ISOS is proud to introduce the series, Coin In Hand: Flipping the Fate of Poverty by Alexis “Areeya” Frost. Have a look, comment and be sure to check back here for more.

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When I first came to Thailand at 16, I was young and naïve. I had no concept of poverty; no concept of real fear or even real hunger. I’d never seen anybody who was actually starving–literally starving to death, nor had I myself ever gone hungry. That all changed during my stay.

“It wasn’t really anywhere. It had a sad, dejected look that made you wonder whether or not it really existed…”

One day, my Rotary Club took my friend Megan and I to a little village on the outskirts of Ayutthaya. It wasn’t really anywhere. It had a sad, dejected look that made you wonder whether or not it really existed, like a strange dream that you wake up from and you can‘t quite remember. I remember a skinny cow or two, standing and swishing their tails, staring curiously as our car pulled up to a small building. The building was small, but clean, and we were offered sweating glasses of ice water. Megan and I sat on a bench in the shade, drinking our ice water and holding ice cubes to the backs of each other’s sweaty necks. It was so hot that day. I could hear the sound of a generator somewhere behind the building, and I thought of those skinny old cows out front.

“She couldn’t have been much more than six years old, but she already looked like she wasn’t living anymore”

"I tried not to wonder what they were looking for; I didn't want to look at their eyes."

The trunk of the car was opened, and Megan and I lifted out box after box of milk, carrying them inside and placing them on a bench. I could feel the dry dust of the soil being kicked up onto my feet, settling in between my toes. There were a few children running around and playing, but their hearts didn’t really seem to be in it. Some of them were gazing down the empty stretch of road. I tried not to wonder what they were looking for; I didn’t want to look at their eyes. They looked as if their hopes had been dashed to the ground once too often. As I carried a box of milk into the building, I noticed a small child, a little girl, just near the door. She wore cartoon shorts that fell past her bony knees and a faded orange t-shirt that was far too big for her. She was such a thin little girl, quite scrawny. Her eyes were big and dark. She wore no shoes, and when I looked closer at her feet, I could see that the skin between her toes was cracked. It looked painful. She had a look on her small face that was so sad, so solemn, appearing to belong to someone ten times her age. It didn’t belong on her. Her hair had faded as well, looking not quite black anymore. She looked like all the life was being drained out of her; like she was giving up.

She couldn’t have been much more than six years old, but she already looked like she wasn’t living anymore. Just existing.

Written by Alexis Frost

Alexis Frost is from Prince George, Canada where she attends the University of Northern British Columbia. She spent a year in Thailand when she was sixteen and went back in April 2008. Since then, she has taught herself how to speak, read and write Thai. Come back to read her next installment of Coin In Hand: Flipping the Fate of Poverty.