Esma's birthday, in Yangon

For her 28th birthday Esma, the first grade teacher, threw a party at the school. She invited some other female teachers, me, and her regular year-round students. Summer school students were from well-off families. Families who cared about English and had the money to pay the exhorbitant summer school fees, but not enough for the whole year. The students at Esma's party were her year-round Grade 5 class.

They were all cheerful kids who clearly liked Esma very much, and she said she wanted to have a party for them because she loved them and missed them too.

They all looked well-fed, some of them much too well-fed. Their English was almost perfect. Even their accents were almost perfect—almost American.

After the BBQ Esma broke the kids into teams and sent them all on a scavenger hunt. After 15 minutes a group of boys came running back to her waving a bag of chips.

“Teacher, this is the treaure?! We all share this? Teacher it wasn't worth looking for!”

“Wow,” she said to the adults, “when we played that game with the summer school kids no one complained about the prize.”

After that it was time for cake. She had two made up, a toffee and a strawberry, with “Happy Birthday T. Esma” written on both. The children ate a little before they began chasing each other around the soccer field with chunks of cake, trying to smear it on each other's faces. I think maybe it's traditional.

“It's disgusting,” said Esma. By the time their parents came to pick them up the sun was setting, the temperature was finally almost tolerable. There was a telling mess scattered around the lawn for the teachers to clean up. Whole slices of birthday cake, paper serving plates empty but for the untouched vegetables, an unopened bag of potato chips.

Thingyan Waterfest in Rangoon

Young people rented pick-up trucks and lorries, and drove around all day dancing, drinking whiskey and getting soaked. Some of the pandals were equipped with fire hoses. Some people used pressure washers to spray, some had buckets of ice water. Little kids waited on street corners with water guns, babies had cups of water poured down their backs, and dogs stood in the spray smiling. 

The only ones who didn't get splashed were monks and authorities, though Liz siad she saw one soaked monk, and she personally reached into the passenger window of a taxi and dumped a bucket of water into a soldier's lap before noticing he was a soldier. Even if you begged, there was no way to escape having water tossed on you.

The April bombing in Yangon

The government says 10 people died and about 80 were injured by three bombs during waterfest. But the wooden dance stage wasn't damaged. The Emerys sent me an article from The Irawaddy magazine saying three journalists were arrested for taking photos of the bomb site, but the magazine also said it didn't actually know what three people were arrested for there, only that there was a rumour it was because they were photo journalists, which it also didn't say if they were actually known to be. I couldn't even find the bomb site, and there certainly wasn't any police barrier around any site that might be under investigation.

The newspaper didn't say who the people killed were, except that they were security forces, and that the bombing was aimed at a general's grandson, but I don't know if he was there. They said it was done by insurgent terrorists, though it didn't name the insurgent group or offer any suggestions on which one. The party seemed just as raucous before the bomb as after.

International media, such as the BBC, did offer suggestions, one of which was the Karen National Army. However, every international news story I saw used only the official government statements about the bombs, and didn't seem to have anything else to say except that the businesses around the lake are owned by SPDC supporters, whatever that means.

Me, I saw two ambulances go down our street that afternoon, and that's all. I walked around the entire lake looking for the bomb site and couldn't find a single pandal that looked any different from the others, much less a barrier or cop gaurding over what was supposed to be an investigation site.

Bay Da on the Shan and SPDC

From an interview with 27-year-old medic Bay Da, Loi Kaw Wan, Burma, February 2010

What is Loi Kaw Wan?

Loi Kaw Wan is one of the IDP camp. People move from inside Shan State to live here. 

What year did Loi Kaw Wan begin?

Since 2000. During I am here, I didn't hear any problems around here.

We're still in Burma. Why is this place safer than further inside Shan State?

Because how to say that, we have like SSA (rebel Shan State Army) around here to protect this village.

If you're in Burma, in Shan State, how do people get to the IDP camps?

Very difficult. Walking, mostly.

Are you in the SSA?

Yes, I'm medic.

Do all the men have to be in the SSA, or they can choose?

They can choose. Not all. Depend on their mind.

Can they pay their soldiers?

No—which one?

Can the SSA pay?

Yes.

A lot of money?

No. I don't know about that. Not so much.

Do medics get paid good money?

Not so much, in the middle. 1,500 baht. (Per month. =$50)

That's enough?

Not enough.

Is there any way to make money here?

Yes, like, we have to go and pick tea leaves, in Thailand. And then sometimes we farm by ourself. Rice, pig, some rice farm.

Why do the Shan people need medics? Are there no doctors here?

No. Like inside Shan State? Most of the people there get sick, but no doctor, no health worker there. Nobody, like, very few medics.

How many medics are there here in Loi Kaw Wan now?

All of the medics here, 30. But all of them not here.

Where do they go?

Backpack inside. They go inside Shan State and look, take care of the patient inside.

Is it dangerous?

Yes, dangerous. Maybe sometime they're—I don't know, about the SPDC (the Burmese government and army). We have to be careful.

You're only giving medicine. What's wrong with that?

They don't like.

Why not?

They think that we are against them.

Are you?

Yes.

What does the SPDC want to do to the Shan?

They want, like, how to say? They want the Shan all, the Shan people, like no any, like, how to say? They want to do ethnic clean, cleansing. They want Shans to disappear.

But there are eight million Shans.

Yes. They try to control. They make us can't do anything. Like in Shan State they don't allow Shan people to study our language, like that. Like, sometime we study our language in a small village or monastery, temple.

In secret?

Yes.

So do they want you to become like the Burmese, or to disappear?

Maybe both.

How many ethnic groups are in Shan State?

Oh, about 20 ethnic. Shan, Palong, Wa, Kogank, Lahu, Akha, and Chinese. Pa'o, Kayin, many many, but I can't remember. Biggest group is Shan.

Do they want them to disappear too?

Yes, also the same. Everybody in Shan State.

Are there things in Shan State that the Burmese government wants?

Yes, things like natural resources. Wood. How to say, silver. The mines. Mining. No oil. Like gold. Diamond, yes they need a lot. Teak. They don't care about environment.

Do you want to go back to Shan State if you can?

Yes, but if the situation doesn't change it's not safe for me to go back.

What do you think could happen to you?

The SPDC they know from here, they will catch me and torture and they will kill me maybe. I don't know.

Have you seen them torture people before?

Yes.

Who?

My dad. When I was young, about eight or 10 years. They came and took my dad to be a porter and they torture him with cigarette and burn him, burn his cheek.

What did you do?

At that time I'm just children, I don't know. I can't do anything. And my mom only crying.

How long did the SPDC stay with you?

About one or two days. In my village they come from the city.

Did they tell you why?

I don't know. I can't speak their language. I don't know, I don't know. I just see. Make me sad.

Do they do this many times?

Many many times in my village.

Do you know now why they came?

I don't know.

When the SPDC comes to the Shan villages are they all soldiers, or other kinds?

All soldier.

They make you do porter work—

Yes. When I was young I used to go and build house for them.

You built their house?

Yes. Build, and dig. Dig the ground for their fighting.

But they're fighting the Shan.

Yes, but they force us to go to do for them.

So they force you to build their barracks to fight you. Are you angry?

Very angry.

You said they came when you were eight, that was almost 20 years ago. Are they doing the same thing today?

Worse than that. Like last year, they burn the house inside Shan State. They burn the village.

Have you been interviewed before?

Yes, I think two or three times.

Do you think it's helping when you tell your story?

Yes, I think it helps.

Does it make you tired, or sad though?

Yes, makes me sad but, also make me strong.

Can you still contact your family in Shan State?

Yes, by telephone. Sometimes, maybe once a year.

Why not more?

If they don't call me I cannot call them, because they are very far from the town. They come to the town and call me. Give me bad news.

What is the news they gave you this week?

I lost my nephew.

How old was he?

About four years.

How did he die?

From disease. Some disease but I don't know. They don't know. I also ask them, but they don't know.

Didn't he go to a hospital?

No, no hospital there. Just wait and see. Sometimes a little bit herbal medicine from the forest, but not help very much. I lost three younger brother and one sister and one nephew. Five of them, from different diseases.

Do you think about the election anymore?

I don't think the election will be fair. I don't think.

Do you know when it will be?

I don't know. They won't tell. I have no idea about that. Nobody knows.

Can you vote in the election?

No. Most of them, most of the Shan people that live in the small village outside the town they don't have ID, how can they vote? To get ID we have to pay a lot of money.

On Loi Kaw Wan's latest landmine victim

From an interview with Loi Kaw Wan medic Bay Da as he gives a tour of the village's medical compound. The interview begins as we leave the in-patient building, after having spoken briefly with a patient who lost both his hands in a land mine explosion several months earlier.

Tell me what happened to him. How did he lose his hands and his eye?

He went to outside. He went to inside Shan State. And the SPDC they put the mine, land mine. And then he tried to, how do you say? Check. He was looking for land mines.

Was he alone or with other people?

With other people. But only one, only him get injury. But other, they are far away from him.

He was reaching on the ground like this?

Yes, his hands gone. His hands is on the trees.

How far away, how many hours away were they from here?

About four hours.

They had to take him all the way back?

Yes. He is, like, strong. Strong mind. Not sad. Somebody when they are not really strong, when they get injury like this they can die. Depend on our mind.

So they brought him back here. Did he stay here or go to Thailand?

No, direct to Thailand. To Thoed Thai. To Thoed Thai and Thoed Thai sent him to Chiang Rai. He stay in Chiang Rai hospital for one month.

Is it free when a patient like that goes to the Thai hospital?

Not free, no. Very expensive.

Can he pay?

No, he cannot pay.

What can he do?

Our clinic takes responsibility for that. We have to sign for it.

The clinic here has to pay for his bill?

Yes. If he get money from some organization we can pay. If he don't get we just leave like that. It's difficult problem.

And he has to go to Thailand? They can't get medical help here?

Yes. Most of them. Most of the serious condition, like broken arm or mine injury.

Is he the first land mine victim, or are there other amputees here in Loi Kaw Wan?

Other. Many others. About 10.

Do they all get them the same way? Going into Burma?

Yes, the same way.