‘Happy New Year’ beyond the River Kwai

Press, 15 April 1986, Page 24

‘Happy New Year’ beyond the River Kwai

By

GEOFF MEIN

and

SUE LANCASTER

in Thailand

Hanging on the wall of a small cafe in Nam Tok is a combination of photographs which in many parts of the world would be considered obscene.

Wedged between smiling members of the Thai Royal family and grimfaced Buddist monks are several glossy photographs of immodestly-clad Asian women in erotic poses.

At first sight the contrast is striking. But offence is not taken easily in a town such as Nam Tok, which generates its own relaxed pace and values. The visitor who pauses to sample the laidback atmosphere becomes aware of a finely-tuned sense of calm. The sequence of photographs is soon forgotten. Things could have been different for Nam Tok. Nestled beneath hills near Thailand’s western border with Burma, the tiny town has become the terminal station for what used to be known as the “Death Railway.” During the Second World War, the Japanese Army forced thousands of Allied prisoners-of-war to build the notorious line from nearby Kanchanaburi to Burma. Dramatisation of the saga in the movie “Bridge over the River Kwai” turned Kanchanaburi and its bridge into tourist attractions, although few travellers bother to take a local

train along the remaining 50 km stretch of line to Nam Tok. Those who make the effort are rarely disappointed. During its twohour journey, the train passes through channels cut from solid rock and over wooden scaffolding perched precariously against cliffs overlooking the river. “Death Railway” is an appropriate title for a line which during construction claimed the lives of 16,000 prisoners from Australia, Britain, the Netherlands, the United States, Canada, and New Zealand. As the terminal station, Nam Tok could easily have capitalised on the tourist dollar. Whether intentionally or not, the town has missed the rush. Package tourists travel to Kanchanaburi from Bangkok to dine on houseboats below the River Kwai bridge. The handful who take the train to Nam Tok station are whisked away by out-of-town entrepreneurs for raft trips, elephant rides and airconditioned lunches. The small station quickly empties, and only a trickle of visitors negotiate the dirt track to discover the town across the railway line.

A quaint mixture of old and new suggests that the inhabitants of Nam Tok have taken what they liked from Western culture, and ignored the rest.

Chilled coke and pepsi cola is sold from the cafe’s stainless steel refrigerator, but multiple purchases are calculated on an abacus which hangs on the wall beside the erotic women and squatting monks. The driver of a late model van with tinted windows is forced to weave slowly around potholes in the main street. Dust disturbed by the moving vehicle coats a family preparing its midday meal on the footpath outside the cafe. Television aerials

sprout from the roofs of bamboo shacks and drab two-storey wooden buildings which line the street. Nailed to a door at the end of the block is a signin English which informs the visitor that he has found the post office. A bright red mailing box stands out like a beacon against the weathered grey walls which have never seen paint. A crude padlock indicates that the Thailand Post Office’s Nam Tok branch is closed. The only fast-moving figures in town are the

British footballers running across the colour television screen in one of the barber shops on the main

buzz slowly between stacks of raw fish and fried bananas.

street. Seven boys cram round the set as a friend has his hair cut. Business is not as brisk at the barber’s shop across the street. His television is black and white. A girl snoozing on a table at the market epitomises the pace of life. The book that put her to sleep is still clutched firmly in one hand. Scruffy dogs amble from rubbish tin to rubbish tin. Even the flies seem to

Nam Tok represents a part of Thailand that has refused to be intimidated by Western values introduced by the tourist influx. The occasional visitor might be left wondering whether the HAPPY NEW YEAR sign still hanging in one shop was meant for this year or the year before. But such a trivial question is not likely to occupy for long the minds of the residents of Nam Tok.