Gatekeeper

By Thanabhorn Khemaluk       

A "sala" marks the centre of the campus of Ramkhamhaeng University in Bangkok.

When the elevator door opens, a short, chubby man in a black suit steps outside. The taller young man in the dark green uniform, holding a big document bag, is following him closely. They are going to the parking lot, passing other people. The young man moves the barrier out of the lane. Then he is waiting until the car glides away.

It is a routine that Prayoon Panjungharn has to do in the evening since he moved to work at the building of the Institute of International Studies of the Ramkhamhaeng University in Bangkok two days ago. He has just accompanied the director to the car. It is a routine that the 27-year-old man will do for many days to come.

Working during daytime, twelve hours per day – long days that make it impossible for Prayoon to attend classes. The part-time student cannot live a life like full-time students. But it seems common practice for the full-time security guard.

Until last week Prayoon was working in the outdoor area at the Sukhothai Building. The guard didn’t even know about the Institute of International Studies building before he has started to work there. “I only used to see a group of ‘farangs’ in the canteen at lunch.”

While Prayoon went back to the 7th floor, his colleague is standing at the entrance. Aumnart Phatwongsantikul comes from Mea Hong Son, the farthest province in the north of Thailand. He has been working here for four years. “I don’t like to move the place. You have to start again. I’m already accustomed with the people here.” He grins.

The university doesn’t employ these two security guards directly. They work under the Office of Security Service, the War Veterans Organization of Thailand, which was founded in 1979 by General Yud Thephudsadin Na Ayutthaya, back then Deputy Ministry of Interior.

“In the 1970s and 1980s, civilian people like me weren’t allowed to apply for this job.” Prayoon explains. The job was previously restricted to support only the veterans and their families, but this policy has been changed by now. Prayoon considers this an opportunity for him. “It is fine by me to have a hierarchical structure like this. You just have to follow the orders. They aren’t strict, like ‘sabai-sabai’. I think that this career is honest.” Prayoon states proudly, even though some may condemn the security guard as a low-class job. “Some personnel officers treat me as if I was the university officer here.” He says.

Some of his friends choose to work for the private security company because the welfare and payment is better. Prayoon points out that working for the private companies means that the guard is usually sent to work isolated or in a small group. “Here we work in a big group. We work like brothers; we help each other when there’re any problems.” He says.

The veteran organization sends the guards to work for the governmental institutions and public universities only. Ramkhamheang University started hiring the security service about 18 years ago. The area was still not developed. The campus was surrounded by forest. “It was kind of savage. There were lots of mafia gangs.” Prayoon says.

Nowadays the mafia has gone. The situation has become peaceful. The campus is surrounded by the buildings, apartments, and stores. Countless neon lights enlighten every dark corner on the campus at night. However the security guard must show 24-hour-presence.

The only weapon that they are allowed to have is a baton. “Our primary duty is to prevent and secure, not to defend or repress.” Prayoon says. He doesn’t keep the baton with him. The security says he has never used it with the exception of his training for the job. The training program was conducted by a soldier for two weeks in the centre in Bangkok.

His colleague Aumnard says that he has never encountered any severe situations either. There has been no serious accident on the campus, only some small disputes at night. “Nevertheless there is an emergency team like Romklatanyu parking in front of the university, just in case.”

One problem, however, exists: thievery. “Normally it’s only pilfering, when there are lots of people in special occasion like the examination. Popular objects for thieves are the air conditioning compressors of the buildings,” Aumnard says. In rare cases student laptops have been stolen, Aumnard admits. “It is difficult for us to find the thief.” ‘Fire accidents, caused by short circuits, are another problem. But this is easy to notice and doesn’t cause any serious damage, Aumnard says. There has never been a dangerous moment for him while he is serving as a security guard. “Working here is sometimes boring.” Aumnard gives a laugh mingling with tiredness. The security guard has to observe for signs of crime. It requires patience. So the additional job to help arranging the parking space for a driver suits him well.

“I like his team. They have experience.” The driver Nikom Chathong, 40, says. He remembers when the other guard was substituted for Aumnard last week. The guard has gone. So the printing press manager couldn’t move his car out. He had to wait, Nikorn says.

Suddenly, two guys step closer to the copy machines. They declare that they were told to move it to the printing hall. Aumnard jumps up from his chair he had been comfortably sitting in before. He asks sharply, “Do you have the permission paper?” His voice is strong, but not harsh. Conversation time is over; he is on-duty again.
Without permission, the security guard Aumnard needs to lead the guys back to the office. This is merely a part of his long twelve hours work. It is only the middle of the day.

Copyright © Thanabhorn Khemaluk