Flying Fish Publishing

Story just writen by a buddy in Thailand, This one is excelent

Taking A Stand

Shahazda Gofran



I was walking back and forth in the hallway of Mahidol University, scratching my skull, my thoughts swirling,

"What if I have no job." I looked outside at the wooden cafeteria where the co-teachers had gathered around for a strike. Some of them were sitting at benches in the cafeteria and some were standing. They were wearing colorful ties and holding briefcases waiting to get paid.
I could not lose my job. When I left Bangladesh my father came to the airport to see me off and said, "Whatever happens, cling to Thailand and don't even think of coming back." Getting another job would be even more difficult. Employers from my previous interviews often frowned at my dark skin.
Inside the classroom, my students were waiting. I pulled out my cell phone and called up Elena. "I don't know what to do. Should I join the strike or continue teaching?"
She said, "There are times in our lives when we need to take a stand. Remember, whatever decisions you take, you have to live with it." Her voice was confident like a young leader who was bringing about a revolution.
It all began one summer afternoon when the director of the university Dr. Menaphan broke his promise to pay our salary on the 28th of October. He was a short and stocky man who wore thick black suit even on the hottest summer days. His irises were pink. His cheeks were spotted with pimples. He had two bodyguards with guns who wore red jackets and sunglasses all the time. They never smiled.
It had been six months when Dr. Menaphan was summoned by the teacher's union. He came rushing in his white jeep emerging out of the dusty haze of the school's front yard and halted the jeep with a hard break. We stood behind a glass framed window of his huge office and watched everything inside-out; the staff was working. The typing and electronic photocopy machine made the only sound. The jeep's tinted windshield was reflecting the dazzling sun that accentuated Menapan's authority. He was approaching the office briskly, where we were waiting to confront him.
I stood behind the teachers and could not be seen from the front. It would be safe, I thought. Dr. Menaphan came in the front and glanced at us. He immediately divided the crowd making a path toward his chamber in the corner of the office, walked inside slamming the door behind him.
Peter went inside Mehaphan's chamber. He was the shortest guy in the union. He liked to take control of any situation. He had black hair and broad forehead. He would tuck his shirt in every context even when he was cooking on weekend at home.
We could see the oval shaped table inside Menaphan's office through the transparent window. Outside, we preserved impeccable silence to hear what was going to happen. Staring at Menaphan's eyes Peter said, "we waited so long for you to pay us, but you did not. We need our money now and if we don't get paid by today, we will not teach." Dr. Menaphan stood up immediately from his chair and pounded a heavy fist on the table and said, "Get out of my office." and pointed to the door.
The office fell into complete silence as though it was a funeral. The accountant Jane looked at me and cast her eyes at the computer. Peter came out of the chamber slowly and directed us to go outside like a calm rally of ants. Everybody was marching toward the cafeteria of the school. But I snuck out of the rally. I said to one of my co-workers that I was going to the restroom, but I went to the classroom instead.
Stepping inside the classroom, I glanced across the white shirts and thin blue ties of the students. Some of them who were sitting in the front row smiled at me. Some in the middle and back rows were talking to each other and the rest were fondling their cell phones and whispers in Thai. There was a saying in Thailand that the Thais have 14 different smiles. Their tranquil black and baby looking eyes with the smile can relive the anxieties for a moment.
One student was eating chocolate vanilla ice-cream as she came to me, "Ajarn, are you going to teach us today?"
I nodded and put my bag down. I started to write something on the board, but I could not think straight. Dr. Menaphon's heavy fist remained locked in my mind and kept rewinding again and again.
If I get fired ……… Should I join the
strike….or should not…..i tapped outside the classroom ignoring the students and rang up my friend Elena for her advice.
* * * *
We desperately needed our money back. We had indebted to angry landlords, "How long will I have to wait for the rent." my landlord said to me yesterday, our cloths stacked and pilled at the laundry store near the corner of soi 19; everyday, out in the heat of the sun, my sweaty shirt stunk, eluded me from the luxury of life, soon the municipality would cut our electric and water supplies, I stayed at home during the weekend and having dinner at a
fancy restaurant was a fantasy. "I was never late to my class. Then, why do I have to wait for my salary." I thought many times.
I shared the apartment with Peter. He was an American dead beat dad, taught ESL at Mahidol. I went to his room and knocked softly at his door. It was 12:00 at night I knew he must have
been reading books. He opened the door, "Oh Mr. Ae, come in." As we went on and on talking about the strike, he said to me, "You young people don't understand doing the right thing." He paused with a sigh. Looking at my eyes steadily, he said, "Old age is regret and guilt. But if you do the right things when you were young, even if you failed to achieve what you wanted, you can still say: I did the right thing. I was not afraid. Listen Ae, We gottaa get Menaphan out of the university."
Then he went to his little bookshelf near by the wall and looked for a book. He came close to me with a book that had no title on the cover page. Holding the book he said, "I know what they mean. It has been fifty years that I have taken it everywhere I moved." He dropped it on the table. It had hard binding. On the spine, in bold faced letters "THE BIBLE" that hadn't faded yet, but it had wrinkles and scratches all over it. The papers were curved and dusty. The weight was as heavy as a rock. I brought the Bible close to my nose; I tried to guess its age. As I put the book on the table with a sigh, Peter said, "There is a reason for everything. God has sent us here and we must get Menaphan out."
Let me tell you some other teachers who were part of the story in some way. Paul. He was from UK. He was pretty popular to his female students. His voice was too soft and he was known chocolate. He was young obviously. The youngest of all. He would not wear the same tie again in the same week. He said to me at a teacher's meting when I was not being convinced to go on strike with them, "Ajarn Ae, we are fighting for a principle here. We can't let the guy
exploiting us." Paused. "Come on man! Do you think Menaphan cares for you or the students?" before Paul finished, from my back I head another voice came, "Menaphan knows only how to make more money." I turned, it was Michael who was from Germany. He taught business communication. His got a Thai girlfriend who was everything to him. Michael had failed many times to his girlfriend to keep his promise to buy a house. There were planning to get married soon and he would never wear a tie at work even if it was a policy of Mahidol.
Robin was from Canada. She worked in British airways for twenty-eight years and teaching was hardly a profession to her. She wanted to keep herself busy with doing something. Thought she never missed any of her airline business classes. The students loved her because she took the time to explain concepts in the corner of the library late in the evening. She was always on time. She would say to her students, "You must be on time, if you want to work in airline industry."
She had a baby and old mother.
Her mother had a bad blood disease that needed blood changing every forth month. There was no cure for the disease. It required 10,000 Bath worth medicine each week. Now it'd been three weeks that Robin had been lying to her old mother, "The drug store had ran out of the medicine and the medicine had been ordered from Switzerland."
* * * * *
When I finished talking to Elena, I grabbed my cell phone and squeezed it in my palm and walked out of the hallway to the cafeteria. I looked at my fancy shoes that had gone through muddy and dusty gravel that I bought from MBK a few days ago. As I reached the cafeteria, I pulled out a chair and sat. Looking at the teachers I said softly, "That's it man, we are all gonna be fired today." I grabbed the handle of the chair tight and my Knuckles whitened.
I felt a sharp pinch and noticed the ruff edges of the chair had sliced my elbow like a razor blade. But I clinched my teeth and turned and looked around the teachers. Everybody was looking at me with suspicions and did not pay attention and went back to their discussion.
"We are doing the right thing." said peter looking at the teachers. We should have done it
last month, Michael said from the other side of the table. Paul said to me, "Ae, what are you doing hear? Go and teach the students!!. You don't have to do this with us." I felt a heavy rejection settled around me and I do not belong here. Peter was sitting by me. He looked at me quietly as though he was observing an animal first time in life. While everybody was talking about their grievance, Michael asked me, "Coffee or tea?" I took the coffee cup from him and sipped. It was bitter as black beer and I wanted to throw up. There was no sugar in it. The hot sun created an aching sensation in my head. I looked at Michael and saw him smoking. "Hey I didn't know you smoke." I said out loud with a surprising voice to get his attention from the discussion. "I do when I am stressed." He said as he was listening to Robin. Michael's fingers were shaky and the cigarette felt on the gravel and she took it up and started to smoke it again. Robin was talking about a strike in the late
80s when British Airways had loss of $500,000,000 and gave most of the demands that the labor union had.
Meanwhile, the academic director Nook came to negotiate a deal. Nook was chubby. He tucked his blue shirt in, but his stomach came out over the belt. He was out of breath once in a while. He had to take a breath twice in the middle of a sentence. He barely said, "Please go and teach. We will
manage to pay your money by the end of next week." Paul said almost immediately, as he lifted his right arm, "Why can't you pay us now?" "Listen, go and tell your boss to pay us now. We are not going to teach until we are paid." Said peter.
Nook walked back to the office to talk to Menaphan. I was looking at my watch and wished the time
had freezed until the dispute was over. I looked at my watch again and again. It was 12:20 already. The students had waited for 20 minutes. And if Dr. Menaphan found out that I did not teach and joined the strike, I knew for sure that I would be fired. Then I won't have a house to live and food to survive and visa to stay in Thailand. "No, I can't do that." I thought.
I said to peter whispering in his ear, "I gotta go to the restroom."
Pretending it was argent. I walked out of the cafeteria and reached the classroom. But the class was empty. I went to the table and pulled my chair, sat and put both my hands on my head and run my fingers through my hair. I felt a drop of sweat trickled down in my back. After awhile, I pull myself up and walked back to my office. I could not care much now. Whatever happens, it's already too much for a day.
It was four. I was preparing to get back home. Putting my flash drive and books in the bag. My phone rang. It was Paul.

"Hey Ae, good news. We got paid. You too man!"

"Oh really!" I said imitating as though it was a great victory. And I felt wired and sighed and went to the finance office. The
accountant took my signature on a piece of paper and handed me 97,500 baht. I looked at the cash and put it inside my pocket. The money did not fit my pocket. I split it up and put it in both pockets.
I came back home and put the money on the bed and looked at it. Looked and imagined how could I spend it, a digital camera and a lap top computer. And then…. Again I would find myself right where I had began.
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posted by flyingfish @ 9:11 PM