January 17, 2006
Last two days in Mae Sot
Friday morning I went on a self guided tour of town to see the market and a failed attempt to locate the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (Burma) museum. The market itself was somewhat entertaining and an interesting with such items for sale as flowers, turtles, brooms, shells, and two frogs in a bag. After wondering around aimlessly for a while I settled into Baifern Bar & Restaurant again for lunch and then went back to the Green Guesthouse for a nap. Earlier that morning Brittany had taken off for a refugee camp for some meetings and was planning to return the next day. The previous evening, her friend Amanda offered to take me out again to Kong’s Bar, which I naturally agreed. That evening I met many interesting people, including David Arnott, an online librarian and photographer for the Burma Peace Foundation (www.burmalibrary.org), and many other friendly people working for various NGOs in the region like the Francophile Aide Medicale Internationale, a.k.a AMI.
On Saturday Brittany was supposed to be back from her trip but by the late afternoon it is clear something has come up. So I head off for the Mae Sot Business Center to do some email, Boots-n-All catch up, and Internet work (Marc and Child’s Dream had a little emergency which I was able to rectify after an hour or so.) There I bumped into Jan of Denmark. We had met earlier at the guesthouse in the morning and agreed to meet later on at Kong’s Bar. Jan is in town working on a documentary about how information gets into and out of Burma. A while later David Arnott arrives, the Burma information librarian mentioned above, and those two got along famously having mutual professional interests. For a while I chatted with Bruce, a ten year Mae Sot resident and NGO worker. The man beside him was clearly deranged and talking to both us and himself simultaneously. Around midnight I wander back to the guesthouse ready for bed.
It must be said that towns like Mae Sot, a small boarder town near a very unstable country, attracts a lot of strange characters. I met many dedicated, purpose driven, intelligent people with good intentions. But there were also some strange ones about, like the man at Kong’s passionately talking to himself. Disgustingly, this kind of town also attracts pedophiles and other nasty creatures. Repeatedly during conversations with some of the NGO-folk talk turned to ‘that older Swiss man with the old green Mercedes’, etc. My colleagues back at Child’s Dream don’t like to do anything there other than get in, do our business, and get out. After four days in town I can understand why.
Sunday morning Amanda picked me up at my guesthouse and dropped me off at the AAPP museum which I had failed to reach the previous day. It is in a small, semi-secluded house with no signage indicating its existence. I received a guided tour by a man who was previously a political prisoner in Burma at Insein Prison, the current regime’s main gulag which had been built by the British decades earlier. The museum is quit small, about 18 square meters, and has a map of Burma with dozens of know political prisons, pictures of known political prisoners both dead and alive, some graphic photos that need no description here, a scale model of Insein Prison, some shackles worn by inmates, little doll houses presenting what a prisoner’s cell consisted of, and diagrams detailing the various stress positions prisoners where made to endure. While looking at the scale model of Insein Prison my guide said “my cell was in this building” and pointed to a little box on the model. Nasty stuff. After my guided tour I was shown a twenty minute video and then let myself out.
Time to get back to Chiang Mai. I’ve not heard anything from Brittany (no mobile signals in the refugee camps) and Pam sends me a text message asking me to be back at her place (where I am staying and have the keys to) by midnight. So after a quick lunch at Canadian Dave’s shortly after noon, I grab a 50 Baht minibus ride to Tak. The journey is not comfortable at all as I’m on the aisle seat which is on a hinge—every time we take a left hand corner at speed my seat flips up to the right and dumps me into the lap of my amazingly compliant neighbor. There are two police check points along they way where they make us all get out and show our papers. Once in Tak I catch a 162 Baht air conditioned ride to Chiang Mai where I arrive around 7pm. Fortunately I sleep through most of this ride.
A 40 Baht motor bike ride back to Pam’s flat and I’m done for the day.
Posted by stu at 12:09 PM | Comments (0)
January 13, 2006
Mae Sot (again) and day trip to Myawadi, Burma
Wednesday afternoon’s five hour bus ride was pretty uneventful and I was fortunate enough to sleep through most of it. At about 5pm our air-conditioned late model 50 pax Scania couch pulls up beside the Mae Sot agricultural market and I hop out, make plans to meet Brittany at 7pm at Restaurant Baifern on Intharikhiri Road. Lucky for me, there are signs from the patch of dirt we call the bus terminal to the Green Guesthouse where I stayed before on my first trip to Mae Sot in October. After some directional confusion crossing a river I check into room #9, a clean dimly lit shoebox of a space with cold water shower for a whopping 150 Baht (US$4) per night. 
It is conveniently located 20m from the Thai police’s illegal immigrant detention center.
After settling in to my room, I head out early for the restaurant for a Leo Beer and continue reading my latest book purchase, Nickel and Dimed by Barbra Ehrenreich. At about 7:20pm Brittany shows up and we proceed to have dinner. My green vegetable curry with coconut milk (80 Baht) is decent and just about perfectly spicy. While we are sitting there many of Brittany’s friends come up to chat—this is her town and it’s a small town. Apparently, there is a little party going on at Brittany’s flat on the west end of town that she didn’t organize and so we head off there. At her home, a typical Thai-style house-on-3m-stilts we find about a dozen people underneath it finishing up dinner and drinking Leo, Chang and Singha beer. Nothing crazy, to Brittany’s relief. There I met several interesting people including a few NGO worker’s who have either heard of Child’s Dream or actually know people there—it is very pleasing to who know more about the situation in Burma and Thailand that I do, who can educate me a little bit more on what’s going on, and who like to socialize. There were also many ethnic Karen exiles from Burma who there who are learning English. I spoke with two of them, but conversation was difficult. They were very dedicated to anti-junta causes and were spitting out acronyms of various movements that just baffled the shit out of me. (There are literally dozens, if not hundreds, of anti-junta organizations in Thailand and Burma.)
The next day, Thursday, Brittany is off to work and I head for Myawadi, the town just across the boarder and the Maoei River from Mae Sot. It is about 7km to get there from the center of town so I rent a bicycle from the guesthouse for 10 Baht. (Considering my recent Luang Prabang, Laos bicycle follies, I should have known better.) After passing through the deserted Thai immigration office I head across the nearly traffic-less 80 million Baht Thai-Myanmar Friendship Bridge built in 1997. About halfway across I am intercepted by a man who intends to be my guide. The previous night over beers I had been warned about the assertive nature of the guides so take the situation in stride. We exchange names and ages. “What country are you from?” he asks. “Switzerland” I reply.
Once on the Burma side of the boarder I enter the immigration office. There the official take my passport and asks/declares that I am an American. After confirming this fact, he roars with easy mirth “GEORGE BUSH! WA HA HA HA HA HA”. I just shake my head and look at the floor smiling. This is not the place to get into international political discussions. 500 Baht later, he let’s me go with a blue post-it bearing an immigration stamp on it and the words 'USA' and 'Male' on it.
I’m free and clear. My wanna be guide is there and we start walking down the main drag. He keeps trying to steer me into stores, temples, restaurants and markets but I’m pretty much fixed on walking straight ahead until I’m out off town. All this time I’ve got the new Canon strapped around my neck like a good little tourist. I do let myself once get side tracked into entering a Wat, take some pictures and ‘donate’ 5 Baht to the guy who watches over my stolen flip-flops. (NYE at THC Roof Top, the shoe situation was a free for all…someone had nicked my 200 Baht Tevas, and I needed shoes, so I just slipped on the first pair that did not hurt.)
Myawadi is a pretty small place, but even so it is difficult to get through town due to all the recent and on going road construction work. The government is building a nice, new big highway through the center of town. At the moment, it is just a long, inconsistently leveled stretch of dirt as they make an effort to widen the road. After an hour or so we are on the outskirts of town and I am getting plenty of “why on earth are you walking out here?” looks from the locals. 
As we approach the top of a hill, my increasingly agitated ‘guide’ tells me that there is a police checkpoint over the hill. “Men with guns”, he insists. That’s warning enough for me, so I (we) turn back. It is about this time he is realizing that I’ve got my own agenda and could care less about his 'services'. He angrily tells me “I will remember you people from Switzerland! You are not good!” and he stomps off. Free at last, free at last. My only regret is that I didn’t tell him I was Canadian.
Now that I’m back in town, it seems like a good idea to take a walkabout through the side streets. There are many vendors and such, a few clothing shops with old school Singer sowing machines, and people just milling about staring at the weirdo farang who must be lost. After a while I pass a few police men sitting at a cafe้. One of them starts up a conversation and I’m playing stupid tourist and just sort of go along with it. Most of the conversation was his speech about the history of Burma: “The British were here and they fucked everything up, we’ve had some problems but that’s all over with now, and now we welcome you tourists. Enjoy your stay.” Before sending me on my way, he discretely says “If you need any help, just come to me. I can help you.” Yea, sure. Thanks for that, you fucking thug in a uniform.
Minutes later beside a mosque I’m greeted by an older man from Kashmir with pretty good English. After pleasantries he asks me if I am a trader. Instinctively I want to say something cheeky, like “yea, a few kilos of heroin would be great…got any left?” but again I stay well behaved. The man and his entourage were all very nice and they could have been just innocent gem dealers or something. Burma is world renowned for its jade.
It was about then that this deranged looking man starts following me. He really, really, wants to make eye contact with me. I keep moving and no longer stop to take pictures, smile at kids, look into stores, etc. Every two or three minutes he starts out with a seconds long slow, devious laugh/giggle straight out of the mental institution patients one sees in Hollywood movies. 30 minutes of that and I was ready to get the fuck out of Burma and so work my way to the immigration office. With no hassles I pick up my passport and head back access the Friendship Bridge and into the waiting arms of Thai immigration. It is there that the most spooky of things happens of my entire Burma day trip: The Thai immigration officer asks me for my phone number. So, I put my Swiss number down. He says, “No, your Thai mobile number.” How did he know? Paranoia sets in. I jot it down thinking that it is better to not get caught in a lie. Brittany later tells me that he just psyched me out, but I don’t know…it was strange.
Anyways, after biking back to the guesthouse I shower, change, nap and later meet Brittany and friends at Crocodile Tears Bar and Restaurant. After one round we head off for Kung's Bar for a few more drinks and then call it a night.
I’m enjoying my stay so far in Mae Sot and decide to extend it two days until Sunday.
Posted by stu at 02:32 PM | Comments (0)
October 18, 2005
Mae Sot Trip: Day Three
Last Friday morning I woke up feeling lots better. Once again, we headed off to Casa Mia for breakfast where I had the fruit, yogurt, muesli. I also purchased one of the painting that were on display for my father by ‘Oliver’. A local artist and photographer, Tim, organized a series of art classes for six of the local migrant schools and final competition. He hopes to expand the program soon to include more schools.
Afterwards we headed of for the new Hsa Thoo Lei Orphanage School construction site to check on it’s progress. Things are going quickly, belly man kicks ass. Then we headed out of town to Huay Nam Khun Nursery School to deliver clothing and toys. This was by far the most entertaining part of the trip—the children were lots of fun and we took many pictures which you can see in the picture gallery.
Needing to get an early start for ‘home’ because Daniel does not like to drive the Volkswagen in the dark on the Thai highways, we left shortly after noon for Chiang Mai. Along the way there was a farang VIP bus that we took some pictures of. He he he. The people on the bus were pretty funny about it all. At sunset I also took some interesting, blurry pictures.
Posted by stu at 05:41 AM | Comments (1)
October 17, 2005
Mae Sot Trip: Day Two
Last Thursday we woke up somewhat early and headed of for breaky at Casa Mia. I noticed my appetite was a bit weak and did not devour my café latte as usual. A bad sign, but we headed of anyways first to the Mae Tao Clinic where Child’s Dream had build a children’s ward. This cut little kid really wanted his picture taken, so I cheerfully agreed. Daniel commented that, as we passed the ‘Reproductive Health Department’, Burmese women sometimes will get their husbands drunk and take them to the clinic for the free vasectomy.
Next we were of to the BMSOH Migrant School (Boarding Middle School Orphans Hostel), another Child’s Dream construction project that was finished just a few weeks ago. 
There the students were taking their semi annual exams. We were a bit of a distraction and I hope no student suffered because of our presence. Many of the students had this yellow pasty substance painted onto their cheeks. This apparently is half art, half sun block. In fact, we saw many people all over the city with this yellow sunblock painted on.
Because of the sensitive and political nature of an event that occurred, I can’t get into details, BUT at the school was an involved anti-Myanmar military army officer who is somewhat at odds with Daniel and Marc and spookily knew we were going to be at the school and showed up himself to ‘discuss’ the situation with Daniel. We did not know who he was until two-thirds they way through our stay. For a while the man thought I was Daniel! Yikes!
After an hour of talk we headed off for lunch at a local Thai place. It was becoming apparent that I was definitely ill—headache, fever, and a general queasiness.
So the gang dropped my off at the guesthouse where I slept most the afternoon and evening with a fever that reached ~103F (39C). The rest of the gang went out to visit other projects that we are involved with. That evening I was feeling better and requested a cheese sandwich, a bag of crisps, and a pretty red head to nurse me back to health. I got salty crackers and rice soup. Hmmm…
Posted by stu at 10:03 AM | Comments (0)
Mae Sot Trip: Day One
Last Wednesday Daniel, Ursula, Tai and I jumped into the Child’s Dream Bus and headed for Mae Sot near the Burmese boarder. The itinerary included delivering 100 doses of Coartem donated by Novartis to local doctor, visiting three Child’s Dream sponsored projects for meetings, and delivering clothing and toys to a nursery school and boarding house.
The drive there was a little too exciting for my tastes. Even after popping 5mg of Valium, I was still freaking out in the back of the van while Daniel recklessly yet skillfully maneuvered the old Volkswagen around mountain highway bends at 140+kph. I even had to keep the malaria medication, which was on ice, in between my feet to prevent spillage. Very nerve racking.
Our first stop in town was the Hsa Thoo Lei Orphanage School which we are funding construction of. The foreman, know as ‘the belly man’, was organizing and overseeing the construction of the school by a few dozen migrant (illegal) Burmese construction workers. There was a blot hole in the wall for them to flee if the police showed up, but since the foreman’s (known as “The Belly Man”) brother in a copper himself this should never be a problem. The school’s students will come from the old Hsa Thoo Lei Orphanage down the road which we dropped by next to meet with nice woman who runs everything. She let us choose one card each that was hand made by one of the kids there.
Later on we checked in with The Green Guesthouse, which in located near an immigrant detention facility, a police station, and a swine slaughter house that operates after dark. Very quaint. Next stop was dinner at Casa Mia, a local culinary venue for Mae Sot-based NGO people. The plan was to meet up with an Irish woman who has been teaching for the past year in the refugee camp outside Mae Sot and is extending another two years. Unfortunately, she is still recovering from Dengue fever so we did not speak long. Daniel either knew or was introduced into every single farang group of people there on each occasion we found ourselves at Casa Mia. That first night I had two servings of the Tortellini Pomodoro, a fresh spinach and ricotta cheese delight with a tasty marinara sauce.
After dinner we, much to Ursula’s relief, went to drop the malaria medication at Dr. Elizabiza’s house, an Italian physician . (En route, Daniel backed into and toppled a concrete post leaving a scratch on the Volkswagen.) There Daniel, Dr. Elizabiza and her partner, a British physician, spent an hour or two catching up with each other and discussing Mae Sot NGO politics, the state of the refugee camps, the Burmese and Thai political situation, and other miscellaneous but interesting topics. I didn’t really contribute much, but it was very interesting to observe.
At 2300 we made our way back to the guesthouse, where Ursula later had to put in ear plugs to block out the sound of squealing pigs on their way to slaughter…and Tai’s notoriously load snoring.
Posted by stu at 09:08 AM | Comments (0)