The sun is warming my shoulder and the window, like a wide screen national geographic documentary. For once i am happy to be on the sunny side of the bus. The air conditioning in these VIP coaches can be like going to the south pole. My Ipod is plugged in, and the mind is adrift. One gets wise to the perks of travel after a while. Bangkok, in six hours, Kanchanaburi another three. I am a tourist in a foreign land.
I've just spent almost two weeks in Mae Sot where I became aware of yet another situation where politics, power and corruption feeds the divide between the people who have nothing, and those who thrive on human desperation, need, greed, foreign aid and the generosity of others. It is a border town where refugees, illegal immigrants, political activists, volunteers, NGOs and foreign workers mix with Thai government officials, police and its people. Mae sot is a small town on Thai/Burmese (Myanmar) border. It is not a “tourist town”. The town is full of Burmese people who come to Thailand with the hope of a better life for themselves and their children, escaping Burma’s militant government. Some are escaping political incarceration, or seeking refugee status in order to resettle in western countries like USA, Australia and Europe. They live in the refugee camps unable to leave their encampment, sometimes for many years. Many young people have never been out of the camp. The illegal immigrants in Maesot can not officially work or be educated in Thai schools, and are thus subject to exploitation, poor living conditions, uncertain futures and the fear of being taken from their homes and sent back to Burma or imprisoned. There is an unofficial curfew after dark in fear that Thai police will pick them up so that may reach their official “quota’ to satisfy the government’s requirements. If they don’t carry money for a bribe they are simply taken from their families. It is a place where foreigners gather to study the needs of people, and help people with education, health care and work towards basic human rights. It is just this. It is a complex world where a foreigner can only slightly understand the layers and complexities of this area. It is Asia. It is thousands of miles from my home, my comforts and my culture, and I am deeply touched by it.
I continue my journey reflecting as I gaze out the window.
Next day: I am sitting next to the bridge over the River Khwai, where thousands of POWs died and suffered terrible conditions building the Burma /Thai railway for the Japanese during world war two. Tourists flock here in the thousands each day. It's a bazaar scene. Hundreds of tourists lining the bridge, walking the same foot steps as these men/soldiers. `Only the lonely' is blaring out through the crowd on the boom box by a guy hopeful to sell cheap CDs to the tourists. Cameras are flashing, groups of excited school children, bus loads of tourists and even monks line up in front of the bridge that Thai, Malay, Burmese, English, Australian and Japanese men died in the thousands, only sixty odd years ago. A few sober souls stand out amongst the crowd, obviously touched personally by the historic tragedy in some way.
I remember the impact that Auschwitz concentration camp had on me when I visited it. I was 19 years old. I remember the heart felt silence, the shock of the reality of war. My life was so far removed from the harshness of survival, and of death.
I have just walked through the Burma Railway museum filled with similar images of men reduced to skeletons, victims of disease, exposed to the cruelties and domination of soldiers of war, where people lost their souls in the wheels of war and power, and soldiers were left with the only thing left, mate ship and the hope of survival.
As I sit and watch the flow of people walking the bridge I am reminded of the bigger picture. I sit in silence alone. Perhaps this is one of the advantages of solo travel; I am in my own thoughts, free to absorb my own experiences and free to be immersed in my own mind.
My journeys through SE Asia this year have given me a deeper sense of history, people and myself, and a broader understanding of the effects of war and the resilience of the human spirit to fight for survival and renewal.
Cambodia is still very much in the recovery state; the infrastructure, the education system, business, politics and the family. It will take generations to rebuild itself after the collapse of the Pol Pot régime. I was 21years old at this time in history and traveling the world. The world was my oyster and I was oblivious to the terror unfolding for families in Cambodia. I knew nothing of terror or fear. My life has been blessed so it seems.
Vietnam and Laos are also rebuilding after the ‘American War” as they call it. Vietnam has remodeled itself to be a thriving business oriented nation, but is still in need of programs to support the poor and disadvantaged. Laos is still clearing bombs and dealing with reduced income from the unusable land still to be cleared of the American bombs that are still maiming their children and farmers. There is need for foreign aid, medical and educational assistance for these people. Yet the smiles and graciousness of Lao people are heart warming encounters. Their Buddhist beliefs seem to filter through their every day life and it is easily felt by foreigners.
However Burma’s ‘war’ is happening NOW. People are fleeing across the border everyday, and minority groups are in skirmishes with the government soldiers along its borders. People are still being taken to forced labor camps and used as ‘human mine detectors’ ahead of government forces. Children are malnourished along the border areas of Burma, with no medical supplies or foreign aid allowed into Burma. The government is still jailing its crusaders and villagers are still fighting for freedom, democracy and survival. And the world stands by. Few people are aware of this situation.
In some ways now I understand the ease of the tourist approach to seeing it all through a picture screen bus window. It’s a holiday experience, an interesting place to mark off on the tourist route of South East Asia. As a long term traveler I am still part of this industry of tourism that contributes, invades and changes the economy and customs of Asia, and other parts of the developing world. I bring with me the inevitable changes that come with economic growth, tourism and modernism that we call “progress” with the march of time that invades and pollutes the ancient cultures. .
I am a foreigner. But the more time I spend, the more I see, the more I feel and the more I get involved with the people and places I encounter. The exchanges become richer and my contribution helps, yet the more helpless I feel and the more complex the world becomes.
I have worked with impoverished children in Cambodia and taught at migrant schools in Maesot, I have contributed to creative endeavors of Burmese artists and donated clothing and money to the poor. My comfortable existence back home in Australia has been touched by the realities of others less fortunate and I will never see as I saw before.
So what can I do? I can write and paint, exhibit, and inform. On the ground I can fundraise and perhaps work with the consequences of war and poverty with my skills that I can share. I have met so many people here doing what they can, in small or significant ways. It all makes a difference to those less fortunate than us. I have been uplifted by the humility of people and the humanitarian attitudes of others. Life is full of caring people and projects and survival is what brings people together and creates hope in this world. All is not lost here. I guess anything is something, and more than just viewing the scene from my bus window.
