Treasures of Thailand, 1960s

The East in the past
18 followers
exponents of their art.
Here is an ancient form of fighting, but the Thais are friendly and peaceable people, and
when the show is over, these exhibition fighters put on the clothes of the present day.
Traditional displays like this make a bridge with the past.
They are an art with a long history, but nevertheless, the Thais are fully committed to the 20th
century.
So Somphong Wongchai, fresh from his athletics at the fighting school, becomes one of the
busy citizens of Bangkok, taking the modern world for granted.
The city is no picturesque survival of a bygone age.
Thailand is one of the nations of the East which has assimilated the technology of the
present day.
The car, the telephone, the poster, and the jet plane are part of Thai life.
But there is a firm foundation below this.
Through all the twists and turns of an ancient history, the Thais have lived secure within
their frontiers and their Buddhist religion.
The climate of the tropics does not give buildings a long life, but these images of the Buddha
have been standing for more than five centuries since they were set up in the one-time capital
of Sukhothai.
Earlier still were the Khums who built the stone monuments of Pimai.
Here were libraries, temples, palaces, all carved and decorated in the 12th century of
our era.
They carve stories of gods and heroes, of ancient battles and the kings who ruled in
those far-off times.
Buddhism is one of the world's great religions and plays a leading part in the life of the
whole Thai nation, public and private.
The Royal Chapel of the Emerald Buddha is one of the principal temples of Bangkok.
There is a lavishness of form and color which is holy Thai.
Everywhere there is gold, gilded roofs and figures, fluttering gold leaf of a thousand
pious offerings.
For the Buddhist leaves a flake of gold as a mark of respect to a holy spot or image.
In the Temple of the Reclining Buddha the gardens and buildings are dominated by the
vast golden image, 160 feet in length and 39 feet high.
People come here to offer their prayers and seal them with a lighted paper or a square
of gold leaf.
Thailand is and has been for hundreds of years a monarchy.
King Rama I began the Grand Palace in 1782.
He chose a style based upon the European, for Thailand's contacts with the western world
are of long standing.
The palace is used for formal receptions and makes an impressive background for state
occasions and royal ceremonies.
Many of these ceremonies revolve around the religious year.
Its climax is the royal procession down the Chao Phraya River to the Temple of the Dawn,
Wat Arun.
The immense royal barges are brought out once a year for this occasion.
The splendour, carved and gilded boats, the 54 disciplined rowers come from the pages
of history.
But the trim figure of the king, symbolising the nation he leads, is completely of the
20th century.
The royal family plays its part as one of the most important unifying elements in Thailand.
How does an ordinary Thai family live?
Here again the Thais have kept a lively sense of tradition while taking wholeheartedly to
the ways of the modern world.
Yesterday's athlete at the sword fighting school is today's young father.
Som Pong Wong Chai sits down to a quick breakfast before he leaves for work in the city and
the children go off to school.
It is a pattern familiar around the world, though here the day starts with rice and pickles.
But traditional customs are still observed.
Family occasions, like little Duangta's birthday, must be given a good start by offering food
to one of the city's monks.
The monastic orders live on gifts of food, but a monk may not ask for them.
He must be invited to the door, where the whole family can acquire merit by sharing
in a present of rice and fruit and some flowers, which the welcome receiver can take back to
his monastery.
Som Pong works for a bank in downtown Bangkok.
Banks in Bangkok do business like banks anywhere else, and the Thais expect their offices to
be smart and efficient.
Som Pong is at work here, checking queries from industrial customers.
The Thais have taken over modern office machinery, though squeezing the 70 or so signs of their
alphabet onto a standard typewriter keyboard presents some problems.
The threads of trade come together in the commercial quarters of the city, bringing
commerce and industry from scattered corners of the land.
A telephone call gives an instant link with an office or factory, joins place to place
and makes each element dependent on the others.
Streamlined development makes the country more compact and unified, so that the products
of the machine shops can fit neatly into the pattern of supply and demand.
The traffic which rolls on the roads runs on tyres, so there's a factory in Bangkok
to make them.
The corded fabric and thick rubber tread are built up, layer by layer, before being moulded
to the final, familiar shape.
The rubber which goes into the tyres comes from Thailand too, from plantations 800 miles
to the south.
The more industry is developed, the more horsepower is needed at its elbow.
In the hills of the northwest, the Pumi Pond Dam rises in a concrete cliff 505 feet high.
This is one of Thailand's key projects, one of the biggest dams in the world.
As with other modern developments, the effect is to draw together the scattered elements
of the country, for the turbines generate electric power which can be carried to 37
provinces, to Chiang Mai 150 miles to the north, to Tak, Thitsanulok, Nakhon Sawan.
Towns which no longer need look only to their own local trade and commerce.
But still, the basis of all wealth, the foundation of all society, is the land.
Thailand is one of the granaries of Asia.
The paddy fields have traditionally supplied the staple food for the country, as well as
grain for export.
But the push to modernisation has brought new crops.
On the upland plains, which are too dry for rice, crops of corn and sorghum are being
raised for cattle feeding.
A few years ago, Thailand produced little corn, now they are one of the largest producers
in the world.
Vegetables for the towns are now grown commercially, and it has become worthwhile to install mechanical
irrigation systems.
In the far south, there are plantations of coconut or vegetable oil.
But here at least, there is one job which no one has yet been able to mechanise.
Coconuts have to be hand-picked, and a well-trained monkey can harvest a hundred coconuts an hour.
Besides, no machine yet exists which can tell a ripe coconut from an unripe one.
From the forests of the north comes much of the world's teak.
Valuable hardwoods need careful felling, and here again, an elephant can pick its way through
the standing timber where no tractor could go, and is still unbeatable for hauling a
twenty-foot log.
Timber, agriculture, rubber, mining.
Every one of these industries stretching over a country fifteen hundred miles in length
needs transport for their products to reach their markets.
Modern highways are one more way in which the far corners of the country have been brought
closer to one another.
All this is mirrored in the papers and figures of the capital's commercial houses, where
the day's work gives a solid unity to these different enterprises.
When the day ends, Somphong, along with his associates, reverts to being a private citizen.
But the labours he leaves are the enterprises which have built the busy city of Bangkok,
with its monuments, public buildings, and boulevards.
And here is another way which modern technology has bridged the country, radio and television.
The two television channels covering most of the country play films from around the
world, as well as their own shows.
In the studios, the organised chaos of commercially sponsored programmes is converted daily into
smooth presentations, which have the distinctive Thai flavour.
creating their popular heroes and heroines, and drawing every village closer to the capital,
the country, and the world.
Part of the atmosphere of Thailand comes from the arts and crafts it has always practised,
making objects not only for use, but for admiration and enjoyment.
The painter gives a flick of the wrist, and there is a posy of flowers on a parasol.
The potter cuts his designs on plates and bowls, decorates them with fantastic shapes
from the world of folklore and mythology.
Cottage industry has captured the world. Thai silk has spread like a rainbow across it.
And yet, its beginning in a basket of silkworms munching mulberry leaves seems unlikely enough.
The worms, they're caterpillars really, are bred in the villages, and kept in flat round
baskets until they make their cocoons.
The silk is then wound into tawny hanks before being bleached and woven into its eye-stunning
final shape.
Of course, the silk itself is only a raw material. It has to be made up.
The Thais have always admired beautiful women from any country, and they have centuries
of practice in finding ways to make them more beautiful.
Jewellers and silversmiths go to work, and from the earth come gems for them to work
on. Rubies, emeralds, pearls, star sapphires, the star of Siam.
The country itself is jewel-like. It's not surprising that travellers from drabber climates
strain their ingenuity to arrange a visit here.
The beaches of the south come very close to a vision of lotus land.
There are miles of palm-fringed white sand, as unspoiled as Robinson Crusoe's island,
where the Indian Ocean washes up corals and seashells.
In the north, the mountain streams tumble through little paradises of bamboo groves.
And the Thais have seen to it that there are hotels, pools, and all the necessary facilities
to add to the natural pleasures of their country.
In parades and displays of many kinds, among crowds scattered over the ground like bright-coloured
as they pound down the racetrack.
Some teams are even prepared to challenge an elephant to a tug-of-war, though it takes
a good many heavily-built young men to make something like an even contest.
The Thais may be gentle and friendly people, but they like a vigorous show.
Every week, the boxing stadiums are jammed with fans watching Thai-style fighting.
Somphong is there and has taken his little son, solemn with excitement.
Thai boxing has a long history behind it, and the rules are complex and tough.
Knees, elbows, and feet are allowed, and the speed and accuracy is dazzling.
So a day ends, but colour and movement still sparkle in the streets at night.
Bangkok is still not ready for sleep.
Once a year, the lights are brought to earth in the festival of Loi Krathong, a celebration
in which the whole country joins under the autumn moon.
People are perhaps more aware than ever before of the links that join the nation.
Lighted floats are set on lakes, rivers, and canals.
They carry with them the cares of the last year and the hopes for a new one.
Good wishes to Sompong, back home at last with his evening paper.
Good wishes to a drowsy duangta, already tucked up in bed.
Good wishes to mother and son, to the family.
Good wishes, carried by the light of Loi Krathong, from neighbour to neighbour, through every
corner of the land of the Thais.
