Vague Notes from a Disorganized Desk
Canadian documents,
scraps, letters:
The Executive
Director’s memo to anyone who has local language words and English translation
for dictionary project. A lonely colleague’s
scrawled missive expressing relief in having had a firm bowel movement. A Canadian volunteer’s telegram, dismay at my
publication of an idea, she writes, “How on earth could you suggest that financial accounts are
cultural?”
From my desk, I
observe Thai real time theatre:
Pochai, a new
arrival to the office, discretely distributes cash loans from desk to desk a
week before paycheques. Lisa, the girl
in the market, comes to the office door with vegetables to sell to the
foreigner (me), with a smile that belies the ardour in her eyes. The women office workers turn their eyes to
her, away, then to me moments later. A
United Nations World Food Programme electrolyte packet, intended for
malnourished children, is pulled deftly from a desk drawer, torn at a corner
with polished nails, and mixed into Nuanyung’s iced water. Ah, the office meeting call: office boy
clicking fingers, side jerk of head toward office manager’s closed door, a terse
breathless calling of name: Patung! Patung
grates from his chair, sweat already breaking on his brow.
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