From: sl2k+@andrew.cmu.edu (Schitt Laowattana)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.thai
Subject: The Disease Which Knows No Boundaries
Date: 7 Sep 92 16:31:20 GMT
Article-I.D.: andrew.seezFMy00YV7E47F5F
Organization: Doctoral student, Mechanical Engineering, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA

Dear Netters,

    Dr. Somnuk asks me to post this story.



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THE DISEASE WHICH KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES
 
by Dolya L. Srivisal*
This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead is coincidental.
 
 
Having popped a cassette tape of the Requiem by Mozart into the
    tape player, she wandered outside in a daze.  Just as she reached the
    balcony, the put-put of a motorcycle engine told her that the paper
    was now being delivered to the houses in her soi.
    "REAL ESTATE MOGUL DIES FROM AIDS", the headlines would be screaming.
    She clutched the bar which kept her from falling from the balcony with
    white and clammy hands, cold even in the sweltering heat.
    One of these hands reached up to rub her forehead, as if erasing
    painful memories.  As she did so, the music emanating from inside the
    house built up to a climax, intensifying her pain and sorrow.
    The grief-ridden melodies from within provided an odd comfort,
    making her feel as if the music somehow felt empathy for her.
    As she looked out to the streets, throbbing with the quick-paced
    life which typifies Bangkok at midday,an overwhelming surge of
    heat overcame her.  The type of heat characteristic of Thailand
    just before the rains come.  It tends to blend people and things
    together much in the same manner as a massive wave washes over the
    canvas of the present and reinstates it with the old paint of the
    yesterday.  This heat makes it possible to remember the past.
    And so she was transported there, just as the tape play clicked to
    signify the end of side A.
 
Somboon had been a good brother, as far as older brothers go.
    Although he was considerably older and always seemed to be busy,
    he still had time to spare for her.  He always bought her fried
    bananas on Sundays, as he realized that they were her favorite.
    They had been so close and kept no secrets from each
    other...or so she thought.
 
As a child,Somboon had been conditioned to be a hard-worker and
    was constantly reminded of the importance of organization by
    his parents.  As he grew older, this proved to be beneficial
    to him when these habits were carried into high school,
    then later, college, and still later, work.  It was his persistent
    nature, not at all hindered by the fact that he was born into a
    wealthy upper-crust family, that enabled him to enter one of the
    most prestigious high schools in the country.
    Within this school, he quickly sailed to the top.  Capable of
    holding his own in the school's highly competitive environment,
    Somboon was numbered among the school's academic elite.
    As high school progressed, Somboon found that he was not only
    academically inclined, but was an athlete as well.
    He excelled in some of Thailand's major sports: soccer and badminton.
    Coaches immediately saw in him an innate capacity for sports
    and felt no remorse in reaping his talents to the fullest.
    In addition to being an exceptionally well-rounded person,
    Somboon was blessed with what many considered a handsome face.
    At first glance, some might think that he was purely a facade,
    void of any matter beneath the surface.  However, this could be
    no farther from the truth.  Somboon exuded an amiable personality
    which gained him widespread popularity on campus.
    Walking across the campus in the heat and humidity, maneuvering
    into the momentary coolness beneath the shade of Jamjouri trees,
    Somboon was accosted by classmates who wished to merely experience
    his kindness.
 
Taking into account all he had going for him one could think that
    Somboon would become lax as his career in school forged upward.
    After all, having established himself at the peak of a mountain
    many believed to be unattainable, he was entitled to feeling a
    bit euphoric.  But as time passed, Somboon seemed not to able to
    free himself from his work and so he remained entangled in it
    throughout the rest of his high school and college days.
    He was so consumed by his work that he did not allow himself to
    close friendships.  Despite the fact that he was universally liked,
    no one was ever more than an acquaintance.
    However, the problem of his having no "best friend" was given
    little more than a thought.  And he hardly let it impede his
    progress.  By the end of his senior year, Somboon had achieved
    what had been the dream of every Thai student.  Not only had he
    been able to capture the coveted title of class valedictorian,
    but it was soon apparent that he would leave high school being
    remembered as number one in the country as well.
    Besides feeling a little excited at the prospect of meeting the
    king and queen, as every top student in Thailand before him had,
    Somboon did not allow himself the luxury of savoring the glory
    he had obtained.  He was being sponsored by a prominent
    scholarship to attend Harvard University, the university of his
    choice.  He had four more years of school ahead of him;
    his task had just begun.
 
So, a month before the 1971 school year was scheduled to begin,
    in late July, a Thai man named Somboon departed from the Bangkok
    International Airport for the land called America.  He was making
    a journey which many had already pioneered before him.
    Rubbing his hands together, he called the flight attendant
    to bring him a blanket, as the new long-sleeved Oxford shirt
    he was wearing was proving to be inadequate.  As a native of
    tropical weather, Somboon was unaccustomed to the unnaturally
    cool climate of the plane's cabin.  Touching the shirt, now with
    the light caress of memory, he stared out the window.  His gaze
    was fixed on an eternity of sky, but was not really focused on
    anything.  He was thinking about his sister, Latda, who had given
    him the shirt as a gift so, as she said, he would look nice for
    the trip to meung nog, the countries outside.  In four years,
    when he returned to Thailand, she would be so much older, so
    changed. 'Will she remember me?', he wondered.  Head unmoving,s held by
    the hypnotic boundlessness of the clouds, his thoughts were swept away
    with the rushing current which surrounded the plane and vanished just
    as they touched down in Tokyo.
 
It was now 1980, five years after he finished summa cum laude from Harvard.
    Somboon was sitting behind a large teak desk which stood in an office
    whose door was labeled with gold letters which spelled out PRESIDENT.
    He was now the head of a renowned family-owned real-estate company
    in Thailand.  The company had already been sizable and had numerous
    assets before him, but under his leadership, it grew and expanded to
    the point of vastness.
    Now that he had gained a reputation for himself in the real-estate
    community , Somboon regretted the flaw of creating no lasting
    friendships with classmates in his younger years.  He also felt guilty
    at having neglected his baby sister.  At this realization, he began to
    try to make amends.  He started by building a better relationship with
    Latda, finding time in his busy work schedule to attend Latda's school
    functions and go to lunches with her.
    At the same time, Somboon concentrated on his social life.  In very
    little time, his name was easily recognizable in gossip columns as he
    made his way onto the social scene.  However, after a few years of the
    same routine, his life was still sadly unfulfilling.  With the exception
    of becoming closer to Latda, three years of making appearances at
    benefits, concerts and parties had made little difference in his life.
    Then, one day in 1983, Somboon made a shocking discovery which was quite
    unexpected, even him: he was gay.  Whether it was an emotion which had
    been suppressed by pressures when he was young or whether he had always
    known he was homosexual and chose to deny it, it came as a complete
    surprise and threw him off balance.
 
The year 1984 was one in which he wandered confused and in turmoil with
    his emotions.  Even work slackened a bit as he released his grip on the
    reins of the company.  But he emerged from the experience calm and
    collected and had decided what course of action he would take.
    The businessman in him with responsibility had taken over.
    Having pondered his situation, another belief instilled in him
    by his parents helped him to pull himself together.  He could remember
    as a small child, he would sit with parents on a bright yellow patio
    swing which was cleverly placed under the tallest mango tree in the
    garden.  This swing acted as a kind of refuge from the heat.
    Somboon was able to recall that in these sessions during the long,
    hot summers,  they would just sit on the swing to escape the possibility
    of overheating which might occur from the execution of any type of
    activity. His parents would warn him that the worst thing any child of
    theirs could do was to shame or dishonor the family name.  Any negative
    publicity he might receive from the fact that he was gay would affect
    the company as well.  So he chose to keep his sexual preferences in
    the closet while at the same time appeasing his natural instincts
    by seeing lovers secretly.
 
This continued for another six years; Somboon cooly maintained the
    business with ease and on holidays managed to  rendezvous with companions
    he met in discreet nightclubs and bars.  His parents often arranged to
    have him meet the daughters of important clients of theirs, as it was
    the usual custom for affluent Thai parents to introduce their children
    to children of other Thais in the same social circle.  Somboon was by
    now not startled to find that he took no interest in any of them.
    Then in 1991, his real world began to crumble.  Some thought that it
    was his excess luck as a youngster which had turned rotten on him and
    had become foul misfortune.  In any case, it was in this year that he
    began to have some problems with his health.  Fevers and mouth sores
    plagued him frequently.  In a few months he lost much weight and looked
    gaunt.  When he began to show symptoms of what he himself recognized
    as pneumonia, he checked himself into a small hospital which he knew
    would handle his affairs carefully.
 
Upon his arrival at the hospital, the doctors in the emergency room were
    immediately suspicious of Somboon's diagnosis.  The attending physician
    quickly issued orders for the nusrses to exercise extreme precaution
    in caring for the patient and told others to make tests ready to confirm
    a case of the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.  He then called
    radiology and asked them be at hand for chest x-rays for a probable
    AIDS patient.
 
Later, following the tests and x-rays, Somboon was found to have tested
    positive for the AIDS virus with a case of pneumonocystis carinii.
    In isolation he was now in a  sterile white room surrounded by faceless
    people with only eyes, masked by full scrub clothes.  He had oxygen
    tubes coming out of his nose.  However, even though the tubes gave the
    distorted illusion that they were sealing off his nostrils, he was still
    able to smell the distinct odor of the hospital, a mixture comprised of
    disinfectant and various medicines.  The room had been scrubbed clean of
    germs which potentially endangered his life and it seemed, of emotion also
.
    He felt that this must be the lowest point in his life, but that he had
    overcome trials before and would overcome this one as well.  That
    was when they told him he had AIDS.  And Somboon knew then that he
    would never come out of this one victorious.
 
Three months after that sinking realization in the hospital, Latda
    received that newspaper with the caustic headlines.  A few days
    earlier, a private funeral had been held in his honor with only a
    few relatives who had not really known him present.  They were a
    disconsolate tribute to all he had really accomplished in his life,
    Latda thought.  Each mourner bore incense sticks which they placed
    on the funeral site.  A scent with the hint of ambrosia upon it
    seemingly dripped off the sticks, while wispy f   er-like smoke rose
    in the air, as if its purpose was to carry Somboon's spirit off to heaven.
 
    It started to rain, as if the heavens were crying for the true genius
    lost.  When the droplets reached the coffin, the few people who had
    come began to disperse, leaving only Latda and the monk in his
    melancholy chants to mourn for her brother.  The coffin was then slowly
    pushed into the huge furnace which seemed to eat at Latda's pain.
    She threw the handkerchief with her tears on it into the furnace after
    the coffin, as if to throw away her sorrow.  At that instance Latda
    came to a candid comprehension of her own: AIDS is not a disease
    which understands race or class distinctions.  It takes people hostage
    from all walks of life.  It is a nondiscriminant malaldy which
    destroys human life as a whole, the disease that knows no boundaries.
 
*The author is a 14 year old Thai-American residing in St.Louis, MO, USA.
She wrote this article, while in Thailand visiting her grandparents,
after reading about AIDS in Newsweek magazine.