[The accident] happened just before my birthday. I was born in April. For a woman, if her age is an odd number, we know it's not very good. She will have khro. For men, it's even numbers, and it's especially bad when his age ends in "0." Just by chance, in my case, it was my 39th birthday when I was injured.

Causation: Karma. Our karma, we don't know when we created it. Maybe we stepped on an ant or something like that, and we consider that karma. We may kill a cockroach without intending it. We may close the bathroom door, and a house lizard that was there might get caught in the door and die. We consider this to be karma that we didn't intend to create.

Once I struck a chicken. It had come up into the house. At that time we were raising chickens. It left its droppings in the house and made a mess. I struck it. And a dog, too. I broke the dog's leg. [FN13] It was stubborn; I tried to get it to leave the house, but it wouldn't leave. It liked to climb up and lie down near us in the house, on the bed. So I got a stick and hit the dog to drive it out. I think about all of these factors combined. They did play a part.

Comparing the Causes. I think [the primary cause] was the place, the tree, and also "uncle." It was uncle, because he had khro. If he had been the one standing there where I was, he probably would have been badly injured. But as it happened, he was in the car, which was steel wrapped all around him. That's why he wasn't hurt. But he, in his spirit, he was injured and sick.

Buajan ascribes her accident to numerous causes: a young girl's sexual impropriety that offended an ancestral spirit, the driver's negligence, her own negligence, a hungry ghost near the mango tree, the fact that her age was an odd number of years, and her own karma arising from bad deeds in a previous life or from harm she had inflicted during this life on a dog and chicken. Each causal explanation suggests a different framework for understanding the nature of the injury and how it should be remedied. Assigning responsibility for harm implies an assumption about what should be done next and who should do it. Buajan's narrative mentions several kinds of remedies, each connected to a different concept of social ordering and normative enforcement: the community of locality-based spirits, the realm of the supernatural, Buddhist beliefs and practices, and governmental institutions.

Remedies: The Khwan Ceremony. My mother bound my wrists [with sacred thread, a ritual to secure the khwan-soul in the body]. "Uncle" [the old man who injured her] also had a spiritual teacher who went to perform the "suut thoon" ceremony, because he was afraid that my khwan fell at that spot. He went to retrieve my khwan and then bound my wrists [with sacred thread]. He went to the spot where the accident occurred and scooped up the khwan. He did it himself and made a ball of rice, which he placed at the head of my bed. Then he bound my wrists. That helped my mind and spirit.

Remedies: Merit-making. I went to offer food to the monks. I also released some caged birds. I presented the offerings thinking that I might have some bad karma from people I'd wronged in the past. Then I performed the kruat nam ceremony [i.e., pouring water into a vessel while the monks chant]. I made these offerings for the angels, and for my father and mother who had died, and for my grandparents. Also for anyone I might have wronged or the various wandering souls who might want to eat with us but aren't able to join with us.

Remedies: Negotiating a Settlement. When I got out of the hospital, I had my husband phone "uncle" to ask him to clear the debt. But he said he had already done that when he paid us 20,000 baht. Just three or four days after my surgery, he had gone with my husband to notify the police about the accident. But they didn't actually report it. "Uncle" asked that they settle it privately at the kamnan's house [house of the subdistrict officer]. That kamnan was probably his relative. So when I got out of the hospital . after four or five days, he came to visit. It was just an ordinary visit. I talked to him about my hospital expenses. I made a point of calling him "father" or "grandfather." I said, "Grandfather, we've already spent 15,000 baht." At first he was going to "clear" all the costs, but later on he said everything was included in the 20,000 baht he had already paid, what he had called payment for the khwan-soul [khaa tham khwan]. In the end, he wouldn't agree. I told him, "Uncle, when you talked with me at the hospital, you said you would take care of everything, including my lost wages for each month. But now you're going back on what you told me." He went back on it, and he wouldn't give in.

We went to the police station. My husband spoke, because I didn't actually go there. The police officer scolded him, saying that "uncle" had informed them that he was going to settle with the complainant. So the police officer said, "If you reached a settlement, why are you coming to the police station? A settlement means that there won't be any case or conflict. You reached an agreement outside."

"Uncle" had said we didn't have to worry. As long as I was hurting, he would take care of us. He would pay 2,000 each month, or something like that. And the 20,000 was khaa tham khwan. That's what he said.

Later, I went to talk with him. I said I didn't want to make a case out of it, but he had to understand my situation. I had to stop working, and the hotel didn't pay my salary. I said, you should have some sympathy for me. I don't want to sue, but I wasn't the one in the wrong. I could sue for everything. He said, "Oh." I really wasn't asking for much. For my lost wages I asked 15,000 baht. That was just for lost wages, but that didn't include the costs for my injured leg. We didn't really finish talking, when he offered me 10,000 baht. So I got 30,000 altogether. There was no fine, because I never filed a complaint. If I had, he would have been fined.

Remedies: Signing the Release. At first I thought I might go ahead with this case, but I didn't want any more problems. I'd had enough. Let it end there. That day I went to sign at the lawyer's office. We went to "uncle's" lawyer. He made a document. [Uncle] was afraid that I might sue him later. I signed to show that I had received the money. and I wouldn't bring any civil or criminal case.

Buajan sees little connection between law and justice. For her, fortune and misfortune arise primarily because of destiny, karma, ghosts, and spirits. The person who seeks justice should not rely on law or lawyers. Buajan's attention to ritual and the propitiation of spirits provide the best guarantee of security for the future and for the redress of past harms. Buajan does not completely ignore the use of law or legal institutions. She does remind "Uncle" that she could pursue a lawsuit if she were so inclined the only such reference among all the injury narratives in the entire research project. Yet Buajan regards law and legal institutions with fear. For her, "law" involves powerful and potentially dangerous government officials. Law, she says, is slippery and tends to favor the rich and powerful:

Whenever I've used the law, I've gotten nothing. The police, for example. Law and the police. The law is loose and leaky. That's how it is here. Especially if we're poor, we can't rely on the police for help. Money is more important. That's why I don't rely on the law; I rely on myself. For Buajan, the legal advantages enjoyed by rich and powerful individuals contrast sharply with the disadvantages of those like herself who are poor but honest: "Today, people who tell the truth, honest people, can't really receive justice. Now people like to lie and cheat."

Buajan concedes that she might have pursued her legal claim against the elderly driver who injured her, but the release she signed prevented her from doing so. It is impossible to know whether she really would have pursued the matter if she had not signed the release. Her general distrust of the legal system and the unreceptiveness of the police to her claim suggest that it is unlikely. Nevertheless, she considers the signing of the release to be another indication of the ways in which rich people can make the law work for them. For ordinary people like herself, justice should not be sought in the law or in legal institutions.

Receiving Justice. I didn't receive justice. I went to see the duty officer at the police station. He said he wouldn't take the complaint. He wouldn't do anything for me. He advised me to go and arrange a settlement first. I could always file a complaint later. And don't ask for too much. That's what he told me, even though I wasn't the one in the wrong. I felt that I couldn't rely on him. If I tried to bring a case, he might retaliate. I really came out badly, especially because I was a person with no resources. When I thought about it, it wasn't worth it, so I never filed a complaint. Even if I had, he could have turned it all around and made me out to be the one in the wrong. [FN14]

It's probably because of money. I don't know, I don't know the exact reason. Because these people, the police, they must have been related to "uncle." His relatives were kamnan and police officers and subdistrict councilors. They help each other out. But I don't know anyone. Who would help me?

No matter how holy the law is, I have no hope of using it. I don't stand on the law, I stand on my own two legs, even though one of them is broken.

[FN13]. Significant because Buajan's own leg was broken in the accident.

[FN14]. It is unclear whether this encounter with the duty officer occurred prior to her negotiations with "uncle" or after she had signed the release at the lawyer's office.