From: ssg9328@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (Samart Srijumnong)
Subject: ESCAPE THE MIDDLEMAN (a short story)
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Mon, 4 Jan 1993 07:40:50 GMT
Keywords: Thai literature


E S C A P E   T H E   M I D D L E M A N
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Samruam Singh
Translated by Katherine A. Bowie
(From VOICE FROM THE THAI COUNTRY: THE SHORT STORIES OF
SAMRUAM SINGH, Madison: U of Wisconsin Center for Southeast Asian
Studies, Monograph, 1991, pp.57-61)

     The limes in her garden were so ripe that their bright yellow
shone through the trees. If left on the trees another two or three
days they'd start dropping off and wouldn't be worth as much. Paa
Saaj [read Saai+...Samart] decided she couldn't wait any longer for
someone to come to the village to buy limes. She and her children
picked the limes that were ripe, many of them almost over-ripe,
filling two baskets to the brim. She planned to sell them early the
next morning at the weekend market.

     Paa Saaj didn't like going to the weekend market at all. The
trip there and back would cost her ten baht. She'd have to get up
before daybreak and leave the housework and chores for the
children to do. Actually, there were several other markets closer to
her village, but who there would buy two full baskets of limes? The
people who went to these markets were peasant villagers like
herself. 

      She took the opportunity to gather tamlyng [ Tamlyng
(cucurbitaceae) is a herbaceous climber, common on hedge rows and
thickets. The young tender part of the climber is edible...translator]
plants she'd been growing in her garden and tied them into
bunches. Then Paa Saaj left her home and walked over to the home
of Paa Dii, who lived four houses away from her. Paa Dii could have
the mini-truck pick the two of them up a the same time. But, Paa Dii
wasn't at home, and she left word with Paa Dii's son.

     Her husband returned home from the paddyfields and saw the
baskets prepared for the market. He was worried that they were far
too heavy for her to carry. But Paa Saaj insisted that if she only
took a small number, it wouldn't cover the cost of the trip. 

     The next morning, as the cocks began their crowing, Paa Saaj
hurriedly got up, steamed rice for the family, and wrapped some in
a banana-leaf to take to eat at the market. No sooner had she
finished, than the mini-truck arrived and beeped its horn at the
gate.

     "Coming!" she shouted back as the she lifted her baskets and
hurried to the truck. She staggered several times under the weight.

     The noise of the truck engine, the bale of chattering women,
and the incessant jostling made it difficulty to carry on a conversa-
tion with Paa Dii. The back of the truck was crammed full, women
and baskets squashed together. Entrusting herself to Paa Dii's care,
Paa Saaj didn't feel like talking. Not long after the truck reached
the black-topped road, the women in the truck began dropping off
to sleep.

     "Saaj, Saaj. We're almost there. Get your things ready. Did you
bring a flashlight or lamp with you?"

     "No, I didn't.."

     "Well, that's a bit of a problem. You'll have to follow me," Paa
Dii said as she got ready to get out.

     The truck came to a stop and the market women pushed and
shoved each other as each tried to get out first. The driver hurried
to help unload the women's baskets. Flashlights blinked in all
directions.

     "We've arrived late this morning. Now the other sellers will
have taken up all the spaces," a woman shouted, scolding the driver.

     "What do you mean late? It's not even 5 a.m. yet!" a voice
shouted back.

     Paa Dii grabbed her carrying pole and empty baskets and
darted off into the crowd. Though Paa Saaj couldn't see her, she
heard Paa Dii's voice calling back to her, "Saaj, follow me, but hurry
up!"

     By the time the driver finally lifted her baskets down from
the top of the car, Paa Saaj could only vaguely make out the back
of Paa Dii. paa Saaj shifted her two baskets into position and was
putting the carrying pole in between to lift them onto her shoulder
when suddenly the beam of a flashlight lit up bout her baskets.

     "Paa, what are you selling those vegetables for?" A hand
reached down and picked up a bunch.

     "One salyng [a currency unit: 4 salyng is 1 baht...Samart]
each." 

     "What about two bunches for one salyng? Then I'd buy the
whole lot."

     Paa Saaj hesitated. Her eyes searched for Paa Dii, but couldn't
find her in the darkness.

     "What about it, Paa? Each bunch is so small. They aren't even
the green-tipped kind. These white-tipped ones can't be kept very
long."

     Bewildered, Paa Saaj considered what she should do. It was
true; she hadn't bought them. But she had taken a lot of time and
work to gather enough plants to make just one bunch.

     "No, these vegetables were just freshly picked up at dusk
yesterday."

     "So what will come down to, Paa? I'm buying them to sell. You 
should divide some of your profit with me."

     "Three for fifty satang [a currency unit: 100 satang make 1
baht...Samart]. That's the cheapest price."

     "I'll give you one baht for seven. Remember, I'm taking the
whole lot. Hmm, you have fifteen bundles here. Here's two baht.
Here, take the money, Paa."

     Two baht were forced into Paa Saaj's palm. The tamlyng plants
were transferred into the buyer's baskets, who then got ready to
walk off. Stunned, Paa Saaj held the money and watched the figure
of the buyer walking away. She felt dissatisfied.

     Another flashlight shone on her baskets. The flashlight's
owner squatted down next to her, hands rummaging among the limes
while she looked up and asked Paa Saaj, "Maekhaa [pronounced
MEE"Khaa^...Samart], how much per hundred limes?"

     "Ten baht." Paa Saaj squatted down, looking the other woman
in the face. 

     "Oh ho, So expensive? No one will buy them at that price! Try
another price."

     "Ten baht is not expensive. There aren't many limes this
season, so they're hard to come by."

     "Really far too expensive! And they're such small limes, too.
They're already going bad. They can't be kept much longer before
they's rot. Look at those. I bought for seven baht per hundred, no
more. Here, have a look. And they're much better looking, too."

     Paa Saaj peered at the limes inside the woman's bag. She
hadn't had a change to get a proper look when the light flashed to
her limes.

     "So what do you say? Give me another offer. If it's not too
high, I'll buy the whole lot."

     "How much you willing to give me?" Paa Saaj asked in
frustration.

     "Six baht," she said, while preparing to stand up."All right,
I'll give you eight."

     "That's one more baht that the price they've been buying
them for in the village," Paa Saaj thought to herself.

     "Actually that's too much. I'll have a look around and come
back later. At that price no one will be buying them." She walked
off to another car that had just arrived.

     Another customer hurried over, flashlight beaming. "How much
per hundred, Grandmother?"

     "Eight baht."

     "I'll take all you have. How much do you have?"

     "Wait a minute, Maekhaa. You agreed to sell them to me!" the
first woman said, pushing her way though anxiously. "She just sold
these to me. I was the one who made the offer of eight baht per
hundred just a minute ago. I had to go back to get a bag just now.
Go and buy somewhere else."

     The second woman turned away, looking disappointed. The
original customer began counting the lemons as she dropped them
into her bag. Paa Saaj looked on in silence.

     "That's 1,000, with some left over, but still less than 100. So
let's say an even 1,000. How about throwing in the rest for good
measure to make up for those that are already rotting or damaged?"

     Paa Saaj took the money, relieved and yet somehow sad at the
same time. She piled her empty baskets on top of each other, hung
them over her carrying pole, and wandered aimlessly about the
market. She thought she might buy a few things to take home with
her as soon as it grew lighter and she could see better.

     The market was incredibly big. Kerosene lamps and candles
flickered everywhere, as if vying with the stars in the heaven
above. Paa Saaj peered at the faces of the market women, trying to
find Paa Dii.

     "Saaj, I'm over here. You've sold everything, haven't you?" It
was Paa Dii, one hand carrying her baskets, the other holding a
flashlight. She kept up her brisk pace without stopping. 

     "Yes, I've sold everything," Paa Saaj replied, trying to keep
up with her friend.

     "Good gracious, why were you in such a rush to sell every-
thing? I went and reserved a space for especially for you. So, how
much did you get? And what about the lime?"

     "Eight baht per hundred. It seemed a bit too cheap to me, but
they bought them all."

     Paa Dii turned to look back a moment. "Heavens, Saaj! Limes
sell here for fifteen baht per hundred at the very least. We arrived
here a little late. The merchant women from Chiang Mai had already
arrived. You could have gotten twenty baht per hundred easily. If
you're going to sell them that cheap, it's not worth all the trouble
of coming to market. You let the middlemen take advantage of you!"

     "What's was that, Dii? Middle what?"

     "The whole lot of them here. They buy cheap and sell dear,
just like what happened to you. Everyone carrying flashlights, that's
what's all of them do. Even I hardly ever bring anything from home.
I get it all around here. You just have to know how to talk well and
how to buy. Villagers are stupid. Most of them don't come to sell
goods, buy usually to buy. But since they come anyway, they take
opportunity to bring whatever they might have to sell with them.
Whatever we offer them, they sell for that. A little later, we resell
it, this time for profit. Like your limes, they's be selling for fifteen
baht a hundred easily. If that woman takes them to sell in Chiang
Mai, she'll get twenty to twenty-five baht for them. And if she goes
herself and sits in the market in Chiang Mai, she'll be getting one
baht just for two, three limes. Good profits with none of the tiring
work of planting or picking."

     "So if I were a marketseller in Chiang Mai, I could have gotten
over 300 baht instead of just eighty for my limes?"

     "No point in even thinking about escaping the middlemen. To
be a seller in the city market, you'd have to spend seventeen to
eighteen baht a day on transportation. And more importantly, you'd
need to have a pile of money to rent table space. The cheapest they
go for is at least 1,500 per year. And there's no point in thinking
of selling directly to the city marketsellers. They all have their
regular buyers and sellers."

     "So what should I do?"

     "If you're thinking of doing any real buying and selling, be
a middleman like me. Even though your own trees bear no limes,
you'll still have limes to sell, and you can sell them for better
profits that you'd get picking them yourself." 



                       >>>> T H E  E N D <<<<