A quick trip to Umphang:
With Songkran in full swing, my Thai lessons on hold and boredom setting in, I decided on the spur of the cuff to make a quick trip to Umphang, the only tourist–oriented destination around Mae Sot. Buckshot kindly lent me his spare motorbike, a Suzuki 100cc, that he guaranteed would carry me the 164kms to Umphang and back. If I’d thought about it in Imperial units, I might have reconsidered – 100miles on a 100cc bike – are you nuts?  Especially since the bike model was the Suzuki “Crash”! I got more cheer from the brand of the flimsy plastic helmet, “Lucky”! Honestly, I’m not making this stuff up! But since this was my first venture on a motorbike, since I totaled my BSA Bantam in Glasgow, 25 years ago, I was raring to go. I traveled about 40kms, then started to climb into the mountains, which grew wilder and more dramatic as time went on. Halfway there, I passed Umphiem refugee camp, smaller than Mae La, but more remote, and apparently more crowded. I passed several NGO trucks on the road, whose mission it is to feed and care for these unfortunate people. Soon I was climbing into the cloud forest, where I would pass through belts of very cold air and reduced visibility. The scenery by now was spectacular, with cultivated valleys surrounded by jutting, jungle-covered cliffs. With only 40kms to go, everything changed in an instant – I was caught in a torrential downpour! Not too life-threatening, when you are stationary and the temperature is around 100 degrees F, you might think. But with night coming on and traveling at 60kms/hr in blinding rain, I started to get distinctly concerned. Very soon I began to shiver and my teeth started to chatter like castanets. Of course, there was not another vehicle on the road, they all had better sense, and above all, somewhere dry to go to. I had booked into the Trekker Hill Guesthouse, and not Hell nor high water was going to stop me getting there. Just as well, because soon there were torrents of floodwater crossing the road, where particularly steep side roads intersected my road. Just when I thought it would require surgery to remove my death-grip fingers from the handlebars, Umphang, in all its glory, hove into view, through the downpour. The Hill Trekker staff know a stupid fa-rang, close to hypothermia when they see one, and quickly had me in the hot shower, followed by a tasty meal. I expected to sleep well after my ordeal, but it was not to be. When the owner described the guesthouse to me on the phone, as ‘next to the Powerhouse’, I thought, “Oh, that must be a retro bar that specializes in the 70s power trio music of Hendrix and Cream”. I’m afraid not, old boy. It was the generating station for the whole damn town! The noise even overcame my high tech ear plugs, plus the vibrations ploughed right up through the pillow and on into my head. Umphang’s claim to fame is the proximity of spectacular waterfalls and exciting hiking trails, but the rainstorm had made access to the waterfalls impossible. So I did some off-roading on the bike and got to see what life is like for the really isolated Thai farmer. Hard scrabble. All in all, Umphang impressed me as dank, depressed little place, that has a ways to go before becoming the tourist destination it aspires to.
Songkran:
The Water Festival, celebrating Thai New Year happens between April 13th and 15th and this year was no exception. Traditionally, it was a time to visit and pay respect to elders, maybe gently wash the Buddha images in the Wat and generally clean house, literally and spiritually for the coming year. However, more recently, the festival has focused on the watery aspect, and how! For almost a week, young people, and not so young people, station themselves at the side of the road, beside 55gallon drums of water and drench anyone who passes. The unwary farang is a prime target. To counteract these stationary drenching facilities, gangs of youths ride around in Toyota pick ups, like they are Somali ‘technicals’, with two or more 55gallon drums in the bed and dispense their own drenchings. I had to eat dinner a couple of times completely soaked to the skin and dripping onto the restaurant floor. I have to say that it got a little old after a while. But the high point was the big parade, which took about four hours to wend its way down the main street. All morning, trucks full of villagers arrived from outlying areas, all dressed alike, to reinforce community bonding. Everyone in the parade wore the same shirt, hot pink with a procession of cartoon animals going round the bottom edge. The parade was made up of large elaborate floats with traditional Thai themes, often with massive sound systems, each playing a different Thai rock song. In between the floats were hundreds of people on foot, gyrating wildly to the pulsing beat(s), being soaked mercilessly by neighborhood kids.  I even saw the town fire truck dispense  a continuous dousing to the already-drenched revelers. Of course, such  a bacchanalia needs an energy source, and the fuel of choice was Mekhong – the Thai whiskey. Really it’s more like rum, but the old guys and gals in the street were downing it like it was spring water, and then rocking out like youngsters!
Thai Language:
Since Songkran, BGET work has been slow, so I have decided to spend my last two weeks in Mae Sot trying to learn some Thai. I had not made a serious attempt before, because I was very tired each evening from the BGET computer work and, out in the field, I was surrounded by Karen, Mon and Burmese speakers, with hardly a word of Thai spoken. So, armed with my “Thai for Beginners” book  and accompanying CD-Rom, I have dipped my toe into the stream, eddies and sloughs of paa-saa tai, Thai language. But its not at all easy. Thai is a tonal language and mispronunciation of any of the 5 tones can render your otherwise, well crafted sentence complete gobbledey gook. Take the word kaao, for instance. Depending on tone used, this may mean: fishy, news, rice or white. Or, how about bpaa, which can mean: to throw, forest, aunt and father (of a Chinese Thai person). I addition to the tones there are several other intricacies waiting to befuddle the unsuspecting student. Vowels can be long or short, and can be combined into sounds that, for me, involve quite a bit facial gymnastics to even approximate. I am getting pronunciation help from a very kind young man, who has the good grace to go under a name I can pronounce with ease, thank you, Nop!
Thanak and Whitening:
More of a Burmaway than a Thaiway,  Thanaka is a beautifying whitish paste applied to the cheeks of children and women, which serves to protect them from the harsh rays of the sun. But it is not just smeared on, rather, it is applied as a cosmetic, in intricate swirls and geometric patterns.  It is made by grinding up small branches of the Thanaka tree, and adding water to create a paste that has a scent reminiscent of sandalwood.  I find it very attractive, as did the protagonist in “The Piano Tuner”, which I’ve alluded to before. The same cannot be said for the plethora of skin-whitening products, purchased and applied principally by Thai women, to achieve a more western appearance. I got badly sun burned one day, (I foolishly left the house without first applying my Thanaka!), and had to go to the big pharmacy in town to get some aloe vera lotion. I had to wade through about 60 brands of whitening cream products to find one measly bottle of 3% aloe vera. The creams all featured pictures of Thai women who were confusingly eurasian looking, and sported weird jail palors. I have to say that the world wide appeal of skin whitening products leaves me cold and disgusted. I can assure any of these beautiful ladies that they are much more attractive to me, the way God made them, before they apply that muck to their faces. Take it from this peely-wally wee Scotsman!
Plastic:
Plastic is mixed blessing in Thailand. On one hand, almost everything is made out of it, and that means cheap useful products for people with few resources. Every villager has plastic buckets, plastic plates, plastic sandals etc. A striking feature of both rural and urban Thailand is the profusion of blue PVC pipes strung up everywhere. Coming a variety of sizes, these blue snakes make their way from wherever there is a water source to wherever there is a water need. Water on one side of the road, house on the other?  No problem, just run a couple of lengths of blue stick from one tree to another, and you’re done!  And its versatile too. I notice that the bakers of naan bread keep short lengths of the old blue magic stick handy for those lumps of particularly recalcitrant dough. But there’s one Thai habit that butts right into this ocean of plastic and the resulting collision is smelly mess and ecological disaster. Thai people are in the habit of burning their trash, and that now includes all the cast off plastic bags, old flip flops, juice bottles etc. Often, even before the light penetrates my room, here in Fort Buckshot, I awake to  the odor of melted plastic from our neighbor’s fire. Even though, in town, there is a regular and efficient trash collection service and  plastic of all kinds has value on the recycling market, some homeowners still prefer to handle the waste disposal problem themselves, and just burn the whole damn lot!

Bicycles and motorbikes are everywhere and some motorbikes have 4 riders and two of the riders are talking on mobile phones! One of my daily joys is observing the rich mix of people here. Many men and women wearing longyis, the Burmese sarong. A large number of Muslim folk, the men wear kufias, the small pill-box hat, some young girls wear a headscarf. The Chinese trader who has his shop in one of the old wooden buildings and  his house is up above. His daughter goes to school with her arm around her best pal, a Muslim girl. The kids are well-loved. The Indian gem trader, born in Rangoon, haggling with the rich Thai woman from Bangkok. He speaks good English and tries to hustle me into a gem purchase, again and again, but it’s all good-natured banter.

I eat every meal in a different restaurant, trying to remember where the best ones are. Memorable meals so far have included Tea-leaf salad, banana-leaf salad, spicy pork salad, (was warm and included squid, shrimp, glass noodles and lots of lemon-grass and other very aromatic herbs), Bamboo curry and roti ( more like Indian puri, done in oil). Almost all the food is spicy hot, just the way I like it, but there’s a delicate sweetness too. The cost is very reasonable from a 66 cent Pad Thai to a $2 Burmese curry in a place catering to Westerners. The market street is of course a source of great sensual stimulation. Walking through the crowded alley, one can’t fail to notice the buckets of eels, the live frogs tied together with an elastic band, fresh water turtles  and the caged sparrows, all due to end up on somebody’s plate before the day is out.

There are quite few Westerners here, mainly working for NGOs. Apparently, the foreign community is divided by salary level and mode of transportation. Some big aid organizations are well dug in, sending back shocking reports about the plight of the Burmese refugees and getting large donations, much of which goes to pay for their tinted-window SUV, their servants in the big house and junkets to conferences where yet more reports are generated. The rest of us, who volunteer our time for free, ride about earnestly on funky Chinese bicycles and have to buy our own mosquito nets!

The plight of the Karen refugees in the camps is indeed heart-breaking. They are displaced and stateless. The Thai government lets them stay in the camps, but won’t let them leave or give them Thai papers or provide any assistance. That’s where the NGOs come in. But I have had it explained to me that the camp situation is about a lot of money and personnel concentrated on a relatively small population, maybe 150,00, yet not achieving great things. However, just across the border inside Burma, the need is huge and almost unaddressed. I have decided to concentrate on cross-border work. On March 17th we will do a training at a new clinic, serving around 400 internally displaced people. We will install a very small PV system, but even 2 fluorescent lights, a plug to charge a laptop  and batteries for flashlights and the crucial malaria microscope is a huge step forward.

In BGET, the Border Green Energy Team, I work with Salinee, the Director, Muang, the office manager, who are both Thai, and Thai, Sunti and Em, who are all solar technicians and are Thai Karen, born in the camps or nearby. (I realize there are a lot of Thais in that sentence,  but one of our techs really is called Thai). Plus there’s Jennifer, who is from the US. They are all in their twenties and have much fun together. Muang likes to listen to Thai and American bubblegum pop songs all day, and sing along with them. I’ve only been in the office a week and now I can just about sing along with them too! Tomorrow I will start 1 hr a day Thai language with Muang. To keep it serious, she’s charging me $3 an hour. You can see photos of everybody by going to www.bget.org and clicking on About Us, then Staff.  Right now my work centers around preparations for the two trainings I will do – customizing the training manuals, deciding who will teach what, checking that all the equipment works and communicating with the leaders of the groups we are training. I am also training our technicians, giving them a more in depth understanding of PV and batteries. They are very receptive and appreciative. An old, experienced codger like me gets a lot of respect in Thailand!

I feel very healthy. The weather is great. Since Mae Sot is in the hills  it is cooler than Chiang Mai was. The mornings and evenings are perfect for cycling, though it gets a wee bit clammy in the late afternoon. I’m eating so much, it’s just as well I have to cycle everywhere! Right now it’s the end of the cool season and soon the hot season will begin. We’ll see if I’m still loving the weather in April, when it really gets toasty!
But Mae Sot is a deceptive little town. After the daylight hours of tranquility and harmony, there lies an underbelly of crime, exploitation and political intrigue. I know this from reading “Restless Souls” by Phil Thornton and having his information confirmed by long-time residents.

Yesterday, Feb 29th, was a special day. The BGET team revisited the refugee camp at Mae La. It’s about an hour north of Mae Sot and is the largest of the several camps up and down the border, with a population of 60-70,000. It was established in 1990 and is mainly populated by Karen. The Karen are a unique people. They had a creation myth that said that their younger white brother would come back some day, returning to them their long lost book. Well, when the American Baptist missionaries arrived here in the late 1800s, many of the Karen converted to Christianity. Now 40% are Christian, the remainder being Buddhist and Animist. The whole 6 hours we were in the camp, I could hear Christian songs being sung to guitar accompaniment. The conditions in the camp are crowded, the buildings are often makeshift and the level of poverty is palpable. Most people will not be resettled to 3rd countries, and will remain there till the Thai government’s policy changes. But what is striking is that the Karen have maintained their dignity and their cultural cohesion and do not exhibit the hopeless and desperation one might expect. On the contrary, they are focused on the future and education plays a large part in the camp. I wandered into High School #2 and spoke to the headmaster. There are over 30,000 children in 16 Primary, 8 Middle and 10 High Schools established in Mae La in 1996. Classes include Bible, Karen, Thai, English and Burmese languages, History, Geography, Math and Science. There is vocational training too and I visited a rudimentary metal-working shop. There is a computer learning center that BGET installed the electrical power for. The system is a 1Kw PV array with diesel generator back-up. They have internet connection and mobile phones work there too. We were there this time to do a presentation to the students in the Engineering Studies Program on a Micro Hydro system that BGET had installed at another location, with the assistance of 7 of the ESP students. It’s difficult to get permission for camp residents to leave, but in this case it was obtained. So, the BGET team and the 7 participating students did a PowerPoint presentation in English and Karen, to about 20 other students and the Director of the ESP. English language skills are pretty strong in the camp. We were treated to an elaborate lunch of fish soup, cabbage salad, chicken and sweet and sour soup. It was humbling to be so feted by people who have so little. The ESP students are about 17-25 years old and seem a cohesive group with great camaraderie and constant joking and laughter. The Karen are obviously an extremely resourceful and enduring people. I just hope they can get back to their homeland, Karen State, just over the border, called Kawthoolei, in Karen language.

And then there is Oscar. He walked into BGET office looking like the Kung Fu master of ‘Little Grasshopper’ fame, who had been given the clothes that were left after Woodstock went home. He is 65, born Karen in Burma, but resettled in the US in 1968, by his father’s employer, a Scot. His education was old school British and he can recite long passages from Walter Scott’s ‘Lochinvar’ and Shakespeare’s ‘As you like it’. After 40 years in the US, trained as structural engineer, he has returned to help his people and rediscover his roots. He’s a gas, and I’m sure he will appear in future epistles from the border.