A Monk’s Airport Predicament

It was year 2000. I, as a very young monk, travelled with a group of monks and laypeople to Thailand. Almost all of them left after a week, while I stayed for a month. On my way back alone, while transiting through Bangkok’s airport, I found myself in a predicament.

After long hours of waiting for my connecting flight, I finally got my boarding pass at the check-in counter. When I got to the security checkpoint, I showed the official there my boarding pass, and she asked, “Airport tax?”

“Airport tax?” I asked in return.

“Please pay at the airport tax counter and get a coupon.”

“Uh-oh….” Anxiety began to rise within me.

I told the nice lady nicely that I didn’t have any money, hoping she would think, “Oh, silly me. He’s a monk. He’s not suppose to have money,” and let me through.

It didn’t work. The matter was plain and simple: no money, no entry.

She suggested that I return to the check-in counter. “Ah, good idea,” I thought, since I had no idea what to do.

Back at the counter, I explained my situation to the same lady who had issued my boarding pass. She seemed genuinely concerned and suggested that I borrow money from another Malaysian passenger on my flight, and repay him later in Malaysia. As a Vinaya-abiding monk, I wasn’t comfortable with that.

I told her I had a contact in Bangkok who could help. I just had to give her a call. (Actually, that might not have worked. It was 5:30PM, peak traffic time, and Bangkok was notorious for traffic jams!)

Then I remembered: I don’t have any money to make the call! When I revealed to her my sudden realisation, the lady and a colleague of hers began searching their pockets for coins.

Just then, a Malay man behind me asked, “What’s the problem?” (For context: Malays are Malaysia’s majority ethnic group and almost 100% Muslim.)

Again, I explained my situation as a monk.

“You’re Malaysian?” he asked, looking me straight in the eyes.

“Yes,” I replied, and added, “In fact, I’m from Subang Jaya,” so that I sound more convincing.

“We’re also from Subang Jaya!” he referred to himself and some people behind him.

He then whipped out his wallet, and said, “I’ll pay for you.”

I was overjoyed!

Just then… a woman behind him grabbed his arm and said, “Bang! Buat apa?” (Dear! What are you doing?”)

I thought, “Oh, no, no, no. Please, please don’t do this to me.”

“Dia tak ada duit balik Malaysia ni (He’s got no money to go back to Malaysia),” said the man who’s most probably her husband.

She stared at me suspiciously, but (thankfully) gave up stopping her husband.

Phew… That was close.

Just as he was about to give me the money, I said, “I can’t accept the money.”

“Then how?”

“We can go to the airport tax counter. You pay and I’ll take the coupon.”

“Okay.”

I thank the man and praised his generosity.

“Countrymen,” he said.

The two check-in ladies smiled in relief, and so did I.

That’s the first time in my monkhood where a non-Buddhist performed dāna (an act of giving) for my benefit. May all blessings be his. Sādhu! Sādhu! Sādhu!