Weird Week

Okay, so these past few days didn't go quite as planned. This week absolutely flew by, and what have I accomplished?

Well, I went to Burma, for one. This was not quite the trip that I had hoped for. Tachileik is not a place that anyone should ever aspire to visit. Ever. I needed to cross a border, or my Thai visa would expire, and so I figured I'd make like everybody else in Chiang Mai, and hop a VIP bus to Mae Sai, and cross the border to Tachileik, which is less than four hours away.

I figured I would be gone for about nine hours, so I packed a backpack with some water, snacks, a rain coat, a book, my camera, iPod, etc.

During all of this well thought-out preparation, I neglected to pack my passport, which, of course, was the only item necessary for a successful trip across the border. Whoops.

Luckily, all of this hit me like a ton of bricks about 10 minutes before my 8am VIP bus was scheduled to leave Chiang Mai (and VIP it was! Fully reclining leather seats, water and snack service, and plenty of room). I booked it home, grabbed my documents, booked it back to the bus station, and managed to get a seat on the 9:30 bus, which was decidedly un-VIP.

12 stops and 5 hours later, I was in Mae Sai, the Thai border town. Mae Sai is nothing too remarkable: one wide, well-paved street, some cool-looking shops, a big wat, a typical Thai market, and pictures of the King. A short motorbike taxi ride, and I was there, at the border with the "Union of Myanmar." I couldn't wait to get across, hand over my passport, and be issued a Myanmar ID card. How cool is that?!

The Myanmar immigration office was by far my favorite part of the whole country, if only because of its apparently deliberate attempts to assert its country's unique identity. In the corner were two clocks, one labeled "Thailand," and one labeled "Myanmar." The "Myanmar" clock was defiantly set one half-hour behind. On the opposite side of the room from the dueling clocks, there was a framed picture of Than Shwe, which looked like somebody just photoshopped one of Thailand's ubiquitous framed photos of the King. The immigration officers were nice, but stern. I wanted to thank them in Thai, but thought that would probably be rude. I was mildly worried that I would never see my passport again.

Things literally went downhill from there. I exited immigration and crossed over the Mae Sai river, which was seriously flooded. Half of the town's market, which is locally infamous for its cheap DVD's and knockoff everything, was either under water or covered in four feet of thick, rank mud. I'd never actually seen a major flood in person before, and it's pretty surreal to see a two-storey restaurant operating only out of its top floor.

Immediately, I made a friend who wanted to sell me Viagra. "No, thanks." He didn't get it. I tried in Thai. "I don't need that - I'm capable; phom gang khrap." What about some Chinese-rolled "Marlboros?" No? How about some heroin? I have porn, you like little girls? [Taking me by the hand] Why don't you come meet my daughter; she would think you are very handsome. Come, shop in this market, we have very nice things. You want lady? You want lady? You want lady?

This guy followed me for a quarter of a mile. I wanted to push him and scream, but I figured that the last thing I wanted was a trumped-up assault charge.

Josh, my boss, is big into experiential education literature - CMRCA uses it for all of our student group programs (like the one tomorrow!). There is a pretty popular model that we refer to as growth zones. The idea is that, when you are comfortable and everything is familiar, you aren't learning much about yourself or the world. Then, with increasing discomfort comes increased growth, learning, and understanding - to a point. At some point, things become so uncomfortable that you enter your panic zone, and effectively shut down.

It was at this point that I entered my panic zone, and stayed there for the rest of my time in Burma. This isn't to say that I had a panic attack, broke down, and cried (which I didn't!), but I was so uncomfortable and unhappy that all I wanted to do was leave, and I was unable to really experience or enjoy anything. I was unable to trust anyone, and was even paranoid about the government. I forgot to take any pictures, and even when I remembered, I was afraid, and thought that I "probably wasn't allowed."

I finally lost my first suitor, and wandered over to a little watch shop, where nobody paid me any attention (thank God). I was looking idly at digital watches when I guy came up and started speaking to me in perfect American English. We actually had a pretty pleasant conversation, although it was clear the whole time that he wanted to take me sightseeing or to his favorite shops, and I was having none of it. He was a nice guy, but his kind smile betrayed his betel-stained teeth, and his T-shirt betrayed his track marks. I nicely explained to him that I wouldn't be staying in Burma for long, thanked him for his help, and wandered on alone.

I bought some sunglasses from a guy, and paid too much for them, because I figured Ray-Bans would make me feel better, and I just wasn't in the mood to haggle over sixty cents. Plus, as he pointed out, they have real glass lenses.

The rest of my time there (about 15 more minutes) was a blur of the same cheap stuff being hawked at me over and over again. Strangely, a popular item was a pack of U.S. Most Wanted playing cards, with Sadam Hussein on the ace of spades. One little girl offered a pack for "100 Baht!" No, thanks. "Okay, 50 Baht!" Really, I just don't want them. "10 Baht!" Umm, no.

I walked back to the border (I figured 30 minutes was long enough for them to process me, and I wanted to catch my original VIP bus back home), past a gaggle of Viagra dealers and begging, starving children. I handed in my Burma ID card (and instantly regretted not photographing it), and was relieved to get back my passport, complete with a Tachileik stamp.

I can honestly say that I have never been so happy to be anywhere in my life as I was to be back in Thailand. Seeing the huge picture of the King in the Mae Sai town square made my heart overflow with warmth, and as I snuggled up behind my motorbike taxi driver and looked around at the totally average markets and stores and read a few signs in the now-familiar script, I was proud to call Thailand home.

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In other news, I'm going to a wedding this weekend: Kwang, a guide at CMRCA, is getting married. I'm really really excited. I promise to take lots of photos and write about that one soon.

Also, I finally got around to posting pictures of my apartment. These photos are predictably boring. I did my best. I was just going to take photos of my motorbike, too, but after reading Max's post, I figured that [insert your clever name here!] deserved better, so I'm going to hold off until I take [him/her] someplace a little more scenic. No, my bike does not quite look like Max's.

I love and miss you all. Thanks for reading!