The December 26 tsunami killed Nai Nai's wife and only daughter. Since he is just a Burmese migrant worker, not a foreign tourist, Nai Nai will never be on the Thaksin administration's guest list for the tsunami commemorative events. Nor will Matoo and her husband. They lost all three of their children to the killer wave. But even 10 months after the tsunami, the couple, like other Burmese migrant workers, are still unable to retrieve the bodies of their loved ones for a proper religious send-off.
Since many are illegal workers, they fear arrest and forced deportation if they turn up at the morgue to reclaim the bodies.
Other lost their documents with the waves, so they too have the same fear.
Matoo and her husband are more fortunate in this regard. TAG, an advocacy group for migrant worker's rights, helped them dig through the piles of registration records to prove they are not illegal so they finally got their registration cards re-issued. But the problem does not end there.
The Thai authorities require the relatives to produce documents from their governments to reclaim the bodies. But the Burmese government views its own people as criminals for crossing the border illegally.
So how on earth can they get the necessary paper to get the bodies of their lost loved ones?
How on earth can Matoo arrange a proper send-off for her children?
As the government is frantically trying to invite the relatives of the foreign tourists killed by the tsunami, offering them free tickets and accommodation, in the hope of using their presence in the commemorative events to shore up the country's tourism image, the Burmese migrant workers remain as invisible as ever.
Remember what happened after the tsunami? While aid was readily forthcoming to foreign tourists, which impressed people the world over with Thai generosity, the Burmese migrant workers were slapped with looting allegations that forced them to flee to the mountains to endure starvation and sickness in hiding.
And although they suffered the same tragedies and needed the same help as the Thais and foreign tourists after the tsunami, they never received state help. Worse, they were arrested and deported on sight.
Frightened, many of them chose to return home to recover from the shock and the losses. Many have since returned. Their explanations are similar; there's no work at home. And despite the fear of deportation and future tsunami threats, at least they can work and be sure to get their next meals here.
They are working as illegal aliens, though, because the authorities stopped re-issuing registration cards to those who survived the tsunami and refuse to register newcomers, or returnees. Consequently, they are subject to constant extortion or slave-like treatment.
For the women, they face greater risks. Last week, for example, a young Burmese woman at Koh Lak was raped by a Thai man who reportedly offered to pay her 2,000 baht in damages. Fearing forced deportation, the girl might have no other choice.
Before the tsunami and since, these ethnic migrant workers still suffer the same oppression, thanks to our ultra-nationalist history that makes us see the Burmese as the atrocious people who burned down our ancient capital of Ayutthaya.
It does not really matter if they are Mons, Karens, Kachins, Shans or of other ethnic groups. As long as they come from Burma, we lump them all together as the cruel, untrustworthy Burmese who deserve to be treated inhumanely.
Of the 120,000 registered workers in the six tsunami-hit provinces, some 7,000 were in the worst hit areas of Takua Pa and Koh Lak in Phangnga.
No one knows how many of them perished, but many believe the final toll to be close to 1,000.
We cannot escape our karma. With time, the bodies of foreign tourists will eventually all be reclaimed. But the bodies of those Burmese migrant workers will remain behind to haunt us with our own cruelty for a long, long time to come.