Hello again from Bangkok, where my time is going way too fast. I only have 3 weeks left in this city that I loved at first sight, and I'm trying to cheer myself up about the fact that I have to leave so soon by focusing on the negative. It's hard to think of things I don't love about Bangkok, but for your edification and amusement, here are a few that come to mind.
1. The Dress "Coad"
Memo from my boss: Let it be known that the firm has no policy of permitting other forms of dress coad on week days from Monday to Friday except Saturday and Sunday. No T-shirt are allowed during the office hour and particularly THE LADY'S PANT IS NOT PERMITTED TO ANY STAFF/LAWYER. I received a verbal request that for convenience and suitability, some lady lawyers working under field service or traveling wear pant. Any such request, if any, must be approved by the undersigned. So far I have never approved anyone's case. Thank you.
2. Weight loss
Okay, let's be honest. At the age of 32 and after a year spent eating cheese and studying contracts, a little bit of weight loss was, shall we say, embraced. A pound here and a pound there and suddenly my jeans don't get stuck when I pull them over my knees anymore. Plus, everyone loses weight in Bangkok. But after running around in the hot sun day after day and discovering that most of the desserts are covered with fish eggs, the pounds kept melting away. I would have been happy with pre-law-school weight, but instead find myself closer to pre-high-school weight. One night I was walking to my local subway station when I ran into a guy from my office. He was going my way and, as we walked through my neighborhood, he told me that the guys hanging out on the stoops were referring to me in Thai as "that girl with the stick-legs." I'm pretty sure he mis-translated and they were really saying "that angel of beauty," nevertheless, I'm in search of a good meal.
3. Seatbelts
There are none.
4. Paper towels/napkins
Nope. Instead, every table in every restaurant has a roll of cheap toilet paper inside a little plastic box. Have you ever eaten barbeque ribs in a hot climate then tried to clean your face off with cheap toilet paper? Have you ever spilt an entire bowl of soup on your kitchen counter and frantically tried to clean it up before it dripped all over your floor with cheap toilet paper? When you get an iced coffee on a hot summer day and the cup is all wet from condensation, did you ever try wrapping cheap toilet paper around it? There's a wild rumor circulating Bangkok that the U.S. embassy store has paper towels, but only embassy workers can shop there. In my typical entrepreneurial spirit I am cozying up to every embassy worker I can find in the hopes of obtaining some quality paper goods.
5. Thai
When I'm not creating Joint Venture Agreements and otherwise bankrupting our clients, I spend long hours editing documents that have been translated from Thai to English. The other day around 11:00 my boss gave me a 30-page, single-spaced document and asked me to fix the English, and, oh, if he could have it before lunch that would be great. The entire document consisted of paragraphs like the following: "Style of accounting service as mentioned of the Thailand branch office is providing for the head office only not for any other outsiders in commercial. Thus, the branch will not create any income from the head office for this accounting service." But on the plus side, we have a client named Poo and sometimes I get to write letters to him.
6. Subways
Subways in Bangkok are like subways anywhere else. There's always someone coughing wetly in your ear, there's always some joker who has to read the newspaper no matter how crowded the car is, and there's a plethora of pole-leaners, door-blockers and seat-stealers. What sets Bangkok apart is the fact that the general population here is incredibly short, so the bars and straps for commuters to hang onto are only about 5 feet off the ground. Never having been a tall person and not used to ducking, I constantly hit my head on those bars, much to the amusement of the short Thais around me.
7. Sidewalks
Even though I'm easily the tallest woman in Bangkok and have to duck to keep from hitting my head on subway bars and becoming entangled in power lines, I still insist on wearing 4-inch heels everywhere I go (it's the short-complex I picked up in New York). Problem is, the sidewalks in Bangkok are constructed of Elmer's glue and the remnants of the Berlin wall. Attached is a picture of the sidewalk outside my house, which is actually a prime piece of Thai engineering. Also attached is a picture of the weird shoes I was forced to buy to navigate said sidewalk (actually it's a shameless picture of my skinny legs). With my new spindly legs and big, clumpy footwear I look like a chicken wearing horseshoes, but at least I can walk in a straight line without my knees buckling unexpectedly under me.
8. Hygiene
Here's a news flash: your seventh grade biology teacher was wrong. It's not actually necessary to wash your hands after you use the bathroom, especially if you work in a restaurant.
9. Office Supplies
On my first day of work, I was given a desk with no computer, a box of paper clips, a pen, a pencil, a pad of paper and a tiny stack of post-it notes. I assumed this was a joke (you know, ha ha, let's pretend the new girl has to sit at a desk without a computer), but it turns out it's part of the make-the-intern's-job-as-hard-as-possible campaign. On my second day of work I was assigned to find inconsistencies in a massive stack of due diligence documents (even if you have no idea what that means, I guarantee it's as bad as it sounds). Since I don't have a computer, I was instructed to mark the problem areas with post-it notes. I soon ran out of post-it notes and went to find some more. No supply closet anywhere in sight, I asked one of the secretaries if she could find me some. This seemed to cause great consternation among every secretary on the floor while they had furtive conversations in Thai, looked at me with horror and ran all over the office slamming drawers and cabinets. They eventually produced a little pad of white paper and a roll of scotch tape, and I was later lectured by my boss about conserving supplies (apparently I was meant to cut the post-it notes into tiny shreds before using them). Oh, and the computer? Whenever I have a job that requires a computer (such as writing a letter to a client informing him that I, a mere intern, have single-handedly drafted his entire Registration Rights Agreement out of the gray matter in my head) I'm supposed to run from office to office looking for a free computer. Since practically everyone seems to work non-stop, I usually wait until I see someone go into the bathroom, then I run into their office and use their computer. Yes, everyone in the office now hates the sneaky foreigner who can't just type her stupid Joint Venture Agreement on the typewriter like everyone else.
10. Thai foodAttached is a picture of a menu from a restaurant I ate in the other night. Fried chicken knuckles and fried 'rings' rings. You tell me.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
Lessons in Thai
Greetings from Bangkok, where I am learning new things every day. Some of the valuable lessons I've learned so far are that the doors on Thai elevators don't stop just because you put your arm in them, even desserts may contain fish eggs, and in Bangkok, dancing on tables may not be advisable. Most of the other lessons I've learned involve the law, but maybe even my non-lawyer friends will appreciate them.
On Joint Ventures:
Today the managing partner of my firm, an intimidating and impatient man, tossed a 50-page document called "Joint Venture Agreement" on my desk, said, "Read this, then make it benefit our client," and stalked out of my office. Not only did I not know which end of the document was up, I didn't know which of the parties listed on the front was our client. I stared rather dumbly at the document for a minute, then went running after him. "Um, sir, I uh, I don't know who our client is, and, I uh, don't actually know what a Joint Venture Agreement is."
If I thought this heart-rending confession would get an ounce of sympathy, I was mistaken. He just barked, "I'm not asking you to draft the agreement, just change it so it benefits our client," and walked onto the elevator.
Dumbfounded but determined, I stuck my foot in the elevator (at the risk of losing it) and said, "But sir! I'm just a law student!" To which he replied, "It's not brain surgery," and pushed my foot out the door. Later, after asking nearly every lawyer and secretary in the firm if they knew what a Joint Venture Agreement was and getting nothing but blank stares, I sat down with that document and concentrated on it until my eyes nearly bled. I read every sentence five times and eventually figured out how it worked. After several hours I even figured out who our client was, and began to see that maybe certain things were beneficial to them, while others were not. That's as far as I got before my day ended, and lucky for me the devil, er, I mean, my boss doesn't need this masterpiece until Thursday. I figure my options are either a) flee the country, b) disregard the 13-hour time difference between here and New York and wake up each and every one of my lawyer friends with, "Joe, get out of bed. What's a Joint Venture Agreement and how do I make it benefit my client?" or c) give it my best shot and hope that when the client goes bankrupt I'm already back in New York.
On Courtroom Etiquette:
Last Tuesday one of the lawyers in my office asked me to go to IP (Intellectual Property) court with her. "Opposing counsel is a jerk," she explained, "and he always brings a whole team of lawyers like it's a football game. It makes us look bad." So I put on my little black suit and went to court to pretend I was a lawyer. Before the judges (three of them) arrived, everyone sat around joking and laughing like it was a party. My coworker briefed me on courtroom etiquette, told me I would have to be introduced to the judges, and taught me how to bow properly. She also warned me not to read a newspaper (as if I had one stashed away in my jacket) or cross my legs during the hearing (it's considered rude). As we waited for the judges the courtroom got even noisier, and someone started eating a boiled egg. Opposing counsel shouted at me from across the room, "You're very beautiful," and my coworker hissed at him. Finally the judges arrived. Because the main witness was Filipino and didn't speak Thai, the hearing was conducted in English, much to my relief. When the witness was sworn in, he said, "I swear on the Emerald Buddha and the Shrine of the City of Bangkok to tell the whole truth, and if I don't, may catastrophe befall me and my family."
After the witness was sworn in, three members of opposing counsel promptly threw their heads back and went to sleep, one of them snoring noisily throughout the hearing. When the hearing was over (our side won the motion), we walked past a criminal court hearing and I noticed that the accused were all barefoot. My coworker explained that prisoners wear sandals, and because it's rude to wear sandals in court, all prisoners go to trial barefoot.
On Progress:
Last week all four students from Wisconsin were given a 3-day orientation to Thai law. We sat in a room for eight hours a day listening to leading businessmen and lawyers talk about Thai law. It was excruciating. Halfway through the second day, the managing partner of one of Bangkok's top law firms was talking to us about politics and the law and told us a joke: "When a diplomat says yes, he really means maybe. When he says maybe, he really means no. And a real diplomat never says no. But when a lady says no, she really means maybe. And when she says maybe, she really means yes. And a real lady never says yes." Dead silence descended on the room as the four of us sat there frozen in mortification. The awkwardness eventually passed, but it was one of those moments when I just really appreciated my own country.
On Joint Ventures:
Today the managing partner of my firm, an intimidating and impatient man, tossed a 50-page document called "Joint Venture Agreement" on my desk, said, "Read this, then make it benefit our client," and stalked out of my office. Not only did I not know which end of the document was up, I didn't know which of the parties listed on the front was our client. I stared rather dumbly at the document for a minute, then went running after him. "Um, sir, I uh, I don't know who our client is, and, I uh, don't actually know what a Joint Venture Agreement is."
If I thought this heart-rending confession would get an ounce of sympathy, I was mistaken. He just barked, "I'm not asking you to draft the agreement, just change it so it benefits our client," and walked onto the elevator.
Dumbfounded but determined, I stuck my foot in the elevator (at the risk of losing it) and said, "But sir! I'm just a law student!" To which he replied, "It's not brain surgery," and pushed my foot out the door. Later, after asking nearly every lawyer and secretary in the firm if they knew what a Joint Venture Agreement was and getting nothing but blank stares, I sat down with that document and concentrated on it until my eyes nearly bled. I read every sentence five times and eventually figured out how it worked. After several hours I even figured out who our client was, and began to see that maybe certain things were beneficial to them, while others were not. That's as far as I got before my day ended, and lucky for me the devil, er, I mean, my boss doesn't need this masterpiece until Thursday. I figure my options are either a) flee the country, b) disregard the 13-hour time difference between here and New York and wake up each and every one of my lawyer friends with, "Joe, get out of bed. What's a Joint Venture Agreement and how do I make it benefit my client?" or c) give it my best shot and hope that when the client goes bankrupt I'm already back in New York.
On Courtroom Etiquette:
Last Tuesday one of the lawyers in my office asked me to go to IP (Intellectual Property) court with her. "Opposing counsel is a jerk," she explained, "and he always brings a whole team of lawyers like it's a football game. It makes us look bad." So I put on my little black suit and went to court to pretend I was a lawyer. Before the judges (three of them) arrived, everyone sat around joking and laughing like it was a party. My coworker briefed me on courtroom etiquette, told me I would have to be introduced to the judges, and taught me how to bow properly. She also warned me not to read a newspaper (as if I had one stashed away in my jacket) or cross my legs during the hearing (it's considered rude). As we waited for the judges the courtroom got even noisier, and someone started eating a boiled egg. Opposing counsel shouted at me from across the room, "You're very beautiful," and my coworker hissed at him. Finally the judges arrived. Because the main witness was Filipino and didn't speak Thai, the hearing was conducted in English, much to my relief. When the witness was sworn in, he said, "I swear on the Emerald Buddha and the Shrine of the City of Bangkok to tell the whole truth, and if I don't, may catastrophe befall me and my family."
After the witness was sworn in, three members of opposing counsel promptly threw their heads back and went to sleep, one of them snoring noisily throughout the hearing. When the hearing was over (our side won the motion), we walked past a criminal court hearing and I noticed that the accused were all barefoot. My coworker explained that prisoners wear sandals, and because it's rude to wear sandals in court, all prisoners go to trial barefoot.
On Progress:
Last week all four students from Wisconsin were given a 3-day orientation to Thai law. We sat in a room for eight hours a day listening to leading businessmen and lawyers talk about Thai law. It was excruciating. Halfway through the second day, the managing partner of one of Bangkok's top law firms was talking to us about politics and the law and told us a joke: "When a diplomat says yes, he really means maybe. When he says maybe, he really means no. And a real diplomat never says no. But when a lady says no, she really means maybe. And when she says maybe, she really means yes. And a real lady never says yes." Dead silence descended on the room as the four of us sat there frozen in mortification. The awkwardness eventually passed, but it was one of those moments when I just really appreciated my own country.
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