There's an honest eight-year-old girl selling flowers in the streets with no hope for the future. Then there's a spoiled brat who will grow up to be a spoiled big brat who will determine the future of this country
As yesterday, Jan 9, was Children's Day, I would like to share with you, dear readers, a story about children. After all, the prime minister also announced yesterday that children are our future. Therefore, let's see what the future might hold.
Usually, at the stop light at a major intersection, my humble vehicle is surrounded by perhaps a Mini Cooper, a Mercedes, an Audi or even a Lamborghini. And I think to myself: ''Wow, lots of rich people live here.''
Sure, there are other vehicles of the middle-class range or lower, but why take notice of them? I'm already driving one.
Now the story of Bangkok is a tale of two cities, contrast is an everyday condition and irony is a constant reminder of life here. Surrounded by the sights of excess and luxury at an intersection, there are also children dressed in rags, as young as five or six years old, making a living on the streets. The following occurred one night.
About 10:30pm at the Asoke-Sukhumvit intersection, a girl selling flowers approached my car. She was likely no more than eight years old. I rolled down the window.
Me: 'How much, honey?'
Girl: 'It's 40 baht per bouquet, sir.'
Me: 'Forty! Aren't they usually 20?'
She looked at me with puppy dog eyes, not saying anything, and I thought to myself: 'What sort of a low life would I be to bargain over 20 baht with an eight year old dressed in rags.'
So I bought two bouquets of roses for 80 baht and handed her a hundred baht bill.
Girl: 'I don't have any change, sir.'
Me: 'That's okay honey, keep the change.'
She said thank you and walked away. This being a major Bangkok intersection, five minutes later I was still stuck at the same spot, singing badly to the song on the radio, keeping myself entertained and preventing road rage at the same time.
Five minutes later the girl knocked on my window and interrupted my masterful sing-along of what was, if I remember correctly, a Britney Spears' song on the radio. (Yes, I sing along to Britney Spears' songs. Anyone have a problem with that?!!!)
Girl: Here's your change, sir. I got it from my sister. (She handed me a 20-baht bill and smiled that sincere, child-like smile that only the innocent can give. And I thought to myself: Wow, honesty!)
On a different occasion and at another intersection, I bought some garlands from another girl, which prompted this conversation with a young lady sitting on the passenger side. She expressed a sentiment that many people I know share.
Young lady: 'Why did you do that? All these kids are working for gangs. You're just wasting your money. She'll probably buy drugs with it.'
Me: 'How do you know?'
Young lady: 'Everyone knows.'
Me: 'Everyone thinks they know, but does anyone actually have proof of that? Look. Sure, a lot of them probably are put up to this by some gangs or even their own parents, but let me ask you this. When she gets older, what do you think will happen to that girl?'
Young lady: 'Probably become a criminal or a prostitute.'
Me: 'Not much of a prospect, is it? I think we both can agree that her future is bleak, can we?'
Young lady: 'Yes, we can.'
Me: 'I think we both can agree that no one is going to rescue her and thousands like her. Not you, not anyone else, and to be honest, not I. Is this correct?'
Young lady: 'It's not our job. Their parents should look after them.'
Me: 'Well, that's easy to say for those who are born fortunate and privileged. Did you see that smile on her face when I bought from her? Life is tough dodging zooming luxury cars to make a living, plus her future also is bleak. I don't know whether she'll give the 20 baht to her parents, a gang, buy drugs, buy food, buy medicine or buy a toy with it. But she seemed genuinely happy that someone bought from her and spent a few moments talking nicely to her, showing care, showing empathy. And now my car also has the sweet smell of garlands in it. All that for 20 baht _ is that so bad?'
Needless to say, the young lady has ceased to occupy the passenger seat in my car since then. But the conversation I had with her was one that I had with many people sharing her sentiments.
The irony is some of these are the very people who, after complaining about the criminality of little eight-year-old girls, would go on sharing insider trading information on the stock markets, discussing how to best connect with which government official to secure a particular concession, analysing which Premier League team to bet on, and wouldn't hesitate to bribe the traffic police.
And I think to myself, do they realise the irony of their condition, the hypocrisy of their own existence?
But then I'm also reminded of another incident on another night at the Klong Toey-Rama 4 intersection. A young boy approached my car, begging for money. I rolled down the window.
Me: 'Do you have something to sell, son?' (The boy shook his head.)
Me: 'Do you have a rag to wipe my window?' (The boy shook his head.)
Me: 'Don't beg for money, son. Work for it. Earn it.' (The boy walked away muttering something, which I'm sure were curses to my ancestors.)
Which brings me to the last story that I would like to share.
Dear readers, you no doubt are familiar with scenes at shopping malls of privileged little brats surrounded by nannies _ yelling, screaming and running amok. Children who would yell at their parents and parents who would retort back: ''Ja, khun loug. Mae roo. Mae khor toad. Jai yen yen, loug.'' Translated: ''Yes, mommy knows. Mommy's sorry. Please, be patient.''
The above is a generalisation, of course.
Not all privileged children are spoiled brats and not all privileged parents are inept. But the scene is familiar enough, which leads me to think: There's an honest eight-year-old girl selling flowers in the streets with no hope for the future. Then there's a spoiled little brat who will grow up to be a spoiled big brat who will determine the future of this country.
The prime minister is correct, the children are our future. But the future could be quite bleak if today we are so apathetic and cynical towards our children in the streets, while at the same time so misguided in raising our children in the malls.
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