In the early hours of the morning, I fiddled with my BlackBerry. Feeling edgy, restless. Seems my thoughts rushed between dark voids of memories, with little will-power to guide me through these sleepless moments.
I will share my story, a brief random one, mind you.
Once a upon a time…
I bolted up from my chair repeatedly. Nights hazed, and days were physically-taxing and long. For a moment I thought I was back at the old house in Malaysia, subjected to some amusing conversation with my siblings, but my thoughts cleared and my vision tumbled back into reality. Bosnia. I was working, transporting aid, boxes and crates, to a refugee camp.
Aside from the constant brusque awakening and the sweet rare tranquillity of my breaks, my instincts fed somewhat impatient vibes. Yes, things had changed, my self-esteem was shifting radically; wasn’t so keen to be in the killing fields and not do anything. Impatience. Hot blood flowing in my veins.
As days passed, in the increasing warm weather, I mired myself in silence, packing the supplies of medicine and tents. Like a robot, a useless damaged robot. In the deafening silence of my mind. I had avoided all casual talks with my colleagues, pleasantries pushed aside, and thus people generally ignored me. Which was fine with me.
The unusual signs, the gloominess of spirit, was so intense that I was relieved, finally, to see and be distracted by an attractive woman driving into the camp.
Actually she was about my age, dressed in a simple light hazel blouse, jeans and dark safety boots. She had black hair, tan skin, but even from where I stood, I could tell that her eyes were dark, her lips ~ gorgeous and red. We smiled, we spoke, candidly about the challenges we had faced in dire times, sharing stories, about humanitarian relief work, and I remember her saying that I appeared disturbingly untroubled, almost serene, with the exception of my mischievous smile.
We parted hours later, the meal was bland and cold, but her scent in my nostrils, the taste of her lips on mine. I don’t remember how long she had stayed in Bosnia or which agency she was attached to, but I remember her slender neck, sweat rolling down, our conversations, the playful twist of her lips when she suppressed a laughter. I remember the hugs.
A remarkable woman, and an immensely satisfying night.
สารคดี “หลงกรุง” เป็นสารคดีภาษาไทยที่คุณฝรั่งแคนาดา แดเนียล เฟรเซอร์ ผลิตขึ้นเพื่อฉายทางช่อง ThaiPBS
ดังรายละเอียดที่เขาได้บรรยายไว้ที่ facebook ของรายการ “หลงกรุง” ว่า Continue reading “Long Kung — 2011 Thailand Flood Crisis Documentary (in Thai) by ‘Daniel’”
When I was doing my relief work in a partially flooded-Bangkok, I met a homeless elderly woman sitting on a bench at 4:17 am. Her two heavy sacks was filled with dirty clothes, her face was masked with pure exhaustion, and she fiddled with an empty bottle. I offered her my flask, but she graciously declined with a smile, and in English, said she had to walk the path Fate had set for her.
Within her eyes burned a desire to survive. She did not lose her home due to the enraged flood, she lost it because of society’s prejudice and ignorance. Apathy has forced her into homelessness for two years. The heavy flood was merely an eye-opener for people living in Bangkok and many provinces in Thailand; but did anyone see those without a home before the flood? Has society changed its behaviour towards homeless people?
This woman had fought horrors that would have crushed the elites of the city and the spirit of any common man.
ข้อมูลดังต่อไปนี้ ได้รับจากทาง forward email ณ วันที่ 30 มีนาคม 2554 และปรับปรุงใหม่วันที่ 9 ตุลาคม 2554 หากข้อมูลนี้มีที่ผิด ขอความกรุณาแจ้งมาเพื่อปรับปรุงให้ถูกต้องด้วยค่ะ ขอบคุณค่ะ Continue reading “List of Donation Organization — หน่วยงานรับบริจาคสิ่งของและบัญชีธนาคารต่างๆ ช่วยน้ำท่วม [update OCT 2011]”
I celebrated in my progress, rejoiced at the instability of mankind, and have felt ecstatic with sadness at the void that threatens to swallow sanity, and madness.
Should I jump for joy at the mayhem of the universe? Or I should rejoice to see you at any time so deeply absorbed, distracted, in your devotions of apathy that you had not a single thought to spare for the carnage. No. I grief for you and me.