I see her and her son quite often. They sit together at the bottom of one of the exits of a BTS Skytrain station, a few minutes walk from where we live in Bangkok (locally, Krung Thep Maha Nakhon). On the right hand side of the street is an upscale shopping mall, and on the opposite side of the street is yet another upscale shopping mall. Amid all the hustle and bustle, the mom and son sit quietly with a jar in front of them containing some coins and a couple 20 baht notes (worth about 55 US cents each). They are among the faces I see most often sitting on that stretch of sidewalk, quietly asking people for money.
I’ve walked down this sidewalk countless times by now, and over the years I’ve made an effort to make eye contact with everyone who sits near these exits. If anything else, I want them to feel that they are seen and that they matter. And I’ve probably seen this mom and son for a year now. For the first few months or so, the woman’s son, who looks a few years younger than my own son, didn’t look up much at the folks passing by, but now he does. And he always greets me with a smile.
When I see the pair, I say “Sawasdee krup” (hello) and the mom replies with a wai, the traditional Thai greeting, with the palms of her hands pressed together as in prayer. Because I anticipate seeing them and others before I head to my neighborhood park for a morning run, I usually keep some extra cash in the runner’s belt I wear around my waist. I don’t like that I feel compelled to do this, because honestly I feel heartsick that we live in a world where there are people who need to ask other people for money (and in some cases, just to survive). But this is the reality in so many places around the world.
Recently, on one particular morning, I was walking towards the station as I usually do but I wasn’t in my usual running gear. Instead I was in jeans and loafers and was heading to attend a new school year function at my son’s school. As I made my way to head up the stairs of the station, I saw the mom and could see that she had something in her hand. As I got close, I could tell she was holding some money and assumed it was money she had just received. That’s when she smiled at me and handed me four US dollars. I was confused at first, but she smiled and insisted that I take the dollar notes. I thanked her, putting my hand on my heart as I learned to do in Egypt, and I chatted with her a bit, asking if she and her son were doing ok. She said they were and smiled. And sensing that I was in a rush and knowing there wasn’t much more we could talk about anyway given my lack of Thai language skills, we gave each other a wai and I was on my way.
As I got on the train, so many things crossed my mind. My first thoughts were of embarrassment, having received $4 when I had only prepared 50 baht ($1.35) for her and her son. Sure, I had given money to her multiple times before, but it made me think about how little I was actually sharing each time. Other thoughts that popped into my mind were why she didn’t exchange the money, albeit a small amount, into Thai baht. But I realized there could be many reasons for this. Maybe she tried to exchange the notes but the bank staff or the money exchanger wouldn’t accept them given the condition of the notes. Or maybe she doesn’t have an ID card so she couldn’t exchange the money in the first place. It could also be that she doesn’t really know how to exchange the money, or she was embarrassed to do so.
One thing I know having exchanged money in Thailand is that for US currency, the $1 and $5 notes are exchanged at sharply lower rates than the $50 or $100 notes. And some places are really picky about which notes they accept based on the condition of the bills. This was always the case when we lived in Myanmar, for example. US bills needed to be in absolutely immaculate condition, without any creases, for them to be exchangeable into Myanmar kyat— and yet the kyat we received in exchange were often very old and torn notes, and sometimes even notes that had been torn in half and taped back together!
But reflecting some more on the $4 gift, what dawned on me upon returning from school was just how nice the mom probably felt to be able to give me something in return. And I thought about how kind it was of her to prepare the bills for me, knowing that I would be coming by. And then something hit me like a ton of bricks. Here I was, coming back from my son’s school, and there she was, sitting with her son, probably unable to afford his education. From my own educational background in international development, I know that millions of children and youth aged 6 to 18 are out of school, and I recall learning earlier this year that in fact some 244 million children are out of school around the world right now. And yet it really hadn’t crossed my mind that the boy sitting with his mom each morning was one of them. I felt ashamed that I hadn’t really considered this. And although the pair were not sitting at their usual spot by the time I returned from school that day, I knew that the next time I saw them I’d try to help them much more.
The next time I saw them, I had prepared extra money to give to the mom, but she had prepared something else for me too. As I went to share an envelope with her, she took a bag of coins and placed it in my hand. Again, I was surprised just as I was with the four dollar bills and I wanted to decline the gift, indicating with my hand that she should just give it to her son. But she just smiled and said it was ok, and I knew I had to keep the bag. Later, when I got back to my place, I opened the bag to find coins from literally all over the world. There were euros, rupees, Australian dollars, Swiss francs, Argentine pesos, Malaysian ringgit, Chinese yuan… you name it! In one way, the bag was a beautiful representation of compassion from around the world, but on the other hand, the actual contents didn’t help the mom or son because foreign coins are not exchangeable in Thailand (or in most other countries for that matter).
In this way, the mom knew that I would potentially benefit more from the coins than she. But beyond the practical reason, I was just touched by her kindness. It may have been said and written many times before, but it’s absolutely true that the people who are often the most generous are the ones who have the fewest resources themselves.
A week or so after receiving the bag of coins, I saw the mom and son again sitting on the sidewalk, but this time they were at a different BTS station, and it was during the peak of the afternoon sun. I was happy to see their familiar faces but immediately saddened too, realizing that the pair must move around the city throughout the day while having to deal with the heat, the elements, and hunger too.
The mom must have sensed the surprise in my eyes to see them in a different place, and she motioned for me to come over. She started talking much more than she usually does, and I kept eye contact but didn’t understand what she was saying. I smiled a bit and put my hand over my heart to indicate that I wasn’t following her and I looked around to find someone to help interpret for us, but seeing that it might be tough to involve someone else, I decided to call a Thai friend who I knew could and would help. I explained to him who I was with and asked him to talk with the mom to see what she was trying to tell me. So I handed over the phone to her and she talked with my friend for a while, and then she handed the phone over to her son who talked with my friend for a minute or so more before he ended the call. She handed my phone back to me and my friend explained what she wanted to share.
There was a lot to take in, but basically I found out that her husband left her and her son a year ago, and now he’s living with someone else in another province. She doesn’t hear from him anymore and hasn’t been able to find work since he left, so that’s why she relies on the generosity of others to get by for now. And she just wanted me to know that’s why she is where she is, and why she asks folks to help her and her son.
But my friend said the hardest thing was talking with the boy. When he got on the phone, the boy asked my friend, “Are you ok?” “Where are you now?” And that’s when he realized that the boy thought that he was his dad.
I could tell my friend was really moved by this conversation, and I was as well. It made me realize so many things, but mostly that I just want to keep doing what I can to help this mother and son.