A feast!

I wonder if it’s wise at 21 to sponsor a refugee. It’s hard not to become invested in the stories I’ve heard here, and knowing that I have the power to secure a ‘happy ending’ for one person sits like a heavy, brimming golden weight in my gut. To take a chance on someone you’ve known, I’ve known, for only a short period of time. To believe in honesty, and the goodness of my fellow (hu)man.

I had an incredible dinner tonight with two Burmese chaps, one of whom works for the United Nations. I’ll be vauge, as a lot of the things we discussed were said in confidence, and I’ll also say outright that most of the talking came from the fellow who doesn’t work for the UN. His judgements were perhaps more educated guesses than necessary truth, but everything he said pretty much confirmed what I’d already deduced for myself.

I’ve been learning about the process a Burmese person without identification has to go through in order to receive the highly sought after stamp of approval for transfer to a third country. I’ve been learning about the do’s and the do not’s. I’ve been trying my best to understand why some people receive approval to go to the US, the UK, or Australia, within a matter of months, while others appear to wait for years without knowing why.

I met these fellows downstairs at the hotel lobby; we’d greeted each other often in passing, and have been staying at the DK for roughly the same amount of time. We got to chatting one morning, and when I heard that one of the guys was working at a big refugee camp nearby I got straight to the point and asked if he could get me inside. They often ask me how my day at school has been, and tonight they invited me to join them at the night market for dinner. I’ve been a bit lonely since James and Emma left, and while I’d jumped on a couple of backpackers a few nights earlier, it was nice to spend time with other people hanging out in Mae Sot for the long term.

I was quite unprepared for this meal though! We sat down at a place that I learned was their regular joint, and after screening me for likes and dislikes (prawn-yes, squid-no, frogs-I’d try it!) they proceeded to order me the most delectable of feasts, for one. They sat at the table drinking Chang after Chang, talking politics and sharing stories, while filling only my plate. I had a huge delicately deep fried golden fish to myself, a plate of perfectly spiced ‘morning glory’ greens, a plate of mouth watering chicken fried rice, a superbly comforting bowl of traditional clear chicken stock soup, and a plate of teppenyaki-like prawns, apparently all to myself! They kept filling both my glass and plate, calling me ‘little sister’ all the while as they refused my insistent cries that really- I was full- and they should enjoy some of the food themselves before it went cold.

So tonight I learned a few things about the interview process that determines who gets approval to go abroad. It annoyed me how predictably bureaucratic the UN is, that there are ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ answers, that in order to get transfer abroad you have to prove yourself feeble and desperate, without any sort of political drive, any desire to see your country’s situation change, and without any hope. If they ask you, ‘would you go back, if you could?’ and you say ‘why yes of course, I’d love to go home, if I could’ –wrong answer!. If they ask, ‘were you politically active, did you ever fight to try and free your country from the grasp of the demons that currently hold power?’ (The Burmese commonly refer to the junta as demons, as the reincarnation of bad spirits, and from here that doesn’t seem such an unfair portrait). If you answer yes, you are a terrorist, it’s an instant no.

They joke round these parts that even Aung San Suu Kyi herself would be denied refugee status under the UN’s criteria, and the absolute joke is that she actually would! Be denied that is. There are so many people I’ve met here- admirable, good people with brains- who will be denied refugee status because they tried to change the future of their country. Because once upon a time they fought against oppression and injustice, because they wouldn’t stand by and watch their families, their lives, their friends, their homes, their villages, fall to waste. Even if they gave up fighting years ago, decades ago, their application would be utterly rejected. The irony is that one day (maybe I am an optimist) these people will be acknowledged as the freedom fighters they are. They will be celebrated as heroes, and not written off as terrorists.

It costs US$3 000 for a sim card in Burma, and $US50 000 for a second hand car worth only $US3 000 across the border in Thailand. And people wonder why the 12 lane highway in the 9 billion dollar capital city-Naypyidaw- made by the junta, for the junta and their cronies, never has any fucking cars on it.

I’m multitasking- which is never a good idea for me, and I’m getting really riled up by a friend who is online telling me some horrible things, which maybe I need to hear, maybe I don’t. Refuting my arguments with bigoted, over-arching statements about how we should stop feeding Ethiopians because ‘their culture was stupid enough to move to the fucking desert in the first place’. I don’t even know how Ethiopia came into it; I was talking about refugees and Burma.

I am absolutely stuffed! That was a big night, and I’ve been down with a nasty head cold the past few days that I’m trying to get over as it’s impossible to teach English without a voice. At least, to teach it the way I do, which generally involves lots of shouting =)

So I’m heading to the big refugee camp this Wednesday, apparently I’m going to be granted clearance by the UN (which makes me giggle, I hope they don’t read my blog!) and given a pass which allows me through most of the sectors, and lets me use my camera. I’d best head to bed as I’ll need all the rest I can get to ensure I’m chirpy for the unexpected field trip. I’ll be sure to post an update soon after, and will hopefully manage to snap some nice shots. I really have no idea what to expect!