By
Samruam Singh, translated by Katherine A. Bowie.
But what was he to have done? No
matter what, he would have to let his daughter go with Yai Phloy. So what point
would there have been in disagreeing with her, in forcing her to speak the
truth? Wouldn't he only be degrading himself by admitting openly for everyone
to hear that he was so destitute that he had to sell his daughter.
After he gave his word to Yai Phloy,
Lung Maa couldn't think of what to tell his daughter. His heart ached, knowing
that the words Yai Phloy had uttered that day were outright lies. But what was
he to have done? No matter what, he would have to let his daughter go with Yai
Phloy. So what point would there have been in disagreeing with her, in forcing
her to speak the truth? Wouldn't he only be degrading himself by admitting
openly for everyone to hear that he was so destitute that he had to sell his
daughter. Far better to let Yai Phloy go on with her eloquent deception.
However wrong, he could then mumble that he had been tricked by Yai Phloy. In
any event, a man is better branded as having been conned that branded as having
sold his daughter into prostitution.
Yai Phloy's soliloquy was most
pervasive. Anyone listening to it would have been seduced by it. Yai Phloy
began by elucidating in great detail about how children's behavior these days
was getting steadily worse and worse, especially city children, and especially
in Bangkok. This was because their parents were so busy working, striving to
get ahead, that they had not time to stay at home with their children. Instead,
the children were ignored until they finally got into trouble. Hiring someone
to take care of the children was extremely difficult. Some hired servants who,
as soon as their employers weren't watching, absconded with everything in the
house. Lost of them stole, even if just a little here and there. But the major
problem was that servants were so unreliable. As soon as they were the least
bit tired or were criticized or scolded in the least. They ran away back to
their homes. Consequently, several of Bangkok's wealthy elite had requested Yai
Phloy to find them dependable girls to be their servants. They paid good wages
and, moreover, even paid money in advance. As many girls as she could get would
be placed.
Even though Yai Phloy was not from
his village, Lung Maa had known Yai Phloy since she had been a young girl. In
those days, her beauty was known throughout the subdistrict. But before any of
the local youths were able to compete for possession, Yai Phloy had already run
off to Bangkok with someone who had passed through with the medicine show.
Much, much later, when she finally came back, word had it that she had become
thoroughly Bangkokian, with a haughty manner and pretentious lifestyles. She
appeared to have become a lady of no insignificant wealth. Yai Phloy went back
and forth to Bangkok often. Of the girls that went to Bangkok with her, some
came back even poorer than before. And some disappeared completely.
Lung Maa knew perfectly well what
kind of work the girls who went with Yai Phloy did in Bangkok, because one day
he had gone to get an injection at the district health center. That day, the
only too discreet doctor there had told him that two or three girls who had
gone to Bangkok with Yai Phloy had come back with severe cases of gonorrhea, so
severe that he had to send them into town for treatment.
Lung Maa heaved a deep sigh as he
thought of his daughter who was soon to become one more in the ranks of unlucky
girls. He wanted to talk with his daughter so she would understand and be as untroubled
as possible. But he could think of nothing to say.
Paa Saeng, his partner through life,
was lying sick in the hospital in the city, suffering from an intestinal
problem. She was waiting for the money that would be used to pay for the blood
and surgery needed to sustain her life. Her survival, though, would only
continue her pain and suffering.
He couldn't borrow money from anyone
else any more. His present debt totalled already about 10,000 baht. He'd been
in debt for nearly ten years. In all those years, all his efforts had only
succeeded in ensuring that his debts compounded interest slowly.
One year, the garlic price had been
exceptionally good, which was why he found himself in his present state. The
merchants that year had come directly to the village, buying at fourteen to
fifteen baht a kilo. It meant that, for once, Lung Maa had enough money to
think of working for a better life. So, he borrowed 10,000 baht. With that and
the money he had saved previously, he bought another three rai of paddyfield.
He was willing to pay the interest rate of 150 thang (Note: Thang [pronounced
taang+ not thaang+] is a northern Thai version of bushel. During 1977, one
thang of rice can be sold for 45-50 baht. Please note also that one rai [=1,600
sq. meters or 0.4 acre] of land yields 30-60 thang per crop.) of rice per year.
He had planned to use the entire rice crop from the newly bought land to pay
the interest and use the money from the dry season to pay off the original
loan.
But he met with bad luck. The
following year, the garlic prices dropped to between thirty and fifty satang
(one 100th of baht) a kilo, despite his effort to appease the merchants by
bringing the garlic directly to their warehouses and despite the fact that the
seed he had bought had been very expensive, nearly fifty baht per kilo. He
thought they were probably garlic seeds imported from China. That year began
his downward cycle. No matter how he struggled by trying other crops, the
profit he made was only enough to see his family through. One year, the price
of rice dropped to five baht a thang, forcing him to give up his new plot of
land to his creditor. But he was still left with debts worth more than the plot
of land he had inherited from his parents. He debts kept steadily increasing.
Now he was working his remaining four rai without getting anything himself,
because the rice yield went to pay the interest on his debts. The hope that he
would one day clear himself of his debts had faded.
As he thought of his past, his eyes
brimmed with tears of bitterness at his fate, welling over as his thoughts
turned to the future. In another tow or three days, his daughter, while still
living, would be forced into hell in Bangkok. In two or three weeks, he would
once again face the painful sight of his creditor callously coming to collect
200 thang of rice. This year there had not been enough water, so he was not
sure if he would have enough rice to pay, and if there would be any left over.
Agony tore his heart as he recalled the words of his creditor, echoing in his
mind: "Maa, the money you've borrowed from me now amounts to more than the
value of the land you mortgaged. What am I to do? If it keeps on like this, I'm
afraid I's going to have to ask to claim your land and house. Next year my son
is going abroad, so I'll be having a lot of expenses myself. So please try to
pay me by then, if even only the interest."
So now his daughter had gone with
Yai Phloy. He had controlled his tears. His parting words to his daughter had
been to obey Yai Phloy without questions. If she had any problems, she should
write a letter and let him know. He consoled her by saying if he had a chance,
he would come to visit her. Of what he had prepared to tell her, nor a single
word would come out.
The 2,500 baht he had received as an
advance from Yai Phloy was barely enough to pay for Paa Saeng's hospital
expenses. And when Paa Saeng returned home and learned that her daughter had
gone off with Yai Phloy, she fainted instantly. When she recovered, she began
sobbing and sobbing. She wouldn't talk to or even look Lung Maa in face, let
alone any of her other five children who were standing around her. Lung Maa
could think of nothing to say, so he sought silent refuge in making bamboo
ties. (Note: About 2 feet long ties made of bamboo are to be used in binding
the harvested rice stalks together)
Late that night, when all their
children were asleep, Paa Saeng's voice, muffled with the sounds of weeping,
whispered, "Phii Maa, didn't you know what Ee Phloy took our daughter to do?"
"Mother, I knew, but it was
necessary. You know as well as I that we had no choice. When you were in
hospital, if we didn't have the money to pay for the cost of medicine, the
blood, the saline, and other expenses, the doctor wouldn't have been willing to
treat you. They wouldn't let us go to the destitute ward. Are you angry with
me?"
"No, I'm not angry. But I feel
so sad. Ever since I was born, there's been nothing but suffering."
"Do you know Yai Phloy
well?"
"Oh, the people in the market
place know her only too well. She's taken several of their daughters to sell
already. She gets paid 500 baht a head for some, 2-300 baht for others. She
takes whatever she can get. She's been a prostitute herself, ever since she was
young. When she was not longer able to sell herself, she began selling young
girls instead. Her parents had a lot of debts then. Now things seem to be going
better for them, but they still owe money."
"I worry about our daughter. I
feel so sorry for her. Ever since she left, I don't sleep at night."
"Phii Maa, the matter has
happened and nothing can be done, so we might as well let it pass. We'll help
each other to share the burden of our demerit. It's just as if she has gone off
and gotten a husband, only that she doesn't have a real husband...By the time
she can earn the money to help her parents, I wonder how many husbands she will
have to have..."
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