The Scourge of Burma - Part 3----------Hlaoo1980 blogspot-com-au

1. I am a Burmese exile aimlessly wandering in this imperfect world. Here are my essays about Burma and anything
else I feel like writing about. And some translated works of selected Burmese authors. Bridging Burma to the world
this Blog is more of a Politically-Oriented Literary Blog than a Plain News Blog or a Sophisticated Thoughts Blog.
And Please Forgive me for using some photos and videos from Internet without asking permission first, SORRY.
Hla Oo's Blog
HOME Ambushed On Ledo Road Burma In Limbo Daw Moe Swe: Red matron Scourge of Burma Second Lt. Hnin Aung
Rice Riots to Race Riots Song For Irrawaddy Aung Moe and Amy Midnight Searches 1978 Opium War Major Kyaw San?
Burma's Killer Highways First Anglo-Burmese War Tha-din-gyut in Mawgyun Shans' 1962 Federal Mu Burma's Land Reform
General Min Aung Hlaing Islamic Genocide of Buddhists Irrawaddy Waters and Ne Win's Gold Trees Chun Doo-Hwan Bombing
Friday, October 2, 2015
The Scourge of Burma - Part 3
December 1989 and it was last Saturday
before Christmas when they found Jason’s
body in the bathtub inside a cheap motel
room in Sydney.
According to the local tabloid he
checked into the motel on
Parramatta Road the night before,
injected himself all the bought-
heroin, filled the tub to the rim, got
in, and cut both wrists with a
disposable razor blade. When the
motel people found him the water was all blood red and he was stone cold dead.
Jason was a 22 year old Australian of English descent originally from a small country town
of Waga Waga about 700 kilometres south-west of Sydney. He was my former workmate and
my only dear friend in the whole wide Australia. He was not that tall, but broad, pale, and
skinny built with slight curls of blonde hair on his head.
With a dimple on his left cheek he had an almost innocent look when he smiled but he
frequently showed his disturbed-side when he was annoyed or angry. He came from a
broken family and sometimes he jokingly claimed he was abused both physically and
sexually.
We were working together as lowly servicemen for the service centre of a major European
car-dealership in a posh north-shore suburb of Sydney. Every weekday from 8 to 4 we put
the expensive cars up the hydraulic-hoists, change the oils and replace the filters, re-inflate
and re-balance the wheels, rotate the tyres, replace the worn brake-pads, and wash and
polish the cars as the final touch after other mechanics have done the tune-ups and other
jobs on the cars. Easy job and money was not that bad. At least three hundred bucks a week
in the pocket with regular overtimes. A bit more than the minimum wage then.
Provisional Mechanic
Since the day I landed in Sydney I knew things were going to be tough as the whole country
was in a severe recession. For nearly three months I tried to find a proper engineering job
through the newspapers’ job advertisements.
I had no money and I was basically surviving on the fortnightly dole of 240 dollars and it
was only just enough to pay the rent. So I decided to take any job and one day I went to the
local CES(Commonwealth Employment Services) office and asked for an interview. It turned
out to be my lucky day.
The middle-aged female government official quickly read my resume and simply said my
mechanical engineering degree from Burma was not acknowledged here as a degree after
referring her thick handbook of Educational Qualifications for Migrants.
According to the Australian government my 6 years mechanical engineering
degree from RIT was only equivalent to a 2 years technical high school diploma
here. I was bloody lucky the same bloody government issued me a permanent
Search
Search This Blog
Total Pageviews Since 10Oct 2010
1 0 8 7 4 1 5
Please click the image topreview or buy
My"Song For Irrawaddy" on Amazon.com
British Muslim Doctor
Charged for Girl's
Genital Mutilation
(News article direct
from the DAILY
TELEGRAPH UKon 21
March 2014.) Type of FGMdone on
Muslim girls in London. London’s
Whittingto...
My First Post
Helloand good day toall my readers! I
10Most Popular Posts This Week
converted by Web2PDFConvert.com

2. resident visa as a skilled-migrant based on the same bloody degree from Burma.
She then looked into her computer and said there were some jobs for a mechanical-minded
person and asked if I could work on cars as I claimed to be a mechanical engineer. I said yes
and she then called the company and then wrote down the address for me to go for an
interview and wished me good luck.
I went there and the workshop manger liked me and gave me the serviceman job straight
away. But here in overly-regulated Australia, where even the disgruntled taxi drivers are
forced to wear a uniform by a draconian law, anyone working on cars in any capacity needs
an appropriate license.
So the manager sent me to the MVRIC (Motor Vehicle Repair Industry Council) office and
they issued me the Provisional Mechanic Licence for a year with an attached condition that I
must pass a certain mechanic test to gain a real mechanic license. That’s how I got my first
grand job in Australia. A provisional mechanic cum serviceman.
Sydney then was very different from the Sydney now. Immigration was not that high and
there were not that many Asians or middle-eastern people in Sydney like now. The inner
western suburb of Ashfield where I lived then was still a white suburb, not yet the second
Chinatown of Sydney.
I was the only Asian in our big workshop and there were a couple of Lebanese servicemen
who were always derogatorily called camel drivers. Most people could not pronounce my
first name and whenever they saw me eating rice they accused me of eating worms and
pretended to spew all over me in the lunch room.
Heroin Addict
From the beginning Jason was always nice to me and he explained me things or two about
Australians and taught me the useful slangs like Fair-Dinkum and Fagget and Fuck-Off. I
helped him to write the service sheets as he was basically illiterate and didn’t even know how
to spell mechanic-related words like Diesel Engine and Reciprocating.
Whenever I wrote some words down for him he always cheerfully said I was a good speller.
But I could still sense the basic disbelieve in his pale blue eyes that I an Asian immigrant
could write better English than him a true blue Aussie. But he always came to me instead of
others as if he didn’t want the Aussie mob to know he had difficulties in the writing
department.
He drove a beat-up Datsun 120 Y and regularly gave me a lift to the Town Hall Station in the
city on his way to Kings Cross, the notorious red light district of Sydney. I had no car in
Sydney for almost six months as I needed to get a driver license first.
At first I didn’t know the purpose of his frequent trips to the Cross. Sometimes once or twice
a week especially on our pay-day, Thursdays. Then one afternoon after work he asked me to
come along to the Cross as he wanted me to buy 10 dollars worth of gas for his car after his
business there as he was short of cash then. I agreed and we drove to the Cross first.
He turned left into the Victoria Street from the
main Darlinghurst Road and then turned right
into a small laneway by the rear of the train
station there and stopped the car by a small
black door. He jumped out, pushed open the
black door which led to a dark stair case, and
quickly disappeared inside. After a few
minutes he rushed back out, jumped back into
the car, and we sped away.
On the way to the Servo by the
Woolloomooloo Wharf he suddenly asked me
if I’ve ever been to the notorious Golden
Triangle. He knew I was from Burma but he never said anything even remote about heroin
before. But that afternoon he confessed his stupid addiction and all the problems he was
having then. He even showed me the small foiled-packet of dirty heroin he’d just bought
from the Cross.
Two hundred dollars worth of shit but just enough for only four hits he said. It was so dirty
looking it rather looked like a little lump of brown palm-sugar powder than a fluffy white
powder I heard about so many times back home. They cut the heroin with some powders
and made it look so dirty he said. You spend all your pay on this shit, what you live on for
the rest of the week I asked. I don’t eat that much and I live in a tiny hostel room he
answered and it depressed me. That’s why he was so skinny and always dreamy I guessed.
Once I knew his desperate situation I tried to avoid him in the workshop and stop accepting
the rides as I really hated the addicts. And he immediately noticed my disgust. But he still
came to me often as if he badly needed a friend. Then one day he got into a real shitty
trouble at the workshop.
have been writing about
my birth country
Burma for the New
Mandala blog hosted by
ANUin Austra...
My Last Post (I'm Taking
A Short Break!)
(Farewell and
goodbye tomy readers
loyally following this
blog over the years.) In
the early 1980s one of my cousins was
i...
Malaysian Airline’s
MH370 Crashed In
Burma Waters?
(News article and photos
from the EMG & NY Post
on March 13, 2014.) US
Navy Destroyer USS Kidd in Indian
Ocean. Burmese authori...
Burmese Prostitutes of
Maesot across
Myawaddy (2)
(This post is translation
of news article from the
Myanmar Express
Group.) A busy street in Mae Sot
(2012). This was what KoAung...
Somalia Islamists
Stoning A Young Girl To
Death
(The article direct from
the BARE NAKEDISLAM
on 10 May 2014.) Did
your Somali Muslim neighbor stone
anyone todeath before getting a...
Muslim Invasion Of
Europe Welcomed By
Angela Merkel
(Guy Milliere’s article
direct from the
GATESTONE
INSTITUTE on 22October 2015.)
Million Muslims have landed in
Europe and still comin...
Arrakan Boiling with
Anti-Islamic Fever?
(This post details the
ugly anti-Islamic and
anti-Bengali race-riots
in Arrakan triggered by
a brutal rape and murder of a
Burmese village-g...
Burma’s Yaba Addicts
(2): Soe Myat Thu Zar’s
Confession
(Translated article
direct from the Opposite
Eyes Blog on December
1, 2013.) Soe Myat Thuzar the
Princess of Ads. In year 2008 So...
The Scourge of Burma -
Part 4
After Jason’s death Ileft
the workshop and
managed toget a proper
engineering job as the
production supervisor for an
engineering compa...
converted by Web2PDFConvert.com

3. Five Dollar Theft
It was just before lunch time. I was working on a sports car on the hoist and Jason was
washing a finished sedan in the wash-bay. I saw the workshop-manger talking to him and
then saw two heavy-set men rushing out of the manager’s office at the front and running
towards them standing just outside the wash-bay at the back of our long workshop.
The two were plain-cloth policemen as I could see the guns on their belts as they ran. They
started searching the pockets of Jason’s overall and appeared to find something. The two
detectives then led Jason back into the office and later they put him into the back of a police
paddy-wagon and took him away. We were shocked but I simply assumed it might be a drug-
related arrest. It was not. I found out later in the lunch-room.
The workshop-manager came in and told us the whole pathetic story. Small money and some
valuables like expensive sunglasses from the serviced vehicles had been reported missing
far too many times and finally the management had decided to call the police. Cops then did
a thorough job planting a five-dollar-note a few times in the cars and checking the notes after
a mechanic or serviceman had done a job on the car. And they found the notes always
missing after Jason but no one else.
So today they planted a marked fiver in the glove-box of that sedan and watched and
checked as the car had progressed through various mechanics and servicemen including
me. After Jason the manager checked it again and found the note missing. So he signalled the
waiting detectives and they searched Jason’s overall pockets and found the marked five-
dollar note.
They charged him with petty-theft and put him in the Silverwater remand jail. He had no one
and also no money to post the bail. After more than three months his case came to a court
and the sympathetic magistrate sentenced him three months exact for stealing a fiver from a
car, and he was immediately released as he had been inside that long.
While he was languishing in the Silverwater jail I tried to look for him in the Cross once as I
didn’t know he was still in jail and I was missing my only friend here. There I ran into
another addict, a pretty young girl with curly blonde hair and pale blue eyes, just like Jason.
Addict Prostitute
It was about 9 in the Saturday evening
and the Cross was getting busier and
rowdier as the night got older. All the
loud touts in ill-fitting black suits right
in front of the bright-neon-lit strip
clubs were working at their aggressive
best to lure the wandering blokes like
me into their overly-priced strip-joints.
I was just sauntering aimless on the
kerbs of the Darlinghurst Road vaguely
hoping to see Jason among the crowd when I saw the cops trying to subdue a couple of
young disorderly drunks near the Subway Station.
As I stood there holding a Foster stubby in one hand and watching the cops and the drunks,
the aggressive copper woman with extendable truncheon in one hand rudely ordered me to
move on. Instead of moving on I just backed away a couple of steps just to please her. And
there I stepped on the feet of a young woman. Sorry, I turned round and apologized and
there she was. A pretty Aussie girl smiling at me.
She might be only 19 or even 18, with her short blonde curls and pale blue eyes she
immediately reminded me of Jason. No worries, she said. What she whispered after
surprised me though. Are you looking for good time, big boy?Not really, why do you ask?
It will cost you 70 bucks, I have a place nearby she said. She astounded me. She was pretty
and tall and curvy but too skinny for my liking and I wasn’t really after the paid-sex. But I
was slightly drunk and I was suddenly horny and I never had had sex with a white woman
before.
She had a tight jean and a white T-shirt with no bra underneath. And I could see her nipples
through at close-up and they made me excited. I have only 50 bucks, I tried to haggle. Fine,
just follow me, she said and turned round and walked towards the Station entrance.
Reluctantly, I followed her into the Station. She didn’t go down to the trains but took the
way-out to the rear exit and headed for the same laneway where Jason once bought his
heroin packet. She then walked up to the same black door and pushed open the door. I was
alarmed but I still followed her onto the dimly lit stairs.
She stopped at the landing and asked me to give 20 bucks to the old man standing guard in
dark there. For the room, mate, she said. I doled out a twenty note and she continued
upstairs. She turned left into the corridor and pushed open the first door. The tiny
windowless room was well lit and a double bed nearly filled the room and the linen was dirty.
Burmese Prostitutes of
Maesot across
Myawaddy (2)
(This post is translation
of news article from the
Myanmar Express
Group.) A busy street in Mae Sot
(2012). This was what KoAung...
Giant Python Killed at
Myit-sone Dam Site
(This article is partly
from the Kachin News
Group Web site.) In the
photothe dead giant
snake was being lifted by a backhoe
arm at Jum B...
Dark Parkway
(The true ghost story of
notorious Wakehurst
Parkway in Sydney’s
Northern Beaches.)
Narrabeen of Northern
Beaches. IUSEDtodr...
Anti-Chinese Muslim
Riot in Singapore’s Little
India
(News article and photos
direct from
BLOOMBERG on
December 9, 2013.) Bangladeshi and
Indian Muslim rioters attacking police.
Singap...
Vicious Lebanese-
Muslim Crime-Gangs
Running Sydney?
(This post is former
Sydney police detective
Tim Priest’s article “The
Rise of Middle Eastern Crime in
Australia” from The Mackenzie Insti...
Arrakan Boiling with
Anti-Islamic Fever?
(This post details the
ugly anti-Islamic and
anti-Bengali race-riots
in Arrakan triggered by
a brutal rape and murder of a
Burmese village-g...
Burma’s Yaba Addicts
(2): Soe Myat Thu Zar’s
Confession
(Translated article
direct from the Opposite
Eyes Blog on December
1, 2013.) Soe Myat Thuzar the
Princess of Ads. In year 2008 So...
1978 Opium War in
Golden Triangle (1)
(Concise translation of
Chapter-1 from Thaung
Wai Oo’s “My Opium
Operations”.) Thaung
Wai Oo's M...
French Charlie Hebdo
Runs Mohammed
Cartoons
(This post is direct from
THE INQUISITRon 19
10Most Popular Posts All Time
converted by Web2PDFConvert.com

4. Newer Post Older PostHome
Posted by Hla Oo at 8:19 AM
She took off the T-shirt and asked me the fifty. I handed her the note and she immediately
left the room topless with her perky round breasts exposed. Take off your clothes, she said
on the way out. I took off sneakers and my jeans and underpants but kept the flannel on. It
took her more than half an hour to come back in and the long wait made me anxious and
worry.
She smiled wearily at me and immediately laid her back down on the dirty bed dangling her
legs from the edge. Her eyes were well closed when she told me to take off her jeans and do
whatever I like. I almost undid the top buttons of her jeans. But then I saw the needle marks
on the inside of her left forearm. There were so many and the last and most recent one still
had a drop of blood oozing. It disgusted me.
Here I with my dick hanging out and she was almost asleep with a dreamy look on her pale
young face. She just had a hit of heroin and my fifty dollars was just enough for the shit. She
was now drifting on the heroin-induced clouds and letting a complete stranger do whatever
he wants on her. She was selling her young body dirt cheap to any John or Jamal or Jiang on
the streets of dangerous Cross so that she could just inject that 50 bucks worth of dirty shit
originated from the jungles of my Burma into her veins every single day.
Disgusted, I put my jeans and sneakers back on and left the room.
A week later on Friday just-released Jason showed up at the workshop to pick up his last
pay-envelope. He came into the lunchroom and chatted to us for a while before the Manager
came in and asked him to leave and never to come back here. On his way out he jokingly
yelled back to our good-byes. Me a fag now with HIV, I got raped inside!And we laughed.
That night he booked into the motel on Parramatta Road and next day he was found dead.
**********************************
The Scourge of Burma - Part 2
The Scourge of Burma - Part 4
Recommend this on Google
September 2012.) In a
move that is certain todraw anger
from the Muslim community, F...
My Last Post (I'm Taking
A Short Break!)
(Farewell and
goodbye tomy readers
loyally following this
blog over the years.) In
the early 1980s one of my cousins was
i...
▼ 2015 (96)
▼ October (13)
Islam Really Does Need Reform: ISIS
Is A Death Cul...
Sweden Close ToCollapse Due To
Muslim Invasion
Muslim Invasion Of Europe
Welcomed By Angela Merke...
The Scourge of Burma -Part 4
Muslim Obama Bans Pork From US-
Prison Menus
Twilight Of Angela Merkel’s
Chancellorship?
It Was Islamic Terrorism. Why
Won’t We Admit It?
Ahmed Ended “If You See
Something, Say Something”
Radicalized By Hizb-ut-Tahrir At
Parramatta Mosque...
Parramatta Mosque Raided By
Police After HQAttack...
Allah Commands Muslims Chop The
Clit Of Little Gir...
Another Iranian-Muslim-Terrorist
Attack In Sydney
The Scourge of Burma -Part 3
► September (11)
► August (14)
► July (11)
► June (11)
► May (14)
► April (16)
► March (6)
► 2014 (237)
► 2013 (292)
► 2012 (206)
► 2011 (104)
► 2010 (26)
Blog Archive
Follow byEmail
Email address... Submit
converted by Web2PDFConvert.com

5. Simple template. Powered by Blogger.
converted by Web2PDFConvert.com