In the ‘olden days,’ the dark side was so named as it was the truly the dark side of Pattaya, very few inhabitants, no chain stores, red mud roads, a veritable jungle.
My first visit down Siam Country Club Road to the local golf course was in 1986, and it was truly dark back then. A 4-wheel drive was needed for any traffic beyond the railway tracks as it was just a rutted mud road with no streetlights of any description.
Fast forward to today, and it is truly a different world. All of the amenities that used to entail a long trip to Pattaya now exist out here, from shopping centres, bakery shops, first class restaurants, bars and nightclubs, and hordes of walled and gated estates where many people who have given up the infrastructure problems and traffic woes that exist in Pattaya proper, preferring to live not in isolation, but in relative peace.
But, there still exists a dark underbelly on this side. All of these gated communities didn’t just build themselves; it took labour, and a lot of it. Yet the ones that did the menial tasks of building the tall fences that surround the McMansions, the maids, the gardeners, the pool boys, and the rest of the much needed but mostly underappreciated people that built these places and still live out here, are still striving to make a life doing what they have done for years. But they don’t have the opportunities that they once had; it is truly a bleak scene.
And it isn’t getting any better.
People like you and me pretend it doesn’t exist, but if any of us were to walk a mile in their shoes, we’d see what they have to endure.Once again, on Monday, Sept. 7, the Pattaya Union of Motorcycle Clubs (UPMC) stepped up to help.
The day’s first stop took us to a place just outside of Pattaya, where a derelict 3-story abandoned building that used to be the headquarters of a major building contractor is now home to at least eight people, and probably more, who live there in fetid squalor that is beyond your wildest nightmare.
And you drive by it. Every. Single. Day.
We shared with the inhabitants some food and water which was gratefully received by the thankful resident squatters.
We followed with a short trip down the soi and a right turn just past the Wat, and towards the gated community.
Almost into the gated community, but not quite.
We turned left at the guarded gates, followed the tall wall, and then took a quick right turn, snaking and meandering behind the glorious walls of the rich folk’s mansions, along a dirt track that meanders its way deeper and deeper into a place that few white people have ever ventured, let alone even imagined could exist this close to Pattaya.
We drove further down this muddy and neglected road until abject poverty was so in our faces that we were at a loss for words. Then we came to the end of the road, to a place known as home to the poor folk that dwell there.
People like you and me pretend it doesn’t exist, but if any of us were to walk a mile in their shoes, we’d see what they have to endure. And it is here, front and centre, and it is in our face.
We had two trucks, one loaded with 500 kgs of rice and one truck loaded with 50 cases of water.
As we steered the trucks towards the end of this world, the children started to follow along behind us, some staring wide-eyed out of curiosity, others doing actual cartwheels of joy knowing that they were going to eat this day.
A local organizer had the destitute people line up and take a number, hand-drawn on a slip of paper, so that they could receive what little we had to offer. Even with the rats of hunger gnawing away at their distended bellies, they lined up and patiently waited their turn.
A small speech in Thai was delivered, and the line proceeded forward to receive their meager portions.
Two of us broke away from the group who controlled the donations of food, noodles, and water, and toured the ramshackle ‘village.’
In the entire slum, there was one squat toilet/shower facility/laundry room combined into an area barely two meters square.
The roofing on the shacks was so rusted that they might as well have not even existed, as they offered no protection from the elements. To quote a famous songstress, “Into everybody’s life, a little rain must fall” – well people, it is raining.
After the tour of the terrible living conditions, we returned to the trucks where we gave out everything we had.
Times are difficult for all of us at this time, but we can and we will try to make a difference as often as we can. Any donations of foodstuff, old clothes, toys for children, or any amount of cash are gratefully accepted and warmly welcomed.
Bangkok Bank, Account Name: Samran Mathis, Account No. 981-0-10482-9.
As another one of my heroes once stated, “We can’t help everyone, but everyone can help someone.”
