========================
8888(シッレーロン)祈りの灯
======================== 1988年8月8日（シッレーロンの日=８が４つの日）、当時一党独裁下に あったビルマ全土で反政府民主化デモが行われました。国の民主化 活動をリードしていた学生たちをはじめ、僧侶なども参加する全国規模 の平和的なデモ行進でしたが、軍はこの鎮圧に武力を行使し、8月8日 からの3日間で、デモに参加した1000人以上が殺害されました。この デモによって、1962年以来の一党独裁は終わりました。しかし、その後 クーデターによって軍が全権を掌握し、現在までビルマでは軍事政権が 続いています。 19年前のシッレーロンに象徴されるビルマ民主化活動のなかで命を 落としたすべての人々のために、一日も早いビルマの民主化のために、 アウンサンスーチーさんとすべての政治囚の解放のために…… 8月8日午後8時8分、ともに祈りましょう。
場所： 名古屋市栄 栄バスターミナル北・噴水南 （地下鉄栄駅14番出口）
日時： 2007年8月8日（水） 19：30～20：15
主催：SCDB(ビルマ民主化支援会）
共催：アムネスティ・インターナショナル日本わやグループ
連絡先：SCDB（ビルマ民主化支援会）ココラット info@scdb.org ====================================================
SCDB（ビルマ民主化支援会） 〒460-8691 名古屋中郵便局 郵便私書箱174号
SCDB URL : http://www.scdb.org/ E-mail : info@scdb.org ==============================================
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
The day with the children
This weekend was the first weekend in about a month that we stayed in Mae Sot, and it turned out to be one of the most memorable experiences of my life. Our friend Shelly, a local representative of the Body Shop NZ and Children on the Edge visits boarding houses and schools on weekends to bring supplies and organize various activities that they can participate. We were lucky enough to be invited to TMK Boarding House near Po Phra this weekend, to help her run activities that could entertain about 100 kids ages 9 thru 20. TMK Boarding School has been faced with about 50% increase in the number of boarding children since the beginning of this year due to heightened conflict in the nearby Karen village in Burma. In the small clusters of huts, about 6 adult teachers care for approximately 100 boarding students, and 200 students during the school days.
The ride on the rented passenger truck was smooth and fun, with me, Annie, Ilana, British Shelly and Sophia chatting away in the bed among bags of vegetables and boxes of school supplies despite the questionable weather that loomed over the area. The other Shelly (the boss) drove the truck, and Trudy, an Australian teacher who teaches in Mae Sot based migrant school sat in the cab. Once we arrived at the school, we unloaded the supplies and items for today's activities that we purchased in Mae Sot the day before. In the meantime, the children flocked to Shelly wanting to hold her hands and help her carry the supplies. Without further ado, we hastily got ourselves to the classroom where children were already seated waiting for us, and were greeted by cheerful "hello!" as we walked in. We all introduced ourselves in Burmese after the boss Shelly explained a little bit about what the day entailed. There were two teachers that were with us throughout the day, and they translated what we said to the children. So the day of fun began, a day much reminiscent of the field day that we had growing up, mere memory of it bringing back the excitement and made all of our mood lift.
First, Annie, Brit Shelly and myself took the older students who were interested in learning about First Aid to another classroom, while Ilana, Sophia and the boss Shelly carried out face painting and Trudy taught how to make bracelets. In the crash First Aid class, we taught eager children signs & symptoms of diarrhea and infections, how to stop bleeding, how to care for minor ear infections, how to clean a wound and put a bandage or gauze over it, and how to splint. We emphasized "washing hands" as the primary and absolutely necessary step one should take before and after treating someone who is hurt or sick. Kids loved the demonstrations, and were all enthusiastic when we had them volunteer to be the patient or the care provider. Annie, the pioneer of universal precautions, pounded the concept of hand washing to these kids’ brains, and was extremely pleased when we quizzed them at the end and asked “what is the first thing you do if your friend gets a cut” and received a loud clear answer in unison: “wash your hands!” After we were done with the First Aid, all the kids who attended it wanted to shake all of our hands, all giggly and shy, and told us “thank you very much” in perfect English.
Because a couple of girls who were ill were to be taken to a clinic with Shellies and Sophia, the arts & crafts were continued with Ilana, Annie and Trudy. In order to prevent them from being overwhelmed by the hoards of older students pouring out of the First Aid class, I decided to take some energetic boys to play a game of bingo. The bingo cards were not the kind you can punch out the numbers, so they had to use little plastic markers to indicate their progress. There was a moment when I thought the boys were about to fight over them, but with a regal direction from the older boys they distributed democratically and the rest of the game went smoothly until three young ones all reached bingo. I wish I had prizes and for a brief moment I thought about giving them 5 baht coins, but I realized that was a really bad idea, so we just clapped for them and congratulated them. They seemed happy anyway, just to have won the game, so I was pleased.
Since the rain continued to persist and the clinic crew was still not back yet, Annie and I began putting out large papers for mural painting. Even with limited colors of paints distributed among a dozen or so children, they painted beautiful pictures, mixing colors to make new colors that they desired. Watching boys and girls create shapes and people and scenery and objects, I cannot help but reassure that art is such a wonderful medium for children to express themselves, and how it is a shame that many American public schools do not invest in keeping art classes. It is therapeutic, and every child should have a chance to dwell in their creativity because that nurtures senses, and appreciation for small beauty that is all around us thriving even in the harshest environment. I think it can teach children something more necessary as a human being than multiplication tables and spelling.
Sadly, these children only get one full meal a day (dinner). Throughout the day we had to sneak out to the truck to snack to prevent ourselves from getting dizzy or queezy from hunger. I cannot imagine how these growing children can sustain themselves on a single meal and still be so full of vitality and hope. I thought about how privileged and lucky I have been all my life. I daydreamed about having a feast with these children, supplying them with limitless amounts of food that they have only seen in pictures. Nonetheless, two pigs were slaughtered (yes, we heard the squealing, and yes, we saw them gut and skin them) and half of the vegetables we brought were chopped while we played, older children (boys and girls) leaving activities to dutifully prepare one meal that they all live for, for hundred-and-some mouths.
Once the Shellies and Sophia and the two sick girls (one with tonsillitis and another with malaria, as they were diagnosed) returned, we left the arts & crafts for a short while and went to their church for some music sessions. It was absolutely phenomenal. The children opened with Burmese songs with choreography accompanied by the band (guitar, bass, and drums), and the beauty of it all put me in a trance and made me have to hold back my tears. It was so emotional to hear these children who grew up running away and hiding if not nearly killed sing without any withholding, without any worries or bitterness for that brief moment, united in solidarity through creation of music. I live for music, and it gave me more reason to keep it that way. Then Brit Shelly played a couple of songs on her guitar, followed by a sing-along of “you are my sunshine” to which the boss Shelly and Trudy choreographed. After that I played one song on a guitar, and then naturally, I had to reveal my beat boxing. Kids LOVED it. They thought it was the coolest thing in the world (well, I think it’s the coolest thing in the world too), and they made me keep going for a while, which was embarrassing but also wonderful because I could see the kids completely mesmerized, copying what I was doing beaming with smiles. So I divided the children into 4 sections and had each section make a sound and put them all together for a giant beat boxing chorus. It was so much fun. Then the boss Shelly remembered that the drummer could sing a Karen hip-hop/rock song so we made him sing while I beat boxed. All of it was so satisfying. So awesome. Since the children wanted more music, we decided to teach them a verse from “somewhere over the rainbow” and concluded with a song sang by a student and the band. Like art, music is a food for the soul. Medicine for the mind. You don’t need money or expensive instruments or intensive training to make music. All you need is your willingness to create sound, noise, rhythm. I guess in a way I was in my inherent state then, because making music with others, connecting with people through music is something that comes so naturally to me like breathing. I enjoyed the every sound the children made, and I prayed that the music can continue to guide their lives in the days to come.
While we were busy making music, the rain stopped and the sun peaked out a little, so we decided to do some outdoor activities we had planned. First was the egg race. There were about five teams, all lined up giddy from all the fun, excited to compete. Each team got an egg on a spoon, and they had to carry it like a batten while they ran a relay. Then we played egg toss race. Then Annie and I taught a bunch of boys how to play kick-ball. I enjoyed seeing the boys strategizing and team working despite their competitiveness. The game got very heated at certain points, but both teams dealt with it well, and showed amazing sportsmanship that I wish western athletes could have.
We ended the day with Brit Shelly and Sophia dancing with a small group of children to “head shoulder knees and toes” and “hokie pokie” played on the radio that Sophia generously bought for them. I loved watching them dance together and laughing. I love children. They are the holders of the future. They are the seeds of peace. I am happy to see that despite their arduous lives, they were still able to act childish, live in the moment, play hard, and laugh about nothing. So many children all over the world lack chances to act like children. Their expectations are either too high or too low. I hope the educators realize this and give children chances to be themselves. Even in the US, even in Japan. Let them play. Let them be broken. Let them be children.
Some things are the same no matter where you are – the girls were more vocal and more willing to volunteer or speak up, while boys giggled in the back poking fun at each other or at the girls in the front. In almost all activities, girls stuck together in one area, and the boys stuck together away from the cluster of the girls. Not to emphasize gender binary stereotypes (because there was a boy with a sparkly belt who only wanted to play girls, and some girls painted beard and mustache on their faces and wanted to play like boys), but in general boys were more enthusiastic about kick-ball game and played with a bamboo football constantly, while girls continued with painting, bracelet making, and wanting to have flowers and butterflies painted on their faces. All in all though, they were all extremely well behaved, treated each other with respect, and younger children listened to older children who cared for them. This kind of camaraderie is something I have not seen in children I have encountered in a long time. I am so proud of every single child I worked with today. I hope I get to come back an
The ride on the rented passenger truck was smooth and fun, with me, Annie, Ilana, British Shelly and Sophia chatting away in the bed among bags of vegetables and boxes of school supplies despite the questionable weather that loomed over the area. The other Shelly (the boss) drove the truck, and Trudy, an Australian teacher who teaches in Mae Sot based migrant school sat in the cab. Once we arrived at the school, we unloaded the supplies and items for today's activities that we purchased in Mae Sot the day before. In the meantime, the children flocked to Shelly wanting to hold her hands and help her carry the supplies. Without further ado, we hastily got ourselves to the classroom where children were already seated waiting for us, and were greeted by cheerful "hello!" as we walked in. We all introduced ourselves in Burmese after the boss Shelly explained a little bit about what the day entailed. There were two teachers that were with us throughout the day, and they translated what we said to the children. So the day of fun began, a day much reminiscent of the field day that we had growing up, mere memory of it bringing back the excitement and made all of our mood lift.
First, Annie, Brit Shelly and myself took the older students who were interested in learning about First Aid to another classroom, while Ilana, Sophia and the boss Shelly carried out face painting and Trudy taught how to make bracelets. In the crash First Aid class, we taught eager children signs & symptoms of diarrhea and infections, how to stop bleeding, how to care for minor ear infections, how to clean a wound and put a bandage or gauze over it, and how to splint. We emphasized "washing hands" as the primary and absolutely necessary step one should take before and after treating someone who is hurt or sick. Kids loved the demonstrations, and were all enthusiastic when we had them volunteer to be the patient or the care provider. Annie, the pioneer of universal precautions, pounded the concept of hand washing to these kids’ brains, and was extremely pleased when we quizzed them at the end and asked “what is the first thing you do if your friend gets a cut” and received a loud clear answer in unison: “wash your hands!” After we were done with the First Aid, all the kids who attended it wanted to shake all of our hands, all giggly and shy, and told us “thank you very much” in perfect English.
Because a couple of girls who were ill were to be taken to a clinic with Shellies and Sophia, the arts & crafts were continued with Ilana, Annie and Trudy. In order to prevent them from being overwhelmed by the hoards of older students pouring out of the First Aid class, I decided to take some energetic boys to play a game of bingo. The bingo cards were not the kind you can punch out the numbers, so they had to use little plastic markers to indicate their progress. There was a moment when I thought the boys were about to fight over them, but with a regal direction from the older boys they distributed democratically and the rest of the game went smoothly until three young ones all reached bingo. I wish I had prizes and for a brief moment I thought about giving them 5 baht coins, but I realized that was a really bad idea, so we just clapped for them and congratulated them. They seemed happy anyway, just to have won the game, so I was pleased.
Since the rain continued to persist and the clinic crew was still not back yet, Annie and I began putting out large papers for mural painting. Even with limited colors of paints distributed among a dozen or so children, they painted beautiful pictures, mixing colors to make new colors that they desired. Watching boys and girls create shapes and people and scenery and objects, I cannot help but reassure that art is such a wonderful medium for children to express themselves, and how it is a shame that many American public schools do not invest in keeping art classes. It is therapeutic, and every child should have a chance to dwell in their creativity because that nurtures senses, and appreciation for small beauty that is all around us thriving even in the harshest environment. I think it can teach children something more necessary as a human being than multiplication tables and spelling.
Sadly, these children only get one full meal a day (dinner). Throughout the day we had to sneak out to the truck to snack to prevent ourselves from getting dizzy or queezy from hunger. I cannot imagine how these growing children can sustain themselves on a single meal and still be so full of vitality and hope. I thought about how privileged and lucky I have been all my life. I daydreamed about having a feast with these children, supplying them with limitless amounts of food that they have only seen in pictures. Nonetheless, two pigs were slaughtered (yes, we heard the squealing, and yes, we saw them gut and skin them) and half of the vegetables we brought were chopped while we played, older children (boys and girls) leaving activities to dutifully prepare one meal that they all live for, for hundred-and-some mouths.
Once the Shellies and Sophia and the two sick girls (one with tonsillitis and another with malaria, as they were diagnosed) returned, we left the arts & crafts for a short while and went to their church for some music sessions. It was absolutely phenomenal. The children opened with Burmese songs with choreography accompanied by the band (guitar, bass, and drums), and the beauty of it all put me in a trance and made me have to hold back my tears. It was so emotional to hear these children who grew up running away and hiding if not nearly killed sing without any withholding, without any worries or bitterness for that brief moment, united in solidarity through creation of music. I live for music, and it gave me more reason to keep it that way. Then Brit Shelly played a couple of songs on her guitar, followed by a sing-along of “you are my sunshine” to which the boss Shelly and Trudy choreographed. After that I played one song on a guitar, and then naturally, I had to reveal my beat boxing. Kids LOVED it. They thought it was the coolest thing in the world (well, I think it’s the coolest thing in the world too), and they made me keep going for a while, which was embarrassing but also wonderful because I could see the kids completely mesmerized, copying what I was doing beaming with smiles. So I divided the children into 4 sections and had each section make a sound and put them all together for a giant beat boxing chorus. It was so much fun. Then the boss Shelly remembered that the drummer could sing a Karen hip-hop/rock song so we made him sing while I beat boxed. All of it was so satisfying. So awesome. Since the children wanted more music, we decided to teach them a verse from “somewhere over the rainbow” and concluded with a song sang by a student and the band. Like art, music is a food for the soul. Medicine for the mind. You don’t need money or expensive instruments or intensive training to make music. All you need is your willingness to create sound, noise, rhythm. I guess in a way I was in my inherent state then, because making music with others, connecting with people through music is something that comes so naturally to me like breathing. I enjoyed the every sound the children made, and I prayed that the music can continue to guide their lives in the days to come.
While we were busy making music, the rain stopped and the sun peaked out a little, so we decided to do some outdoor activities we had planned. First was the egg race. There were about five teams, all lined up giddy from all the fun, excited to compete. Each team got an egg on a spoon, and they had to carry it like a batten while they ran a relay. Then we played egg toss race. Then Annie and I taught a bunch of boys how to play kick-ball. I enjoyed seeing the boys strategizing and team working despite their competitiveness. The game got very heated at certain points, but both teams dealt with it well, and showed amazing sportsmanship that I wish western athletes could have.
We ended the day with Brit Shelly and Sophia dancing with a small group of children to “head shoulder knees and toes” and “hokie pokie” played on the radio that Sophia generously bought for them. I loved watching them dance together and laughing. I love children. They are the holders of the future. They are the seeds of peace. I am happy to see that despite their arduous lives, they were still able to act childish, live in the moment, play hard, and laugh about nothing. So many children all over the world lack chances to act like children. Their expectations are either too high or too low. I hope the educators realize this and give children chances to be themselves. Even in the US, even in Japan. Let them play. Let them be broken. Let them be children.
Some things are the same no matter where you are – the girls were more vocal and more willing to volunteer or speak up, while boys giggled in the back poking fun at each other or at the girls in the front. In almost all activities, girls stuck together in one area, and the boys stuck together away from the cluster of the girls. Not to emphasize gender binary stereotypes (because there was a boy with a sparkly belt who only wanted to play girls, and some girls painted beard and mustache on their faces and wanted to play like boys), but in general boys were more enthusiastic about kick-ball game and played with a bamboo football constantly, while girls continued with painting, bracelet making, and wanting to have flowers and butterflies painted on their faces. All in all though, they were all extremely well behaved, treated each other with respect, and younger children listened to older children who cared for them. This kind of camaraderie is something I have not seen in children I have encountered in a long time. I am so proud of every single child I worked with today. I hope I get to come back an
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
御無沙汰しております。
昨日、メーソット市内にあるカナダ人経営のレストランで夕食をとった際にテレビでBBC国際版の番組、『最前線の看護師 - Nurses on the Frontline』というシリーズが放送されていました。報道されていたのはビルマ、カレン州の悲劇。カレン州はメーソットのすぐ隣り、国境沿いに流れる川をまたぐ『友情の橋 - Friendship Bridge』を渡った地点から東西南北に広がる山岳地帯の州です。カレン州の山々には主にお米や山菜の栽培で静かに暮らすカレン民族の人々が生活していましたが、ミャンマー軍による民族虐待と惨殺により今ではほとんどのカレン族の人々がジャングルの奥地に逃げ込み、隠れて生活しています。ミャンマー軍は反軍事派のレジスタンスを狙撃するために民主化を望むカレン族の村を襲い、火を放ち、家畜を奪い、ジャングルの各地に地雷を埋めて無差別に攻撃しています。そんな中、反軍事派の『ビルマ解放隊 - Free Burma Rangers(FBR)』という自衛隊が山奥に入りカレン族の人々の護衛と医療を行なっていて、そのじょうきょうが報道されていました。メータオクリニックにも『山岳医療隊 - Back Pack Health Worker Team』があり、FBRと同じように僻地に入りカレン族の治療を行なっています。無菌室も何もない山の中でこういった医療隊は地雷によって重傷の怪我をおった足の切断や、弾丸摘出手術、そしてお産の手助けなどを行なっています。そんな過酷な様子がこの番組で映されていて、こういったことがすぐ私の傍で起こっているなど本当に信じられませんでした。
今年に入ってから内戦は悪化した傾向にあります。クリニックでも幼児の死亡率が上昇、ほとんどが重度の栄養失調の為です。メーソットに難民としてくる子供達の数も今年に入ってから急激に増えて、学校も寮もとても厳しい状態にあります。今日も難民学校を支援しているアメリカの団体がオフィスに来て先日提出し
た報告書について話し合い、資金を増やす為に追加で提案書を作ってくれと言われました。
昨日仕事の合間にドクター・シンシアとお話しした際に『このクリニックを始めた時、ここまで規模が大きくなると思ったか』と聞いたら、『実は3ヶ月ほどでビルマに帰るつもりだった』と笑いながらおっしゃいました。それだけビルマのじょうきょうは劇的に悪化していったのでしょう。今現在もこういったナチスやkkkを思い出させる様な悲劇が起こっているなど信じられません。ビルマにはいつ平和が訪れるのでしょうか・・・。
*****************************************************************************
週末には友達数人とウンパンに行ってきました。ウンパンはアウトドア好きの旅行者のパラダイスで、登山者や川下りで有名です。私達もアウトドアのガイドを雇い、とても素晴らしい自然のジャングルの中を三日間にわたり満喫してきました。初日はトラックでメーソットからウンパンまで盛大な景色の中、くねくねし
た山道を四時間かけて移動し、かわいらしいロッジに一泊。そして次の日は3時間ほどラフトで川を下り、温泉に入って、そこから4時間のトレッキング。ほとんどが昇り坂だったのでかなりしんどかったです。夜はキャンプ場でキャンプをして、終日はタイで一番有名な滝まで行き、またトレッキングとラフティングを続けて帰路につきました。写真はこの書き込みの前日の英語の書き込み↓につけたので見てね。
今年に入ってから内戦は悪化した傾向にあります。クリニックでも幼児の死亡率が上昇、ほとんどが重度の栄養失調の為です。メーソットに難民としてくる子供達の数も今年に入ってから急激に増えて、学校も寮もとても厳しい状態にあります。今日も難民学校を支援しているアメリカの団体がオフィスに来て先日提出し
た報告書について話し合い、資金を増やす為に追加で提案書を作ってくれと言われました。
昨日仕事の合間にドクター・シンシアとお話しした際に『このクリニックを始めた時、ここまで規模が大きくなると思ったか』と聞いたら、『実は3ヶ月ほどでビルマに帰るつもりだった』と笑いながらおっしゃいました。それだけビルマのじょうきょうは劇的に悪化していったのでしょう。今現在もこういったナチスやkkkを思い出させる様な悲劇が起こっているなど信じられません。ビルマにはいつ平和が訪れるのでしょうか・・・。
*****************************************************************************
週末には友達数人とウンパンに行ってきました。ウンパンはアウトドア好きの旅行者のパラダイスで、登山者や川下りで有名です。私達もアウトドアのガイドを雇い、とても素晴らしい自然のジャングルの中を三日間にわたり満喫してきました。初日はトラックでメーソットからウンパンまで盛大な景色の中、くねくねし
た山道を四時間かけて移動し、かわいらしいロッジに一泊。そして次の日は3時間ほどラフトで川を下り、温泉に入って、そこから4時間のトレッキング。ほとんどが昇り坂だったのでかなりしんどかったです。夜はキャンプ場でキャンプをして、終日はタイで一番有名な滝まで行き、またトレッキングとラフティングを続けて帰路につきました。写真はこの書き込みの前日の英語の書き込み↓につけたので見てね。
Monday, July 9, 2007
heart break.
we just got back from dinner at canadian dave's. bbc world was on the TV and it was showing a series called "nurses at the frontline" and of course, the segment was on Free Burma Rangers (FBR) medics and nurses. it really shook me because they said the footage was taped from 2004 into 2007, in karen state, which means it is happening right now, just few miles from where i am sitting. there were stories of raids, 16 year-old mine victim who told his friends to shoot him, and stories of truly innocent farming people being forced into the forest to hide from being killed. there are infants born in the jungle without hope of survival. there are children living in fear without any family members that are alive. i have been encoutering these stories for over a month now, and i still cannot get over it. i don't think i ever will.
i also had a chance to chat with dr. cynthia today, after discussing about one of the school projects i'm involved with. we talked about the clinic's hardships and its accomplishments, and i asked her if she had any idea that her efforts would bloom into something as big as where the clinic is now. she said when she first came here, she meant to be here for three months and then return to burma. she looked at me and smiled after telling me this, in a mixture of contentment and sadness. i will never forget that. i will always look up to her and the clinic. i will follow her footsteps.
i have a lot in my mind now. again, thinking, feeling, about the pain and suffering that exist right around the corner. it is no longer something i read in the book or hear on the news. i could smell the burning villages if i wanted to. i could hear the cries of the karen people if i listened. the faces of these people are in front of me everyday at the clinic.
i want it to end.
i also had a chance to chat with dr. cynthia today, after discussing about one of the school projects i'm involved with. we talked about the clinic's hardships and its accomplishments, and i asked her if she had any idea that her efforts would bloom into something as big as where the clinic is now. she said when she first came here, she meant to be here for three months and then return to burma. she looked at me and smiled after telling me this, in a mixture of contentment and sadness. i will never forget that. i will always look up to her and the clinic. i will follow her footsteps.
i have a lot in my mind now. again, thinking, feeling, about the pain and suffering that exist right around the corner. it is no longer something i read in the book or hear on the news. i could smell the burning villages if i wanted to. i could hear the cries of the karen people if i listened. the faces of these people are in front of me everyday at the clinic.
i want it to end.
Speedos, rummy of death, spider shrils, big boy, and the forces of nature
Another weekend of wonderful adventures - Greg, Annie, Ilana and I decided to take the Umphang trekking/rafting trip at the last minute. Andy (aka daddy) had to work so he couldn't come, which was sad and we all missed him tremendously throughout the weekend, but Greg (aka grandpa - don't tell him we call him that) kept us cheparoned.
DAY 1
Friday morning we got picked up by our guide Peetuk in a hooded pickup, slightly nervous and curious of what the weekend entailed. After stopping at the (name will be placed here)waterfall , Peetuk told us that there are about 1200 curves on the road to Umphang, so the girls took the anti-motion sickness pills and Greg sat in front, while I settled myself seated forward on the floor of the bed with an ipod. Music is my medicine. The drive was absolutely gorgeous, although yes, it was curvey and I am glad I did not get ill - the girls were passed out on the seats in the bed, and I somehow got stuck with the job of holding their bodies when the truck hit the hairpins so that they wouldn't fall. The view was just simply breathtaking. It was like a scenery from a postcard or a special on discovery channel; the mist was rolling in and out through the lush green of the jungle that continued far into the horizon, creating an illusion that we were flying through the waves of a green leafy ocean.
We drove passed numerous corn fields and rice fields, as well as Umpyiong refugee camp that we had only known in the proposals and reports we wrote, and stopped for thai omlette lunch at a rest stop. We continued further into the jungle, occasionally passing Karen and hilltribe people's simple huts.
Umphang is a small mountain town popular for tourists who seek aquatic and alpine expeditions. Since it is a rainy season, there were hardly anyone there when we arrived, which we found exciting. It's at a little bit shy of 1000 m above sea level, and consists of many trekking, rafting, and kayaking tour groups and attractive lodges that cater to western taste of vacation. We were brought to one of them, which we absolutely loved - wooden log-house compound surrounded by various tropical fruit trees and exotic flowers. Peetuk collected some star fruit (which became a staple during our trip) from the tree and told us to rest a little before he took us on a trek to (name will be placed here) waterfall. So Greg and Annie went to sleep, while Ilana read and I wrote. Then we put our hiking gears on and went out (Annie was so groggy from the motion-sickness pill which was quite funny...) in the soft quiet drizzle, out to what seemed like an endless patch of rice paddies. Then Peetuk led us through the ledges of the rice fields (where Greg continuously slipped into the rice paddies and made Peetuk yell out "Mind the rice Mr. Greg!"). He told us that during the dry season, you can drive through where the rice pddies are and get closer to the waterfall, which made sense because there was no trail. We were just following the footsteps of rice farmers who use the ledges to go check on the growth of their precious crops. So we continued on, getting muddy to the knees, ducking under the trees and crossing the small river by walking across slippery logs. The utter simplicity of it all, the childish drive for adventures through the rice paddies and the log crossing made me feel giddy, reminding me of my Japanese heritage and how the sight of all this was somehow familiar, in my blood, even though I was born and raised in a big city away from untouched nature. Parts of this trail was pretty tricky, slippery from wet leaves and mud. But we made it to the fall, which was very pretty and Greg went swimming in his Speedos while the rest of us sat and had some sunflower seeds and took multiple pictures. On the way back, Peetuk found us tart wild limes which we tasted (and Annie accidentally squirted into her eye) and learned that hilltribe people use them to keep snakes away. All tired, giddy and expremely happy, we made our way home to our lodge, thankful for the hot shower waiting for us.
We were ravenous by the time Peetuk picked us up again for dinner. We were brought to a restaurant just down the street from our lodge, and multiple platters of delicious Thai food were served: broiled whole fish (sorry for being ignorant but i couldn't tell what fish it was... may be an equivalent of Japanese tai fish?), fried egg salad, coconut tom yum, and port stir fry and endless supply of rice! I LOVED THEM ALL. They were trully delicious whether it is because I was hungry, because I was happy, I ate like I had not eaten anything in days, and enjoyed every bite. Full belly and a day of travelling hit us like a hammer and we were all of a sudden exhausted, ready to hit the pillow. Peetuk took us back to our lodge, and told us about the following day's plan, and left us to sleep. Lulled by jokes and stories told by each one of us we slowly dosed off into dreams in our cute bunk-bedded bungalow.
DAY 2
My watch alarm went off sooner than expected, and there was a hint of sun leaking into the bungalow through the skylight. I awoke the rest of the team and packed my bag for the rafting/trekking, double bagging everything inside my pack with plastic bags. After another delicious meal of Thai breakfast (spicy shrimp salad, salty egg salad, boiled rice, fried pork, and fried dough with condensed milk) we were brought to the upstream boat drop-off point on the Umphang river before it meets Mehklong river where we will be rafting for the rest of the weekend. We met the rest of the crew, a cook, a river guide, and his girlfriend. So we all pile onto the pink rubber raft much like the ones used in the North America, with Peetuk's hand made (very very well made) paddles, our camping gears, and food supplies for the next couple of days. The river was fairly fast flowing and contained few grade 1-3 rapids. Soon after the launch we merge onto Mehklong river, and the scenery begins to evolve into jagged clifs decorated with bamboos and teek trees and fig trees. The sun was out by then, unexpectedly and completely to our surprise. Everything was beautiful. 
The bottom of the clifs that soar above our heads were stolactites of all sizes dripping rain water like thin laces into the river. Magpies and dragon flies in many different colors kimmed the suface of the river we were embraced by the peace of the nature, alive but serene. We ate star fruits when we got hungry, and we hummed when we felt the music emerging from the insides. Peetuk told us stories about caves we came acrosss, and the vegitation we encountered. Annie continued to jump for any tickle on her leg or a sight of a bug in her vicinity, nearly jumping off the boat a couple of times our of erachnophobia. Everyone except for Greg and I were sympathetic and helped her stay spider-free. Along the way, we docked shortly to swim in the hot spring (ah, the joy of a natural spring! Halleluia for being Japanese!), and then to have lunch; another scrumtuous meal prepared by the restaurant back in Umphang, carefully packed in individual to-go boxes.
After another couple of hours of rafting, we reach our destination where we repacked our packs with sleeping bags and put on our hiking shoes (well, for Ilana, a pair of gum-boots and bumble bee wool socks that came up to her thigs, which made her look like either a commando or a Jersey farmer gone wrong). We left the boat, rafting gears, the raft leader and his grilfriend who planned to fish overnight at the site. There were a couple of other people there fishing, tying their hammocks onto bamboo posts they made, carefully pitched under the cliff where they were shltered from rain. Oon, the cook led the pack, and Peetuk stayed on the tail. Annie and I followed Oon most of the way, joined by Ilana in the middle of it, until we were too behind from Oon and too far ahead from Greg and Peetuk so we were essentially hiking on our own. The trail was half paved and half unpaved, 75% of it uphill, at at least 45 degrees slope. It was hard. The bitter recognition of how out of shape I am punched me in my face. My right hip-felxer (which I had hurt before) began to throb, but kept a good spirit singing rugby songs because the scenery and the scent of the rich vivacious forest could not do anything but give me vitality. The weather held up, and the time passed fast while three of us girls chatted about life and took fun pictures.
We hit a Y after a few hours (which turned out to be the entrance to our camp site) and since there were no Oon in sight, we decided to wait for Greg and peetuk, swarmed by mosquitos and fighting back with deet. Then it happened. We heard voices of our loving grandpa and Peetuk, and the sight of Greg's bare, lanky legs. He arrived in his speedos, socks and hicking shoes still intact, waving and smiling wildly at us. The three of us bursted into uncontrollable laughter, and Ilana took a fantastic portrait of Greg flaunting in his outfit making a peace sign with his hand. That photo, my friends, will be framed and hang on my wall in honor of the craziest middle-age man I have ever met whom I secretly admire to become. So we make the last 300 m poking fun at Greg and laughing, to the comp site where there were already some tents pitched by other trekkers. Exhausted and hungry, we propped our stuff on the benches and stretched, while Peetuk busily set up the tents and Oon hastily began preparing our dinners, and Greg terrorized the women at the concession stand by still flaunting in his little speedos, strangers at the concessing stand, strangers laughing and connecting through odd humor that somehow lacks border.
After the cold shower, we began playing rummy. Greg didn't remember how to play it, so we taught him how, and Ilana continued to learn (she was a rookie a couple of weeks ago) until we were interrupted by yet another delicious meal prepared this time by Oon. We were greeted with chicken soup, pork and green beans stir fry, vegitable stir fry, and mixed drink made with Thai-style sake in a beautifully hand carved bamboo cup (made at the camp that day). We again devoured everything like we were animals, truly enjoying the momment of unrestrained contentment. Oon came to the table when we were finishing up, and showed us tricks on a string, by which we were thoroughly amused, and began our rummy tournament by the candle light that ended up making everybody to hate me revealing their competitive nature. The point is, that I won, landslide, getting far from Annie who was at the lead in the begining with my face-card runs and three-of-aces. Ilana started off in the middle but Greg who scored negative 60 in the first round somehow outdone her and ended up at the bottom. I had a lot of fun while each one of them bitterly (and obviously half jokingly.... at least I thought so...) commented on how it's fun because I was winning. Darn tough crowd. By the time the lights were turned off (we were all pitched under a roof where there were lights) we were all exhausted and the bugs got really bad so we decided to call it a night. Except excited Peetuk came to each tent and told us that he found a glow-in-the-dark mushroom and showed us pictures he took. I think Annie was passed out by then, but Greg, Ilana and I went out and checked it out. It was phenomenal, utterly psychadelic! It was a genuine glow-in-the-dark shroom shining green like a night light at the edge of a concession stand. Ilana and I felt even more adventurous, so we headed out to the bathroom where we kept hearing mysterious barking sound to find out who was making the noise. We were acting like a couple of teenagers at a summer camp. It was nothing but fun. We found out it was a little dinky frog with a monsterous croaking while Ilana tried to scare me by "boo"-ing. After the satisfaction of successfully finding out what it was and a slight dissapointment of it being just a frog, we went to sleep in the tent, cozy in the complete darkness and the silence, little flickers of fire flies fading as the depth of sleep took over our consciousness.
DAY 3
As the sun came up so were the campers. I had forgotten about this aspect of camping. Luckily they did not start making a lot of noise until my watch alarm went off so I was able to doze in and out of sleep until the momment I had to get up. I re-packed my pack which was begining to smell (I'm sure you wanted to know that detail) and got out of the tent for a fresh air. The sky looked slightly sketchy, and by the time we sat down for breakfast it was begining to pour. Feared by nothing, we got out to the Namtok Thi Lo Su waterfall, the most famous waterfall in the entire Thailand, that is just about 1.5 km away from the camp site. The waterfall was just beautiful. I got the same soul shaking sensation I get whenever I'm standing by an amazing creation of the forces of nature; a sense of connecting with the past, the monumental power of earth that made first man shake at the sight of the beauty the way it touched me now. The mist rested in crystaline beads on our eye lashes and we all took momments of peace to ourselves indulging the view. I could not help but sing my favorite river song (even though I can't quite remember the second line of the verse... ha ha ha) and appreciate everything that made my presence there possible.
Annie, Ilana and I hiked out of the waterfall before Greg and Peetuk, because yet again, Greg went swimming in his little speedos. We had early lunch after that, prepared by Oon and enjoyed by all, some egg-tofu soup and stir fry of various types. Magically, by the time we were leaving the camp to trek back to the raft, it stopped raining, and so we were once again back on the trail, climbing uphill that seemed like forever.
It felt shorter though, because the length of the uphill was actually shorter on the way back. We were happy about that. Once we reached the cave where our river guide and his girl friend awaited, they had already got the boat nealy ready, and had caught a good sized catfish. We had some starfruit to regain some energy before getting on the raft, and we were off again, afloat on the Mehklong river to make our way further downstream. Then Annie jumps up to the sky at the sight of a spider. Then we pass some wild orange orchids. Then Annie stares down at the tree branch that was about to brush her head to make sure the spider was not jumping on her. Then a gigantic (quite phallic) stalotite with Peetuk grinning in the back yelling "The big boy!" A boat full of laughter. We hit a strong white water and the front half of the raft gets splashed with cool water. More laughter. Then a long high-pitched shrill like someone was getting killed. A rather giant spider on Ilana's knee that the river guide's girlfriend swiftly got rid of. We laughed so damn hard then, that everyone's stomach hurt. I don't think I have had this much fun in a while. Everything was so perfect. I loved every momment of it. As we made further downriver, we heard some trees fall that we all fell silent for, to hear every break of every branch, to imagine the size and the type of the falling tree, thinking about how long it lived and why it was finally falling, until the forest regained its normal sounds.
At Peetuk's call for "paddle harder please!" we turned our raft onto a merging stream upstream, paddled hard for few meters and reached our final destination. The raft got pulled out of water as soon as we got out, was deflated, and soon after, the truck arrived to pick us all up. deflated raft and gears on the top, all of us piling onto the hooded bed among our packs and leftover star fruit and the freshly caught catfish. Peetuk was making jokes with catfish, moving its jaws and trying to make it talk as I drifted into shallow sleep lulled by the roaring engine of the truck beneath my feet. We were brought back to the cottage where we stayed the first night where we were able to take a shower. After the shower we were fed some pad thai and Thai sweets, and all got back onto the truck (the bed was lined with bamboo mats and cushions for our comforts) and made our way back to Mae Sot. The ride home was curvey and we all got kinda car sick... (except for Annie, of course) I was knocked out from the motion sickness pill, and wished I could keep sleeping as we rolled into our lovely Mae Sot.
I truly enjoyed this expedition, and I recommend anyone who is in the area to do it. Esapecially if you have extra love for wilderness and adventures, go contact Peetuk! I will put the contact information here in the near future.
DAY 1
Friday morning we got picked up by our guide Peetuk in a hooded pickup, slightly nervous and curious of what the weekend entailed. After stopping at the (name will be placed here)waterfall , Peetuk told us that there are about 1200 curves on the road to Umphang, so the girls took the anti-motion sickness pills and Greg sat in front, while I settled myself seated forward on the floor of the bed with an ipod. Music is my medicine. The drive was absolutely gorgeous, although yes, it was curvey and I am glad I did not get ill - the girls were passed out on the seats in the bed, and I somehow got stuck with the job of holding their bodies when the truck hit the hairpins so that they wouldn't fall. The view was just simply breathtaking. It was like a scenery from a postcard or a special on discovery channel; the mist was rolling in and out through the lush green of the jungle that continued far into the horizon, creating an illusion that we were flying through the waves of a green leafy ocean.
We drove passed numerous corn fields and rice fields, as well as Umpyiong refugee camp that we had only known in the proposals and reports we wrote, and stopped for thai omlette lunch at a rest stop. We continued further into the jungle, occasionally passing Karen and hilltribe people's simple huts. Umphang is a small mountain town popular for tourists who seek aquatic and alpine expeditions. Since it is a rainy season, there were hardly anyone there when we arrived, which we found exciting. It's at a little bit shy of 1000 m above sea level, and consists of many trekking, rafting, and kayaking tour groups and attractive lodges that cater to western taste of vacation. We were brought to one of them, which we absolutely loved - wooden log-house compound surrounded by various tropical fruit trees and exotic flowers. Peetuk collected some star fruit (which became a staple during our trip) from the tree and told us to rest a little before he took us on a trek to (name will be placed here) waterfall. So Greg and Annie went to sleep, while Ilana read and I wrote. Then we put our hiking gears on and went out (Annie was so groggy from the motion-sickness pill which was quite funny...) in the soft quiet drizzle, out to what seemed like an endless patch of rice paddies. Then Peetuk led us through the ledges of the rice fields (where Greg continuously slipped into the rice paddies and made Peetuk yell out "Mind the rice Mr. Greg!"). He told us that during the dry season, you can drive through where the rice pddies are and get closer to the waterfall, which made sense because there was no trail. We were just following the footsteps of rice farmers who use the ledges to go check on the growth of their precious crops. So we continued on, getting muddy to the knees, ducking under the trees and crossing the small river by walking across slippery logs. The utter simplicity of it all, the childish drive for adventures through the rice paddies and the log crossing made me feel giddy, reminding me of my Japanese heritage and how the sight of all this was somehow familiar, in my blood, even though I was born and raised in a big city away from untouched nature. Parts of this trail was pretty tricky, slippery from wet leaves and mud. But we made it to the fall, which was very pretty and Greg went swimming in his Speedos while the rest of us sat and had some sunflower seeds and took multiple pictures. On the way back, Peetuk found us tart wild limes which we tasted (and Annie accidentally squirted into her eye) and learned that hilltribe people use them to keep snakes away. All tired, giddy and expremely happy, we made our way home to our lodge, thankful for the hot shower waiting for us.
We were ravenous by the time Peetuk picked us up again for dinner. We were brought to a restaurant just down the street from our lodge, and multiple platters of delicious Thai food were served: broiled whole fish (sorry for being ignorant but i couldn't tell what fish it was... may be an equivalent of Japanese tai fish?), fried egg salad, coconut tom yum, and port stir fry and endless supply of rice! I LOVED THEM ALL. They were trully delicious whether it is because I was hungry, because I was happy, I ate like I had not eaten anything in days, and enjoyed every bite. Full belly and a day of travelling hit us like a hammer and we were all of a sudden exhausted, ready to hit the pillow. Peetuk took us back to our lodge, and told us about the following day's plan, and left us to sleep. Lulled by jokes and stories told by each one of us we slowly dosed off into dreams in our cute bunk-bedded bungalow.
DAY 2
My watch alarm went off sooner than expected, and there was a hint of sun leaking into the bungalow through the skylight. I awoke the rest of the team and packed my bag for the rafting/trekking, double bagging everything inside my pack with plastic bags. After another delicious meal of Thai breakfast (spicy shrimp salad, salty egg salad, boiled rice, fried pork, and fried dough with condensed milk) we were brought to the upstream boat drop-off point on the Umphang river before it meets Mehklong river where we will be rafting for the rest of the weekend. We met the rest of the crew, a cook, a river guide, and his girlfriend. So we all pile onto the pink rubber raft much like the ones used in the North America, with Peetuk's hand made (very very well made) paddles, our camping gears, and food supplies for the next couple of days. The river was fairly fast flowing and contained few grade 1-3 rapids. Soon after the launch we merge onto Mehklong river, and the scenery begins to evolve into jagged clifs decorated with bamboos and teek trees and fig trees. The sun was out by then, unexpectedly and completely to our surprise. Everything was beautiful. 
The bottom of the clifs that soar above our heads were stolactites of all sizes dripping rain water like thin laces into the river. Magpies and dragon flies in many different colors kimmed the suface of the river we were embraced by the peace of the nature, alive but serene. We ate star fruits when we got hungry, and we hummed when we felt the music emerging from the insides. Peetuk told us stories about caves we came acrosss, and the vegitation we encountered. Annie continued to jump for any tickle on her leg or a sight of a bug in her vicinity, nearly jumping off the boat a couple of times our of erachnophobia. Everyone except for Greg and I were sympathetic and helped her stay spider-free. Along the way, we docked shortly to swim in the hot spring (ah, the joy of a natural spring! Halleluia for being Japanese!), and then to have lunch; another scrumtuous meal prepared by the restaurant back in Umphang, carefully packed in individual to-go boxes. After another couple of hours of rafting, we reach our destination where we repacked our packs with sleeping bags and put on our hiking shoes (well, for Ilana, a pair of gum-boots and bumble bee wool socks that came up to her thigs, which made her look like either a commando or a Jersey farmer gone wrong). We left the boat, rafting gears, the raft leader and his grilfriend who planned to fish overnight at the site. There were a couple of other people there fishing, tying their hammocks onto bamboo posts they made, carefully pitched under the cliff where they were shltered from rain. Oon, the cook led the pack, and Peetuk stayed on the tail. Annie and I followed Oon most of the way, joined by Ilana in the middle of it, until we were too behind from Oon and too far ahead from Greg and Peetuk so we were essentially hiking on our own. The trail was half paved and half unpaved, 75% of it uphill, at at least 45 degrees slope. It was hard. The bitter recognition of how out of shape I am punched me in my face. My right hip-felxer (which I had hurt before) began to throb, but kept a good spirit singing rugby songs because the scenery and the scent of the rich vivacious forest could not do anything but give me vitality. The weather held up, and the time passed fast while three of us girls chatted about life and took fun pictures.
We hit a Y after a few hours (which turned out to be the entrance to our camp site) and since there were no Oon in sight, we decided to wait for Greg and peetuk, swarmed by mosquitos and fighting back with deet. Then it happened. We heard voices of our loving grandpa and Peetuk, and the sight of Greg's bare, lanky legs. He arrived in his speedos, socks and hicking shoes still intact, waving and smiling wildly at us. The three of us bursted into uncontrollable laughter, and Ilana took a fantastic portrait of Greg flaunting in his outfit making a peace sign with his hand. That photo, my friends, will be framed and hang on my wall in honor of the craziest middle-age man I have ever met whom I secretly admire to become. So we make the last 300 m poking fun at Greg and laughing, to the comp site where there were already some tents pitched by other trekkers. Exhausted and hungry, we propped our stuff on the benches and stretched, while Peetuk busily set up the tents and Oon hastily began preparing our dinners, and Greg terrorized the women at the concession stand by still flaunting in his little speedos, strangers at the concessing stand, strangers laughing and connecting through odd humor that somehow lacks border. After the cold shower, we began playing rummy. Greg didn't remember how to play it, so we taught him how, and Ilana continued to learn (she was a rookie a couple of weeks ago) until we were interrupted by yet another delicious meal prepared this time by Oon. We were greeted with chicken soup, pork and green beans stir fry, vegitable stir fry, and mixed drink made with Thai-style sake in a beautifully hand carved bamboo cup (made at the camp that day). We again devoured everything like we were animals, truly enjoying the momment of unrestrained contentment. Oon came to the table when we were finishing up, and showed us tricks on a string, by which we were thoroughly amused, and began our rummy tournament by the candle light that ended up making everybody to hate me revealing their competitive nature. The point is, that I won, landslide, getting far from Annie who was at the lead in the begining with my face-card runs and three-of-aces. Ilana started off in the middle but Greg who scored negative 60 in the first round somehow outdone her and ended up at the bottom. I had a lot of fun while each one of them bitterly (and obviously half jokingly.... at least I thought so...) commented on how it's fun because I was winning. Darn tough crowd. By the time the lights were turned off (we were all pitched under a roof where there were lights) we were all exhausted and the bugs got really bad so we decided to call it a night. Except excited Peetuk came to each tent and told us that he found a glow-in-the-dark mushroom and showed us pictures he took. I think Annie was passed out by then, but Greg, Ilana and I went out and checked it out. It was phenomenal, utterly psychadelic! It was a genuine glow-in-the-dark shroom shining green like a night light at the edge of a concession stand. Ilana and I felt even more adventurous, so we headed out to the bathroom where we kept hearing mysterious barking sound to find out who was making the noise. We were acting like a couple of teenagers at a summer camp. It was nothing but fun. We found out it was a little dinky frog with a monsterous croaking while Ilana tried to scare me by "boo"-ing. After the satisfaction of successfully finding out what it was and a slight dissapointment of it being just a frog, we went to sleep in the tent, cozy in the complete darkness and the silence, little flickers of fire flies fading as the depth of sleep took over our consciousness.
DAY 3
As the sun came up so were the campers. I had forgotten about this aspect of camping. Luckily they did not start making a lot of noise until my watch alarm went off so I was able to doze in and out of sleep until the momment I had to get up. I re-packed my pack which was begining to smell (I'm sure you wanted to know that detail) and got out of the tent for a fresh air. The sky looked slightly sketchy, and by the time we sat down for breakfast it was begining to pour. Feared by nothing, we got out to the Namtok Thi Lo Su waterfall, the most famous waterfall in the entire Thailand, that is just about 1.5 km away from the camp site. The waterfall was just beautiful. I got the same soul shaking sensation I get whenever I'm standing by an amazing creation of the forces of nature; a sense of connecting with the past, the monumental power of earth that made first man shake at the sight of the beauty the way it touched me now. The mist rested in crystaline beads on our eye lashes and we all took momments of peace to ourselves indulging the view. I could not help but sing my favorite river song (even though I can't quite remember the second line of the verse... ha ha ha) and appreciate everything that made my presence there possible. Annie, Ilana and I hiked out of the waterfall before Greg and Peetuk, because yet again, Greg went swimming in his little speedos. We had early lunch after that, prepared by Oon and enjoyed by all, some egg-tofu soup and stir fry of various types. Magically, by the time we were leaving the camp to trek back to the raft, it stopped raining, and so we were once again back on the trail, climbing uphill that seemed like forever.
It felt shorter though, because the length of the uphill was actually shorter on the way back. We were happy about that. Once we reached the cave where our river guide and his girl friend awaited, they had already got the boat nealy ready, and had caught a good sized catfish. We had some starfruit to regain some energy before getting on the raft, and we were off again, afloat on the Mehklong river to make our way further downstream. Then Annie jumps up to the sky at the sight of a spider. Then we pass some wild orange orchids. Then Annie stares down at the tree branch that was about to brush her head to make sure the spider was not jumping on her. Then a gigantic (quite phallic) stalotite with Peetuk grinning in the back yelling "The big boy!" A boat full of laughter. We hit a strong white water and the front half of the raft gets splashed with cool water. More laughter. Then a long high-pitched shrill like someone was getting killed. A rather giant spider on Ilana's knee that the river guide's girlfriend swiftly got rid of. We laughed so damn hard then, that everyone's stomach hurt. I don't think I have had this much fun in a while. Everything was so perfect. I loved every momment of it. As we made further downriver, we heard some trees fall that we all fell silent for, to hear every break of every branch, to imagine the size and the type of the falling tree, thinking about how long it lived and why it was finally falling, until the forest regained its normal sounds.At Peetuk's call for "paddle harder please!" we turned our raft onto a merging stream upstream, paddled hard for few meters and reached our final destination. The raft got pulled out of water as soon as we got out, was deflated, and soon after, the truck arrived to pick us all up. deflated raft and gears on the top, all of us piling onto the hooded bed among our packs and leftover star fruit and the freshly caught catfish. Peetuk was making jokes with catfish, moving its jaws and trying to make it talk as I drifted into shallow sleep lulled by the roaring engine of the truck beneath my feet. We were brought back to the cottage where we stayed the first night where we were able to take a shower. After the shower we were fed some pad thai and Thai sweets, and all got back onto the truck (the bed was lined with bamboo mats and cushions for our comforts) and made our way back to Mae Sot. The ride home was curvey and we all got kinda car sick... (except for Annie, of course) I was knocked out from the motion sickness pill, and wished I could keep sleeping as we rolled into our lovely Mae Sot.
I truly enjoyed this expedition, and I recommend anyone who is in the area to do it. Esapecially if you have extra love for wilderness and adventures, go contact Peetuk! I will put the contact information here in the near future.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Minglah bar, knee kaung jah lah? (Hello, how are you guys?)
We have officially entered the rainy season.... We have not seen a "real" sunshine in days... Seriously, my old birks have molded and I am currently contemplating how to clean them up. The laundry nearly dries. Everything is damp and kinda sticky.
With the change in the weather came common colds and infections, plaguing all the foreign workers. Luckily neither Annie or I have been sick yet (other than a few short lived GI malfunctions) so cross your fingers.
I have learned recently, that there are more inpatient deaths at the clinic than I was aware. Various medical students who are on rotation here at the clinic have informed me that they have lost their patients in the last few weeks. The reason, they say, is an unfortunate inability of the clinic to be able to spend money on differential techniques to diagnose the patients - in other words, they cannot spend money on running multiple tests like blood smears, x-rays, and CAT scans on severely ill patients, thus not able to come up with treatment that could be advantageous. This, I believe, is a mere fact of the hardship that the self-sustainable free clinic such as the MTC faces; the extreme version of managed care that from outsiders may seem unfair or inadequate. I personally think that the clinic is doing a fantastic job considering the grave circumstance under which it operates. The structure of managed care is a necessity at a place like the clinic, because they only have a limited amount of resources and money. They have to triage who could be cured from the treatment and medicines that they have, and thus the expensive tests and referrals to a local hospital can be maximized in their benefits. I understand that it sounds cruel, but otherwise the efficiency of the clinic will diminish, and so would its resources. I do feel bad for these driven medical students whose honest wishes are to save people's lives. They say they feel helpless, and that they are frustrated for not being able to use their pocket money to run diagnostic smears and x-rays and refer for treatments at the hospital. I think I would feel the same way if I was actually in the clinical units. Only because I see the overall outcome of the clinic and its progress over the course of its existence (as part of my job) am I able to see that its system does work, and that it has saved the lives of numerous individuals who would have otherwise been lost. I am very much at awe of how self-sustainable (which is typically the main problem many locally run non-government recognized non-profits face) the clinic is, and how well educated the medics and staff are (mind you, they are all taught at the clinic and its affiliates). Dr. Cynthia is truly my hero, and I am honored to be working with her on a daily basis.
So some fun things:
Yesterday was my 26th birthday, and my wonderful friends here (a diverse menagerie of Americans, Brits, Canadian and New Zealander) threw me a party. Annie and Ilana did a relay of cooking in the afternoon, frying tortilla chips and making grilled cheese sandwitches and tomato soup from scratch. Caroline made delicious fruit salad and brought the highlight of the drink selection we had; the "Mc Hammer" whiskey. The table was decorated with candles and flowers, and they got me a cake with two cats (signifying my Tiki and Tembo that I miss so incredibly) on it that actually said "Happy Birthday Yumi" and other cute decorated small cakes that were so tastey. Seriously, this was one of the bestest birthdays I have ever had. We played music on guitar, sang along, and hung out while it continued raining outside. It was a cozy night of good company and good food, laughs and discussions, and I am so lucky and fortunate to have these friends who love me and care for me in this tiny town of Mae Sot.
*******************************************************
Last weekend, a whole bunch of us (mostly the folks I mentioned in my birthday story) took a motorbike to Taksin Maharat National Park. Andy found a little cabin that we could stay, so we decided to give mortorbikes a try. The most of the drivers were new at this skill, so the passangers (including myself) was difinately skepitacle of actually making it to the park without dying, since we all knew that the road to the park is windy mountainous road that are often cruised by large overloaded trucks that ignored the trafic lanes(remember the government minivan trip I mentioned before...). But the weather held up (until right before we reached the park) and the ride was actually very nice and beautiful although yes, two folks had flat tires, and yes, we almost ran out of gas, and Ilana and I went passed the actual park and had to make our way back uphill, in the rain and the wind, through motorvehicle accidents, and nearly gotten run over by two cars and almost flipped ourselves over into the ditch. HA HA HA. No joke. Not funny.
We ended up renting a larger cottage shared with 12 (?) of us unlike the original plan of staying in the two smaller units. It overlooked the beautiful hills of the park, and the fog came rolling in and out like my beloved San Francisco. Anyway, after lunching on a plate of spicey pork rice, we went on a hike which I absolutely loved. It was very much an authentic jungle hike, some on the paved road but mostly in the wet trails that required some bush whacking and trail blazing. All through the hike you could hear the loud cries of cicadas, and exotic birds poked their heads out from time to time. Misty wind blew through the valley and it just felt really refreshing. We first went to the "Big Tree" that the park prides itself on, and to the water fall where some of us went wading. BUT this is where the nightmare (particularly for Ilana) officially began. The LEECHES. I mean, they were EVERYWHERE. If you stood still for even for 5 seconds, they were literally all over your feet, up your legs, sucking blood out of you. The survival of the fittest at its best, and we were not the fittest. Obviously none of us enjoyed this, but most of us pulled ourselves together and decided to hike out of the jungle as soon as possible. Ilana, bless her heart, was ABSOLUTELY HORRIFIED. I kept hearing screams in the back (because I decided to lead the pack) time and again, and we took turns ripping the little creatures off of her feet because she could not touch them. Finally when we were few kilos from the trailhead, she says I can't take it anymore, and takes off, running full speed through steep uphill like a wind. Later I recommended her that she should join a cross-country team, and have her teammates place leeches on her feet.
Nonetheless, we all got back to the cabin safely, got washed up - Caroline's feet were completely covered in blood regardless of her socks and sneakers - and had a great evening of card playing and feasting in the stormy jungle weather. The planning of the trip home was rather stressful, because the weather was crappy when we got up, and one of the drivers test drove the bike and skidded and fell, scraping his arm. But we worked things out, and the one bike and myself along with three other girls were driven out of the park by the truck all the way to Mae Sot, and the rest actually drove the bike without any incidents, except for Andy's bike whose transmission blew just outside of Mae Sot, and had to flag down a nice trucker who brought him back to town.
We were all exhausted by the time we got back, but I trully enjoyed being out in the wild, taking a break from the daily life of Mae Sot.
We also started taking Burmese lessons! We will give you a report on that in the near future. I love it. My favorite phrase is:
"Twey yadda wanta ba deh" which means "I'm glad to meet you!" :D
With the change in the weather came common colds and infections, plaguing all the foreign workers. Luckily neither Annie or I have been sick yet (other than a few short lived GI malfunctions) so cross your fingers.
I have learned recently, that there are more inpatient deaths at the clinic than I was aware. Various medical students who are on rotation here at the clinic have informed me that they have lost their patients in the last few weeks. The reason, they say, is an unfortunate inability of the clinic to be able to spend money on differential techniques to diagnose the patients - in other words, they cannot spend money on running multiple tests like blood smears, x-rays, and CAT scans on severely ill patients, thus not able to come up with treatment that could be advantageous. This, I believe, is a mere fact of the hardship that the self-sustainable free clinic such as the MTC faces; the extreme version of managed care that from outsiders may seem unfair or inadequate. I personally think that the clinic is doing a fantastic job considering the grave circumstance under which it operates. The structure of managed care is a necessity at a place like the clinic, because they only have a limited amount of resources and money. They have to triage who could be cured from the treatment and medicines that they have, and thus the expensive tests and referrals to a local hospital can be maximized in their benefits. I understand that it sounds cruel, but otherwise the efficiency of the clinic will diminish, and so would its resources. I do feel bad for these driven medical students whose honest wishes are to save people's lives. They say they feel helpless, and that they are frustrated for not being able to use their pocket money to run diagnostic smears and x-rays and refer for treatments at the hospital. I think I would feel the same way if I was actually in the clinical units. Only because I see the overall outcome of the clinic and its progress over the course of its existence (as part of my job) am I able to see that its system does work, and that it has saved the lives of numerous individuals who would have otherwise been lost. I am very much at awe of how self-sustainable (which is typically the main problem many locally run non-government recognized non-profits face) the clinic is, and how well educated the medics and staff are (mind you, they are all taught at the clinic and its affiliates). Dr. Cynthia is truly my hero, and I am honored to be working with her on a daily basis.
So some fun things:
Yesterday was my 26th birthday, and my wonderful friends here (a diverse menagerie of Americans, Brits, Canadian and New Zealander) threw me a party. Annie and Ilana did a relay of cooking in the afternoon, frying tortilla chips and making grilled cheese sandwitches and tomato soup from scratch. Caroline made delicious fruit salad and brought the highlight of the drink selection we had; the "Mc Hammer" whiskey. The table was decorated with candles and flowers, and they got me a cake with two cats (signifying my Tiki and Tembo that I miss so incredibly) on it that actually said "Happy Birthday Yumi" and other cute decorated small cakes that were so tastey. Seriously, this was one of the bestest birthdays I have ever had. We played music on guitar, sang along, and hung out while it continued raining outside. It was a cozy night of good company and good food, laughs and discussions, and I am so lucky and fortunate to have these friends who love me and care for me in this tiny town of Mae Sot.
*******************************************************
Last weekend, a whole bunch of us (mostly the folks I mentioned in my birthday story) took a motorbike to Taksin Maharat National Park. Andy found a little cabin that we could stay, so we decided to give mortorbikes a try. The most of the drivers were new at this skill, so the passangers (including myself) was difinately skepitacle of actually making it to the park without dying, since we all knew that the road to the park is windy mountainous road that are often cruised by large overloaded trucks that ignored the trafic lanes(remember the government minivan trip I mentioned before...). But the weather held up (until right before we reached the park) and the ride was actually very nice and beautiful although yes, two folks had flat tires, and yes, we almost ran out of gas, and Ilana and I went passed the actual park and had to make our way back uphill, in the rain and the wind, through motorvehicle accidents, and nearly gotten run over by two cars and almost flipped ourselves over into the ditch. HA HA HA. No joke. Not funny.
We ended up renting a larger cottage shared with 12 (?) of us unlike the original plan of staying in the two smaller units. It overlooked the beautiful hills of the park, and the fog came rolling in and out like my beloved San Francisco. Anyway, after lunching on a plate of spicey pork rice, we went on a hike which I absolutely loved. It was very much an authentic jungle hike, some on the paved road but mostly in the wet trails that required some bush whacking and trail blazing. All through the hike you could hear the loud cries of cicadas, and exotic birds poked their heads out from time to time. Misty wind blew through the valley and it just felt really refreshing. We first went to the "Big Tree" that the park prides itself on, and to the water fall where some of us went wading. BUT this is where the nightmare (particularly for Ilana) officially began. The LEECHES. I mean, they were EVERYWHERE. If you stood still for even for 5 seconds, they were literally all over your feet, up your legs, sucking blood out of you. The survival of the fittest at its best, and we were not the fittest. Obviously none of us enjoyed this, but most of us pulled ourselves together and decided to hike out of the jungle as soon as possible. Ilana, bless her heart, was ABSOLUTELY HORRIFIED. I kept hearing screams in the back (because I decided to lead the pack) time and again, and we took turns ripping the little creatures off of her feet because she could not touch them. Finally when we were few kilos from the trailhead, she says I can't take it anymore, and takes off, running full speed through steep uphill like a wind. Later I recommended her that she should join a cross-country team, and have her teammates place leeches on her feet.
Nonetheless, we all got back to the cabin safely, got washed up - Caroline's feet were completely covered in blood regardless of her socks and sneakers - and had a great evening of card playing and feasting in the stormy jungle weather. The planning of the trip home was rather stressful, because the weather was crappy when we got up, and one of the drivers test drove the bike and skidded and fell, scraping his arm. But we worked things out, and the one bike and myself along with three other girls were driven out of the park by the truck all the way to Mae Sot, and the rest actually drove the bike without any incidents, except for Andy's bike whose transmission blew just outside of Mae Sot, and had to flag down a nice trucker who brought him back to town.
We were all exhausted by the time we got back, but I trully enjoyed being out in the wild, taking a break from the daily life of Mae Sot.
We also started taking Burmese lessons! We will give you a report on that in the near future. I love it. My favorite phrase is:
"Twey yadda wanta ba deh" which means "I'm glad to meet you!" :D
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