Sunday in Mae Sot

I still haven't found a house. I had been staying in a little room in a cute guesthouse until yesterday. It wasn't exactly the Chamber of Commerce poster accommodation perhaps, with it's location behind the police station, in front of the bus station, next door to scary dogs (I still have a scar from the biting event, by the way), and across the street from a prison for the poor undocumented Burmese who were unlucky enough to get caught. The Thai police hold them in Bangkok and elsewhere and bring them to Mae Sot as the last stop before the weekly deportations back to Burma every Wednesday. It's outrageous, really, considering most are refugees fleeing persecution and death from the SPDC in Burma and the Thai government sends them right back over. But back to not having a house. So, I still don't. A friend asked me to cat/house sit for her for awhile, so I've moved to her house - which has turned out to be halfway to Cambodia - or at least that's how it felt last night as I walked the 45 minutes into Mae Sot. It's all fine - I have a bike - until night-time when all the dogs come out. I'm a little scared, I'm not going to lie. There are perks to this plan, though. My friend has a TV and well-stocked DVD collection, and a coffee maker. Really, a few mean dogs can't compare to being able to make my very own coffee on demand.

Work is rather incredible. I feel so lucky to be here, doing this. I travel to the one of the three refugee camps our field office serves a few times a week to interview families and piece together their stories, then recommend what should happen to the foster children. The UN has little "offices" set up in each camp - bamboo structures with thatched roofs, lizards, a long table, and a stack of plastic lawn chairs. It is rather surreal to be in the camps and to observe the strange normalcy of the lives there. Someone plays the guitar nearby, and kids are having a soccer game right outside - their shrieks and cheers pierce through the air every so often. Cars zoom by on the interstate that runs right beside the gates of Mae La camp - serving as an ironic reminder of life continuing right beside the stagnated existences of the 45,000 inhabitants within. I sit with a family and try to understand their history - I've quickly discovered there are no easy, nor right, answers. Ultimately I must recommend a course of action - should the child stay with his foster family and resettle with them to Norway? His parents may or may not still be alive in Burma somewhere - no one has received word from them in 5 years. Do we risk permanent separation from them by sending him to Norway or do we deny him the right to be with the only family he has ever known and leave him in the refugee camp on the hope that someday his parents will return for him? It's rather intense work with long-lasting consequences for all involved. I love it though. There is still so much I have to learn...

Thai lessons are... going. I wish I could say "well", but, considering that people either laugh at me or just look really confused whenever I try to say anything, "well" is probably not the descriptor of choice. I can say some things, like "Today, I went to the farm and saw 2 cows." I can order rice, noodles, chicken and lattes. I can tell moto drivers to slow down. The tonal nature of Thai continues to completely floor me. Like to say "near" you say graie but to say "far", it is... graie. Ha! A tonal difference that I can't even HEAR - let alone SAY - is all that distinguishes one from the other. And I refuse to even attempt to say "banana" because, a tiny little tone difference changes it to, um, "penis". I am certainly NOT risking going to the market and inquiring about the wrong one!

Alright, off to find lunch food. I don't think I mentioned, but the bike I am riding is an absolute piece of junk, but as I am currently residing in CAMBODIA its use is necessary. It was made for a 10-year-old, for starters, circa 1982. Then, the pedals - or something - jerk everytime I turn them. The brakes don't really work - but this isn't of huge concern as I'm nearly sitting on the ground, so stopping shouldn't be a problem. Today, the ride is complicated by the fact that I am in a skirt - I'm not used to biking, ok! - so I can only ride with one hand on the handlebars while the other attempts to keep from flashing all of Mae Sot. It will be a miracle if I make it home in one piece...