Backpacker Sans Frontieres

Democracy: As It Only Appears To Be

2006-03-26T02:12:00.000-08:00

If the protests against the Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra says so much of what was not right of what was done by the be-littled PM, it only says more of what a deformed democratic system of this country that often, together with the other so-called 'democratic' systems of many other surrounding countries, are seen to be well accepted by the more advanced and rich nations of the world.

In the blue corner, we have the PM fronting the ruling TRT Party and literally with hands-tied at the back; and in the other the so-called Opposition Party, so impotent to even throw a weak punch at their opponent. At the ring side, protestors continue to punt for a favourable outcome: raring to go into the ring to replace the impotent Opposition Party but find themselves not really qualified for entry and at the same time taking on the back foot by belligerently calling ever louder to the King to intervene.

If the PM were so bad as alleged, he could only be having a good time; with the Opposition Party seemingly not being able to capitalize on the situation and the protestors, apparently well financed and advised by politically experienced people, not really finding the right bearing for what appears originally a just course for their beloved country, if only by so doing they have inadvertently exposed so stark-nakedly their feeling of no-confidence on the political system which ironically they now seem to have to depend on as a last resort for a possible victory against the PM without resorting to bloodshed. The protestors also appear to have not noticed that the Opposition Party has not so far appealed to the beloved King for a royal intervention: an act so easy but one that often raises doubts on the real respect for the Monarch of the caller.

If there are election boothes on election day it does not automatically equate democracy. They however provide objective images for media cameras. Apparently they too have them in the US elections! And in Iraq too!

Cartoon De-light: The Interpretation

2006-02-11T21:59:00.000-08:00

If the Danish press had been so irresponsible, ignorant and foolish, the Western European newspapers and a handful others from the U.S. and elsewhere could only be so knowingly evil in intention to publish the cartoon particularly after the uproar following its first publication.

In my view, if the publishers of the cartoon had been so belligerent and steadfastly believing in the absolute of 'freedom of expression' in whoever's interpretations, it only makes sense if not legitimise the hate-anger of the protestors to the cartoon.

Thus we have the protestors calling for the killing of the publishers in a way we do not see often in other religious groups, provoked or otherwise in defending their religions. In whoever's interpretations that one sees no room for co-existence for the 'infidel', basically meaning people of other religious faiths as if if the world is of only one religion i.e. the religion of the violently protesting, homogenious peace would beset and the world would be void of anarchy like we see everyday and conveniently attributing it to the multi-faiths nature of mankind.

If we are not up to it, please, do not call ourselves a believer of the religion. It is an insult to the sacredness of the religion of which we could, and we have amply proven in history, at best be an interpretor of some kind but never ever close to really understanding it.

Neither should we call ourselves a believer of the principle as difficult to understand as democracy, worse still blatantly championing it. It is an insult to our intelligence to think others do not understand what we pretend to understand.

Democracy: As We Do Not Understand It

2006-02-04T22:07:00.001-08:00

It is pathethic that some other Western European newspapers reproduced cartoons depicting the Prophet Mohammad after a Danish press first published it causing an uproar not only in the Muslim community but also amongst the peace loving world at large. If the Danish press had been irresponsible, the rests could only be so evil doing it with prior knowledge.

In the name of 'freedom of expression', it touched once again the raw nerves of sensitivity which are sadly so much lacking in a multi-religious, multi-culural intra- as well as international envinronment we live in today.

In a broader sense it reflects upon the perpetrators a total lack of understanding of what democracy really is and which ironically is championed most fervourishly by none other than themselve.

You have to lower the volumn of your hi-fi simply because you do not live alone on this planet.

You should no longer go on forcefully touting 'Our Way of Life', for the village we live in today is too small even for a placard of this nature.

Understanding these, you'd understand democracy and that would lead you to understanding the true meaning of freedom which is only as free as it is relative to the aspirations of the others living by you.

Please, live and let live.

03/09/2004 - A Sad World

2004-09-02T23:43:00.000-07:00

Time for a little politic. To be precise, it's the highlight of the politic of this sad world. Read the following excerpts if you've had prior knowledge of the case:

AFP 3/9/2004 : 'Malaysians cheer Anwar's release'

http://sg.news.yahoo.com/040903/1/3mvx4.html

The Bar Council, which represents some 8,000 Malaysian lawyers, said the Federal Court's decision Thursday to uphold Anwar's last-chance appeal against his sodomy conviction showed that "Malaysian justice can be independent of politics."
"Anwar's case has for many years weighed heavily on the conscience of ordinary Malaysians," chairman Kuthubul Zaman Bukhari said in a statement.
"It is hoped that today will set the future direction for our judiciary to regain its independence and credibility."

AFP 3/9/2004: 'Anwar's release roils Malaysian politics'

http://sg.news.yahoo.com/040902/1/3mvcm.html

Foreign governments and rights groups hailed Anwar's release, with the United States saying: "It is gratifying to see that justice has now been served."
Amnesty International, which had adopted Anwar as a prisoner of conscience, said in Washington the release signalled "a new beginning" for the country.

Now, if the due process of the legal system has been so much criticised when Anwar was first convicted, one would be reasonably expected to be quite surprised by the speed with which the appeal has been processed and accepted and apparently free of political interference, wouldn't it? Where are the great voices of some big-stick wielding nations and influencial bodies like Amnesty in questioning the credibility of the judicial system like they had when he was first convicted? Instead, we hear immediately of 'justice has now been served' and with it 'for our judiciary to regain its independence and credibility'. What a quick draw of a self-serving MacGraw! Don't the CIAs and FBIs have too little to do at the moment?

I am and can only be apolitical if you think a homeless backpacker like me has more of the mundane of every life to worry about. The entire episode of the political saga of Anwar is totally, I repeat, totally incidental to the subject of my greater concern of a sad, sad world that, fortunately or otherwise, we all share and live in. I have no personal objection if you call it 'civilization'; neither am I going to carry 'The World Ends Tomorrow' placard any time soon, but for the sake of decency, I write to highlight what seems should be more integral and of greater concern and yet been purposefully left at wayside purely for self-interests.

20/07/2004 A Short Trip To Indonesia

2004-09-02T09:18:00.000-07:00

I like the rich cultural heritage of Ubud, but not the pretence of some Balinese hiding behind the veil of a false perception of the people being seemingly so untainted by the materialism brought by the tourist trade. If not, why then do most homes in Bali have at least a fierce dog each, often let loose to harass strangers walking the street in front? Why then are monkeys of Uluwatu seemingly so well trained to snatch from behind eyeglasses of unsuspecting lone tourists? Why then do you have to keep a close watch on your rented motorbike in Kintamani, lest somehow you’d need repair job done on the bike before being able to return to wherever you’d come from?

I like Surabaya, not for its hot weather and the lack of places of interest to visit, or the sprawl of the city that rendered me exasperated and immobile, but rather its friendly Juanda Airport. It caters for all. Not the shiny cold floors of snooty KLIA and the like can ever come close to this ‘Stasiun Bis’ of aeroplanes. Clean and orderly but it’s the cheery crowd of people seemingly of all walks of life jam-packing the arrival gate and who, if you are leaving Indonesia from here, will ensure its not too late to cast a lasting piece of memory in a departing tourist of the life and its diverse people and, I’ve yet come to the inevitability of finding a nice warung of the delicious Nasi Padang. Sadly, I find the same too in KLIA but of a sanitized and plastic kind.

I like Malang, not for what I thought it would offer in my imagination after reading about it before coming here but for the little surprises I encountered that more or less compensated for the ‘quaintness of a little hill town’ that it never really delivered. But, come to Malang, the scenic Gunung Bromo, cast in setting sun and standing majestically seemingly only at the end of a vast golf driving range, will certainly help soothe and put you at awe with its beauty if you’d just come to the end of a gruelling long journey travelling in Indonesia. It certainly helped the drive of the golf balls better.

I like Indonesia, despite its reputation in recent international politics, the barbaric treatment of its citizen of Chinese origin by the people of power, the constant travel warnings given by rich nations to their respective citizens, just to name a few amongst the long list of infamy attached sometimes unfairly to this vast but fragmented land of people and their religious beliefs, a geo-political reality, a spirit of self-esteem so battered for a good part by poor economy and a common one too made possible by the exclusivity of the more successful nations surrounding it and the rest of the world at large that in an introverted sense enhance the nationhood.

Perhaps I’ve yet seen enough of its numerous islands that dot within its boundary like stars in a cloudless sky, traversed enough the endless vastness of its paddies, climbed enough of its many holy gunungs and gone deep down enough to the very first layer of some steeply descending rice terraces. I care not if the pungently fragrant smell of kretek helped to tell apart the sweet scent of incense of Bali from that of Kathmandu, for the spirits of the Gods of Ganesha and Hanoman can only be so benevolent as their playful appearances in stone statues so ubiquitous in both places and, invariably so playfully confusing to my sense of presence.

I know I shall return, to know more, perhaps even to unravel if I could; not unlike VS Naipaul but his magnanimous intent on uncovering the benignity, deeply buried underneath the volcanic ashes that’s the nation of Indonesia, of the religious root of its people. For me, for sure, I could simply like it more.

My Shoes

2004-08-05T01:38:00.000-07:00

18/09/2003 My Shoes – Tale of a Road-Crossing Frog - Ko Larn

This morning I had my shoes repaired, again, the pair of deck shoes that I purchased during the financial boom year of 1996 at the exorbitant price of 50 US dollars. After that, the world, particularly Asia, witnessed the financial turmoil brought about by the currency crisis of 1997 that started in Thailand like it had never been before, like it never seems to recover, ever after.

Five years into the doldrums of my career, I couldn’t help but feeling nostalgic of the time gone by watching barefooted and rather blankly the cobbler stitching away on my shoes. It was as if begrudging the premature loss of my job in Hong Kong wasn’t enough that I had to be summoned to witness the stitching, to be reminded of the coincidence of changes in the events of the world, my career and in general the well being of this trusted pair of shoes. When I bought it, I was on assignment to the Jakarta Office of Unisys. My time with Unisys was however a short-lived one, but it was ‘the job’ of my entire career, talking about great men and their aspirations! Since then, nothing I considered real well happened like it had previously in terms of jobs and moneymaking. But, just as well as I discovered as a result of it that life isn’t after all only about those things that preoccupied, be they mostly gainful ones. And I was certain that the last strengthening stitch he did on my shoes was not going to be the last that this strong pair of leather trust-worthy will be with me, taking me further.

In a nutshell, or should I say within the frames of my soles, it witnessed too in silence the high and low of the period of universal economic and financial meltdown. You can say it stood me up to face the music like so many unprepared others however unwillingly going through the thick and thin of life over this difficult period. If you think you would not normally throw your wife away simply because of a vow by her to do the same, would you do the shoes, especially if it’d already come along way with you and most of all having more than fulfilled its primary function in a vow it did not even bother making in the first place?

But the pressure was on as the cobbler half-heartedly thanked me for the payment and reminded that the leather was no longer strong enough to hold the stitches for long. I did not want to bother him further as I thought having undertaken to repair my shoes in the first place was bothersome enough for him if not already having had to reschedule some of his more lucrative work, judging from the look on his shelves of pending jobs of many pairs of knee-high leather boots sent in presumably by the ubiquitous working girls of Pattaya, whose number would easily put Imelda Marcos to shame if she were so confident in donating all of her thousands of pairs of shoes from her infamous royal collection to style the girls up for easier pick.

I left wondering if I could somehow, at the end, the real end, of its final useful life, flatten my shoes to what you’d sometimes find on fine gravel of some tarred roads paper-thin dried hide remain of a once brave road-crossing frog, sticking flatly and firmly on the surface? That way perhaps, I could preserve it by having it framed up as a souvenir of my travel, my life! Well, it just might mean nothing much to anyone else, but it shall certainly be very precious to me in that it represents much more than just a collectible a good traveler would pick up along the way. It’ll be a reflection of the underlying qualities that I cherish. It’ll be a testimony. At the very least, it’ll be a good food for thought that during its walking lifetime, it was once at least as if as brave as a road-crossing frog. At worst, it still has yet bothered with having to make a vow!