Remembering the Asian Economic Crisis: 10 Years On

Today represents a particularly bitter day in the memory of most Thais. I remember when the Thai Baht devalued from 24 to 58 Baht to the US Dollar. Where were you when the crash happened?

I was 14 years old and I still try to block out the memory of that day. It was the first time I ever saw my father completely helpless, as he liquidated our property in India and Bangkok to pay off creditors, who in turn needed to pay their creditors. It was the first time I saw my mother cry because she did not know how to help my dad. He was on the verge of folding a family business that had lasted 4 generations and survived exile from Burma. He had decided he was a failure.

I still feel that heavy weight of doom in my chest when I think back to those days. The number of students in my school reduced to half as expat families returned home or those who could no longer afford it pulled their kids out, meanwhile the fees doubled. The malls became deserted as no one had any spending power. No more traffic on the roads. Bangkok had become a ghost town as construction on the skyscrapers stopped, leaving only empty skeletons and inactivity. It seemed hopeless at the time, there was only pessimism, how would we ever manage to get ourselves out of this mess?

In the papers, every day, there were stories about IMF bail-out packages and constitutional reform. I was 14 when I decided international development would be my career, I had lofty ideas about sustainable development, self-sufficiency and reducing dependency on trade. I was going to be part of the solution, I thought. And now, when I lose inspiration and am deluded by the non-profit industry, I think back ten years and try to connect myself to that same sense of urgency I had back then of needing to fix things.

Things eventually got better though. Mind you, things got worse before they got better, things got really bad. When there is a financial crisis, it's more than just a monetary loss, it literally clenches your gut and forces you to redefine who you fundamentally are and who you want to be. There were important lessons throughout. We learned that, at the end of the day, there's nothing quite like family. When things got tough, we were each other's ultimate encouragement and support. We learned the art of being in charge of your own destiny, we adopted the mantra "keep going, keep moving, don't look back". We learned that shit happens, but it's how you deal with it that counts. We learned that out of tragedy comes innovation. We learned that sacrifice and hard work never go unrewarded.

I acknowledge that I am sufficiently scarred for life, I am incredibly nervous with finances (hence, my chosen career in NGOs) and I am forever bracing myself for imminent bankruptcy and the drama that follows. Yet, our small and humble victories feel to us as if we've moved mountains. I think this anniversary is primarily one of celebration for my family. My dad and I raised a toast to 2 July 1997 after watching the BBC report this evening on the anniversary. We raised our glasses of filtered water because today, we are better, stronger, tougher than we were 10 years ago.

But, this occassion is also one of caution for the country as I nervously observe that no one has learned the lessons of '97. I think it is important to remember what happened and why it happened as everyone else seems to have forgotten. Is this my nervous Thai psyche talking?