Saturday, 19 January 2008

Run of bad luck (3, final)


As Thai tearaway Kew spends his night shifts as a security guard asleep, he is free during the day to supplement his earnings.

On the day I saw him, he had been delivering fliers. 'I can make B400 a day, but the work is hard, as I have to walk a long way.'

Kew showed me a large cut on the top of one foot.

'That's from where my flip-flops cut into me when I am walking,' he said.

Kew has been to the doctor to get pills and cream for his cut, which he showed me.

'The cut is dirty. You must clean your foot often until the cut heals,' I said.

Kew is now living alone, after one boy in the place where he lived last, stole almost all his clothes.

'I went to a warehouse where they sell at a discount clothes with small manufacturing flaws. I bought three pairs of pants, for B750 each, and they threw in two long-sleeved shirts.

'I had not worn any of them, and had them at home only a week, before one of the guys I lived with stole the lot.

'Four of us shared a place together - all of us security guards working for the first firm which gave me a job. We didn't know each other, as the company put us in together. He stole clothes from all three of us, then took off.'

One day last week when I called Kew, he was too busy to talk.

'That was the day I went shopping for clothes. I invited a woman friend to help me choose. I took a long time selecting them, and was looking forward to wearing them. But I never had the chance,' he said.

We spent the next hour talking about Kew's love of dogs, and fishing. As he talked, he began to relax, and enjoy himself. We made a time to meet again by the canal next week.

'I get lonely in my job as a security guard. Could you send me a text message, or call at night?' he asked.

I agreed.

'In about a week, when I have some money again, I would like to take you to a little bar I know,' he said.

Kew did not ask me for money. After paying for our beers, I walked with him back to my condo.

I held his arm as we crossed the road. Last time we were out, he took mine.

At my condo, we parted ways. As I watched him walk down the road towards his bus stop, wearing what is probably his only set of clothes, I could not help but admire him.

I hope that I would have as much courage to tackle life's obstacles in the face of such hardship.

Maybe he gets used to struggle. But he's met more problems in his short life than I have ever encountered in mine.

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