The day I came home

Now that the misery of the flooding is over, many people from the affected areas have returned home. Greeted by sad images, that make happy memories fade. Many stories emerge; one of them – in the Bangkok Post – is from a writer from Lat Lum Kaeo, Pathum Thani.

Niwat Kongpien is a critic and often works on the edge as a photographer. As a result, he has been maligned by many because of his love for nude photography. I found it so endearing that I like to summarize it in a sometimes free Dutch translation:

“When the abundant water reached my house, I had no choice but to find temporary shelter elsewhere. I fled to Hua Hin, but never thought I would have to flee from my own home. In the past fourteen years, I have already survived two floods in this house, which I thought would be my place where I would one day die.

The neighborhood where I live is a community, surrounded by water and therefore familiar with it. The villagers grow rice or have orchards. They have been living with regular flooding for over a century. I wanted to be like them and be able to live with the water. I have researched the natural elements of water, earth, wind and fire so that I would be able to live my life in harmony with them. That's why I built my house in exactly the same way. But I couldn't realize my dream because so much flood water forced me to run for my life. Far from my beloved home.

Today I go home again, the first part went well with the car, but at some point the travel be pursued in a boat. The paddy fields could not be seen, but replaced by a swamp as far as the eye could see. Never before in my life had I seen such a large amount of water. Directly to my village would only take ten minutes by road, but the many water hyacinths meant that we had to constantly choose a different route.

Where did this massive flood come from? A flood is the result of incorrect water management. Solving problems without preparation will only lead to bigger problems. If more attention had been paid to the finer details of good water management, we would be able to handle any amount of water. But I didn't want to be a whiner, at least not now, because if I start doing that, I'll go back to being the grumbler I once was. No, I was sad today at the thought of not being able to get all my books to safety in time. Who would have ever thought that the level of the flood would rise to 2,5 meters?

Finally home in my own house, I walk slowly towards my library. On the walls I could clearly “read” the highest water level, which was now about thirty centimeters lower. The water in my house is not just water from the flooded canal near us. It was mixed with water that has stood on the fields, clouded with rubbish and mud

Cupboards and beds are covered in mud. Paintings were saved because they were hung on the wall - too high for the water mass. There is still water in my low-lying kitchen. My comfortable but austere bedroom is no longer where I will sleep. I fear that I will have to tear down and rebuild the house where I lived for fourteen years.

It is already dusk when I reach the library. As soon as I open it, I see an unbearable chaos. Thousands of soggy books have been reduced to pulp. An ancient piano is about to collapse and chairs bob in a corner of the room.

The floor is full of disintegrated soggy books. I have to get out of here because it hurts my heart. I can barely hold back my tears. How is it possible that I love my books so much? Yes, why not? I couldn't write without those books. My knowledge and conceptions of the world I get from these books, which have now perished in the deluge. I have always lived frugally in order to be able to buy these books with the money I saved. I always took them with me when I moved to a new place and now that I have found a permanent place, ironically, my most precious possession is destroyed by the flood.

Books, which I love so much, are now before me, but I cannot get them back. It would have been better to lose them in a fire, then I wouldn't have to look at that horrible paper mess here. I was always surrounded by books, even as a child. I felt close to them more than anything else in this world. I have always cherished them with care as if to show my gratitude. Books have shaped me into who I am today. A man, not just a being. Indeed, I never believed that you could become a complete person without reading a book.

I could cry for the loss right now, but I won't. At dusk I look outside where the moonlight shines across the rippled skin of all the water. Every night I did that, the view of the moon was always mesmerizing and soothing to me. Even in the darkest, moonless night, I looked up to the sky and asked the darkness where the moon had gone.

The moon is waning tonight, the moonlight helps me forget the loss of my books. The moon tells me not to hold on to my books. Elsewhere there are still millions of books to be read. With this certainty I can go to sleep now and wake up tomorrow for a new future!”

For a better picture of the author: bk.asia-city.com/events/article/first-person-niwat-kongpien