My choice of destination for adventure for the year 2008, contrary to my friends’ speculation, was not inspire by the movie “Rambo IV”. I have my own reasons:-
- the noble reason: I need some humbling experience so that I will quit complaining and learn to thank God for what I have; and
- the not-so-noble reason: I have been in my office for too long, I caught myself talking to my computer.
However, the scenery compensated for whatever regrets we had in this journey. It was in the midst of the monsoon season. The mountains and valleys were shrouded with mists despite the shining sun. Flowers were blooming. The rivers winding along the valleys added to the serenity. A perfect break from the hustle and bustle of the city. A perfect place to exercise one’s skill in using the latest model of digital photo camera.
We reached MRM in the late afternoon. It was in a valley surrounded by a wall of mountains with a river running through. We have to bypass a Thai army security checkpoint at the entrance. All communications via the mobile phone were unavailable at this point. Neither was there any telephone line nor electricity supply. We were simply cut off from the rest of the world.
The Chairperson of the Karen Women Organisation (KWO), Madam Es So, and a few representatives gave us a warm welcome. They were generous to provide us with the best accommodation in the KWO building. Though the walls were made of bamboos and the roof were leaves as were all the other houses, it was the only building that has concrete floor, tap water supply and an electricity generator. We were taken on a short tour around the centre of MRM.
This camp consisted of about 16,000 Karen refugees that had escaped from the Military Junta of Myanmar. I noticed that there were more children and youths than the adult population. My initial assumption: this was the natural consequence when men and women who were used to labour were confined in an area with no electricity and earning a living was forbidden. I was wrong. I should have been aware of the long existed tension between the Military Junta and the Karens.[1] The Karens have always desire to have the land where they were the majority formed into a "state" within Myanmar similar to what the Shan, Kachin and Chin tribes had been given. In order to preserve their claim to the land, the older Karens will not leave the country despite the Junta’s atrocities. However, the Karens were determined that the younger generations should be in safe hands and given proper education. Such were the Karens’ determination that their children and youths could travel through the thick, dangerous, leeches and malaria infested jungle to reach the refugee camps in Thailand. I was in awe and at the same time shuddered upon listening to account after account of their plights.
The Salween River that runs along the border of Myanmar and Thailand is narrow at certain locations. I wondered whether some of the bullets may “stray” into these areas. Watchtowers with guards were stationed all over the place. I was unable to see them but at night I could hear the sounds they made by tapping on bamboo sticks to communicate to each other. The 2 nights in MRM were the longest nights in my life as my mind were unable to rest properly and my ears were listening for any sign of attack from wild animals or the Junta.
As refugees, the Karens were dependant on aids. The UNHCR, KWO and ZOA were the main contributors. They had buildings for gatherings and trainings. The Karens were given basic food at monthly rations. Education was provided but only at basic levels such as the Karen Language, English Language and Mathematics. Although it was evident that the NGOs had done a good job, it was also obvious to us that none of their representatives had remained in this camp to take care of the administration. Hence, there was no increment to the funds to counter the rising costs of food and fuel. The ration for each family had decreased drastically. Therefore, food was not wasted. There was no need for refrigerator because there was nothing to keep and no leftovers. No snakes, lizards or rodents could be seen crawling around the camp. I was afraid to ask in case I might get response like this, “Oh yes, we have these creatures. Since you are our special guests, we have served to you in one of the meals. You seem to be enjoying them very much.”
As a Malaysian, I wanted to give a good impression to the Karens. I tried to master the phrase “Thank you” in the Karen language and applied it to all the good Samaritans as soon as I stepped into the camp. I was surprised initially that the response I received from them was the same cold stare. To my embarrassment, I was told politely by a good Samaritan at the end of my stay, that I have been telling all the good Samaritans that they were “fools”. You see, the difference between “Thank you” and “You fool!” in the Karen language was merely… a twist of the tongue.
Time shot past when I was experiencing both excitement and fear in MRM. We had to leave on the 2nd June. The Camp Commander personally joined us for breakfast. After breakfast, with heavy hearts, we bade farewell to the Karens. For a reason I still do not understand, the journey back to Chiang Mai seemed shorter. Maybe I was not paying attention to the scenery. As a Malaysian, I have my rights in this country. As a refugee, a Karen has no such rights in the camp...
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