Getting Scammed

I really don't want to write about this because it annoys me to even think about it, but it's a good lesson to all you greenhorns out there. Although it sounds like I'm setting you up for a tragic tale about Bryson and I being duped, that's not the case. But we might have been.

Kao Sahn Road, crossroads of the backpacking galaxy, is also a Mecca for swindlers. Backpackers, although many are better traveled than a wind-battered albatross, are always looking for the best deal possible, and thus are obvious targets. One of the biggest conspiracies is that of the tuk-tuk drivers. Tuk-tuks, if I haven't previously described them, are basically motorcycles with carts attached to carry a pair of passengers. They're not the safest method of transportation, but they're quick and cheap and they're everywhere. On Kao Sahn Road, they constantly batter passersby with deals: "Five baht each! I take you around for one hour!"

Since Bryson and I had to wait around yesterday for our Koh-Samui-destined nightbus, we decided to hail a tuk-tuk to take us to the Grand Palace. As usual, the guy pressed it upon us that he'd take us around for an hour, to the Grand Palace, to the Lucky Buddha, to the Golden Buddha, to the reclining Buddha, all for ten baht total. However, there was a catch, and he was frank. We'd have to be taken to an export establishment, one dealing in either suits or jewelry, and all we needed to do was hang out in there for fifteen minutes. We didn't need to buy anything, he claimed. But that way, he'd get free gas coupons.

This had happened to Bryson during his last trip, and although it had been a hassle, we didn't have a problem with a stroll through a store, just to help the guy out. We knew it was scammy. But it was only for fifteen minutes.

The guy insisted on taking us to the Lucky Buddha first. When we climbed out, he said we couldn't enter through the left; we had to go around the right and enter that way. A simple request, and so we obliged. Inside was a complicated altar fuzzy with incense smoke, and we took a photo or two with the Buddha.

Standing on the steps outside, I was accosted by a thirties-ish Asian traveler. "Peaceful in there, isn't it?" he said. We spoke for a while, and I discovered he was Canadian. Soon Bryson and the guy's friend Brad (I forget the Canadian guy's name) joined in the conversation. Brad, who looked exactly like a Brad, turned out to have attended high school in San Diego, and his mother still resided in La Mesa.

Soon the conversation swung course, and the Canadian guy asked if we were going to any of the export shops. We said we might, but just because our tuk-tuk driver requested so. However, this opened up a jumbo-sized can of worms. Turns out both Brad and Canada have been coming to Thailand for years, apparently buying jewelery from acclaimed Thai Exporters and reselling it at Ben Bridges for two hundred percent. They explained the law, which was that a foreigner could only purchase three pieces, totaling under 5,000 US, per year to avoid export taxes. But the profit from those three pieces paid for their Thai vacation, each year.

Bryson, master investor, was all about this, and I admit it sounded good. We wrote down the name of the jeweler they recommended, and handed it to our tuk-tuk driver after we had climbed back in.

We were there for an hour, perhaps, perusing the wares. It was as nice of a jeweler as you'd find in an American mall, basically, and had a government-run tourist agency adjoined. Supposedly there was this twenty percent deal limited time only going on, that was ending that day. But buying one piece entitled the buyer the become part of a club, and could purchase two more pieces later in the year, if they so desired. We were thisclose to buying a sapphire ring and matching pendant, one under each of our names, so we'd both be allowed to buy more that year, if things turned out to be legitimate. So close that we had filled out the paperwork, and had received our certificates of authenticity.

But right there at the desk, we chickened out. We weren't about to spend an obscene amount, only about three-twenty an item. It was mostly the exchange policy that switched on Bryson's radar: to exchange or to enact the 80% refund, we had to be there in person. Not exactly convenient.

I must say right now that my reservations don't stand with the jeweler. Thailand is indeed famous for their precious jewels and craftsmanship, and purchasing such items at a place adjoined by a government agency would probably be the way to go. In addition, when we verbalized our misgivings, the man who had been helping us nicely ripped up the papers we had filled out in front of us, and wrote, "20% off" on the business cards he gave us, to be used when we got back to Bangkok in October. There was no pressure at all.

However, our tuk-tuk driver was more than a little peeved. Although he had said we didn't need to buy anything, he seemed to go back on it when we caught up with him. Truly, he was waiting around the entire time, all for the American equivalent of a quarter. But we didn't want to deal with him, and so we handed him double his request, hopped out, and hailed a different tuk-tuk to take us back to Kao Sahn Road.

But the fishy thing, the thing we're still trying to figure out, was Brad and Mr. Canada. It was a little strange, a little too perfect, that we had to be brought to the lucky Buddha first, and we had to enter on a certain side, the opposite of where we met them, these two guys who were a little two enthusiastic about buying jewels from a certain exporter. Are we being paranoid? Who knows. But everything goes in Bangkok, and nothing is what it seems.

Scam #2

Before we left the jeweler, we had a nice little chat with a Thai former Texan from the government-run tourist agency. When he learned about the nightbus/ferry tickets to Koh Samui we had already bought for 300 baht, that were going to be executed in two hours, he went into this long-winded harangue about how the ferry alone costs 280, and not even the savviest local could get to Koh Samui for so cheap. He sat us down at his desk and practically begged us to exchange our tickets for different ones, 900 baht-ers for the government busses that were apparently much safer. On private nightbuses, they went through your stuff, he said.

That was the same thing the agent we'd bought our tickets from had said, which we though was a cipher of trustworthiness. However, Thai Texan did succeed in making us nervous that our tickets were going to be bogus.

But they weren't. Thai Texan was bogus. because here I am, typing from Koh Samui. We zip-tied our backpacks, unbreakable seals, and nothing was stolen. Except my trust! Sob, melodrama. It all makes my stomach hurt. It's nearly too much to handle.

Enough writing now. Goodnight to me, good morning to you.