Bangkok, the capital of a democracy with more than 60 million people, is no stranger to protests. In the first half of this year, doctors rallied in the city against a new pay scheme, while activists marched down its streets to demand that small schools be saved from closure.

Just as common are the street vendors who spring up around protests and rallies. They emerge, like clockwork, to tempt the disaffected with anything from iced drinks and spicy noodles to Thai flags protesters can wear, wave or flash on their cheeks. Trailing rallies across political divides, they hawk ointment to the feeble and offer foot massages to the weary.

But the latest string of anti-government “white mask” protests has brought out their most inventive side yet.

Almost every Sunday, hundreds of people wearing stylized Guy Fawkes masks march downtown to condemn the excesses of former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra. The brother of current Thai Premier Yingluck Shinawatra lives overseas to evade a jail sentence, but is widely seen as controlling the government.

The original mask with its upturned moustache and goatee, which was popularized by the movie V For Vendetta, has been adopted as an anti-establishment icon in various parts of the world.

In Bangkok, though, it drew complaints. Some protesters found the mask too stifling to wear. Others could not see or talk properly through it. And still others did not want to look like any other protester in the crowd. They wanted ― in true Thai fashion ― to look original.

Enter the Bangkok street vendor, with the solution to just about any problem.

China Akaradech, for example, sells cardboard fans in the shape of Guy Fawkes masks for 29 baht ($0.94) to those wanting a little respite from the heat. With a polite smile, the 50-year-old also persuades protesters to pay another 29 baht for hand-sewn wristbands with the tricolor Thai flag.

A few steps away, Thanrawee Wongehada, 33, calls out to potential customers from behind her silver masquerade mask ― complete with a cheeky white feather.

“The white masks were too common,” she tells The Straits Times. “And the customers told me that they couldn’t breathe in them.”

It took her just a week to rustle up the masquerade masks after she heard such grouses ― a turnaround time that would make most brick-and-mortar retailers envious.

Nearby, other vendors mill around with canvas bags stuffed with their own distinctive offerings ― paper masks with rosy cheeks and pink lips common in traditional Chinese opera, and ghostly all-white masks which buyers can fill in with their own moustache and eyebrow designs.

“It’s a bit messy,” admits protester Cynthia Aiemsard, 53. “But it is also convenient if you don’t have a mask.”

The country’s street vendors are deft at sizing up and fulfilling market demand, contributing to the strength of its informal economy. According to Thailand’s National Statistical Office, some 60 per cent of workers were informally employed in 2011.

The large size of this sector keeps the labor market flexible and helps temper unemployment spikes in the event of a serious downturn. But it also has downsides: These workers do not benefit from labor laws or minimum wage increases, and usually do not have any form of social security ― a growing problem as Thai society ages.

That explains why street vendors look forward to political rallies. Protesters, with their passions stirred by such mass gatherings, are more inclined to spend some money, they say.

Benjarat Kaeoharpar-karn, 63, uses the Internet every day to stay updated on large rallies, where she can hawk her political paraphernalia. If the crowds run into the thousands, she can make up to 5,000 baht a day, she discloses. That is almost half the average monthly wage in the country.

The promise of making a killing may not always materialize but there is another reason why the vendors make a beeline for these rallies.

“It’s just more colorful!” says Thanrawee.

By Tan Hui Yee

(The Straits Times)