It's ten minutes after 11. As I scribbled these first words in my notebook, I was lying in bed, listening to music on my repurposed iPhone, which has now outlived its original role of making and receiving calls, serving now exclusively as an mp3 player and solitaire venue. And I wait.
The rain, which started ten minutes ago, comes down in a strange mix of urgency and resignation. There is something relaxing about it, and yet . . .
The floodgates around Bangkok can't take much more, according to news sources. I've seen the pictures everywhere--on the indecipherable front pages of Thai newspapers, in the Internet news stories, on the television set at Genu's (a local restaurant so delicious and cheap I don't hesitate to overlook the occasional mini-roach scurrying across the table--hey, it's not actually
in the food). The images both report and prophesy. They show what has happened and suggest what is to come; they are both emotional and aloof. It's like most things with the flood--it's a presentation of opposite, competing feelings.
I await, for example, the floods with a mix of nervous apprehension and excited watchfulness . . . it's like I've set a trap for Santa Claus, but I don't know if he'll be lucid or violent when ensnared; I don't even know if he'll fall into my ingeniously placed deadfall. Yeah, it's exactly like that.
I've been in several minor floods since I've been in Thailand, from occasional ankle-soakers on my soi to filthy, knee-deep rivers on a night I'm not likely to soon forget in downtown Pattaya. But what's potentially about to happen . . . well, that's a different story altogether.
What do you do in the case of a flood? I've always had the fantastical dream of swimming in a flood, that maybe I'd be able to swim through houses, as though I was scuba diving in a bizarre, sunken duplex. That's not likely to be my experience (it's not likely to be anyone's experience, actually). Anyway, standing in the doorframe or crouching beneath a table seems to be a far less-effective means of protecting myself in a flood than in an earthquake or tornado.
The news organizations have been releasing death tolls, staggeringly high numbers. As of today, nearly 270 people have lost their lives in Thailand's floods since the 25th of July, and the numbers are likely to grow as the flooding continues. How many more people have been displaced or lost everything?
The most modest estimations have put the damage costs in the hundreds of millions of dollars, while the financial leaders of Thailand have suggested loftier losses, in the billions of dollars.
Let's be honest, though--I'll be ok. I live on the fifth floor; the water won't go that deep. If I lose some stuff, oh well. I have people who would be glad to send me replacements of the things I own. If something truly horrible were to happen, I can be evacuated, not just out of the area, but to the opposite side of the world. I sincerely doubt anything could happen that would lead to that chain of events, but the point is I have an incredible safety net, especially compared to most of the people who live in the flood-affected regions of Thailand. This should ease my mind, right?
And yet it still rains. This type of event has that delightful impending feel to it. It's not like an earthquake, where it just rolls up on you without warning and says, "boo." This is a waiting game, for something which may or may not come, and my partner in this game is the feeling of doom in the pit of my stomach. It's kind of like playing bridge with a foreboding shadow on my team, minus the cards, the fun and the sense that I might win (though I doubt very strongly that I would hold on to the hope of winning in any game when my partner is not human, animal or mineral, but rather a clump of particles, or, in this case, a general feeling).
There's no telling how hard it will come if it does arrive. Maybe Bangkok will be like Ayutthaya, neck-deep and deadly; maybe it will just get some sneakers wet.
Either way, I would ask you to keep the Thai people in your thoughts and prayers over the next week (floods are forecasted as likely to come anytime over the next seven days, with the greatest likelihood falling on the 16th through 18th of October). People are gearing up for a rough weekend, proven by the chaotic scene my local 7-11 yesterday. (I even got into the spirit. What started as me getting important staples, however, quickly devolved into my purchasing a number of cookies and, as a grand finale, two tubs of ice cream. You can never be too prepared, you know? That being said, I have unfortunately already consumed one of the tubs of ice cream. Discussions continue in my apartment regarding the fate of the remaining carton.)
We don't know what will come, but regardless, please remember the situation in Thailand and the relief efforts to follow. Also, look for ways you can help the situation; a perfunctory glance online showed me only local places in Thailand at which I could donate, but see if the Red Cross in your area or ADRA is doing anything for the displaced people of Thailand.
Oh, and I saw this article this morning. Worth checking out:
http://www.bangkokpost.com/learning/learning-from-news/260826/crocodiles-in-the-flood-waters
It describes how a pretty large number of "tame" crocodiles escaped when floodwaters overtook their farm. (It's not what you are thinking; unfortunately, it
doesn't contain a bunch of crocodiles in adorable old overalls tending to the harvest of corn. Rather, it is a place where crocodiles are bred and raised.) Most of them are still loose, but farm directors insist that the crocs are afraid of people and have "no instinct to attack humans." Right. We'll see.
