The Famous Bangkok Tuk-Tuk Scam

The tuk-tuk is the ubiquitous Bangkok mode of transport, like a taxi, but you can negotiate the price with the driver before hopping in. The basic concept was adapted years ago from a three-wheeled Japanese delivery vehicle. It has handle bars rather than a steering wheel, and a motorcycle engine, the sound of which is responsible for its name. Behind the driver is sort of an open cart with a canopy and upholstered seat. Because of its small size, the tuk-tuk driver can navigate the murderous Bangkok traffic more easily than a conventional taxi. Tuk-tuks are all over Southeast Asia, and each country comes with its own particular variation. In Laos, for example, it's a cruder affair, basically a cart attached to a motorcycle.

As I was only using Bangkok as my gateway in and out of Laos and had not planned to spend much time there, I had not done my usual thorough research, so fell “victim” to one of the tourist scams I normally pride myself on avoiding. (I put “victim” in quotes as I escaped with my money and most of my dignity intact).



I set out one afternoon looking for Chinatown. Having gotten lost in an area of town that seemed to specialize in tires and used transmissions, and having not eaten since morning, I was beginning to get frustrated. Ah, what’s this? A friendly face to aid the distressed farang tourist. He asked where I was going and if I had a map. Why, yes I did! (I later learned that you should run for the hills if someone asks if you have a map, as that is a dead tip off of a scam to come.) I explained that I was looking for Chinatown and he examined my map with a look of concern. Yes, Chinatown is that way, but it’s closed until 6 PM (it was 4). This was rather puzzling to me, as Chinatown is a huge commercial district and I could not imagine it being closed. (Whenever they say something is “closed”, it’s another sure fire tip-off. Anywhere you actually want to go will somehow be “closed”). Instead, why don’t I take a tuk-tuk to the “lucky Buddha” and after that the driver will take me to Chinatown in time for it to “open”. This would only cost 40 baht “for everything” (about $1.50). And look, there happens to be a tuk-tuk driver right here! So, despite some initial misgivings, I got aboard and braved the Bangkok traffic as a helpless passenger.

As I had fixed my sites on a sumptuous Chinatown meal, I hoped this lucky Buddha business would be over quickly. I removed my shoes and as respectably as possible went up the temple steps to the Buddha. The caretaker struck up a conversation. He had a sister in Seattle. What a coincidence! I was encouraged to light some incense sticks and offer a prayer for good luck. Not being the superstitious type, I think I prayed to be delivered as soon as possible to a Chinese restaurant.

I thanked the caretaker (oddly there was no sales pressure of any kind from this guy, I didn’t even pay an admittance fee) and got back in the waiting tuk-tuk. “Now Chinatown”, I said. My driver demurred and muttered something about Chinatown still being closed, and that we should go to an “export shop” instead (“No buy. Just look!”). As we were already in the thick Bangkok traffic headed…somewhere, and I had trouble understanding him over the din of sound, I took this in before responding. “Export shop?”, he said, hopefully. “No. Chinatown”, I replied as firmly as possible. He appeared to be momentarily frustrated, then spat out a few sentences of which all I could understand was “gas coupon”, “export shop first”, and of course, “Chinatown closed.” I held my ground. He glumly drove me a few minutes longer and then stopped and distractedly pointed a block away. “Chinatown there”, he said without enthusiasm, “how much you pay?”. I gave him the promised 40 baht and walked toward the entrance to Bangkok’s bustling Chinatown district, (which was quite decidedly not closed) considering myself lucky that the cost of my little tourist adventure was a mere 40 baht and a long detour.



So here’s how it works: These drivers get commissions from local retailers - gem shops and tailors being the main businesses – for bringing in unsuspecting tourists, who are then heavily pressured into purchasing what are usually overpriced mediocre goods. A coupon for fuel for the tuk-tuk driver is another form the commission takes. We Westerners consider this a scam, due to the deception and sales pressure involved (in fact the closest experience to this I have had at home is being trapped by salesmen in an automobile showroom). However in much of Asia this is simply an effective and quite legitimate marketing method. The odd thing (as I found out when I tried to get back to my hotel later that day) is that these same tuk-tuk drivers who are involved in orchestrating these complex scams, can be utterly useless when asked to function as actual taxis drivers, which is what they are supposed to be. I showed my map to two different drivers who proceeded to either not comprehend it where I wanted to go, or worse, to get lost, at which one must decide whether to abandon ship and find another tuk-tuk driver!

Tomorrow: Onward to Laos