And there is still 7-11

Yes, you read correctly. Out in the middle of nowhere Thailand, 5km from the border of nowhere, Burma, there is 7-11 - several of them, to be correct. Large fridges of Coke, chocolate milk, Gatorade. Rows of gum, Chinese chips, Thai candy, and packages of fried seaweed. A supermarket down the street akin to a small WalMart, called "HongLong Mini Mart", where one can buy such essentials as Pantene Pro-V Shampoo, Kellog's Corn Flakes, and ranch dressing.

Mae Sot is far bigger than I first thought. Probably because my first experience in it involved getting lost in the dark of some deserted little neighborhood of teak houses with no lights, scary dogs, not a soul who spoke a word of English around, a random crazy lady who grabbed my arm with slimy fish hands and refused to let go. So crazy girl and I walked together.

Mae Sot is a diverse little trading town (specializing in gems and black market goods to Burma) of Burmese, Thai, Indian, Chinese and Karen. It is certainly an interesting ethnic mix - Burmese men in long sarongs tied in front; Muslim women zipping by on motos, narrow slits in her veil revealing only her eyes; young Thai army rangers with guns slung over slim shoulders; Karen mothers and children with painted white faces in traditional hill-tribe dress. Completely different than Chiang Mai - more grime, less beauty, more haphazard-feeling, less Western, more mysterious, less English, more stares. Oh yes. We are back to staring at the white girl. But... I like it here. It feels more... authentic somehow, even in its grittiness.

I think I will stay. There is an extensive network of NGOs that do aid work in the camps (though the NGO world is tough to break into, from what I've found), so the job prospects are better here. A few such prospects are looking promising - I'm realizing just how much "right place, right time" is worth. A lot.

I went running last night with a new friend down this hazy dirt path at the foot of the mountains. "Watch out for snakes", he told me with a smirk. Weaving between the rice fields in the muggy heat as the sun painted magnificent streaks of pink across the clouds, I realized how lucky I am. I love running out here - it evokes feeling of such freedom and life.

I went to the border of Burma the other day. Saw the Thai-Myanmar Friendship Bridge - an ironic name considering that Thailand and Myanmar aren't friends at all. Thailand doesn't want to deal with the effects of a neighboring military regime that persecutes its own people, leaving them displaced and forced to flee for their lives. With the promise of Thailand - and relative safety - just across the bridge, some brave Karen, Karenni and Shan attempt escape. The lucky make it across. The less fortunate are shot down by Burmese military before they can reach the other side. I wanted to take a picture of Burma, so you could have some image of where I am as you read, but as I furtively tired to whip out my camera, a kid in a uniform with a gun said "no". I put the camera away.

A little Indian restaurant across from the mosque makes the best samosas I have ever had - served with the requisite Thai chilis of course. Food has been a bit more problematic here than in Chiang Mai. Everything is written in Thai or Chinese and no one speaks enough English to offer a translation. Lucky for me "noodles" appears to be quite universal, so I haven't starved. And there is still Diet Coke. So there's that...

Heading off in a few moments to visit a refugee camp with a local NGO. Promises to be an interesting day!