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A little girl held my index finger for forty-five minutes today at the Karen Refugee camp Mae Ra, seventy kilometers north of the Thai/Myanmar border town of Mae Sot. Her small palm fit perfectly around my pointer finger. She walked with tiny, quick strides, striving to keep up as I wandered through the camp. Every once in awhile I’d look down at the top of her little bald head, dirty from playing in the dust, and she’d look back up at me and smile. Her smile was the kind of thing that makes smiling back the only thing you want to do in the whole world.  The two of us were joined by Monchu, a Karen man who’d introduced himself to me an hour earlier. Monchu had big eyes, straight black hair, and dirty teeth. He spoke a little English, and told me he taught at the Junior High school here at the camp. Together, the three of us wandered through a maze of bamboo bungalows. The homes were framed on logs stilts that propped them a meter or two off the ground. Their roofs were made of thick, dry leaves, and the walls of bamboo stems, cut in half longways and lined tightly together. The homes blanketed the foothills of a large mountain, whose gray stone cliff face made a stunning backdrop behind the camp. From the road, this massive collection of bungalows looked like a beautiful mountain city built of natural materials in the Thai forest. But from these winding pathways on the inside, this is no idyllic collection of huts. It is a crowded, trash-filled maze, where shoeless, dirty children run unattended and adults wander aimlessly with nothing to do.

Steve Grove is a recent college graduate who just finished teaching English for a year in Japan. After returning from travels in Thailand to his hometown of Northfield, Minnesota, he left for India traveling and exploring volunteer opportunities. He is twenty-four. . Additional Resources Expatriate Search Tools  Expat Classified Ads  Travel Links  Overseas Jobs  Living Overseas  Unique Lifestyles  Regional Directory  Maps Of The World  World's Newspapers  Hospitals Worldwide  World Reference Desk  Articles on Living Overseas  Contact author Steve Grove  .

Through intermittent puffs of smoke from his Burmese cigar, Monchu tells me as much as he can about the plight of his people, who’ve been fleeing persecution in Myanmar (or Burma, as it was called under British rule) for over 25 years. The Karen are a semi-nomadic tribe who traditionally live in the hills and pay little attention to nationhood. The State Development and Peace Council (SPCD) is Myanmar’s ruling military junta, and they want to bring all ethnic groups under their control. Their campaign is a bloody one, aimed directly at the civilian population as a way to bring the Karen to their knees. The Karen here in Mae Ra were subject to mass forced relocations, the destruction of their villages and economies, and even forced labor back in their homeland. Many sat helplessly while their villages were burnt to the ground. The past three years, the conflict has grown especially tense.
 

The Thai military started setting up refugee camps around twenty years ago. Before the fall of 1997, permission to enter the camp was generally easy to get. But recently, with the massive influx of Karen, the Thai policy has changed to deny asylum to all new refugees except those “temporary fleeing fighting.” The Thai Military’s definition of “fighting” doesn’t always match up with the Karen definition, and refugees often find themselves shifted around by yet another group of men with guns when they cross the border. Monchu has been here for over ten years. His daughter is one of many Karen children born at the camp here in Thailand, and it’s difficult to determine if she’ll see her father’s homeland anytime soon. At age three, no doubt she knows nothing of the border politics as she plays with her friends in the dirt. Twenty or so children are gathered here near Monchu’s home, laughing with each other while Monchu’s wife and another Karen woman boil white noodles in a large pot for dinner. But not every member of the family is lucky enough to eat at the same dinner table.

Karen children pose for a picture in the camp at Mae Ra

“My mother and father are too old to come here,” Monchu explains. “They can’t make the trip.” 

I ask Monchu if he has been back to Myanmar since he left over 10 years ago.

“No,” he says softly, shaking his head. His parents-in-law, however, are here. “We all live together in my home,” Monchu smiles. “Very small.” His one-room dwelling looks about 150 square feet, and I doubt if it is used much for anything but sleeping.
 

With no electricity and no plumbing, the refugee camp at Mae La shuts down early at night. But now, during the day, it is alive; and nothing less than a small city. Small lean-tos, much like the homes, sell small necessities like soap, bread, and fish. Other items include cheap plastic bottles of orange kool-aid, Burmese cigars, small candies, and clothes the refugees make on their own looms. The economy of a refugee camp. Karen Refugees of all ages man these stands, their faces splashed in a gold-colored make-up they use both as a sun block and a fashion statement.  The refugee camp here at Mae Rae is host to many Western Volunteer organizations, but I don’t see any volunteers today. I think it’s because of the full-moon Buddhist holiday the Karen celebrate three times a year. Hordes of teenagers are squashed together and dancing under a central pavilion near the monastery. With giant handmade bamboo shafts clappers and tightly wound drums, they “jam” together in a makeshift mosh pit, singing loudly and jumping around. Little kids imitate their older brothers and sisters in this free flow, and the group picks up steam. It’s central members, most around 16-17 years old, are covered in sweat and smiling. Some of them wear traditional Karen shirts, made of bright red fabric with colored horizontal lines. Others wear T-shirts. Many are smoking and almost everyone is smiling.

bamboo bungalows, the homes of Karen refugees, blanket the foothills at Mae Ra

Though this lively Buddhist celebration seems to be the center of everyone’s attention today, Buddhism is not the only religion in the camp. Other Karens claim Christianity, while a smaller number are Muslim. Originally Animists, the Karen have converted in large numbers through colonial influence or missionaries. Each group here at the refugee camp has their own temples, mosques, and churches. Yet all buildings are constructed from the same materials; bamboo, dried leaves, and logs.  An outsider couldn’t tell the mosque from the temple from the church.
 

“We are different religions,” Monchu says of his people, “but that is the only difference. We do not fight [amongst ourselves].” Last night I was in Mae Sot, the border town two hours south of here by songthaew (a Thai taxi-truck). This bustling Thai city with an outlaw reputation creeps just a few kilometers from the bridge that climbs over the river into Myanmar. People from Myanmar float across the shallow, muddy waters on large black inner tubes to sell cigarettes, whisky, and other cheap Burmese goods; a carton of Burmese cigarettes costs about $2.30. A market along the Thai bank sells teakwood and trinkets. Like all border towns, Mae Sot is home to every ethnicity in the area; Thai, Burmese, Karen, other hilltribe groups like the Hmong or Lahu, and even refugees who’ve hitched a ride from the camp to the city for something to do. Mae Sot is also home to many Volunteer organizations working at the refugee camps. Last night I met some Western volunteers named Andy and Erin, a couple from Boulder, Colorado, who have been working at the camps for two months and plan to stay one month more. Like a lot of volunteers here, they want very much to make a difference.

Karen children living in the refugee camp at Mae Ra

“We want to help the Karen [refugees] learn to do things for themselves,” says Andy, who is working as an English instructor while heading up a toy-making program for disabled Karen children. “We want to make sure that when we leave, these programs will continue. It has to be something they want, or it will never stick,” Andy says.
 

One of the bigger problems the refugees at Mae Ra seem to face is a lack of purpose. Helpless to change their country’s plight, they have nothing to do but sit around the camp and wait. And when over 40,000 people sit around a wait, problems arise. Drug use has become a problem for some Karen who have nothing better to do, and are looking for an escape. And with the number of refugees increasing, the challenge to provide education and medical care in the camp is becoming more and more difficult. Erin works as a therapist in a program designed to mainstream handicapped and mentally handicapped Karens. She struggles with cultural issues as well as the challenge to build lasting aid. “Many Karen believe that if someone is handicapped, they were bad in a former life, or their parents were bad in a former life. So convincing them that it’s worth it to help handicapped children learn and grow can be difficult. Many people, including parents of handicapped kids, tell me we should be spending our time and resources on the smart ones.”

Karen Refugees dance at a Buddhist celebration at Mae Ra

Both Andy and Erin say it’s tricky to draw the line between their own cultural bias and human rights.

“We don’t want to come in here and impose our American values and change their culture,” says Erin, grimacing slightly. “But we want to help.” 

With this attitude, they have seen some success. While measuring improvement at the grassroots level can be difficult to do, both Andy and Erin cite small instances on the individual level where they felt they have helped people. 

While Andy and Erin work primarily with children, there are other volunteers involved in a variety of programs. Lots of medical volunteers work as doctors and nurses with medical NGOs, or at a clinic in Mae Sot run by a woman named Dr. Cynthia. Dr. Cynthia’s clinic started in 1988 to serve pro-democracy students fleeing Myanmar, and now also serves a large community of refugees. Last year, the clinic saw over twenty thousand patients. The clinic also serves to help find work and education opportunities. They are constantly in need of blood donations; many volunteers, as well as passing travelers, donate blood on a regular basis.

Despite the problems the Karen refugees at Mae Ra face, they seem to have found some happiness amongst the difficulties. Monchu says he is thankful to the Thai military for helping the Karen, and also says the work of the volunteer organizations is good. There is a warmth among these people, a warmth that many people in Thailand have, but that is all the more important here in Mae Ra, where sticking together is the only way these refugees can find community so far from home.

At the top of a small hill, just above a thin stream that curls through the camp, I find a couple of kids playing with a plastic ball. The ball rolls near me and I kick it back; soon a game of keep-away develops, and our group grows. A dozen of us shriek in delight as the ball flies all over, kicked and thrown and caught and dropped on the dusty hilltop. A new little boy walks sheepishly towards the action, and I toss him the ball softly. It hits him squarely in the forehead and bounces off, sending the group into fits of laughter. He laughs too, happy to be the center of attention. Soon he is in the middle of the game, racing after the ball with bare feet and big, brown wide eyes. When it is time to leave, I say good-bye to the kids and pull my finger gently from my little friend’s palm. She’s followed me faithfully for a while, and I wonder if she’ll cry when I walk away. But she just waves goodbye and grins wide with that smile, the one that makes smiling back the only thing I want to do in the whole world.

the author with Monchu and a Karen toddler

My hope is that of the Karen at Mae La – that someday she’ll be smiling on the other side of the border, safe in a homeland she has yet to see.
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Important Supportive Information The Karen Human Rights Group has a detailed history and analysis of the plight of Karen on the Thai/Myanmar border. Go to www.ibiblio.org.freeburma/humanrights/khrg/archive If you are in Mae Sot, the best place to get information about volunteer organizations in town or at the camps is at the KCB Snack Shop, run by the very amiable Samsok, the nicest man you ever met. He speaks fluent English and knows volunteers at a variety of organizations in the area. The address for Dr. Cynthia’s clinic in Mae Sot is PO Box 67, Mae Sot, Tak 63110, Thailand, T: 66 055 544 655 The Internet has a lot of information on Karen refugees and opportunities to volunteer. Type <Karen Human Rights> into any search engine, or try some of these: www.burmaproject.org -- this site is affiliated with burmanet.org; under “links” there is a good list of organizations devoted to human rights in Burma. www.un.org/rights/ -- the UNHCR website has good information about the conflict and what the UN is doing to help. www.myanmar.com -- this is the SPDC’s website; a good example of the military propaganda the Karen face.

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