5. A Productive Archive: memories and the capacity to act in this world 5.1 Overview: a productive archive Memory is a means of dislodging fixed, closed readings of one’s present condition, a condition understood as the inevitable extension of a past filled with discontent. Memory also nourishes hope. Pignatelli (1998), Critical Ethnography/Poststructuralist Concerns, pp. 407 There are two things I live by after the 2011 flood. The first: we cannot depend on the government during a flood. We can only depend on ourselves, our families and on our community… And the second thing, we need to change the way we live. We have changed the rivers too much, a flood like 2011 will happen again. We need to prepare for the future by bringing the water back into our lives and our homes. Loong Pichit/ 52/ Shop owner/ Male/ April 2014 Natural hazards – as floods are often perceived to be – are often not ‘natural’ (Smith, 2006). As many works have shown empirically, vulnerability to, and the ability to recover from such events are often closely related to socio-economic factors and the accessibility of resources (see Cutter et al, 2003; Mustafa, 2008; Collins, 2010). Others further contend that vulnerabilities to environmental hazards are proxies of broader political and social marginalization (see Sultana, 2011). Indeed, I was constantly told that there was nothing ‘natural’ about the 2011 flood in Ayutthaya. The flood was a case of mismanagement on the part of the central and municipal governments. The participants, too, recognized that different groups within the community were unevenly affected by the flood. In the first section of this chapter, I will show how both the central and municipal governments have chosen to ‘forget’ these ‘unnatural’ aspects of the 2011 flood. This ‘forgetfulness’ is not to be understood literally; rather, it connotes an almost wilful neglect of the impacts of the 2011 flood on the people in public discourses and policies. I further expound on the resultant discontent – one of the definitive emotions produced in and through the active archive - of the people towards this forgetfulness and perceived inaction. 89 As the quote above by Pignatelli (1998) suggests, memory offers opportunities to move beyond this discontent, for it nourishes hopes and aspirations for the future – and this is exactly what the active archive of Ayutthaya does. Appadurai (2003: 19; see also Featherstone, 2006; Rao, 2009; Levy, 2010) asserts that the archive is a site of a deliberate social and political project through which people craft ‘possible worlds and imagined selves’. Social relations are not merely reflected but reconstituted through the archive. Hence, people living within the archive are not passive. Despite economic and/or social limitations, people are active subjects who intervene and participate in the (re)making of their worlds and futures (Appadurai, 2003; see also Jackson, 2002). The archive provides fodder upon which that world is remade. The repetitive mnemonic practices, encounters and engagements with objects of memory in the archive influence perceptions, knowledge, and actions (see Braun, 2008; Koppel & Hirst, 2010) related to future floods. Hence, the archive is not simply a documentation of the past, but a tool that is used productively for the future. With the focus still pegged on the everyday, I will discuss how varied memories of the 2011 flood are impetuses for the redevelopment of vernacular architecture and home-making rituals. Additionally, ethical projects of mutual aid and informal sharing networks are also established by the community of flood memories in response to the 2011 flood. These changing practices and routines often result in im/material changes to the lived landscape, thus, increasing Ayutthaya’s capacity to live with riverine rhythms. I will also draw attention to how certain memories of the 2011 flood are made normative through informal exhibitions, publications and storytelling. These memories-as-representations are put to work to affect specific behaviours during future floods. 90 5.2 A note on forgetfulness and its resultant discontent I'm impressed by the speed of sandbagging and the distribution of food and water [in Thailand], but you can't always solve problems with sandbags . It's shocking how people are unprepared for the flood. It's as if the phenomenon of flooding has been completely forgotten in Thailand. Adri Verwey (2011)30 I remember feeling angry after reading articles about how the Thai state responded to various floods in 2000, 2005, 2006 (Manuta et al, 2006; Lebel et al 2009; Lebel et al, 2011). I realized that the issues surrounding the lack of organization and transparency, and the short-term nature of aid raised by the writers were again repeated in the state’s handling of the 2011 flood in Ayutthaya. Notably, Manuta et al (2006) write that flood warnings were only issued a few hours before the waters reached Chiang Mai in 2005. Hence, there was simply no time for the people to prepare for the impending floods. Paa Samruay related a very similar experience many in Ayutthaya faced during the onset of the 2011 flood: The [local] government kept telling us we would not be flooded… They said the dams and floodwalls protecting the city were working well and the situation was ‘manageable’ 31 . We also heard Yingluck 32 on TV… She said, ‘we can manage the waters’ [shakes head, laughs]. They only told us Ayutthaya might be flooded about a few hours before the waters came. When it came, of course, no one was prepared. Paa Samruay/ 60/ Odd-job worker/ Female/ April 2014 Manuta et al (2006) further critique that in the aftermath of the 2005 floods, various developmental projects for housing, social welfare, and urban planning were largely divorced from the flood management programs in Thailand. Flood management and 30 Adri Verwey is an urban flood expert with Netherlands-based water management think-tank, Deltares. He was interviewed by the Integrated Regional Information Networks (IRIN) during the 2011 flood: http://www.preventionweb.net/english/professional/news/v.php?id=23942 31 The phrase ‘manageable’ – ao yu - was heard constantly as we talked with the participants. Since the disastrous response of the municipality and the central government towards the flood, the phrase has since entered day-to-day speech of many in Ayutthaya as a sarcastic jab. 32 A controversial and divisive figure, Yingluck Shinawatra, was elected as Prime Minister a few months before the Thai floods in 2011. 91 risk reduction schemes were deemed independent of developmental issues. This resulted in the lack of follow-up assistance apart from the relief assistance at the onset of the deluge, and meagre monetary compensations. People, especially those in remote areas, were left to ‘fend for themselves’ (Manuta, 2006:18; Lebel et al, 2011). The people in Ayutthaya city – hardly a remote area – also experienced this in 2011. As we spoke with paa Hom in Soi Si, her daughter-in-law and some neighbours were hanging around, and in unison, they expressed discontent with their memories of the ‘one-time’ compensation many of them received: paa Hom: My family got 5000 Baht (about SG$200 or US$150) for a one-time compensation… Can you believe it? That’s all, 5000 Baht! We can’t even fix the doors [laughs sardonically]. paa Jim: Most of the families here only got 5000 Baht. But those working in the municipality bought expensive cars after the flood 33 … [everyone laughs]. P’Toi: I think we were not surprised at how little we got. But I think they should have helped us more, especially the poorer and older people . The flood was the hardest on them. No one helped with clean up, no one tried to help us rebuild our homes. No one even offer any medication or any medical check ups. My friend died from a waterborne brain parasite and the doctors said it was likely from the flood… They don’t seem to care if we could live properly after the flood. Whether the family was rich or poor, most would just get 5000 Baht. Conversation at Soi Si/April 2014 Paa Hom/ 54/ Odd job worker/ Female Paa Jim/ 55/ Hawker/ Female P’Toi/ 35/ Factory worker/ Female (Emphasis my own) P’Toi understood the flood as one that had different impact on people of different social and economic groups and hence, certain groups required more help to cope with the event – this insight was largely ignored by state agencies. A participant, P’Ngoen, is a structural engineer working with the municipality. P’Ngoen believes that the municipality’s approach to floods is to ‘react to the event’ (he stressed strongly that his opinions are not representative of the municipality’s stance 33 We believe that they were hinting at corrupt practices at the municipal level. The issues of funds embezzlement and corruption, according to many participants, are open secrets in Ayutthaya. 92 on flood management). This reactionary form of mobilization results in the prevalence of and over-reliance on practices such as the building of temporary floodwalls with sandbags, concrete and mud to ‘keep the waters out’. With the internal budget and organizational problems, the municipality remains largely under prepared for another future floods - ‘they will probably the same if another flood comes’, P’Ngoen said. It is obvious that despite the multiple opportunities for the state to learn from these past floods (Lebel et al 2011), little has been done to improve the capacity of various social groups to cope with future events. Hence, at the governmental level, the memory of floods is surprisingly short-lived. As waters return to their pre-flood levels, interests in the rivers quickly subside (Pfister, 2009). This almost deliberate forgetfulness towards the seasonal rhythms of rivers is reflective of a deep-seated, ‘hazards-oriented’ view towards floods. Many leaders and government officials – including then-prime minister, Yingluck Shinawatra – argued that the 2011 flood was a ‘natural disaster’ to be ‘resisted’: The crisis we’re facing today is the most critical natural disaster that ever happened in Thai history. […] What we’re doing today is resisting the force of nature… We cannot resist all of it. Yingluck Shinawatra, Quoted in The New York Times (28 October 2011) The pervasiveness of this perspective is further reflected in the state’s narrow and simplistic emphasis on structural means to regulate water flows – despite the fact that this has been proven, time and again, to be grossly inadequate (Lebel et al, 2011; Ziegler et al 2012). The biggest issue with large-scale, technocentric flood protection structures is not only the false hopes and security they generate; they also transform regular events – seasonal floods – into rare ‘interruptions’ that few are prepared for (Colten & Sumpter, 2009). Since the 2011 flood, the Thai state has embarked on several ambitious flood mitigation projects and set aside a phenomenal 93 350 billion Baht (SG$14 billion or US$10.5 billion) for flood and river management (Bloomberg, November 2011; Bangkok Post, March 2013). Some have since argued that these large, highly visible and ostentatious projects are really opportunities for the state to gain political legitimacy and support (Interviews, April/May 2014; Reuters, 28 October 2011). However, many of these projects remain incomplete, and some were abandoned (Bangkok Post, 20 October 2014). With the recent political turmoil and military coup, flood concerns are again relegated to the perennial backburner. Likewise, in Ayutthaya, according to P’Ngoen and the spokesperson of the Historical Parks Office (HPO), the municipal government had dredged the canals around the city and drew up plans to build permanent floodwalls around the island after 2011. Several participants have heard of these plans – it was announced in the local papers and news channels in early 2012. However, these plans have never materialized, and the canal dredging – like the monetary compensations - was eventually phased out over time. The Department of Disaster Prevention and Mitigation (DDPM) had attempted to include the local communities into its mitigation strategies in Ayutthaya. Notably, there is the Mr. and Ms. Caution program, in which two or three people from each village would be appointed as ‘risk ambassadors’ to disseminate flood warnings and information to their respective villages. Trainings were also held, supposedly, to ‘educate’ the population on what to in the event of a flood (Thai Rath34, 22 August 2012). However, none of the participants, with the exception of the village head of Long Law35, have heard of these initiatives. Several participants asked their neighbours about these projects – they, too, have not heard of these projects. Thus, while the spirit of these projects may be commendable, their effects and reach are seemingly minimal. These unheard initiatives fuel the belief 34 Thai Rath is a daily Thai-language newspaper, for the article see http://www.thairath.co.th/content/285155 35 When we asked the village head about it, he told us that he has heard of the initiative from a friend working in the DDPM. There was, however, no representative from the DDPM to explain these programs to the people in all three villages. 94 that local authorities are largely inadequate and indifferent. There are also speculations that corruption and embezzlement plague these organizations. These perceptions, in addition to the memories of hardship during the 2011 flood – which many in Ayutthaya still blame the local government for – result in the development of a deep sense of distrust and discontentment towards the local authorities in the community of flood memories: The compensation system is corrupted and politicized… If you are a supporter of governor, you get more [sic]. That’s how it is. [Agitatedly] When my friend asked for more aid because he lost his job and his house, they said to him, ‘we have already paid you.’ We cannot trust such a government to help us when there is another flood in the future, right? That’s why we have to rely on ourselves. Loong Pichit/ 52/ Shop owner/ Male/ April 2014 I understand why the central government protected Bangkok. It was for the country’s survival. When they did that they assumed that the municipal governments could take care of their people. But Ayutthaya’s municipal government did not its job well. They said they could manage and then, they couldn’t. During the flood there was no news about what was happening. After the flood, they gave us 5000 Baht… I also know a neighbour who got 20,000 Baht but even that was not enough [sic]. Most of us got only 5000 Baht and they expect us to keep quiet, forget that the flood happened and go on living. [Laughs] I think this is what it means to be a lousy government. People in Long Law are tired of them. Paa Not/ 53/ Home maker/ Female/ May 2014 (Emphasis my own) Instead of ‘forget[ing] that the flood happened’, the people in Ayutthaya, as we have seen in Chapter Four, are resolutely holding on to their memories of the 2011 flood. Through various practices and interactions with more-than-human objects within the lived landscape, the flood remains greatly relevant and permeates the thick of life in Ayutthaya. Therefore, despite differences in the ways of remembering, the 2011 flood is an important part of many participants’ individual identities, and on a broader level, the collective identity of Ayutthaya. This creation of an active archive is the first form of an everyday intervention against the state’s and 95 municipal government’s apparent ‘forgetfulness’ (Appadurai, 2003). This, almost mundane, intervention does not stop at the perpetuation and practices of memories. Instead, these memories serve as important references for the future. Somewhat ironically, the memories of the ‘unnatural’ 2011 flood are encouraging people in Ayutthaya to actively incorporate riverine rhythms in their everyday lives, as they hope for a future in which floods will no longer be ‘problematic’. Rather than relying on the state to fulfil this hope for the future, the people are, in loong Pichit’s words, actively ‘bring[ing] the water back into [their] lives and homes’, and many are moving away from reactionary, short-term responses to future floods. 5.3 Memories and living with(in) the riverine landscape Knowing that I could live through the 2011 flood and that I could rebuild my life with almost nothing really give me strength [sic]. I think I can face another flood… Because remembering 2011 means I now know what to expect [Laughs]. Loong Sud / 57/ Hawker/ Male/ April 2014 Based on western socio-economic indicators, loong Sud is not economically well off. Earning about US$20 a day, he is, like most of the participants, one of the many ‘richer poor’ in Thailand’s middle-income economy (see Warr, 2011; Rigg et al, 2014). If we subscribe to the usual parameters of vulnerability studies, loong Sud he lives in a small wooden house about 30m from the banks of the Chao Phraya River, and like many participants, he has little political, economic or social ‘influence’ of any sort – would probably be classified as ‘highly vulnerable’ to the impacts of floods. He recognizes this vulnerability. Indeed, he had experienced this vulnerability when he lost his home, his shop and all his material possessions in 2011. Loong Sud – as a ‘poor’ person – was expected to adapt to the circumstances thrust upon him during the flood (see The Straits Times, 10 November 2014). Yet, by holding on to the memories of these circumstances and adaptations, these memories become a ‘source of strength, context and renewal’ for loong Sud (Massie & Reed, 2013: 183). 96 Besides being a source of emotional strength, the everyday memories of the flood also allow loong Sud to ‘know what to expect’. In turn, these memories increase his capacity to live with rivers and within the riverine landscape. By choosing to stay – or rather, by having no choice but to stay – and face the inundation, loong Sud and many in Ayutthaya accumulated knowledge and experience about an ‘inconvenient event’ that is a part of the rivers’, albeit human-induced, rhythms. Thus, flood memories are not merely tied to vulnerability, but also closely associated with future resilience. 97 5.3.1 Redeveloping vernacular architecture and home-making rituals Figure 5.1: Buildings undergoing reconstruction in Ayutthaya – most houses were adding a ‘softy layer’ at the bottom; or second storeys are added to single-storey houses (top right). As we walked around Ayutthaya, I noticed that many buildings, mostly homes and temples, were in the midst of reconstruction (Figure 5.1). These structures are vernacular dwellings – designed and built by their inhabitants with locally available resources and technologies (Asquith & Vellinga, 2006). Buildings are never simply blank ‘coherent, individual edifices’ (Kraftl, 2010: 405). They are often caught up in the constant materialization and reconfiguration of ideas and values; and the practices within and physical alterations of buildings are integral to the unfolding of the landscape. Likewise, memories are present not only in monuments and places built for recall, but often bounded up with structures encountered and experienced in our daily lives; usually ‘unlooked for and uncelebrated’ (McEwen et al, 2014: 334; Lydon, 2009). A structure may provoke memories, yet, simultaneously, the alterations and uses of the structure embody and articulate memories (Treib, 2009). Traces of the 2011 flood are present in various vernacular buildings around Ayutthaya. In addition to the flood lines and present/absent objects we have seen in 98 breakers for the first and second level of the house. Switches were also moved above the 2011 flood level (Figure 5.4). Paa Samruay also installed a small toilet at the second storey of her home – this is uncommon for Thai homes – as many participants did (Figure 5.4b). Despite their limited resources, many participants make small-scale, accumulative and easily overlooked modifications to their homes in order to live ‘comfortably and conveniently’ with floodwaters in the future. Un/knowingly, flood memories – be they material presence such as the flood marks or a less tangible sense of anxiety - are pertinent tools and resources utilized day-today by the people in Ayutthaya in anticipation of, and to live with, the rhythms of the river. The modifications and reconstructions of homes motived by memories have ‘foster[ed] an affective state of hope’ (Kraftl, 2010: 408) for the future. Paa Samruay, like many respondents, is more confident of her family’s capacity to live with future inundations. Yet, this sense of hope is also not overly lofty or romanticized. Paa Samruay recognized that she might not anticipate events outside her memories of the previous flood (Massie & Reed, 2013), and the possible need to ‘learn again’. 102 Figure 5.4 (a, left): Switches were moved above or around the 2011 flood level after the flood; (b, right): I was asked to photograph the toilet bowl on the second storey of paa Samruay’s house. The toilet bowl was installed after the 2011 flood and is only be used in case of another flood. Since the turn towards the more-than-representational, geographers have been paying attention to how activities and embodied practices continuously reshape built environments (Kraftl, 2010). Any attempts to understand the biography of a building cannot be separated from the ways it is used, and from its ‘unfolding of relations’ with the people within and with the rhythms of the environment (Ingold, 1993: 169; Knowles, 2006; Kraftl, 2010). Embedded within these relations are often small adaptive attempts to live with the dynamism of the environment. Observing home-making rituals in Ayutthaya has allowed me to understand these relations. As Knowles (2006: 18) writes, the rituals enacted within buildings – and by extension, the lived landscape – are ‘imaginative recreation[s] of the rhythms we feel in a place’. Home-making rituals in Ayutthaya encompass riverine rhythms and the memories of the 2011 flood. Many participants mentioned that they have developed the habit of 103 moving their belongings and activities to the second storey of their homes during the onset of the wet season in late August (Figure 5.5): It’s quite empty here [the first storey of her home] because I didn’t replace the ruined furniture after 2011. We only bought a new TV and entertainment system and now we sit on cushions on the floor [laughs]… After 2011 we developed this yearly habit of moving our expensive and non-waterproofed things like the TV upstairs when the wet season starts. It was a bit troublesome, but we got used to it [laughs]. P’Watra/ 33/ hawker/ Female/ April 2014 We think it will flood again so we bought the cheapest TV and furniture after the flood. If it floods again, we would lose very little [laughs]. We have been putting our TV and DVD player in our room up on the second storey during the rainy months since that flood. Our bedroom becomes the family room… It is as though we live on the second storey during the rainy months [laughs]. P’Toi/ 35/ Factory worker/ Female/ April 2014 Figure 5.5: The interior of P’Toi’s home – the living room is bare except for a chair and a television set. Note the wooden planks above the concrete beams in the foreground, like paa Samruay, P’Toi and her family are also slowly reconstructing the second storey of their home (see Appendix for more home modifications in Ayutthaya). These temporary ritualistic migrations of activities, objects and people within the home animate the perceived rhythms of the environment, notably, that of the wet 104 season and the fluctuating river. Thus, the home is constantly transformed by the riverine rhythm and memories of the 2011 as spaces are filled and lived in at times, and emptied at another. These movements and passages are eventually ‘gotten used to’ – this signals the how the riverine rhythms and memories have steeped into the intimate and repetitive routines of many in Ayutthaya and the spaces they occupy. With this, the capacity to live with floods again increases – especially for those who not experience yearly floods - as the fluctuations of the rivers will be less of a surprise. 5.3.2 Informal networks within the lived landscape Lebel et al (2009) argue that studies on flood governance need to address the question of agency. Thus, in response to Lebel et al’s (2009) comment, I pose the following question: how does the coming together of actors influence and improve adaptive capacities for the future? The active archive, again, lies at the heart of the answer to this question. The memories within the active archive are closely tied to a sense of helplessness and anger. Responding to these affective memories, and to the perceived lack of interest from the local government, there is a flowering of informal, small-scale resource sharing networks. These networks ‘cut across administrative and bureaucratic boundaries’ (Lebel et al, 2009: 56) and at times, they bypass such institutions all together. Many remember the 2011 flood as a logistical nightmare – the municipal government was unable to ensure proper distribution of food, water and medical supplies to the people in Ayutthaya. According to several participants, possessing cash and assets ‘meant very little’ during and immediately after the flood. Instead, having social connections was the key to access resources on the island. As part of the practice of ‘self reliance’ since 2011, many have formed informal pockets of networks - often with their neighbours and/or temples - to share basic resources like shelter, food and water during future floods: 105 I am not waiting till another flood comes to think about where to go! If the flood is too high, and my husband and I can’t live at home any more, I have arranged to go stay with my friend. She’s just down the street, a house on pillars… We have a portable stove and a boat, which we will bring over to share with her. She’s a good friend, a very reliable person. I think it’s important to have people you trust around with you during such times. Paa Not/ 53/ Home maker/ Female/ May 2014 Some people have already come to tell me they would like to stay here [the temple he works at, Wat Mongkhon Bophit] during the next flood. That’s good because it is easier for us to get food and water when there are more people! I think the next time people will not fight over food again… We learnt from 2011 that it is important to have a safe place to live. P’Thakorn/ 38/ Temple caretaker/ Male/ April 2014 The sharing network extends beyond the basic shelter, food and water. In response to the misleading and conflicting information from the municipality in 2011, some participants have also developed an annual wet-season river monitoring routine with their neighbours through which information about the river is shared. Furthermore, as we walked around Ayutthaya, many highlighted the importance of being mobile during the flood. With that, we were often shown small rafts and rowboats (Figure 5.6). These boats are objects enmeshed in broader sharing networks motivated by the memories of 2011 and riverine rhythms: When I was surrounded by water, I realized how much I took for granted my ability to go anywhere I want by walking or driving [smiles, looks at the boat]. It was difficult to move around Ayutthaya and things. And during the flood, the boats were really expensive. The prices came down after the flood but I know they are still too expensive for some of my neighbours. So I bought three boats for all of us to share in the future. I know they will help me in other ways. My neighbours are mostly good people. Elsewhere on the island, I am not so sure [laughs]. Paa Sao/ 52/ Souvenir vendor/ Female/ April 2014 106 Figure 5.6: I was constantly asked to photograph rowboats during the walks. Many remembered the feeling of being rendered immobile during the 2011. Having access to rowboats or small motor-operated boats meant mobility and the ability to ‘do things’, in other words, to go about with one’s daily life. The sharing of boats, in turn, becomes the sharing of mobility. With the sharing of boats, portable stoves, homes and wooden planks, a new and distinctly social form of ‘hybrid property’ seems to be emerging in Ayutthaya during and after the flood (see Amin & Thrift, 2005: 233). These shared properties result in considerable social benefits - through such practices and networks of sharing, the capacity to live with(in) the riverine landscape becomes a more egalitarian possibility for the future. Thus, by tapping on the memory of what was lacking in the previous flood, the people in Ayutthaya are using this archive of flood memories to ‘organize societal responses that suit the local contexts’ (Massie & Reed, 2013: 156). As I learn about these inspiring sharing networks and practices to improve adaptive capacities to future floods, I am reminded of Springer et al’s (2012: 1594) assertion that the ‘dismantling of unequal power relations’ is a ‘philosophy of everyday life’ that manifests through ‘practices of voluntary cooperation, reciprocal altruism and mutual aid’. Such practices are effectively forms of self-management of 107 everyday life, which decentralize the hope and capacity to live with(in) the riverine landscape. This process of decentralization in Ayutthaya is interestingly compounded by a local politician who is in a position of considerable political influence and wealth. khun Gonggun was a key figure in organizing an island-wide supply-sharing network during the 2011 flood. The network brought together various actors, including large corporations, religious and volunteer groups during the 2011 flood. The network remains intact today, and springs into motion during the wet season in preparation for possible floods. Springer et al (2012) further suggest that the unfolding of more heterarchical present and future is one that is not determined by the dictates of a single person. Instead, it is through constant dialogue and innovations by and among various (more-than)human actors, spatialities, and temporalities that such a world can continuously come into being. Khun Gonggun echoes this sentiment: I believe everyone’s opinions and experiences matter. During the 2011 flood, I was given some credit37 for organizing the distribution of food and supplies and for offering people shelter. But that credit is not mine. I just happen to have a space for people to that in my hotel. The whole initiative would not be possible without those people who came to share with us what was happening in the city, people who volunteered to distribute food and check on stranded people on their own boats, people who cooked, and the big companies like Yakult and Dutch Dairies which came to us to donate supplies… It was a very wide web where everyone was doing something and I am just a small part of it. In a way, the 2011 flood was a good thing… These connections and memories we share from 2011 continue today, and because of that, we are prepared for the future if it floods again. Khun Gonggun/ 51/ Real estate developer/ Male/ May 2014 (Emphasis my own) The community of flood memories, in this case, is further enlivened with practices of mutual aid at different scales. Embedded in P’Mandee’s and paa Samruay’s stories on architectural adaptations are also stories of mutual aid – the sharing of a ‘flood home’ and the gifting of wooden planks. These sharing networks 37 Khun Gonggun’s hotel was hailed as the unofficial flood command center in 2011. Books and newspaper editorials constantly praised khun Gongggun’s philanthropic spirit. However, he told us that he never really thought of his actions as philanthropy, but as something he should be doing for Ayutthaya, his home. 108 are impossible to enact without the material ‘coming together of things’ (Braun, 2008: 671) – boats, wooden planks, portable stoves and homes on stilts – and the memories of 2011. Paying attention to these networks, or the horizontal plane upon which parts of life in Ayutthaya unfolds, allows us to understand how the capacity to act is not necessarily only tied to or limited by top-down political and/or economic power. Rather, in their everyday lives, the people of Ayutthaya enact forms of response – not resistance – to what they perceive and experience as unjust circumstances. 5.4 ‘A Beautiful Flood’: reconsidering memories-as-representations It is not my intention to romanticize the capacity to act and respond, or in Cresswell’s (2012: 101) words, to ‘level agency too much.’ Lopsided power relations exist, and there is a need to be sensitive to the power geometries which are ‘vital to any individuals’ capacity to affect and be affected’ (Tolia-Kelly, 2006: 213; also see Popke, 2009). Likewise, the strategies of self-help and mutual aid enacted in Ayutthaya are located within broader power geometries. These strategies are, in the first place, enacted in response to what is perceived as indifference by those in power. Some of these strategies are further limited due to the abuse of power by certain municipal actors for individual gain, and have to be re-negotiated: When I was building my new home, two men from the Historical Park Office kept dropping by to check on the progress. They told me [agitatedly] I was breaking the law because my house is too near the historical park [laughs sardonically]38. I paid them off a little but I really didn’t want to give in. To make sure they don’t come back, I obtained the building guidelines and altered my design. That was an unpleasant memory. There will always be people trying to gain from a bad situation… Especially those who have a little bit of power [sic]. Loong Pichit/ 52/ Shop owner/ Male/ April 2014 38 Loong Pichit later explained that the Historical Park officials were concerned that his home was more than 16 meters high, and this violated the city code for houses near the historical parks. 109 My mother told me we should just pay those people [from the HPO] who asked us for money when we were building [our home]. And I said, “No. We are not doing anything wrong.” But we did pay them some money in the end [laughs]. Just to make them go away. P’Watra/ 33/ hawker/ Female/ April 2014 Power does not radiate only from a single locus; it is often spread out in geometries. Thus, at times, the power geometries that limit such strategies are less defined. Conflicts also happen among smaller collectives of people within the community of flood memories. Many participants told stories of the hoarding of food supplies by local grassroots leaders tasked to distribute them, and the inconsiderate building of walls to keep water out from one’s property, inevitably at the expense of someone else’s homes. Paradoxically, the power geometries are not only limitations. They also shape, enable and perpetuate practices of mutual aid and the capacity to live with rivers and floods. There is a ‘strategic deployment of representations’ (Popke, 2009: 88; also see Gibson-Graham, 2008) with the aim of bringing a collective ethics of care and aid into being in Ayutthaya. Representations, rather than having a ‘deadening effect’ (Lorimer, 2005: 84-85; Cadman, 2009: 456), work instead with practices and performances of and in everyday life (Couch, 2010; Cresswell, 2012). In this case, they are not simply manifestations of a pre-existing symbolic world. As ‘things and events’, representations ‘enact worlds’ and possess an ‘expressive power’ to actively intervene and participate in the unfoldings and ongoings of everyday life (B. Anderson & Harrison, 2010: 14; also see Ingold, 2006). While the municipality and central government choose to forget the deluge of 2011, other knowledgeproducing institutions and actors such as the Ayutthaya Hospital, journalists, temple caretakers and souvenir vendors encourage the emergence of a specific representation of the 2011 flood in Ayutthaya. Portraying the flood response as the ‘goodness of the human spirit’ exemplified, mundane acts of altruism are being promoted through exhibitions, photographs, and oral narratives (Figure 5.7). This 110 representation of the past flood comes with the underlying intention of making such actions normative for the future: Khun Wankert: We felt that there was beauty in the hardship. There were spontaneous instances of kindness, community-spirit and selfsacrifice by the people that was really beautiful; and thus, important to remember. So the exhibition was eventually called ‘A Beautiful Flood’. P’Taa: Yes, yes. During that time, everyone was affected but people came to help one another. What khun Wankert mentioned are the values and actions we hope to promote in this exhibition. And during the next flood, hopefully, people would remember these aspects of 2011 and act accordingly. A conversation in Ayutthaya Hospital, April 2014 Khun Wankert/ 45/ Deputy Director / Female P’Taa/ 30/ Public relations manager/ Female I saw many different sides of the flood. There was selfishness and some very negative behaviors . But I also saw the good side of things like the kindness of many… And many cases when people put others before themselves and tried to help even though they were also suffering [sic]. This book is a compilation of all the goodness that came out of the flood. I hope that by keeping this part of the memory alive, such actions would be emulated and become the norm, and Ayutthaya would be civicminded and kind during the next flood. P’Samlit/ 46/Journalist/ Male/ April 2014 This specific representation of the flood is partly the product of living performances and behaviours enacted during the 2011 flood. It is also notable that the representatives of the hospital and P’Samlit speak of ‘actions’ alongside ‘values’ as they talked about the representation of the flood. Therefore, simultaneously, through its consumption, this representation has affect and can potentially move and ‘naturalize’ particular practices in the present and the future. 111 Figure 5.7: Memory-as-representations of the 2011 flood around Ayutthaya from books to homemade signboards to official exhibitions. Interestingly, there are representations of the flood in temples as well – next to the huge gilded Buddha in Wat Mongkhon Bophit is an image of the temple during the flood. The caretaker of the temple told us that it was placed there to ‘encourage conversations’ about the flood, so that it would not be forgotten. As Tolia-Kelly (2006) argues, affective capacities and collectives are often shaped partly by visual registers. Thus, notably and quite understandably, images – photographs, postcards and picture books - of the flood are the key representational objects in Ayutthaya. These images produced and disseminated by the aforementioned institutions and actors unwittingly conform to an overarching motif of a ‘beautiful flood’. The photographs in the hospital’s exhibition were sourced from and submitted by members of the public, making it a semi-participatory event. The two-month long exhibition in 2012 was well-received. It was eventually ‘borrowed’ by the Ministry of Health as a travelling display at other hospitals in the province. Some participants have seen the exhibition, and a few offered reflections on how such representations of the flood moved them emotionally and motivated present practices: I felt very proud of the island when I saw the pictures [smiles]. The pictures showed us the correct way to behave during a flood next time [pauses]… Or during any kind of situations, even in our normal lives [sic]. The pictures are good examples of what Ayutthaya should strive towards. 112 Paa Not/ 53/ Home maker/ Female/ May 2014 (emphasis my own) Serene/P’Chon: What you think of [the ‘beautiful flood’ exhibition]? P’Toi: [Laugh] I think it was an accurate presentation of 2011. It was really what people did during the flood. I experienced it myself… I know that there were bad people who stole. But most people in Ayuthaya showed that they are good people. And the exhibition presented that. My mother-in-law told you about how I fell from the boat when I was months pregnant, right? I was hugging a tree, crying… And feeling very cold and scared [pauses] and I was thinking, over and over, “My baby is going to die.” [P’Chon and Serene express their shock over the incident] P’Toi: Luckily, a family was leaving the area on a small boat, and the water was rushing around very quickly [sic]. It was dangerous for them but they still helped me. And I saw this spirit in the exhibition [pauses, smiles]. It was very moving. The flood was really beautiful this way. Serene/P’Chon: Do you think Ayutthaya will be beautiful again next time it floods? P’Toi: Aww [laughs]! Yes, I think we are working towards being beautiful everyday [laughs]. A lot of my neighbours saw the exhibition. We talked about it and some of us, since 2012, have been doing what the people in the photographs did [sic]. When it was supposed to flood in 2013, we came together to prepare to share our homes, supplies and food. One of the families had two boats so we were all going to sharing them [sic]. But the 2013 flood was not comparable to 2011 at all [laughs]. It was more like a practice for the future [laughs]. P’Toi/ 35/ Factory worker/ Female/ April 2014 Based on P’Toi’s comments, it is obvious that there is nothing static about visual representations. In fact, they are often experienced and engaged with in a manner that is more-than-visual. In addition to involving a host of materialities – from photographs, exhibition spaces to viewing bodies - the exhibition also generated fluxes. Personal memories and emotions were recalled and shared during and following the viewing of the exhibition. The exhibition further spurs annual, almost routinized, collective actions, which are not limited to flood events. According to P’Toi, they have been ‘doing what the people in the photographs did’. In this case, as Anderson and Harrison (2010: 11) writes, thoughts and meanings are ‘placed in action’ and ‘action is placed in the world’. Thus, in many ways, people’s encounters 113 and experiences of ‘A Beautiful Flood’ are affectively bounded up with many present practices of sharing and mutual aid in anticipation for the future. There is also a more-than-human aspect to the representations of a ‘beautiful flood’. Many of the acts of kindness and aid portrayed by images in the exhibition, in the book and souvenir shops extend beyond human actors. The plights and agencies of animals – especially stray dogs and cats – were also highlighted in various images (Figure 5.8). P’Samlit explained his intention of including such images in the picture book he published: You have been in Ayutthaya for a while, I’m sure you realized that the island is home to a lot of stray dogs, yes39? [P’Chon and Serene agrees] Animals were also affected by the flood, not just humans [sic]. I remember seeing this 80 year-old grandma going around on a boat by herself, feeding stray dogs. It was really touching. And sometimes, animals saved people. A family was alerted to a huge snake in their house because their cats were acting strangely [laughs]. That’s why there are animals in my book [sic]. We should pay attention to animals during a flood because they may help us. P’Samlit/ 46/Journalist/ Male/ April 2014 P’Samlit and many participants recognize that the world – the lived landscape of Ayutthaya – is a space that is not unilaterally defined by activities and practices of humans. Instead, as Greenhough (2010: 46) asserts, the landscapes ‘becomes liveable, and is made liveable’ through interactions with more-than-human actors. Hence, the memories as representations of a ‘beautiful flood’ de-centre the human subject; they alert viewers to the multiple ways more-than-human actors were affected by the flood and had affected one’s experience of it. These representations, again, affect and work together with practice and influence behaviour. P’Watra, for example, motivated by a news editorial about the rescue of stray animals during the 39 Ayutthaya is known for the packs of stray dogs, they laze around the streets, alleys, historical ruins and temples (i.e. almost everywhere on the island). P’Chon and I were chased by a pack of them while walking around Long Law, that was an experience to remember! 114 2011 flood40 and by her personal loss, has started volunteering at a temple which feed and care for stray dogs. She intends to continue with this work during a future flood event. Hence, these memories-as-representations have the potential to influence behaviours, and they are pertinent in expanding the ‘ethical and horizons of possibility’ (Popke 2009: 86) – to include more-than-human actors - for the future. Figure 5.8: The plight and agency of animals during the 2011 flood depicted in P’Samlit’s book. 40 P’Samlit’s media company published the news editorial – ‘A Year After’ – in 2012. Unfortunately, we were unable to get copies of the editorial (P’ Samlit had wanted to get us copies but was unable to retrieve it from his archive for undisclosed reasons). 115 5.5. The future The 2011 flood is an event with no end – it did not end as the waters receded, it did not end as the mud was scrubbed off the walls or with the replacement of ruined furniture. The flood has intensities and effects that resonate and reverberate in the past and in the future. To (mis)appropriate Mitch Rose (2010: 354), ‘within every waiting is a forgetting’. The people of Ayutthaya not forget the 2011 flood as they are not waiting – they are not waiting for flood initiatives from the local and central governments. Furthermore, they are also not waiting for the next big flood; instead, they are anticipating the fluxes in the riverine rhythms. This anticipation productively results in the alterations of vernacular architecture, home and community rituals and the development of informal ‘flood networks’. In this case, the continuous ebb and flows of activities within the active archive intersect and interact with a particular notion of egalitarian politics, and an ethics of mutual aid and care. With these interactions, without the forgetting that comes with waiting, and as memories are enfolded in the actions of the present, the capacities of most people to live with riverine rhythms in Ayutthaya have increased significantly. Rose (2010) further encourages geographers to consider the question of time and notably, that of the future. During our walks, many participants too, constantly reflected on their futures of living with(in) a riverine landscape: It may flood ten years later or it may flood this year. Waiting and complaining about it is not helpful, we have to something. We have to be realistic and face all the possibilities that the future may bring. The things that the Ayutthaya people are doing now are our ways of preparing for that flood which will happen in the unknowable future [sic]. We that by living with the rivers in the present. Paa Paket/ 54/ Home-maker/ Female/ April 2014 (Emphasis my own) We don’t know the future, right [laughs]? And like the future, we don’t have the power to predict or control what the rivers or the rain, or 116 even what the government would [sic]. We are doing all we can now to be more prepared for floods. But there may be a flood bigger than 2011, then we have to adapt again and make the best with what we have [sic]. Whatever happens, we will deal with it because Ayutthaya is our home. Ajarn Ratana/ 52/ University lecturer/ Female/ May 2014 (Emphasis my own) There is a sense of what I think is hopeful stoicism in their reflections and actions towards the future – while most participants, with the help of other actors, are actively enacting strategies for the future, they recognize the infinite possibilities of the future (M. Rose, 2010). They recognize that the unfolding of the future is itself an unruly process, dependent on multiple actors. Understandably, there is ‘limited force with which plans and programs could be put into practice’ (Hinchliffe, 2010: 308). While it is easy to misunderstand this perspective as nihilistic, the people in Ayutthaya, however, are simply acknowledging the limits to their capacities to act in the world. They recognize that their capacities to act with(in) the world in becoming is relational to the actions of others. By acknowledging this limit, while the people of Ayutthaya are hopeful towards their futures of ‘living normally’ with riverine rhythms, they are too, ‘stoical[ly] facing all that the future gives’ (M. Rose, 2010: 353). 117 [...]... extension, the lived landscape – are ‘imaginative recreation[s] of the rhythms we feel in a place’ Home-making rituals in Ayutthaya encompass riverine rhythms and the memories of the 2011 flood Many participants mentioned that they have developed the habit of 103 moving their belongings and activities to the second storey of their homes during the onset of the wet season in late August (Figure 5. 5): It’s... because their cats were acting strangely [laughs] That’s why there are animals in my book [sic] We should pay attention to animals during a flood because they may help us P’Samlit/ 46/Journalist/ Male/ April 2014 P’Samlit and many participants recognize that the world – the lived landscape of Ayutthaya – is a space that is not unilaterally defined by activities and practices of humans Instead, as Greenhough... within the active archive intersect and interact with a particular notion of egalitarian politics, and an ethics of mutual aid and care With these interactions, without the forgetting that comes with waiting, and as memories are enfolded in the actions of the present, the capacities of most people to live with riverine rhythms in Ayutthaya have increased significantly Rose (2010) further encourages... based on the maximum height of the 2011 floodwaters; and the generator is to be placed at a certain spot to ensure that flood- induced blackouts would not happen again By responding to and materializing flood memories in built forms, many participants are anticipating the possibility of future floods Using the memories of 2011, they are actively working towards a future in which they can ‘live normally’... signals the how the riverine rhythms and memories have steeped into the intimate and repetitive routines of many in Ayutthaya and the spaces they occupy With this, the capacity to live with floods again increases – especially for those who do not experience yearly floods - as the fluctuations of the rivers will be less of a surprise 5. 3.2 Informal networks within the lived landscape Lebel et al (2009) argue... end as the waters receded, it did not end as the mud was scrubbed off the walls or with the replacement of ruined furniture The flood has intensities and effects that resonate and reverberate in the past and in the future To (mis)appropriate Mitch Rose (2010: 354 ), ‘within every waiting is a forgetting’ The people of Ayutthaya do not forget the 2011 flood as they are not waiting – they are not waiting... for flood initiatives from the local and central governments Furthermore, they are also not waiting for the next big flood; instead, they are anticipating the fluxes in the riverine rhythms This anticipation productively results in the alterations of vernacular architecture, home and community rituals and the development of informal flood networks’ In this case, the continuous ebb and flows of activities... result in considerable social benefits - through such practices and networks of sharing, the capacity to live with (in) the riverine landscape becomes a more egalitarian possibility for the future Thus, by tapping on the memory of what was lacking in the previous flood, the people in Ayutthaya are using this archive of flood memories to ‘organize societal responses that suit the local contexts’ (Massie... was doing something and I am just a small part of it In a way, the 2011 flood was a good thing… These connections and memories we share from 2011 continue today, and because of that, we are prepared for the future if it floods again Khun Gonggun/ 51 / Real estate developer/ Male/ May 2014 (Emphasis my own) The community of flood memories, in this case, is further enlivened with practices of mutual aid... also a more-than-human aspect to the representations of a ‘beautiful flood Many of the acts of kindness and aid portrayed by images in the exhibition, in the book and souvenir shops extend beyond human actors The plights and agencies of animals – especially stray dogs and cats – were also highlighted in various images (Figure 5. 8) P’Samlit explained his intention of including such images in the picture . constantly told that there was nothing ‘natural’ about the 2011 flood in Ayutthaya. The flood was a case of mismanagement on the part of the central and municipal governments. The participants, too,. 2010: 4 05) . They are often caught up in the constant materialization and reconfiguration of ideas and values; and the practices within and physical alterations of buildings are integral to the. the riverine rhythms and memories have steeped into the intimate and repetitive routines of many in Ayutthaya and the spaces they occupy. With this, the capacity to live with floods again increases