Police Raid in Thailand!

Bangkok
Fri May 27, 2004

About 7am, I awoke in the pitch black of my airless tiny room to the sound of aggressive knocking. Muffled male voices with foreign accents demanded to be let in. In my half dream state, and with my good ear covered, it seemed like someone else's movie. Being scrupulously innocent of any illegal activity lulled me into a false sense of security. I tried to go back to sleep. The increasingly urgent knocking and demands continued, and it wasn't until I rolled over and exposed my good ear that I realized it was me they were addressing.

Confused, I peeked through the curtains into the dark hall. A large flashlight shone in my face and I briefly thought there might be another power outage or perhaps some emergency that required rescue. How misguided! Again the lead person demanded to be let in, and announced "POLICE!" I asked to see a badge. He had none and merely shone the flashlight on his uniform's chest plastered with the large letters "P-O-L-I-C-E". There was some commotion from about the sea of dark uniforms behind him. Being naked and alone, and apparently outnumbered, I felt vulnerable. Being from the ID carrying US and familiar with rape and robbery scams involving fake uniforms (there and abroad) I wasn't convinced until a hotel employee, a young man in a different uniform who I vaguely recognized, looked worried and concurred they were real and implored me to let them in. He flashed me something that looked like an employee name tag... or maybe it was sets of keys or a registry. It all happened so fast. I agreed to let them in but insisted on putting on some clothes. They didn't seem too pleased about that. I turned on the blindingly bright florescent ceiling light, tied on my sarong, and with bare shoulders and knobby knees exposed, I opened the door. The hall seemed filled with dark uniforms.

The room was entirely too small for group entry, so most of them stayed in the hall while their eyes darted about.

Fortunately, my minimalist room and belongings were unusually tidy and organized. That, and my stark white blanketless bed, gave the distinct impression of openness and lack of hiding places. They made quick work of searching my room. They requested I open my massive see through toiletry bag, and didn't touch anything until they saw some small red pills. At this point they became quite excited and reached into my bag for closer group inspection, and sharply asked what they were. Unfortunately, most of the pills had been punched through the foil backing, so I had difficulty reading a complete description. I also didn't have my reading glasses. I anxiously squinted, and said I didn't remember. Fortunately, we eventually made out the words "N_SAL D_ _ _NGESTANT". They became increasingly less aggressive as they determined that I was alone and saw my passport concurred with my registered citizenship. They didn't bother searching my small backpack or suitcase. They apologized and moved onto the next room.

They spent a good amount of time with the people in the next room. My bladder was now fully awake, so despite my paranoia about arousing suspicion that I was tossing some illegal goods, I ventured to the nearby toilet. They were raiding a couple. As I sat on the toilet, I could hear the sing song voice of a Thai woman talking to them. Her good natured almost joking tone was quite a contrast to my grumpy if respectful greeting.

After the police finished with them, I visited the couple through their still open door. I wanted to reassure them that they were not alone in their experience. The room was in shambles and they seemed slightly stunned. They felt better knowing that I had also been searched, but were disturbed that their search was more invasive. Apparently, an old frayed cigarette butt in the backpack of the blond curly headed anglo guy, peaked their interest. It was then that the guy learned from his companion that one of the officers had asked him how much he had paid for the young woman. The woman had explained that she'd known him for over a year. He was aghast and indignant, and she was highly disturbed that "the police don't even respect their own people". She left for home with a short discussion of time left on some handphone card.

I learned much later that the hotel staff unlocked the door while they were lying in bed naked, and that the police made the man remove his towel and "spread em" for inspection... much more invasive indeed!

Afterwards, I enquired with the useless counter people about how often this sort of thing happened. She referred me to what turned out to be a higher ranking police officer (he didn't bare the title on his chest, but had many colorful badges and stripes and glittering metal bits). He explained in cryptic English that searching was infrequent and routine. The last time they'd raided this place was one or two years previous. He was the most relaxed of the uniformed bunch, and I think he sat downstairs while his minions did the actual searching and interrogations.

I walked down to the corner accommodation's cafe, and asked some guests if they'd also been raided, and shared my experience. Apparently, not all the buildings were bothered. I drank my nescafe, and pondered the possibilities.

Well... it's now breakfast time. I hope to do a little raid victim bonding, and shake the remaining disturbance. I must admit that I'm feeling pretty alienated by the lack of concern and hospitality of the locals. This raid was an unwelcome intrusion, especially after being ignored and stranded for over an hour on the 4th floor last night, during a power shortage. No one came up to check to make sure that no one had fallen or was trapped in the dark halls or showers, or to offer candles. Fortunately, I groped my way down the pitch black hall, to some stairs without incident, and then toward an outdoor balcony lit by the last light of dusk. The staff was hanging out downstairs at their usual ground floor posts in the open air lobby/cafe, well lit by many candles. They just sort of shrugged when I said I was worried being stuck up there with no one to check on me or help me downstairs.

As much as Bali was lacking in respect for privacy, the level of responsibility about emotional and physical caretaking is much higher than in KL and Bankok. They made sure that guests weren't afraid or worried about anything. During a power outage in Bali, they may have been lame and not have had a flashlight... but they checked on me and would have shared their candles had they had any. Even in the cheapest accommodation in Bali, the hotel staff will carry your heavy bags for you, and in some cases tote you to the next accommodation. Here, they generally don't give a shit. Of course, I am in a city bursting with an endless procession of budget backpackers. Business is good. Surprisingly, the level of English of the staff is much lower in Thailand than in Bali or Malaysia, and worse than I remember from my trip of 3 years ago. No one will bargain about room prices, and attitudes are almost sullen. I wonder if it's my perception, or the people, that have changed.

Ah well... time to deal with breakfast, and travel and banking logistics. I've had 4 different languages and currencies to deal with in less than a week. I'm nervous about handing my passport over to travel agents for Cambodian visa clearance, but a frequent travelling business man said he'd never had a problem in all his many years of travel and that the $1 USA charge was worth avoiding a wasted day on the buses. Always healthily suspicious of strangers unsolicited advice and motives, I will probably still go that route.