In 50 meters the world changed
Yesterday I traveled up to Mae Sai to travel across the border into Burma and get my visa re-stamped for another 90 days. I would have saved time and gone a week or so ago while I was visiting Mae Sot, but the border there has been closed due to nearby fighting on the Burmese side.
This has been the second time that I crossed from Mae Sai, so I kind of knew what to expect, but that didn’t make things any less shocking.
Gone were the masses of street children, left were just a few particularly hungry kids. Where did the others go? I try not to think about it, lest I come up with the worst possible scenario.
Minutes across the border a new record was set. Last time, I was shocked when a street vendor offered me a girl to buy. This time, not even five minutes across, five different taxi drivers offered first, to take me to see the sights, and second, to take me to buy a girl. That is a record that I wish never to be broken, even though it is not a record that I esteem. But I have grown, for the better I cannot be sure, as last time I did not know how to react, this time I quickly said “no”, and strongly walked away, rage and pain in my heart.
After walking around the markets, seeing a few people begging, but many people trying to earn money, we decided to go back to Thailand. I bought a drink, and walked across the bridge. A young boy ran up to me and reached out for the remainder of the drink. I gave it, and he ran off drinking what was basically now just slowly melting ice. I then made the foolish mistake of taking a 50 baht note out, and giving it to three kids who promised to share, but did not. One ran away with it, the other two looked to me for more.
As I went into Thai immigration, they disappeared, but, looking up to the Thai side, there they were, waiting, having snuck in through under the bridge. Annoyed, I told them that I had given them money already, that it was up to them to use what they were given to help each other. What spirit did I talk by? But they insisted, begging me to see things how they did, begging me to help them fill their stomachs. So I told them to follow me, and I’d buy them food.
As we walked down the main street of Mae Sai I then noticed a little girl, maybe 3 years old, walking alongside me, her palms together. But she never looked at me. Examining her clothes, I bent down to talk to her. She wore no shoes, a tattered shirt and pants, her mouth missing teeth, I asked her if she was hungry. A shy smile come up on her face. So I told her to walk with me until we came to a fruit vendor. I asked what she wanted, and she asked for a Mandarin, so I bought it, handing over a 100 baht note. She was so happy, but it was not enough to me. As she began to skip away, before the shop keeper had gathered all my change, I stopped the girl, and bought her some watermelon too. Before she left, I bent down and told her “remember this always, Jesus loves you.”
Taking my change, I walked further on with the two boys, who seemed to want something a bit more sustainable than fruit. Coming to a stand that sold fried chicken, they asked me for some. Ask, and you will receive. I bought them a piece each, and asked the shop keeper if she had sticky rice, then bought them more than even I could eat. Before they left I told them the same as I told the little girl. “Do you know who Jesus is? Today I have fed you because He feeds me. Never forget that He loves you, seek Him.”
At this time, to my side then walked an old man, a beggar leaning on his cane, whom I had walked past a few steps earlier. He looked at me with his gaunt look, and I said “why not?” And bought him some too. Was I taken advantage of? Who cares? When parking the car cost me more, who really cares? The kids had all gone, but the old man and I walked in the same direction for a while, and as he turned to go his way thanked me again, and I told him also as to why I cared enough to feed him as his stomach growled.
When heading across the border from Mae Sai, you walk across a bridge. In that 50 meters the world changes. In that 50 meters desperation rises. Sure there may be some who try to take advantage, but look a little closer. The men who offered me a girl to buy. It would be easy to hold anger in my heart against them, but if they had the opportunity to be a well paid lawyer, which do you think they’d really choose? The kids who followed me to the point of stalking, I had already given them money, my duty was done. It would be easy to have lashed out in anger, telling them “NO! Leave me!” But would they really risk making such a comparatively large foreigner angry, would they really risk sneaking across the border, if they were not desperate for food?
To stand by and watch as evil is done is to share in its guilt. Let nobody ignore the plights of others, but understand that every war is a civil war; that every death is a death in the family; that to live without fear is not a privilege but a right; that to love your brother is to love yourself.
I had learned some lessons from my last time over one year ago. Then, I left completely heart broken, both at the situation, and my failure to quench the hunger of one little starving girl. I still remember her. I think about her often. How she did not understand Thai, or English. So I just had to say to her “sorry” as I walked off, head hung low.
This time I took money with me. Not to buy things, but to just do something. Smaller notes, not large. Then yesterday I learned another lesson, not to give money away at first, but to buy food for those who’s words were being drowned out by the growling of their stomachs. Next time I will learn more lessons. And I hope never again, to feel the same way as I did when I turned from the small, frail, starving girl just over one year ago.
