Burma Trip

Unfortunately it wasn’t for the romantic ambience that the Burmese border immigration office was lighted by candles. Rather, this town—which by no means is a rural or unimportant town, is actually running without power. This town is fueled by tourists who skip across the border to cash in at cheap markets and pick up a Burmese passport stamp. And all this skipping is unfortunately all the market that many of these people see.

It is across from the market that I met with an unnamed Burmese tuk tuk driver. See you have to go out of the country every couple months and Burma is only a short bus ride away. (Unfortunately you still waste your entire Saturday in a bus). He was quite the man, spoke perfect English. We stood directly across from the market, the reason that many girls from the office decided to accompany us on our waste of a Saturday. The market was chock full of name brand clothing at a third world price. The funny thing is that a lot of it is real. Since so many clothing companies are stationed around south east asia, they actually sell a lot of Gap, Billabong and tons more.

Yet he painted a story of a different type of country outside this border town. Most Burmese are looking to cross the boarder and find work in Thailand, yet no one wants to. The Thai’s treat us like shit; we escape from here and go under the boot of Thailand—he remarked when I asked if he wanted to work in Thailand. He then quoted an American proverb to me. Variety is the spice of life. Without any opportunity to use his skills he came to this town to drive a taxi. Years later he hasn’t even worked off the down payment that his boss is charging him to drive the taxi. He can’t leave now, he has a wife and one son.

Yet his frustration continued to surprise me. Not that he was frustrated, but that he continued to live. He continued to wake up and fight and spoke blatantly in English against the soldiers standing across the street in uniform. And he ended by saying—You tell George Bush to come over here and blow up this government. The UN came and they did nothing. Thousands of basic human rights violations each month and the only aid that comes are in bags rice—not opportunity or stability.

By this time the girls have finished their shopping (I admit I bought BBC’s planet earth for 3 dollars) and it’s time to head back to Thailand. A country that is more than happy importing energy from Burma to fuel their quickly developing nation. And since Burma has a great supply of candles, the military regime is more than happy to sell it to them.