RONAN McGREEVY on how cultural misunderstandings can result in serious trouble
Tourists love Thailand. It has all the attractions of a tropical paradise, with the infrastructure of a First World country. You can trek in the mountains on an elephant in the day and sit down at a wireless broadband cáfe in the evening. Aside from the odd coup, it has the appearance of a modern, get-ahead place, far enough away to be exotic but with creature comforts close at hand.
It looks and feels like a Western country, but there are significant differences, as one Swiss national has found to his cost. The famous Buddhist equanimity and the natives' genuine good nature have given Thailand a deserved reputation as the 'land of smiles'. But the smiles quickly turn to frowns if a visitor is perceived to insult their monarch, King Bhumibol Adulyadej.
Thai people love their king. When I was there last summer, the country was awash with yellow (the king's colour) to celebrate the 60th anniversary of his enthronement. His portrait hung from every lamp post, building front and the dashboard of taxis. The newspapers published countless supplements documenting the king's manifold achievements: his prowess as a jazz musician, photographer and all-round father to the nation.
King Bhumibol is loved in a way that it is hard to comprehend in Western society, where sniping at our supposed betters is what keeps a lot of people sane. It is both touching and bizarre. Think of the Pope when he was here in 1979, except we only had the Pope for three days. The Thais have had their king for more than 60 years and their ardour for him has not diminished.
Having lived in Thailand for 10 years, Oliver Jufer ought to have known better when an off-licence refused to sell him alcohol because it was the king's birthday. Jufer took his frustration out on five portraits of the king, spraying them with graffiti.
Earlier this week he pleaded guilty to the offence of lese majeste, or insulting the monarch. He was hauled away in chains to face his sentence, which could extend from three to 15 years for each offence. Rapists and killers in this part of the world have been let off more lightly.
Previously, a French businessman found himself in a Bangkokjail after insulting the king within earshot of a member of the Thai royal family. He was only released after writing an abject letter of apology to the king.
Ostensibly, the Thais have a free press, at least by Asian standards, but freedom of expression doesn't extend to the royal family. In a Thai restaurant in Bangkok during the summer, a restaurateur told me sotto voce that the Thai people genuinely love King Bhumipol, but have reservations about his son and heir, Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn.
With seven children by three different women, Crown Prince Vajiralongkorn doesn't command the kind of respect which makes his father such a revered figure, but you won't find speculation to that effect in the Thai newspapers. Criticism of the king is off limits and the Thais prosecute lese majeste cases with a zealousness which even the king himself thinks is excessive.
But Oliver Jufer isn't the first tourist to fall foul of cultural nuances abroad. Sometimes it involves no more than making sure to take off your shoes when you enter an Asian home, or remembering to not give something to someone in the Arab world with your left hand.
However, there is behaviour which, while tolerated at home without a murmur, has landed the unwary tourist in jail abroad. Six years ago a group of tourists indulged themselves in the very British pastime of plane-spotting in Greece.
They hadn't reckoned on the paranoia of the Greeks, honed from centuries of conflict with neighbour Turkey. The 14 tourists were put in jail on espionage charges and only released after a trial which eventually ended in their acquittal. The British put it down to what they euphemistically called a "cultural misunderstanding".
Another "cultural misunderstanding", and security, were the reasons behind a similar fate which befell the Leitrim footballer Ciaran Murray. On his way back from playing a Connacht championship game against New York in 2003, Murray jokingly remarked to a customs official that he had a bomb in his bag, assuring the official, "It's only a little bomb".
Murray found to his cost that, post 9/11, the Americans have no sense of humour about security. He was arrested and faced a five-year sentence for filing a false report, but was eventually given a fine and community service order.
It isn't just security which can lead to a custodial sentence. Dubai has become a favoured destination of Irish travellers since the opening of Aer Lingus' first non-transatlantic long-haul route last year.
Dubai sells itself as an ultra-modern tourist destination, with the planet's only seven-star hotel and a man-made archipelago in the shape of all the countries of the world. It's becoming a magnet for honeymooning couples, but the United Arab Emirates remains a traditional Muslim country in many ways, as some tourists and hotel workers have found to their cost.
Last month an Australian hotel manager and Filipino receptionist were given a month in jail and fined after being caught kissing and hugging in public. Their defence, that they were unaware that kissing in public is punishable by law, was rejected by a court in Dubai.
And they got off lightly. An Indian couple caught in a similar clinch were given a year in jail.
Most people are aware that many things we take for granted in the West are prohibited in theMiddle East . Saudi Arabia outlaws all forms of alcohol and puts severe restrictions on women, while Egypt attracted worldwide condemnation for jailing 21 men it arrested in a gay nightclub.
Even without a custodial sentence, there are many countries with a reputation for officiousness which get up the noses of travellers. In Switzerland, famously, it is illegal to flush the toilet after 10pm if you live in an apartment. It's also illegal for a man to urinate standing up after 10pm, but how that is enforced remains a mystery.
The country, though, with the worst reputation for officiousness is Singapore. It, too, has something of a toilet fixation. A failure to flush the toilet can lead to a fine of $150 (?113).
The little city state achieved a certain notoriety when it banned chewing gum back in the 1990s. Singapore also bans spitting, and litterers are liable to have to don the modern equivalent of sack cloth and ashes. They wear a bib on which is written "I'm a litterer" while being filmed for the local news.
'When in Rome, do what the Romans do' is a favoured axiom of travellers, but in countries like Singapore that can be amended to, 'Don't do what the Singaporeans don't do'.
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