Bangkok-Indian Cultural Dimensions

Fat bastard cuts in line when you’re buying movie tix. Do you:
a) Think “mai pen rai, he must be in a hurry”
b) Think “How rude, I hope a bird poops on his head”
c) Tap his shoulder and say “Hey Mister! Please don’t cut in front of me, it really makes me feel bad.”
d) Grab his collar, call him a pucking frick and pound him for five minutes. Look around and notice there’s now a line circumventing you. March to the front and claim your place.

Salesgirl says “mister/madam we have your size…” Do you
a) Check out her merchandise
b) Check out her merchandise and cry internally
c) Tell her how unkind she is for hurting your delicate emotions by implying that you’re so large that your size isn’t standard
d) Chew her ear with big words like “human decency” and “injustice” while waving your arms around knocking over all the merchandise. Demand a discount then pound her. Then buy a smaller size just to show her you’re not that big.

Restaurant serves your food cold and half an hour late. Do you:
a) Eat it quickly before it gets any colder
b) Give the waitress a puppyface then eat it quick before it gets any colder
c) Tell the waitress how she hurt your sensitive feelings
d) Bust into the manager’s room, shove a fork up his rectum and then pound him. When he meekly explains that sushi is supposed to be cold and it’s only been six minutes, pound him some more and say “cold sushi my foot!”

See, back in the late 1960’s an old white guy named Geert Hofstede quizzed people in different countries and split them into different dimensions: Power Distance (PDI), Individualism/Collectivism (IDV), Masculinity/Femininity (MAS), and Uncertainty Avoidance (UAI). Indians, he found, had the highest Power Distance in the world—meaning my people like having everybody else wiggly wormy at our feet.

Indians also had the world’s 3rd highest Masculinity which means we’re rough’n’tough and even our women love a good catfight. Purr-purr! India’s lowest dimension was Uncertainty Avoidance: we don’t like rules and we’re perfectly cool with being a little out-of-control.

But wait—there’s more! See, it takes a wicked Indian like me to figure out that the white guy wasn’t just talking about Indians. His Cultural Dimensions are bang-on about Bangkok circa 2007.

Check this.

PDI, Problems with Democratic Implementation: we like the idea of democracy, hell we love it so much we complain about our governments, overthrow them, and draft new constitutions so often we’re pros at it (except when our Burmese neighbors defy their military rulers and take it to the streets, then we just ignore them, or maybe we’re jealous of their cool-but-inaccurate slogan “The Saffron Revolution”. It’s really more like crimson or cinnamon. Maybe brick.)

IDV, Ignoring Different Voices: Your typical club night is a lesson in sociology. Oh the Indians keep to their corner (close to the bar), the farangs to theirs (edge of the dance floor) the Nigerians to theirs (quick access to the toilets) and bang in the center the Thais and Thai-Chinese. Mandatory musical chairs policy when the Vikster’s Verld Club opens up next April 1^st.

MAS, My Arse is Slippery: When it rains, we slip’n’slide. When it’s hot, we sweat and slip. I hereby declare us the slippy-arse capital of the world. Next.

UAI, United Alcohol Imbibers: Thank gawd for all those chemicals in our drinking water coating our livers. Thailand is the world’s number 5 in alcohol consumption and no, I’m not proud.

Now baby, we’ve talked of Indians and Bangkokians, but to really mash up into the mind of the Bangkok Indian you need to mash up against Dr. Vikster. I’ve done hours of hands-on research at the bhangra nites, facebook walls and the hottest share groups in town. Come sit with me while I give you a lesson. There’s room aplenty on my lap.

Vikster’s Bangkok-Indian Cultural Dimensions:

Accent Switching (ASW)

Our long lost friend comes home for the hols and busts out a swanky American accent and we instantly drop our “lor?” tinged Thindian accent for a chic Californian one. Week later a rel from India drops by and it’s all hanji-hanji like we just fell off the back of a bullock cart from the motherland.

Food Mixing (FMX)

Cholay with som tum anybody? Khao-pad with achaar and yogurt? Our alu tikki spills into our kaeng thai sharing real estate with dhal and sen-mee-pad and somehow that’s perfectly fine? We Thai-Indians have mastered the science of matching the perfect Thai dish to its Indian soul mate. Of course it helps to Indianize the names of Thai dishes so khao-pad sounds more like cow fart.

Hangover Working (HWK)

Drink like Mr.Walker was our uncle and grunt our way through class/work the next day. But then. We're always grunting our way through class/work so nobody notices.

Parent Management System (PMS)

The ‘rents slap a 10 p.m. curfew and Taliban-style dress code? No sweat. The clever Thindian gurly gets her kicks before sunset. There’s always that friend with the dorm near the university because it’s just so unsafe to go home all the way from Srinakharain to Tha Pra (sounds like thappar) late night after class. She keeps a little black cardigan with her to cover up those sexy spag straps and comes home right on time like a perfectly well-mannered respectable Indian girl.

Yogic Driving (YDV)

Just as all Chinese people are kung-fu experts, all Indians are secretly yoga masters. Mundane activities like cutting toenails activate our higher chakras and lotus flowers bloom atop our heads. Sipping a cup of tea lets us swim through the 11 dimensions of the universe and sprinkle fairy dust on all sentient beings. The unique properties of whiskey allow it to flow directly into the left side of our brain, leaving half our heads totally sober. Let old leftie enjoy the boozefest while we save the right brain for more important skills like flirting with the waitress and driving home.

Manboob Concealment (MBC)

There’s a disproportionately high number of Thai-Indian guys with funny lumps on their chests. Granted, men with titties account for only a small percentage of the Thai-Indian population. There are, for example, far more Thai men with titties (owing to the fact that there are no Thai-Indian ladyboys). I’m not talkin’ silicone here, these the Thai-Indian man-boobs have been nursed since childhood with milk and butter; supplemented with ice-cream, pizza, and instant noodles; enriched further with whisky and those addictively good moo pings on Convent Road. Somebody's going to make big bucks producing the male bra (be it the “bro” or the “over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder”) koz this is the market.

Good news is, there are also a disproportionately high number of Indian tailors, and they’re pro's in the art of manboob concealment. A few clever stitches and some strategically placed vertical stripes and those lovelumps look like they were sculpted by Matt Daemon's personal trainer.

Gossip Magnification (GMF)

You started a tale that started the whole world talking? Our love for drama makes us the world's number one talksters. Like that whisper game we played as kids, tell somebody that "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water" and pretty soon the whole town is on fire. Everybody's talking about how shameless Jack was for tricking innocent Jill by taking her all the way up that isolated hill and how they kept on and on fetching all these pails of goodness-knows-what. Just SEE how they walk around with those cheeky smiles as if it was perfectly normal my gawd these young people now days are just too much!

All men are invited to compete in Bangkok's first-ever Mr. Manboob Competition. To enter, send your picture and details to viksters.verld@gmail.com. Vikster's Thai-Indian Cultural Dimensions are totally made up. Comment on this story or read the archives at http://vikstersverld.blogspot.com. Your comments may be published in future articles, anonymous feedback is allowed.

Vikster's Vocab Share Group: See next week's story Hanji-Hanji: The only words in Hindi or Punjabi you'll ever need to know when talking respectfully with elders. Translates to "yes yes". Cholay: Chick peas Achaar: Pickles that tickle Alu Tikki: The Alu Tikki is a mystical gift from the afterworlds. This alchemy of base materials that requires not a master’s hand, but a heart of gold. It is a clear statement of the glory one might attain by living a life of perfect balance and harmony. It is solid proof of God’s existence. This tender potato croquette packs a gushing surge of heat that hints at molten lava is encased nonchalantly in a tissue-thin carbon crust that recalls sun baked volcanic ash. Atop this exoskeleton sits chutney. Mighty and proud, chutney does not begin to describe this exquisite tamarind emulsion. Sweet, tart and pungent clinging for dear life to this puck-shaped wonder with the determination of an octopus’ tentacles sucking the ocean surface. This chutney is at once thick, and yet weightless, with the litheness of a hovering Tibetan monk making love to a ballet dancer. The Tikki’s outer crust has no reason to ever suspect its amorous intruder. The chutnification process is the yin to the Tikki’s yang. The Shiva to its Shakti—yet the pure Tikki-wala (a Tikki craftsman) is well aware of the textural crunch vital to completing perfect the Tikki. Upon the chutney layer, the Tikki-wala lovingly balances some shredded carrots and turnips adding a final precarious flourish the Alu Tikki w/ Chutney. Dhal: Lentels Thappar: Slap