We arrived at Chiang Mai early in the morning, before daybreak. We were so tired that we just grabbed any tuk-tuk and let him take us to any guesthouse that he had a contract with. It wasn't bad, I think we got lucky. We got to our room and got a bit of a second wind. Madoka took a shower while I went in search of a 7-11 for donuts and water. Then I took a shower and Madoka was asleep before I was finished. The journey was over.
We woke up before noon, somewhat refreshed. We still had to make Madoka's meeting. I decided to go with her. The prominent feature of Chiang Mai is a square moat encircling the older part of the city. The circumference of the moat is maybe three miles, everything within being within walking distance of everything else. Chiang Mai outside of the moat sprawls out. Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand, but is nevertheless dwarfed by Bangkok.
The guesthouse was a short walk from the moat, and we caught a tuk-tuk to Madoka's meeting. I just tagged along and didn't pay much attention to Madoka's business. I think by then we were just being cordial to each other and tolerating each others' presence. We were just pretty drained.
After the meeting, Madoka wanted to visit the office of an NGO she had visited on her prior visit to Thailand. It was on the other side of Chiang Mai, but we decided to walk. It wasn't terribly far, I wasn't paying attention to time. Again I was just tagging along. Eventually, I decided to head back to the guesthouse alone and let her hang out with her friends. I walked all the way back to the guesthouse on the other side of the city. Again, not terribly far. I didn't take any photographs; I don't know why.
After Madoka got back to the guesthouse, we decided to go for dinner and do some shopping at the night market. It wasn't raining and it was cool, and it was pleasant to finally be able to relax with Madoka. We went to a vegetarian restaurant. The ambience was nice and relaxing, so different from the camps. I reflected on how a day ago we were in a refugee camp in the middle of the jungle with people scraping a living, exiled from their homes. I suppose what makes Madoka special is that we can share such disparate experiences.
After dinner we went shopping and I bought a bunch of gifts stuff. We retired relatively early that night.
Showing posts with label Thai-Burma border. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thai-Burma border. Show all posts
Friday, July 25, 1997
Thursday, July 24, 1997
Supplemental - en route to Chiang Mai, Thailand
Color archive, Summer 1997, Roll 2, Frame 36 - She was a human rights worker from Australia who was staying at the camp for several months.
It rained all night and it was raining when we woke up. Occasionally the sun would break through, but not for long. We had serious concerns about our return to Mae Sariang, but the Burmese assured us that one way or another we would get back.
Frame 34
The problem was that during the rainy season, the river fills and the truck can't get through. All we could do was wait to see if the truck made it through. They had radio contact with the ABSDF office in Mae Sariang and they said the truck would definitely try to get through. Of course, Madoka and I were paying for the driver and his truck, which meant that our visit was two free supply runs to the camp. Supply runs can never be taken for granted, so it was important for them, too, that the truck get through.
We sat on a choice for a while, whether to stay at camp and wait for the truck, not being absolutely sure that it would make it through, or walk for three hours to a small "town" where the truck could pick us up because it wouldn't have to cross the river. It didn't take us too long to decide to start walking. We had to get to Chiang Mai by morning because Madoka had to meet some people. We started walking to give ourselves some assurance that we would get to Mae Sariang that day.
Once again, that walk was indescribable. It was three hours, but time was simply not a concern. The river was waist-high for me at times (higher for Madoka), and the current was dangerously strong at several points. I lost count how many times we crossed the river. It was just crossing after crossing, sometimes harder, sometimes easier, sometimes feeling it would never end. All the while we were trying to keep our cameras from getting wet. Finally after about three hours, at just about the last time we had to cross the river, the truck finally came into view on its way to the camp.
We were just glad to see them and to see that they were going to make it through. The truck had a modified exhaust system that would allow it to go through higher water. The Burmese who were guiding us got on the truck to go back to camp, and two people who came on the truck continued with Madoka and me to the small town where we were going to wait for the truck on its return after dropping off the supplies. Where we met the truck was the only point during the journey that I managed to get my camera out and take a single shot of the river. It was impossible to have taken pictures during the journey.
Series VI, Roll 8, Frame 19
It was at someone's home that we waited. It was getting dark, Madoka and I just stopped and rested. It took a couple of hours for the truck to return, by which time it was just about dark. This time, both Madoka and I were able to sit up front. The drive out was quite a different experience due to the rain that had fallen since our arrival. The mountain roads were treacherous and mud was piled along the side of the road the way snow is in Winter.
Our journey was delayed by a cattle truck that had gotten stuck in the mud. At first it was completely blocking the road. Our driver tried to help them out, but it was in vain. Numerous attempts were made to get it moving, including letting the cattle off of the truck. After over an hour, the cattle truck had almost fallen off the road and down into a valley, but it was out of our way. We had to go. I didn't notice if we gave the truck driver a ride. We might have.
We arrived in Mae Sariang close to 11:30 at night. There was a bus leaving for Chiang Mai at midnight. We unloaded the Burmese students at the ABSDF office, grabbed our bags, said goodbye to them and the driver drove us to the bus station, just in time to catch the crowded bus. We didn't care if it was crowded, we took what seats we could. I smelled so bad that I could barely stand it and felt sorry for the person sitting next to me. After the first stop, I managed to change my shirt and slept the rest of the way to Chiang Mai.
Wednesday, July 23, 1997
Supplemental - ABSDF refugee camp headquarters, Thailand
Most of the living huts have fire-pits that get lit every night for warmth and light. The guesthouse didn't really have a fire-pit, so they had to build a fire right on the floor and it smoldered through the night. The smoke also helps keep the mosquitoes away. After waking up, the students fed us and Madoka had arranged for us to be taken to another larger refugee camp.
Color archive, Summer 1997, Roll 2, Frame 37 (July 24, 1997)
The camp was about thirty minutes away on foot. Thirty minutes should have taken us pretty close to the river that marks the border between Burma and Thailand, but we didn't see it. The camp was certainly larger, holding about three thousand people, as opposed to eighty at the ABSDF camp. The structures were also larger and more worn down, and there were a lot more children and teenagers. The ABSDF camp was a refugee camp, but it was also a political headquarter for a movement comprised of ethnic Burman. This camp was a refugee camp of Karen who left Burma to escape persecution by the Burmese military.
Our contact at the camp was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, but was probably in her forties, and spoke English pretty well. We went to her home where she fed us and where she gave us an interview that Madoka videotaped. The interview was about her experiences and how she got to camp and what she did prior. She also translated the stories of several other people including her sister who had recently arrived from Burma.
After the interviews, during which a Thai soldier, who was apparently sympathetic and friendly, dropped in, the woman took us around the camp. We visited the school, the chapel, and the hospital. The camp was composed of Christian Karen, thus the chapel. The last thing the woman told us before we left was to not forget about them.
Frame 29
Frame 30
Frame 31
Frame 32
Madoka and I walked back to the ABSDF camp with our guides. We were tired and dirty. I tried bathing in the river with the students and made the most of it. It had started raining the night before and it rained intermittently through the day, and apparently the increase of water flow makes the river muddy. I only had one shirt which was getting pretty ripe, but it felt good to feel water and run soap over myself.
Frame 33
They fed us and the students came over again at night to play music. Madoka and I both recorded the session and were glad to have remembered to do so, even though the second night wasn't quite as good as the first. They were all so good and they played together so well that it was uncanny, but I guess after nine years in the jungle with no other entertainment, they're going to get good and be able to play together really well. Five guitars would be playing at once and it still worked. One person would plunk out a bass line while one would riff out a lead part and they would just jam.
There was one refugee named Moren who had a great voice and was into music more than the others. The others were really good, but they weren't as focused on it as he was. I think that if they were all back in Rangoon, the others may or may not be doing music - at most it would be just a diversion or a hobby. Moren, I think would be doing music seriously.
Color archive, Summer 1997, Roll 2, Frame 37 (July 24, 1997)
The camp was about thirty minutes away on foot. Thirty minutes should have taken us pretty close to the river that marks the border between Burma and Thailand, but we didn't see it. The camp was certainly larger, holding about three thousand people, as opposed to eighty at the ABSDF camp. The structures were also larger and more worn down, and there were a lot more children and teenagers. The ABSDF camp was a refugee camp, but it was also a political headquarter for a movement comprised of ethnic Burman. This camp was a refugee camp of Karen who left Burma to escape persecution by the Burmese military.
Our contact at the camp was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, but was probably in her forties, and spoke English pretty well. We went to her home where she fed us and where she gave us an interview that Madoka videotaped. The interview was about her experiences and how she got to camp and what she did prior. She also translated the stories of several other people including her sister who had recently arrived from Burma.
After the interviews, during which a Thai soldier, who was apparently sympathetic and friendly, dropped in, the woman took us around the camp. We visited the school, the chapel, and the hospital. The camp was composed of Christian Karen, thus the chapel. The last thing the woman told us before we left was to not forget about them.
Frame 29
Frame 30
Frame 31
Frame 32
Madoka and I walked back to the ABSDF camp with our guides. We were tired and dirty. I tried bathing in the river with the students and made the most of it. It had started raining the night before and it rained intermittently through the day, and apparently the increase of water flow makes the river muddy. I only had one shirt which was getting pretty ripe, but it felt good to feel water and run soap over myself.
Frame 33
They fed us and the students came over again at night to play music. Madoka and I both recorded the session and were glad to have remembered to do so, even though the second night wasn't quite as good as the first. They were all so good and they played together so well that it was uncanny, but I guess after nine years in the jungle with no other entertainment, they're going to get good and be able to play together really well. Five guitars would be playing at once and it still worked. One person would plunk out a bass line while one would riff out a lead part and they would just jam.
There was one refugee named Moren who had a great voice and was into music more than the others. The others were really good, but they weren't as focused on it as he was. I think that if they were all back in Rangoon, the others may or may not be doing music - at most it would be just a diversion or a hobby. Moren, I think would be doing music seriously.
Tuesday, July 22, 1997
Supplemental - ABSDF refugee camp headquarters, Thailand
Madoka and I checked out early in the morning following breakfast. The Japanese traveler was still there. We weren't sure if he'd be there because he thought he might leave before sunrise, but he ran into a money problem - he was running low and couldn't get any from the bank because of the holiday. We chatted a while longer, but we were cut off when some Burmese students on motorcycles arrived to take us to the ABSDF office.
This is what we were there for. It was overcast and dreary. Once we got to the office, we talked with some of the students there to show our interest and familiarize ourselves with some of the issues. After a couple hours, the truck that was to take us to the refugee camp arrived, and they started loading the truck up with supplies. They covered the supplies with tarp, and I rode on top with a bunch of students heading back to the camp. Madoka was able to ride up front in the pick-up's cabin.
Series VI, Roll 8 (Pentax K2, Ilford XP2):
Frame 1
Frame 2
The experience of driving the four hours to camp was . . . indescribable. Driving out of Mae Sariang was beautiful, even on an overcast day at the beginning of the rainy season. The tropical greens were lush and the scenery was nevertheless interesting; life in the Thai countryside, so different than Bangkok; borderland areas which could have been something else other than Thai, had history's line-drawing in this region taken a different course.
Once we hit the first official Thai checkpoint, we were on mountain roads and that is what was indescribable. Six or seven of us clinging onto the ropes that were holding down the supplies, clinging on for dear life trying not to get thrown off into the mud. This went on for three hours, up and down mountains. At one point my hat got knocked off by a low-hanging branch and one of the Burmese banged on the cabin to signal the driver to stop. He ran off to retrieve my hat, even though it would have been fine with me if we had continued on. It was the Beans hat I got from Amina. The trek was an experience that I could not impart through words.
We were fortunate because even though the rainy season had started, it hadn't rained much and the creek that we had to cross maybe 15 times was still shallow and the truck had no trouble getting through. When we got close to the camp after hours of rattled bones and dusty mountain roads, we got off and walked the rest of the way. The Burmese were well familiar with the area, having made the trip enough times. The walk to the camp wasn't far. We crossed a very impressive footbridge that they had constructed out of bamboo, and walked up a small hill to where the camp was.
Frame 14 (July 23, 1997) - I shot this later, but this is the bridge.
The camp was situated squarely within jungle. Again, not something I can describe in words. I have photographs for that, but even photographs couldn't describe the feeling in being in a place where they shouldn't have been in at all, but were there because of the political turmoil in their country and their ongoing struggle against the military government.
There was a sense of community and purpose there. The refugees were eager to speak with us about Burma and their struggle. I think they felt that every visitor is a line thrown out to the outside world informing it about what is going on. This was a headquarters camp of the ABSDF, so many of the refugees had been students and most of them fled Burma after their participation in the democracy demonstrations that culminated in the military crackdown on August 8, 1988. Hundreds or thousands of students were massacred in a precursor to what would happen in Beijing less than a year later. Burma, being economically insignificant to the U.S., didn't get the media coverage that Beijing did. These students at the headquarters camp were young, intelligent, and knew the value of informing all outsiders of what was happening.
Soon after we got there, we got a tour and went around meeting families and seeing what facilities they've eked out of the jungle. They fed us and there was a "guest hut" with six bamboo platforms in which Madoka and I stayed. Madoka had some business of her own to take care of, sort of a fact-finding mission for her friends, the Kawasaki's, who are deeply involved in the refugee crisis and contribute and influence what goes on. So there were times where I had nothing to do but pace back and forth. It was a miserable situation to be forced into, and many students attested to the hardships they endured when they first left Burma.
Frame 5
Frame 6
Frame 7
Frame 8
Frame 9 - my records say the rest of these shots were taken on July 23, but I think they were all from July 22, including the one of the bridge. The person in Frame 8 is the same as this person.
Frame 10
Frame 11
Nine years they've been in the jungle, fighting and sending propaganda about the military government. One day you're a student taking classes, but then a movement starts and you believe in what is being promulgated, so you join the crowds. You support democracy and the feeling is good. You are on the side of righteousness and there is optimism in the prospects of change. Then the military shows up and they shoot at you and you run, and you run and run. You leave the city, your school, your classes, your family. Maybe you travel alone, maybe in a group. You just know you can't go back. The next few weeks you run and hide until you reach the border. Maybe you've heard of where you need to go to get out of the country, maybe there is a network to help you and point the way. You cross the border, you leave your country, your home, you have nothing. The reality sets in. A week ago you were just a student. Where do you go in another country?
After dark, there is little to do in the jungle. Some people have flashlights, but for longer periods of time, people use candles. For entertainment, there are a bunch of guitars floating around. Over the years, they learned songs and played together and picked out parts. That night, a bunch of the refugees came to the guest hut and played for hours, well into the timeless night. They knew some folk songs from the '60's and '70's. Most of the songs were Burmese folk songs, and there were some foreign songs that were translated into Burmese.
It was so very alive. Madoka appreciated it and thought it was wonderful, but...I don't know. There was a tension between us for some reason. It never got out of hand, but it also very rarely went completely away. Part of me wonders if Josephine had anything to do with it, but I have no evidence to support that. There were times that I felt a tiny bit critical of Madoka because she would so single-mindedly concentrate on the work; the plight of the refugees, and finding ways to solve problems. I felt that most during the guitar playing because I felt that she couldn't just relax and enjoy the moment, being surrounded by good people, playing really good music, being really into it, because music isn't helping the Cause.
We had to sleep under mosquito nets. The mosquitoes in the jungle are malarial and extremely aggressive. To me, it would have been unbearable. They made existence miserable and they were the leading factor which made me think ahead to our departure.
Frame 15
Frame 16
Frame 17
Frame 18
Color archive, Summer 1997, Roll 2
This is what we were there for. It was overcast and dreary. Once we got to the office, we talked with some of the students there to show our interest and familiarize ourselves with some of the issues. After a couple hours, the truck that was to take us to the refugee camp arrived, and they started loading the truck up with supplies. They covered the supplies with tarp, and I rode on top with a bunch of students heading back to the camp. Madoka was able to ride up front in the pick-up's cabin.
Series VI, Roll 8 (Pentax K2, Ilford XP2):
Frame 1
Frame 2
The experience of driving the four hours to camp was . . . indescribable. Driving out of Mae Sariang was beautiful, even on an overcast day at the beginning of the rainy season. The tropical greens were lush and the scenery was nevertheless interesting; life in the Thai countryside, so different than Bangkok; borderland areas which could have been something else other than Thai, had history's line-drawing in this region taken a different course.
Once we hit the first official Thai checkpoint, we were on mountain roads and that is what was indescribable. Six or seven of us clinging onto the ropes that were holding down the supplies, clinging on for dear life trying not to get thrown off into the mud. This went on for three hours, up and down mountains. At one point my hat got knocked off by a low-hanging branch and one of the Burmese banged on the cabin to signal the driver to stop. He ran off to retrieve my hat, even though it would have been fine with me if we had continued on. It was the Beans hat I got from Amina. The trek was an experience that I could not impart through words.
We were fortunate because even though the rainy season had started, it hadn't rained much and the creek that we had to cross maybe 15 times was still shallow and the truck had no trouble getting through. When we got close to the camp after hours of rattled bones and dusty mountain roads, we got off and walked the rest of the way. The Burmese were well familiar with the area, having made the trip enough times. The walk to the camp wasn't far. We crossed a very impressive footbridge that they had constructed out of bamboo, and walked up a small hill to where the camp was.
Frame 14 (July 23, 1997) - I shot this later, but this is the bridge.
The camp was situated squarely within jungle. Again, not something I can describe in words. I have photographs for that, but even photographs couldn't describe the feeling in being in a place where they shouldn't have been in at all, but were there because of the political turmoil in their country and their ongoing struggle against the military government.
There was a sense of community and purpose there. The refugees were eager to speak with us about Burma and their struggle. I think they felt that every visitor is a line thrown out to the outside world informing it about what is going on. This was a headquarters camp of the ABSDF, so many of the refugees had been students and most of them fled Burma after their participation in the democracy demonstrations that culminated in the military crackdown on August 8, 1988. Hundreds or thousands of students were massacred in a precursor to what would happen in Beijing less than a year later. Burma, being economically insignificant to the U.S., didn't get the media coverage that Beijing did. These students at the headquarters camp were young, intelligent, and knew the value of informing all outsiders of what was happening.
Soon after we got there, we got a tour and went around meeting families and seeing what facilities they've eked out of the jungle. They fed us and there was a "guest hut" with six bamboo platforms in which Madoka and I stayed. Madoka had some business of her own to take care of, sort of a fact-finding mission for her friends, the Kawasaki's, who are deeply involved in the refugee crisis and contribute and influence what goes on. So there were times where I had nothing to do but pace back and forth. It was a miserable situation to be forced into, and many students attested to the hardships they endured when they first left Burma.
Frame 5
Frame 6
Frame 7
Frame 8
Frame 9 - my records say the rest of these shots were taken on July 23, but I think they were all from July 22, including the one of the bridge. The person in Frame 8 is the same as this person.
Frame 10
Frame 11
Nine years they've been in the jungle, fighting and sending propaganda about the military government. One day you're a student taking classes, but then a movement starts and you believe in what is being promulgated, so you join the crowds. You support democracy and the feeling is good. You are on the side of righteousness and there is optimism in the prospects of change. Then the military shows up and they shoot at you and you run, and you run and run. You leave the city, your school, your classes, your family. Maybe you travel alone, maybe in a group. You just know you can't go back. The next few weeks you run and hide until you reach the border. Maybe you've heard of where you need to go to get out of the country, maybe there is a network to help you and point the way. You cross the border, you leave your country, your home, you have nothing. The reality sets in. A week ago you were just a student. Where do you go in another country?
After dark, there is little to do in the jungle. Some people have flashlights, but for longer periods of time, people use candles. For entertainment, there are a bunch of guitars floating around. Over the years, they learned songs and played together and picked out parts. That night, a bunch of the refugees came to the guest hut and played for hours, well into the timeless night. They knew some folk songs from the '60's and '70's. Most of the songs were Burmese folk songs, and there were some foreign songs that were translated into Burmese.
It was so very alive. Madoka appreciated it and thought it was wonderful, but...I don't know. There was a tension between us for some reason. It never got out of hand, but it also very rarely went completely away. Part of me wonders if Josephine had anything to do with it, but I have no evidence to support that. There were times that I felt a tiny bit critical of Madoka because she would so single-mindedly concentrate on the work; the plight of the refugees, and finding ways to solve problems. I felt that most during the guitar playing because I felt that she couldn't just relax and enjoy the moment, being surrounded by good people, playing really good music, being really into it, because music isn't helping the Cause.
We had to sleep under mosquito nets. The mosquitoes in the jungle are malarial and extremely aggressive. To me, it would have been unbearable. They made existence miserable and they were the leading factor which made me think ahead to our departure.
Frame 15
Frame 16
Frame 17
Frame 18
Color archive, Summer 1997, Roll 2
Monday, July 21, 1997
Mae Sariang, Thailand
Madoka had to go back to her friend's house this morning to give her a gift that she forgot to bring yesterday. I didn't go with her. We parted ways after breakfast and I wandered about Mae Hong Song taking photographs. Tiny city, two hours was more than enough to cover anything interesting. I just wandered along anything that looked like a major road. I went part way up a mountain to a temple and around a small lake I found.
Series VI, Roll 7 (Pentax K2, Ilford HP5): Mae Hong Song
Frame 21
Frame 22
Frame 23
Frame 24
Frame 25
Frame 26
Frame 27 - the small lake
Frames 28, 29 - the temple up on the hillside:
We met up at the guesthouse and headed over to the bus station to catch the bus to Mae Sariang. Mae Sariang is even smaller and more deserted than Mae Hong Song. Less interesting. But we weren’t there to see the town. It was the site of the ABSDF (All Burma Student Democratic Front) office, and our take off point for the camp.
Frame 30 - Madoka got back to the guesthouse before I did. I snapped this as I walked up.
Once we got there, we had to find a place to stay. I saw a guesthouse in the guidebook that looked decent, but the proprietor of another guesthouse met us when we got off the bus, and en route to the guesthouse that I had chosen, Madoka decided that the person was really nice and we decided to go to his guesthouse.
We found the guesthouse, and I rested while Madoka went out to find a phone. I appreciated the time alone. It was late in the afternoon and it was overcast. Madoka wasn’t gone for long and after she returned, we set out together to buy some stuff to bring to the refugee camp. We retraced our steps back into town along a dirt road and a bridge that crossed over a river into town. There were some shops open. Madoka had to make another phone call, and then we found that the market was closed for holiday. We managed to buy some fruit, vegetables, and milk to bring to the camp.
Around the guesthouse:
Frame 31
Frame 32, 35 - These were chess tables on the guesthouse property. I'm sure they get used during the tourist season.
Frame 33 - The area around the guesthouse didn't look like much, but the rainy season had started.
Frame 34 - This river ran by the guesthouse. I think I was shooting while Madoka was out.
The evening was...serene. We had dinner at the guesthouse. It not being peak tourist season, there was no one else there aside from the proprietor and a lone Japanese traveler. Dinner evolved into a conversation between the four of us and we spoke on various topics. The traveler knew some English, as did the proprietor who said he picked it up from tourists. We talked for several hours. It was an interesting little conversation on an interesting little evening in an interesting little guesthouse.
The guesthouse was on the outskirts of town and there was no one else around. The proprietor did the cooking himself. He had a scrapbook filled with postcards from people who had stayed at his guesthouse and wrote him after returning home. Finally, the proprietor decided to call it a night and went home to his family. The three of us talked a little longer and then Madoka and I retired as well. Serene evening.
Series VI, Roll 7 (Pentax K2, Ilford HP5): Mae Hong Song
Frame 21
Frame 22
Frame 23
Frame 24
Frame 25
Frame 26
Frame 27 - the small lake
Frames 28, 29 - the temple up on the hillside:
We met up at the guesthouse and headed over to the bus station to catch the bus to Mae Sariang. Mae Sariang is even smaller and more deserted than Mae Hong Song. Less interesting. But we weren’t there to see the town. It was the site of the ABSDF (All Burma Student Democratic Front) office, and our take off point for the camp.
Frame 30 - Madoka got back to the guesthouse before I did. I snapped this as I walked up.
Once we got there, we had to find a place to stay. I saw a guesthouse in the guidebook that looked decent, but the proprietor of another guesthouse met us when we got off the bus, and en route to the guesthouse that I had chosen, Madoka decided that the person was really nice and we decided to go to his guesthouse.
We found the guesthouse, and I rested while Madoka went out to find a phone. I appreciated the time alone. It was late in the afternoon and it was overcast. Madoka wasn’t gone for long and after she returned, we set out together to buy some stuff to bring to the refugee camp. We retraced our steps back into town along a dirt road and a bridge that crossed over a river into town. There were some shops open. Madoka had to make another phone call, and then we found that the market was closed for holiday. We managed to buy some fruit, vegetables, and milk to bring to the camp.
Around the guesthouse:
Frame 31
Frame 32, 35 - These were chess tables on the guesthouse property. I'm sure they get used during the tourist season.
Frame 33 - The area around the guesthouse didn't look like much, but the rainy season had started.
Frame 34 - This river ran by the guesthouse. I think I was shooting while Madoka was out.
The evening was...serene. We had dinner at the guesthouse. It not being peak tourist season, there was no one else there aside from the proprietor and a lone Japanese traveler. Dinner evolved into a conversation between the four of us and we spoke on various topics. The traveler knew some English, as did the proprietor who said he picked it up from tourists. We talked for several hours. It was an interesting little conversation on an interesting little evening in an interesting little guesthouse.
The guesthouse was on the outskirts of town and there was no one else around. The proprietor did the cooking himself. He had a scrapbook filled with postcards from people who had stayed at his guesthouse and wrote him after returning home. Finally, the proprietor decided to call it a night and went home to his family. The three of us talked a little longer and then Madoka and I retired as well. Serene evening.
Sunday, July 20, 1997
Mae Hong Song, Thailand
Upon our arrival at Mae Hong Song, our first course of action was to find a place to stay. We decided on a place Madoka knew of from before and we took a tuk-tuk there, even though it looked close enough to walk and easy enough to find from the map in the guidebook we had.
Series VI, Roll 7, Frame 19 (Pentax K2, Ilford HP5) - Soon after our arrival in Mae Hong Song. There was some kind of parade going down the street, maybe for the holiday that had all the shops closed the next day. I don't think we found out.
We didn't stay there long before we headed off to meet a friend of Madoka's, someone she had met last year, the head of the Burmese Women's Union. Her place was a bit out of town and we spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening there and had dinner. It was dark by the time we managed to procure transportation, two motorcycles, back to the guesthouse.
Series VI, Roll 7, Frame 20
Madoka and I have been a little more comfortable with each other, but we don't have the same kind of directed communication we usually have. Perhaps it's because we're here for a purpose, and so she's focused on that. After we got back to the guesthouse, we had a little quality time to ourselves and we went looking for something to eat. It had rained and it was pleasant. We found a small restaurant still open. There was almost no one else around, quite different from the swarm of humanity in Bangkok.
Series VI, Roll 7, Frame 19 (Pentax K2, Ilford HP5) - Soon after our arrival in Mae Hong Song. There was some kind of parade going down the street, maybe for the holiday that had all the shops closed the next day. I don't think we found out.
We didn't stay there long before we headed off to meet a friend of Madoka's, someone she had met last year, the head of the Burmese Women's Union. Her place was a bit out of town and we spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening there and had dinner. It was dark by the time we managed to procure transportation, two motorcycles, back to the guesthouse.
Series VI, Roll 7, Frame 20
Madoka and I have been a little more comfortable with each other, but we don't have the same kind of directed communication we usually have. Perhaps it's because we're here for a purpose, and so she's focused on that. After we got back to the guesthouse, we had a little quality time to ourselves and we went looking for something to eat. It had rained and it was pleasant. We found a small restaurant still open. There was almost no one else around, quite different from the swarm of humanity in Bangkok.
Saturday, July 19, 1997
Supplemental - en route to Mae Hong Song
Madoka and I began our travels to the northern part of Thailand. She doesn't know exactly which refugee camp we're going to visit or who is there, she just knows the connections and that it has been arranged.
So today I did some last minute things in Bangkok, walked over to Silom but found everything closed because it is a holiday, and was ready to check out of the YMCA by 2 o'clock. Madoka was supposed to come at about 3 o'clock, but as usual she came early and I was watching TV when she called from the lobby.
My luggage was already in Brenda's room and I took one last look at room 1428, left some cookies for housekeeping and I left. I checked out, paid my bills, gave the front desk people chocolate, and I headed out with Madoka. I had a backpack, my camera, and some water. Madoka had a backpack, her video camera, and her camera. I had maybe 3 or 4 changes of clothes.
We walked over to Silom where she wanted to take a peek into a bookstore, and from there we caught a bus to go to the Bangkok bus station to catch the bus to Mae Hong Song. It was a bit of a way out from Silom and it started to drizzle on the way, the rainy season having started.
We got to the bus station only to find out that there was a new bus station and the bus for Mae Hong Song was at the new station. The new bus station would have been within walking distance, but a downpour began, making it miserable for travelers. We found out which buses would go to the new bus station, and we waited a while for the rain to subside because there were so many people that if we tried to catch any of the buses we were trying to catch, we would have gotten soaked anyway.
When it didn't stop, we just had to suck up and get wet. We ran to one of the buses when it came, and we got wet as expected. It being rush-hour, the short trip took a while. Still, we made it in plenty of time, especially considering that we ended up sitting on the bus for over an hour waiting for it to leave.
The bus trip to Mae Hong Song was already slated to be a 16 hour marathon ride. Things could only get worse. The bus wasn't much better than some of the ordinary buses in Bangkok; it certainly was not one of the luxury coaches that run between Bangkok and Chiang Mai. For starters, the bus left over an hour late. Then as it turned out, bookings to Mae Hong Song are a rather lax affair, and there were so many people booked on the bus that metal folding chairs were set up in the aisles with no regard to safety or comfort. It was incredible, I'd never seen the likes of it before.
The ride was long but modestly comfortable, especially since we were not stuck in the aisle in a folding chair. There was one stop for food at some station, and one stop when the bus broke down for about an hour. We reached Mae Sariang at the time we were supposed to reach Mae Hong Song, and that was when the bus gave out for good and we had to wait for a bus from Mae Hong Song to take us the rest of the way.
We finally arrived at Mae Hong Song four hours late. Not as bad as it could have been. Things have been a little better between Madoka and me, but not by much. Getting out of Bangkok has helped, but we're probably stressed from our travels. If that's the case, I don't know how or when things will settle down to the point that we're really comfortable.
So today I did some last minute things in Bangkok, walked over to Silom but found everything closed because it is a holiday, and was ready to check out of the YMCA by 2 o'clock. Madoka was supposed to come at about 3 o'clock, but as usual she came early and I was watching TV when she called from the lobby.
My luggage was already in Brenda's room and I took one last look at room 1428, left some cookies for housekeeping and I left. I checked out, paid my bills, gave the front desk people chocolate, and I headed out with Madoka. I had a backpack, my camera, and some water. Madoka had a backpack, her video camera, and her camera. I had maybe 3 or 4 changes of clothes.
We walked over to Silom where she wanted to take a peek into a bookstore, and from there we caught a bus to go to the Bangkok bus station to catch the bus to Mae Hong Song. It was a bit of a way out from Silom and it started to drizzle on the way, the rainy season having started.
We got to the bus station only to find out that there was a new bus station and the bus for Mae Hong Song was at the new station. The new bus station would have been within walking distance, but a downpour began, making it miserable for travelers. We found out which buses would go to the new bus station, and we waited a while for the rain to subside because there were so many people that if we tried to catch any of the buses we were trying to catch, we would have gotten soaked anyway.
When it didn't stop, we just had to suck up and get wet. We ran to one of the buses when it came, and we got wet as expected. It being rush-hour, the short trip took a while. Still, we made it in plenty of time, especially considering that we ended up sitting on the bus for over an hour waiting for it to leave.
The bus trip to Mae Hong Song was already slated to be a 16 hour marathon ride. Things could only get worse. The bus wasn't much better than some of the ordinary buses in Bangkok; it certainly was not one of the luxury coaches that run between Bangkok and Chiang Mai. For starters, the bus left over an hour late. Then as it turned out, bookings to Mae Hong Song are a rather lax affair, and there were so many people booked on the bus that metal folding chairs were set up in the aisles with no regard to safety or comfort. It was incredible, I'd never seen the likes of it before.
The ride was long but modestly comfortable, especially since we were not stuck in the aisle in a folding chair. There was one stop for food at some station, and one stop when the bus broke down for about an hour. We reached Mae Sariang at the time we were supposed to reach Mae Hong Song, and that was when the bus gave out for good and we had to wait for a bus from Mae Hong Song to take us the rest of the way.
We finally arrived at Mae Hong Song four hours late. Not as bad as it could have been. Things have been a little better between Madoka and me, but not by much. Getting out of Bangkok has helped, but we're probably stressed from our travels. If that's the case, I don't know how or when things will settle down to the point that we're really comfortable.
Friday, July 18, 1997
Bangkok, Thailand
After getting to sleep at 3 a.m., I woke up at 7 to see Philip and Barbara off to the airport. Caroline had already left at about 5. After they left, I went to meet Madoka at 9 at the Robinson's Department store on Sukhumvit. We met at the McDonald's and we proceeded to the Burmese Lawyers Council office. They are lawyers advocating awareness of the political and military repression in Burma.
We stayed there most of the day and left because Madoka had to change money and she wanted to see some bookstores. She came with me back to the hotel because I had to pick up laundry, and then we went to Silom to look for videotape for her camera and to have dinner. We're leaving tomorrow to start our travels to northern Thailand and to the refugee camps. We'll be traveling for about a week and then we'll be back in Bangkok on the 27th. I'll have two days before leaving for Taipei to see Josephine again.
The summer program is over, but I was still having trouble adjusting into Madoka mode and I think I was a little distant. It was a delight to see her. She's just as fun and inspiring to be with and her friends, as usual, are really cool, but with Philip and Barbara's departure so fresh, it was still too close to the program and I resisted the idea of Madoka coming over to the hotel. Reality mixing - no good. No can do.
But Madoka has always been good at reading my feelings and thoughts, and when she didn't back down to my resistance, I realized that she must also have been in an odd frame of mind and really wanted something to occupy her evening. She's been hanging out with Okada-san, with whom she's not extremely close, and on whom she's probably been feeling that she's been imposing. And Madoka's also not the type to just go out and explore or re-acquaint herself with Bangkok. Nor would I want her to alone. So I conceded and snapped out of my resistance. Things will be much better once we're out of Bangkok and focused on each other and what we're here to do.
We stayed there most of the day and left because Madoka had to change money and she wanted to see some bookstores. She came with me back to the hotel because I had to pick up laundry, and then we went to Silom to look for videotape for her camera and to have dinner. We're leaving tomorrow to start our travels to northern Thailand and to the refugee camps. We'll be traveling for about a week and then we'll be back in Bangkok on the 27th. I'll have two days before leaving for Taipei to see Josephine again.
The summer program is over, but I was still having trouble adjusting into Madoka mode and I think I was a little distant. It was a delight to see her. She's just as fun and inspiring to be with and her friends, as usual, are really cool, but with Philip and Barbara's departure so fresh, it was still too close to the program and I resisted the idea of Madoka coming over to the hotel. Reality mixing - no good. No can do.
But Madoka has always been good at reading my feelings and thoughts, and when she didn't back down to my resistance, I realized that she must also have been in an odd frame of mind and really wanted something to occupy her evening. She's been hanging out with Okada-san, with whom she's not extremely close, and on whom she's probably been feeling that she's been imposing. And Madoka's also not the type to just go out and explore or re-acquaint herself with Bangkok. Nor would I want her to alone. So I conceded and snapped out of my resistance. Things will be much better once we're out of Bangkok and focused on each other and what we're here to do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)