e-bookเรื่องเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน_เสร็จสมบูรณ์(แมว 8)

Thai Tales from the Deep South if any students were missing, she would hunt them down and put them back in class. Outside the classroom, many students would turn to Mother for help and advice. That was because she always made sure to find solutions for any problem. One Saturday morning, which was just a usual Saturday, after our morning routines of cleaning up the school, attending assembly, reciting the Dua or Islamic invocation, and listening to Pak Long’s remark, we dispersed for ablutions and reading the Al-Quran together with every Cikgu. While we were reading the Al-Quran, there was a phone cal to one of our Cikgus’ mobile phone. The conversation was about the arrest of a Cikgu from a Tadika in the next vilage from ours by the soldiers. The Cikgu who received the bad news obviously had a worrisome look on his face. I also heard Mother say, “What’s going to happen after this? That Cikgu is a quiet man but he is such a hard-working teacher. Despite being camp as he is, he stil got retained by the soldiers! What is so wrong with our work as Tadika teachers!” Before this, there were so many news stories about arresting Tadika teachers from other Tadikas, which seemed quite far away from us - most of them located in Pattani Province, only few in Narathiwat. But today, it had come to us - the capture happened to a Cikgu from the vilage nearby. That day, every Cikgu at our Nurilham Damuhi 201

เร่ืองเลา่ จากปลายดา้ มขวาน school conducted the class as normal. After school, I talked to Mother about the incident. Mother told me that the soldier did not trust any Cikgu or Tadika teachers. They were paranoid that the Cikgus would distort the religious doctrines and provoke the students to be angry and hateful to the soldiers and the country. Hearing that from my Mother, I was shocked. I couldn’t help but wonder how the soldiers could think of such a thing. I had been living in Thailand. I had been a citizen of Thailand. Why wouldn’t I love my own country? To my knowledge, from my entire experience studying at the Tadika, I had never been exposed to any distortion from Cikgu’s teachings. Al of our Tadika teachers had been folowing religious textbooks. They always encouraged their students to observe the Al-Quran and to adhere to the Prophet as a model in our daily life. I was consumed by these thoughts before asking Mother another question, “Mother, when you were young, did you ever experience this kind of situation?” “Never!” She replied. “In my time, these incidents never happened. You see, I also studied Islamic fundamentals at a Tadika just like you. Back then, there were only three or four Cikgus at the school. Nevertheless, they could provide education for many students to be ful y literate and competent enough to teach you children today.” Mother also added that the content in the 202 My Beloved Tadika

Thai Tales from the Deep South religious textbooks for the Tadika had remained unchanged. It taught the students to do good deeds and refrain from evil acts. It also encouraged students to folow the Islamic principles and practices without divergence from the doctrines. Unlike what the soldiers might have thought, the religious textbooks taught us to live harmoniously and to love each other no matter what races or faiths we had. Alah had created people to remain associated and connected, so that we could helpeachother. “Maybe,thesoldiersweretooparanoid, or they might hate us for being Muslims,” spoke Mother in a frustrated tone, with a heavy heart. The conversation between Mother and I that afternoon was extensive enough for me to figure many things out. What if the one who had been arrested were my Mother? How would I live? How would it be in our Tadika? Even with the fact that the arrested Cikgu was not one of our family members, I felt extremely anxious and frightened. Nowadays, there have been many soldiers patroling our Tadika every month. In the past, we could give them our heartfelt smiles. Currently, fear and skepticism grow upon us. Fearing that we might appear suspicious and get arrested by the soldiers, it has been hard for us to develop mutual trust under such circumstances. Nurilham Damuhi 203

เร่ืองเลา่ จากปลายด้ามขวาน Last but not least, I would like to let everyone know how much I loved my Tadika, my Cikgus, my homeland, and my country - Thailand. I have no idea about what had been happening in these areas, how or when it started to happen. The only truth was that there was no way I could hate the people of my own country, even those with different religions. What happened caused considerable impact to every aspect of local lives, especialy to the direct victims. Those suffering immediate loss were forced to go through a trauma. They had been living in fear and anxiety, like me and my friends from the Tadika. Above al, I would never let my beloved Tadika become deprived of teachers. I would try my best to support my friends to come and study at the Tadika on weekends. And most importantly, I would never ever let my Mother become a victim like that poor Cikgu. 204 My Beloved Tadika

The Unfinished Houses Suratchada Jutanan Translated by Asst. Prof. Dr. Yusop Boonsuk



Thai Tales from the Deep South The Unfinished Houses Suratchada Jutanan Scattered sunlight casting over the balcony 207 is gradualy moving towards Faruk’s feet when the hot ray slipped through the door and touched his cheek, the image of a young boy appears with short hair and a tal and skinny body figure, a typical Thai male today. With honey-colored skin and handsomely tan face, he is regarded as one of the vilage’s good-looking young men. Alarming noises from the market at the aley entrance woke him up from a doze-off while he was trying to watch over his Toh Choo—grandma— when dawn was approaching. He roled his big round eyes to scan for the source of the noises. Out of curiosity, he felt tempted to visit the market. So, this morning, he decided to get up, quickly took a shower, and changed. “TohChoo,whatwouldyoulikeforyourmeal? I’l go out and buy it.” I turned to ask my grandma. “Don’t bother, I have already fixed some food for myself. Why don’t you hurry up and go to work?” “Yes, then I wil go to work for now. Today, I wil also visit the market. So, I don’t want to be late for work.” I answered grandma after starting the engine before riding off the house with an old red motorcycle. Suratchada Jutanan

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน Tempting food aromas kicked me in the nose al the way through the aley entrance until I had to stop and park in the corner of a building that resembled a narrow sideway parking lot, which connects to a small alley where my favorite chicken rice restaurant is. I kept folowing the aroma until the end of the aley. “I wil have the usual order, Kah—sister, a special bag, including everything,” I told the lady seler. She nodded in response while hurriedly and skilfuly scooped up the mix for me. Today, the restaurant is more crowded than usual. It could probably be because of the coriander’s aroma in the original flavor soup, which impresses many locals, especialy me. It is so delicious that you could sip every drop of the soup in a bowl. I took the opportunity to explore the market because I woke up early today. I like how the selers at Bang Pu Community Market arrange their stals with a separate zone for food products, making things to now look far more organized. I chose to walk from the end of the aley to its entrance. Since Bang Pu Vilage is connected to the sea, seafood in this market is famous for its freshness. It is almost effortless to get fresh shrimps, scalops, crabs, and fish with shiny eyes and red gils because the fishermen catch and sel these themselves without middlemen’s intervention. Vegetables and fruits are also fresh because the vilagers grow them by themselves. I’m proud that my Bang Pu Vilage is ful of delicious food. I kept cutting through various aleyways until I reached the area where food and folk bakery are sold. Bakery stals are located right at the aley entrance, and this area is my special favorite. Toh Choo, my grandma, loves Akoh. I often drop by this stal and grab some snacks. Akoh is a charcoal baked delicacy usual y molded into circular and oval-shaped flower petals of sel ers’ choices. 208 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South Grandma once said that, when she was young, she was fascinated by this kind of bakery for itsmild sweetness andtraditional fire-roasted aroma. Having it as a treat realy soothes the appetite of older adults like her. Bang Pu Community Market reminds me of my childhood. I was born and raised here. I love Bang Pu. If I were asked about Bang Pu, I would proudly say that it has a 300-year-old mosque, and a recently explored cultural heritage site. The pioneering era of eco-tourism started here from community cooperation when more tourists came to travel. I once had the opportunity to cruise through mangrove tunnels, see fireflies, and stopped by to fish in the Pattani Bay. Although it has already been a month since then, vivid memory of the sunset at Bang Pu Vilage’s viewpoint stil impress me today. I believe that it is because of Bang Pu’s simplistic lifestyle and smiles, reflected in the people’s sincerity and innocent optimism that can effortlessly impress foreign tourists. “It’s going to be eight O’clock in fifteen minutes. Aw, bummer,” I muttered as I looked down at my watch. It’s the consequence of my joyful wander at the market that I almost had lost track of time. I hurriedly accelerated my walking pace towards the parking lot and rode off to the factory. The story began since I applied for a job here. When I first came to hunt for a job, I just thought that Toh Choo’s grocery shop has not been very profitable lately. Expenses began to exceed incomes. Roof leaks also need repairs before the rainy season. When it got financialy stagnant, I decided to get a serious job at the age of seventeen. Suratchada Jutanan 209

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายดา้ มขวาน I started my first career as a bird nest colector. My first teacher, who helped and taught me the skil to colect bird nests, was my father’s coleague, who has a twenty years of age difference from me. People here, including me, cal him Bae Loh—brother Loh. Bae Loh is a middle-aged man at his forty-eight carats (years) with a stout, tal, and big body structure without a chubby bely. His hair is stil black, with quite a few lines of gray hair sticking out. If I didn’t know his age, I probably wouldn’t have guessed it right. Bae Loh is a generous person. His face is always filed with the same genuine smile every time I see him. He’s also an animal lover, noticeable from bits of cat fur occasionaly covering his shirt and body. I secretly saw him frequently feeding two cats at work, and they are now so round looking and out of shape. The first time we talked was when he convinced me to take this job. “Decent jobs like this are hard to come by. If you want to save up, you better not give up and quit too soon.” “In any week, if you could colect many kilos, the chief would definitely give you a big bonus. Don’t think of it as an underprivileged job. Not everybody can do it; it requires people with skils and conscience. There might be some difficult times when you...” Bae Loh suddenly went silent before finishing the sentence. I remained silent and folowed the thoughts until his final incomplete sentence. When I tried to calculate the suggested remuneration, the earning sounded very tempting to a guy who is in poverty and has a Secondary 3 educational qualification like me. So, I was not reluctant to accept the job here. 210 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South 211 When I first saw the factory, I saw a large pastel green building that harmonizes with the surrounding light green forest. Bae Loh told me that Mr. Amnuai, our chief, chose this color because he was inspired by the watercolor in his daughter’s painting. This building is located on the outskirts of Bang Pu Sub-district, bordering Yaring District and Muang District of Pattani Province. It was constructed with seven-story brick block wals. Each floor is equipped with smal windows alowing modest wind and sunlight into the building. I walked up the stairs to explore the workplace floor by floor. My visual observation noticed many surveilance cameras and security devices instaled almost everywhere. It was quite dark inside the building, so I switched to use my ears, listening to birds chirping and flapping wings. I could hear their noises al over the building. I occasionaly had enigmatic goosebumps. The higher the building, the colder it becomes. I couldn’t agree more. I kept climbing up the stairs until I stopped at the sixth floor. Here, the temperature was notably different from that of outside the building. I was overwhelmed with random thoughts. I groundlessly assumedthatthechil airmusthavebeencausedbyinternalhumidity. I kept the thoughts to myself, but I hoped that these CCTV cameras would at least record some evidence for me if I were to be attacked by something. And I eventualy reached the top floor. I stopped and stood stil at a window corner of the seventh floor. At such a high altitude, I was able to see every stretch of the barbed wire fence and a gigantic backyard right behind the building. It was so high that the two double story houses that are about three hundred meters away from the building looked so tiny. Both seemed isolated from Suratchada Jutanan

เร่ืองเล่าจากปลายดา้ มขวาน other houses as if a married couple was separating themselves from a larger group of friends. Since I was wiling to save up for Toh Choo’s roof repair cost, I worked hard, colecting bird nests almost every day. Toh Choo and other folks caled my workplace’s building the big house. She complained that I spent more time in the big house than in my own house. Besides Bae Loh, I also had four other coleagues, but I was most comfortable with Bae Loh because we colected bird nests in the same zone. He always helped me, so I loved and respected him as a coleague and as if he were one of my older relatives. “Who is visiting the big house this morning, Bae? It is crowded.” Faruk asked Bae Loh while panning his eyes to witness the parking lot ful of cars. “Last night, a thief broke into the big house. After reporting the crime this morning, our chief invited the police over to colect evidences for the case in case that the thief left any trace.” Bae Loh replied. I was shocked for a moment. I must have been out of sync with the news because I haven’t heard any about a burglary at al during the past months. Or is it because of an economic decline that forces people to steal things? “But it’s kind of strange.” Words accidentaly slipped out of my mouth. “Strange? What are you talking about?” Bae Loh responded and began to laugh. 212 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South “What is so strange about thieves stealing things from 213 houses? Thieves are everywhere. It is only a matter of time when they would decide to go out and break in.” “That’s true.” I forced an awkward smile giving the agreeing response. What was weird was that for someone to consider stealing bird nests, they first need to know how to preserve them in the storage, how to clean them, and where to sel them. I heard that the thief either colected the bird nests in blind spots to hide from the CCTV cameras or destroyed them. If this was a typical thief, I believe that he wouldn’t have known where these cameras were hidden, especial y during the night. Not many lightbulbs were instal ed to avoid light disturbance for the birds to build their nests. Only moonlight was let through smal windows in the night. At any night, if clouds obscure the moonlight, the building wil turn completely dark. So, if this thief is not very skilful, he would have easily falen and roled down the stairs. This thief was probably was not as stupid as people suspected. In fact, he must rather be an extraordinary thief who specializes in bird nest preservation. At least, if my assumption was right, I think the thief who broke into the big house was probably an insider who worked on the same job as me. Out of the five people who work together, who was the real thief? Suddenly, I sparked a thought. “Bae Loh, Faruk, please get over here.” The chief asked Bae Loh and me. “Are you aware of the break-in situation at the big house?” Asked the chief. Suratchada Jutanan

เร่ืองเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน “I already talked to the captain. For the time being, I wil need everyone’s cooperation to patrol this place every night throughout the week. As for compensation, I have extra OT money for everyone who takes turns guarding our factory.” “Yes, chief.” We actively responded. “About the case, did the thief leave any traces behind, captain?” With enthusiasm, Bae Loh further responded with a question about the mischievous situation. The captain shook his head. “The thief barely left any evidence. He seems to know the routes and areas very wel. Based on the circumstance, if it was not the usual robbery, I presume that it could result from a business conflict. However, as Mr. Amnuai insisted, he never had an enemy.” “This case would take a while for the investigation in order to gain more evidence.” IsawBaeLohsighingafterlisteningtothecaptain’sresponse before he walked away. From the situation that I just saw, I couldn’t help but wonder. I began to feel confused and distrust with everyone around. I had to investigate and uncover the truth myself before paranoia cloud my mind. The aftermath of that thief’s greed was a significant chunk of bird nests,gone missing from the building. This morning, everyone was busy assessing the total damage to the factory. After the workers explored al the bird nest zones, it was found that over two kilograms of bird nests were lost. “Bird nests in our factory are a mixture of A, B, and C grades. Usualy, premium bird nests that have feather removed, cleaned, and are ready for cooking, would cost 40,000 baht per kilogram. 214 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South 215 Now that almost two kilograms of them were stolen, it could mean that the factory has suffered over eighty thousand baht loss.” The chief explained the general picture to everyone on the team. “Whoa! That was nearly a hundred thousand baht lost.” “How many bird nests would there be for a kilogram of weight?” The question slipped through my mouth out of curiosity. “Approximately 100 bird nests together would make up a kilogram, depending on nests’ sizes. In most cases, we would sort them into grades before weighing and seling. This time two kilograms were stolen, meaning that over 200 nests were gone. Losing these many nests, I bet the swiftlets wil busily be flying al over, al day, and al night to build their new nests.” Kay, the chief’s secretary, added. “Aw, poor things. The birds must be very tired of having to spit saliva over and over. This time, I think they wil lose liters of it.” I whispered to Bae Loh to start a conversation. “Do you know, Faruk, how much space this building has? “No, I don’t. I only know that there are seven floors.” I replied while sitting up straight and listening carefuly. “The birds can averagely build ten nests on every square meter. If each floor has 200 square meters, that means there wil be 2,000 nests in a floor, and when the entire seven floors of this building are multiplied, can you figure out how many nests the birds can make?” Faruk quickly tapped the calculator on his phone in his hand.” They can make ten thousand nests. This is definitely a bird kingdom.” I responded loudly. My thoughtless utterance deeply stirred up my guilt for daring to steal nests from the true owners. Suratchada Jutanan

เร่ืองเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน This attempt of the investigation showed that the thief grabbed al possible bird nests without picking. He also colected nests containing red baby birds living inside. Every worker remembers wel which zones in their care contained nests with baby birds. It seems that stains of the tragedy were the only things the thief had deliberately left. I feel sorry for the mother birds. Right now, they are stil flying in circles in search of the missing beloved babies. As for the baby birds, their fates of suffering would be of no difference. Tragedies caused by separation are always painful for those who witness them. Fortunately, our factory has a policy not to colect and sel nests with baby birds. Consequently, its number of swiftlets has now drasticaly increased. Hopefuly, the chief would soon find ways to ease the concern of big customers from China and Taiwan about the shipment. After that break-in at the big house, al the male workers continued to guard the building every night. Even though tonight is the tenth night, there has been no sign of that same thief. So, I consulted the chief by proposing a plot to catch that talented one. The plot is that we should fool him that the guarding shifts have come to an end. “Alright, I know that everyone has been very tired. Tonight, you can go back to sleep at home. I think that the thief wouldn’t dare to break into the big house again. The police are already doing their duties wel enough.” The chief made an announcement to us. Everyone went home except for the chief and me. I insisted on volunteering to guard the place for a while as a distant observer. I waited for a few more nights believing that the same thief must revisit. Since bird nests’ prices are so tempting, 216 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South 217 he would absolutely return for another round if my gut instinct is correct. And by that time, I would be the one who catches this thief. It was as if my hunch told me that I would see him again. I waited patiently. It was the only way to prove things right and remedy our people’s ongoing paranoia. “Just you wait. I’l be the first to unmask the thief and quench the thirst of curiosity.” Sometimes, self-mumbling cures my loneliness when being alone. It was the third night of my stakeout. There has been no sign of progress, as usual. Fortunately, the chief’s house and the police station are not far from here. It gives me peace of mind in the event of an emergency. Thud! Thud! A loud noise came through the back of the house. Would that be it? Here, my hunch comes again. It sounded like the thief was swinging a rope hook across the big house roof and climbed up the wal to the seventh floor. He must have chosen this method because the downstairs windows were too smal. Then it was easy to predict that he would further break the locks or smash the windows to enter the building. Seeing the situation go south, I immediately caled the chief and the captain. He answered the phone and sent reinforcement to the scene shortly after that. I grinned with my white teeth in the dark and said a few words to arouse myself. “It’s time to catch the thief. I believe in you, Faruk. You can do it, go, go!” Ooh, that sounded sexy. I glorified myself. This is the moment that I have always dreamed of having since childhood. Suratchada Jutanan

เร่ืองเลา่ จากปลายดา้ มขวาน I cut through fields to the backyard towards the main front gate because I had the key. The police reinforcement also mobilized after me in a short distance. I chose to climb up the fire escape staircase. I switched between walking and running until I reached the corner of the seventh floor. I tried to hide in the dark, looking up at a CCTV camera. It appeared that the tiny LED lights were not on, meaning that this camera was not functioning. The thief must have intentional y destroyed it. I slowly walked on tiptoes mimicking the thief with the hope of taking photos of him colecting bird nests as evidence so that they could be used against him in the investigation. “What now, captain? Are you ready to arrest him?” It looked like the thief was trying to colect as many bird nests as possible. The bag was almost ful. I am so worried that he would have picked up nests with newly hatched birds. “Stop, this is the police.” A classic sentence was loudly projected from one of the officers. The thief realized that the situation was not in his favor. He hurriedly grabbed the bag with bird nests and ran to the nearest window to escape. “Shoot, now I am in trouble.” I heard the thief mumbling as I ran to the front to intercept him. “You can’t escape. Our unit has set up the parameter at al points. Surrender yourself right now.” An officer announced. The thief, in black, drew a knife. At this point, he was more prepared to fight than to run off. As soon as the captain spotted the knife, he evaded to the side and charged the thief with his elbow to grab the knife. The opponent in this fight was no match for the police. The thief looked skinny. It was unlike the captain, 218 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South who looked as strong and tough as a fine police officer. Both fought hard, struggled, and roled around over the floor. No movie scene is as realistic as when I got to see it with my naked eyes. Swish! It was the sound of the knife slightly missing the captain’s arm. The perpetrator loss the advantage and was finaly apprehended. It was then time to interrogate. The thief was forced to kneel in the corner of the backyard. He wore black shirt and tights. His head and face were wrapped with dark brown cloth. The police puled off the cloth. As soon as the dark brown cloth fel off and touched the ground, I was agape at the face of the real culprit. “This, this, this is ...ashan. Why are you doing this?” This was one of the bizarre scenarios making me forget the intention to take it personal as I originaly planned. The real perpetrator was Hashan, Bae Loh’s only son. He was about my age. Recently, he began to become too clingy with friends. Most of these were roguish kids who hung out together in a large group doing bad things and cruising motorcycles every night until their bodies became unusualy skinny. Although the father frequently warned him, a teen of this age became too excited about these activities to bother listening to the father. He did not find work to earn money and kept asking his parents for money to cover his expenses. I felt sorry for Bae Loh, who occasionaly confided about his son to me. He often made dua to God, praying for his son to stop doing drugs and be the same good person who once helped his parents with work. Suratchada Jutanan 219

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน But it must have been too late. Last month, Hashan’s body looked unhealthier than before. He also seemed to have plenty of cash to buy unnecessary things into the house. I suspect that Bae Loh might have started to doubt his son ever since. That was why he acted suspiciously as if he had something to hide. Who would know a son wel as a father? As for colecting bird nests, he was the one who taught his son to do it with the hope that, someday, he would reform himself and help the parents with work. After the arrest, Hashan confessed to al charges. “We would let the police proceed with the charges against the wrongdoer.” “I’m sorry, Bae Loh.” It was the last sentence the chief spoke to him that day. After hearing it, Bae Loh’s heart was simultaneously overwhelmed with sorrow and frustration. Today, he understood what it feels like when you couldn’t protect what you tried hard to protect. Bae Loh felt troubled every time he saw red bird nests. He admitted that he did not have much education, so he was unsure if it was the blood that came out when birds spit saliva. When he realized that nests with baby birds were colected, he felt even more disturbed. The swiftlets’ images repeatedly spitting saliva to make nests reflected their confusion of why their hundreds or thousands of construction attempts and their nests were stil gone without a trace. “I’m no different from my son. Doing this job is like stealing for a living.” 220 The Unfinished Houses

Thai Tales from the Deep South “My son stole other people’s belongings. His father shamelessly steals birds’ belongings for years. If the birds could talk, they would want to press charges against me as wel. What kind of man am I?” Bae Loh teared up, started to mumble, and kept blaming himself for this event being the result of his actions. After many years of working in this factory, he observed every bird’s behaviors. Every day, when birds built a new nest, they marked a smal scar in his heart. He didn’t want to feel any guiltier. Hence, he told the chief that he would quit that evening. This gray world is stil spinning. Diverse businesses in gray areas stil continue. I have to thank Bae Loh for teaching me the new definition of houses, the kind of houses that must be constantly destroyed. Despite building thousands more and regardless of how firm the foundations are, the owners are eventualy forced to surrender them and accept that their construction would never be completed. When humans do not try to be friends with the environment and continue to raise their endless demands, these swiftlets are left with no clues on how to protect and complete their nests’ construction. Suratchada Jutanan 221



The Vehicle of Merit Sakol Padungwong Translated by Wilaiwan Ka-J



Thai Tales from the Deep South The Vehicle of Merit Sakol Padungwong The light of dawn brightens up the sky, 225 Gleaming rays shines through the clouds, In the hazy sunshine, shadows appearing - Through early morning mist, a briliant light shining: Amidst the haze, silhouettes of houses are vague, Little sparrows greet the sunrise by little tweets, A flock of pigeons gliding in the sky - Hanging on branches, they coo a soothing lulaby. A radiant sight of morning merit emerges, The world suddenly lights up, as bright as the sun - On a cycling rickshaw, sitting an old Buddhist monk, Receiving the alms of offerings is his mission. Saffron robe of the monk glistens like gold, Dons the Muslim rider a dul-white kopiah1 cap - Different faiths, yet co-exist in harmony, Both practice same virtue of doing good deeds consistently. MMc1feoKsautttsliooavlpnieymisoaoiarmhc,cvaaScelasielnvipsoeg.ntaI(.stapIlhsotsuarioscesh,aktthnlahseoseowstSwhhnoeaouparEtneshideobsrofyunnalm-gPFtakrhiolutierlknsicpaoiapnnrtidenfpodeEersiccmdoai)annaledli-so,AScuaodcsuhauctasaahilophelynrownslmiidsTdauahedcyalehysi.loaawfsnobdwrl,anemcdkidoniosntBrgcresoumamnbnemrdio,ofinIudnlneyderoearnadmelsfoseinolatgr,, Sakol Padungwong

เร่ืองเล่าจากปลายดา้ มขวาน The rickshaw rider purifies his mind with a morning prayer, Finished his house chores, he started work with a brightened heart, Along the streets, he paddled on carefuly, He reached the temple as the golden lights spread across the sky: The rider assists the old monk getting on the rickshaw, Adjusting the seat to ensure his safety, The monk arranges his robe to cover his body rightly, They leave the temple, heading to the city. The rickshaw roams around the streets and markets, It stops periodicaly to receive the alms: Food, fruits, juice and sweets, Boxes and bags of offerings piling up in the seat. The rider helps organize the space for gathered food, Actively working with a genuinely helping heart, On the way back, they are fondly greeted, The man beams friendly smiles back at the passers-by. 226 The Vehicle of Merit

Thai Tales from the Deep South The heavily loaded vehicle is not easy to peddle, He pushes it forward with al his strength, Despite strained muscles inside his weary calves, The man continued tirelessly, paddling ahead. In his late sixties, the rider has become weak, He often gets joint and muscle pains, His lower back is tense, his shoulders and neck are aching, A healing solution is to get a massage sometimes. The rickshaw creaks at the old wheels, It has been in service for seasons, Almost a century-old, this vehicle is an antique. But the cracked and bent frame displays its fatigue: The headlamps are missing the lamps, The bent rattan backrest has holes in it, Despite its condition, the rider stil uses his old rickshaw, He is at risks of faling il and has to stop working. Sakol Padungwong 227

เรื่องเลา่ จากปลายด้ามขวาน Some merit makers help the rider stop the trike, And push it forward when the offerings are organized. Wandering through town, receiving random alms, The two old men return when late morning is the time. The rider helps unload the food and other offerings, On the porch, he neatly arranges everything. He said good-bye after the mission is completed, They wil meet again tomorrow when the sun greets the city. Despite different faiths, they share similarities, The joy of merit fils his face, Their mutual supports are praiseworthy, Interdependence brings benefits to both parties. Sharing is gaining, The privilege to give and receive is constructive, This can yield marvelous effects, Turning a nightmare into a sweet dream. At sunrise, this eye-catching sight emerges, Above the bank of the scenic Pattani River, Exhibits a splendid demeanor, Diversity is blessed in this land of givers. 228 The Vehicle of Merit

The Doll Janya Suwan Translated by Wilaiwan Ka-J



Thai Tales from the Deep South The Dol Janya Suwan (1) I woke up from a dream in the middle of the night. In the dream, my daughter was holding a teddy bear in her arms and walked along the road with two Muslim women. One of them was in her middle age, and the other was quite old. A man with a thick beard held one of my daughter’s hands and walked beside her. They were walking at a steady pace, not rushing nor running away. I cal ed out my daughter’s name, but no one seemed to hear it. I tried to run after them, but the quicker I ran, the slower my legs could move. Awake in the dark, I looked around the dim room and found my daughter sleeping soundly in bed. A teddy bear was lying next to her. My wife slept on her side and cuddled our little girl. I felt more relieved. Thinking of such a dream, I worried about the new neighbors who had moved in recently. A frightful feeling rushed through my body, the kind of fear that was hard to shake off. Janya Suwan 231

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน (2) Someone had told me that Saba Yoi is a closed town or just a passageway. I have not been sensitive to such a statement anymore. Many things have existed and run through their courses. Bad situations occurred, and they could possibly repeat without us knowing. People’s lives here have always been tied to fate. IwasbornandraisedhereintheSabaYoiDistrictofSongkhla Province. It’s a city where Garcinia1 thrives and yields more produce than other places. I felt at home here in my hometown as every inch of its land contained stories from the ancestors. These stories had become legends of the land. Many years ago, the security authority declared Saba Yoi a red zone due to its frequent unrest. The most violent incident occurred on April 28, 2004, when a group of men attacked the police post at the five-point intersections to Saba Yoi Market. Nineteen criminals were kiled by the police. The incident had affected the overal livelihood of the locals. Unfortunately, the situation, which at first did not affect our family mentaly, had turned for the worse. My younger brother, who was a police officer, was shot dead on his way back from a city patrol. The culprit has not been identified for legal punishment until now. Afterwards, my 70-year-old mother had falen seriously il. Al family members were devastated and frightened. We started to fear the violence after our direct exposure to it. Our views towards K1paGelreaarylcaei,lnlIoinawd(iiMan, aaclonaldboWra.reIttsattmharnaidvreiCnsedinn)tmriasolasAttfrmroiopciaisc.taTflohfrereufsirttusn.italtoivoektsoliSkoeuathsemaastllApsuiam,pckoiansatanldKisargnraeteankato/ aGinnagdrrceoidtnhiieeanrtiSsinocutohtmheemSaoostnultAyhseuirasnneTdchoianuincvtoraiorekisai.nnTgt hoaefc‘erKoxatsrseanAcgtssSaaonmmd ’r(,iInanddsipoaif)c,GyTaahrnacdiilnsaionaudri,syMaenlalloeawsyssceiuanr,tiraMyl.ysaonumrianrg, 232 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South 233 everything, including people around us, had changed. We came up with negative ideas about Muslims: their preference for violence and their cause to attack non-Muslims. Although we had existing Muslim friends, these questions had always been on our minds. From then on, we viewed a Muslim stranger as a representation of paranoia. We could only be friendly to acquainted Muslims while reserving our interaction with unfamiliar ones. This was how my reservation towards Muslims started. New introductions to these people had been blocked by pretending not to see them, as if I were blind in one eye. It was simply because of fear! (3) I lived in a semi-detached commercial building of five units. The first unit in the corner of the road was a grocery shop. The second unit was my home, which was next to a beauty salon, a fertilizer store, and an insurance agency, respectively. This building was located in a bustling commercial area. A few days ago, the grocery shop owners suddenly moved out. The retired couple in their sixties, wel acquainted with me, told me that at first, their children encouraged them to open a grocery store as their post-retirement job. Then, their relatives here had passed away one after another until there was no one left. Their children, who lived and worked in a different province, started to be worried about the unrest situations. Eventualy, the old couple decided to move in with their children. Their unit was announced for sale or rental. Janya Suwan

เรื่องเลา่ จากปลายด้ามขวาน This certainly was not the first case for the locals to move out of Saba Yoi. However, it was my first time seeing my neighbours moving out. I felt left out in my own home. Although I knew the neighbourhood like the back of my hand, I needed to watch out for any irregularity. (4) Outside my house, a six-wheel truck was parked in front of the corner unit. A group of people were busy moving their things into the house. A young man and a middle-aged man who had a thick beard and wore a sarong and a white kopiah2 cap, were unloading a sewing machine from the truck with difficulties. At the same time, two Muslim women were carrying a large cardboard box into the house. One of the women was in her late thirties. The other, presumably was the mother of the first one, was in her late seventies. The old man turned his head at me. He nodded slightly and gave me a friendly smile. Inevitably, I nodded back in response. Then, I turned my attention towards the truck, which was fuly loaded with many items for the house. After a while, I waked back into my home abruptly. I was surprised of why a Muslim family had suddenly moved into my block. They should have rented a house in the neighbouring Muslim zone in the downtown market. My mind was possessed with the thoughts of unfamiliarity, inconvenience, and paranoia. I didn’t know where this family came from. Their faces were unfamiliar to EbaP2 yKihtdriomluuippnali-pclaFeaihsnittee(riSdsnaoacfnnonodgrdnkmEeSo,aiodkluu)saotiuhlcs-aecAalraldncyshaioTmapnhahwsadoiisdelluaiedocnlayhfdy,wbsalm.osarocwnksetinodcrdBoimernumgmnsbeoriano,nlIiyddndeafroumenndoeensrfigeaall,tMs,Moucaorslltaiftmeoyssntimiaov,aerSlevoinsecg.lcvaIaetpstohi.oraInets,sittshhsueeaclSsshhoouaawtpsheoethrronnef 234 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South 235 me. The image of the men with a ful beard stuck in my mind for hours. It reminded me of the day I lost my brother. I couldn’t stop blaming the murderer to be a Muslim because whenever the authority arrested someone responsible for the violent situations, they were al identified as Muslims. Also, when you look at photos of the wanted fugitives on the bilboard at the army street blockade, they were also al identified as Muslims. Without solid proof, these factors had resulted in ideas and unfair judgment in my mind towards the Muslims. Truthfully, a majority of Muslims are decent people. But now, my misguided attitude was a battlefield of two different views about them: seeing them as good or bad people. In the end, I would always give in to the negativity when I recaled the death of my brother. For this reason, I have never been comfortable talking to unacquainted Muslims, let alone having them as my new neighbours as if someone had played a cunning trick on me. “Had someone moved into the house?” My wife asked me as soon as she got home. She probably did not see the newcomers outside as they were busy arranging their things inside the house. Before I could reply to my wife, our daughter quickly asked, “Who’s in that house, Dad?” “You don’t need to know, my dear,” I assured her. “Our daughter is already in the fifth grade. She needs to get to know the people. Do you want her to be like you, not associating with anyone?” My wife reprimanded me criticaly while walking in my direction. “Alright, then!” Nodding and looking at my wife and my daughter, I said, “I don’t know who they are. I only saw three Muslim people.” Janya Suwan

เร่ืองเลา่ จากปลายด้ามขวาน The silence filed the room. And after a while, my wife said with a blank expression on her face, “This is a Chinese neighborhood. It’s good to have a Muslim family next-door.” “Are you sure?” “What, then...? I know what you’re thinking about and what you’re afraid of, but there is absolutely nothing to do with these new people! You’re already pessimistic about them. Don’t make a judgment yet. We should learn more about their cause and the aim of moving here. Then, we’l discuss. There’s no need to be stressed out now,” she said with a stern face and sighed while gently stroking our daughter’s head. “That’s the way it should be,” I nodded with an embarrassing smile.Inside,Iwasstil worriedandparanoidaboutthiswholesituation. The next morning, I peeked at them from a distance. If they were to come out to the front porch, I would speak into the house. When they walked into the house, I would come out and pretend to check on my plants in the pots. Three days later, there was a long table at the front of the Muslims’ house. Two days later, the Muslim couple started running a food store seling Khao Yum3, or the Southern-Thai herbal rice salad. A signboard that read “Pattani-Style Khao Yum with Noni Leaves” was hung in front of the table. On the folowing day, another table was added, together with a cooker and a big round frying wok. A signboard on the table was written “Bang Ee’s Deep Fried Dough4”. 3TheKhladhiatmoogiYsehtuhmmearswhisitoahfrgrieiccneees,rajoulualisdelnaannsedhdinnehgaesrrolbyfsNuabanimqduBviteuogdueusta,iabnltSehsoe,uaSthnoedurtnhpoTouhfnaTdihefaedirlmdarneiden.dteTdshhefrisidmhispshaoiusrcaed.Srioeudthfiesrhn, 4dIbtCeleiesnhpdin-neforedirsemwedaDitslhlteyresippueagFotaferrnid.eodautDgbhoruecagokhmfa(mYstoonaulsytiaaenoatiaencncCoinhmiCnpaehsnineimaaneandntdPfooartthhreoircneEgocaosintngaTenhed,aSsi)ooyuistmhaeillaoks,ntgoArgsoiraeldngeucnlua-birsrimonweilsnk. 236 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South It was concluded that the Muslim family moved here with a purpose of earning a living. Nothing was wrong about that, somehow, I was stil worried. Where were they from? Why did they decide to live here? These questions remained in my minds. How should I behave? Should I greet them normaly a neighbour, or ignore them until I was assured about their background? (5) The road in which my house was situated led to Yala and Tepa District on the right. On the left, the route headed downtown to the market. A big flea market was on Tuesday every week. I often browsed through the market, but I was rarely accompanied by my wife and my daughter. “Let’s go shopping at the market. We hardly have the same holiday with our daughter,” I asked my wife one day. We were familiar with al vendors at the market, especialy those seling second-hand clothes. Most of them were Muslims, much the same nonlocals. To be friendly, we just smiled at each other. It was not necessary to have a conversation with them. “Look, Dad! There are lots of dols,” belowed my daughter, pointing at a pile of stuffed dols at the roadside. A variety of old dols was offered in a big pile for buyers to select and to purchase. “Do you want one?” My wife asked our daughter kindly. “Yes, Mummy. I’d like a new teddy bear. My old dolphin is wrecked,” my little girl answered. “Let’s go and take a look,” I ushered her to the pile of dols. “Look, Dad! There’s a teddy bear! I wil get it,” my daughter lowered herself to get the dol and embraced it. Janya Suwan 237

เร่ืองเล่าจากปลายดา้ มขวาน The male seler with a familiar face said with a big smile, “It’s beautiful, right? I wil give you a discount if you want to buy it.” My wife took the teddy from my daughter and checked its condition. “Are you sure you want this one? It has got only one- eyed, what a poor teddy bear!” “Is it better to look for another one?” I recommended her. “No. I like this one. We can make a new eye for it, can’t we? What a poor bear!” She insisted. “It’s absolutely a poor one. I’ve taken it to several markets, but no little child would take a pity on it. If you want, I’l charge only 20 Baht,” offered the young Muslim seler, smiling kindly. “Alright, let’s get it for her. It had become hot now, and you need to buy some food,” I said to my wife with a request. Nodding with a smile, she handed the money to the seler. “Thank you, Mummy,” the girl held the teddy bear tightly, smiling joyfuly. “Can you find a new perfect eye for teddy?” “Of course. I wil look for a new teddy eye for you.” We browsed around the market a while longer. Greatly exhibiting local identities, the market was bustling with shoppers during the fruit season and the pre-Islamic festivals of Eid al-Aha and Eid al-Fitri. It was wel-known that this market offered premium durians at a cheaper price, as wel as big and long pods of stinky beans from a fertile forest. Plenty of longkong, rambutans, and mangosteens was available throughout the seasons. Garcinia, the popular local fruit, could be found commonly in the kitchen as 238 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South 239 a type of dried spice and in various forms of OTOP5 products. Unfortunately, the soil fertility of this district had been concealed under great fear for many years. Outsiders viewed Saba Yoi as a mysterious land and a battlefield. However, the locals viewed it as their home and the land of diverse existence, with meaningful underlying values. After returning from the market, I intended to remain silent, not greeting the Muslim neighbours. Things did not go as planned. I stopped the car for my wife to get out. She walked to the gate and opened it. As I was reversing the car with the windows roled down, a voice had loudened. “Where have you been?” The Muslim woman selling Khao Yum greeted my wife. “Oh, we’ve been to the market,” my wife replied with a smile while holding our daughter’s hand to enter the house. “Wow, it’s such a lovely teddy bear! But how come it has got only one eye?” This time, the greeter was the old Muslim woman walking towards us, smiling. “Can I hold it please, dear?” My wife stopped there while I finished parking the car. I got out of the car hurriedly, seeing the old woman holding my daughter’s teddy bear. The food-seling woman stood beside the man with a beard. Al of them smiled at me. To be polite, I smiled back. babTti5iantrnyehOmcamdelTnTubmsphddo,OraiainanoniPrsnlgggkad(ren(staatOrfudismoanb’nodsig-tediadstofsiiioTmsfo.“rtlnsarmeotaimdcacelatrrbth)rlo.aoePpTdnnsrrhudoiOmepOidcpuOTernocaOTeMrtfsOtPtP,siln,PsorpeicocsrlpoatedoretcldtuorlotyucginnTctrm)gthaa”aamnio.skddnOseeaesinnTisaclluOknooSpdcugPhearaimrnlairinagomaecwernrelsktpuanrevrdttetrsoieepla,dlsdrapuedagopcnuetrtetlroeafucirdnrroroygugsmm,hecfmhitapesaiusasrohsncr2ftiahiiot0meyint0eaauos1camlf-htuc2obclso0ooeif0cmpnsa6srTptoolohrargTaoridreehivamlsceaam,eiinthnihdvpoidese’ruetsoqrfssodau7eigrutha,im2ncolo5ietlantsdd5yl., Janya Suwan

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายด้ามขวาน “let’s get inside the house. It’s realy hot here,” I told my family members and swiftly took them by the hands to go inside. “What’s wrong with you? They didn’t behave badly. Don’t do this again! Living next door to each other, we can’t get away from speaking to them,” my wife whispered to me as soon as we reached the kitchen. “Don’t make our daughter frightened either. The child doesn’t know the story about this.” I accepted her words by nodding and smiling at her. Then, I walked to our daughter and sat down by her side. “Howwouldyounametheteddybear,mydear?”Iasserted. “I have no idea now. Umm…Is Abang6 a good name?”. I was taken aback hearing that for a moment. “Yes, it’s a good name. But, are you sure?” I asked my daughter empty-mindedly. “Absolutely. The Abang next door looks like a kind person so I wil name my ted after him, okay?” My daughter asked with a low voice, running her hand over the head of the one-eyed teddy. It was obvious that she was fond of her dol. Watching my daughter, I only wished that she didn’t cal it with such a name. But a part of me didn’t want to upset her. Moreover, I didn’t want to hear my wife’s complaint about this matter anymore. (6) Everything ran smoothly for the Muslim family. They sold Khao Yum to more and more customers. Bang-Ee’s deep-fried dough was sold out every day. The old woman was always busy 6 Abang refers to a big brother in the Malay language. 240 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South with sewing. She did not look like a professional seamstress because she just sat there and stitched up only few pieces of fabric together. Many days later, while I was opening the gate for the car to give my wife and daughter a ride, the old woman walked over to me with something in her hands. “Here you are, sir. It’s the food we sel. I want you to try some. And if you want to have some more later, you’re always welcome at our shop,” she handed me the stuff in her hand. Unwilingly, I took the bag containing her food. I looked at the couple who were busy with their work. At the moment, the man with a thick beard unexpectedly turned his face in my direction. He nodded to me with a smile, so I nodded back and immediately lowered my eyes. “I’d better go as I have to finish sewing their new clothes for the upcoming Eid festival,” the old woman said and returned to the couple. I got in the car and closed the door instantly. My wife raised a question. “What’s in the bag?” “Wel, the Granny gave us their deep-fried dough sticks and Khao Yum,” I replied. “Did you thank her?” asked my wife. I was reluctant to answer, just nodded my head to pretend that I did. “Can I eat the deep-fried dough? My daughter questioned. “We’ve just had breakfast, dear. Besides, we are in a hurry now. Let Daddy eat it later,” replied her mother. Janya Suwan 241

เรื่องเล่าจากปลายดา้ มขวาน After dropping off my wife and daughter, I headed downtown to do some errands regarding my new spare-part shop, which would soon be opened. It was noon when I got home, and the food shop next door was closed. Looking into their house, I saw the old woman busy at her sewing machine. I hesitated to go over there to thank her for the food given to me this morning. A while later, I decided to go back home and take a nap. I got up in the late afternoon and went to the kitchen. I realized that there was no food left. On the dinner table, I saw the bag with Khao Yum and deep-fried dough sticks. By then, the food would have been cold and tasteless. However, I couldn’t bother going out to eat, so I sat down at the table, unpacked the bag, and put the Khao Yum on a plate. I tried one of the fried dough sticks. It was quite chewy because I had left it for too long. It would have been tasty to be eaten hot. After that, I proceeded to finish the entire plate of Khao Yum. Whether it was because of my hunger or something else, I felt that the Khao Yum was the most delicious one I’ve ever had. When my stomach was ful, my mind wandered off to a cloudland. The sense of unfamiliarity and paranoia towards the next-door family eased up. I was unsure of the lingering thoughts in my head. Of course, my negativity towards unacquainted Muslims was a result of my younger brother’s death during the unrest situation. I assumed that my brother was kiled by a Muslim criminal. It might be right, or it might be wrong … But why did I dislike them so? Why was I suspicious of Muslim strangers? Was this simply because of unfamiliarity or something else? I became confused, and my mind was blank. Suddenly, I reached an epiphany. Thinking of my daughter’s teddy bear with one eye missing, if it were alive, seeing 242 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South things through only one eye would have been difficult. Paradoxicaly, I was the one living with two perfect eyes but couldn’t see past a one-sided view of the world. As I contemplated my previous attitude towards people, I wonder whether I should take pity on the teddy bear or myself. Being lost in the thoughts, I picked up the teddy bear and held it in my arms. Its fur was soft, and it was in a good condition. It smeled dusty and was partialy covered with dirt. I thought that the bear should be washed so that my daughter could hug it without reluctance. Moments later, the teddy bear looked cleaner. It would smel so good once it was dried in the sun. I moved the clotheshorse to the front porch and put the teddy on it to dry. I then walked into the house to assess what chores I should be doing. I started doing the house chores as I usualy did. After al the chores were completed, I went outside to colect the teddy bear. I touched to check whether it had dried thoroughly. “I think this would work, sir,” a loudened voice from the back gave me a fright. I turned around to see the old woman living next door. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that you’re easily frightened,” she said with a smile while handing me a black button. I was confused about what it was for. “Give me the teddy bear, please. I wil help sew the button to the missing eye,” she clarified. “You mean this button?” Janya Suwan 243

เรื่องเลา่ จากปลายดา้ มขวาน “Absolutely. It can be a good substitute. The teddy bear wil look better than having only one eye.” Her kind words made me swalow a lump inside my throat with great difficulties. “Would you like to have a seat in my house? It wil take only a minute,” the old woman invited me to her place. Without knowing myself, I folowed her obediently. Al the negative feelings disappeared. My fear crumbled into pieces as if I was in a trance. I was sitting in the living room in the house that belonged to the people I felt unacquainted with. The man, whose name was probably Bang Ee, was praying in the corner of the room. His wife carried a tray with a bottle of cold water and a glass towards me. She placed the tray on the table beside me. “Please drink some water.” I sipped the water in the glass and looked at the old woman sewing the button onto the teddy bear’s face. She moved slowly, looking extremely attentive to this trivial chore. She looked at the remaining eye of the bear carefuly before stitching the button onto the leveled space to ensure a unbalanced position. “You can cal me Bang Ee. We come from Pattani where we also sold food. Once a shop next to ours was bombed, my mother was afraid to live there. We have a relative here in Saba Yoi. He looked for a rental house for us. We plan to live here for a while and wil move back to Pattani when my mother won’t be scared anymore.” Bang Ee came over and sat next to me. He introduced himself and his family along with their lengthy background. I kept listening awkwardly. It was such a comprehensive introduction. 244 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South “Don’t you have any children?” I asked the man who turned his head to his wife. “We had a son. He passed away two years ago due to a misunderstanding with security officers during the violence in Takbai7. He was only a university student,” the woman told the story with sadness in her voice. “Umm…” I couldn’t put it into words. “I am deeply sorry for his death.” The air had become suddenly gloomy. But after a while, the old woman broke the silence. She walked towards me and passed me the teddy bear. “It’s done. Now the teddy bear looks good. Your daughter wil definitely like it, believe me.” I took the dol from her hand, glancing through it roughly. The teddy indeed looked newer and as perfect as it could be. “Thank you very much!” I spoke to each one of them, repeating the gratitude three times. “You’re welcome! You can come here for a chat whenever you like. We haven’t been familiar with people around here,” said Bang Ee when I stepped out of their house. (7) One day, something unusual happened. Bang Ee’s house was quiet, and the door was shut. I was wondering where they had pi7ppnrrrTcooohivttdeeeienssnTttcetaearh.gskAaabwsitanelbiseretVaeetsinhhtoea8alen5antdrhocrcofeeurtsfhnftoeeoicdmncf uastwhrinxreederladeotuhcfotoarhnoulownOmrdincetittneion2siht5’noa,sT2vitdrae0uek0scsu4Bkif,nsafwocihcehdeaetiathsnedtedrihninuco.gtnndoftorfhreNedavasnerohaafitchrplmieewosya’pctlaeaprmrwriopvevariielnnacaentr.terheTaesrhtbceeyadamPirnprae.ttshtTateehnideri Janya Suwan 245

เร่ืองเลา่ จากปลายด้ามขวาน gone. During these few days, I had been busy preparing for the new opening of my part shop. Therefore, I did not notice their absence. “Do you know where our neighbors have gone?” I asked my wife. “Don’t you know it was a Muslim Eid festival yesterday? They possibly went home to Pattani. Didn’t they tel you that?” “No, they didn’t,” I replied with a look of confusion. “I thought you knew about this already. The family told me that two days ago when I took our daughter to say thanks to Grannie for the teddy’s eye.” “Oh, I might have been so busy that I didn’t notice them.” I scratched my head quizzicaly. “Wil they return? Wil Grannie come back, Daddy?” our daughter, holding the teddy in her hands, asked. She might have overheard our conversation. “Possibly, dear. They haven’t moved out yet,” I reassured her. “Because of Grannie’s help, my Abang is not blind anymore. Look, it becomes more beautiful and lifelike!” My wife gave her a hug and gently ran her hand over the little girl’s head. “We wil definitely see Grannie when they come back.” Five days later, Bang Ee’s family had not returned. Two days after that, news of several explosions in Pattani broke out. The incidents were reported to be attempts of the terrorists to create frightful situations. There were no injuries or deaths. 246 The Doll

Thai Tales from the Deep South This was the first time I felt worried watching the news about the outbreaks of violence. Previously, I would feel indifferent towards those repeated situations. This type of news came and went endlessly. This time, I felt different because I thought of the next-door family. I was worried about their security and what could have happened to them. From that day on, we waited for their return. We asked each other in the family when they would come back, even though no one could answer that. Our questions seemed to be a way we gave each other some reassurance. Despite having perfect eyes, including the teddy bear’s which was no longer blind, we were unable to see the family anymore. Ten days later, God sent them back home. Many souvenirs they brought did not make us feel happier than seeing their smiles again. In my opinion, Saba Yoi was their home then. They were not guests or strangers anymore. It seemed that when God sent them back home, a big mountain in my chest had been removed and replaced by a new kind of feeling I have never felt before. I did not know what feeling it was that I had about Bang Ee’s family. Every time I thought about this feeling, an image of the button replacing my daughter’s teddy eye manifested. It was such a clear memory, so clear I couldn’t find any way to explain it. Janya Suwan 247