Thai Christmas

The winter temperature in Bangkok drops to a very comfortable 25C-30C. The farang tourists and expat residents react to the sudden plunge in temperature by not sweating so conspicuously. The trendy, cosmopolitan Thais react to this arctic-like environment by wearing puffa jackets and Timberland boots. Inside the designer clothes stores of Siam and Ploenchit, the winter collections are surprisingly European in content, knitwear predominates.

The surrealism increases as the calendar moves towards December 25th. Thais embrace ‘Khrisamad’ with their normal enthusiasm for sanuk, the all important Thai concept of having fun in everything they do. It is unnerving, in this Buddhist capital, to walk into Siam Centre or Gaysorn Plaza to be greeted by a group of schoolchildren singing carols around a three metre Christmas tree. Visit any of the downtown shopping malls and you are transported back home. Decked out with plastic Christmas trees and lights, piped Christmas music drowning out the sound of the hordes of shoppers browsing the counters bulging with familiar products and brands, it is only the faces that remind you that this is Asia. The street stalls are full of Santa hats, plastic reindeer and calendars of pop stars. It is just like London apart from the weather. And the prices.

Considering that few of the ingredients of a Christmas dinner are produced locally, and that the typical Thai chef will be more skilled with sticky rice than chestnut stuffing, it was with low expectations that we went to the Christmas Eve bash at O’Reilly’s on Silom Road. O’Reillys is an Irish theme pub of the type found throughout the world; all raw wood and dim lighting, and widely differing conceptions of what constitutes a good pint of Guinness. The flyer advertised a live band, but we had come mainly for the drunken expat atmosphere and to eat far too much of the traditional roast turkey with all the trimmings.

Our expectations were accurate. The drunken expats atmosphere was mainly provided by us, the food was predictably poor, but the band were magnificent. Four middle-aged Thai guys with sixties moptops and shiny suits rocked through the early Beatles songbook, adding another surreal touch to an unusual evening.

Outside, dozens of street stalls were selling santa hats with flashing lights. Around the corner, in the heaving mass of Patpong night market, were dozens of people wearing them. We stepped into a bar for a beer, and were met with the sound of an Asian Elvis singing White Christmas.

On Christmas day Bangkok was quiet; not sleeping as a western city would be, but quiet by the standards of a city that never stops. That evening I found out why. When I arrived at Hualampong Station to travel on the overnight train north to Chaing Mai, every inch of the concourse was packed. Everyone was getting out of Bangkok, not for Christmas, but for New Year. That is when the whole country goes to a party, and the country effectively closes for official business for around ten days. Following soon after is Chinese New Year, and then a succession of national and religious holidays, all of which are celebrated with equal enthusiasm by a fun loving nation.