Adapt, Resist, Deform, Reform

[Cape Town, 9/18/21]

On the grimy wall over me is a flyer for a missing cat. In the color xerox, this white and tan pussy is lying inside an old cardboard box. Despite this, its owner is clearly not indigent, for the reward is $100. The average monthly salary in Phnom Penh is only 300 bucks.

Sure, some Cambodians eat dog and cat, as do Vietnamese, but the majority stay clear of such delicacies. In Thailand, such meats are banned. After WWII, even pork was frowned upon because it was deemed too Chinese. This went nowhere, though. Pork is too tasty.

Until the Meiji Restoration of 1868, Japanese ate no beef. Encountering beefy whites forced them to change their diet, to grow taller. Before fighting Russia in 1904-05, they were still concerned about their smaller soldiers, then they won. Now, Japan produces the best beef in the world.

When a culture is threatened or already overrun by another, it must quickly overhaul itself.

In 1913, Nguyễn Văn Vĩnh wrote in Đông Dương Tạp Chí [Indochina Journal], “Us Annamese have the strange habit of laughing in any situation. If praised we laugh, but when criticized we also laugh. Good we ha, bad we ha, right we ha but wrong we also ha ha. When you bare your teeth ha haing at everything nothing is serious.”

Though I can’t find the texts from a sidewalk in Phnom Penh, I remember Phạm Quỳnh at the same time telling men to wear their hair short and women to not sleep in the kitchen.

Thai dictator Plaek Phibunsongkhram didn’t just opine, but initiated a cultural revolution in 1939 that changed his people forever, “We must be as cultured as other nations otherwise no country will come to contact us. Or if they come, they come as superiors. Thailand would be helpless and soon become colonised.”

Among Phibun’s mandates, “Thai people should make an effort to consume only food made from Thai products.” “Thai people must extol, honour and respect the Thai language, and must feel honoured to speak it.” “Thai people should not appear at public gatherings, in public places, or in city limits without being appropriately dressed. Inappropriate dress includes wearing only underpants, wearing no shirt, or wearing a wraparound cloth.”

So no sarong or women baring breasts, but learn to wear pants. Social evolutions, though, have their own quirks and proclivities, so you have Thais these days not just showing their boobies but everything else to brooding or prayerful strangers, with many arriving from the furthest corners. Generally speaking, Thais are the most tastefully attired among Southeast Asians.

During the Vietnam War, the Vietcong were routinely described by Americans as wearing black “pyjamas,” but matching shirt and pants are common even today, and never meant as sleepwear. In Vietnamese, they’re called đồ bộ, meaning “suit.” Now rarely black, they’re likely lurid or even psychedelic in design, with GUCCI, Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Hello Kitty or English, often nonsensical, imprinted.

Western clothing, then, is often modified to suit locals. The oddest case of this, perhaps, occurs among Herero women of Namibia. Worn for a century, a colorful, billowing dress with puffy sleeves and UFO-like headdress have become traditional.

My last sighting of such was outside the Hungry Lion on Independence Avenue in downtown Windhoek. As I stared at a flyer for English lessons, “English is life and it is the most business language spoken worldwide,” a Herero woman trudged by. Before the arrival of whites, Hereros wore hardly anything, but that’s because they lived on a hot, mostly barren land. It’s so dry my handwashed clothing dried quicker there than anywhere else I’ve been.

Phibun also told Thais to stop eating with their hands. Though I never saw this in Bangkok, Pattaya or Chanthaburi, an American just informed me, “In Isan (northeast Thailand) eating with the hand is quite the norm. BTW, at lunch I saw my wife eating rice with her hand—weird…”

People will only make changes they deem necessary, reasonable or attractive, but too often, they’re also forced to do what’s absurd or even deadly, such as being locked inside for weeks, wearing suffocating masks for bogus reasons or having themselves and even their kids Jewjabbed.

Like the Japanese, Vietnamese came to love beef, with their phở, a dish likely spun from pot-au-feu, gaining popularity worldwide. I had a decent version in Belgrade and a superb bowl in Cape Town. What I was subjected to in Prague, from a Vietnamese, no less, was criminal. Though Phở Bay is popular in South Korea, it seriously sucks.

Though Cambodians aren’t exactly fond of “youn,” many also love the Vietnamese beef soup. There are fine phở joints all over Phnom Penh. This morning, I again sat at Phở Sorya on Preah Chey Chetha. Surrounded by happy Cambodians, I inhaled.

After that last sentence, three orange robed monks appeared right in front of me, to receive money from my beer seller. In exchange, he gets three seconds of prayer. More monks will stop by. Barefoot, they carry umbrellas and, now, wear Covid masks.

Support for monks is even greater in Thailand and Laos. Before 6AM each morning in Vientiane and Luang Prabang, Laotians sit waiting on sidewalks to give offering to monks, walking by in single files.

There is a tremendous irony at work here. In all former colonies, people have retained much more of their identity and heritage than their former masters.

Confined mostly to boutique hotels, hostess bars and “Irish” pubs, Western tourists don’t quite see this. Charmed or amused by the retarded English and goofy clothing of locals, they can easily think they’re still on top and humping away.

Satisfied with cheap blow jobs and promising to come back, most fly home to decay, violence, disintegration and ever increasing barbarity.

Savage, you’re begging to be enslaved, if not killed outright. Already fearful, you will become abject, but as a quick learner, you need not worry. Your progress is assured.

Puckering if not plagiarizing Theodore Parker, Martin Luther King intoned, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

Though one of the dumbest statements ever, it’s often quoted by Americans, but what do you expect from such a self-congratulating and oblivious population?

Although their own history is filled with inexplicable events, they’re simply steered to the next firework show. What does it matter? As long as it’s not literally their own house being blown up, they’ll “get out the popcorn.”

Back in my room, I open a can of Guinness. I’m pleasantly surprised it’s sold right on my block. Such access to exotic items won’t last much longer, so yes, we’ll buy only what’s made or raised nearby, just like our ancestors did until, more or less, yesterday.

Like most of them, we might have to forego money. As for hunting in packs, they’re already doing that in Philly, Oakland and Saint Louis, etc. So vain, you’re imagining yourself spearing some mammal, but it may just be you that’s dinner

The Đinh Dynasty lasted just 12 years, with only two kings. Đỗ Thích was falsely accused of killing its founder and his older, battle tested son, so he was executed, cooked then eaten. I keep returning to Đỗ Thích because I find his case emblematic. I mean, dude was already a eunuch, but having his dick loped off wasn’t enough. They wanted to turn the rest of him into food, then shit.

Are you being transformed into someone’s snack?

[Can Tho, 3/4/19]

[Vung Tau, 6/25/22]

[Phnom Penh, 3/5/23]

[Vientiane, 1/14/20]

[Bangkok, 1/27/23]