I was thinking... about external relations

This was planned to be a post about my organization, but then I began to walk on a berry trip in the thoughts/vandre på bærtur i tankene (write down what I was thinking about). Here is what I found:

My time here in Mae Sot has been spent on working on “external relations” for this organization. (What is the difference between external and public relations (PR: ER?!)?) The term external relations makes me think of important work which you need a lot of knowledge to do, and, secondly, something I would never be able to do. But I kind of have done it here. It feels a bit like when you write about your skills and experience in a job application. You do not lie, but you maybe sound a little bit more fancy and serious than you really are. It often turn out that way because you have to give the short version, like when you present your self to someone for the first time;

“So who are you, what are you doing?”

“Well, since you ask... Lately I have been working on external relations for a local organization who administrates the education system for 140 000 refugees on the Thai-Burmese border. Before that I was in India doing awareness work and patrolling a protected area on an environmental project, and before that again I taught English at a governmental school, also in India.”

Sounds quite convincing that I am a skilled, daring and adaptive person, does it not? And in the case of a job application; a person you (hopefully) would like to have as your new employee. What I just have not mentioned is that in Thailand I was sitting in front of my computer most of the time, either trying to understand things I did not understand or on Facebook. In India we managed to close down the environmental project (our part of it) because there was no project and in the governmental school I was teaching the letters A-R to eight children and they only knew the letters A-K when I left.

So what am I trying to say? When you think about your own life it usually never seems very exiting, glamorous or daring. I think that it is just because you know the whole truth about it; you know all the things you did in between the exiting, glamorous or daring things. All the time you spent on eating breakfast, sleeping, checking Facebook, watching TV or being fed up of everyone around you. No wonder that the percentage of “happenings” in your life is lower then in everybody else's; you have to divide them on every minute of you life, not just the small glimpses that you see of other peoples life. And, as if that is not enough to make your life more boring than that of the guy next door; it also seem like we tend to summarize each and everybody else's experiences and then compare it to our own. Everyone else seem to have been to every country in the world! Yes, they have in total, but not each and everyone alone. There is just no chance of winning. So what to do? Maybe change the way we think. For example make a list of your own life and then a list of each person you usually compare your selves to and check the validity of your perception of your life.

Even though I “lately have been working on external relations for a local organization who administrates the education system for 140 000 refugees and so on” I do not feel like a skilled, daring and adaptive person. I have never had a real job in my life! No children. No responsibility. But, after a second thought, I do think that I am quite adaptive. And I did dare to travel far away from home. Skilled? I do not know... That one depends on the context!

What made me think about this? The British royal wedding. So much publicity and money and cheering and crying people, and then it strikes you: this people also go to the bathroom, most probably they do it everyday too.

PS I: Let us (me) hope that no potential future employer is checking my name on the internet and read this. I am not planning to lie in my application, but maybe make my self sound a little bit more fancy and skilled than I really am.

PS II: Writing down my thoughts and publish it on the internet; What kind if external relating is that?

Happy New Year!

(a week ago...)

Thursday, 14th, the people I live with asked Emma and me if we wanted to come with them to Mae Sot and look at the Songkran festival. And again, yes to any suggestion that involves fun and "entering the unknown". We tried to ask what we should bring, what to wear, and what are we actually doing?! Finally we understood that we better not bring anything; we were going to be wet! How did we understand this? They loaded an empty barrel on the bed of our truck and began filling it up with water!

The point of the festival is to wash of everything bad from the old year, and enter the new one clean and new-washed. And then you add some loud music and a little bit of alcohol and you have got "Songkran"! It is around 32 degrees celsius here everyday, so it is no problem if you get soaked. BUT, it was still icecold to get splashed with icewater; water with ice cubes! The problem was if your truck got stuck next to a truck or "stand" by the road with icewater. The main streets are one-way streets with two lanes and the traffic moved in 10 km/h, if it was not standing completely still. If you had bad luck you got stuck next to a barrel of icewater. And of course you are a especially attractive target if you are a foreigner!

Pamo was going to sit inside the car and took pictures for me. Thank you!

There is text to the pictures in Picasa. 

Living Jungle Life

 

It is HOT: consider how you feel after a spinning or aerobic lesson when it comes to being red in the face, sweaty and urge for a shower before you meet anyone you know and have to talk to... That is how I feel from 7 am to 11 pm every day. And the shower is of no use. When I was jogging/walking this morning it actually dripped from my face. I do not think I have experienced that before. It is HOT, and we do not exactly have air condition here.

Thailand got lots of jungle and a large areas of it is protected in national parks. Here you have a good chance to experience real jungle life. And experience close up meetings with the animal kingdom, especially crawling bugs in various sizes. Now, this can probably be very interesting and fascinating if you go out there and look for them. But, as a matter of fact, have I not gone out there actively seeking to meet all these bugs; I live in a residential area, for Gods sake. And I think that my choice should be respected! Some pictures to show you our neighborhood:

In my months here in tropical areas I have had a lot of joy from photographing different insects, bugs, frogs and lizards, and I do appreciate their willingness to be photo models. I am not a ungrateful person (most of the time). I even put my pride in respecting them as fellow citizens of the planet Earth.

Just a little break; I am going for lunch. Wonder what is being served today? Oh, surprise; a pile of rice! (Deep) fried eggs especially made for me and some fried cabbage and a yellow soup. No pink-water-soup-made-from-leaves-from-trees or fried plants with spikes today. Yesterday we had fried fish, rice and raw baby eggplant. It was really good. I like everything (almost) they make with fish, chicken and meat, I like the rice, and I like some of the green plants too. For example the one we areserved with stem, leaves, root and flower, and the one that looks like tulips and the salads. But I am not that fond of the soups with gourd or the yellow porridge with some kind of grain/grits/beans/something. Everyone who has been in Thailand tells me to enjoy all the food here. Well, we do not eat Thai food, but Burmese/Karen food. I think it is nutritious enough, but maybe not gourmet. Actually am I eating rice from refugee rations. Hmm, I hope I can raise some funds through the website so I can make amends for eating UN rice. Our cook just came in with a bowl of sticky-rice balls and sago porridge. Sweet, taste good, but half the bowl is enough.

Back to the crawling bugs in various sizes. Where was I? Ah, yes, respecting the bugs we inhabit this earth together with. As you might have sensed by now there is something that has rocked with my faith in peaceful coexistence. Let me begin with a story from this morning, just to set the mood. Faint-harted people should maybe skip the rest of this paragraph... There was a 15 cm long millipede in the garden. It was just minding its own business when somebody by accident managed to cut of its “end”. Not very happy about this the millipede first twisted and turned around itself before it headed for a hiding place. It was obviously not planning to die there and then. But on the way it ran into a little problem. The “end” was not cut completely of and it got stuck between some plants. The millipede continued its rush towards its spotted hiding place but with some more difficulty as its internal organs was being drawn out of its body and left on the ground stuck to the truncated part of its body. Finally it reached its hiding spot. I wonder where it is now? (For the record, the hiding place was under our sofa; there is no wall between the garden and the sofa in the office) Is it dead or is it alive planning a conspiracy with its bigger and poisonous cousins to come back and get revenge on the humans who made it suffer like this?

I was not directly a participant of these events, just an ambivalent audience. The next stories are involving me in a larger degree. First it was the spider in my teacup. That can happen to anyone, but I discovered this one when I was taking the final sip of tea, making sure that I was not leaving any tea in my cup. Well, it was a small one an it was still alive when I let it out on the grass where it ran away.

Then there was the toad in my jogging shoe. Here I had good luck; I was coincidentally emptying my shoe for sand this particular morning when something like a big lump fell out on my hand and jumped away. I do not dare to think how the story would go if I had not tried to get the sand out of my shoe before putting my feet into it. Now I keep my shoes on the first floor, not ground floor.

Next up is the ants! They are just everywhere. For example did they find crumbs of peanuts in my jacket pocket. My jacket was hanging on a hanger on a free standing coat stand. How did they figure out that it was something eatable there?! But no hurt feelings; feel free to take my peanut crumbs, dear ants. But do stay away from my computer!! Ants likes electronics. And I have a ant path crossing my desk. It was doomed to only be a question about time before they would try to conquer my notebook! As I was sitting typing one day I saw them come crawling out of the keyboard. After a battle that claimed the lives of several ants and a tactical relocation of my desk away from the wall I claimed my self the victory of the battle. But safety in numbers; the ants are still living in the stationary computers in the office and the toaster.

I only have one more story for this time. Dad, I understand now why there was a lid on the bucket with water in the bathroom in Ninio. I was taking a bucket shower the other day when I discovered something swimming in the water. I was filling my hands with water to wash my face when I saw them. They were small, but there was many of them; mosquito larvas! THAT is a declaration of war!

Breeding ground for Dengue mosquitos!

"Graduation tour"

Last post was supposed to be about our trip to the refugee camps, and it sort-of ended up being that too, but here is a more comprehensive or descriptive account from the trip.

First of all; it was a lot of driving! We were supposed to go to five camps. Or, let me take it from the beginning; our organization asked if Emma and I wanted to come with them to the graduation ceremonies in the refugee camps several weeks ago. I must admit that I had no idea what that implied. I had just shortly been in one of the camps before (at the wedding) and I have never been to a college graduation. We do not do that in Norway. How should I know how they do it in Karen refugee camps? I generally just say yes to any invitation around here. But one week before the graduation we were told that we did not have camp pass so we would not be able to go. The camp passes have to be applied for two months in advance. I did not know what we would miss, so OK. Then the higher education staff talked a lot together in Karen and said that they would try after all. Two days later we suddenly had camp passes and could join the graduations.

We were supposed to go to graduation in five camps, but finally we went to four camps because one camp had initiated a stricter security policy and we did not get camp pass there. Two of the camps we went to are situated about six hours drive south of Mae Sot and the two others are a six hours drive to the north. The two first graduations were on Monday and Tuesday and we spent the nights in the camps. Then we had one night back at the office in Mae Sot before we went north to graduation on Thursday and Friday. Here we also sleept in the camps. The graduation ceremonies were held early in the morning before it got to hot and we also had rehearsals the evenings before.

Sunday 3^rd of April we left at 6 am headed for Nupo refugee camp. We drove with some Thai people we had never met before and they did not speak English. The staff from the our organization would come later. Well, we supposed that they knew what they were doing. And they did, until we got to the camp. Then they managed to ask in broken English; where are you going? We had no idea. Something about school something. And we got a name on one of the teachers. Fortunately there was one student in the car with us (on the bed of the 4x truck; that is how they do it here). She spoke English and knew the school. We met more incredible sweet students and found the teacher. They took very good care of us and we got to buy longyi (see picture) that we could wear for the ceremony.

Hmm, now what to write... I really do not know how to express the experience. When you are there you meet a lot of very nice people; students and teachers and they are really not that different from you and me. They speak well English and we could easily communicate. So on one hand it is the most natural thing in the world: we are as any other guests and they thanked us for sharing our time with them. They told us what they study: Teacher, Global border studies, Agriculture, Liberal Arts. It is just the same as students study anywhere in the world, including back home. So the immediate experience is just like any other meeting between people. But then the circumstances are from another world.

A student told me that she was in the camp to study because there are very limited opportunities for higher education in Burma. (The junta closes the universities all the time, underfund the education system and do not allow the ethnic groups to teach in their own language or their own culture/history. The education is neglected by the government so the only real opportunity for education is in the military.) Then she explained that education was much better in the camp because here the education was not interrupted. In Burma they would have to run and hide in the jungle ever time the Burmese military came. Compared to this the life in closed, crowded camps are attractive. They at least have their own education system. There is a documentary film following two refugee families who resettles in a Britain. The descriptive title is “Moving to Mars” and tells us something about the extreme difference there is between life in British city and in refugee camps on the Thai-Burma border.

The students we met study and speak English as us, but they are confined in closed camps. If they are caught by the Thai police outside the camp they can be sent back to Burma where they risk their life. But then; how can they use their education? They have basically two options; either become teachers in the camps or to work for a CBO (Community Based Organisation) or an INGO (International Non-Governmental Organization). In any case they are dependent on foreign aid because they are not allowed to attain income generating work outside the camps. When (notice when, and not if) I get the website up and running you can read more about the education situation in the refugee camps. Until then just ask me for suggestions for further reading!

So my role was to be photographer as I was reflecting a little about in the last post in my blog. I took hundreds of photos from the ceremonies, but just a few from the camps. It just feels bad to see camp life through the camera lens. At the same time as I wish to take good pictures to show to you back home. And I also got the legitimacy as it would be for the website of the camps own “education department” as this organization de facto is. But the pictures would be used to make people feel “sorry” for the refugees and open their valets for donations. The picture I added in the last post was to make a point of what kind of pictures we often see from refugee camps, and therefore expect to see. The pictures I want to show here is from Graduation (in refugee camps) as opposed to (graduation in) Refugee camps.
(The pictures are from all the four graduations.) 

(Three chickens just came into the office. They look a little confused. Now they left again.)

George Orwell in Burma

This was supposed to be a post about last week's "Graduation tour" in four refugee camps, but the I got caught up in the world wide web of internet, and now it is time to go to sleep. But here is some of what I have been looking at tonight.

First of all some more about the film, Enjoying Powerty, I mentioned in last post. This is a clip from a interview with the maker of the film, Renzo Martens.

Here is his website. You can read about the film Enjoying Poverty under "Episode III"

http://www.rmma.nl/home

And then I suddenly came across this travel article from Time. Or, not suddenly; I was about to write about Burma when I wanted to check out what I had heard about George Orwell 's books being "about" the military dictatorship in Burma. This is how far I got writing before I begun reading instead:

"Geographically I am in Thailand, but that is about it. I am volunteering in a Karen organization, working with Karen people and eating Karen food. I could just as well have been in Karen State. Except that Karen State is inside Burma, and Burma is run by a military dictatorship burning villages in Karen State. Not a safe place to be. Mae Sot in Thailand is a safe place.

"Karen" is a people living in Burma. I think I have heard the number 2 million about how many they are. They do have kind of their own state, or an area controlled by the Karen rebellion army, which of course is not recognized by the Burmese authorities. They have been in a civil war for more or less 60 years, since Burma got its independence from the British some years after World War II. Among the results is 140 000 (registered) Karen refugees temporarily sheltered along the Thai-Burma border in enclosed refugee camps..."

Back to George Orwell! Orwell was stationed in the British police in Burma for five years when it was a colony. Back again in Europe he wrote a book Burmese Days. It was first published in USA in 1934. This facts I had to check on Wikipedia, and my distraction was a fact. This book was (very) critical to the British colony rule. Later Orwell wrote, as we all know, Animal Farm (1945) and Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949). I was a little confused about the chronology, because how could these books be about the dictatorship in Burma when they were written before the military came to power? Ergo, the books are not about-about Burma, but can be read as an analogy to the last half century of Burma's history.

And back to the Time article about George Orwell in Burma. Here it is: http://www.time.com/time/asia/traveler/021017/orwell.html
(Another literature tips is the novel Finding George Orwell in Burma. I have not read it yet, but it is next on my reading list.)

I loved this quote from the article:

"I began to feel a bit like a fish in an aquarium surrounded by glass-tapping kids."

I kind of understand the feeling, even though I have not been exposed to it to the same extent. I think maybe Vegar (195 cm tall and white) in India had more of a glass-tapping experience.

My next thought is what is going on when combining this feeling of being glass-tapped with the issues Renzo Martens brings up in Enjoying poverty. I think it illuminates some of the feeling of walking around in four Karen refugee camp on "Graduation tour" with a SLR camera hanging in a strap around my neck. This post was supposed to be about that and maybe it ended up being that too.

 

Weekends in Mae Sot

Most of the time here in Mae Sot I spend either by my desk staring at my 11" computer/notebook screen, or on my mattress under the mosquito net (the one Emma and I share) staring at my 11" computer/notebook screen. So what is there to blog about?

Small things like that the cook do not let us (Emma and me) clean our dishes; he takes them out of our hands if he has to. Why? Other people here clean their own dishes. Is it because we are guests? Does he not think that we do it right? I do not know!

And that we have introduced the mosquito zapper to the office! Stig, you know the electrical mosquito swatter that grill the bugs with electrical shock. And when you hit one it sounds like firework. Emma bought one and then Sunny went out and got one and now we are getting really skilled in mosquito zapping! Every evening is like New Years Eve:-)

What else?

You have to take of your shoes before you enter a shop.

We can buy whole wheat bagels from a Canadian who has settled here and runs a breakfast restaurant with western food for western volunteers and aid workers.

Western volunteers get drunk every weekend.

We are being woken up at about 6.15 every morning by roosters, trucks, dogs and talking from outside, singing and keyboard playing from down stairs, and radio/music/chanting broadcasting from the temple across the street.

And then there is Thai television. Each actor have two expressions they change between: confused what-is-going-on-here and devastated crying. There is one show about some tiger girls. It is full of action, and when the three heroines and one hero are fighting they are "tigers" wearing tiger masks. So they kind of live a double life, because no one knows that they are The Tigers. And then there is a fake tiger, and she is the bad one! This is all we have understood so far; there are no subtitles...

Moer to write about? We have actually been a little bit around in the weekends:

We went to a cave the first weekend. It was supposed to be one hour drive north of Mae Sot, but it took us 2 1/2 hour on our rented scooters to get there. Our behinds were aching! The entrance of the cave did not look so impressive and I was not sure if it was worth the scooter ride, but then we walked further in and it was an amazing stalactite cave. By the way, Americans have some strange food habits... We were two Norwegians (yes, I have run into a Bergenser here), one British guy and nine Americans on the trip and some of the Americans were trusted with the responsibility to bring food. The food they brought was bread, peanut butter and strawberry jelly. The important part is that both the peanut butter and the strawberry jelly goes on the bread at the same time! Mmm, or? I am not convinced... I have, by the way, learned the difference between jelly and jello. Jello is short for gelatin and is the dessert or other shaking substances, and jelly is jam without pieces of fruit in it (but it is used about jam with pieces of fruit also! (?)) So, my question it then; why is jellyfish called jellyfish?!

The Sunday after the cave trip, we (still Emma and me) were invited to a wedding in one of the camps. One of the girls working in organization got married and all the staff was going. It was a very nice opportunity to visit one of the camps on a happy occasion.

The last picture album is from a overnight trip to a national park one hour east of Mae Sot. The main attraction is a waterfall, or more correct a small river with five waterfalls. There is a nice trail following the river. We were four girls this time and we had a very relaxed weekend with some easy hiking. We spent the night in small cabins with lots of ants. The bathroom by the restaurant was so fresh and nice I had to take a picture. Notice the green plant! On our way back we had a strange waiting-for-the-bus-experience. It was a good walk down to the main road from the cabins so the resort/national park staff drove us down and took us to the bus stop. Or more specific: police road check point. This confused us a little bit... There are not so many Thais speaking English, but is seemed as if they knew what they were doing. So there we were; at a police road check point, eating our lunch from plastic bags (tasting delicious) and drinking water/coffee the police offered us for TWO HOURS! I think that the thing was that we were going with minibuses, and they fill up at the bus station and leave when they are full. Since we were getting on in the middle of nowhere there would not be any free seats for us. So the clue was that the police called the bus station and told the driver that there would be four tourists coming on so he should leave four seats free. We did not really understand why it took two hours and seven minibuses before one would pick us up (we were about 15 minutes from the bus station). But we had a good time in each others company and also got a good story about some packages that were thrown to the police from some trucks... More about that another time;-)

Tomorrow, Sunday, we have to get up at 6 o'clock because we are going to Graduation in a refugee camp six hours from here. We are joining with the excuse that Emma is going to be the English MC at the Graduation ceremony and I am going to be photographer. The next eight days are we going to five Junior College Graduations in five camps. We are very exited to go. Or, I should may not use "exited" about going to see refugee camps. But it is true, because we want to go there because we are curious about how they look like and how people are living there. I am also happy about being appointed to "photographer" so I have an excuse to bring my camera and run around taking pictures. I hope I have some clever thoughts to share about this next time I am writing. In the mean while I will recommend a film called "Enjoy poverty", directed by the Dutch artist Renzo Martens asking the question "Who owns poverty?". It is a disturbing film, but should be mandatory for all volunteers and aid workers. I do not say that he is right, but he certainly ask a question that deserve some thoughts.