The Old Man in the Shop and Being Yourself

“The world is your oyster.”

It has been said thousands of times to thousands of people. These and many similar cliché phrases passed around at graduation. such as “be yourself” “follow your dreams” “the world is there for your taking.” “Live a little” “Enjoy life.”

And so on and so on. But do we really mean it? In most cases, I am afraid we don’t. 

I said in most cases, because there clearly are exceptions. Those cases are when the advice is to a 15-25 year old, wealthy, upper-middle class, white person in western Europe, the United States, or Canada. When it is said to those people, people really do mean it.

If you are young and child of a wealthy person, then please by all means, go travel the world. Back pack through Europe and Asia, visit South America, paint for a year, sing, and write. 

But what if the person is poor, do we really mean it? Go live your dreams we say! But, are we thinking even as we mutter it, “there is no way that kid will ever get out of here”?

Unfortunately, this is often the case. Travelling generally is something for the wealthy, the white, and the western. Until I met the man in the shop.

I was walking with a few friends through Mae La refugee camp. Yes, the refugee camp. Mostly the people who live here are, well, refugees. Most are poor, and the conditions are, well, very poor. The sun beaming hot above, most take refuge in whatever shelter they can find, he was resting in one of the many small shops, a glass of water in front of him, enjoying the company of the shopkeepers while carrying on business as usual. He was wearing many beaded necklaces around his neck. My friend wanted to stop and talk, and I am glad she did.

He was extremely friendly, told us to have a seat, and gave us some crackers, and proceeded to tell us about his life.

The man's tatoo on his arm from when he was in Karen army

He spent his time as a KNLA soldier, fighting for Karen independence. He later came to Thailand and spent four years taking care of the elephant of the King of Thailand. From this he somehow was able to get Thai papers.

Now he travels. He has walked all over Burma and Thailand. According to him, over the past 7 years he has bathed a total of 9 times. Yes you read that right. In other words he bathes approximately 1.3 times every year. (Which now that I think of him handing me crackers is a little disturbing.)

He only consumes liquids and fruit. He carries beads and other necklaces. He is not married and never has been. He is 60 years old.  I was glad I got to shake his hand and take my picture with my fellow bachelor and traveler in the game of life.

Now his life is not the dream of many, or even any other people, but he is living it. He is living his life, he is being himself, he is content. He is doing it as a non-white, non-wealthy, and non-western Karen person.

He is Karen, poor, from Burma, and 60 years old. If he can do it then I suppose anybody can.

Moral: do not let anyone get in your way. Be yourself, and if you don’t feel you can, just think of a 60 year old Karen man in Mae Lah refugee camp who has bathed 9 times in the last 7 years and know that you can.

Want to see some Fireworks: Go to a Buddhist funeral!

Funerals and rituals surrounding death are very elaborate and interesting here in Thailand. I had the honor of attending a funeral the other day, and I am still trying to decide if I really saw what I did.

The scene: Across from the monastery is a large field with one temple like building and a pavilion. They have also set up a few more tents. The pavilion as the monks, the family of the deceased, and the VIP’s, the tent as the next group of people, then probably a few hundred more are scattered around the area sitting under the trees.

The funeral begins with a lot of formality that apparently is mostly to do with money and donations. Monks walk over to the temple, receive an envelope and walk back. Later groups of about 10 adults are called up, they walk up to the front, get an envelope, bow and give it to the people. Many Buddhist events and funerals have to do a lot with money. So, as I found out from the previous day. They give out funerals to all the people they know. Those people are expected to return the invite with cash and presents. How much cash they are expected to give is dependent on their position in the community and job. 

The large firework takes off while attendants stand by watching. 

A young funeral attendant watches as the firework shoots high into the sky

With smoke surrounding the crematorium from the fireworks, family members and friends gather to pay their last respects. 

The nicest looking casket I have ever seen in the worst looking hearse I have ever seen. 

Monks gather and attendees gather to pay final respects. 

Three young girls laughing while waiting for the final festivities

Pouring coconut water over the body before the cremation: coconut water symbolizes purity. 

The very wealthy people give large donations the next day, and I think most of what takes place is the formality of recognizing those rich people who donated a lot of money.

The money the family gets goes to a lot of things, one is to pay the monks. That is why the monks go up, supposedly funerals are quite profitable for them, the family is expected to pay them handsomely. The family is also expected to donate money to some cause, usually the local school.

After all the formalities of people going up and giving and getting money, the funeral takes on more of what we would be used to here in the Christian west. People come up to the podium and talk about the deceased and other religious themes. A granddaughter read her biography, a few sons spoke, a few monks, and I guess most important of all, the son who became a monk for the event.  That is correct, one son of the family goes through a day long ritual and becomes a monk for a day. He is the son who will accompany his mother/father to the afterlife. He spoke and cried, then a monk prayed.

At the exact moment he was finishing, I heard a huge bang, everyone had turned a huge firework had gone off. Behind the temple there was an area where many large fireworks had been set up. Right next to the coffin that was a beautiful elaborately decorated gold box being carried on a pick-up truck.

Right after the first firework went off, which was basically just a large explosion, the biggest firework I have ever seen in my life went off, it was a large circular helicopter type thing that was propelled spinning into the air. It went incredibly high then came back down with a parachute to the earth. Once this was over, everyone stood up and walked to the temple thing (really a crematorium) where they all took their flowers and incense, up the stairs and left it at the table at the top.

Simultaneously while this was happening, they were also burning the belongings of the deceased in an open fire behind the crematorium. The monks were gathered around talking and waiting, along with all the people who had yet to leave their flower offering. So the people (including myself) went up one staircase, then down the side staircase. While finishing, they also received a gift. Yes, they give out party favors at the funeral. Everyone gets one. Guess what the gift was? Aspirin! I mean if you are going to give out a party favor at a funeral, why not Aspirin! From what I understand the family is just expected to give out something, and I guess they got a killer dill on a ton of small bottles of Aspirin. So, you know, why not.

After everyone had gone through, now was the time for the last rites of the funeral. The monks are all gathered, and lined up in order. The coffin is opened and they ascend into the crematorium holding coconuts and bamboo stocks. Each one pours out the coconut water onto the body, then continue down, after the monks, the family members do the same. Many mourn and cry vigorously, in a few moments the remains of their loved one will be burned.

After all the family members had poured the coconut water, they closed the coffin and put it in the chamber. The monk then prepared to light a firework that hung a string that went straight towards a tree across the courtyard. The monk lit the firework, the firework shot across the courtyard on the string, and then let another firework on another string that shot right back to the crematorium and lit the fire to begin the cremation.

As the fire lit, simultaneously they lit up a few more huge fireworks with their crashing booms. Also, from the crematorium they threw out tons of candy and money. All the funeral goers who were gathered around, scampered and frenzied to get as much money as they could. After all this is a funeral, and what else would you do at the end other then throw out money and candy. The money was wrapped in beautiful paper flowers. After all the money had been thrown out and gathered by the mob, the group quickly dispersed. Smoke was now billowing from the top of the stack, and once people saw this, they hurried away. The only people left were a few monks and family members huddled in the pavilion, praying. 

Escape from Thailand! (part 2)

There was one difficulty with the connection in Mae Sot. That was that they knew nothing. James got a guy on a motorcycle to give him a lift for 40 bhat. A fair price, and there he was at 7 a.m. calling Oil to answer the door. She did. She was just waking up, but was not too mad.

“Hey, good morning!” He greeted her warmly. His only goal was to convince her that nothing was wrong. He was successful.

The day was spent driving around the city and seeing the sights. As it is a border town, going to the border market with Burma was in fact a must. James stood out. He was white, tall, and smiled all the time. Fortunately he was carrying a camera and looked like a tourist. He walked right by soldiers who did not say anything. As he walked through the open market, ducking his head to miss the low roof tops and hanging merchandise, he planned his getaway run if it was necessary. It never was, but he was prepared.

That night his friend gave him a ride to the bus station. He bumbled with his wallet while attempting to get the right amount to pay the fair. His friend felt so bad for the confused looking traveler that she showed him to the bus and told the attendant to look after him and help him get off at the right spot. He got on the bus, smiling, and resuming his confident pose. He felt under his shirt, it was still there. He sat confidently and happily in his seat.

The bus ride was long. Twelve hours long. Luckily he was sitting where there wasn’t enough leg room to be comfortable, otherwise he may have fallen asleep. But no, he stayed up all night long. No one could even attempt to check the contents of his gear.

At 4 a.m. he arrived. Aud was there waiting.

“Good to see you, Aud.”

“You also, James. Get in the car.”

James jumped into the old pickup truck and they began the two hour journey to the small village where he would lay low for a few days before the final push. After hours of consulting, they decided it was the best strategy to make sure everything was ready.

About an hour into the drive, James felt his shirt, and suddenly felt alarmed. It was gone.

He searched his bags, he dug through is pockets. Nothing. It was not there.

“What do we do?” Aud said.

“What do you mean, what do we do?” James roared, “This isn’t a freaking game of Crochet! We drive back and we get it.”

“What if we can’t find it.”

“We have to find it.”

Aud pulled over and quickly turned around, going as fast as the 1990 small Honda pickup truck could carry them back to the bus station from which they had just barely come. James sweat as his mind raced with possibilities of what could have happened. He went over his every move. He considered where he had gone and what he had done. Was it when he stood up? Did he drop it? Was there a someone on the bus who had noticed him feeling it and carefully placed themselves to grab it while he was getting off.

The hour drive back could not go back quick enough.  The thoughts of the ramifications of what would happen could he not find the documents began to creep into his mind, but he refused to let himself think about it. He had to find them.

His heart had nearly beat itself out of his chest by the time they pulled up to the bus station.

Aud drove around looking for a place to park, then found a place to parallel park and was carefully attempting to line up in it.

“Just pull over and stop the car already!” James screamed, losing patience. Aud came to a sudden stop.

James opened the door, and there his bag tumbled toward the concrete. James reached out and grabbed it before it hit the ground. He raised it to show Aud, in near disbelief.

“I guess it was between the door and the seat.” James said quietly smiling.

Aud rolled his eyes as they turned around and made their way back to the village. He had woken up at 2 a.m. to be there on time. It was now 6, and they still had two hours till they got home. “At least the documents are safe.”

“Indeed.” James smiled, and they both laughed.

To be continued… 

Escape from Thailand! (Part 1)

This is, as they say in Hollywood, based on a true story. Names and some details have been changed to protect the innocent, as well as to make it sound like a British spy novel. Not that I know at all what a British spy novel should sound like, as I have never read one, I have however watched multiple episodes of "bits of Fry and Laurie" which I feel more than qualifies me.

“You sure its safe Dhay?”

“I’m telling you James, if you are not sleeping warmly in a warm bed in Laos Sunday, I’ll personally arrange your funeral , and I’ll hold it in Laos.”

“The chances are that good eh?”

“Either way, you’ll be resting in Laos on Sunday.”

“Well I don’t like, I don’t like it one bit, but I guess that doesn’t matter much.”

“It sure doesn’t, you better learn to like it. These documents are not getting to Laos any other way. And you know, what that means.”

“Yes, Dhay, I do, and I shudder to think about it. I don’t even want to mention the atrocities that will ensue, because, who knows I may jinx the whole endeavor.”

“That you would James, so I better not hear a word of it. Be ready. Tomorrow morning, 5 a.m. You will meet Klo in front of the dormitory. He will guide you to the river. From there you will meet the covered truck on the road which will take you to Mae Sot. After that, it is up to you.”

It was 6 p.m. and darkness already covered the camp. Thick clouds threatened rain at any moment. Inside the bamboo-walled house with the metal roof, one light bulb lit the solitary man in the solitary bedroom. He sat, gathering and organizing his things, deciding what of everything would be most important, and what he could leave behind.

“Matches?” he said to himself. “Yes, yes of course you idiot. You never know when you might need to light an emergency fire, or cook a wild squirrel. This small box could be a life saver. And who knows, a bloke might need a light for his smoke.”  He chuckled to himself at the thought, because there was no one else to chuckle to.

“Knife? Of course James, what do you think this is, girl scout camp? A tourists excursion? Ha!” He smiled once more coyly. Just then, a gad fly landed right on his lips. “Phew!” he spit towards the wall. “Darn these flies, if they do not kill me from giving me some lung-eating disease, they will be the death of me through shear annoyance. Darn them!”

With those words the first drip of rain hit the metal roof. James turned toward the open air of the two foot gap between the top of the bamboo wall and the metal roof. Through it he could see the tree outside, and the towering mountain behind, and in front of it appeared a sheet of rain. The pounding on the metal roof drowned out all other sounds. The croaking of the jungle frogs, the hum of the crickets were suddenly no more. Nothing could make a sound above the howling of rain.

With the rain hundreds and thousands of bugs, decided to take up residence inside as well, swarming around the solitary light bulb.

“Blast” I can’t open my eyes without one of these buzzards trying to take up space in it!” Swatting and trying to move away from the swarm. He quickly stuffed whatever else he thought necessary into the bag and then jumped under his mosquito night, where he huddled for protection.

“Five a.m. always comes quicker than you think. That is what my uncle used to say. Or maybe I have just said it. Who knows?” And indeed it seems to be the truth, it always does come quicker than you think. And this morning was no exception. At 4:45, what he felt was all to soon, he heard the ringing of his alarm.

“I must have done the time wrong, there must be an hour or two more.” He grabbed his phone, and checked the time. “Dang” He had in fact been right, which also, unfortunately made him wrong. It was mere moments until go time. “5 minutes, he said to himself, 5 more minutes of rest, I’ll wake up.”

He didn’t, Not on time at least. Suddenly he found himself shaking himself and reaching for his phone. “4:56” Blast, I nearly fell completely asleep! He jumped up, ran to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and hurriedly prepared his room. He stuffed the last few things into his bag, then left locking his door, and hiding the key. “No need to carry this with me. One more thing to lose.” He said as he slid it under the brick.

The night was dark and not as cool as he had hoped. It had rained all night, and was still drizzling, but there was a humid warmth in the air. The trail was filled with mud and puddles, making the going trickier than the treacherous journey already was.

“Klo! Klo!” Are you up? Klo?”

“Good morning Thara.”

“Have you seen Klo? Can you go wake him up and tell him it is time to go.”

The young man nodded his head. And disappeared into the dorm room.

James looked around into the darkness. A few distant lights, but that was it. It was near total darkness, until moments later Klo stumbled out of the dorm room.

“Okay, let’s go. “

“Oh, is he coming with?”

“Yes, we both go. One in front, one behind.”

James looked at both questioningly, and then said, “Okay.” The questioning look would have had more of the desired effect had it not been pitch black outside, and couldn’t see his face.

The path was dark and filled with puddles and mud, dogs were stumbled upon unsuspectingly, and chickens scampered out of the way. Most the homes were as silent, as they themselves were silent and dark. Except a few which were filled with early morning Buddhist chanting.

The group of three walked by inconspicuously in the night, Klo in front, James in the middle, and the friend behind, lighting James’s feet.  There were a few people they crossed, at which times the lights went off and they kept walking. They were never suspected.  

They came to the final turn. A large building, the lights were on, shining light into the courtyard they had to cross. Klo walked to the edge and looked. There was no one. Quickly they ran across the empty courtyard and hopped over the fence, where they met the river.

“It seems louder than normal.”

“Yes, there is the white bridge.”

“It is very high. I don’t think we can cross.”

“Dang it Klo! We can’t cross? This package has important documents; I need go get to Laos! This is not game of Pick-Up-Sticks!”

“I know, that is why we can’t cross. Everything would get wet, we would probably get washed down!  This is serious! There are men over there with guns! Real life guns, if they find us, who knows what could happen!”

“Get out of the way, I’ll be the judge of that.” James pushed Klo to the side, nearly knocking him down, and stepped toward the river. He looked at the raging stream. He had crossed it before when most of it was hardly even ankle deep, now the bottom was not visible anywhere. The deepest parts were likely to be above his chest. He breathed heavily, took a final look and gritted his teeth. He then turned back to Klo.

“Dang it Klo, you are right. We can wait one more day, and only one more day. We will have to come again tomorrow. We leave at 5 a.m.

We took the 20 minute walk back, just as we had come. It was lighter by then, more trafficked and we were more depressed. One day of waiting in the heat.

The day creaked by like ice sliding down sandpaper on no greater than a 5 degree incline. The temperature rose to nearly humanly unbearable temperatures. This was lucky, because if the ice did not melt, there is absolutely no way that ice would slide down that small of an incline!

The evening mirrored the one the previous night, except there was no rain. There were clouds, and even some lightening that threatened, but no rain.

“We couldn’t cross, Dhay, the river was to deep.”

“To deep James? You know this is not a game of pick-up-sticks!”

“I know.”

“Well, it looks like there won’t be rain today, with luck the river should be down tomorrow.”

James went back to his room, just in time for the electricity to go out.

“I guess it will be a dark night.” James said to himself using his phone to light his final actions. Before jumping under his mosquito net for the night, Once more setting his alarm for 4:45.

“James!” Klo walked into the room, his music playing.

“Klo, I’m almost ready.” The same routine of waking up at 4:45, deciding to “rest” for five more minutes, and then waking up 4 minutes to 5 had happened again. This time Klo had beat him.

They walked together past the dorm, Klo ran inside.

James waited anxiously outside, but as the seconds turned into minutes, he became antsy. He wanted to call out, “Hurry Klo, this isn’t a game of Crochet!” But as he had been the first reason for delay, he felt he wasn’t justified, yet.

Klo eventually walked out, carrying only his flashlight and his phone and accompanied by no one.  

“Anyone else coming?”

“No, just us.” No further explanation was given.

The two walked on in silence, just as they had the previous morning. Except it wasn’t silent. Klo kept music blaring from his phone.

“Shouldn’t we maybe turn the music off, it kind of ruins the whole being inconspicuous thing?”

Klo ignored him. This could be because he could not hear James over his music, because he was angry at having to get up at 5 a.m. two mornings in a row, or because he was not particularly fluent in English and was not really sure what “inconspicuous” meant.  Whatever the reason, they carried on with the Thai version of the song More than Words following them every step.

They were a bit later than the previous morning, as such there were many more people on the path. Even the soccer field was filled with young men passing the ball around. This was pretty amazing considering it was still dark. They continued on with more people to avoid, but with no serious problems. Most the people were out preparing for market and getting ready for the day; people that did not care or take interest in the passing of a tall white American.

And so, without gathering too much attention, the couple made it to the river. Klo turned off the music. There was no more messing around. Both looked silently at the flowing stream which was still higher than it had been when James had arrived weeks ago, but lower than the previous day, together they stepped into the water.

The first part was the deepest, and it only went up to James’ knees. Holding each other on the shoulder, they crossed to the opposite shore. There was a light at the nearby house as they followed the path up to the road.

“Get down!” James said while he fell to the ground, laying on the grass hill, out of sight of the road. A few more cars went by. James waited for it to be silent before he stood up.   

“Where do I go? Over the bridge? Or just there on the other side of the street?”

“You wait there.” Klo pointed to the small dirt place across the street. “The bus will go that way.”

“Are you sure, Klo? This is no game of pick-up sticks!”

Klo simply nodded his head.

“Thanks friend.” They shook hands, and James jumped on the empty road and walked across, where he stood conspicuously waiting.

It did not take long for the dogs of the area to take notice. Several approached him. He stepped back, pulled out his belt and held his ground. They did not get any closer.

The wait went tediously slow. Cars drove by, James turned and pretended to be looking at his phone.  “I’m a tourist” he would say to himself, reviewing his plan if approached. He rehearsed the words in his mind several times.  There was no incident.

One minute before six the truck arrived. It had seats in the back so it was used like a bus.

“70 bhat?”

The man did not understand. James made the symbol for 7. The man nodded.

There was one man already in the truck. James bowed, but they remained silent. The next stop was in front of the main gate. There were lots of cars and people. Friday morning there is a market, and venders were there to sell their goods. The truck stopped for several minutes. James looked around at the various vendors, all Thai, then he turned towards the gate, Thai police. One was looking at him.

James turned straight forward. The truck had a roof over the bed where the clients sat, if he sat straight, his head was completely hidden in the ceiling. The only thing visible from the gate was his brown shirt. Finally they drove on, there was no incident.

They drove past several other gated entrances, most were not manned. Several people entered, and some got out. Before getting to the next town, the police stopped the truck. James knew they were only there to check for contraband, they cared nothing about people. The policeman greeted him, “good morning.”

“Good morning.” James replied smiling. Soon they were going on. The two police officers, not realizing at all what had just slipped past them. James felt under his shirt. Still there, still safe.

It was a forty minute drive in the best of circumstances to the next town where he would catch the bus. The best that could happen is that no one would stop them. It seemed he was good. But at one stop, policemen were there. The truck stopped and he walked up to the bus.

“How is it going officer!” James began, trying to put him off by becoming a friend. “Did you watch the Thai-China soccer game last night? Wow, Thailand certainly did a number on them.”

Did the ruse work? Well considering the officer didn’t speak English, James could have been saying, “I am drug-trafficker” and it would not have mattered. However, as the officer did not know English, not even enough to ask for anything, he just decided to not bother, and James was soon at the bus station getting a taxi to take him to his Mae Sot connection.

As he jumped on the back of the motorcycle and took off down the road with the wind brushing through his hair, he reached with one hand to check for the small bag. Still there, he smiled contently to himself. Feeling that no one could stop him from his mission…

To be continued

People of the Journey

I began my journey from Salt Lake City to a small town in Thailand early in the morning Thursday September 3. Everyone I talked to about the journey said I was so brave for going alone. But I was not alone, there were tons of people around me I just needed to meet them.

I first met a girl from Japan who was going home after a stay visiting her previous host family in Chicago. She was very nice and we had a good talk. I would have liked to talk more to her, unfortunately she was flying to Japan, and I still had many hours to wait before I could board my plane to Bangkok. 

The next people I met were a couple going to the Philippines. I met them in the LA airport, waiting like I was for the flight out. They were a very friendly and interesting couple. They got an opportunity to do World War II historical tours and research in the Philippines
on the same island where his father had been during WWII. You can read more about their adventures here. We ended up in China together before we parted ways. 

Also in the LA airport while I was waiting in line at Panda Express to get a bite to eat, there was a Chinese guy waiting behind me. Out of the blue he showed me something he had written and asked me, "have you heard of this university?" To my surprise it was Brigham Young University! I was like what? I was not wearing any gear or anything, so it was kind of random. I told him that I had gone to that university! He then asked if it was a good university. I actually looked again to make sure it really was what I thought, I then noticed the "Idaho" written underneath. He was actually talking about BYU-Idaho. Still cool, but not as cool. It turns out he is going to go there this coming year. So that was random, and cool.

While I was on my 12-hour stereo-typically Asian flight to China, what should happen, but I get talking to the girl in the seat in front of me and guess what? She doesn't speak English, or Chinese, however she did speak Spanish! I wish I had talked to her sooner so I could have helped her out with the flight where everything was either in Chinese or English. It must have been a difficult start to what I am sure will be a difficult trip, but major kudos to her for going to a foreign country to learn Chinese. She is from Mexico. 

Well while I had been talking to this girl in Spanish, two other older ladies I guess had overheard me, and started talking to me in Spanish. They both were from LA, but of Latino heritage, so we talked a little. who knew there were so many Spanish-speaking people flying to China?

On the way off the plane I ran into a guy I had seen in the LA airport with his whole family who were apparently sending him off. I was curious what his story was, so I asked him. Turns out he is a 17 year old kid who wanted some adventure in his life, so he decided he is going to backpack through Thailand, alone. Now that kid is ballsy, 17 and going to a foreign country alone with no set plans. He had a hostel booked for his first night in Bangkok, then after that it was all up in the air. Below is a picture of one of the coolest 17-year-old people I have ever met. 

Dunkin, the coolest 17 year old backpacker I have ever met. 

I spent my time in China with my friend Dunkin, but we had to part ways as he had a later flight to Bangkok. I get on the airplane and by the by start talking to the couple sitting next to me. And guess what? They are four-time world ballroom dance champions! His name is Bjorn. They are from Denmark. It was funny, I ask them where they are from, they say Denmark, and I am like, oh that is supposedly one of the happiest places in the world, then I ask them what they are doing in Bangkok, they say they are going to a Ballroom dance competition. I tell them I have been in a few Ballroom dance competitions, that it is a pretty big deal at the University I went to. Turns out they of course know all about BYU and its dance program, and even were good friends with a couple from Utah who had come over to Denmark for six months to be trained by them. And I am like, well if you are going to Thailand to dance, you must be pretty good. Bjorn replies, "We were fortunate enough to win the World Dance Competition, four times." Anyways, below is his picture (his partner was just waking up, so I don't think she wanted to be in the picture. And if you are curious they competed in the 10 point or something like that where it includes both standard (waltz, foxtrot, etc) as well as Latin (samba, cha cha, etc.) dances. 

The 4-time world Ballroom dance champion!

Finally I am in Bangkok, and I enjoy the day seeing the city a little (as much as you can with two suitcases). In Bangkok just before boarding I meet a lady who needs to use a phone, I don't have one. But we get to talking. She has a beautiful accent, and as it turns out is from New Zealand. I tell her how much I love Lord of the Rings and how it just must be beautiful there. She says it is. She has a small farm and it is just outside of where the "shire" is. I am like, I need to visit! She says I do as well and even gave me her contact info so I can go visit her in New Zealand. Yay! next trip. Anyways she is going to Chiang Mai to get some dental work done. I guess dentistry is cheaper and of higher quality in Thailand than it is in New Zealand. Keep that in mind. 

I fly into Chiang Mai and meet Kia, my brother's friend who is gracious enough to drive me around the next day. From there I get on a killer long bus ride to Mae Sot. There are interestingly enough no less then 4 white people on the bus. Michael, who is going to Mae Sot to work for an NGO, John, who's wife works for an NGO in Chiang Mai and he is going to visit friends, and some tourist lady. I also talked to Nehemiah who was super friendly, and I assumed was Thai or Indian. I was wrong, he is Pakistani and he studies at a University in Chiang Mai, and his parents are Christian pastors in Mae Sot. All sorts of stereo types I had came down in that conversation. He had to be one of the most friendly people I had met. 

I arrived really late in Mae Sot then got a ride on a motorcycle with all my bags to a guest house. Smile guest house, worth staying there if only for the wifi signal. However, when I arrived there was no one at the desk (as it turns out there is almost never anyone at the desk). There were some people in  one of the rooms, and I asked them, they said he would be back. I then asked if they knew where a bathroom was (I had been holding it for several hours). There were 4 young adults (20s) sitting in the room. One of them stood up, put his arm around me, and guided me to where the bathroom was. When I was done he invited me to eat dinner with the group. I was amazed. I decided Thai people were the nicest in the world. I was just some random guy in a hotel lobby. Nothing like that would ever happen in the states. 

As it turns out my view of the nicest people in the world had to be changed again, because that group of young people in the hotel it turns out were not Thai, they were Karen. And though we did not realize it then, the guy who put his arm around me, is actually a teacher at the school I was going to teach at. We realized this when we saw each other the next day in Mae La camp. "I was surprised to see you" he told me. 

I have heard it said that our true character is shown by how we treat those who are not able to do anything for us. By this standard I have met some of the most incredible people in the world here in Thailand. The next day while I was walking looking for a phone to use (I had walked for almost half an hour and had a long ways to go), a kid completely out of the blue pulled up next to me on his bike and asks if he can help. I tell him I need to call, he lets me use his phone, make connection with the guy I need to talk to and saves me hours walking. The kid then just rides off in the direction he came from, as if his only purpose was just helping me out. 

The world is filled with incredible people. You are not alone, you are surrounded by friends you just haven't met yet. Get to know them.

  

The craziest fashion show ever

Before I delve into the actual details of the story, I need to say a few things about the Karen people. They are among the most shy and modest I have ever met. They are very against PDA (public displays of affection). I think I have only seen one couple kiss in public, it was at a wedding and someone had to literally push their faces together for the most awkward wedding kiss humanity has ever witnessed. I have been to many other weddings. No kissing. I have been in their homes. No kissing. No holding hands. Husband and wife often don't even sit by each other.

Anyways, this made me very curious when I heard they were holding a fashion show at the nearby college. representatives from every college and high school (4 colleges, 3 high schools) were going and competing. Friday night the students from my school were practicing for their event. Next to the aforementioned kiss it was about the most awkward thing I have ever seen. All the students were trying to instruct the two who had been chosen on how to walk, and how to stand next to each other. They were supposed to embrace while they stood together and the guy looked like he had just been sent to a POW camp and had his life flash before him.

 The next day I went with many of the students to watch the event. There were probably 2000+ people gathered for the event. I was the only white guy. Actually I am the only white person in the 45,000 person camp. Kind of like being a black guy at Lavell Edwards Stadium.

The fashion show began with couples walking down the aisle each holding a different country's flag. I am guessing their dress was supposed to represent that country, but except for in a few cases, the dress had nothing to do with the country. Mexico, Spain, France, Germany, they were all represented with Karen people wearing Karen clothes.

Once the good looking bunch were all on the stage (probably about 25 couples), they all sang the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah, because its a fashion show and why not?

The couples singing the Hallelujah chorus. 

After that, they walked off the stage and there was a short performance by a guy singing a pop song. He had a good voice and performed well. After that the whole congregation sang a Karen song about the Karen people longing for their homeland, it was actually very beautiful.

Now for fashion! The first run was casual wear. The couple from my school probably overdid the make up. The guy looked like a singer from KISS. The other guys in the group didn't wear make up.

Anyways, remember what I said about the Karen being the most shy and modest people around? That kind of makes a fashion show just about the antithesis of what they are inclined to do. Most white people don't even feel comfortable walking the runway. Uncomfortable is exactly the word to describe every person in the fashion show. It was painfully obvious that none of them had volunteered. No one, particularly the boys seemed happy to be in the show. However, in a strange way, that made them look exactly like most fashion models I have seen walking the runway. Coincidence? Hmm, who knows.

The couples. Notice most don't touch each other. Almost all the guy's hands are at their sides.

There ended up being a series of three fashion walks, casual clothes, Karen clothes, and formal wear. In between these were sets of people singing and dancing. I have never seen the Karen do much dancing besides traditional dancing, but a group did some some incredible hip-hop dancing. The song had a very strong beat, but was up so loud it was difficult to make out the words. When I finally did, I realized it was in English. It was Amazing Grace in hip hop. The dancers all had crosses on their t-shirts. I guess this is the modern christian movement or something. The later dance group all had white masks over their faces. It was a cool dance, but I don't really know what the whole white face business was about.

Dancing to Amazin' Grace yo! Not the best picture, but if you look closely their white shirts have crosses on them (at about a 45 degree slant). 

After the final "walk" or strut or whatever you call it, it was time for questions. In American beauty pageants they always have open-ended questions like "What will you do to promote education of women around the world?" These are nice because they allow for the banal and cliche answers like "world peace" and the far more interesting responses like this and this.

The questions were incredibly difficult history trivia questions. The first one asked how much land Saw Ba Oo Gyi (a Karen revolutionary) had to give to the Burmese government? I was like, who knows this stuff? I know Karen history pretty well, but I would never have remembered something as detailed as that.

After the questions the contestants left and the entertainment continued while the judges made their decision.

Through a translator I was told we were going to witness a performance of a bible story. It began and I was trying to discern what bible story it was. I soon realized it was one of those non-biblical bible stories.

It was actually a dramatization of people dying and meeting St. Peter at the pearly gates and see if they made it into heaven. On the stage a ton of angels stood waiting for those who made it; a bunch of guys dressed in all black came in from the back to take those who failed.

The first girl who I did not really get how she died made it into heaven. The family that died in the car crash also made it. The girl who committed suicide after her boyfriend broke up with her didn't make it. The "devils" took her away in pretty traumatic fashion. Kind of a dark play. The girls who only liked to party? One made it, the other two didn't. The two girls who were killed preaching the gospel? Yeah they were in, and yelled quite joyously when they found out they made it.

This maybe gives some idea of the size of the crowd. This is just inside the building, outside was packed with people trying to look in as well. 

After this, the top three couples came out for a final round. The couple from our school made it. Each contestant was asked two questions. They were hard questions and they were given in English. The questions covered everything from Newton's laws of physics to literature and English grammar. I don't think I could have got all the questions right. Our team went 50%. The girl was right on the "future perfect progressive tense" in English, but the boy answered Sao Paulo instead of Rio De Janeiro for the location of the famous Christ statue in Brazil.

Because of this small slip of a few hundred miles we finished in third place. Neither of our team got the "best style" award either (which I guess was a separate award?!?).

I am not sure what the take away from this story is, except maybe how to make your fashion show anything but a fashion show. Who wants to sing the Hallelujah chorus with me?

a movie, a dream, a reality

I feel as if I am in a movie almost every moment. One of those movies about an ordinary guy who goes to some far off place to escape his life, and finds more than he could have imagined. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry or to sing with joy. Everyday I think both about leaving and about staying forever. I am simultaneously in a trance as I am n a hyper-attentive state. There is no end to the beauty, no end to the sadness, no end to the contradictions. The happiest people I have ever met in one of the saddest situations. The hardest working, unable to work. The smartest people with the most primitive education. The lowest quality house I have ever lived in, yet I take of my shoes every time I come in the door.

I have only been here about a day, and it feels as if I am in another world.

From the moment I jumped out of the car on the highway and was met by Dhay Poe (administrator at LMTC, the school I am teaching at) saying, "Hi Austen!" And I looked up and saw thousands of lights coming out of the jungle canopy on the mountainside. It looked like a scene from Avatar, or the hobbits arriving at Lothlorien in The Lord of The Rings, But it wasn't it was me and it was real life. But I knew this was a magical place. With the cover of night I walked down a forest path, walked through a river and on on a motorcycle ride worthy of fast and furious and into the refugee camp.

In many ways I was shocked at the low-quality of the living conditions, but I shouldn't have been, I suppose I had been spoiled by Thai hospitality. My room was open to the air, with a few foot gap between the top of the walls and the roof. He showed me the bathroom and said I was welcome to take a shower or wait until the next day. I would have taken a shower if I had realized where it was. It took me a while to realize that the "shower" did not refer to a spout that sprayed water on you when you turn a nob as I had supposed, but rather to a bucket in the bathroom with a ladle in it.

I met the principal the next morning, an old man who walks with a cane. He walked over the same eroded mountain trails I had the night before nearly fell on multiple times while trying to get to my house. He didn't once.

The mountain trails

He talked about how the revolution had affected his life from a very young age. How he was convinced by his high school teacher to be a teacher instead of a soldier up to founding this school He said how they asked him to be headmaster and he didn't think he could, but here he was.

"We are always supposed to have at least one native speaker." He told me, but it had become difficult because the Thai military had been cracking down on letting foreigners into the camp. He then told me about his belief in God and how he had prayed for me to arrive safely. He talked about the many religious at the school, there are Buddhist monks, animists, but mostly Christians. Most all the teachers are Christian, but one. "He is a communist," the principal said as if that was a religion. "He to it when he was with the Burmese during the war."

These two girls are independently learning how to play the violin. They have no teacher. 

I met the communist/atheist professor the next day. We talked about physics and how I would happy to help with anything as I had studied Mechanical Engineering. "I like to do science and physics experiments," I told him. "We can't do much here. It is a pity we do not have a nuclear lab!" he said while walking away laughing.

With the light of morning I was able to see the lay of the land for the first time.

The school is backed right up against the mountains, a huge tower cliff right behind it. Surrounding the cliff is dense jungle forest with mist rising out of it every morning. The view is fit for the center spread of National Geographic.

This cliff is right behind the college and is probably over 1000 feet high. 

I met more of the professors later that day. Maria speaks perfect English and has to be at least in her sixties, if not older. She walks on the mountain paths of mud in her perfectly clean traditional Karen clothes. She learned her impeccable English in Baptist mission schools with American teachers.

Then there is Thara Harold. He says how he wants to study overseas, but he can't. I 'm stuck here, and I'm getting old. A few grey hairs are showing up on his head, but he speaks English well and is quick as can be. "We just want freedom. This is not freedom. Peace? peace is too much to expect."

I go to class and we talk of democracy and war and freedom. Things I studied in history that were abstract concepts that described revolutions hundreds of years ago. But not here. Here it is what they live every day. It is why they can't leave.

Students play soccer on the small cement playing field. 

Revolutions, war, peace councils. These are not distant events we learn about from their air-conditioned rooms. These are the things that govern their current existence. Their relatives are part of the revolution, part of the war, they wait to hear the results of peace treaties that could change everything about their lives.

As I sit there with a dog sleeping on the cement floor while the lecture on history and literature continue, chickens running around outside, monks chanting in the distant monastery, that rises along with multiple christian crosses out of the beautifully dense mountain forest, I want to jump up and shake myself to make sure that this is all real. Can it really be happening to me?

View from the college: if you look very closely you can see the cross of a church. 

Every day I think about going home. But I can't. I just can't. This is too amazing, too incredible, too difficult to miss.

The Karen believe strongly in ghosts. From their animist background, many believe in the spirits of the trees and forest.

The name of the Karen's homeland is Kaw Thoo Lei. I have heard many translations, the most common being Land Free of Evil, but also Land of Green Ghosts.

I don't put much stock in ghosts or ghost stories, but my first night sleeping in the camp I "saw" (I am not sure if I was dreaming or in some half-awake trance) a ghost next to me. It scared me and I tried to hit it, and it was gone. It was probably just a random brain spasm, but perhaps it is because, as I often feel, this place is magical.