A Prayer Before Dawn: A Nightmare In Thailand by Billy Moore

A Prayer Before Dawn: A Nightmare In Thailand by Billy Moore

Author:Billy Moore [Moore, Billy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Maverick House
Published: 2014-03-10T00:00:00+00:00


13

Boxing Team

THE PRISON BOXING team trained hard, very hard. Every time I tried to enter the gym I was told to go away. “You no welcome,” said a tired, old-looking Thai trainer who called himself the Black Superman. Whenever I approached he would rush over to lock the gate and block my entrance. I just stood outside and stared through the fence, watching the guys sparring.

I pleaded with them to allow me to train. I couldn’t understand why they were so reluctant to let me box, or even work out. It had to be because I was a foreigner.

“Hey, let me in,” I shouted, but the blank faces that stared back told me the answer was going to be no. “Hey, Ajarn,” I shouted. The ajarn, or teacher, was the guy I needed to speak to. In Thailand ajarns are respected.

This time I got his attention; he walked towards me coughing and then spat, “Ari farang yah ma yung gap pom, na.” He spoke in machine-gun Thai. I understood what it meant – don’t bother me, foreigner. I had heard it every day for three weeks.

When I showed him a carton of Krung Thip cigarettes a huge smile magically materialized on his face. “Let me train and they’re yours.” The gate opened.

“Welcome, my friend me,” he said in broken English as I walked past him. I headed over to the ring and chose a pair of battered red bag gloves. All the equipment was old and of poor quality, but it was a gym, the blood-and-sweat type. This was my turf!

I pounded the heavy bag for 30 minutes and the ajarn watched me. All the while he smoked. He was a tall man, in his late forties with an air of authority and kind brown eyes. Neither of us spoke. He just smiled and gave me the thumbs-up. Each morning I went to the gym and the gate was now left open for me.

Boxing every day kept me busy and allowed me to forget the austere surroundings of the prison, if only for a while. The ajarn’s name was Chamnan, but he insisted I call him Nan. We became very close friends. He invited me to break bread with him and a few of the other boxers. Thais are generous with food, and would always offer what they had. Some were lucky enough to have families who prepared food for them and passed it in during visits. Outside in the gym compound, huge meals were laid out on a mat. Five-star fried chicken with sweet sauce, fish, beef, vegetables and a variety of red and green curries, all served with soft boiled rice. This was a joy to the heart, but a much bigger delight to my stomach.

Nan told me that he had been a soldier in the Royal Thai Army before he came to prison. On guard duty one night two drunken police officers stumbled towards him, waving their firearms about in an aggressive manner. They grabbed hold



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