pillowfights and tug-of-war

Shan girl watching the tug of war matches


Shan boy wearing traditional dress.
His oversized shoes were given to him
by our relief team.


I went last week for four days to Shan State, northern Burma, both to deliver supplies and gather information, and also to attend the Shan National Holiday celebrations. Leaving my lovely wife at home, our team travelled 3 hours north over some of the most vomit inducing roads imaginable, (think James Bond style curves, plus potholes and random livestock roaming the hairpin turns). I was then the lucky recipient of a 3 hour off road trip to the camp in the back of the pickup. Not the most fun, let me tell you. I think that my kidneys will never forgive me for the beating they took on the side of the truck. Sitting in the back of the truck with our videographer, all our luggage, our guide (who was drinking a strange amber liquid from an old bottle) and a pair of Shan people plus their dog, I had a bit of time to reconsider what exactly I was doing in that situation. That is when I had time in between the vomiting fits. I guess I cant really complain though, since this is what I volunteered for. The "official" reason for the trip was to escort some film makers and to help them in any way I could, and also to help our team leader to bring much needed clothes and supplies to the IDP's living there. The real reason I went though was to see one of the most forgotten people groups in the world. The Shan are just as abused by the Burmese as the Karen are, but are not even allowed refugee status in Thailand. Their culture is being destroyed by the Burmese, who will not allow the Shan language to be taught in school, force Shan monks to leave and installing Burmese monks, as well as the usual rape and pillage life of the Burma Army. It is said that 80 percent of women have been raped or witnessed someone else raped, and women are routinely used as sex slaves, being sold into Thailand and to China. Plus, Shan state is where the Burma Army and its proxies produce vast amounts of opium and anphetamines for the western markets.
We were able to distribute Christmas presents (a bit late, I know) and clothes to almost 400 kids, plus provide a bunch of other stuff to the village leaders. I guess the highlight of the week though was the National Day celebrations, consisting of games, a concert, and each ethnic group presenting its national dance. I got to join with some of the soldiers for tug of war, which we won, and also sort of pugilist game, where two combatants sit on top of a 8 inch thick piece of bamboo, resembling those stupid balance beams we all had to use in gym class. The idea is to take a sack filled with rice husks and knock the other guy off. I was invited by our driver to fight against him, so, not being one to say no to humilition, decided to try. The first round we both went over pretty quick, but the second round I drilled him square in the head, knocking him off pretty hard. The bad part is, he seriously injured his left arm (the one he shifts with) in the fall. So now I have gone and almost broken the arm of the commanders driver, and to make matters worse, he still had to drive us down from the village the next day, using only one arm to drive and shift, a hard enough proposition on nice roads, terribly difficult on 4WD tracks. A couple of beers to massage his shattered ego seemed to do the trick though, and everything turned out OK in the end. All in all it was a great trip, next time though I think I will make sure to take some Dramamine with me for the ride!