The Middle

Looking back on the weekend in retrospect, I can piece together why certain things happened the way they did and perhaps why I felt the way I felt. However, I still cannot fully understand how I survived and with so much success.

Turns out the fever and rash I was experiencing were Dengue Fever. I did not want to admit it at the time, even though the thought had crossed my mind. But I had something to accomplish an

d I was not going to let Dengue Fever or anything else get in my way.

I had arranged with my student's cousin the night before, to meet with her friend and go out to the camp together. Right before we were scheduled to meet, I got a text, “My friend is sick today, so he cannot go with you. Sorry, you will have to find the camp alone”

I believed that he was sick because I could feel his sickness. I could feel every sickness existing along the border, raging in my body. I was slightly discouraged, but confidant I could find the camp. After all. I had directions, “Go out to the Asia highway. Drive your motorcylcle toward... toward.... drive your motorcycle.....” I could not remember. Where was I driving? “I just need to go out to the highway and I will see a sign that will jarr my memory. First, I need to eat. I have to have food” I got the motorcycle, and was driving into town to get food when the whole bike started shaking violently. “No!!!! not a flat tire. I am too tired to do this” I could not be too tired. I had to change the tire. Eating would wait. I wandered around the town looking for a place to change the tire. I could not understand anyone. No one was speaking English. No one was speaking Thai. I got directions and forgot them right away. 1 hour later, I finally located the Yamaha store. It had been right down the street the whole time.

While they changed the tire, I sat in a chair sweating. Head spinning and throbbing, eyes hurting, muscles aching, and I fell asleep. It must not have been too long, because they were still fixing the tire when I woke up. Were they still fixing the tire? I could not remember where I was. I stumbled out to the curb. “Where am I? What country am I in

?” “I am near the border, but what border?” I am in India. No, this is Bangladesh. Nicaragua. I am here, near to Bhutan. No. Burma! Thailand. I am in Thailand and I need to make it to the camp.

I was panicking. I honestly thought I would not remember where I was and I would not make it home... ever.

I paid for the tire and rode off. 20 minutes later, I passed the Yamaha store again. 20 more minutes, I was still in the town. Where is the highway? I could not find anything. Food! I still needed to get food. I had not eaten and I was so thirsty. I did not want to eat, but I knew I had to eat. So I forced down some bread and yogurt and I took off.... the wrong direction. Luckily I have a mind for mountains, and even in my state of delirium, I recognized the mountains from my motorcycle ride the day before. I was going the exact opposite direction, which was convenient, cause I could just turn around. Before I did, I stopped my bike. I looked around. I asked for clarity. I explained out loud what I was trying to do and that even though its not important to everyone, its important to some people. I just needed a little more strength and a little more focus.

3 hours after I left, I finally found the highway. I still did not know what city I was going toward, but once I found the highway, I felt a click inside my brain. Like a switch full of warm energy. I smiled and thats all it really took. I needed to have a smile on my face if I was going to make it to the camp.

I rode my motorcycle for about an hour along a winding highway. I passed 3 police chec

kpoints. I had been instructed to lie to them, but there was no need. They saw my western face and flagged me right through. After all, why would a western kid like me be looking for a refugee camp?

The road drops from agricultural plains into a valley with sharp limestone ridges, clouds and mist obscuring the tops of the cliffs so as to make them appear unending, heaven meeting the earth.

After about an hour, bamboo houses began to appear, and before I knew it, I was in the middle of the camp. Barbed wire fences lining the highway, making it clear that I was in no ordinary village. Just then, the rain came. Heaven literally met earth and I was getting soaked. The camp is over 7 kilometers long, housing between 40 and 70 thousand refugees. There are many different gates, opening to many different zones, none of them labeled.

I had to find zone B5. The grandma lived in zone B5. My back was hurting. My head was aching. I was soaking wet. I pulled over and hid under a bamboo shelter. From there, I sat watching people pass. I had to find someone to help me. My phone had no service and I would never find one person in 40,000 unless someone helped me. I had to pick a nice person, someone who speaks a little English and who has a good heart. I could not pick a cop or a guard or I could be arrested or made to leave. No one had uniforms, so I had to choose extra wisely.

I picked a young man with his girlfriend standing under an awning. Her smile was disarming and he treated her so gently. I knew they were my best bet. I showed them the pictures I brought from America. Pictures of the Karen new year celebration in Utah. Pictures of my students playing in a band with other Karen people. They sat talking to each other for long enough that I thought they had forgotten me. I was about to walk away, when the young man said, “OK, we go. You follow me” He escorted his girlfriend to a group of her friends getting in a truck and then he jumped on the back of my motorcycle. His name was Bway.

We made our way to a gate where Bway knew the guards. He showed them my pictures and talked them into letting us in. We walked into the camp. Everything was bamboo and rivers. The paths were muddy flows and we walked right through the middle of them. We stopped at a house to ask for directions and were immediately invited in. The whole family looked through my pictures. They gave me water and they played guitar and sang. One of them joined us on the search, running ahead to find the right way. We crossed wood plank bridges and wandered through a maze of bamboo houses before they stopped and said, “This is the one you are looking for”

I approached slowly and saw Moo Doh and Elve's grandma rocking side to side on the ground under the stilt house. I got her attention and she looked at me so confused. I pulled out the pictures and handed them to her. She did not seem to recognize anyone. My new friend interjected and explained who I was and what the photos were. The grandmas aged face lit up when she realized who she was looking at. She touched their faces as if they were really there. She quickly got to her feet, climbed the ladder into her house and returned in finely woven traditional Karen clothing. She invited me to join her family in the house. We all sat on the bamboo floor while they passed the pictures and talked about each one. My new friend translating their questions as best as he could.

“Do they go to school in America?” “Do they do well?” “Will Elve go to post-high school?” “How many Karen live in Utah?” All the answers made her happy.

I took pictures of the grandparents and the others living there, who I assume are relatives. The grandpa put on his best clothes. They posed, looking straight forward, not smiling. Bway was trying to make them laugh. He asked them to move closer to each other. The grandpa reached down and grabbed his wife's hand. When they held hands, I thought about all that they must have been through together. I imagine they had been married about 50 years. 50 years of war. 50 years of constant fear and attack by the Burmese army. I thought about what they must have survived together, the jungles they had walked through and the rivers they had crossed. The bombs they had avoided. The homes that they had lost. But here they were, living their final years in a refugee camp, still holding hands. My smile returned and I forgot I was sick.

After the pictures, the grandma got nervous. She was worried the police would catch me at their house. It was illegal for me to be there and I did not want to get them in trouble. The visit lasted only 30 minutes or so, but it was worth all the pain and effort. I am so happy I made it.

Bway walked me out of the camp and told me his story. He is only 20, all his family is dead. He is being resettled in 2 months to Australia... all alone. I gave him my e-mail and told him to write me with any questions when he gets to Australia. I wish I could do more. All I can do is hope that someone will show him around Australia and be kind to him like he was to me.

The rain stung my face the whole way back to Mae Sot. My body ached, but nothing could make me sad. I had done what I came to do and I could finally go back and rest.

I slept and woke and walked 2 miles to the bus station. The 6 hour bus ride took 8 and I did not have a seat the whole time. I had a plastic stool that collapsed every time he went around a sharp curve. There was no A/C and I could not tell if I had a fever or if the whole bus did.

Back in Chiang Mai, I got diagnosed with Dengue Fever. My whole body is covered in rash and itching. I have been sleeping about 18 hours a day the last 3 days. I wake up, scratch myself until I am too tired and I fall back asleep. I have been to the hospital twice, and I should be recovering soon.

I appreciate everyones support.

Conversation with a Strong woman.

"Are you sure you are OK til your friend comes?" I asked a young woman who just spent the last 14 days trekking through the jungles of the Karen State (Burma). I did not realize how ridiculous that sounded. If anyone is OK waiting for a friend to pick her up, its this girl. "Is it dangerous?" I asked earlier. "Yes," she replied, "but for Karen people its normal."
I was sitting and conversing with a young woman whose bravery and dedication to her people surpassed anything I could comprehend. What do you say to someone whose relatively short life has been filled with so much stress and pain that smuggling medical supplies through a land-mine ridden jungle war-zone is just normal?
This is what I said (abridged)
"So did alot of your family resettle?"
-My parents and little brother and sister resettled to Canada. My older brother is in Nebraska.
"Did you choose to stay in Thailand?"
-Yes. (staring blankly off into space)
"So, do you have an ID card to work in Thailand? How do you live here?"
-Yes, I have a work permit (still staring)
"Oh good. I know it can be hard to get them"
-Yes, this is confidential. I used to get arrest every day. I bought my ID, paid money. That is why I do not resettle
"Do you plan on staying here in Mae Sot forever? Or maybe only a few years?"
-I dont know. I have to see. I travel alot.
"Really? What for? Around Thailand?"
-I go back and forth between here and Karen state.
"Burma! Across the border? Oh wow. Is that dangerous?"
-Yes, but for Karen people its normal.
"What do you do there? Do you have to walk?"
-We bring supplies, have meetings. We go by foot, by boat, and by walking, but we have gaurds"
"Wow, umm (me staring off into space) thats so brave.... You are so brave. (stare)..... Is the government still attacking the Karen?"
-(She looks me in the eye) Yes. Always.
"You are so brave.... Elve wants to come back to Thailand and be a nurse. Does she want to work with you?"
-All my relatives resettle (pause, thinking) yes. all of them except my grandparents in the Camp and my aunt, my dad's brother, he is still in Karen state. Cannot be resettled.
(I mumble) "so you are alone... lonely....... How often do you go to Karen state?
-Maybe 3 times a year, but for me its more, for special trips. I just got back this morning.
"You just got back -today- wow- thanks for meeting with me. You must be so tired"
-Yes, I am a little sick I think... from walking. We walk full days into the night.
"Through jungle.."
-Yes, on paths, but we have guards. Defense force.
"wow..... What do the Karen people think of Aung San Suu Kyi? Do they care about her?"

-Some, they care, but for me, personally, she can do nothing to help my people.

"Cause she is in prison..."

-Yes, but even if she got out, she could not help my people. Still, I stand in solidarity with her and her struggle as a woman.

Our conversation went on for over an hour. Perhaps equal time talking and sitting in silence staring. I told her stories about her cousins in America. She thanked me, but she never smiled, never laughed, just stayed flat, rigid, and kind. She took some of the photos I brought to give to her aunt (uncle?) in the Karen state on her next trip. I cannot post a picture or her name because she is in Thailand illegally on a fake ID and is also wanted by the Burmese government. I am inspired by her courage, but saddened that she has had need to be so courageous.

Ice Ice Baby

Sometimes pictures speak louder than words. Here are a few shots of me and my friend Ice. Ice lives on a commune for mothers fleeing abusive situations. We teach them human rights lessons once a week. If I am not in charge of giving the lesson, I like to go to the daycare and play games with Ice. I have taught him a few tricks like putting puzzle pieces on his feet, kicking them off, and trying to catch them (he has not quite mastered the catching part yet) He has really warmed up quite a bit since I first met him. Last time I went, he saw me and smiled. The girl working in the daycare said it was the first time she had seen him smile. He is a pretty serious kid most the time. I am glad we can have a little fun.

Energy in the Sky

I have lost 8 kg since arriving in Thailand. Clara and I hiked to Doi Suthep after work. I felt like skipping the whole way. As the sun set and the bugs and birds and creatures chorused jarring medleys around us, I became elated, almost requiring a harness to not run off into the forest leaving Clara alone. Doi Suthep glowed profoundly against the night. Thick billowing clouds reflecting city lights and shouting back with crashes and lightning. I could have stayed there all night, lighting pulsing with my blood. No red trucks at night meant we had to call Win for a lift back into the city. He left a romantic date at a rooftop restaurant and came to retrieve us. We stopped at a lookout halfway down the mountain and let the warm moist breeze of the imminent storm take our cares away.

Electricity circled the city in spastic waves and one by one the four of us commented on the feeling. “this is my first time watching lighting from a mountain” “Me too, its incredible” “Me too” When it was my turn, just silence. How many storms have I watched from the mountains? How many bolts have I dodged while running from mountain peaks? How many times have I stood above a city and shouted down to all the world that I don't have anything to worry about? Lightning is inside me and nothing makes me happier than to share it with my friends.

Meet Win

WIN-

Win says that the Thai speak with a melody, but he takes it to a whole new level. The tone and cadence of his English borders on campy or gay, but somehow he manages to remain entirely masculine while doing it, and it makes the girls go crazy for him. The rhythm and tone spike and fall dramatically even within a single word. "I luuuuv you. You are my number ooune" If he were not Asian, he could never get away with it, but he pulls it off nice.

Win In Thailand, the ideal person looks East Asian, (Korean, Japanese, or Chinese). Light skin and East Asian features. Tall, with a 6 pack and anime hair. Win is 20, and he fits the profile perfectly. So much so, that Thai people don't think he is Thai, and regularly talk about him, assuming he cannot understand. As we walk through the mall, people comment, "What is that Japanese doing with Farong (white foreigners)? Do you think he is gay? Look, he is Japanese. usually shakes it off, but occasionally embarrasses them by speaking in perfect northern Thai.

Win takes me to his gym to work out. He knows everyone there and it is obviously as much a social event as a workout. He does not even bother to change his clothes, opting to stay in his fashionable skinny jeans and puma high tops. The gym assigned me a personal trainer and I was working on my back as instructed. Win came up and said, "If I were you, I would not work on your back, girls cannot see your back, work on your arms, they can see that more" Win readily admits he is materialistic, and looking good is a high priority. He also has no qualms telling people where they might fall short. "Kyla, you are very beautiful and you have a good shape, but I can see your rolls and you could lose some weight" He actually asked the waiter at our restaurant to turn down the lights because the girls look better in the dark. "You both look so beautiful, in the dark." "Kyla, if the new girl is jorgeous (I am still working on the hard G sound with him), then you will be my number 2, but for now you are my number one" When a girl asked him how old he thought she was, he checked her out thoroughly and concluded that with the wrinkles, she must be 29. She was 23 and quite offended. Win could not understand why she might be mad. He likes older girls. His last girlfriend was 29.

Win has essentially raised himself since age 10 when his mother died. His father is a military supplier and spends most of his time away entertaining clients. He woos them with an unrivaled hospitality. "My father taught me that you cannot win someone's heart with money, you have to use your mind and your sense of hospitality. He takes care of his clients and makes sure they have the best time and that every need is taken care of." The message has resonated with Win and he shows me the same kind of hospitality. Every meal is an experience. We go to only the best restaurants, followed by only the best deserts. We ride around in his BMW M5 or his Nissan Maxima tasting the best of Chiang Mai and practicing English.

2 years ago Win entered a Thailand-wide talent search contest to form a new boy-band. He won the whole contest, but his father would not let him be in the band. Win had to stay in college and he had to study law. The boy band dream will stay a dream. Still, Win shows no remorse for not being able to claim his fame and prize.

Other than not being in boy-bands, Win's father only has 3 rules that Win cannot break.

1) Never ride a scooter or motorcycle

2) Never become, date, or have anything to do with the lady-boys (Thailand's famous transgender people)

3) Always stay on top of your studies.

He broke the first rule when he was unfit to drive home, so I scooted him across town

He broke the second rule when he and I had to edit a manual educating Transgender people about their legal rights and how they can access health care.

I am trying to make sure he does not break the 3rd rule, but I think he might be just by hanging out so much.

3 things

Tze told me he only needs 3 things in life before he can be happy.

1) Japan Wood Sandals (the platform kind that I don't think anyone wears anymore)

2) A Micro-pig (the miniature pet pigs you keep like a dog)

3) A pack of Marlboro Smooths

I wonder what my top 3 are.