Of the mercy to live another day....2nd
Part!

The Death-Wing

This is the place where patients unable to even go to the bathroom/lavatory are accommodated. Where feeding the patients can be a heavy chore. 

The building itself only has ground level and some 20 beds are spread to both sides. Every single person in this section has already reached the final stage. The nurses working here do an unbelievably hard job; mentally and physically. Not one of the people here could exist without help. Sometimes the death struggle lasts only a few hours, sometimes even weeks.

Although I visited this place for 2 days only, I can imagine that even tough nurses give up after a few months, leave the Temple and try to find other jobs. Not a single person of the 1992 staff is still working here.

there is no such a thing as being prepared when entering a room full of practically dying Aids-victims. My first impression is: sticky air, an odor of eucalyptus mixed with that of urine and excrements. The nurses wear rubber gloves and safety masks – we have none of these things. “Don’t worry, you are the danger – not them” our guide tells us. Looking around, I see a wide open sliding door and can read a warning on a white A4 piece of paper: “Tuberculosis Section – Please wear Safety Masks”, but I don’t have one!

I can see a nurse inside over there wearing a mask,  just attending to a tuberculosis patient. My blood pressure rising instantly, sweat beads gathering on my forehead, my glasses cloud up, I am petrified, although I had assured myself to stay cool and calm beforehand. My hands are shaking – unacceptable for a photographer! I tell myself: try to get your act together - it is too late anyway – do your job, take a few pictures and then get out of here!

At first I address the present patients with a polite Wai and a Sawasdee Krab which stands for “Good day”. All of them still capable watch every single one of my moves. They are all aware of the fact that my visit here means that they will be documented. Some of them respond to my greeting, others follow my actions suspiciously. The first patient I turn to is Arun, a 32 year old Thai lying in his bed and smiling at me.

Politely I ask if I may take a picture of him and he nods in silence. Arun comes from one of the northern provinces of Thailand and is actually not really a Thai but a Karen – a member of a hill tribe in the country. He informs me that 11 years ago after a battle with the Burmese army, nearly all the people of his village were killed or severely injured. In those days a lot of them received blood conserves in a field hospital of the Red Cross and, unfortunately, contracted the HI-virus. He is one of the last ones that have survived.

The next person I see is Maha, 46 years old. He does not speak and only opens his eyes for a short moment, giving me the impression that he wants to contact me. His body is covered with open carcinomas and I don’t even want to imagine the pain he must be suffering from. I found out later that the violet color of his skin came from a Thai tincture which can possibly support the curing.

Within the next half hour, slowly moving from one bed to the other, I get to know all of the patients by name. Every single one has a story to tell and is happy to have somebody listening to it – if only for a few minutes. I do not intend to hide that I felt a deep sadness if not shock facing this contemplation of death. Never before in my life have I seen people dying so close!

In contrary to articles in various newspapers or magazines, not all of the ill here were visitors of brothels or drug addicts along with a lot of other untrue reports in this respect as I am told by my translator in between visiting the patients. The reason is simple. The reporters, claiming to be volunteers, are looking for thrilling stories, do not speak Thai, and hardly anybody around here is capable of more than 10 words English. What for? There is no need for a translator when having to wash and feed the patients, change the diapers etc. Pai tells me. We finally leave the quarters and, first of all, I take a deep breath of fresh air.

Outside I notice a beautiful looking ghost house with pictures freely gliding through the air on a sort of pin board. Passing this, we carry on to the staircase guarded by grim looking warriors to both sides, which leads to the Temple. It’s a long journey up and after like 100 steps we eventually reach the top.

Putting down my camera, I now understand why monks spend so many hours a day praying. Together with one of the monks we stay there for the next half an hour and pray for the people in the monastery.  

The Museum of Life

Our next stop is the Museum of Life. Pai has to leave us and now Nid, a lovely young woman will take over the guide tour. She has just finished University and has volunteered to help at the monastery for a few months in the administrative department.

The so-called Museum of Life may have been built to discourage people outside. For Western understanding it is grossly unnecessary at a place like this. No, to be honest, it is definitely and highly inhuman. Not one of the stuffed and dissected exhibits here – like wild animals – would be happy to be displayed as a bad example for human beings.

After finishing off the Chamber of Horror, we finally walk over to the ovens of the crematory where one of the Aids-victims is prepared for combustion. Together with one of the monks we bid farewell and pray for Thongchai, a 30 year old Thai, now being shoved into the burning furnace. Suntarankul opens up the gas supply and starts the burning process while the attending monk still seems to be praying.

Deeply affected by this routine, I leave the place shaking and walk over to the bathroom to wash my hands and face. My polo-shirt is soaked to the skin as if I had been hit by a tropical shower.  Between the Ladies and the Men’s Room I see the lady-boy again, sitting on the ground arranging and binding flowers together. Taking off my shoes, I enter the room and ask politely, if I may portray her at work.

Som smiles and gives me – unmistakably – the impression that she finds me very attractive. This, unfortunately, leads to a jealous outbreak of the lady-boy at her side and within seconds they are arguing over the matter, which of them may talk to me. Trying to set the situation straight again and to separate the two, I politely ask them how they are doing living here on the Temple site. I know that they are definitely aware of what to expect in the near future and therefore would like to know if they have something to say to the world outside.

Lady-boys in Thailand hardly have any possibility to express themselves and be heard. Toi, the other one, suddenly becomes very quiet and I can see tears in her eyes – which seconds ago had a very happy expression. She gets up, takes 2 pictures out of a drawer and poses for me outside. She tells me that only 4 years ago she was very pretty, in a show and adds that all the men had admired her deeply and wanted to have her.

Toi realizes that I am still waiting for an answer and after a couple of minutes she looks at me and says: “If I could start all over again, I would work like hell and not sell my body in Pattaya anymore. Honestly. Had I known how it ends, I would have chosen the more difficult path of life”.

Madame Pranee Porjai

With the promise to write down the exact words, we all leave the place and walk back to the parking lot where the driver is already awaiting us impatiently. I put my camera aside, sit down at the small Pepsi booth, order a bottle of water, manage a brief eye contact with the sales lady, thank her kindly for handing me a straw and drink half of the bottle in one go.

After spirit of life streamed back into my body I am more aware of the sales lady as a person and ask her carefully: “Excuse me for asking, I really do not want to appear impolite, but how do you feel working here? After all, you are selling drinks on a daily basis only a few hundred meters away from all the Aids-patients and can witness their lingering illness.”

Mrs. Pranee Porjai, 38, born in Lompang, a northern province of Thailand, looks at me and says almost businesslike: “I have it too!”

Her line went through my body like a flash of lightning. The whole day I had been careful not to touch anything and nobody, was careful with my diction and yes, was trying to leave this location unscathed and in good health, taking nothing back with me except for a few pictures – and then this happens! I had taken a sip from the bottle through a straw handed to me by a HIV-Positive. And had she not touched me when I handed her the money? I felt hot and cold at the same time!

Pranee simply looks at me with a mild expression. To her, my reaction was a normal one – from somebody not knowing how to deal with Aids. I felt extremely ashamed because I had reacted so stupidly, knowing that the disease cannot be transmitted like this. “That is exactly the reaction of “healthy people” and the reason why we have to live here as if in a leprosy colony – far away from our families and the rest of the world” she says with a friendly smile.

It suddenly hit me that I had – on one hand – finally reached Wat Phrabat Nampu, but – on the other hand – was still miles away mentally. Far away from the spirit monk Alongkot had 1991 when he founded the place. Although I had originally come to this location to help, I have to admit that I was filled with disgust and fear of the sick her as well.

Of course, I was now interested in the story of the good looking lady running the small food booth and politely asked her if she would also tell us her story, especially inform us about how she was infected.

Pranee tells us that 1972, at the age of 2, she moved to Bangkok, the capital city of Thailand, to stay with her older sister who was already married at that time. She was the youngest of 11 children her mother had given birth to and was brought up very religiously. She was educated in Bangkok but had to start working – like many other kids – after 6 years of basic primary school.

Working hard, she nevertheless tried to be a good Buddhist and woman. At the age of 25 she met her future husband, married and gave birth to her first baby.  With 30 she started having difficulties such as losing weight, having breathing problems, losing her appetite and went to the doctor. He examined her thoroughly and then confronted her with the devastating fact that she was HIV-positive.

The doctor also explained how it might have happened that she was infected and asked her husband to visit him too.

“The line I have Aids went like an endless echo diligently through my head” Pranee says. The other thoughts that constantly went through her mind were:  “I am an awful bad woman, I am an indecent woman, I can’t live in this world anymore”. She tells us that she cried until she had no tears left and then took a kitchen knife, opened up her veins, just wanting to die.

But her sister found her in time, saved her and then was told of her disease. This changed everything for Pranee. Although back in 2004 everybody had already heard and knew about Aids, the abhorrence against HIV-Positives was very big. Nobody really wants to live together with a person carrying Aids. Naturally, her sister still loves her but the “old life” is gone forever. That is for sure!

Pranee decides to break with the past and to retreat to the monastery Wat Phrabat Nampu. She leaves everything behind and asks her sister to take care of her 9 year old child. An unimaginably tough decision for a mother! Later on her sister will tell the girl that her mother had died in a car accident. This was the decision she made herself. She doesn’t want her daughter to have to live with this disgrace. By now Pranee is in tears – even after 4 years it is all too painful for her.

Shortly after arriving at the Temple she is one of the few patients receiving medication which improved her condition noticeably and now can take over a normal job. The Prior offered her to run the small food and drink booth. In exchange she earns money so that she can pay for her medication in return; even for accommodation and meals.

Then, one day, her dramatically sick husband visits her. He is already on an extremely advanced stage but refuses any help. He is also on drugs and had had countless unsafe sex with prostitutes as he now confesses to his wife remorsefully. He cries, apologizes and hopes she will forgive him.

Pranee has long since overcome the separation from her husband and has learned through meditation in the Temple that forgiveness is the solely correct decision ´”because life never ends” she says. “Just laugh and take on everything that comes along - whatever it is. That is the best way because we can’t change it all”.

Pranee would like to add a few words for us all before we leave:

“Should you ever come across or meet people having sex with changing partners although they are married and have a family, please remind them of what happened to me. Tell them that they not only destroy their own life, they also kill their partner, separate parents from their children and friends from a beloved person.”

Fortunately, Pranees body responses well to the HAART therapy and she most likely may live another 20 years with the HIV-virus. She has forgiven her husband who died shortly after his visit. Now she has met another HIV-positive man at the monastery and fell in love with him. They both live together in a 10 square meter hut within the site and want to spend the rest of their remaining lives there.

Life never ends!!!

Please also visit my Charity-Project for the Aids-victims from "Wat Phrabat Nampu"