Poverty always has a beginning

Surprise! I’ve actually become the new keyboard player for the reggae band that I most admire here in Thailand, which is the Kai Jo Brothers. They are like my long lost brothers since both of our parents come from the same village, Phattalung, and it has been nothing but love. Next week we actually have a show inPhattalung, which is a 10 hour drive down south. We will be performing at the beautiful lotus lake called Talay Noi and there I hope to send prayers and thanks to grandmother’s ashes.

Aside from that, I have spent a lot of time staying indoors or away from tourist areas. Yesterday was my first time actually taking the Skytrain (Bangkok’s railway system) to visit a friend from Los Angeles, and our destination was indeed full of tourists or “farang”, which in Thai translates to foreigner. After getting off, I was overwhelmed by the amount of homeless women I saw with children. I was compelled to give them something but was warned not to because it will keep them on the streets. However, I couldn’t ignore the scars on some of their bodies and their bags of belongings. As much as I tried to justify their situation to make myself feel more apathetic, I couldn’t help but to conjure up the possibilities of their circumstances:

• Could this woman have been a victim of sex trafficking and found a means to escape after becoming pregnant?
• What if this one was abused by her husband and she took the baby before facing anymore trauma?
• Did she migrate from the countryside with little to no means of income, raped while looking for work, and left to fend for herself with no support from family due to fear of shame?
• She’s a drug user. She deserves it.

I, as always, was told to be less sensitive or else I’ll get myself into too much trouble overanalyzing. So as soon as we reached the restaurant, thoughts of these women faded until dinner was done and we had walk the streets once more. My meal was so good I didn’t want my feeling of natural ecstasy to disappear at the sight of these homeless women again, so I walked on the opposite side of the road – hoping to avoid any eye contact or interaction.

I realized I haven’t written in a while and now it’s time for new music. I borrowed a keyboard from one of my musician friends here in Bangkok and put on some artists I’ve really been inspired by lately. Today’s inspiration: I have to thank Nigerian/German artist Nneka waking me up to the reality of the poverty I see around me – especially of my own sisters.

(music has yet to be recorded, but I hope you enjoy the lyrics for now.)

You see my people in the streets
They’re all in the likeness of me.
But everybody keeps on walking,
Guess I’m the only one who sees
and think of the trials they must have gone through,
Walking for miles, some with no shoes
to concrete jungle looking for work.
Some may succeed, others will get hurt.

Oh poverty always has a beginning.
But we choose to be comfortable in our surroundings.
What has become of we? Fend for ourselves and nobody else.
We pretend to be free – at the expense of someone else.

You see my little sister, oh
We’re always blaming the ladies.
But how could she beat herself?
Those scars came from somebody else.
Now she begs in the street
With the baby on her knees
and she’s praying not only to God
but to me.
Will the Savior save her, or is it We?
Guess I’ll make myself feel better,
Give a dollar or three.

Oh poverty always has a beginning.
But we choose to be comfortable in our surroundings.
What has become of we? Fend for ourselves and nobody else.
We pretend to be free – at the expense of someone else.

Why, are we fussing and fighting for more?
Yes, it’s the same seed that can turn something small into war.
Why, did so many innocent die?
Those who survive still got a long way to stay alive

Oh poverty always has a beginning.
But we choose to be comfortable in our surroundings.
What has become of we? Fend for ourselves and nobody else.
We pretend to be free – at the expense of someone else.

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READ PERSONAL STORIES OF PEOPLE FROM SANAM LUANG, BANGKOK’S LARGEST HOMELESS SLUM… AND STEPS THE COMMUNITY IS DOING HELP.

The longer I stay in Bangkok, the more I feel like I’m back in Los Angeles.

Photo Courtesy of Tumeke

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