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.

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.