Backseat scooter thieves snatch from tuk-tuk passengers.
Bangkok theft has gotten bad enough that police have posted warnings about theft from tuk-tuk passengers. The convenient little auto-rickshaws, ubiquitous on the streets of Bangkok, are completely open and often stuck in traffic. Scooters can maneuver the interstices of clogged roads, sneak up on tuk-tuk passenger, then slither away between vehicles to beat an escape.
It’s a technique long in play in Italy, especially in Naples. There, targets of scippatori, the Italian version of scooter-riding bandits, are more often pedestrians. (Though the thieves have a nasty technique for stealing watches from expensive cars stuck in traffic, even with their windows closed.)
When riding in the three-wheeled open taxis, be sure to keep your bags secured, out-of-sight, or away from the perimeters.
Bangkok theft extends beyond pickpocketing and bag snatching to scams that cost the tourist serious money. Particularly prevalent are gem scams, in which the visitor is brought to a “special sale” and encouraged to buy gems for resale at huge profits in their home countries. And bar scams, and vehicle-rental scams, drink-drugging, and pseudo-cops.
As if all these Bangkok theft issues weren’t enough for a tourist to worry about, there’s more. Road safety is one of the worst in the world, with poor vehicle and driver safety standards, little if any enforcement, few ambulances, and roads too clogged for ambulances to get through anyway. Add to that wild motorcycle riders attempting to speed around traffic by veering suddenly onto sidewalks, and even pedestrians must be seriously watchful.
I strongly recommend that travelers planning to visit Thailand read the U.S. State Department’s Country Specific Information on Thailand. Like all U.S. State Department country profiles, it covers very real ongoing crime and safety issues without exaggeration.
Pattaya, Thailand’s got to be the seediest, one-track party-town in the world. It doesn’t pretend to be anything else. Huge signs advertising the Fcuk Inn Bar and Kiss Food and Drink make the theme obvious. Couples like this one are ubiquitous.
Hot, sweaty days are for advertising the possibilities of hot, sweaty nights. Bored “massage” girls pose on plastic chairs in front of their shops, long bare legs ending in spike-heeled evening shoes dangling in the trash-filled gutters.
Just across the narrow lanes, clusters of old, fat, ugly, white men slouch and slump over beers, gathering confidence from one another. They all look the same. They all wear floppy shorts and t-shirts and sandals. Some wear socks with their sandals. These are the tunnel-vision men those pretty Thai girls are dreaming of.
The local specialty, called ladyboys, also ogle these men. Look at the 23-year-old ladyboy pictured at left, who just had her bag snatched while riding on the back of her Italian boyfriend’s motorcycle. (A reversal of the classic Italian scippatori theft, in which the thief—not the victim—is the backseat rider.) The Italian “boyfriend” may or may not have known what was under the coy ladyboy’s skirt.
After dark the lanes explode with open-air billiards bars, tiny beer bars, bars named for your country, pole-dancing bars, and enormous “pussy bars” offering “pussy menus” and buckets of ping pong balls. Establishments large and small feature alluring girls.
The city’s other passion is food. I love the street food culture in Pattaya. Entire restaurants zip through the streets on the backs of tricycles and on motorcycle sidecars, their sauce buckets sloshing and condiments precarious. In grubby plastic baskets they carry the myriad fresh and fermented ingredients that their specialties comprise. Seductive food is cooked to order on smoky charcoal grills or stirred over car-battery-operated stoves.
Hot, ready-to-eat curries are peddled from wooden trays on the backs of bikes, single servings tied up in clear plastic baggies. Mysterious delicacies are baked in bamboo canes—the ultimate environmentally-friendly fast-food container. Longons, lychees, mangosteens, jackfruit, dragonfruit, durian—the tropical fruit displays are mouthwatering.
Whatever your pleasure, Pattaya is to drool for. Western men tend to visit for three week stays. Many or most have met their exotic girls online and come specifically to see them. They pay the girls about US$100 a night to stay with them in their hotels. They might visit their girls two or three times a year. Sometimes the couples marry and the men take the girls away to live in their Western countries.
For a beach resort town, Pattaya’s remarkably unattractive. Where trees should be, tangled electrical wires form a shadeless canopy over streets, the thick cords nearly obscuring the mosaic of signs for Cialis, Viagra, pharmacy, clinic, laundry, and rooms-for-rent. There’s nothing for the eye here—just hard-driven business: that is, the business of the sexual drive. It’s a lewd town, but an honest one, advertising what it’s about in every way it can.
Barely five minutes after hitting the streets of Bangkok, a jolly, friendly fellow approached. Conservative and 50ish, the short man put himself head-on into our path and opened with a warm greeting and big smile.
“Hello! First time in Bangkok?”
“Hi, nope.”
“Oh, I am teacher!” The man gestured vaguely as if his school were right around the corner. “Where are you from?”
“Sweden,” Bob replied.
“Oh, guess where I go on Monday—AmsterDAM! And guess why—honeyMOON!” He put his palms together and gave a little bow.
“Congratulations!” Bob and I said.
“Where you go now?”
“MBK market.”
His face falls. “Oh, I’m sorry, it is closed today. Holiday!”
“Well, we’ll just walk around then. Goodbye!”
Short and sweet. He didn’t persist, like most of his ilk. But the man was a scammer of the gentlest kind. MBK market, a huge mall not far from our encounter, was certainly not closed, and neither was it a holiday. The man simply wanted to reroute our day. He wanted to take us to a tailor, a gem shop, or a souvenir shop he knows of (his “brother’s,” of course), where he’d collect a little commission just for bringing us.
A jackfruit seller in Bangkok wrestles open the huge fruit, then laboriously picks out and trims the delicious yellow part.
While this is a fairly harmless scam, it can lead to serious disappointment. I heard about several visitors who were detoured from their intended destinations by their taxi drivers, thereby losing perhaps their only opportunity to visit the Grand Palace, or the floating market, or wherever they were headed.
Sound naive? To quote myself:
Cynicism is an unnatural state for a traveler who has come far to experience a new land and unfamiliar customs. We’re prepared to accept our local hosts, however alien or exotic they seem to us. After all, it’s their country. We want to like them. Yet, we don’t know how to read these foreigners, even though they may seem just like us. We can’t always interpret their body language, their facial expressions, their gestures. We’re at a distinct disadvantage as tourists and travelers, due to our nature as much as our innocence.
I’ve heard of this tout scam being reversed to the visitor’s advantage. Let a taxi or tuk-tuk driver take you to three shops and collect his commissions. In exchange, the driver should be at your service for the rest of the day.
We good citizens are trained from an early age to respect authority. It’s not easy to ask a uniformed policeman for identification, or even a plainclothes officer who flashes a badge. And if we were to request ID, how closely would we scrutinize it? Would we detect a fake? What about identification in a foreign language, Thai for example, or Russian?
What’s the difference, anyway, between a pseudo cop—an impostor—and a legitimate but corrupt official? Both rely on their perceived authority, both act fast (before they’re found out, by the victim or others), both do the shake-down dance in one form or another. We, the good citizens, never see it coming. “It all happened so fast,” one victim told me, “I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t have time to think.” We’re more than victims of crime here. We’re victims of our upbringing, we who are taught to follow rules and obey laws.
Bob and I were accosted by pseudo-cops in Russia. I can tell you, it’s frightening, especially when the scene expands to include additional players. Sydney’s had them, and so has Barcelona. Stockholm’s in the news now with pseudo cops stationed at ATMs frequented by seniors, collecting PIN codes under the guise of “regulation.”
BBC News reports a horrific scam that takes place in the Bangkok airport. A number of travelers browsing the duty-free shops have been accused of shoplifting, put in jail holding cells, and forced into negotiations that amount to police extortion in exchange for their release. They’re being tricked into relying on the advice of a man who seems to be a police accomplice.
One of the victims in this report, Stephen Ingram, was taken by airport security to a police office, put in a cell overnight, then given an interpreter. The interpreter took him (and his travel companion) to a police commander who attempted extortion of over US$12,000 and threatened a prison stay of two months before they’d even get their case heard. After paying a portion of the “bail,” Mr. Ingram and his travel partner were put into a hotel and told not to leave, not to contact a lawyer or their embassy, and cautioned that they were being watched. They eventually escaped and got the their embassy, where they learned they’d been victims of a classic Thai scam called the “zig-zag.”
An Irish woman was subjected to the same scam when she made a small purchase at the duty-free shop. She bought an item of makeup, which the shop clerk put in a bag; a customary practice, right? On leaving the shop she was surrounded by security guards shouting ‘You! You! You go jail six months.” The shopping bag contained an item not paid for. Did she steal it? Did the shop clerk plant it? Did the guards? The woman was held overnight “in filthy conditions,” and eventually had to pay up to free herself and her passport.
In her case, the Irish woman thought she had purchased two items. She paid by credit card but didn’t pay attention to how many hundreds of baht she was charged. Did the shop clerk intentionally charge for only one item, as a set up? Why, otherwise, did security immediately pounce on this customer?
Both of these examples begin with the company called King Power, which runs the airport duty-free shops, and both include collusion by government officials and others. King Power has tried to substantiate some of its accusations with surveillance video, and has three cases “explained” on its website.
In an article in the Irish Daily Mail, Andrew Drummond wrote that in Thailand (where he is based), this is called the “Monopoly scam, ”
not so much because of the high amounts of money involved but the fact that victims…could buy …˜Get out of jail’ cards to escape airport shoplifting charges. These …˜cards’ were letters issued by the local prosecutor and police.
Fake police with false ID at Bangkok airport. How is one to know what's real?
Bangkok airport, it seems, is infested with scammers, corrupt officials, and according to the pictured article, pseudo-cops. There are more horror stories:
Paul Grant and Lynn Ward, both from the UK, separately reported another Bangkok airport scam. In this one, incoming passengers are instructed by a customs officer to put their duty-free items into their checked luggage when they retrieve it from the carousel, and that they should not declare the items, “or they will be prosecuted for smuggling.” When exiting the customs area, other customs agents “discover” the undeclared items, and levy hefty fines or threaten jail. ATMs are conveniently located beside the customs office, or travelers are escorted to machines in order to withdraw the large sums charged.
If you haven’t read this or another warning specifically about the shake-downs in Bangkok’s airport, you haven’t got a chance should you be chosen to be a victim.
