Dear friends,
I spent almost all of the 8-hour bus from Bangkok to Mae Sot in my travels engaged in warm conversation with the woman sitting next to me, traveling with her younger sister and baby niece. She shared with me her blanket, food, and philosophies on family, friends, and contentment. Within the last half hour of our bus ride, the bus stopped, and she & her family abruptly scrambled their things together to rush off the bus. Baffled and embarrassed of my naivety, I asked a Thai girl, “What is going on and why is the family alarmingly taking off?” It was a checkpoint, where Thai police check the buses for drugs and illegal Burmese migrants; and, they were Burmese. There are three possibilities from there: bribe the police to continue her travels, detention, or deportation back to the country she struggled to escape from.
Welcome to Mae Sot.
It has been about three weeks since my move to Mae Sot, Thailand. Within this brief moment of time, I have come across to most appalling and moving of accounts.
Hearing the stories of these people, the struggles, the abuses, and the every-day obstacle of simply living safely, cannot help but push you beside yourself. Yet, at the same time, this bustling little border town is packed with an energy full of light. I have met some of the most courageous and compassionate of people (who are often victims of unspeakable cruelty) who continuously put their lives in a higher risk to help those in their community.
The first individual responsibility that I was requested to take on by fellow BBP teammate, Jack McCarthy, is a clear example of this duality. The story of this family was hard to stomach. The mother was being raped by a Junta soldier when her youngest son, only 10 years old, attacked the solider behind with a knife to save his mother. Immediately after freeing his mother, the family (mother, father, two brothers, and a sister) had to flee in any chance of safety. They eventually found a place to hide away at the Mae La refugee camp: the mother arriving devastatingly traumatized, saying to Jack that all she can picture is the flow of red pouring over her from when the soldier was stabbed while on her. The son was frozen with overpowering anger. It was hard to comprehend that, among the scores of horror stories, this family is considered lucky by many; they were able to flee. It was further difficult to absorb that this instance is just a grain of sand in an ocean.
But then I was reminded of the other side to this story. The light: the women’s group, Karen Women’s Organization, cannot be overlooked. The community organization, themselves refugees who continue their personal struggle in life, provides schooling, safe housing, counseling, and other forms of care for numerous refugees who struggle in meeting mere subsistence. This family unexpectedly arrived at one of the KWO members’ doorsteps, where she took the entire family into her already-packed hut, cared for them, and contacted us to help provide counseling, housing assistance and education for the children. After counseling and follow-up efforts from Jack, I had the chance to meet with family to let them know that we are doing everything we can and that their situation will improve. Seeing the solace in their faces, in thought of the counseling benefits and hopeful prospects, is something I will not forget.
Organizations like KWO are the candles that keep this border town the lit platform for assistance and social change over so many years. For BBP to be having a positive impact in it all, through the generosity of our volunteers, partners, and supporters, cannot be described as anything else but an honor. Since my arrival, we have encountered a number of avenues to strengthen our partnerships on the border and, as a result, our ability to contribute. I am thrilled to share my experiences that I have during my stay here, but enough for now. More on these exciting program developments, my encounters, and moments with our partners to come!
Warmly,
Danielle
I spent almost all of the 8-hour bus from Bangkok to Mae Sot in my travels engaged in warm conversation with the woman sitting next to me, traveling with her younger sister and baby niece. She shared with me her blanket, food, and philosophies on family, friends, and contentment. Within the last half hour of our bus ride, the bus stopped, and she & her family abruptly scrambled their things together to rush off the bus. Baffled and embarrassed of my naivety, I asked a Thai girl, “What is going on and why is the family alarmingly taking off?” It was a checkpoint, where Thai police check the buses for drugs and illegal Burmese migrants; and, they were Burmese. There are three possibilities from there: bribe the police to continue her travels, detention, or deportation back to the country she struggled to escape from.
Welcome to Mae Sot.
It has been about three weeks since my move to Mae Sot, Thailand. Within this brief moment of time, I have come across to most appalling and moving of accounts.
Hearing the stories of these people, the struggles, the abuses, and the every-day obstacle of simply living safely, cannot help but push you beside yourself. Yet, at the same time, this bustling little border town is packed with an energy full of light. I have met some of the most courageous and compassionate of people (who are often victims of unspeakable cruelty) who continuously put their lives in a higher risk to help those in their community.
The first individual responsibility that I was requested to take on by fellow BBP teammate, Jack McCarthy, is a clear example of this duality. The story of this family was hard to stomach. The mother was being raped by a Junta soldier when her youngest son, only 10 years old, attacked the solider behind with a knife to save his mother. Immediately after freeing his mother, the family (mother, father, two brothers, and a sister) had to flee in any chance of safety. They eventually found a place to hide away at the Mae La refugee camp: the mother arriving devastatingly traumatized, saying to Jack that all she can picture is the flow of red pouring over her from when the soldier was stabbed while on her. The son was frozen with overpowering anger. It was hard to comprehend that, among the scores of horror stories, this family is considered lucky by many; they were able to flee. It was further difficult to absorb that this instance is just a grain of sand in an ocean.
But then I was reminded of the other side to this story. The light: the women’s group, Karen Women’s Organization, cannot be overlooked. The community organization, themselves refugees who continue their personal struggle in life, provides schooling, safe housing, counseling, and other forms of care for numerous refugees who struggle in meeting mere subsistence. This family unexpectedly arrived at one of the KWO members’ doorsteps, where she took the entire family into her already-packed hut, cared for them, and contacted us to help provide counseling, housing assistance and education for the children. After counseling and follow-up efforts from Jack, I had the chance to meet with family to let them know that we are doing everything we can and that their situation will improve. Seeing the solace in their faces, in thought of the counseling benefits and hopeful prospects, is something I will not forget.
Organizations like KWO are the candles that keep this border town the lit platform for assistance and social change over so many years. For BBP to be having a positive impact in it all, through the generosity of our volunteers, partners, and supporters, cannot be described as anything else but an honor. Since my arrival, we have encountered a number of avenues to strengthen our partnerships on the border and, as a result, our ability to contribute. I am thrilled to share my experiences that I have during my stay here, but enough for now. More on these exciting program developments, my encounters, and moments with our partners to come!
Warmly,
Danielle
posted by Danielle Fox at
10:20 PM
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