Umphang Water Falls

We took a windy, vomit-producing road through the mountains to Umphang. It is nicknamed "Death Highway" because of all the dangerous curves (1,219 to be exact- I have no clue who could have counted these; my eyes were shut almost the whole way just trying to keep my coconut cookies and soy milk down). I did peek a little when the drivers played Michael Jackson's Thriller music video on the TV screen. This was a welcome distraction from the romantic love ballads they played when we first jumped in the van. It was actually pretty nice of them since neither of the drivers spoke English.

We got to the hostel and our room ended being a BED room literally. Two huge kind size bed s side-by-side took up the entire room with a tiny little walk way in front of them. We practiced our somersaults and cartwheels.
I locked our key in the door and tried to get let in. I tried to motion to the hostel owner what i needed. He motioned for me to wait. Ten minutes later he returned and handed me his phone. I was confused but answered the phone. It was an English speaking man who was able to translate for me :) After I had been let into the room, I took a shower in the toilet room (their was a shower head next to the toilet). When I opened the door their was the housekeeper gesturing no to me and speaking loudly in Thai. I have no clue what she was saying, but I think it was probably do not shower in the toilet. The language barrier is pretty funny :)

The next morning we took this great peaceful rafting trip down a pristine wooded area. It was beautiful. We dipped under a small waterfall to wake up. Shortly after we arrived at the hot spring. We all relaxed in the natural warm water pool. The guide (his name is Boom Boom) said "no men" as he pointed towards his nether regions. The guys thought about this for a moment and then began to laugh realising the guide was implying sitting in the hot water would make them infertile.

Our Thai fan club (a huge tour group of Thai older ladies saying they loved the 'big guy' and who kept ended up at every place we went) snapped many pictures of us everywhere we were: hot springs, waterfall, walking, etc. It was funny to have the situation reversed on us. We were the attraction.

We took this really bumpy dirt road (we had to wear masks, since we were riding in the back of a pickup truck) and arrived at a gorgeous waterfall. It was amazing. On of the prettiest things I have ever seen. Lush green vegetation, mist everywhere from the rushing water. We got to play in the falls for hours. We climbed up on the rocks, went behind the falls, and swam and floated all through the water right next to the falls. The mist was spraying our faces and we found some cool cave-like areas. Gorgeous and so peaceful. It was my favorite!! I wish we could have stayed all day.

Ben jumped off one of the cliffs; he'd been looking for a good spot to do it from all day. The guide told him the exact spot to jump from. He said it was exhilarating.

Later we stopped at a Karen hill village
and an orange grove. We ate really delicious fresh oranges.

The next day we set out at 5:30 am to watch the sunrise from this mountain top. Our Thai fan club again asked for our pictures and I was sure one of them was going to pinch one of the guys butts. The women were hilarious!

Later that day we stopped at another waterfall which was a series of steps. There were hundreds of hill tribe ethinic groups at this waterfall. Each layer of hte falls we climbed up had another traditionally dressed family in black clothing decorated with bright fabric accents, metal dangles, and fun hats. The adults were bathing and the kids were playing. We were quite a spectacle. Even a Thai man ran after us trying to get our picture as we passed him.

The Caves

Ben and I read the map wrong and thought our trip to the caves were about 8 km away. About 25 km and a set of broken handle bars later, we arrived at the hot springs and caves. We saw this group of Western men sitting at this table looking exhausted. They had taken a motorbike there and were just that tired from climbing up, down, and through the mountain and caves. Oh boy, Ben is going to kill me.

We hired a tour guide (a plastered adolescent who spoke Thai to us non-stop regardless of us not understanding a word of what he was slurring). Before we even got to the mountain, we ran into the guide’s young friends, our guide chugged half a bottle of some "thai whiskey" then they offered Ben some of their whiskey (which actually turned out to taste like a cheap watery gas station wine). It was a long climb up, but once we got inside the mountain it was fantastic. We climbed through these tight enclosed spaces and down rickety stair cases. Everything was lit up by spaced out lamps (lots of extension cords). There were plenty of cool looking rock formations, stalagmites and stalactites, and lots of bats (and bat poop). There was a rock where you could see your hand through it.

About an hour into it we reached the deepest point and had to circle around this rock formation 3 times for good luck. At which point, all the lights in the cave started to flicker on and off leaving us in temporary darkness, was this supposed to be our good luck? There was a small cave lake at the bottom and the guide and I went into it. The guide drank from the pond (so did Ben) and I washed my face. About half way in my feet began to sink into the muck at the bottom and I kept losing my shoes and then my feet were getting stuck. It felt like quicksand. I was up to my waist in the water and the guide (half the size of my big self) was up to his shoulders. We were inside a dark crevasse and I could not see much of anything it was so dark. A couple bats whizzed by me. I kept expecting to hear “Precious” and see Sméagol and his ring. Once we turned around and reached shallower land, the guide pointed at this hardened pile and said “Bat guano”. Well, Ben had drunk bat shit (hehe) and I had smeared it all over my face. Not to mention that bat poop, or muck was all over my feet and shoes. When we left the cave lake and headed back out, my sandals would harden and dry, but then I’d put my freshly covered bat guano feet in them and it was like walking on a slip and slide. I just went barefoot the rest of the hour long hike back out of the caves.

On the way out our guide took the offerings laid by other visitors for the cave gods and pocketed it. We made it out of the cave with no incidents and Ben was even able to take another drink from the local boys on our way back to the hot springs. The guide found it hilariously amusing that we had biked to the caves and kept asking us with gestures if we were biking home and telling everyone. Ben and I both, with a large amount of common sense, both scalded our hands when we dipped them into the hot spring. This nice Thai woman handed us both an orange for the road and we were the spectacle of the Thai hot spring picnic crowd. Everyone waved us off.

Dirty, a little tired, and burnt, we set off for home with just a little bit of daylight left. The last km we ate a few mayflies while batting them from our faces, hair and eyes. This random swarm of flies infested Mae Sot for a day and then left. After a total of 50 km, we made it to our favorite pad Thai place in Mae Sot, yummy. We treated ourselves to a Thai massage. I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so much. Between Ben’s facial expressions, the intense positions, the Thai TV station we had in the background, the chili pepper in our eyes (someone was cooking in the back and we all started to cough and cry from the particles floating in the air). The Thai mother and daughter joked I would be able to dance later and that Ben would probably not be able to walk. He got about 3 cramps throughout the massage and the woman would not give up and kept making him stretch. She was sitting between his legs pulling his leg up and over her shoulders while he’s saying Stop! Stop!!! She answers, “Just wait, Just wait” and keeps pulling. Poor Ben.

The Mae Sot Dogs-- A Musical

The Dogs of Mae Sot: The next Broadway Musical (and could someone, please, request the Dog whisperer to visit Mae Sot!)

Ok, these dogs are getting their own section. Not the border rebel fighters with their automatic weapons, not us darting between cars and speeding motorbikes as we pedal, not us running through road construction dodging bobcats and bulldozers who move menacingly close, not the malaria or the dengue fever, but the DOGS! These are by far the most dangerously curious creatures in Mae Sot, The Mae Sot Dogs.

First, you have to recall an old cult classic, The Warriors, maybe mix in a little Westside Story and we’ve got you in the right mindset. So, everyday we get on our bikes, we never know when a Mae Sot dog may growl or bark loudly and menacingly at us, they may chase us, may snap at us, or they may even bite us. During the day, these dogs are solo looking for scraps of food or wreaking havoc on traffic by lying in the middle of the road. Nearly every volunteer (and there are a lot) has had some encounter with a Mae Sot dog. These dogs may just plop right down in the street right where you are biking and not move or even wake up as loud construction trucks rumble by and of course not move for a lowly bicycler. Numerous times we have to stop dead in out tracks just before being run off the road by one of these tough dogs.

So us volunteers have to travel in packs, especially at night. We call ourselves the Bicycler Gang. (hear the fingers snapping). There are usually six or more of us traveling from night market, to our home riding through the busy streets. Late at night everything gets quiet and all that are left are us and the dogs. (more finger snapping). Usually there are just some glares and some growls, but not tonight (dah dun). Tonight, Steff will brave the cold dark streets of Mae Sot, alone… As she comes around the bend in the road she makes a wrong turn and passes a pack of Mae Sot dogs. One dog glares at her from his one beady red eye and shows his fangs. These dogs are veteran street fighters. But they leave her alone. She pedals farther down the street and sees a gun toting man roaming the streets. She realizes she is going down the wrong road and has to turn around and pass this armed man again, and the dogs. He stares at her but no growl. It is eerily quiet.

Steff gets back on the main one-way street leaving the gun wielding man behind her and the first red-eyed dog pack on the corner. As she nears her street she is inching up on two new dog packs standing guard at either end of the street. Some of the dogs are hobbling around on three legs- the unlucky ones. These dogs aren’t your typical American mini pups that you carry around in your purse. These are sad, strange and scary creatures. Steff is not worried by the gun carrying man, but as she nears the Mae Sot dog gangs she shakes inside. She makes it past the first with no problems, but as she nears the next they begin to stir. They stare long and hard at Steff as she begins to cycle closer. Steff remembers watching the Dog Whisperer (good ole Cesar) and makes herself appear calm, cool and Dominate. One dog nears her. He’s missing all of his fur except a patch on his face. Steff gets ready to kick it with her barefoot in sandals (sorry Jackie!) it stops and allows her to pass. She thinks, “Oh yes. I am safe.” She turns the corner and there are more. Oh no! This makes about 25 dogs total, There are still 75 yard between her and the safety of her front gate. She picks up speed and races for the gate. She stumbles with the key as the pack approaches from behind; she makes it inside and survives yet another night against the Mae Sot dogs.

Karen Revolution 60th Anniversary

Janruary 31, 2009

KNU and the KNLA, a brief history
The Karen National Union (KNU) is the political arm of the Karen resistance formed at Burma’s independence from the British in 1948. They proudly fought on the side of the allies against Japan in WWII and were promised by the British that they would receive their independence as an autonomous state when the British left. As any student of history can tell you a powerful nation, or any nation for that matter, choose their foreign policy on self interest and not from a moral sense of right and wrong. So, the Karen were denied their independence that they fought for, so as the new Burmese government took over they resisted, still wanting their independence. Fast forward 60 years and a new terrible occupying force has taken over Burma, this time it’s not colonial Britain or the Empire of Japan, but an ultra oppressive and violent military government sadly run by Burmese. ( I would like to state here that there are over 130 different ethnic groups in Burma, each with its own customs and language, and so when I say that the government is run by the Burmese it means the large Burman ethnic group found in the south of the country. If you ask anyone from Burma where they come from they will respond as to what ethnic minority they are usually, so there is some confusion). And so, after 60 years the Karen ethnic minority is the last group still fighting for freedom.

The Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA) is the military arm of the Karen people and their resistance. We visited the headquarters of the 7^th combat brigade during the 60^th anniversary of the revolution, it is also used as the base for the KNU. In recent times the KNLA have suffered major defeats due to the divide and conquer technique so cunningly employed by the junta. They successfully drove a wedge between the Karen Buddhists and the Karen Christians, getting the Buddhists to fight against the Christians and in effect helping the junta. (We were obviously visiting the Christians). Atrocities and human rights violations have been claimed by both sides, and while the KNLA has admitted to conscripting child soldiers into their forces they have since renounced this practice. The junta on the other hand uses every dirty trick in the book. If this seems interesting to you I urge you to research the conflict and the history of each side: all it takes is a quick google search. Or even easier just copy and paste these addresses and watch a documentary:http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=012_1191912150 or http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=8ef_1192696304 or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hh0MHY--GuU or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUaL0jznP1U, (these documentaries are not on the Karen, but on the whole situation in Burma, but worth the watch)

Getting to the Headquarters

Now that I have talked about all the serious stuff I’ll tell you how we ended up making an illegal crossing into a dangerous country to attend a celebration at a rebel guerilla camp, We had heard that the 60^th anniversary of the Karen revolution was coming up, but we only thought that the Karen population of Mae Sot would be celebrating here in Thailand. Then one day as I was talking to one of the teachers, Aung Khaine, he let me know that he and a lot of the students were actually going into Burma to the KNU headquarters for a massive celebration, and obviously I asked if foreigners were welcome. He said that not only were foreigners welcome but if I wanted I could go with him and the students, “You bet your ass I want to sneak into Burma and party at a rebel camp!!!!!!!!!!” Is what I thought, but I calmly said, “ yes, thank you, that would be nice.”

At the beginning of the week I(steff) had been so excited to go be a part of the Karen freedom-fighter revolution. As the week progressed, I had been talking with some of the local Karen teachers, social workers, and counselors around the area. I was finding a lot of mixed feelings about the Karen revolution. I had thought it was much more black and white. Karen resisting a military junta good, Burmese army bad- nice and simple. A Karen social worker, who is normally quiet and peaceful, became visibly upset when talking about the revolution. She, as others, viewed it as living in the past. She wanted peace, so the 60 years of death and destruction could stop. This splintered group also had become tired of bearing the brunt of providing the aid to the children in need. Some people may view gaining democracy as more important than providing care currently for the children. They say, “Wait until we get our freedom.” Others ask how long will we wait? So many sides: fight to the end for a principle, sign a cease fire agreement and work with a government who has lied repeatedly and will continue to do so, or give in completely and possibly even start working for the SPDC to increase their ability to provide financially and safety for their children. The dynamics are so complicated and there are some many mixed feelings. I was thinking about not going. I really admire the Karen and their unfailing fight for what is right, while I of course can appreciate the desire to spare the children from this and to find a peaceful resolution- to move forward. I was not sure if in my going, I would be indirectly supporting: young soldiers, fighting, an unfailing stubbornness, and an inability to move forward to face reality? Or would I be supporting freedom, resilience, perseverance, dedication, strength, and democracy? I decided to go and experience it for myself.

On the 30^th, 100 plus school children, 4 teachers, and a couple Westerners crammed into 4 trucks with benches in the back bed. Kids were piled onop of each other and lying on the bottom at our feet, we had the back door to the truck bed wide open and no seat belts, there were about 25 of us to a truck bed. Some of the kids had to hold on to the outside of the truck for 3 hours resting only on a small ledge jutting from the back of the truck. We went through 3 Thai police check points. We got stopped at each one the way there. We all got through without any problems, no bribes, or arrests J Going up into northern Thailand the scenery was beautiful. There were high cliffs and lush green vegetation. We passed Mae La Refugee camp along the way. Ben states, “It is a beautiful location for a bad situation.” Three hours later, we reached a huge home in Thailand. The family was wonderful and offered to house all the kids for the night. We did decide to cross the river instead and sleep in the jungle, but not before they treated us to a wonderful (and spicy!) dinner. It was delicious.

Aung Khaine

Aund Khaine , the teacher, and a former political prisoner began to tell us more about his life. He’d gotten polio at the age of 3 months. He was not able to walk until age 9. At age 16 he had become active in a high school democracy movement. In 1984 he was arrested (at age 16!!!!) and placed in jail. He was a political prison at age 16 (I was painting my fingernails and worrying about school dances at that age). He spent 9 months in jail that time (torture is commonly used: electrocution, humiliation, forced to wear leg shackles (remember he has severe physical affects from the polio), emotional torture, no medical treatment, forced labor with leg shackles on, etc). After being released, he went to college. He wanted to study economics. Even after his first experience as a political prisoner Aung Khaine wanted to continue to fight for democracy and against the repressive and deadly military dictatorship. He joined a college student organization while in school. Around 1988, (during the huge student uprising and massive crack down response from the military) he was imprisoned again. They don’t hold fair trails and if you speak out against the government they consider you like a terrorist. This time he spent 10 years in prison. He spent most of his childhood in bed unable to walk, then spent his teen and young adult life in prison being tortured. When he was released he was unable to finish college. Former political prisoners were no longer allowed an education. He moved across the border to Thailand. Once there he found a teaching position for economics and science at the CDC high school. His favorite pastime is to read. He is able to use internet freely and gather news as he wishes (although news about Burma is difficult to find since the junta does not allow journalist into the country unless under tight supervision, and the Burmese citizens are not allowed to see or hear anything that is not censored by the dictatorship). Cell phones do not work in Burma. They are a people who are subject to the whims of the military. Aung Khaine is not Karen but he talked about sometimes wanting to pick up a gun and joining in the fight to end the repression.

As we neared the border, Aung Khaine could not stop smiling. He reported, “I am so happy to be almost home.” (Although his true home is far from where we will be- he is from the Rangoon Division of Burma, but this is the only part of Burma left that is not under the repressive control of the military). As we walked down to the waters edge it was a breathtaking sight, absolutely beautiful. Almostmystical with the energy from the people, the mist over the high mountainside, the bright green water, the long Thai style boats waiting to help us cross (yeah no swimming), and the beautiful tan sands leading into high lush mountain tops. Aung Khaine had never appeared this joyful. He walked to the waters edge and bent down to touch the water. He had a moment to himself and then stated,” I am home. I feel safe.” It was such a stark contrast to how I was feeling when crossing to the headquarters. I was slightly apprehensive, slightly nervous, slightly worried about possible attacks from the Burmese military. He visibly appeared at peace and so many people were saying “this is Burma. Here we do not have to worry about Thai police or the SPDC), and this appeared to be correct. The headquarters, located in a beautiful beautiful wilderness, was surrounded by mountains. Very unlikely for it to be penetrated (unless they launch rockets- as Aung Khaine had joked, funny, but true, so I guess not that funny).

Going into Burma to celebrate a revolution
We got there a day ahead of the official celebration for the pre-celebration. As soon as we stepped off the boat onto Burmese soil there were a couple of rebel soldiers there to greet us with Vietnam vintage M-16’s and AK-47’s and I (ben) noticed one soldier sitting off to the side with a RPG. OK, this was a little unsettling but expected, and these guys were here for our security. The camp itself sits right on the other side of the Moei River separating Thailand from Burma, so it wasn’t like we were trekking through mine infested jungle to get there, although I was willing to do that, and I’m sure Steff was too (Sorry mom). The scenery was amazing, at the other side of the camp was a sheer mountain side protecting the people. When we walked into the camp we were surprised to find that it seemed more like a music festival setting and not like the base for the world’s longest running war. There were lights and food stands and a parade field set up with three stages, that night on one stage they had the traditional Karen dancers, some of whom were students from my school, and on the other stage they were playing rock and roll, some of it really heavy metal but with Karen lyrics, pretty strange. I sampled some of the local foods, including betel nut which is a type of nut that you chew on and it gives you a kind of a mouth buzz, it also makes your teeth turn purple and red, you can always tell the Karen, or anyone from Burma who do betel nut because if they have any teeth left they are stained red. We slept on the ground in a banana grove with the rest of the students, although no one really slept the entire night because it was just too loud and later just too cold. Early the next morning we got up and went to the parade ground where KNU leaders and generals were giving many long speeches as the soldiers stood at attention before them, although many other soldiers still wandered through the crowd.

We met up with some other volunteer friends of ours from the clinic who just got in that morning and watched all the speeches and dancing. Also, Dr. Cynthia Maung, who is the founder and director of the Mae Tao clinic recived an award by the KNU. Then after the speeches it was photo op time and Steff and I walked right up to the KNLA general and got our picture taken with him (we were the only foreigners to do this, there were only about 15 or so other foreigners and most of them were journalist or making a documentary). As we sat at a table eating a mountain of food paid for and prepared by the KNU a Karen man sat down next to me with his soldier buddies and pulled out a bottle of brandy, he offered me a drink, and of course I didn’t want to be rude so I shot it down in true North Carolina fashion. He and his soldier buddies seemed impressed by this and offered me another shot which I graciously accepted, after the third shot he was slapping my back and calling me “Saw Benjamin!!!” which is Mr. Benjamin and picking me up showing me off to his friends at the other tables. I knew if I stayed there any longer I would have to drink his entire bottle so I thanked him and made my escape. As we were leaving there were a couple hundred people gathered on the river bank waiting to get into one of the long river boats to ferry them to the other shore. These boats are designed to hold about 20 people but 50+ were jumping on and nearly tipping over. One person did fall off halfway across and caused a big stir with the crowd watching. I had to help Aung Khaine onto the boat because he suffers from Polio, as I was helping him on everybody tried to jump over us and get onto the boat and it began to tip over, so there I am with Aung Khaine in one hand, holding onto this boat with the other waist deep in the Moei River with about 40 crazy Burmese jumping all around me, I almost didn’t make it, but somehow we all made it on and made it back to Mae Sot safe and sound. It was a hell of a good time.

Monk Faux Pas

Monk faux pas

So first off, let us just say. We are not usually this culturally insensitive and we have really grown to love many of the Buddhist transitions.

The first temple we went to called the Lucky Buddha, was great. We were uncertain of what to do. We were clearly tourist, we are not Buddhist, and we really just came for the experience not to particularly workshop at the temple. The monk at the desk who allowed us to come in was indifferent, he sees dozen of tourist a day. He told us we could take pictures. So awkwardly I begin to take a few pictures of this beautiful golden Buddha (Ben took video). As I was taking pictures, I bump into something behind me and quickly turn around. I see two monks sitting quietly on a table appearing to be meditating. I was so embarrassed and apologized profusely before I realize they were wax statutes. (Giggle). We named then Bob and Aung San.

Next, we partake in a massive bike ride around the countryside of Mae Sot. We head out on a Sunday and appear to have hit the time and day when all monks take baths. There are about 10 dogs guarding all the temples and Buddhas. They growl and bark as we approach. A monk has to come out and quiet them down so we can continue to pass. Very inconvenient for the monks, especially during bathing time, but they always are nice. I kept wondering why they always looked and talked with Ben and not me, but I had gotten use to the gender thing after a temple or two.

We had gone about 30 km with another 30 to go, when we arrived at the farthest temple on our destination. We pulled up exhausted, sweaty, almost out of water, stinky, and bright red. The old monk warmly greeted us. He offered us water bottles. We were so grateful especially since we did not think we would be able to find any water on the way home through the country. Ben shook his hand and I, in my thankfulness, forgot the major taboos of Buddhist monk culture. I reached for the monks hand. The monk quickly moved his hand behind his back and turned his shoulder away from me. Opps. No touching monks Steff. So we explored the compound a bit and we get this bright idea to give the monks our bananas in my backpack as a thank you gift. I pull out the brown warm bananas and Ben tries to hand then to the same monk. He drops both his hands behind his back and shakes his head no. Ben tries again. We were not sure why he said no. We guessed maybe he could not accept fruit from others, or maybe he just did not like old warm brown bananas J We found out later that probably he could not accept them directly from our hands and we were supposed to set them down first. After Ben’s second try of offering the bananas the monk thought maybe we were asking for fresh bananas and tried to give us new ones.

The next weekend we biked back out to the Buddha’s footprint (the place where Buddha is said to have stepped and left a mark) and made the long hike up into the mountain to see this site and get a good view of the countryside. After a long climb, we got to a cave and found a lone monk sitting outside in his living room (a wooden platform structure) hanging out meditating. He gestured us into his cave across from his living room platform to see the Buddha. Soon after entering, we noticed a smaller cave opening behind the gold Buddha statue. The area to get down to it was full of crumbling rock and did not look well used. When we saw a fire glowing in the back I thought, hey this must be the Buddha’s footprint. I started to crawl down into the small opening at the back of the cave. I glanced back out at the monk. He was shaking his head at me trying to politely urge me not to go inside the opening. We went back outside and he told us that is his bedroom. Oops, I tried to climb into a monk’s bed. Chalk that up for one more faux paw.

I was worried I was going around Mae Sot corrupting the monks, but then we found out the sometimes they show up at the clinic with STDs and we see them smoking all the time, so I’m not too worried. I’d like to say this part of the blog would be done, but I think we’ll have a few more stories to add. We’ve had quite a few funny cultural blunders with the volunteers from all over the world as well. Let’s just say pantomime and flash do not mean the same thing everywhere. We also discovered there are a hundred different names to call a male Speedo. My favorite is Ruth’s from Australia, Budgie Smugglers, named after Australian birds…