Goodbye Bangkok

My last two nights in Bangkok were experiences on opposite sides of the infinite spectrum of those to be had in the City of Angels. In my mind, these two nights summed up my experiences and opinions of the crazy place I’ve called home for the last eight months.

On Friday, the girls from work took me out to see a bar run by a former Communist politician with house bands that play so-called “Thai Cock Rock.” I was looking forward to seeing a live band – especially with the promise that they didn’t play the usual blend of Thai pop rock. As the only white people in the place, everyone turned to watch as we walked in and sat down. According to Thai drinking customs, we ordered a bottle of whiskey and mixers. The bottle comes with a graduated sticker down the side – if you don’t finish your bottle, you write your name on it and get assigned a card with a number on it so that you can claim your bottle the next time you are back at the bar! It also comes with a server that hovers around your table, ready to top up your glass as soon as it drops below half full. This made it virtually impossible to gage how many drinks you’ve actually had! When the band finally took the stage, they convincingly looked like cock rockers. But unfortunately, they played the same not-so-exciting Thai pop rock that is every where else, with some extra guitar solos. The girls had a great time dancing (exciting the Thai men way more than they were aware) and I had a great time representing the Maple Leaf with my Canadian colleague, drinking way more than anyone else, and soaking it all in.

My last night was virtually the opposite. It was Loy Krathong, a festival where Thais float beautiful offerings made of banana leaves, flowers, incense, candles and money, apologizing for their sins and asking for good luck in the next year. Walking around the lake at Chatuchak Park, the city seemed so calm and beautiful. This was the beauty I first found wandering around Wat Po, but that is so easily forgotten when getting lost in a taxi and not being able to communicate, or getting out of breath walking up a flight of steps, or being constantly stared at by people in my own neighborhood. It was a perfect way to end my time there and reconciled me with the City of Angels.

In my darkest moments, I couldn’t wait to get out of Bangkok – the noisy, polluted city that I just didn’t click with. But in the end, I found myself not wanting to say goodbye… not so much to the city, but to the people I met, the immensely rewarding job I was blessed with, and moments of history in the Burma movement that I witnessed and in which I participated.

Saffron Revolution... last update from the frontlines

It’s been strange returning to my work for Burma after being submersed in everything Tibetan for two weeks. And like the last time I took some time off work, I missed a lot of exciting news.

While I was away, I received an e-mail from my friend who had been detained in Rangoon, and thankfully released. He couldn’t write much about his experiences, but he said that he is okay. For the last 2 weeks I have been compiling a list of all the people who have been detained or killed since the protests began in August. It made my work a little easier knowing that some of those released are okay, despite being seriously shaken up. However, being aware of the horrible detention conditions, I know that my friend’s definition of “okay” is very different from my own. Nothing about being detained for expressing a peaceful political opinion is “okay”, let alone the inhumane treatment of men, women, children and monks in detention centers around the country. The Burmese people’s bravery to continue the struggle for democracy and human rights is an inspiration.

The Telegraph recently published a great article about the monks and activists inside Burma, who have not given up on their Saffron Revolution, but who are regrouping and planning the next protests. There have been stories that people have been hanging pictures of junta leader Than Shwe on street dogs – a serious dishonor to the general… and to the dogs!! People have been handing out political leaflets at markets, and painting anti-junta statements on trains. And on October 31st, 200 monks protested again in Pakokku. They have not given up!

Two UN envoys have visited Burma to gather information on the crackdown and to promote genuine negotiations between the SPDC and Aung San Suu Kyi. My colleagues are cautiously optimistic – this is a step in the right direction, however the junta is not to be trusted. This could all be a face saving effort. The junta is definitely still spewing out the same fantastically horrible propaganda on Aung San Suu Kyi, the NLD party, meddling external agitators and “big countries”. For anyone with a cynical sense of humour, I highly recommend the state-run newspaper, the New Light of Myanmar, for a good laugh at the junta’s ridiculous propaganda. It has become a good source of entertainment here at my office.

For all the Canadians reading this:
Today, our government imposed complete sanctions on Burma (the only exception being humanitarian aid). While our country’s trade with Burma is quite small it is a perfect gesture. The more countries do this, the more crippled the junta will be, and the quicker change will come to Burma. Today, I am very proud to be Canadian – more than usual, of course!

Knowing that so much is happening in Burma – and that so much more is bound to happen in the near future – makes it hard for me to leave at this point in time. Part of me will miss this work very much. It’s been a fantastic opportunity for me to strengthen my skills, and an immense source of inspiration that change is possible… and right in front of us all!

Finally... Dharamsala

I decided to splurge and go to Dharamsala for a Tibet activist training camp in the last couple of weeks. Dharamsala is a place that I have been dreaming about visiting for over 7 years. This was the perfect opportunity to finally see it, meet up with everyone I worked with before I left Canada, make new connections in the movement, and prepare myself for the work that awaits me back at home.

I spent my first day in India wandering around the Red Fort in Delhi, literally breaking into huge grins every so often because I was finally there. That feeling was magnified a million times over when I arrived in Dharamsala. It was a completely new town to me and yet seemed so familiar. Arriving there felt like coming home.

The first week I was in the area I spent at the SFT India camp, on a beautiful farm owned by a very generous Indian family. I had attended many of the workshops at previous camps in Canada (and co-facilitated some too), but my time spent working on Burma issues made me see the movement in a much different light. Problems and strengths were much more apparent. But most of all, I was reminded of the endless passion activists have once they get hooked on the Tibet issue – this is exactly the feeling that brought me back to the movement!

After the camp, I got to meet up with Dekey, a friend from home who had moved to McLeod Ganj in May. One of her friends took me around on his motorbike to all the sights… which I had heard of in tons of stories from friends at home who either grew up or lived in the town. And just like everyone said would happen, I totally fell in love with the place. My first time walking through town, I stopped to say ‘hi’ to 6 different people I knew! I finally got to go to a Tibetan temple and spin prayer wheels, eat at all the restaurants I’d heard of and see a concert at TIPA. I was also fortunate enough to be in town when His Holiness arrived from his most recent travels. The entire town lined the streets in their best chubas to welcome Kundun home and congratulate him on receiving the US Congressional Gold Medal. As always, seeing His Holiness is an emotional experience, and I was grateful to be an inji squashed between old amalas, palas and monks as they prayed for him and for us all.

One of the key issues in Tibet is the threat of cultural destruction. As I walked around Dharamsala, I was impressed that the culture seemed so alive and vibrant. I know that there are a lot of people devoting their lives to preserve Tibetan music, art, and religion, but I had no idea that Dharamsala would feel so “Tibetan”. At the same time, seeing the Tibetan flag blowing in the wind made me sad, knowing that across the mountains it has not been seen for over 50 years. When we ended the SFT camp, we took a moment to close our eyes and imagine what a free Tibet would look like and what it would feel like. To me, Dharamsala is the seed of what an independent Tibet would feel like. I imagined people surrounding the Potala Palace to welcome the Dalai Lama home, with the Tibetan flag flying proudly on every flag pole. I imagined the market in Lhasa full of pictures of the Dalai Lama and the real Panchen Lama. I imagined monks and laypeople debating politics openly in public. I looked around at my Tibetan friends singing their national anthem, and I imagined them singing it in Tibet at the top of their lungs!

Tibet will be free. We have passion and truth on our side, and we will never give up!