Long ago, on their way home from the slum slaughterhouse, a half-dozen Klong Toey lads stopped in at a new neighbourhood "beer hall" to enjoy a pint. It was three in the morning and they had just finished butchering their night's quota of pork.
The young men, four Catholics and two Buddhists, were bar regulars. But nothing about this visit would be regular. They were there on a mission. With firm orders from three Catholic grannies, they would immediately, unequivocally and forever close the beer hall.
They sauntered into the beer hall laughing and boisterous, much like party-goers, except that each carried a cudgel (a short thick club) borrowed from slaughterhouse holding pens. They stacked the cudgels against a wall and proceeded to order beers "all around". They sloshed their pints, drained their last swallows and raised their mugs in mock salute... to the bar's final night.
Bar revelry screeched to a halt.
In terms threatening and definitive, the boys instructed the bar's three teenage owners/managers to pack up their stash and shutter the business. Yes, they could keep whatever was in the cash box, plus the powder and pills hidden in the back, but leave the booze. And leave. Now. The gig was over. They shouted the same to anyone who might be upstairs in a room used sometimes for sleep -- and sometimes for other, more nefarious purposes.
The beer hall quickly emptied.
The lads hung back to drink some of the leftover booze. They would sell the rest, giving the proceeds to the slum kindergarten that opened two days later. The Rong Mu Slaughter House Kindergarten would go on to flourish right there where the six cudgels had been laid and beer mugs raised.
The grannies were pleased. Their marching orders had been executed to perfection.
From beer hall to kindergarten
Word travels fast in places where families live in shacks crammed together. And some words burn hotter than others. These words can ignite decrees, marching orders and immediate change. That was the case here.
The beer hall's fate was sealed soon after a stranger in the grip of the grape was seen taking a young girl to the bar's upstairs room. The girl was the child of one of the six lads and the great-grandchild of one of the three Catholic grannies. But Catholic, Muslim or Buddhist, the religious stripe didn't matter. Whenever there is abuse of children, even suspected abuse, everyone is of the same religion and belief.
So the order was given. Shut down the beer hall.
A few weeks earlier, the three teenage bar owners/managers, who were themselves relatives of the Catholic grannies, had repaired, painted and renovated a sturdy shack in the middle of the neighbourhood. They even re-enforced the floor for dancing. The new establishment was immediately popular. Music loud enough to drown out the squeals from pigpens and a bar serving liquids, pills and powders to anyone tall enough to place their money on the bar.
As if that wasn't bad enough, they hung a sign outside the beer hall that read, "Rong Mu School".
One of the grannies was illiterate, so she asked a neighbour what the sign said. When she heard, she went ballistic. As a child she had been too poor to get an education, so her life's dream had been for her kids to grow up steeped in reading, writing and arithmetic. Education was sacred, not something to be mocked.
So, when the six lads entered the beer hall with marching orders, they arrived not so much out of fear of their grannies, but definitely something close to it. The grandmothers were outraged. And as auxiliary members of the Pious Ladies of the Catholic Legion of Mary, they shared the association's focus: to "bring the lost back to the Church".
The fact that the three bar owners/managers were also their relatives made it all the more galling. And then to mock education and stock the upstairs room with mattresses, pillows and air conditioning? Finally, when they heard that one of their great-granddaughters had been seen going up the bar stairs, that's when the grannies joined forces.
They paid a visit to each of the three bar owners/managers and declared them lapsed Catholics. They proceeded to march off with anything in their houses deemed religious: statues of Mary, rosary beads, crucifixes. The bar owners/managers didn't dare resist.
Leaving, one of the grannies would announce: "You are not worthy of these sacred items. When you repent, we will return them to you. Maybe."
They told the bar owners/managers that they were no longer worthy of being Catholic or to go to Sunday Mass. And they were no longer welcome into their shacks or those of other Catholics with whom they had grown up. Lastly, if they died someday soon in a horrible accident -- not unlikely given their sinful ways, said the grannies -- no one would pray for their souls.
A Buddhist granny joined the Catholic grannies and took a statue of Buddha from one of the bar owner's homes. She later told a senior monk of the temple that if he accepted any of the bar owners' bodies for cremation, he was to say only the minimum prayers.
The legacy of angry grannies
No matter how brave you might be, you can't deal with an angry granny. The bar owners tried to sell the beer hall, but no one wanted to buy it.
While the dramatic late-night closing of the bar might not have been necessary, it sealed the deal in quick fashion. At sunrise, the grannies announced that everyone in the community -- Buddhist, Muslim and Catholic -- should come to help clean out the bar, get rid of the smell of stale beer and air out the second floor.
At first light the following day, the bar that had once carried a sign mocking education opened its doors for classes. The Rong Mu Slaughter House Kindergarten was born.
The grannies brought in the confiscated rosaries and statues of Mary in an effort to make the place holy. For assurances and good measure, the Buddhist granny added the statue of Buddha.
In short order, the three bar owners repented. They sorely wanted their holy statues returned because they believed these protected them and their homes. The grannies were in no hurry, but eventually gave them back in exchange for promises that they would pray daily for their grannies' protection and safety.
Today, many years later, the three teenagers have grown up and married, and their own children attend the school. The three Catholic grannies have died, but their portraits hang on the school's walls.
Next to them is a sign that reads, "The Three Founding Ladies".
Meanwhile, the three teenagers, once owners of a beer hall that mocked education, now care for the upkeep of The Rong Mu Slaughter House Kindergarten. They guard it zealously. Recently, when fumes from people smoking drugs wafted into the school, the former bar owners approached the smokers with cudgels. In terms threatening and definitive, they told them to leave immediately, unequivocally and forever.
No fumes have since been spotted or smelt near or in the school.
During that confrontation, several of the school kids whowitnessed it swear that they saw the portraits of the three founding ladies smile.
Father Joe Maier is the director and co-founder of the Human Development Foundation in Klong Toey. For more information, call 02-671-5313 or visit mercycentre.org.
