Mae Sot

Walking around the streets here is different than anywhere I’ve ever been. This is by far the most diverse place I’ve ever visited. I can plainly see that there are Thai, Burmese, Muslim, and Buddhist people, along with foreigners from various countries around the world volunteering at one of the many local NGOs. This is only what my untrained eye can see though. According to Aun, a college age immigrant form Myanmar I met yesterday, there are 7 major ethnic groups in Myanmar and 135 smaller groups within these. There are immigrants here from all of those 7 major ethnic groups and many of the subgroups. There are also Chinese and Indian immigrants as well. If there was ever a cultural melting pot Mae Sot is it.

The market is a very interesting area. All of these cultures are mixed and there are many goods that are completely foreign to me. While in Chiang Mai I went to many markets but I’ve never seen some of the stuff that is sold here. Among the standard vegetables and fish there are live frogs in those little orange plastic mesh bags that oranges are sold in, live eels, live turtles, a variety of live fish, and what look like polliwogs. It makes for quite an interesting stroll.

While all of this diversity makes walking down the street a very enjoyable and interesting experiences there is a constant presence to remind a person why such diversity exists in Mae Sot. The beggars here are like none I’ve ever encountered. They range in age from young children to old graying adults. Many of them have missing or maimed limbs. They beg all over the city, on many street corners, and particularly at restaurants that are popular with NGO volunteers. While all of this, in itself, is not particularly uncommon among the begging population anywhere in the world there is a subtle, yet profound, difference in the beggars here. It’s their eyes. Some look frightened; this is especially true of the children. Others stare completely vacant and hopeless. When you look into children’s eyes and they are frightened it is never easy to ignore the feeling that their looks illicit. But at least fear is an emotion; one that we can relate to. When you look into eyes that are hopeless… there’s nothing comparable. The pain of years and years of war and struggle has left these people with no energy to even feel an emotion. Their eyes convey only indifference, not fear, not pain, not sadness, not any emotion that I can identify with. I’ve never felt indifferent towards my life. Seeing people that do I hope I never experience it.