Educating the Mons on British Profanity
After taking the dogs for a walk this morning, Gemma and I went to Song Kalia as a little treat after lunch.
About 20 minutes away from Sangklaburi, Song Kalia River is a popular destination for locals at the weekend. We took the motorbike there, with Tigerlily riding in the back with me.
The riverbank is occupied by little wooden huts and places to get food and drink. It really is rather an idyllic place to spend an afternoon, and obviously many agree as you are surrounded by families and kids paddling down the river on rubber rings. The people in the hut next to us were certainly getting ‘jolly’ as they managed to accidentally drop their (what must have been, almost empty) bottle of whisky into the river’s surprisingly quick current.
We stayed for about an hour and a half and then headed off home to the sanctuary.
Later in the afternoon, we went over to the Mon side of Sangklaburi to issue the usual treatments, and also to do the ‘scabies’ rounds. We came across a few severe looking scabies cases, one of which was so bad that his skin looked like an elephant’s. He must have been in a lot of pain, and so we pulled over to try and entice him with some food. However, he ignored these attempts and swiftly limped away from us.
Abruptly, we heard a group of people burst into hysterics. We looked over to the house opposite, and there was a group of men sitting in the porch laughing and pointing at us.
One of the comics was yelling ‘vaccination’ in Thai, indicating that it was his dog we were attempting to help. When Gemma asked him if he was indeed the owner, and could he catch it, he just burst into fits of laughter. It turns out that he had no interest in helping us but wanted to merely mock the white women trying to help a street dog.
By the time the exchange had taken place, the dog had scarpered. Gemma and I were both furious, not only at being mocked (which is something that we are growing accustomed to, this behaviour merely shows their ignorance, not ours) but, because of his distraction and childish attempts to gain our attention, we lost the dog.
Overcome by anger, disgust and humiliation, I called him a ‘wanker’ and gave him ‘the finger’. This was by no means my finest or most dignified moment, but it seemed to suit the occasion rather adequately. Feeling that I could at least educate him in some western sign language, it is a shame that this moron seems incapable of being educated in anything else.
The funny thing is that, for some reason, Gemma and I were both overcome by the same anger that we swore simultaneously at the group of idiots. Whilst neither one of us are strangers to hostile situations, it’s funny how this particular one got to us so much; the reason being that his mocking distraction prevented us from helping a sick dog.
Continuing on our rounds, we drove no more than literally 10 seconds down the road when, once again, we became the focus of some unwanted attention as a group of about 20 residents created an audience to watch us catch another scabies dog.
This time, however, there was a gentleman who claimed he was able to catch the dog (he said he was the owner) and so we gave him a shot of the injection in the hope that he will administer it himself at a later time. One can only hope.
As we were finishing up our rounds and departing the Mon side of the village, we spotted another hairless dog, obviously suffering from scabies. The only fur that remained on this girl was the slightest bit on her forehead. With a particularly sweet disposition, it was not only easy to entice her with some dog biscuits, but administering the vaccine itself was quick and painless. As usual, we made sure to take photos so that we can identify her in 2 weeks’ time when part 2 of the shot has to be given.