring sacred places. In most towns in the main temple was a high hike away into the mountains.

"I spent my time searching for the best arts to be put on display. We worked out a system so that the monks were prepared for my visit, so that a guy looking like me didn’t just pop up and ask to see their most valued treasures," says Johnston, a native of the US state of Georgia.

Bhutanese thangka (paintings) typically depict an important spiritual leader, such as Guru Padmasamhava, who introduced Buddhism to Bhutan in the 700s, or the unifier of Bhutan, the great monk and political leader Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal (1594 to 1651).

The most important Buddhist schools in Bhutan are Drukpa Kagyu and Nyingma, which is known for images of Padmasambhava. Bhutanese arts are known for their liberal use of pink and green.

"Most of these items have not even seem by the Bhutanese so we are very grateful to display these images. It can be very difficult to differentiate the different kinds of art from Bhutan Tibet Nepal and Ladakh," although to the trained eye, they begin to seem more apparent.

Statues – ku – are made more holy for the objects inserted into the back of them. These can be sacred objects such as rolled up prayers on paper, or reliquaries such as hair or fingernail clippings from an important teacher, or dirt from a holy site.

Besides the beauties enshrined within them, the whitewashed classical block-shaped monasteries are gorgeous as well. Says Johnston: "The dzong (great fortresses) are great examples of sacred architecture. They can be really meandering."

He calls Zimkhang Chapel at Tango Monastery "the Sistine Chapel" of Bhutanese art. It’s "a tour de force".

Grateful for being loaned the sacred works, Johnston’s team in return showed monks how to gently handle their old masterpieces. "We trained monks in workshops on how to clean and protect their paintings, which are often covered with the soot from butter lamps, and are handled roughly," says Johnston. "We showed them PhotoShop, and they were amazed that you could zoom in on the details far more so than with the naked eye."

"Bhutan is a country filled – brimming – with sacred arts, and we’ve only scratched the surface."

Photo:
John Johnston

Understanding the Palestinian angst

A local Palestinian rights advocacy group wants to inform Thais on the region from their perspective

Carleton Cole
May 15, 2008

While Israel celebrated its 60th anniversary last week, Palestinians marked 60 painful years in the statelessness of al Nakba (The Catastrophe). And while, in recent years, a massive series of walls have kept Israelis safe from Palestine suicide bombers, the Apartheid Wall, as Palestinian groups call it, isolates Palestinian communities in the West Bank from each other.


"Nowhere in the world over the last 60 years has there been so much continual suffering," Sule Larsson said. Larsson is a former member of the Green Party in Sweden and has lived in Bangkok for 15 years. "We want to bring about awareness of this in Thailand."

Larsson is the secretary of the five-month-old Palestinian Solidarity Campaign (PSC Thailand), a local organisation of expatriates and Thais, which is affiliated to the UK-based group of the same name. The group supports "self determination of Palestinians, the right of return of Palestinian refugees and an end of Israeli occupation".

"Why start a group? Because there wasn't one here. I want to help Palestine," PSC Thailand chairman Stuart Ward said. Ward, like Larsson, works for the Swedish Embassy in Bangkok.

This story will be continued in a future book.......................

A white harvest turns into gold

While poor people around the world protest higher food costs, rice farmers in Nakhon Pathom are pocketing more money than ever before

Carleton Cole, Sutamon Lertmanorat
The Nation
May 3, 2008


Five months ago, when Ai Ruengchuamuan sold the rice from her land in rural Nakhon Pathom to a local rice mill, she got Bt6,000 a tonne.

Last week, another harvest from the same 16 rai brought her a windfall - Bt13,000 per tonne.

"I am very excited about it!" beams Ai, one of the nation's 15 million farmers, to whom even small increases in profits can make a big difference.

"I have farmed this land for as long as I can remember and I have never witnessed such a phenomenon," says Iam Ruengchuamuan, Ai's 76-year-old uncle.

Three weeks ago Iam sold 12 rai of rice for Bt140,000, or 12,000 per tonne - one rai produces about one tonne of rice. His field yields two crops every year. The price of the fertiliser and oil he needs have risen, but that's more than offset by the even higher cost of rice.

One way he's reduced costs is by gradually turning to organic fertiliser, which costs Bt10,000 per tonne and produces similar yields to chemical fertiliser, which costs Bt20,000.

For the last three decades or so, like many other Thai farmers, Iam has been in debt.

"We owe about Bt300,000 to a government agricultural bank and the black market," he says, but with rice prices skyrocketing, he's happier than he's been in a long time.

"If the price of rice is steady like this, I should be able to pay off my debt in a few years."

Most of their five kids only completed primary school. "I know a farmer is always poor," Iam says, "but this is what my ancestors have done and I don't know what else I can do."

Last year, he underwent bypass surgery under the Bt30 scheme. "My wife Somjit is worried about me when I'm working in the fields. With extra money I can hire someone to help take care of the rice," he smiles.

Two weeks ago, the couple planted fresh shoots and they'll harvest the crop in August, though Iam is hoping it comes sooner while the price is still high.



One money-lender in the province says several of her customers have repaid their loans over the last month, while other clients have converted their shrimp farms into rice fields, clamouring to take advantage of the price increase.

"Two weeks ago, I converted my potato field into a rice paddy," says Udom Intaramany, 41, who doesn't have any land of her own, and rents it for Bt500 per rai per year. That may rise in the near future, though.

The increase in the cost of rice and other grains has been blamed on everything from higher oil prices to the demand for biofuels to climate change. Prices for rice and other basic foodstuffs are expected to remain high in the foreseeable future.

But even though the rice price has jumped more than 100 per cent this year, few farmers will get rich as most own little land.

"I believe that this is a permanent change and that prices won’t come down. Their profit margin is small and they have limited income," says Vichai Sriprasert, the president of Riceland Pacific International, one of Thailand’s top rice-exporting companies, was speaking at a recent panel discussion at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Bangkok.


News reports say that the price may fluctuate or fall to old levels. Regardless, there will be winners and losers. So far the headlines have been dominated by the global protest over higher food costs.

But for now, poor Thai rice-farming families are happy with their golden harvest.

In the forever Prague spring

For all that it's seen and been, the Czech capital remains one of the most enchanting cities in Europe.

Carleton Cole
THE NATION
April 26, 2008

As the tram manoeuvres through Prague's Stare Mesto - the Old Town - my attention is drawn to advertisements for consumer products lining the interior. Though small and discreet, they still say something about the 1989 Velvet Revolution.

So far the Czechs have pretty much avoided the excesses of capitalism, and the "City of 100 Spires" has not become a city of 100 billboards. It is still largely the Prague of Kafka, complete with a lingering aura of mystery.

Governments further west were never quite sure what to do with this ethnic enclave in the heart of Europe. Czechoslovakia - the Allies' concoction created out of the remnants of the Austro-Hungarian Empire following World War I - stood for modest political and economic prosperity, proving well how the Czechs can perform when freed from the German or Russian yolk.

The Vltava River's dark waters carry no reflection and I feel myself being drawn into its grey depths. On the far bank, the towers and church spires pierce the cloudy sky and the green copper patina on St Nicholas Church glistens in the spring rain.

Down the river, small crowds gather atop the centuries-old stone arches of the Charles Bridge, an epitome of Bohemian style.

Prague's coffeehouse tradition of progressive debate may be but a memory now, but its essence survives on the bridge. Walking across the short span can take hours - there is so much to see. Eclecticism thrives under the watchful eyes of the stone saints lining both sides, who seem to approve as the assembled hawkers sell communist-era paraphernalia and handcrafted jewellery to the tourists.

It was under the enlightened rule of Charles IV, for whom the bridge is named, that Prague became a leading cultural centre. Through Austro-Hungarian occupation, an arranged marriage with Slovakia, Nazi invasion and Soviet domination, the country has remained unique.
Every major European language can be heard while crossing the bridge. A local man switches from Czech to English to German as he educates passers-by on the abysmal environmental legacy left by communism.
His devotion to the subject is evident in his lively, often comical approach.
At the end of the bridge are the Mala Strana - the Lesser Town - and eventually Hradcany Castle, to which early Czech monarchs made their way along this route following their coronation.

The drizzling rain doesn't deter the street artists, who make clever use of plastic sheets. Their sketches and watercolours of city scenes tend to omit colourful store signs - that would give too much credence to the modern economy. Thankfully, the Mala Strana Bridge towers are big enough to hide most of it.

Passing between the towers, I make my way up into the higher altitudes of the Lesser Town. Its maze of twisting, narrow lanes is dotted with small cafes with wrought-iron chairs and tables. The atmosphere is more like that of a mediaeval provincial town than a national capital.

At the top of an alley of terraced houses in different pastel hues, St Nicholas Church has an interior so beautiful that non-Catholics will consider converting - indeed, that was the point of the design.
In testimony to Prague's baroque grace, the church's statues and colourful frescoes glimmer in the kaleidoscopic sunlight shining through the elongated stained-glass windows. Further up the hillside is Hradcany Castle, epicentre of Czech political power through the centuries. Here in 1968, Soviet tanks abruptly ended five years of enlightened socialism during the infamous Prague Spring.

It was also here, during the Velvet Revolution of '89, that Czechs resumed the fight once lost - and this time emerged victorious.

The sun breaks through the clouds as if in veneration to a gothic certainty. This time, the Prague spring has reached full bloom.

One world, two dreams

Unlike the chaotic scenes that greeted the Olympic torch elsewhere, its arrival in Bangkok was a jubilant event for the local Chinese who vastly outnumbered protesters

Carleton Cole, Sutamon Lertmanorat
The Nation
April 24, 2008

In what looked like a scene out of the Cultural Revolution, Chinese-Thai of all ages and mainland Chinese students marched with flags held high and loudly sang nationalist songs on Saturday near Sanam Luang.

Wearing large Chinese flags like capes, waving smaller ones, and sporting painted versions on their cheeks, the young Chinese were out in force to proudly celebrate the Olympic torch coming to Bangkok.

"There are almost 1,000 Chinese students from many Thai universities here today," said Yan Pan, 19, from Dalian in northeastern China, a business student at Bangkok's Assumption University.

"We are proud that China is hosting the Olympic Games and we are here to protect our torch - because some people want to snuff it out."

After passing through New Delhi under tight security due to the high number of exiled Tibetans in India, the flame was warmly welcomed on Friday night in Thailand, a country with seven million Chinese - the second-largest Chinese population outside the homeland.

Shinawat Tarapan, chairman of the Chinese Foundation in Phetchaburi, said he was happy to make the trip.

"The Olympics promote sport in a harmonious way. It is a sacred ceremony which should not involve politics."

Lin Chao Bu, a former Chinese-language teacher at the Jianhua Chinese School in Nakhon Pathom, was holding a poster that read "One world, one dream".
"People around the world," he said, "are joyful about China fulfilling its dream of hosting the Olympic Games."

In explainig the concept "One world, one dream", the official slogan of Olympic 2008, the Games' website says, "It expresses the common wishes of people all over the world, inspired by the Olympic ideals, to strive for a bright future of Mankind."

Waiting provocatively behind barricades on Rajdamnoen Avenue near the United Nations building were some 150 pro-Tibetan protesters on one side of the road and 300 pro-Chinese on the other.

The groups exchanged verbal assaults, with the pro-Tibetan camp yelling, "Hu Jintao, free Tibet!" To this the Chinese retorted, "One world, one dream, one China!"
"It's impossible to separate politics from the Olympics," said one pro-Tibetan protester - a man from Chicago who is working in Thailand and spoke on condition of anonymity.

"It's like 1936, when Europe turned a blind eye to the true nature of Hitler and still let the Olympics go on in Berlin.
"Some people say the protests will make China even angrier, but somebody has to say something - if not, it will be only the people across the street who say something.

"If you look at the opposite side of the street," he said, "you see a homogenous group of Chinese students. On this side is the rest of the world, where there are Thais, Westerners and Tibetans."

"I am here to tell the Chinese to support human rights," said Angkana, a Thai woman wearing one of the common protest signs at the gathering, each bearing the name of a person arrested in China for their political views. Her sign read "Lobsang" and the date March 18,2008.

Also on view was a poster proclaiming "The evil empire strikes back" with an image of Darth Vader wielding a red Olympic torch rather than a light sabre, and simple handwritten ones saying “Free Tibet” and “Play Fair”.

While the protesters' mottoes and signs were blatant and to the point, the Chinese signs were more poetic and akin to a fortune-cookie message, like "Light the passion, share the dream" and "Lasting forever: Thai-Chinese friendship".

"Protesting the Olympic torch is not good for anybody, not for Tibetan, not for Chinese," says Tenzin Josh. The Englishman and former monk in the Tibetan tradition, who was ordained by the Dalai Lama, was one of the speakers at the Foreign Correspondents' Club of Thailand on Tuesday.

"Instead of seeing peace and harmony, we see problems and protests. It could have been a wonderful thing for China to bring the Olympic torch to the whole world. For the first time in history people around the world can see China and relate to China.

"Protests in London, Paris or in Bangkok are not going to help. It has to come through meaningful dialogue, trust and understaning between China and Tibet."

Passing the flame for Tibet‏

April 7, 2007

Carleton Cole

At a subdued candlelit gathering in front of the Chinese embassy, protesters called on China to end repression of the not-exactly-autonomous territory.




As the flame for the Beijing Olympics arrived in China a week ago today, ready for its global odyssey, eight pro-Tibetan protesters sat on the ground in front of the Chinese Embassy in Bangkok and passed a light of their own from candle to candle.

In Thai and English, the small group on Ratchadaphisek Road - outnumbered by watchful police - stated their demand for peace in Tibet for a dozen or so journalists taking notes and tussling for the best photo angles. "This is the second demonstration we've held in front of the Chinese Embassy - the first was on March 19," Free Tibet Network (FTN) coordinator Pokpong Lawansiri told The Nation.




"The purpose of the FTN is to make Thais and expatriates more aware of the crackdown in Tibet."We are reiterating our demand for the Chinese government to end the crackdown and allow freedom of expression and assembly," he said. "We also call on the Thai government and the Thai Olympic Committee to make it clear that they do not agree with the Chinese government's violation of human rights."

During the demonstration the protesters stepped aside to allow a stately black sedan to pass through the embassy gate. A young woman, who asked to be identified only as Ploy, shouted at the car, "Tibet is not part of China!"She held a section of a large Tibetan flag, a sign reading, "China we are watching you!" and a photo of Tibet's spiritual leader with the caption "Long Live His Holiness the Dalai Lama".

The protesters also held posters denouncing Chinese rule in Tibet, some wearing T-shirts bearing the Tibetan flag, with its snow lion symbol.




The subdued rally lasted just over an hour. In contrast to the recent bloody pro-Tibetan street clashes and arrests in Lhasa and Kathmandu, there was no threat of violence. The police assigned to the event, with little to do but keep watch, took photos of the small assembly.


"I've come here tonight because I have known Tibetans," Ploy said. "I've visited them in southern India. I lived with them for a month."People say Thailand is the Land of Smiles, but when I met the Tibetans I knew that they were from the real Land of Smiles, more than us. We have the same Lord Buddha."




A pamphlet was distributed promoting an upcoming seminar on Tibet at Thammasat University, espousing "the peaceful middle path of the Dalai Lama". Pushing for autonomy for Tibet, it said, echoing his stand, is more logical than holding out for independence. Yet among the monks in Tibet and young Tibetan exiles in India who have never seen their homeland, demands for independence are growing louder.

"I'm just an ordinary guy from London," said Ron Aslan, one of the two Westerners participating in the demonstration. He was promoting the website http://www.avaaz.org/, which is hosting an online petition abhorring the violence in Tibet, and held a sign saying, "1.5 million say it's time for dialogue with the Dalai Lama".

"We will continue to hold protests," said Pokpong. "I believe in the rights of all people, whether they're Thai, Burmese, Cambodian, Chinese or Tibetan. "I believe in universal human rights, beyond borders. Tibetans and Thais are the same. When Thais see Tibetans being discriminated against, we should rise up and condemn it."

Toward Peace in Troubled Tibet

Carleton Cole
The Nation
March 20, 2008

Against the stark background of protests against Chinese rule this month, Thai Buddhists offer metaphysical support


In the cosy prayer room at the Thousand Stars Foundation on Bangkok’s Lat Phrao Soi 11 – Thailand’s only major repository of Tibetan culture – about a dozen attendees, mostly Thai Buddhists, have come in search of spirituality beyond what is taught in their Theravada tradition.

They chant in Tibetan and English and make offerings of food before reciting prayers in front of images of the Buddha and Guru Padmasambhava. He was the eighth-century spiritual leader who is said to return to the earthly realm to do good for others on the 10th day of every Tibetan month, which most recently was March 16.


One of the chants was: "May all beings ... always have happiness [and be] free from illness. May all beings be in harmony with the aims of the dharma."

After the chant reverberated around the room, Krisadawan Hongladarom, director of the foundation, told the attendees, "We say this with the situation in Tibet in mind: We hope peace will come very soon."

On March 10, to mark the failed 1959 uprising against Chinese rule, which led to the Dalai Lama’s flight to India, Tibetan activists in Lhasa – including many monks waving the outlawed snow-lion Tibetan flag – staged the region’s biggest protest in 20 years.

While China has blamed extremist Tibetans for the murders of several Han-Chinese last week and the destruction of their shops in the Tibetan capital, exiled Tibetan leaders claim that 100 or more Tibetans were killed by Chinese troops in the unrest.

In her office before the prayers and chanting, Krisadawan informed The Nation that she was not in a position to talk about politics.

"We are wondering if we should be holding our next pilgrimage to Tibet because of the situation. We’re not sure if this could be a good time to go, but we want to spread a message of peace and love."

Krisadawan quit her job as an associate professor of linguistics at Chulalongkorn University last November in order to dedicate herself fulltime to the foundation’s many charitable deeds, which include supporting schools in the Tibetan Autonomous Region.

In 2004 Krisadawan founded the Thousand Stars Foundation, a non-profit group that promotes Tibetan culture and religion and tries to improve the living standards of Tibetans. The organisation has about 200 members, mostly Thai.

"Tibetan Buddhism makes you understand your mind," said Charoen Trongvaranon, a gem trader who’s been attending foundation gatherings for a few months.

"When I meditate I get a calm and peaceful mind. Just now we prayed. We sent our love and compassion to the people of Tibet and we have hope. As for the Chinese troops, we cannot hate them. They do things out of ignorance. We hope that some day they will understand."

Charoen said a measure of respect is still due to the Dalai Lama, who accused the Chinese of "cultural genocide" for their moves against the protesters last week. He is "the spiritual leader of the Tibetan people", Charoen noted.

While there was widespread destruction of Tibetan monasteries over the last half-century of Chinese rule, Krisadawan noted that in recent times many temples in eastern Tibet were financed and built by Chinese people who’d learned about Buddhism by Tibetan monks.

In January the base was laid for what will be the foundation’s Tara Great Stupa for Peace and Harmony, at the Tara Khadiravana Retreat Centre.

The Tibetan-style pagoda, which will rise 60 metres, is under construction at the 68-rai sit in Nongplub, about 40 kilometres from Hua Hin. The facility is expected to become the biggest centre for Tibetan studies in Southeast Asia, with a temple, exhibition hall, a library and a more permanent meditation centre.

"The stupa is for peace. The Tara [a female bodhisattva who is dedicated to helping all sentient beings] is for compassion," said Krisadawan. "That is all we need."

For details on the Thousand Stars Foundation and its meditation retreats and projects, call Krisadawan Hongladarom at (081) 343 1586 or visit http://www.thousand-stars.org

The Future of Bhutan

Carleton Cole

The Nation

February 24, 2008

The Himalayan kingdom's scholars are returning home with the knowledge of how to gingerly transform a country that has so far resisted globalisation



Poor in terms of infrastructure and investment, Bhutan is rich in good cheer. Yet its famously content citizens also want to see their country developed further.


The World Bank has hailed Bhutan's per-capita Gross Domestic Product as one of the highest in the region, but frets that poverty still grips some 32 per cent of the population.


"The country has made remarkable progress in socio-economic development," it also notes, in a nod to former King Jigme Singye Wangchuck's focus on Gross National Happiness, rather than Gross National Product.


When British social psychologist Adrian White compiled data from Unesco, America's CIA, the New Economics Foundation and the World Health Organisation in 2006 for the first "global map of happiness", Bhutan ranked eighth among the world's nations.


Believing that the average Bhutanese's happiness would rise even further if there were more roads and bridges, electricity, and better gender relations, thousands of its citizens are studying development and social schemes abroad. Many are university students in Thailand, including at the Asian Institute of Technology (AIT) on the outskirts of Bangkok.

Thanks to its low birth rate and small population, Bhutan has been spared the drastic deforestation that has afflicted other countries, and its scholars share a devotion to green policy.

Yeshey Penjor, who recently earned his master's degree in environmental engineering at AIT, is proud that all major development proposals in Bhutan undergo environmental-impact studies.

Vesraj Bhujel, whose speciality is in electric-power-system management, works for the Bhutan Power Co in remote Dagana district.

"Many parts of the country, especially the rural areas, are still not electrified, and people keep depending on biomass burning or fuels like kerosene and diesel for cooking, heating and lighting," he says. "This contributes lots of undesired gaseous emissions impacting human health and the environment adversely.

"Livelihoods will be elevated through economic-development opportunities, hygiene improvement and the reduction of firewood consumption."

Weaning the populace off fossil fuels and biomass resources is an essential pillar of the Gross National Happiness, Bhujel points out.
Pema Tshering, another AIT master's graduate - in information and communication technologies - says Bhutan Power, for which he also works, strives to ensure that electricity is available, reliable, adequate and affordable to all, which is a "direct link to achieving the national goal of Gross National Happiness".

Bhutan's development also means democratisation - and strengthening the social roles played by women and the poor.

On March 24 Bhutanese will vote in the country's first parliamentary elections, as sanctioned two years ago by King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, who has since abdicated in favour of his son, Jigme Khesar Namgyal Wangchuck.


Keen to see the country move forward is AIT alumnus Rinzi Pem, who works at the United Nations Development Programme's office in the capital, Thimphu, on gender issues and initiatives. At AIT she evaluated Bhutan's Tarayana Foundation, which aids the disadvantaged in remote communities, and now she assists it.

"The UN has a universal goal - a free and equal world for people," Pem notes. "My master's degree in gender and development studies looked into the goals set forth by the foundation as well as the UN. I'm applying what I learned [at AIT] to help people who are not so fortunate."

Gyeltshen Khengpa, who works for the Finance Ministry's Department of Revenue and Customs, earned an MBA in international business at AIT.
"What I learned is enriching and broadening my knowledge in the various management disciplines, so that I'm contributing to the economy of my country in a meaningful way," he says.

"Since our economy is gradually opening up to embrace the forces of globalisation, there are many sectors that call for constructive reforms sooner than later in order to benefit."

Throughout the 101 years since its founding, Bhutan's Wangchuck Dynasty rulers have gradually - and successfully - allowed dollops of modernity to enter their fragile kingdom.

At a recent Siam Society lecture in Bangkok on the Bhutanese monarchy, Francoise Pommaret of France's National Centre for Scientific Research called the Wangchuck kings a source for positive change, modernisation and, most recently, democratisation.

The first of the dynasty, King Ugyen Wangchuk, she said, opened his subjects' eyes to modernity following his trip to British India, where there were trains, roads and electric lights.


His successor, Jigme Wangchuk, "kept the British out of Bhutan. His biggest achievement was keeping Bhutan independent." Then came Jigme Dorji Wangchuck, who "really made Bhutan move forward" by abolishing serfdom, for which she compared him to Siam's Kings Rama IV and V.

The fourth king, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, was "a real visionary. His reign was marked by good relations with India and China."

Having ascended the throne in 2006, 27-year-old Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck is gradually letting his presence be felt, Pommaret said, particularly in sticking to the democratisation initiated by his father.
Pommaret earned a big laugh when she explained how concerned some Bhutanese are about democracy after seeing what happened to Nepal when it tried it on for size.

If anything went wrong with the experiment in Bhutan, she said, the country might experience "protests for the re-implementation of absolute monarchy".