Guilt And Shame In Southeast Asia

There are things that I feel guilty about, in fact it’s getting to be an impressive list, I’ve had so long to work on it. And shame, well, I’m no stranger to shame either. I have done things that I am embarrassed about, things that no man should ever do, like learn to sing the entire theme song to “Friends,” that was last year.

I read a book long ago that compared guilt and shame, European style guilt v. Asian style shame, guilt culture v. shame culture. It was very illuminating, I wish I could give you the title. One of the main examples was a comparison of the behavior of Germany to the behavior of Japan after World War II. Germany accepted guilt for the acts committed on her behalf, apologized, made reparations, and took steps to insure that it would not happen again, such as including the real facts in its education curricula. Japan, on the contrary, did nothing, preferring to act as though nothing had happened, and if it had happened, it was someone else’s fault, and Japan was just one of the victims.

In the guilt culture of Germany, acceptance, acknowledgement, and atonement equaled expiation; in the shame culture of Japan, even accepting that anything untoward had happened would lead to shame, for entire families, and shame is forever, so take this stony silence and like it, all you dead Chinese, all you sword-practice-dummies, all you casually murdered Filipinos, all you Korean kidnapped sex-slaves, all of y’all go take a walk!

We still remember what the Germans and the Japanese did in the Thirties and Forties, but we give the Germans some credit for sharing our horror of it and dealing with it, dealing with reality. The West is more disposed to accept reality and deal with it; Asia, not so much.

I witnessed a motorcycle accident yesterday in my Bangkok neighborhood. I was walking along the main drag, in the direction of the traffic, when I heard something behind me and was suddenly being passed by pieces of motorcycle sliding down the road. I turned back to look, and there was this guy struggling to his feet near the downed motorcycle, pointing down the road, no doubt indicating the car that had clipped him. He looked like he was trying to will it to stop, and he made some attempts to induce other drivers to chase after them. Pretty soon it was too late for that and they were safely gone.

I don’t know how this accident fits into the above discussion, but I have a feeling that it does somehow. Probably a money thing, more than anything else, if the guy stops maybe he’ll be on the hook for some money. Car insurance is mandatory here, but like everything that has been mandated in the Thai legislature, enforcement is spotty. No, the errant driver just split, not having been caught equaled no shame, and a penny saved is a penny earned, so it turned out to be a good day!

Asia is a different world, and there is more at work here than a little savings of money and the avoidance of taking responsibility. The borders of right and wrong are also stretched in this milieu.

Like cheating on tests. I have taught at every level in Thailand, literally from Kindergarten to graduate school, and I have never encountered any reticence to cheat on tests. Grammar school students are shameless, they will copy entire tests from their equally ignorant neighbor, in fact, clusters of five or six of them will hand in identical tests with identical, hysterically wrong answers. They don’t find anything wrong with the behavior. High schoolers either, except that there they may be clever enough to change a word here and there, more experienced at cheating, no doubt.

What could be wrong with cheating on a test? No one got hurt, and I was just helping myself, where’s the harm?

I didn’t do much cheating in high school, and none at all in grammar school or in higher education. Once, in sophomore year of high school, I was in with a group who got the World History test in advance. The teacher was the coach of the basketball team, and one of the team members had stolen a copy, a good friend of mine was on the team. So the group of us all got like ninety five percent on the test, and it was a tough test too. We never got caught, but even so I felt pretty guilty about it. Well beyond any fear of being caught.

Maybe something like an injury hit-and-run accident, or war crimes, is wrong, but bringing the shame of it back home to the family is more wrong. What about the cheating? I’m pretty sure that’s not considered wrong at all. Same goes for plagiarizing graduate papers, “everybody does it!”

I don’t even understand my own culture, so I guess it’s safe to say that Asia will always be a mystery to me.

Mr. Fred's Poetry Corner: Somewhere In Heaven

A little light verse for your enjoyment! No extra charge!

Somewhere in Heaven

Imagine when upon my sad demise,
After years of cynicism, thought wise,
I found myself in heaven among friends,
Was welcomed to a party without end.


Bright without assistance from the sun,
The temperature is always seventy-one,
No time, no space, but only here and now,
No worried minds, and no more knitted brows.


I was not like the one who had succumbed,
Looked not the aged wreck I had become,
Tattoos intact, I was to youth restored,
And reassured that I’d be never bored.


Remembered from my Bible, yes I read,
That poor guy, Lazarus, when he was dead,
Saint Peter took him to a balcony,
Where he, in hell, the rich could clearly see.


This broad veranda’s now my second home,
There’s time the rest of heaven to be shown,
I always have a cool drink in my hand,
And love to scan below perditions lands.


One day Saint Peter gave my hand a shake,
Declined a drink, said, “I’m just on a break.”
But took my earnest offer of a seat,
Said, “Freddy, we’re all friends, just call me Pete.”


Through heaven’s lens we both could plainly see,
All hell-bound souls, could find them instantly,
And Satan too could we closely observe,
He tortured those poor souls with fearsome verve.


“He must be very angry, all this time,”
But Pete just smiled, he took a different line,
“He’s not so bad a sort,” I heard him say,
“You should see his apartment, take your breath away!


There’s air-con there, and a much better view,
Than this one, here spread out in front of you,
He has the Platinum Package, big TV,
His friends go down to see him frequently.”


“I thought, the war in heaven, and that God,
You know, it hurt His feelings, took it hard.”
“No, all that stuff was over long ago,
But we’ve still got the system, don’t you know.”

Thai Muslims

Thailand is predominantly Buddhist, but there are lots of Muslims too. The largest numbers are in the old peninsula trading centers, Phuket island, Songkla, Nakorn Si Tammarat, the south; there's a large Muslim community in BKK, and my neighborhood is the main location. But there are Muslims all over Thailand.


These two friends of mine in the pictures are Muslim. Khun Anchuda illustrates an interesting point: not all Thai Muslim women dress the same. There's a wide range of dress, from standard modern, like Anchuda, through head-scarf to completely veiled. Men, too. Ajan (Prof) Apichai is typical, nothing in his dress identifies him as a Muslim, but some guys wear the beards, and little hats, and man-dresses.

It was interesting to me that in both cases, other Thai's were quick to tell me with a smile, he (she) is Muslim! If there's any discrimination, I don't see it.

In the deep south, adjacent to Malaysia, there's some political violence, and the disgruntled population is Muslim, but it's not a Muslim problem. They speak Malay and are culturally Malay, the area was part of Malaysia until about a hundred years ago. There's very high unemployment among the Malay speaking population. That's the source of the problems.

Thai's are pretty level headed about religion. If you're a good person, and play the smile game, it's all good.

Is It Is, Or Is It Ain't Spam?

I'm getting comments like, "I enjoy reading about this subject. I like your blog style. I want to read more." Sometimes there is a link, so that's spam for sure; sometimes there's no apparent link, so I'm left wondering.

Are these generalized expressions of interest spam?

Whatever. I've been a little pre-occupied for a few days, but I'll be back in the entertaining you business tomorrow or the next day.

Welcome, And Good Luck

I've noticed lots of visitors these days, and thanks for that. May I suggest that you page back a little bit to "older posts," there's some interesting stuff there, at least I think it's interesting.

And isn't that what blogging is all about? Things that are interesting to me?

On that subject, your comments are always interesting to me, so you may be sure that you have an appreciative reader of your two cents, kindly offered.

Corporate Persons Win Big

I'd like to write something pungent and/or helpful in light of today's Supreme Court endorsement of unlimited corporate money in American elections, but I don't have the heart.

Money, which has always talked, will now talk in the billions, and more than bullshit will be walking. The curse of even more interesting times. Good luck with that.

The only winners will be the companies that produce political attack ads. Business opportunity alert!

Boomer Nostalgia: The Neighbor’s Barbeque

My neighbor in College Point had a back yard with one enormous tree; about thirty percent of the open space was devoted to his well-manicured roses. He loved to barbeque too, he was a fireman, and it is well documented that many men become firemen because they are very fond of fire.

There was a nice little collection of home-made Adirondack chairs, and a home-made Knock Hockey set up too, for us boys. Watching him start the barbeque was a thrill, and anyone who once witnessed the ceremony will never forget it. He would make a big pyramid of coals in a standard metal barbeque and douse it with a huge volume of ordinary gasoline. He would then warn everyone to keep a “safe” distance, he did this in the theatrical style of a stage illusionist. Once he had everyone’s attention, he would take three or four stick matches, strike them, and throw them about five feet into the barbeque, all in one graceful motion. The resulting ignition sounded like a space shuttle lift off and created a column of fire about ten feet tall.

I am not aware of any injuries that may have resulted from these displays, although the environmental impact must have been considerable. Those were simpler times!