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After Nine Years Have Passed



Dear ALL:

I would like to dedicate this article to all children inside Burma and
the children who are trapped in the border refugee camps, whose innocent
lives are victimized by their parents' struggle for peace, liberty, and
justice.  I then also would like to extend my dedication to all the
children of the world sharing the same suffering Burmese children have.

Tun Myint


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                "After Nine Years Have Passed..."
                 -------------------------------

I have been now nine years away from home without being in contact either
in letters or by phone with my family, friends, relatives, and my Burmese
daily activities. I know I am not alone in this category.  In fact there
are many Burmese people who live under much more unimaginably difficult
circumstances than I am at present.  Many people here in the United States
whom I meet and let hear my story usually comment "Oh God!" and add the
question "you must be strong?"  I usually reply "my life teaches me to be
that way." Last August when I visited some of my fellow refugee students
in the "safe area" in Ratchaburi, Thailand, life again gave me a lesson of
strength.

Last August, I went to Thailand for a project associated with the desire
of some of my fellow American students to help my country, Burma, become
free. I must admit that without the generosity and commitment of American
students we would not have a single Free Burma Coalition chapter on
American university campuses.  Now on this trip, there were three
American students with me who decided to spend their summer helping
Burmese refugees on the Thai-Burma border at least by visiting the
refugees and offering their words of support.  I am sure these three
American students have gained extraordinary experiences during their
meeting and talking with refugees. At least, I assume that they now know
how valuable the "liberty" of Americans that they take for granted at home
in the United States is. In Burma, people are still struggling for that
kind of liberty.

For those who do not know what the "safe area" is, let me interrupt
myself and explain before I continue talking about the trip. The "safe
area" is a semi-prison-like camp for Burmese refugees set up in 1992
by Thai authorities. The reason that the Thai government set up this
safe area was to keep Burmese students under their watchful gaze so that
students could not do any more anti-SLORC activities in Bangkok, such as
demonstrating in front of the Burmese embassy in Bangkok or operating
offices in Bangkok to launch anti-SLORC activities. I lived in the safe
area about one and half months before I came to the United States in
1993 as a scholarship student selected by the USIA (United States
Information Agency)  Burmese Refugee Scholarship Program.

During my trip to Thailand in August, I visited this "safe area" with my
American friends. It took about 3 hours by car from Bangkok to get to the
safe area.  We left our motel in Bangkok around 10:00 a.m and arrived
there around 1:30 p.m. When we got to the camp, the guard told us that we
were not allowed to enter the camp.  I then asked the guard to let my
friends in the camp know that I was visiting them.  The guard at least
agreed to inform my friends.  We waited by a nearby Thai-owned grocery
shop which must have been there for both refugees in the camp and for
those Thai villagers in nearby villages. Five or so minutes later, a bunch
of my friends with whom I had lived in various mobile student camps on the
border during 1988 to 1990, came out with wonder in their eyes ,asking who
the guy might be that told the guard he was their friend.  Pleasant smiles
and excited loud voices, calling out my name -- as is Burmese custom when
we suddenly meet our long-time friends -- made me feel something that I
could not describe in words here.  They came quickly toward me and I
stepped quickly toward them and we put one of our arms on each others'
shoulders. This is a Burmese way of hugging, I might say, because it is
different from western style of hugging I would do with American friends.
We don't hug with chest to chest in Burma but with shoulder to shoulder,
standing parallel while one of our arms crosses on the other's shoulder
across the neck.

One of my friends, who is three years younger than I, had a very young
baby on his hip.  He is just as old as my youngest brother. The baby had
smart-looking cute eyes and was looking at me with a full smile.  The baby
looked like he wanted to say something to me.  I asked my friend "Is this
baby your child?" He replied, with a smile, "yes." At this moment,
indescribable feelings struck me and I felt I was not sure what to say to
him -- "congratulations" or what!.  How could the future of his child lie
ahead of them?  How could it affect the future of my country if there are
many refugee students (many have been married and have lived in various
refugee camps for nine years and many children are born as a result of a
human factor) who happened to be like my friend?  I immediately stopped
all these worrisome thoughts and smiled at both the father and child and
picked the baby up onto my chest.  At the same time I asked the baby's
name.  My friend told me it was "Arr Kar."  I like the name.  The name
"Arr Kar"  means "sky" or "space."  The baby is a male and he was sitting
very comfortably on my chest. All of my friends at this point invited me
to visit their barracks.  I told them that the guard would not allow us to
get into the camp.  They then told me that they have a secret back-door
into the camp and suggested that I could get into the camp and look
around.  I wanted to get into the camp and thus I agreed to go there
through the secret back-door as they suggested.

Finally my American friends and I got into the camp from the back-door.  I
was holding a small video camera in my hand.  My friends told me that I
would not be able to shoot video if the guards see me.  I then asked one
of my friends to bring the video camera in his bag. Inside the camp, I
first shot around the camp and my friends explained about the purposes of
each barracks.  Some barracks are for families and some are for singles.
They have to make rooms by using blankets and old mats as walls to
separate one family from another. At one point, I reached an empty wooden
building which has some benches and tables.  It looked like a class room.
One of my friends explained the history of that building.  It was a school
building for children in the camp. According to three school teachers
there are 170 children, ranging in age from three to thirteen years old. I
then asked my friends if I could interview school teachers and children. A
moment later, one of my friends invited some teachers and children.  I
interviewed and video-taped them.

I interviewed about three teachers and seven children - mostly girls -
between five and thirteen years old.  All of these children have great
ambitions and they all demonstrated for me their impressive skills in
mathematics and English. I could not stop myself from admiring these
teachers at the school for being able to teach students without text
books, school materials and any desirable aids from camp authorities. They
have no teaching guides and no formal textbooks but they teach kids with
remaining knowledge, even after their memories having been affected by
malaria in the jungle, that they had learned in schools and universities
in Burma before they left in 1988. After talking to teachers, I talked to
children.  I asked them to talk about their experiences.  All of them
cutely and eagerly spoke with both genuine wit and wisdom.  One of the
girls eagerly told me that she wanted to be a teacher.  Some wanted to be
medical doctors and some wanted to be engineers.

Among all the children I talked to, there was an eleven year old girl
whose story broke my heart. She told me her story with a very soft voice.
She started by saying that she lived in the safe area alone.  Her mother
passed away four months ago from a heart-attack while her father was
imprisoned in jail in Mae Sot.  Students in the camp serve as big brothers
to her and she is everyone's favorite and receives the greatest care and
love from everyone. When she was talking about her mother's death and the
arrest of her father by Thai police in Mae Sot, her eyes became filled-up
with tears. Her very innocent-sad face and soft voice immediately struck
my already tendered heart. While this eleven year old girl is now living
alone in the camp, her father is still in Mae Sot jail.  It was one of the
most striking moments in my life while I was talking to those teachers and
students.

I stayed a moment in breathless silence.

My interviews with school teachers and children in the camp ended with
this girl's story.  All of my friends, some of whom have been living since
the camp was established in 1992, told me various stories.  The great
human suffering under the political conflicts in Burma continue throughout
most of its history.  I remembered my high school book which quoted
Bogyoke Aung San's meaning of history that history is a subject which is
not just telling us about the past but guiding us to create an epic
history of our own in the future. When are we, Burmese, going to learn the
lesson of history? 

I stopped my reflections about history and human life here and continued
my journey to videotape the condition of the camp.  I then went around the
camp to meet people who are suffering from illness.  They told me how the
camp authorities have been treating people who are ill.  My impression is
that the camp is much worse than three years ago when I was there. After I
finished video-taping around the camp, Arr Kar's father invited me to
visit their room in the family barracks. I was very excited to meet his
wife whom I had never met before. 

I met my friend's wife nearby their barracks.  She looked very young and
possessed a face of clarity with generous eyes and natural beauty. She was
very friendly and smiled at me to show her welcoming hospitality. In fact,
she and her husband resemble each other. She again invited me to visit
their room.  Arr Kar got out off his father's chest as soon as we sat down
on the floor.  In their tiny room walled with used mats, Arr Kar made his
own space to play. The room is too small for a one year old child to play. 
I watched Arr Kar's movements and talked at the same time to his parents. 
All they worried about was Arr Kar's future. At the same time, we chatted
and expressed each other about our share of worry about the future of our
country.  After we talked about an hour, I said good-bye to them. 

I continue my thoughts about my nine year journey and the political
conflicts that are lingering in my country.  My trip to the camp was very
sobering.  I saw suffering which gets worse daily.  I am very sad to think
that beyond all political maneuvering in my country is the constant
suffering of people. We, concerned Burmese and leaders from both sides,
need to see this very clearly as our immediate priority.  After recent
moves by SLORC and NLD regarding the badly needed "talk"  between two
sides, and rigidity of the condition imposed by NLD, I am very concerned
that the good leaders of Burma may have lost sight of those suffering
Burmese people. It is beyond question that SLORC has been taking rigid
positions in defending their power. We, the opposition, must be wise
enough to seek any opportunity that would create an embryo stage to bring
to bear a badly needed future for Burmese children and the country. 

Tun Myint


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(c) All Rights reserved by Tun Myint
    September 27, 1997