Indian Rope

One of the many benefits of working legally in Thailand apart from the fact that it massively impinges on your freedom of choice of employer is that when you leave the country for any period of time you have to purchase a re-entry visa so that your existing visa isn't invalidated (what nonsense, I suppose Thais leaving the country invalidate their citizenship by the same logic). This of course costs 1000 baht and takes a small era to obtain from the immigration office on Sathorn. Did I write benefits? Sorry I meant something else beginning with 'b' and ending with 's'.

All credit to those down at immigration, they've designed not only a million and one ridiculous ways to extort money from Johnny Foreigner, they've designed a a queueing system with numbered tickets and counters and digital signs to help make that feeling of being screwed over that much more comfortable and organised.

When you enter the office you queue up for your relevant form (re-entry, lost passport, god bothering missionary visa etc.). Then you go and fill it in, glue your picture to it and go back and queue up for the number I mentioned earlier.

You do all of this, unless, you are a fat Indian cow in a bright pink sari made of enough material to unravel all the way to Kolkata, and a tilak the size of the same city's circumference stuck on your forehead. In that case the system doesn't apply to you and you may negate it by sheer obstinate will.

I mean queue pushing and then quoting Thai maxims such as 'jai yen yen' and 'mai pen rai' is one thing (and she did), but then trying to push in front when you have a ticket that reads 172 and the number at the board is still at 165 is in another dimension, especially when it's at the climax of a two hour wait. It takes some front trying to break the empirical laws of the numerical system.

On pointing out her basic faux pas, she had the cheek to ask 'why you cause problem?' On responding it's not your turn and you're screwing up the system causing everyone who's waiting their turn to wait longer,' she shouted '171 go home,' I replied 'yes but 166, 167, 168, 169 are all still waiting' she shouted 'why you fighting?' At this point, I considered for the first time ever, why Winston Churchill declared in response to requests to send food to India at the height of the Bengal famine of the early 1940s: 'I hate Indians. They are a beastly people with a beastly religion.' (I'm not even a fan of Churchill's apart from his Mary Astor comment, but you get my point)

I think my Grandad Booth had a similar problem with queueing and Indians and he affirmed at the time 'in England we queue'. I could of course be mistaken on this point but if I'm not, I definitely derived his queueing gene and hope it will be passed on to Bamboo.

Take it Easter than India