IT WAS August 2014 and I was in Bangkok Thailand having dental work done.
It was a package that included accommodation and while the apartment building was lovely, it was in downtown Bangkok and far from the ritzy tourist strips.
At the end of a corridor on my floor there was a large window, through that I saw dozens of ramshackle apartments.
The visual comparison was jarring but if you’ve been following my Ramblings you know I’m originally from South Africa.
The Third World doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I find it fascinating because what’s important to western civilisations doesn’t matter there.
Life happens on a day-to-day basis and what will be, will be.
I’ve also noticed people seem happier and wondered if that’s because they’re more aware of how fragile life is and don’t take it for granted.
I decided to get my nails done and found a little salon in downtown Bangkok that offered this service.
If you’ve ever had nails applied, you know that means at least 30 minutes in close contact with the nail tech and customers on either side.
It was just me and one other customer that day.
She was a young woman who looked to be in her early 20s. Let’s call her Kate.
She looked Thai but had a strong American accent and the nail technicians knew her.
I’m a very curious (nosey) person and from being a journalist I know everyone has a story.
So, I asked and she told.
Kate was raised by a single mum who worked several jobs so her children could be educated well enough to qualify for a bursary to study at a university in the USA.
She enrolled them in an English-speaking Thai school so they’d become fluent.
Kate was in Bangkok on holiday, she was visiting her mum during the mid-term break from an American university.
She was studying for a doctorate in psychiatry.
Her mum still lives in the family home but only half of that is left.
In Thailand the monarch has supreme power and can decide to take parts of people’s land if development is planned.
After working hard and paying off a mortgage, half the house was demolished to accommodate a bridge.
“That’s awful, how can they just take it off her,” I said.
Kate told me in Thai culture it was a privilege to provide for the country in this way.
We spoke of domestic workers in South Africa, and she told me she paid for a cleaner at home in the US.
I was surprised because she was a young, single woman and it seemed an unnecessary expense.
“I’m not buying domestic help, I’m buying time,” she explained.
“Time is our most important commodity because its finite, it will eventually run out for all of us.
“We can’t buy time online or bank it to use later, and most of us don’t know when it’s up.
“I’m buying eight hours a week to spend on working out, sitting in a park drinking coffee or swimming at the beach.
“It’s important to my mental health that I feel energised, relaxed and able to put the best of me into relationships and work.”
It made sense. When you look after your mental health everything else works better, too.
There’s a ripple effect into relationships and the workplace.
I’ve seen how plans, promises and wishes disappear when a day goes awry.
Sometimes it’s a little thing like it’s raining and you’re about to throw a birthday party at the park.
Sometimes it’s something brutal.
I was working in the city and a motorist hit a man while he was crossing the road when the green man light was on.
I was told she turned to give something to her child in a car seat behind her and wasn’t paying attention.
He died.
And that day a part of her would have too.
Two lives changed in the blink of an eye and all their hopes, dreams and plans died that day for both of them.
I covered a job where a man was hit by a car while crossing the road, they had a tarp covering the body but a few metres away were the discarded contents of a planned meal.
Meat, vegies and other groceries just bought lay on the ground, one shoe beside them like a macabre art installation.
We make plans and hope for the best, but time is always a prediction and not set in stone.
Time is our most important commodity and it’s the same if you are rich or living in poverty.
Sometimes fleeting encounters like mine with Kate, remain with us as small life lessons.
Live while you’re alive or you’re better off dead.
