However, there are usually quick fixes to minor physical discomfort. Pop some aspirin, a sinus tablet and get back on my feet, right? Not quite. The most discouraging thing about the political battle that has my neighborhood up in smoke, is witnessing the devolution of public discourse. Rational dialogue with all it’s beleaguering complexities has promptly been evicted and people on both sides have found, fed and fortified something more simple: hatred. A hatred wrought with ill will, fear-mongering, and deception so insidious, that regardless of the political outcome, it could only engender more of the same hurtful enmity in the future.

But before you airlift me a lifetime supply of prozac, let me share that like many here I still hold on to the hope that a peaceful solution can be arranged. And a runny nose coupled with a few people’s ugliness can’t really efface the search for sanuk friends described in the last post. On the contrary, trials have actually provided the contrast by which we can value what we take for granted. For example, this month we sponsored extra supplies for five refugee families. All of the five families were having trouble purchasing basic needs; two families of widowers, two with small children, and all very grateful for any help. With the recent escalation of violence here, you can be sure the goods (rice, sugar, cooking oil, etc…) were more than timely. Also there have been a lot of interruptions in volunteering because of the situation here, but similarly, it has made us all the more appreciative of moments we do get to spend in the community.

Thanks to everyone who expressed concern for Thailand. We’re staying safe and being patient. The next few weeks while things are being sorted out, I’ll be sharing some of what I learned working with Bangkok’s homeless.

-Dwight

Our journey started from Bangkok with an overnight bus to Chiang Mai, a short flight from there to Mae Hong Song, and finally a sangthaew (think taxi meets the pickup truck) ride to Na Soi, approximately 40 kilometers away. In the calm, scenic hills of Na Soi lies the Na Soi Karenni Refugee Camp, just one of the many camps along the Thai-Burmese border. This particular camp houses around 25,000 ethnic refugees from Burma. While waiting for Moses, a Karenni refugee, to arrive to motorbike us back to our accommodation, we gaze up at a modest temple, once hit by a mortar in a raid on the camp by the SPDC. The Burmese border is a mere six kilometers away, and imagining the Burmese army coming into such a pristine place seemed unthinkable; however, in 1997, 10 people were killed in such an attack. I found myself wondering, how could the Thai government allow the SPDC to enter their country, attack on their soil, and then just leave again?

“We were called to Na Soi by a plea for help. “

We were called to Na Soi by a plea for help. Nu Nu, an elderly Karenni refugee who has been living in the camp since April 1995, has been running an orphanage since 2000. Quite simply, she has run out of money and needs supplies and food. The refugee monthly food allotments are shockingly sparse: 15 kilograms of rice, one kilogram of yellow beans, half a kilogram of salt, and one kilogram of cooking oil. All other food must be bought with their own money. Not allowed to farm, raise livestock except pigs, work, or leave the camp, Nu Nu’s prospects are thin. We entered Nu Nu’s sister’s house, also a refugee who was lucky enough to buy her way out of the camp and into a proper house surrounded by banana trees.

Some of the kids when we first arrived.

In the sparsely furnished great room sat 22 children, ages ranging from four years old to 19 years old, who promptly stood up when we entered. Without introduction, we were given seats, and immediately treated to some songs and speeches prepared by Nu Nu and the children. Their singing, in Karenni and in English, was very good, and very touching (Click here to see a video of the children singing). One song in particular brought tears to my eyes; beneath their lovely harmony was a plea for God not to forget about them. About an hour and a half walk from the camp, the children must walk in small groups of three or four, so as not to attract attention from the police at the checkpoints. If caught outside the camp, the refugees–children included– will be put into jail until a fine of 4000Baht ($120) can be paid, a huge sum for any refugee. Because of the risk involved, they only manage to leave the camp once every two to three months.

“This process is far from perfect–but it’s the only thing the children have to give them hope.”

"She dreams of a different life and wants more education to become a nurse."

This group of orphans have been with Nu Nu for about three months. The previous group has mostly been relocated. Everyone in the new group has UNHCR numbers, and are in various stages of applying for resettlement. However, even if accepted for relocation to Australia, Finland, or the USA, they must wait until they are at least 18 years old. This process is far from perfect–but it’s the only thing the children have to give them hope.

We had the chance to interview some of the children, with the help of Moses for translation. The orphans were a little shy, but one thing rang true: their desire for a better life.

Gay, a 15-year-old girl from the Karen state, is trying to go to Finland. She came to the camp when she was seven years old with her uncle. She has no memory of Burma or her journey to Thailand. All she knows about it is what she has been told. Her father is dead, and her mother stayed in Burma to look after her three younger sisters; she has no contact with her family and does not know what their status is. Gay dreams of a different life in Finland and wants more education to become a nurse.

"She wants what the camps can't offer: freedom."

Htoo is 14 years old, from the Karenni state. She has been with Nu Nu for three years. Her brother came to the camp first, but returned for her when the SPDC attacked her village five years ago. The village was burned and her father forced to become a porter. Porters are forced to carry a lot of weight; if the porter cannot carry the load, they are often beaten and sometimes killed. Porters also are forced to lead the expeditions in order to clear the mines for the soldiers. Htoo says she feels okay in the camp, but wants to go somewhere else because there are not enough facilities, such as higher education. She wants what the camps can’t offer: freedom. Chorest is 19 years old and from the Karen state. He had to flee to Thailand when he was 10 years old because the SPDC burnt his village down. In the rush of the attack, he left with other villagers, leaving his family behind. One of the few children in the orphanage that can remember his escape to Thailand, Chorest recalls walking for one month through the hills of Burma, dodging the SPDC and their guns. With no job opportunities, no freedoms, and no higher education available in the camp, he wants to go abroad and dreams of becoming a doctor. However, if he could choose, he says he would like to legally live and work in Thailand, in order to be closer to his homeland. Sadly, the chances of this happening are slim. He is currently waiting to relocate to the USA.

“Within the orphanage, the past is never discussed…”

"With no job opportunities, no freedoms, and no higher education available in the camp, he wants to go abroad and dreams of becoming a doctor."

Within the orphanage, the past is never discussed, nor, according to Nu Nu, do the children ever cry over their families or their fates. Perhaps this is because many refugees psychologically block out such traumatic experiences. Nu Nu, however, remembers everything. She still remembers vividly December 6, 1980, when the SPDC (then called SLORC), attacked her village, shooting, killing, torturing, and burning as they went. Several people were forced to be porters. She also remembers her father being killed when she was 7 years old. He was driving near their village when he was ambushed by the SLORC and brutally attacked. Almost miraculously, her mother found him and kept him alive for 2 months before he died from the wounds. Nu Nu’s husband was also killed by the SPDC. So what does Nu Nu want? She doesn’t have any illusions about getting out of the camp. But she does want a friendship between the SPDC and the people. While not necessarily supporting tourism in Burma, Nu Nu is calling for foreign investment. She believes that building factories and infrastructure is the way toward a better Burma. And she has a message for Obama too: “Make friends with Burma. Find a way to work things out.”

"Make friends with Burma. Find a way to work things out."

That night we were given wonderful hospitality. They cooked the most delicious foods for us and gave us a place to sleep for the night. I’ve seen it time and again in my travels, but it never fails to amaze me how people with so little willingly give so much for their guests. That night I also began to see Nu Nu’s remarkable love for these children, many of which, she has raised since they were little. As we packed up in the early morning for another long journey back, Nu Nu slipped us a piece of paper. On it was a list of supplies needed, such as bedding, mosquito nets, clothing, dishes, and umbrellas. We all left a small donation and sadly said our goodbyes. Being able to talk to the refugees, look into their eyes and hear their stories is an experience which will stay with me for a long time. While I may not be able right now to change policy, am I able to help make 40 children’s lives better. I hope you can too.

You can donate to Nu Nu through In Search of Sanuk. Just be sure to note that the donation is for Nu Nu. Or, if you would like to make a direct transfer, banking details can be found on the Nu Nu Project’s facebook group. For more information contact Regan Suzuki at regsuzuki@hotmail.com. Thanks for reading and remember:

“Make friends with Burma. Find a way to work things out.”

-Chris

Blame it on the ubiquity of advertising that has made every inch of public space available for purchase. Blame it on being submerged in a tourism dependent economy, overrun with hedonistic invitations. Blame it on our personal laziness. Regardless of where it feels most comfortable for you to pile up the blame, we need to realize too many of us are over-entertained and under-challenged.

This week as I listened to the founders of Imagine Thailand talk about the conflict in Southern Thailand. I couldn’t help but wonder why the situation had never been explained to me with such depth before. I’ve lived in Bangkok for a total of two years and I’ve been educating myself about everything Thai, including the language, for nearly three years. Yet Cavelle Dove’s description of the conflict blatantly exposed my minuscule knowledge and all the superficial explanations I had ever been given. Am I surrounded by heartless people or are they just as poorly informed? Are they just too distracted to care?

Perhaps poorly informed is less harsh than over entertained and under challenged. However, the latter most accurately explains my experiences. I know how long I desired so strongly to be a part of something meaningful that I was willing to join any number of organizations to feel I was contributing something. That’s because months of doing everything else the city had to offer left me tired, unfulfilled, and dejected. Yup, it’s the same miserable feeling you get after overdoing it at an expensive hotel buffet. That was my experience in Bangkok, and the seeds of how I came to begin my search for sanuk.

Living abroad has given me a more pronounced understanding of the quote, “The opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference.” Especially when a Thai friend remarked, “Well Dwight, I’m really surprised because I grew up here and I’ve never been to a slum before.” Again I asked myself, are we really so out of touch? Is it our environment? How often are we really given opportunities to give back? Do we even know how to help people or how much fun it can be? Are we just avoiding a challenge?

Consider what avenues exist to discuss helping the less fortunate or marginalized in your community. What are they? Are you a part of the discussion? I fear so few of us are not even having these discussions. When they do occur, it happens in niches so isolated that they’re inaccessible to both other groups having similar discussions or people who are not members of these segmented communities.

It’s my passion to change this where I can.

Tonight In Search of Sanuk is hosting a party called LUSH to raise funds for the urban garden project. As I prepare, I wonder whether or not I should really have to get people drunk to convince them to give to a good cause. Whether we’ll ever stand united to battle the forces keeping us complacent. Whether one day we’ll plead with our friends to understand how tightly linked our well being is to those we’re indifferent to.

“Wakeup. Put your hand in. Be thrilling.”

~Dwight