Thailand And Me

How can I easily forget the things that make me rather uncontrollably laugh than cry with my previously awkward experiences in Bangkok? Of course I cannot.

On March 8, 2006, I came to Bangkok, the capital city of Thailand. It was my first foreign trip and also my first flight in my whole life. In Thailand, probably, everything was totally different from my own country. Of course, I could say that it was like black and white colors if I tried to put these two countries together.

I heard some of my friends who went to Thailand, mentioned about the Bangkok airport which was one of the most complicated airports in the world.

Rev. Fr John, a New Zealander Marist missionary who arranged everything for my study in Thailand, had already mentioned in his early mail where to find Ronald, a Filipino Marist lay who works with the Marist mission in Ranong. He would wait for me somewhere in the waiting area. He instructed me to turn left and I would easily spot Ronald in the airport.

I met three Shan girls from my country who did not know how to fill the entrance registration at the counter. Irrevocably, I went to them and offered my assistance. They spoke Thais and Burmese but they did not seem to know how to write Burmese nor English. I was surprised. I was like a hero for them at the moment. It took 20 minutes.

Then, I lined up for my turn at the counter. The officers were checking my passport carefully and I wonder they seemed to check it word by word. It took for minutes. I noticed in other counters, the officers let other foreigners pass quickly but mine was different. I did not know why. Strange!

Finally, one of the custom officers signaled me to stand in front of the camera and they took a picture. I understood that it was a special treatment for a Burmese citizen.

Oh gosh! I realized that I forgot to claim my luggage. I was almost in the waiting area. I was overwhelmed and worried because I put all my money in the luggage. In a hurry, I turned back and I heard a staff shouting and waving her hands to go back. I did not mind her. I did not know where to get my luggage. I saw a lady carrying her luggage near the elevator and I asked her where she got it. With a big smile she pointed at the place where I saw my big red luggage.

Now, I could at least relieve and relax to get my luggage but I totally forgot to turn left. So, I came to the waiting area where people were holding postcards and shouting names, and I looked for Ronald who would be there. I did not know that I was in the wrong area. Again, I was deeply disappointed. I kept on looking for him. Instead I saw one of the girl I helped at the counter and she was busy with calling. I was happy to see her at least. I asked her to use her cell phone. Or else, I had no idea how to find Ronald.

Ronald sounded to surprisingly answer me and he asked me to go outside from the place where I was in the moment. Of course, I was very happy to see him. I tried not to think about my accidents inside the airport. I noticed he looked quite frustrated. Of course, I could understand because I had let him wait for almost an hour.

When I got into a taxi, I was amazed to see the giant buildings, artistically carved roads and bridges in the city, the underground and sky trains, countless cabs and buses, and private small and big vehicles. I was shocked and speechless to see these things. I just shut up my mouth and gazed at those strange and new things.

Ronald brought me to the restaurant. He gave me some money to buy food for my own. At first, I did not know why he let me buy food for myself. Honestly, I was quite upset because I did not know what to buy. The foods were also different. Later, I found out that he showed his respect for my own choice. I understood that I was no longer in Myanmar.

Then we proceeded to the southern bus terminal to go to Ranong where Fr. John would be waiting for me. Ronald had already bought the tickets for me too. It was a nine-hour trip and I found the bus was so nice and luxurious that I fell asleep. We arrived to Ranong in the next early morning.

Fr. Joel and Bro Gil were still in their beds at that time. But when we arrived, they woke up. I was so happy to see the two Filipino Marist missionaries because I met them in Yangon before. I just wanted to say thanks but I could not say a word because I was so overwhelmed and traumatized at my fresh experiences in the airport and on the ways to Ranong. I learned that Fr. John was not there waiting for me. It made me a little disappointed. Finally, I felt that I was home again. Of course, the Marist community is my second home.

TRY YOUR BEST TO GET AN EDUCATION..

In my country, when someone asks the nationality, it means that he/she asks about the tribe name. For me, I am belonging to a Kachin tribe ( a pure Kachin). But when I come to the Philippines, instead of saying a Kachin, I identify myself as a Myanmar (Burmese).

Here, most of my time, I enjoy listening to the Kachin songs. When I listen to the Kachin songs, I miss a lot about my places and people. Sometimes, I feel very lonely and homesick but at least I have some Kachin songs which give me remedy for my loneliness and homesickness. Going with the songs' flow, sometimes, I do feel that I am in my place. What a powerful inspiration!

I realize that our Kachin songs are not only for entertaining people but also reminding us with actual facts in the Kachin society which are reflecting our daily life. Even though the songs may not describe poverty and hardship in detail, they give listeners for good pictures how people struggle for survival and how they help each other and share their suffering. Sometimes, they are messengers for the Kachins.

Mostly the Kachin songs are own tunes. Of course, there are some copied songs but very few. Mostly, those songs are produced with the "self-suicide mission" which means probably the producers do not expect profits. Exactly, these musicians are non-profit advocates for the people. For their sacrifice, people still have the opportunity to listen to the Kachin own-tune songs. Bravo!

Recently, I have many Kachin songs given by a friend who visited me last month. I enjoy listening. Now, one of my favorite song is "Ngai Jawng Sara"(I am a teacher) by Ah Tang. Ah Tang is very popular in the Kachin music field because normally his songs are pragmatically reflective and sincerely descriptive about people living in the deep poverty.

I like this song because I can easily relate to it. Probably, I was a teacher once. Precisely, the song gives a lot of inspiration and real pictures about the Kachins who mostly live in highland areas. I heard about this song a lot but I did not have a chance to buy it.

The song give me a good picture about poor education in the highland areas. It is simple but deeply moved for me. In the first verse, I notice that the composer tries to gives a good picture about the students in the school who are waiting for their teacher in the class. In the second verse, the song pictures a glimpse of the students. Those students do not have enough warm clothes to protect themselves from the mist in the cold season. This nature climax seems to torture the poor children in the classroom.

The song reflects reality about people who live in cities and enjoy more chances than those in the mountain. They do not want to go there. This description makes me heartbreaking. The song tries to appeal them to share their joy with the least people in the mountain areas.

Of course, this song reminds me a lot about my old experiences and memories in the mountain areas. As the song goes into the end, it says that "Hpaji chye hkra shakut mu yaw!"(Try your best to get an education.) This line echoes me and it is deeply shaking my heart. It is a message for me.

Keep On Hoping But Do The Best...

And so….
Silently, they flow from the nib,
Those little words and lines
to quake the head, quench the heart,
to mould and move the minds,
And awesome too, is that hand;
which sets the pen to work
come what may rain or shine
From duty, will not shirk
Moe Hein (son Journal Kyaw) -Ref; internet source.

In Yangon, I met Saya Moe Hein, a writer and poet whose mother, Journal Kyaw Ma Ma Lay, was one of the most prominent figures in the Burmese literature history. A friend, Lu Lu, introduced me to Saya Than Thaik, a writer and poet, who was one of Saya Moe Hein's close friends. (The word "saya" means teacher) Next day, Saya Than Htaik gave me Saya Moe Hein's phone number. When I called Saya Moe Hein whether I could join his English class, he knew me already.

In those days, I could not think to attend a English class. Simply, I could not effford to pay for it and my salary was around USD10 a month. Normally I survived hoping to do the best for my future. With Saya Moe Hein, I found some techniques of translating Burmese to English and how to choose the right words in Burmese. Actually, Saya was a very busy man but he made a special schedule for that weekly class. It was free for all students. All the students were employees in the government offices and other organizations. Some of them were journalists.

The more I learned about Saya Moe Hein, the more I admired the way of his thinking and his social work especially for those who wanted to proceed learning English. We had one and half hour for every section and it was once a week. Even I attended eight meetings with him because he moved the class to another place, I found him as a very interesting person because few Burmese educated teachers were doing that kind of solo-charity work. He was very simple and gentle. Even though he was highly paid in his job and busy, he tried to find time and shared his knowledge and experience with those who wanted to learn English more.

Before I left from my country, I heard that he was working for a school to train the orphans. I sensed that he would teach the children to know how to cherish the Buddhism because he himself was a very devout Buddhist that I have ever met before. I still remembered his story which even he never killed ants hanging around his windows but he used to feed them with food every morning.

He always reminded his students to stand on their own feet and studying hard. I was surprised that he used to call by my name. I was very happy to attend his class. It was not because he taught us English for free but because he had a sincere and honest personality.

Pieces Of My Memories II.

For over two years I was a computer technician in the Quick computer service centre, the Nawarat computer centre, the Biznet computer store and the Surf n Surf internet cafe in Yangon, Myanmar. Generally those computer centres and stores were not very big but they dealt mainly with sales and rental services. All the owners were young and they worked outside the country before they established their own businesses.

I moved from one centre to another to search for practical experience and knowledge about computers. Mostly I met different people who came from different backgrounds. I worked as a junior and then a senior technician in those centres. Gradually I adapted to their ways and I was quite influenced by their lifestyles and the ways of thinking especially how to approach the seniors and the bosses in the workplace.

As an inexperienced worker in the computer field, I did not receive any salary in my first two months because my boss thought that I needed more practical experience. I worked from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm everyday but I often came home late. Of course I graduated in the Government Computer College before I applied for the job. In fact, nobody cared about my degree because I had to scrub the floors and clean the computer monitors every day. Sometimes, my boss would ask me to run errands for his family.

After almost four months, I had the privileges of going with the senior technicians who worked for the outdoor services. But, it was not simple. I was obliged to carry their bags and sometimes their shoes to show them that I was a good apprentice. Sometimes I had to treat them with snacks or drinks. Of course, when I did make mistakes, they would not spare me. They would insult me with various swear words, complain to the boss and shout at me even in front of the customers. That was the worst experience in my life.

Later, when I became supervisor in the same store, I tried to change the relationships and attitude with my juniors because I did not want to act as those seniors did to me. So, my boss was angry with me because he wanted me to oppress the juniors with extra manual works like I was oppressed before. Instead, I quit the job and looked for another store which offered lower salaries but more works.

In the working experience, I encountered people who thought that they knew everything but they were easily offended when someone pointed at their mistake. They were selfish people who did not want to share their skills but only keep their skills for themselves exclusively. In fact, they wanted to be treated with great respect by their juniors. Sometimes they were actually dangerous the ways they took revenge on others who made them uncomfortable. They would try to find faults and mercilessly and verbally or even physically attack. Normally they would wait for their rivals to fail in their "weak points" so that they could easily trap them.

Strangely, I learned one of the most common expression in the working place which was "let just the bosses know what you do but don't get caught." It was a witty metaphor for the relationship between the bosses and their employees. Sometimes, I wondered if those bosses cared for their business or tried to find out what was going on with their employees. I doubted they would like to disturb them because their understanding seemed to be like the game of hide-and-seek.

During those days, I struggled to adjust to the people who came from different lifestyles. Of course, I met good people who helped me to withstand those challenges. They guided me to become a stronger and more vigilant man. I also observed and gained pragmatic lessons from those who oppressed and bullied me with their aggressive ways. They witnessed in themselves that they could not advance in their careers into better lifestyles because they lost their jobs due to their corrupt morality. Those were priceless lessons for me after all.