Voranai Vanijaka
Written by Writer on Sunday, October 26th, 2008
Voranai Vanijaka
Are you sick of it? Are you bored with it? Have you had enough? The saga of Sondhi versus Thaksin is like a never-ending soap opera, isn’t it? Not even a Channel 3 soap opera, mind you _ but Channel 7! Chimpanzees screeching and squealing mindless nonsense that causes nothing but a migraine and an upset tummy _ and I’m not just talking about the soap opera.
We want to reach for some paracetamol and a barf bag, but given what’s on the telly and in the paper each and every day, we would likely overdose on para, plus there aren’t enough trees left in Thailand to make barf bags for everyone in the Kingdom. So, what to do?
We know why Sondhi turned from a fan to a foe of Thaksin. We know how the situation has been manipulated and exaggerated by different parties and factions. We know that in the end _ whether the PPP retains power, Thaksin comes back to power, Abhisit takes over or Sondhi declares himself Field Marshall, VC, KCB, KCIE, Lord of Man and Beast, Ruler of Bangkok in general and Ratchdamnoen in particular _ for the rest of us, the people of Thailand, it will be back to the same old cow manure ever day: Potholes in the streets, poverty, censorship and corruption everywhere … well, you live here, you know, so I don’t need to ramble on.
Instead, allow me to present a story about goodness for goodness’ sake, which might make you want to go ”Aah …” on a fine Sunday afternoon and help you regain some faith in humanity.
It was Prathom 5 (that’s fifth grade) at the Holy Redeemer School (the one on Soi Ruam Rudee). We had an English teacher, whose name I don’t remember (sorry ma’am). Her class was right after afternoon break.
On the first day of school, she made a rule. That all of us should wash our faces before coming to class. She didn’t want to be staring at dirty, sweat-stained, pre-pubescent faces while teaching. And of course, washing our faces would have been physically and mentally refreshing, preparing us to absorb valuable knowledge. The penalty for not washing was a cane across the buttocks. Twice.
Let me tell you, there’s no pleasantry in a cane across the buttocks, once or twice.
The next day, I, of course, did not wash my face. I didn’t do my homework either, so washing the face seemed neither here nor there for me at the time. In fact, as far as I knew, only the girls washed their faces, them being the more sensible sort.
Class started. The teacher demanded all those who hadn’t washed their face to march to the front. I, of course, did not budge, nor did anyone else. But, you know what, a frail little boy sitting in the first row got up nonchalantly and strolled to the front confidently. He turned around to face the class and stood there with pride and resolution. He did not wash his face.
The whole room was hushed, in a communal, disbelieving silence. Courage and honesty, the meaning of humanity for a bunch of fifth graders suddenly became a mind-boggling paradox. We thought we had it all down pat _ lie, cheat and steal (just like the adults). What was this boy doing?
Then, I had an epiphany. It just hit me. I said to myself: I’m going to grow up and be just like him. Inspired, I got up with my head hung in shame and marched to the front of the classroom. A few others slowly followed, not all, not many; just a few.
Let me tell you again, there’s no pleasantry in a cane across the buttock. Not once, definitely not twice.
I later asked the boy why he didn’t wash his face. His reply was ”I didn’t know. I wasn’t here on the first day.”
Dear readers, there are defining moments in life that one will always remember, no matter how long ago they happened. Witnessing an act of courage and integrity. Feeling shameful of one’s own act of irresponsibility and deception _ and fixing it.
I wanted to grow up to be like that boy. I’m still trying. I just hope the Sondhis and Thaksins of the world will one day also want to grow up and be like him.
Bangkok Post
Sunday October 26, 2008
