TalesoftheOtherSide Finalweb

Tales of the Other Side
Tales of the
Other Side
A Collection of Shorts Stories
of Burmese Migrant Workers
in Thailand
Compiled by
Yaung Chi Oo Workers’ Association
Tales of the Other Side
A Collection of Shorts Stories of Burmese Migrant
Workers in Thailand
Asia Monitor Resource Centre

The Asia Monitor Resoure Centre is an independent non-
governmental organization focusing on Asian labour concerns. The
Centre provides information, research, publications, trainings, labour
networking and related services to trade unions, labour groups, and
other development NGOs in the region. The Centre’s main goal is to
support democratic and independent labour movement in Asia. In
order to achieve this goal, AMRC upholds the principle of workers’
empowerment and gender consciousness, and follows participatory
framework.
The Yaung Chi Oo Workers’ Association

Yaung Chi Oo Workers’ Association was founded in July 1999 by
Burmese student activists and migrant workers, with the goal of
improving working and living conditions for the Burmese migrant
laborers in the Mae Sot area of Thailand. Since then, it has mainly
focused on protecting worker rights, providing rights education,
supporting health care and facilitating social activities.
Published by
Asia Monitor Resource Centre
Flat 7, 9/F, Block A, Fuk Keung Industrial Building
66-68 Tong Mi Road Kowloon Hong Kong
Tel: (852) 2332-1346 Fax: (852)2835-5319
Email: amrc@amrc.org.hk Facebook: facebook.com/AMRCHK/
Website: amrc.org.hk
Copyright © 2019 Asia Monitor Resource Centre

ISBN: 978-962-7145-51-6
All rights reserved. The chapters in the book may be reproduced in any
non-profit publications; credit is requested.
Editorial Team: Moe Swe, Abu Mufakhir, May Wong, Noel Colina
Copy Editor: Gia Santos-Lim
Layout: Jane Siwa
Cover design: Karl Castro
Cover photo by: Hakan Nural
Supported by: Belgian Development Cooperation
Table of Contents
1 Preface
/ by Moe Swe
5
A Photo Had Not Been Taken
/ by Kyaw Thet Htwe
13
The Broken Mirror Pieces of the Future
/ by Ko Zan
17
Small Mute Bells
/ by Ko Zan

21Love created with clouds
/ by Nya Nay Nyan

33I will be waiting at the beer bar
/ by Maung Lwan Ni
43
Run with the rain, bend with the wind,
With whom will you sail?
/ by Kyaw Thet Htwe
49
Other side of the border line
/ by Ko Zan
53
Baby Doll’s mom
/ by Ko Zan

59Dream lost in Life
/ by NayNiNi
71
“Never Return to Bangkok”
/ by Mu Mu Kyi (ThaNatPin)
viii
Preface
After gaining independence from the British on January

of 1948, the first decade of freedom saw Myanmar/
Burma achieving success and prosperity in every field,
including the economic sphere, education and sports,
and comparable to many South East Asian countries.
After power was seized by General Ne Win
through a military coup in 1962, Burmese life has
seen a downward spiral. Because of the more than two
decades reign of the military government, Myanmar
was included in 1987 to the list of the Least Developed
Countries (LDC) in the world.
The majority of Burmese, who were already
suffering, came to face further deterioration of
life when the military dictator Ne Win made an
announcement declaring most of the Burmese
currency that was held by the people illegal.
1
Burdened by massive oppression and poverty,
the whole country protested and the revolution for
democracy and freedom appeared in 1988. The
military annihilated violently the revolution in 1988
and the old military regime handed over power to the
new military regime.
Due to the wrong policy and mismanagement of
the economy, corruption and the ignorance of skilled
practitioners by the military government, Myanmar
economy reached to its lowest point in 1995.
Burmese in their tens of thousands, poor
farmers, educated people and technicians, emigrated
and became documented and undocumented
migrants to neighboring countries such as Thailand,
China and India. Those who can afford it moved
to Singapore, Malaysia, South Korea, Hong Kong,
Taiwan and Japan and settled there. Hundreds of
thousands of Burmese workers, with only a small
creek acting as a physical border, crossed to Thailand
to find work. Likewise, tens of thousands of many
ethnic groups such as the Mon, Karen, Shan, Chin
and Kachin, who were made homeless, insecure and
unemployed because of long-lasting civil war, also
came to Thailand to look for a better life.
The early years of the 1980’s saw Thailand’s
economy starting to boom, but it encountered the
problem of labor shortage in factories and basic
employment, as rural and middle-class Thai people
2 Tales of the Other Side

chose to work in companies and cities. Migrants who
were hopeful to find their better lives, encountered
oppression, human right abuse and scarcity of
employment by the military government. They also
suffered from human trafficking, deceit, and tyranny
by corrupted authorities from both sides of the fence
before they were able to reach their place of work.
Burmese migrant workers also had to face the
language barrier in work and different opinions
in Thai society and encountered the exploitation
of business owners and managers, as well as the
ignorance of Thailand laws.
According to latest researches of INGOs and
international universities, there are more than 4
million Burmese migrant workers, documented and
undocumented, who are working in Thailand.
This book is about the Burmese migrant workers
who came to Thailand, by hook or by crook, in order
to take up any job that comes by. This is an attempt to
document and learn about the life stories of ordinary
Burmese working in the border area. The collated
short stories tries to provide a snapshot of the many
facets of daily life of a Burmese migrant worker.
Driven by the goal of improving working and
living conditions for the Burmese migrant labors
in the Mae Sot area of Thailand, Burmese student
activists and migrant workers formed Yaung Chi Oo
Workers’ Association (YCOWA) in July 1999.
Preface 3
Since 2004, the Yaung Chi Oo labor affair Journal
has been publishing in stories of migrant workers in
Thailand. Many of the stories in this book are real-
life scripts which have been included in the Burmese
version of the Journal.
YCOWA has cooperated with the Asia Monitor and
Resource Centre (AMRC) in Hong Kong for Burmese
migrant workers since 2004 and would like to express
heartfelt thanks to AMRC team for the distribution of
this book.
Grateful acknowledgement is here made to the
Burmese migrant workers and the authors who shared
their valuable experience in writing Burmese migrant
workers’ scripts.
Special thanks also go to former editors Ko Zan,
Ko Aung Thu, Ko Htet Yar Zar, Ko Hnin Khar Moe,
Ko Thiha Mg Mg, Ko Moe Kyaw,Ko Myo Ko and all
colleagues of YCO labor affair Journal.
Moe Swe
General Secretary
Yaung Chi Oo Workers’ Association
YCOWA

A Photo Had Not
Been Taken
W hen I left the barracks at 6 am, the whole sky

was dark and it was about to rain. It is now
only eight o’clock, but it is very hot, as if I am in the
blacksmith’s forge.
Not hearing our supervisors’ shouting due to the
thunderous sound of a running concrete mixer, we
bricklayers, continued to lay bricks to construct brick
walls even with all the yelling. I am very experienced
at this. A lot of bricklayers or masons do not want to
count their working years though, even when they
have gotten smarter through experience.
In our construction site, all call me “Myaungmya”,
the way my senior calls me, because, you see, my
name is Yan Myo Aung, but the thing is, I am
from Myaungmya, a town in the Delta region, and
that is where I got the name. I came to Mae Sot
adventurously, without knowing too much about it.
5
After doing different types of work such as working
as a waiter, harvesting crops, painting, digging drains,
cutting wood, and cultivating hillsides, I got this job as
a bricklayer because of my senior.
Laying bricks is very tiring and that while doing the
work, the sweat on the forehead runs down to my toes.
As a bricklayer, we have to have artistic imagination
and we should know about the color theory, from
constructing concrete roads, drains of a house and
a five-star hotel, the most basic construction work is
bricklaying, which is one of the Ten Flowers of art and
culture in order to construct a building systematically,
in accordance with the drawing of an architect.
In our construction site, big warehouses are being
built. Iron grid work and bricklaying are ongoing,
these were started after excavating to erect the
foundations. These construction sites offer large-scale
employment for Myanmar migrant workers, when one
man comes, another man goes – that is the cycle in
our mundane world. Such a big construction site can
create job opportunities one after another.
Excavation is also done by bricklayers, it is also a
difficult work, it is not different from the basic works
of bricklayers such as carrying bricks and concrete.
In constructing a one-storey or two-storey building,
a construction group would need at least five skillful
bricklayers and five helpers who do the hard labor, two

supervisors would also need two women to do their
difficult tasks.
Thai contractors pay wages based on
construction time because constructing a building
only takes three months. Generally, the daily wage
for a senior bricklayer is 170 baht, and 110 to 120
baht for a laborer. In my case, I started to work for
90 baht per day.
Every bricklayer also has to be proficient in
iron grid work, which is related to bricklaying. If a
building is to be built, bricklayers also carry the iron
grids, it is also part of our construction work. In the
construction site of a big building, iron grid works
are carried out by inviting tenders, I had to carry cut
iron bars earlier because I could not cut iron grid
work at that time.
My senior told me that the basic steps of
masonry is from excavating to setting rebar and then
constructing reinforced concrete columns. Next step
is making wooden frame with eight-to-one thick
wood planks, concrete is then poured into the wooden
frame. After one night, masonry work can be carried
out, at the same time, welding for the roof is also
started – welding principal rafters, common rafters,
and tie beams. The sound coming from the welding
on the roof harmonizes well with the sound from the
site where we lay bricks.
A Photo Had Not Been Taken 7

Many problems arise in our construction site.
If there’s a commotion anywhere in our site, it
may be just because of a betel quid, a brick, a plate
of rice, or just a glass of water. I remember once, a
worker wanted to wear his hat to protect himself
from the heat of the sun, but while picking up the
hat from a pile of bricks, a brick fell and hit another
worker on his head. The owner of the hat went on
without apologizing. After work in the evening, they
continued to argue in the bar and that is not unusual,
my senior usually comments that this is a common
behavior in Myanmar. I never think of it as a shame
or an undignified behavior, we are human and we
feel stressed and angry because of poverty.
One major problem in masonry work is bullying.
Old-timers bully newcomers. Sometimes, there is
bullying even between the seniors. The one who is
liked by Thai contractors is treated with envy and
hatred by others. There is so much competition
and other challenges in construction sites that the
workers have to face. Although we quarrel in this
construction site, we have to behave brazenly in
another site.

I like the saying “A village ox does not feed on village
grass.” There are couples who met at work and then
got married, but I am not interested in women who
work in our site because I treat them not only as my
colleagues but also as my sisters. There are some girls
who try to draw my attention by throwing an obvious
hint. But I stand firm, I will not get married until my
dreams come true.
There is a girl with whom I have fallen in love,
she sells betel quid near my barracks. Her father is a
mason like me and her mother already passed away. I
pursued her and she returned my love after giving her
three love letters. Her father actually knows of our love
affair, but he does not talk to me about it. He pretends
he does not know about it, but he is an honest man.
My greatest dream is to go to Bangkok or Mahar
Chaing and work in a skyscraper construction.
When I have saved enough money to settle, I will
fetch my girlfriend and ask her to live with me. I
have been dreaming of that for more than five years,
yet I am still here in this site, working hard, trying
to make ends meet.
I have been through so much sorrow all my
life. I always miss my parents, my siblings, and my
hometown. I have been struggling incessantly in

Mae Sot. I have also battled hunger here, but I felt
the greatest sorrow with the loss of my good friend,
Kalar Pu.
Kalar Pu’s real name is Kyauk Taing, but he was
known as Kalar Pu, he was from Mawlamyaing. He
was a Mon half-breed and he had an accent of the Mon
people. I met him in this site and we became friends
instantly.
We shared a room in these barracks. He was a
good friend and he was generous to me. He did all the
house chores such as cooking and drawing water. He
lacked education and I was able to attend school until
seventh grade, so he favored me.
One day, he was welding steel principal rafters
and tie beams with two others on the roof, we were
laying bricks to construct walls that time. The sun was
shining brightly. How scorching hot that day was! We
felt so hot, as if we were in a barren place. It was the
work time after lunch, my senior came along with the
contractor for the next job. Three brick-carrier girls
were carrying bricks in a relaxed manner. Suddenly,
we heard a loud noise. Someone dropped onto the pile
of clay roof tiles. It was Kalar Pu, shouted the workers
on the roof. When we lifted him up, he could not say
anything and he was bleeding profusely. After a short
while, he stopped breathing. My senior mason and the

contractor went and sent Kalar Pu to the hospital, but
he was dead on arrival.
It is difficult to forget Kalar Pu’s tragic death. It has
nearly been two months since and I still remember. I
am still staying in the room where we lived together, I
never left. Our contractor provided half of the funeral
cost, but no one was given any compensation. We
asked some people from Mawlamyaing to inform
Kalar Pu’s relatives from his village about his death,
but no one could tell what exactly happened, whether
his relatives already know or not – we do not really
know. No one even bothered to take a photograph of
his body. At that time, we have not heard of any labor
organization yet, though there might be, I did not even
know that Labor Day exists.
Kyaw Thet Htwe

The Broken Mirror
Pieces of the Future
M ae Sot Market is bustling with migrant workers

from Myanmar, shoppers and sellers. A sudden
commotion at the corner of the market surprised
everybody. A twelve-year-old girl was scurrying across
the crowd. In one hand she was grabbing a nine-year-
old-boy and on the other, she clutched on a plastic
cup. I asked a vendor near me, “What’s going on?” He
replied, “It may be the police chasing beggars.”
With a heavy heart, I looked at the girl and the boy
running. They were still rushing, pushing between
the crowd. As I looked at the two of them, the girl
clasping another kid, probably her younger brother,
and balancing a cup with coins jangling, trying to
keep the contents from falling, I really prayed for
them to escape.
13

”Will you buy this watercress? There are five-baht
bunches and also two-baht bunches. If you buy three
two-baht bunches, you only have to give me five baht.”
I directed my eyes to the girl selling the watercress.
She is talking non-stop. She is clothed with a green-
colored school uniform skirt so dark that it looks more
black than green. I am guessing she is just eleven
years old.
I told her, “I’ll buy two five-baht bunches.” And I
added, “Do you go to school?’’ She looked of school age
and also wearing school uniform. The girl sighed, “I
had attended the Yaung Chi Oo School before, but it has
been a long time since I left that school. My younger
sister is attending that school now.” Then she took the
ten-baht coin with pleasure and walked away. While
gazing at this girl, my friend told to me, “She used to
attend the Yaung Chi Oo School. She will now buy half
a kilogram of rice for dinner with money she got from
selling watercress. Her parents had gone to Bangkok for
one year. She now lives with her grandmother.” I found
my friend sighing quietly after telling me.
She continued to occupy my thoughts. She could
be headed now to meet her grandmother, to bring
the food she brought with the money from selling
watercress. Like me, she would probably be praying
that her granddaughter does not encounter the police.

“Brother, please allow us to collect the bottles.” Two
children were asking me to allow them to pick up the
bottles thrown in the drain behind the compound. They
are about nine or ten years old. One of them is not
wearing any shirt, while the other seems to be wearing
an old shirt.
Both of them are barefoot. They look happy after
collecting many bottles. “There are also many paper
boxes. Pick them up.... Ah… We can get two baht
by selling this bottles,” they told themselves which
picking up the bottles. I advised them, “Your feet
might get cut with glass shards. Be careful.”
My words seemed to be drowned out by their own
conversation. “We are very lucky today,” they said
while carrying the heavy bag loaded with bottles and
paper boxes. They might have found happiness that
would last them for a day. But their happiness is…
It is almost noon.
“I can return home only if I have sold out all
these packets of Mohinga.” An eleven-year-old girl
carrying a tray with three packets of Mohinga uttered.
’’My mother is ill and she cannot go selling so I sell
Mohinga to help her. My father is dead and my brother
has gone to Bangkok for two years and we have not
heard anything from him. Please buy all packets of
Mohinga. Uhm… If they will not be sold out, we can
The Broken Mirror Pieces of the Future 15

eat them for breakfast,” she murmured to herself, as if
trying to convince herself of what will happen. While
whispering, her eyes were welling up with tears. She
may be one of those who have figured out that life is
the atonement for past sins and misdeeds. Her sun-
burnt skin and stressed eyes says it all.
I have gotten lost in reading about others’ lives, having

to turn one page after another. At times, I feel sad. At
times, I feel tired. At times, I deeply relate to their lives.
These slivers of tragedies scar people, and they become
like broken mirror pieces, they can be pieced together
again but can never be the same. Their tiredness, their
anxiety from reality, their frightened eyes, their sorrows
from past experiences – they all make me feel sad. Is it
their parents’ fault or is it of their own? Is it because of
the present rotting system? When reality strikes, it comes
down hard when you least expect it. But why?! They may
be broken mirror pieces, but they still reflect light, and
in the future will surely find ways to carry on even when
they are under immense difficulties and stress.
Ko Zan

Small Mute Bells
“P lease give me some money.”
Hearing that, I almost choked while downing

my remaining sip of tea. A little girl carrying a two-
year-old child was standing beside me. She was
wandering and asking for money around the rows of
tea shops in Mae Sot Market. Her reddish hair, dull
and faded complexion, and dingy clothes seemed to
reveal her daily routine.
“We get up early in the morning and the whole
family comes to Mae Sot. We return to Myawaddy in
the evening. We rent a little hut in Myawaddy and it
costs 12,000 Kyats a month. I have six siblings and
this one is only two years old.” While saying this,
she raised the child. The child seemed to be hungry
and was about to cry while we were talking. She
took the feeding bottle tucked in her waist, and gave
17
it to her little brother. However, no milk was left and
the poor child was heartily sucking plain water from
the bottle.
“We lived in Sagaing before we lived in
Myawaddy. It has only been three years since. We
enjoyed living in Sagaing where we did not live
a deprived life like this. My father was a farmer,
but now, I don’t know where the farm has gone.
Although we did farming in Myawaddy, it was never
convenient. My father works as a mason in Mae Sot
too, still he could not earn enough to support our
whole family.”
“We get about forty or fifty Thai baht in the
afternoon and fifteen or twenty baht a day at the
night market. Each meal costs ten baht. We buy and
eat only in the market, however, we have to eat our
meals only by the roadside. We are not allowed to
eat in the shops. A packet of rice is five baht, curry
costs five baht as well. We have to drink water from
water taps which are under some people’s houses
and sometimes, we are driven away. We feel unhappy
when that happens but…”
“I have begged in Mae Sot for over three or four
years. I live together with my father, my father’s
wife, and my little twin brothers. This is one of the
twins. The other one is with my father’s wife, my
stepmother. We have to give her all the money we
beg, my brother is falling ill.”

Her grief-stricken voice softly reached my ears.
“He is only nine months old and I don’t know
what happened to him. He has been vomiting. He is
now at a students’ clinic. My stepmother is watching
him there. Since my little brother is feeling unwell, I
beg at the night market to earn extra money.”
“School? What about school?”
She seemed to hesitate before she uttered
the word ‘school’. Only after a few seconds, she
continued her words. “I left school when I was on the
third grade because we had very hard times.” Tears
began to accumulate in her eyes. Her sorrowful eyes
appeared to reveal her feeling of hopelessness.
Suddenly, a boy nearby who was listening and
standing beside her interrupted, “I left school on the
first grade, because my father cannot walk without
being aided. I have to help my father since I am a
bit grown up. I need to lead him when he walks.” He
then pointed to his father at a short distance. I found
an amputee on crutches who is also blind. When I
looked at the boy, he was only over six years old. Then
he departed, guiding his father.
The little girl resumed. “I want to attend school,
especially when I see children my age going to
school in school uniforms. I remember my school
days. I want to attend the schools here,” she said
gladly.
“However, it isn’t possible,” she added.
Small Mute Bells 19

“I have to look after my little brothers and earn
money, too. I also have no clothes for school.” She
repeatedly said her desperate words, gazing hazily at
a distance and thinking about something…
Ko Zan

Love Created with Clouds
I t is early in the morning.
Thinking of searching for a job, I walk with a

hangdog expression along the misty main road in
Hlaing Tharyar Industrial Zone in Myanmar, staring
at those job noticeboards, but I cannot find a job that
is suitable for me. By the time I reach the corner of
a street, I see my girlfriend, Nu War, getting off the
ferry. She greeted me with a smile and disappeared
in the crowd, queuing to be checked at the gate of
their factory.
When I looked at her carefully, I did not see her
wearing her gold necklace. Her family may be having a
hard time, maybe she pawned it again to help her family.
My partner and I live in the same street, in the
same yard. We understand each other, but due to
poverty, we cannot feel romance as intense as the
21
passion we see in films. We always meet whenever
we go to work, since we live in the same street. I had
fallen in love her and she reciprocated my love.
Both her family and my family are from the lower
classes of society. My parents sold their fields and
moved from the upper region to Yangon to settle,
bringing with them great hope. My father provided for
us by driving a rickshaw and my mother earned money
by selling groceries. I have four siblings. Because I am
the eldest, I have to take part in supporting my family.
My second younger sister helps my mother in selling
and my three younger brothers are students.
My second younger brother and I persistently
tried to get university degrees from University of
Distance Education, but our degrees are of no use for
job opportunities to earn a living. Although most of
my colleagues are college graduates, they also have to
work in that factory to provide for their families.
My girlfriend is also a graduate of law. She has
to spend a lot of money to take the final examination
and to complete her internship, so she has to work
in a garment factory in this industrial zone as an
office staff.
I was the supervisor of the cutting department in
a garment factory, but my salary was just enough to
cover the expenses in our home. My mother even had
to ask for support from my uncle living in Yankin, she

is really hoping for her three younger sons to be well-
educated too.
I am not satisfied with the work I do in such a
garment factory, but I have to work in this factory until
I find a better job. I can’t risk losing my job, I have to
help feed my family, but then bad fate came and didn’t
gave me a choice…
Our department was very busy that time and we
worked a little overtime through the night. We all
needed money, so we worked very hard without caring
for our health. One day, a worker from my group
fell down and complained of stomachache. His skin
was pale in color and he was sweating profusely. I
asked our in-charge to give him medical leave. When
we went to the factory clinic, they just gave us fever
medication, Paracetamol. I was very angry with
them because they just gave that medicine instead of
sending him to the hospital. I lifted him up and talked
to the person-in-charge, “His condition is critical. He
cannot be cured with this medicine. I have to send
him to the hospital. Give me one day leave and for
him, a medical leave.’’
At the entrance gate, the security guard checked
us and I told him to open the door. The patient’s
condition was critical. Upon asking the person-in-
charge, the guard opened the door.
Love Created with Clouds 23

When we arrived at the hospital, we figured out
that he had appendicitis and an operation was required
to treat him. However, he could not pay for his medical
bills at once. I left him and went to his home to inform
his family about his condition. As soon as his family
arrived in the hospital, I went back home.
The next day I went to work. The guard did not let
me go in, and to my surprise, he told me I have been
fired. I wanted to know what happened exactly, and
requested to meet and talk to the person-in-charge and
he agreed to inform him.
When I saw him, he blankly told me, “We fired
you because you left the factory yesterday without
permission. You can get this month’s salary on payday.
You can go now.” I tried to explain what happened. I
asked to give me one day leave to send the patient to a
hospital. He gave me permission and the guard opened
the door. So I went out of the factory. The condition of
the patient was very fatal and so I helped him. They did
not accept my explanation, so I left exasperated. I felt
worried. I do not have a job anymore. Unless I have job,
I could not provide for my family.
I went looking for a new job, but the problem is
that factory owners tell other owners about workers
they fired and personal files are passed on to factories
within their reach. Factory owners are advised against
accepting these job applicants. My factory owner told

others that I have bad manners, and that made looking
for a job difficult.
A week after that, my cousin went to my house. He
was planning to apply for a passport to go to Singapore
to work there as a welder. He said that he is planning
to go to Singapore with a recruiter and urged me to go,
too. He said he will help me if I wish to do so. I was
interested in it, but I needed money to be able to go
with him. Sadly, I cannot afford the amount of money
needed, so I have to put it off.
“Hey, you… Where will you go? You look sad. Let’s
have a cup of tea, my treat.” I turned around and
saw my classmate, Min Nyo. I felt happy. After taking
a seat, I greeted Min Nyo by grabbing his hand.
“Min Nyo, I am really happy to see you. Where
do you live? What do you do? I was fired from work
just recently, for about a month. I was about to get my
salary today since it is payday. How are you doing?”
Min Nyo was listening to me carefully, rubbing his
chin and knitting his brows as always.
“Ah! It is too bad, I am sorry to hear it. As for me,
I am ok. I am working in a knitting factory in Mae Sot.
I went back home to bring my friends there to work
also. If you cannot find a job here, you can come along

with me. I will provide you your travel expenses and I
will help you find a job. Just return my money when
you get your salary. I am going to help you. You’re
going to be okay!”
Hearing Min Nyo’s words, I became very happy
and told him, “Yes, of course!” Min Nyo smiled.
I have decided to come along with Min Nyo to Mae
Sot. When I told my parents that I will go to Mae Sot
to work, my mother wept silently, nodding her head.
“My son, I want you to stay with me, but I will
allow you because of our situation. You need to earn
money.” She let out a deep sigh. “I just wish that
our country has good economy, to make our money
valuable, so that our people can work within our
country. Don’t forget Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha,
your parents, and your teachers. Take care of your
health.”
I turned my head to the other side because I did
not want to see my mother crying. While smoking, my
father was gazing at the column of smoke he exhaled
from his nose and then told me, “If you want to go,
you can go. What you have to remember is not to
give up when you face difficulties. Avoid doing bad
manners that were stereotyped to us Burmese, when
you work in another country. You must respect their
culture and traditions and never betray your country.
My heart is aching to send you far from home. Of

course, our country is richer in labor force and natural
resources than the country where you are going, but
we cannot be free from poverty if we will only rely
on these resources. We cannot work in our country
peacefully. Our money is not valuable and so is the
education. Umm… Take care of yourself on your way
to Mae Sot and bear my words in mind.”
In the morning of my departure, I followed Min
Nyo after paying respect to my parents. When we
arrived in Mae Sot, I got a job at a factory. The more
time I spent in Mae Sot, the more I understand
and deeply sympathize with the lives of my fellow
Myanmar migrant workers struggling for money.
Some workers do not receive their salaries from the
factory owner, some quarrel with their employer and
are shot dead, some cannot bear the insults of the
Burmese confidant of the boss and so they quit work,
some female workers are raped by the employer, some
are arrested by the police and sent back to Myanmar,
and then they come back to Mae Sot when all of the
money they have saved were all used up. While we
work in the factory in a frightened manner, we are
also afraid of being arrested by police when we go out.
As time went by, even though I refuse to, I learned
to accept the fact that I have to get used to these
misfortunes.

Happiness for us, Myanmar migrant workers,
comes rarely and so gambling, illegal lotteries, and
football betting spread to Mae Sot. They help some
workers escape our harsh realities. Some of my
colleagues are burdened with debts from gambling
with cards and illegal lotteries. I frequently think that
I am one of those who are unsure of their future and
probably will drift into a bad situation.
I cannot write a letter to my girlfriend and I cannot
phone her once a month. The store in our yard charges
a lot of money for a received call. My girlfriend works
overtime and she is not home when I call.
I got two letters one day – one from my mother
and one from my girlfriend.
I read the letter from my girlfriend first. The letter
stated that Nu War’s parents want her to get married
with the owner of a powered schooner from their
village if we do not get married at the end of this year.
She wants to know my decision.
I can’t keep myself from sighing after reading the
letter. Thinking of what to reply to Nu, I asked the one
who has brought the letters, “When will you return to
Myanmar?” He replied, “I will go back the day after
tomorrow and you can send a word if you wish.”
In my mother’s letter, she asks me if I was in good
health. Two of my three younger brothers are going
to graduate and they will go to Singapore at the end

of this year and my uncle needed money. He cannot
provide money for the education of my youngest
brother anymore. They want me to come back home at
the end of the year and send money to her.
After moping for a while, I remember that today is
the 10th of November. Twenty days more and it will be
December. I close my eyes after letting out a sigh. All I
see is darkness.
I sent two letters with the messenger, one for my
mother and one for Nu.
I didn’t take responsibility for my love, Nu. I have
not written about things I dare not tell. For my mother,
it’s the same. I cannot tell her.
It’s already November, but I don’t feel cold, because
I am consumed with grief. It is not really cold. Like the
climate change, my life is full of chaos and confusion.
Nu and my mother are counting on me. If the
things I have written for them will make them happy, I
will be pleased.
Time flies by so quickly, but what I have long
been waiting for is still out of reach. The New Year
Festival called Pi Maing Festival is being celebrated
today, but instead of rejoicing, here I am, lying in
bed, in a small room.
I talked to Min Nyo and he said, “The official from
Yaung Chi Oo Association told me that our boss will
sign an agreement to give us compensation after our

case is resolved. We have to stay here for the meantime.
The association made our labor cards with their money.
It may be okay. After that, we will go to Bangkok to find
new jobs. Stay strong! Everything will be fine.”
A faint smile broke across my face.
I try to neglect everything by closing my eyes
tightly, but the words I wrote to Nu remained stuck in
my head.
Dear Nu,
I’m in good health and everything is fine. I’m

very happy to receive your letter. I really want to
come to you, but I’m very busy. I will try to come
back home at the end of this year and get married
to you. I am trying to save some money for our
marriage. You and I have to be away from each
other for the time being. How are you getting on,
Nu? I want to come to my beloved looking forward
to seeing me. I miss you,
Nu.
I wanted to tell her so much more, but my lack of

courage prevents me from writing her a much longer
letter. I will be happy if she enjoyed reading it.
Truthfully, I am jobless now. My employer was
forcing the workers in our factory to work extra hours

without overtime pay. He then closed the factory and
ran away. Our colleagues complained to the labor office
about this with the help of Yaung Chi Oo Association.
We filed a complaint against our employer through the
labor office and we are supposed to get compensation
for our job loss.
According to Min Nyo, we may get the
compensation at the beginning of next year. I will
find a new job with this money and I will send half
of the money to my family back home. But life does
not always come my way. The day I received the letters
from my mother and Nu is already a month after I
became jobless. I had not the heart to tell them about
this. I wrote to my mother that I would send her the
money she needs.
In the letter I wrote for Nu, I just wrote how much
I love her. She is now expecting the day of my return,
counting days with her fingers… Has she married the
one chosen by her parents?
Nevertheless, I love her very much. I always think
of making her life pretty and perfect. I am satisfied
even if I give her up. My love cannot give Nu warmth.
My life is just like the floating clouds. If my love is to
be regarded as the cloud, it must be a raincloud that
showers on my beloved Nu for her life to start anew.
Lost in thought, I was staring at the wall and saw
the quote, “Fight to find your opportunity.” Is getting
married to Nu my opportunity? Whom will I fight

against to have Nu? Thinking that our lives are written
on the clouds, I close my fist tightly and recall my
father’s words.
Of course, our country is richer in labor force
and natural resources than the country where you are
going, but we cannot be free from poverty if we will
only rely on these resources. We cannot work in our
country peacefully. Our money is not valuable and so
is the education.
Nya Nay Nyan

I Will Be Waiting
at the Beer Bar
I used to enjoy nights in Mae Sot. When passing

across familiar places by car, my heart would skip
a beat. The once beautifully decorated building, is now
Kway Ti Yo shop. There alcohol flows liberally and
while kept alive through the night by rhythmic beats
of music.
I remember, it was ten years ago when I often
went to Mae Sot. I went there to meet with my friends,
to attend social events, and most especially to have
some material to write for the paper. I used to stay at
a hotel on the outskirts of Mae Sot and rarely went to
Mae Sot’s downtown. I would only go to there when I
was about to return home. I would go there to buy tea,
peas, and pon ye gyi.
It was one of those days when I would come with
my friends to go out and visit Mae Sot. There were
only a few restaurants back then. We did not know
where we should go in the night market. We followed
33
the lead of a friend who was familiar to Mae Sot. This
is where the rest of the story began...
My friend told us to follow his lead and so we did.
When the car stopped at the building, our partially-
closed eyes went wide open. There were colorful
electric bulbs hanging. Young, beautiful girls wearing
mini dresses and colorful makeup were either sitting
or leaning against the wall in front of the building. I
was certain, it was beer bar.
In Thailand, bars and prostitution are the main
attractions in the tourism and hospitality industry.
These two attract the most tourists. It can be said that
sex industry is a successful investment not only in
Mae Sot, but all over the country, including Patpong in
Bangkok, Sukumvit, and Pattaya Beach.
There are Burmese women who make money as
sex workers in Ranong Kanchanaburi, Chiang Mai,
and Mae Sai, including Mae Sot. Their stories are
common news. They can be seen in Thai newspapers
and heard from the radio news. Because I worked as
an editor-in-chief, I have edited such news for the
paper and have also attended workshops concerning
sex workers, I have participated in discussions to
observe their lives, but I have not had any personal
experience in hunting for such news and writing
about it.
Even then, in Thai Newspapers, there were so
many tragic stories of Burmese female sex workers,

such as trafficking and selling of Burmese women
and girls to brothels. A Thai employer tied about
twenty women together with a chain for them not
to escape. A woman killed the boss and committed
suicide after. She was a sex slave, was raped, almost
killed in downtown, was put into glass viewing rooms
of brothels after getting married to a Thai man. These
events might seem unusual, but they always happen. I
have been in such a place.
My thoughts were spinning – friendship, morals,
dignity, evil deeds, music which excite me, rough
kissing and hugging, risk of HIV, loyalty to family.
Although it was lust that overpowered me, I remember
having to observe a part of their lives, so I needed to
control myself.
I was holding a glass of alcohol and sizing up
a girl sitting by me. I needed a drink to warm up. I
asked her how long she has been here. She replied,
“Only three months.” I knew she was lying and she
was trying to be casual.
“Do you live here?” she asked me.
“I’m a guest.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes, of course. And I also have a son.”
“If you have a wife, why do you come here? It
doesn’t do you any good”.
I didn’t know whether I would show her respect or
blame myself and feel guilty.
I Will Be Waiting at the Beer Bar 35

“Would you like to drink whiskey? What would
you like? Beer?” she asked.
“Ah… I want to drink whiskey mixed with soda.”
After mixing whiskey and soda, and putting two
pieces of ice, she gave me the glass and I drank. Our
table became noisy, I didn’t know who to listen to.
Then I asked her, looking at her straight in the
face, “If I want to have sex with you, how about it?”
“Will you stay the whole night? It costs 1200 baht
and we have to go to a hotel. If you want to have sex
in my room, it costs 350 baht. My room is on the first
floor. If you want to stay in a hotel, I will arrange for it.
There are many hotels around here.”
“How much money can you earn every night?”
“It depends on the guests. Wait a minute, brother.
I will go to the other table. Just a minute.”
After five minutes, she came back and leaned on
my shoulder. “Tell me about the guests, Burmese and
Thai... Umm… Do any foreigners come here?”
“Different kinds of guests come here”, she said.
“Once, a guest, who I think is American, came here
and gave me a tip. It was a dollar. I had never seen a
dollar before. When I asked him how many baht it was
worth, he raised his one finger. I thought it meant one
thousand baths. When I showed it to my boss, she told
me it was worth approximately 250 baht,” she found it
funny and laughed.
“Continue talking.”

She then took my glass and placed more alcohol,
soda, and ice into it. She continued, “We, Burmese,
abuse each other. Some made me do things I could
not imagine myself doing. One client slapped me on
the face when I refused. And then he complained
to my boss, saying that I was very rude. He actually
was the rude one, but my boss cut my wages that
night and she banned me from working for one
week. Among Thai people, there are good and bad
ones. In this world, the story ends when you have
become good. I mean, when you’re free from life in
hell.”
And she continued, “There are small rooms made
for us on the three topmost floors.”
I asked her, “When you don’t have work, how do
you manage to live and eat?”
“My friends help me with the necessities. I borrow
money from them and when I have the money, I
return the amount to them.”
One of my friends teased me, “Now, we have an
interviewer. If you want to have sex, you can simply
tell them.”
I went on with the interview, “1200 baht for one
night. How much money do you get from that?”
“I only get 500 baht. I have to pay the monthly
rent.”
“You don’t get half of the money, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”

“Are there guests who stay with you the whole
night every day?”
“No… If I have had such guests every day, I would
have become rich enough to build a house made
of brick for my mother. I have not come back to my
village for three to four years.”
“You said earlier that you have been here for only
three months!”
“Why did you ask if you have already known that?”
After spending that night having a chitchat with
the girl, I left and went back to our hotel, but the words
she told me just before I got on the car still resonated
in my head.
“Come here tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll
be waiting at Beer Bar … waiting at Beer Bar … waiting
at Beer Bar…”
After that encounter in the Beer Bar, I became
interested in the lives of female Burmese sex workers
and researched facts to write about them. What are
their basic needs? What kind of medical treatment do
they get? Do they get health education? How is their
safety ensured? I tried to observe how International
NGOs and NGOs tackle these cases. Trafficking
of Burmese women and girls into prostitution in
Thailand is said to be a severe disease with no known
cure in Myanmar. Women and girls who fly higher
and higher cannot go back home.

When I asked an official from a women’s care
association what I wanted to know, she answered,
“We found out that there are three types of sex
workers according to our survey. One type is those
working in brothels, another is the type in “karaoke”
bars or restaurants, and the last is the type who
live together in a house or a room arranged by the
prostitution agent. They only work outside, like
in hotels and inns, when the agent received a call
requesting for a service.”
“Do they have any work permit? I mean legal
registration,” I asked.
“Some who work in brothels and bars have work
permits. The owner applies for their work permits, but
most of them work illegally as prostitutes. Actually,
both our association and other NGOs have not reached
the point of managing the cases systematically. The
associations that can give health education hold
workshops to educate them about AIDS and HIV,
the proper use of condoms, the necessity of using
a condom while having sex, etc. They distribute
educational journals and pamphlets to sex workers.
Some NGOs urge them to take a test once a week in
Mae Sot Hospital.”
“Our association helps those who want to escape
from this dark world of prostitution,” she continued.
“We bring them to our temporary shelter and look after

them. We hire experts in knitting and sewing to teach
them and put them to work in knitting and garment
factories in Mae Sot. We also provide transportation
money to those who want to return to their hometown.
For them, the law cannot protect them.”
She continued to explain about the situation
concerning with AIDS and HIV education.
“We can say that there has been some progress,
but they are not very effective. You can always see sex
workers dead from HIV before your eyes. We give
them health education that in spite of AIDS being an
incurable disease, they shouldn’t feel ashamed and
they should try to help each other psychologically.
They need to take care of each other.”
I asked, “How about cases of abuse and
exploitation of Thai police against them?” She replied,
“We haven’t heard much about such events. When we
conducted a survey, some girls said that they had some
police officers as customers. They have never had
other kinds of experience with them.”
“Let me tell you regarding my experience about
the time when human trafficking was suppressed
by Thai authorities. Most of the sex workers who
lived outside were arrested and sent to Turk District
Detention Centre. They brought one of the officials
from our association as an interpreter. The arrested
women could be charged with illegal immigration,

illegal working, and prostitution. They were not
directly associated with human trafficking, at first,
but there were some who were sold. Some of the girls
were even underage. After careful checking of Thai
authorities, they sent the three underage girls to the
penal reform institution and the rest were sent back
to Mae Sot and were charged with illegal immigration.
The prostitution agent was sent to jail.”
“I know that there are a hundred thousand
legal and illegal migrant workers and that there are
associations that help with workers’ affairs. Can they
also help out sex workers?”
“According to what I know, sex workers cannot
benefit much from these associations. They can only
cover workers’ health education measures. Rules and
regulations for sex workers are different.”
“I’d like to know your opinion on the consequences.”
“I think it is because of the economy and
administration system of a country. No girl wants to
live such life. They earn their living by doing work
they don’t like. Moreover, they struggle all their
lives as sex slaves in another country. Can we blame
them? Being away from their own country, their
parents and their relatives, their lives must be very
awful and tough.”
Such was the situation back then. That was ten
years ago.

Recently, I asked my friend about the current
situation in Mae Sot.
“It is not very different, it’s funny. Prostitution
wages has increased and drug-addicted sex workers
has also increased. There is widespread presence of
drug trade. In the afternoon, gambling with playing
cards is rampant. There has also been an increase
in the number of bars and karaoke because they
can sing Burmese songs there. Newcomers arrive
one after another. The situation of the domestic
prostitutes and those who work here are not very
different, their lives were already ruined. These are
the main differences between their current situation
and their situation ten years ago. Nowadays, they
have learned more about sex health education.
Collaboration has already been established between
associations and care homes to look after HIV and
AIDS patients. Whew… All are like that…”
I don’t want to know the meaning of what he said,
“All are like that.” I sighed, gazing at the other side
where our country, Myanmar, is situated.
I can’t say whether I miss the girl waiting for me at
Beer Bar, but I am certain, violent storms are waiting
along the path of the flying queen of the night.
Maung Lwan Ni

Run With the Rain,
Bend With the Wind,
With Whom Will You Sail?
I t never rains, but when it rains, it pours!
Our huts are flooded, the torrential rain has been

nonstop for ten continuous days now. Wat Hat Nar
Reservoir was about to burst under the weight of
water, so the water had to be discharged, and now,
the low-lying area of Mae Sot is also flooded. Those
who live in high-lying barracks are not affected
by flood, so, he who likes to fawn all over the boss
can be haughty. Just like the saying goes, “When an
elephant shrinks, it’s still a buffalo.” As for Myanmar
migrant workers who take any job that comes by, we
cannot go to work even though we were not affected
by severe flooding.
Have you ever seen huts floating on water? Due
to the flood, we cannot go to work to earn money for
a living. We cannot even have our meals regularly.
43
Feeling hungry, we hear the weary footsteps in the
water and the shouting of moneylenders asking
us to repay debts. Even at midnight, we also hear
the children’s guttural crying. Most of us are blue-
collar workers who take any job such as bricklaying,
cultivating rice paddies, and working as porter. Our
situation can’t get any worse. Even our wives have
to earn money by working as part-time housemaid,
washing clothes, selling, babysitting, or working
as door-to-door masseur. They also have to help in
providing for the family. We live from hand to mouth.
We never get to save for tomorrow.
Our wives are amazing. When they have no work
to do, they pluck the watercress growing in the fields
and they sell them in front of the factory. Their courage
goes beyond the limit. They give birth to babies one
after another and so Dr. Sinthiyar Maung’s clinic is
always very busy with the number of childbirths they
get. For them, being in bad health is a great problem
because of their poor lifestyle. But they think that
being ill, such as their children having diarrhea often,
is not unusual for them.
There are areas occupied by illegal occupants like
us in the Southeastern part of Mae Sot such as Kjwe
Chan, Yan-ma-kin, Ma-di-nar, Kukko-su, Kalar-su,
and Pauk-pin-su. We named them on our own. Let
me tell you about them. People from these areas are
always combed by the police and immigration officers

according to immigration operations and they are
often arrested and sent to jail. Those who come back
find their huts already claimed by others.
Teenagers who were raised in such families have
to become child laborers. They have only learned
how to read and write. They become waiters in
restaurants, pubs, and tea shops. They also carry
bricks in construction sites or cultivate rice paddies.
Children from poorer families have to collect empty
bottles. One night, I heard that a child collecting
empty bottles in a night club said that he wanted to
sing Banyar Han’s song with the microphone in the
night club.
They think of you as a fool when you tell them
about schools, books, and technologies and it is sure
that they would run away. It is because they have lived
and grown with poverty all their lives. Some of them
came from heartbreaking incidents. There are babies
being left in the Maung clinic just after birth, babies
given to others for adoption, or a five-year-old girl sold
for up to one thousand baht, are just some of these
cruel and bitter events. Seeing is believing, but these
events are not uncommon in Mae Sot.
There has been an enormous increase in
orphans in associations that ensure social welfare
and education in Myanmar. There have been many
children and young women rescued from human
trafficking by officials and social welfare associations.
Run With the Rain, Bend With the Wind 45

When they become adolescents, they can work in
the associations which have been looking after them.
Among the victims of human trafficking, such rescued
girls and children are very lucky and it is said to be the
good in the bad. They are sheltered and protected, and
they can have a pleasant life for a while.
The rain has stopped, but we still have to
struggle to survive. The world may be laughing at us
mockingly. The watercress field is now flooded and we
are burdened with debts. We are not expecting donors
to offer us rice rations, packets of instant noodles, and
drinking water. We have to provide for our livelihood
by all means. By lending money, interest can be gained
and by giving things, relatives can be earned, yet our
debts cannot be paid by anyone but us.
The election in Thailand was successfully held.
We, Myanmar migrant workers, are not interested
which party wins or loses in the election and we are
not concerned with the candidate winning the Thai
Prime Minister position. Those who always listen to
the radio say that the new government should gather
workers’ grievances and offer a solution, ensure that
workers get their wage regularly, reduce the price of
work permit, and guarantee that mobile phones are
sold at a low price. But only a few people are interested
in Thai politics. No one wants to know the difference
between the elections in Thailand and Myanmar. Last

year, my wife, Pauk Sa, went back to her village to give
birth. She was given three hundred kyat to vote in
the election, but she did not cast her vote. When she
could not pay taxes, she went back to me with our one-
month-old infant. She did not have a choice.
We have to watch the politicians. Critics say that
Yingluck Government is expected to implement their
promises during the election campaign. Those who
want to know if the government will grant an amnesty
for former Prime Minister Thaksin may be the ones
who dream of U Thein Sein Government declaring
amnesty again.
One of my neighbors told his wife that Thaksin’s
sister from Yingluck promised in her election
campaign to provide one laptop per schoolchild,
to give medical treatment per person with 30 baht
according to her brother’s health care scheme, to
create job opportunities, to increase the opportunities
for migrant workers, and to help with the refugees’
affairs, and so Yingluck has won the election. While
washing the paint on his hand with water in a basin,
he continues, “My boss says that Thai economy will
grow again and it is sure that new governments of
Thailand and Myanmar are going to open the border
gates, so, we will continue to stay in these barracks
and your daughter will not have to work in Yan-ma-kin
factory again.’’
Run With the Rain, Bend With the Wind 47

His wife replied, “If there is a good politician, tell
me. They all have the same habit of only taking care
of us before the elections. Is there a day when your
hands are not washed? Even if you wash them today,
they will be dirty again with paint tomorrow. Don’t tell
me meaningless words.” Laughter burst out from the
neighbors.
Time passes by quickly. I pass the time by listening
to people’s conversations at the barracks, by sitting in
the tea shop. In the tea shop, some people are asking
when the Premier League football match will begin
and a man with a handphone is proudly telling others
that the illegal lottery seller has already moved to
another house.
There is a saying, ‘’Run with the rabbit, hunt with
the dog.’’ Us, undocumented migrant workers, who
earn a living in another country, we all have to run
with the rain, bend with the wind, and keep on sailing
with anybody.
Kyaw Thet Htwe

Other Side of the
Border Line
I t is the early morning hour with a hazy atmosphere.

On the Myawaddy- Mae Sot Road on the Thai-
Myanmar border, a woman carries a vegetable tray on
her head while grabbing a child by the hand, rushing
towards Mae Sot market. Walking quickly helps her to
bear the cold and feel warm. She will not get any place
to sell the vegetables if she gets into the market late, so
she walks very quickly.
“Mom, I feel cold… And I’m also hungry,” a
six-year-old boy wearing a fading school uniform
complained to her repeatedly. Her eyes are now
turning misty with tears.
“Do you feel cold, my son?” she sadly said with a
voice stricken with grief.
Day in and day out, she sells the vegetables at
Mae Sot Market to make money for her family. She
provides for them with great difficulty. Even now that
49
the winter is about to come to an end, she still can’t
afford to buy a sweater for her youngest son. Today,
she has decided to buy the child a sweater at the cost of
ten baht. They have to spend money frugally for a day
to buy this sweater. She and her son are now walking
quickly because of the cold.
“Mom, can you buy snacks for me when we arrive
there?”
“Yes, I would, my son,” replied the mother with
sorrow. Actually, she has no money to buy snacks
for her son when they get there. After selling the
vegetables, she will get some money and buy snacks
for him.
By selling vegetables in the morning, she can earn
35 to 40 baht. To buy snacks for her son, she has to
spend 5 baht and there may be at most 30 baht left.
Exchanging Thai baht with Myanmar kyat, she can get
1000 kyat. When she is back home, she will buy rice
and cooking oil and then give pocket money to her two
children attending primary school. She has to reserve
100 to 200 kyat in case of health emergency.
Her husband went to Bangkok. She has not heard
anything from him since. She is lost in thought. Now,
her family lives in a hut. The hut is wide enough for
only five people to sleep. They rent it for 5000 kyat
a month. She usually makes money by gathering
watercress and other vegetables in the field near the
hut. She sells them at Mae Sot Market.

She can now see Mae Sot Market at a distance.
As soon as she has arrived at the market, she put
down her vegetable tray at the same place where she
used to sell vegetables. She took a rest for a while. It is
about 6:30 am.
“My son, sit down close to me if you feel cold,” she
said after seeing her son shivering with cold.
Shortly after she has put down the tray, she sold
two bunches of watercress and she got 5 baht. After
selling for 30 minutes, she already has 35 baht.
Her son told her that he feels hungry, so she went
to buy Mohinga soup. They then had Mohinga for
breakfast. They stirred it with the rice they carried
from home.
Unexpectedly, the vendors ran in haste along the
street. They were all carrying their trays, shouting
“Tawmoung (Thai Immigration) is coming”. People
were scurrying. Sudden arrival of Tawmoung throws
all into total confusion. It is Thai Immigration that
chase vendors who sell goods without license. The
vehicle of Thai Immigration stopped in front of
them. She didn’t know what to do. An official then
told her to get on. She did not understand. Those
arrested explained to her. She got on the vehicle. Her
heart skipped a beat. She is really worried about her
children. She left them home. She is very worried
about her youngest son.
“Where’s my son?”
Other Side of the Border Line 51

She shoved those who are getting on to the car.
She moved to look for her son.
“My son was left alone! My son… My son…”
The car is now moving far from the market.
In the evening, Mae Sot Market remained as busy as

before. Behind the vendors on the busy street, there is
a child still sitting. In front of him, there is a tray with
five bunches of water cress. He is gazing at the place
where her mother was taken.
“I want to go home to play with my brother and
sister. Mom has not come back. For a whole day, I have
only had Mohinga soup with Mom. I’m feeling very
hungry.”
“It has been a long time. Mom has not come yet.”
He is worried for his mother. The sun has gone
down to the edge of the horizon.
The child with a vegetable tray is still sitting
there. His eyes had a distant faraway look, like a sailor
staring out to sea.
Ko Zan

Baby Doll’s Mom
A t sunset, the orange-yellow sun continued to

creep its way down the green fields. Gazing
at the sun which goes to sleep every evening, I felt
a yearning for something. I have never missed my
hometown this much.
Hearing the crying of my baby son in the cradle,
my thoughts stopped. It is beginning to be cold in the
winter now. While breastfeeding my baby, I picked
up the coarse cotton blanket near me and wrapped
it around me. I can see the candlelight from the
surrounding huts. I lit a short leftover candle from
yesterday. A peaceful aura flowed on me after seeing
my son sucking milk without restraint. I feel as if a
whole day’s tiredness disappeared. Sucking milk and
with his hand on my breast, he fell asleep.
Tonight, I am going to drink watercress soup for
dinner. My boss said that my earned wages for today
53
will be paid tomorrow, so I plucked watercress from
the field. I picked up three or four small branches of
watercress and boiled them. In case of emergency, I
have to keep 20 baht in reserve. I dare not buy rice
to cook.
I ate the boiled-water cress with fish paste sauce.
It is more bearable than eating nothing. I put my
son down to sleep beside me. I felt sleepy too. I
brought the coarse cotton blanket and wrapped it
over us, but I can’t sleep. There are so many things
to think about.
My husband has gone to work in Bangkok two
months ago to save money for our son’s future but
I have not heard from him since. He told me that he
had to go to Bangkok via an unofficial route. I have
no idea whether he arrived in Bangkok without a
problem or not and if he is okay. I am worried about
my husband.
I dare not wean my baby, although he is nine
months old because I have nothing else to feed him.
I want him to be well-nourished. No one else can take
care of my baby, so I have to plant rice while carrying
him on my back. He also basks in the hot sun together
with me when I work. In the afternoon, I put him to
sleep in the cradle in the field hut. Thinking on and
on, I can’t sleep.

The sudden crying of my son cuts off my thoughts.
I tried to put him to sleep again by breastfeeding him
but he could not sleep. I could feel the thud of my
heartbeat. My baby! How hot his body was! When I
touched him, I felt that he was running a high fever.
I have just noticed it now. I don’t know what to do.
How agitated I am! I have no medical knowledge. I
gave him a sponge bath with a diaper soaked in water,
and try to bring his temperature down. My baby is
weeping incessantly. I don’t know how to buy Thai
medicine. I can’t speak Thai. I only have 20 baht left
in my hand. What shall I do? Ah… I remember! I have
traditional Burmese medicine kept since we have been
in Myanmar, Sayar Mg’s fever medication. I will treat
him with this medicine. I think his body temperature
will subside.
His temperature has dropped a little and my son
stopped crying. I felt relieved and fell asleep. I was
suddenly woken up by the cold touch on my hand.
My son!
I lit the candle and looked at him worryingly. My
son… My son! Oh... His lips are dull blue and his
body is cold. “Help me! Help me! My son, my son!”
Carrying my son in my arms, I rushed out of my hut
to ask for help from the surrounding huts. I ran to Ko
Hla Maung’s hut.
Baby Doll’s Mom 55

“Ko Hla Maung, look at my son.”
“What happened to your son, Mi Chan?”
“My son’s body is very cold. His lips are dull blue.
I don’t know what happened. Help me. I don’t know
what to do. My son, wake up and suck milk. Oh, my
son! He doesn’t even cry. My son! My son!”
“Show me your son. What’s wrong? Oh! He is
dead!”
“What are you saying? My son cried just a little
while ago. He’s still alive. My son, wake up. Suck milk.
What a pity, my son! My son has not passed away. My
son! My son!”
“Calm down, Mi Chan.”
“Ko Hla Maung, I have no money for a funeral. I
want to offer meals to monks for my son.”
“Hmm… Bury your son’s body under your hut for
the meantime and then go to your relatives in Mae
Sot, ask them for some money. And then return here
to offer food to monks for alms and make merit to
your son.”
On the highway, there is a bus running in the

fields. In one of the many buses, there are only five
passengers. Among them, there is a thirty-year-old
woman grasping more than a thousand baht in her

hand. In her mind, she wants to get to her hut as
soon as possible. She worked in a construction site
and saved enough money. She had been there for one
month.
“How slow the bus runs! I want to get to my
hut soon! When I arrive, I will bury my son’s body
properly. I will invite my neighbors, I will offer alms
to monks and pray for my son not to have misfortune
like that in his future existence and to be in a better
one.” With this train of thought, the woman held her
money tightly again.
As soon as she got off the bus, the woman seems
dazed. She is gazing at the field. It is now an open
field, filled with earth.
“ Where’s my hut? Or Ko Hla Maung’s hut? An

open field... An open field... My son... My son...
Where’s my son? Where’s my hut? My son... My son!”
cried the woman.
She ran across the field with money buried deep in
her fist. She dug the places where the hut could have
been only with her hand. The next day, she was found
in this open field weeping and smiling.
In Mae Sot Highway bus terminal, there is a woman

who is always seen carrying a baby doll in her arms.
Baby Doll’s Mom 57

She talks to the doll incessantly. She does not know, or
perhaps care, whether it is sunny or rainy. Sometimes,
she can be seen attempting to bottle-feed and lull the
baby doll to sleep.
She can be seen crying one time, and laughing the
next. It seems as if life does not affect her. How could
she be casual about the torment and sufferings of life?
Ko Zan

Dream Lost in Life
“Z zzzzzz… Chuka, chuka, chuka… Zzzzzzz…”
Clothed by the loud and repetitive sound of sewing

machines, I, Hnin, earn my living. Though I am not
new in Mae Sot, I have worked in this factory for
only one month. I kept working hard in this garment
factory despite difficult challenges. I am resolute and
determined to do anything in order to provide for my
family. Nothing would stop me from trying to reach
my dreams. And to keep myself motivated, I always try
to remember the reasons why I had to leave my family
in the first place, even though it breaks my heart...
Since my childhood, I have always been fantasizing
of becoming rich someday and taking good care of my
family. I am the eldest sister among five siblings. My
father was a government employee, but my father’s
salary was not enough to provide for the whole family.
59
My mother is a housewife. As the eldest, I helped my
mother with the housework. I was just a child when my
mother got pregnant with her third child and I had to
take care of my younger brother on behalf of my mother.
I still need to go to school after doing house chores.
When I was mature enough to know things, my
mother’s face was already wrinkled. I had not seen her
wearing her earrings for a long time. My parents do
not have wedding photos, but from what I remember,
she just had those earrings given as a wedding gift. My
mother rarely wore those earrings because she had to
pawn them very often. Aside from those earrings, my
parents’ only treasures are us, me and my siblings.
That’s why I love my parents very much.
My father sent all of us to school when we were
old enough. My mother urged us repeatedly to study
hard, very hard, to be educated and become rich in the
future. We always saw the grim determination on our
mother’s face whenever she brought us to school.
Since my father lost his job as a government
employee, he started working at a factory. My father
was paid poorly. Sometimes, my mother would earn
extra money by selling scrap which my father had
illegally brought from the factory. Whenever she
sold the scrap, she brought me to the market while
grabbing my hand. I felt very happy because this
meant my mother would cook chicken curry and buy

snacks for us. She always allocate money she got for
our school expenses and groceries for the family. She
would buy stationaries for us. My parents always urged
us to study hard and try to lead our lives successfully to
provide for the family, so I made up my mind to earn a
lot of money and to support my family someday.
While we were attending school, my father had to
struggle incessantly for the family. My mother’s fine
clothes and earrings had to be pawned often to support
our education.
My siblings and I felt unhappy whenever my
mother went to pawn her earrings, like we lost a
precious thing of our own. Sometimes, my mother
would even force me to take off my earrings, which
they had bought for me as birthday present, and then
she would pawn them. I would be cross with her
but also felt very sorry. As time went by, it became a
familiar scenario and our lives just became harder and
harder until we had no more tears to offer.
When I was on my final year at the University
of Distance Education, my father retired from work
and was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease.
My youngest brother died in a car crash while he
was returning home after buying medicines for my
mother. One of my brothers eloped with his girlfriend.
My twin sisters passed the matriculation exam
with high marks, but we had to make a difficult
Dream lost in Life 61

decision. We planned to send the twins to the
university, so naturally, as the eldest sibling, I had
to work to earn money for the family. My father also
had to work again at a private factory of his colleague
as a night watchman. My father also serviced cars
in this factory. I, on the other hand, had decided to
work at a garment factory near our ward because I
had no special vocational skill. I only had academic
knowledge. At first, I learned sewing at a tailor shop.
I did it for a month. I haven’t learned pattern making
and cutting at that time.
After that, I got a job at a garment factory with
the help of my mother’s friend. I worked as a helper.
There, I had to endure the high-handed attitude of
the supervisors and operators. Workers did not help
each other, instead they treated each other rudely.
This would make me cry, and whenever I came
back home, I told my bad experiences at work to my
mother. Those days were very terrible for me. The
owner of the factory forced us to work more than
regular working hours and neglected to provide
appropriate factory facilities.
Later on I became a machine operator. But I still
argued and quarrelled with the supervisors and signed
pledges in the manager’s office. I moved from one
factory after another, so much so that I became used to
it. My mother prepared my lunchbox in the morning

and sent me to my car ferry. In the evening, she would
wait for me at the bus stop. Her support and caring
always gave me strength.
Desperately struggling like that, my father became
ill and had to give up work altogether. Expenses for
my two sisters attending the university has increased,
forcing them to work as tutors to students who are
about to take the matriculation exam. I thought of
other ways to earn more money. But I did not know
what to do because I only had skills in sewing and the
degree I earned which was not useful to earn a living.
Pondering on this, I felt worried. One day, my
colleague, Khin Mar Tin told me that her sister was
working in a garment factory in Mae Sot and her
salary was about a hundred thousand kyat. Telling
me that she would be working there in the coming
month, I got interested in it and asked her if I could
tag along with her to work. She approved and told
me I need to give her sister my salary on the first
month as gratuity. I agreed. When I told my mother
about it, she was very happy. She thought that it
would be good for our family. My father had no
objection to the plan.
When I arrived at Mae Sot, I got a job at the
garment factory. As soon as I worked in the factory, I
saw that the textile workers in Mae Sot had different
lifestyles. In a Mae Sot garment factory, there are

supervisors called wunta. They get along with the
manager and owner of the factory.
There is a great number of workers, women and
men, who have mobile phones. They said that in Mae
Sot, a mobile phone can be bought for 500 baht and a
phone SIM card, for 50 baht. We can call to Myanmar
using this phone and the call only costs 10 baht per
minute. How wonderful that would be!
In our country, Myanmar, mobile phones can
only be bought and used by the rich and calls are
expensive. Making a phone call to other countries
costs more than ten thousand kyat. In the first month,
I got a salary of two thousand baht. I bought a phone.
When I had started to use it, I felt very satisfied and
pleased. I thought that it would be very good if I could
buy a mobile phone like that for every member of my
family. I always remember my family even when I’m
daydreaming.
“When I get my salary next month, I will send
them money,” I decided then.
Within the first two months of my stay in Mae
Sot, I knew more about the lives of Mae Sot garment
factory workers. At first, I was expecting that they
will be united and will help each other for they are
colleagues working in another country.
In our factory, there are hostels for workers, hostel
for male workers and the other for female workers. At

first, the hostel was for all workers, both for women
and men. Later, a separate hostel was made available
for women. In the other hostel, single males and
married ones have to live together. I stayed in the
women’s hostel.
In the hostel, we have to live in rooms partitioned
with just cloth curtains. We can cook curry in the
hostel, but most of us just bought curry to eat. We
were given steamed rice by the factory. It was very
convenient for us. But if we were late to get steamed
rice when it is was handed out, we will not get
anything. There were so many problems regarding
rice rations. Some would throw rice out in anger, after
getting only one cup of rice in spite of asking for two.
Some who got nothing would ask others for some rice.
Such people were seen here. I was one of those people.
Many other bad things happened in our hostel.
Though it is the women’s hostel, men can visit it and
sometimes they stay here through the night. I hate
that despite calling themselves singles, some women
live together with men in the hostel. I sometimes had
to face men who raise the curtain to enter my room
while I am putting my clothes on after taking bath.
They would get out saying “Sorry” as I shout at them.
And because it is just cloth curtains that separate
the rooms, on many days, I needed to cover my ears
to prevent myself from hearing the overly familiar

unpleasant sounds – sounds coming from couples
who didn’t bother to keep their intimacy discreet.
This is where different kinds of love affairs can
be found. There are those who fell in love just by
calling each other on the phone, got married, and
after a while, they got divorced. There are those who
are guilty of adultery and those who marry one woman
after another in each and every factory. There are also
those people who borrow money and then run away to
work in another factory without returning the money.
Despite my short stay there, I gained different
experiences at work. Our daily wage were counted
off by the number of dozens of clothes that we were
able to sew. We need to write down the number of
clothes we sewed. The list were sometimes taken by
others by force. We faced the possibility of a day’s
wage for fifteen hours going to others’ pockets. In
our work, those who can make embroidery stitching
can get more wages than others, so that is why most
of us want to use a sewing machine for embroidery.
But these sewing machines were used only by those
who were favored by the supervisor. To get more
wages, many workers tried to get this work. For them,
it made no sense in sharing with each despite being
colleagues. They try to get as much money as much
as they could and they want other people’s property as
well. I was very disappointed.

Among Myanmar migrant workers, Thai
supervisors would favor those who can speak Thai, and
they will not stand with the workers. When you’re a
worker and you get sick, you are only allowed one day
of sick leave. If you get sick again, then you will be fired.
We worked in that place sixteen hours a day and we
have only one day off in a month. We were all very tired.
It is all good though, if you come to think of it, because
the more we work, the more money we would get, but
in reality, no money is left over at the end of the month.
Most Myanmar migrant workers do not have legal
documents and work permits. The same goes for me,
and workers would be often extorted money by the
police. A week after I had started to work in the factory,
the workers were in uproar. The Bangkok police staged
a raid in the factory and those who were arrested
were sent to jail and then shipped-off to Myanmar.
Some people said that we needed to be punished. At
that time, I whispered my prayers while daring not
to breathe. Later on, the owner of the factory stopped
operating the factory and told the workers without
legal documents to leave the factory. I had to run away
with my friends, but we were lucky because we were
not arrested by the police.
My friends would say that such events always
occur here. I can still remember those days after
getting my salary, it was a holiday and workers

would go to the market to buy things and also to
transfer money to their family in Myanmar. On
those kind of days, police would be waiting for
undocumented migrant workers to catch. One of
my friends had to give up to a police officer all the
money she had when she was caught. As for me, I
hardly go out and I usually send money through my
friends. In the factory, the owner favor those who
have work permit. Workers without work permit,
like me, always feel inferior.
Although I kept working for a garment factory and
earn money from it, I don’t like the work, but I haven’t
found any better work. While living frugally, I would
send half of my salary to my family and would save
the remaining half. This is because I wanted to open
a tailor shop at my home one day, and once I had the
money to open a tailor shop, I would want to return
home. When I pondered about this, it gave me just
enough of strength to face the day.
Now, it has been more than a year since I began
working in Mae Sot. I have met different kinds of
people as well as challenges. I have learned that men
quarrel with women and abuse them. I have become
used to it. I have also saved some money and I am
getting nearer and nearer to my dream of returning
home, until one letter arrived and brought me back
to reality…

“Hnin, your guest is waiting for you at the gate.
Go and see her.” my friend said. I stopped eating
and started walking to the gate. At the gate, Htar
Nwe, the younger sister of Ko Thet Aung who lives
in our neighborhood, stood there waiting for me.
Upon seeing me, she handed me an envelope and
told me that she has just arrived at Mae Sot early
morning to buy some goods. As she will return to
Myanmar the next day, I can give her whatever I
want to send to my family. She promised to return
and take it to my family.
It was my mother’s hand writing on the envelope,
I tore it and started reading the letter.
The ink on the letter stated, “Mi Hnin, your father
had a massive stroke and it left his right side of the
body paralyzed. I am also in bad health, my blood
pressure is not normal and may suffer a heart attack.
Your younger sisters have to help to treat your father.
They cannot attend their classes. We have to spend a
lot of money for your father’s health and commodity
prices continue to increase. Our family just relies on
the money you give me every two months and on your
younger sisters’ salaries from tutoring students taking
the matriculation exams. This is not enough for your
father’s health expenses. You need to give the money
you have saved to me through Ma Htar. We really
need money. I want you to send more money to us.

You have to find a better job. You have been there for a
year. Don’t forget that your parents are not rich. Don’t
live the way others do. You must know it by now. Take
care of your health. You are not a child anymore, you
should try getting along with the others. I always pray
for you.”
The letter is clear and short. I felt depressed and
very miserable upon reading it. My dream of opening
a big tailor shop had disappeared upon reading my
mother’s letter. Everything I was planning for my
family now seemed like a distant dream. I can’t help
but cry but I try to fight back the tears in my eyes.
I decided to give my savings, everything that I have
saved, to my mother. Then I pressed the pedal of the
sewing machine with full force.
NayNiNi

“Never Return
to Bangkok”
T he miserable silence of the night made me feel

sad and depressed. I am now in Room 42, on the
4th floor of Pak Kret Hospital and upon looking at my
husband who is lying unconscious in bed, I cannot
help but sigh.
Sitting on a bench near the wall, my thoughts
flashed back to the events last Sunday. That day,
unforeseen bad luck came to me.
That day was a holiday, as usual, my husband
drank alcohol with his colleagues. There are ten
workers in the factory where we work. Except for my
husband and me, the other workers have been working
there for many years. The work is not laborious,
we make varieties of paper boxes and trophies and
smooth them with sandpaper.
I had to neglect my husband’s drinking habit, I
could not stop him from drinking alcohol. It is not
71
wrong to say that the cause of our bad luck is my
husband. One day, he drank alcohol and fell asleep
without having lunch. I told him to have dinner in
the evening, but he did not and slept once more. In
our small room, the heat and the smell of alcohol
and his sweat made me drowsy and brought on a
headache.
I had prepared dinner for him to have when he
got up and then, I went to sleep with a Kayin woman
next door. As a habit, I got up early in the morning,
made my bed without waking her, and went to my
room. When I looked in my room, my husband was
not there and thinking that he took a bath, I washed
the cooking pot, cleaned the untidy room quickly, and
then I warmed the leftover curry for breakfast.
Even when I had finished doing the chores, he
had not come back. I felt worried for him, so I ran and
looked for him in the bathroom and in the toilet, but
he was nowhere to be found. He was not in the empty
rooms downstairs. I went to look for him in the storage
room, it is where old and unused stuff are placed.
There, I found him suffering from an uncontrollable
contraction of his muscles, showing the white of his
eyes. I asked other workers for help and we carried
him to one of the empty rooms. I cleaned him, he
was very dirty with his urine and feces. All these I did
while scolding him.

That morning, our boss’ confidant, Sony (Taut
Ni in Myanmar) sent my husband to hospital. As
soon as my husband was transferred to stretcher,
the factory’s car went off, but Sony stayed behind in
the hospital.
Sony showed that he really is the boss’ confidant.
As per the instruction of the boss, Sony told the
medical superintendent of the hospital that he was
just a neighbor who helped us, we have not been in
Bangkok, from Mae Sot, for very long, and he also said
that we did not have any job. My husband was on the
stretcher on his back and his uncontrollable arms and
legs were tied with steel chains.
After having a blood test, an X-ray and the
diagnosis, a nurse called and told Sony and I that
medical fees and the oxygen for my husband would
cost nearly ten thousand baht per day and if we took
him back home, he would not be alive. She also told
us patiently that if they started to give him oxygen, it
must not be taken off. It could only be taken off when
his breathing had become regular.
I couldn’t afford ten thousand baht per day to keep
my husband alive. When I discussed with Sony to take
my husband back the factory, he did not agree with
me. He knew what the boss would say.
Sony said to me, “Don’t be depressed, my boss told
me not to neglect you.” So, I agreed to give oxygen to
“Never Return to Bangkok” 73

my husband, but Sony misled the doctor by providing
the wrong address. As we did not need to watch my
husband, we returned to the factory by taxi. In the taxi,
I asked Sony, “Doesn’t your boss know it would cost a
lot?” He replied, “Yes, of course. If your husband died
in the factory, there would be a problem.”
My boss sending my husband to the hospital was
not because of her generosity. I did not think she
would pay the hospital.
One day, Sony took me to the boss. When we
arrived at the boss’ office, she told me that I did not
need to go to the hospital because my husband does
not have a chance to live anymore. If he had a stroke,
he would be sent to the place where the disabled live.
If he went mad, he would be sent to the psychiatric
hospital. If he died, the hospital would cremate him.
Sony translated what the boss said to me. I smiled
weakly, I now understand what was going on. I told
her to give me time to consider and I left her office
with my head hanging down.
My husband does not have any history of morally
unacceptable behavior except drinking. I have never
heard of him being angry or having a fight with others
even when he was extremely drunk. He was very helpful
to others and he has never taken advantage of others.
Before my husband was sent to the hospital, he
used to drink a lot with his friends during holidays.

At that time, he was not ill. His friends who drank
together with him that day said that he only drank a
bottle of M-150. I wanted to blame him when I thought
about his treatment costs, but I could never neglect
him when he is in trouble.
We receive four thousand baht per month as
salary and we had worked in this factory for only
seven months, workers who have worked for eight
or nine years can earn about ten thousand baht. With
Bangkok’s commodity prices, our salary is only a little
in excess. Our excess money is not enough for our two
children who are attending middle school in Myanmar.
Saying that she would increase the salary after
Thingyan, our boss asked us to write three hundred
baht per day on residence form. I agreed to her request
because I had decided to go back to Mae Sot and earn
our living near Myanmar if she would not increase our
salary after Thingyan.
Moreover, the cost of each passport was twenty
thousand baht. Our boss said that she would cut
one thousand baht per month from our salary for
the cost of passports and we had to sign a contract
for two years of employment. When the contract
expired, she would give us our passports. We told
her that we could not afford to apply for a passport
with our current salary. She still kept silent about
the salary increase.
“Never Return to Bangkok” 75

The next day, Sony did not come along with me to
the hospital because the boss did not allow him. I felt
annoyed. Depressed because of money, I had no one
to help me, I was getting in a fix.
Our close friends gave me money as much as they
can. An eighteen-year-old guy, Babu, pitied us when
he had known of our situation. He had just recently
started working in our factory, but he asked for cash
from nearby Myanmar for us. Although I did not ask
help from him, he did it on his own.
I used to be too shy to get help from others, but
when faced with difficulty, I could not help but ask for
others’ assistance. Some friends of my boss pretended
as if they did not know.
My boss knew that I did not get along with the
doctors because I could not speak Thai language. She
believed that I would not go to the hospital after one
or two days, she seemed very scared to pay for the
medical bills.
They tried to act irresponsibly in the absence of
authority with the affairs of the workers. It is true, they
attempted to avoid their responsibility as employers.
I suddenly remembered a friend who is from
Nepal, her name is Dudakar. Her parents lived in
Kalay, Chin State, Myanmar when she was an infant.
Dudakar and her husband, Kuma, sell fried stuffed
pastry or samosa and other Burmese food on the

pavement, outside the market near our factory. We
were not very close friends.
I just recognized her face through our frequent
encounters. One day, while buying samosa from her,
I told her what happened to us. Not only she and
her husband, Kuma, but also Kuma’s brother who
recently came to visit here from Nepal, helped us
wholeheartedly. I now call Dudaka as Tutha.
They came along with me to the hospital and met
with the medical superintendent of the hospital to ask
for help for my husband. The medical superintendent
has a pure heart. She told us that my husband had
the symptoms of a lung disease, so she advised that
my husband should neither drink nor smoke and that
my husband had to take medicines for six months for
prevention because the disease has started to spread.
She told us to ask for money for medical fees as much
as we can. After three days, my husband regained
consciousness. He was moved from the emergency
room to a special room upstairs because he does not
need to be given oxygen anymore.
Knock… Knock… Knock…
I didn’t realize I was miles away until I heard the
knocking on the door. I lost my train of thought. A
hospital staff carrying a food tray entered the room.
He placed the tray on the table near the bed and went
out. The food in the tray seem edible, and delicious as
Never Return to Bangkok 77

well. They try to serve different food to patients. I serve
my husband food from the hospital and also food from
Tutha. He is getting fit and stronger now because of all
the nutritious food.
Now that my husband is about to be discharged
from the hospital, Tutha went to meet with our boss.
Tutha can speak four languages – English, Hindi,
Shan, and Burmese. She fluently asked our boss in
Thai language to give us a little for medical fees. But
instead, our boss fired us both for allegedly telling her
bad manners to others. She even broke the lock of our
room and threw out our things, which we have bought
with our own money, into a rubbish heap. She had the
right to break the lock of the room because she owns
it, but she should not throw our belongings. I am so
furious, I am only trying to control my anger with my
experience and age.
Before my husband was discharged, Tutha met
with the medical superintendent and paid as much
as we can for the medical bills. She resolved my
difficulties. Just before coming out of the hospital,
two nurses came to me and gave shirts and trousers
for my husband and a little money for me. I am
very happy and I wonderfully praise them for their
noble manners. Happiness and sadness which I
felt at the same time filled my eyes with tears. The
good and the bad are still balanced in my life. It is

the consequence of the deeds I have done in the
past. After coming out of the hospital, we stayed in
Kumar’s room for a while. They also said that they
will help us if we continue to work in Bangkok, but
we don’t want to live here. We have decided to return
to Mae Sot. They gave us ticket fees and meals to
have on our way back home. They are not rich and
they only earn a living by selling samosa beside the
road. They are also pure Nepalese.
We got a couple of seats in a double-decker bus
going to Mae Sot. Dudaka, Kuma, and his brother saw
us off at the bus terminal. They stood to wait until the
bus went off. I returned their wave when the bus left
and tears rolled down my cheeks. They were left behind.
The bus began running at full speed. I think as if
the scenic beauty of the night in Bangkok is laughing
at me. It was a struggle for me to live there, so I felt
very bitter towards Bangkok. I came to this city full of
hope and now, I’m leaving with many difficulties and
failures, but I absolutely have no regrets about it.
Things which came to my vision disappeared in
the twinkle of an eye. My husband, who is in luck and
given another chance to live, is eating one grape after
another, picking them off one by one from the bunch
given by Tutha. He is sitting in silence.
Mu Mu Kyi (ThaNatPin)
Never Return to Bangkok 79

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Tales of the Other Side

Asia Monitor Resource Centre

The Yaung Chi Oo Workers’ Association

Copyright © 2019 Asia Monitor Resource Centre

After gaining independence from the British on January

2 Tales of the Other Side

4 Tales of the Other Side

W hen I left the barracks at 6 am, the whole sky

6 Tales of the Other Side

A Photo Had Not Been Taken 7

8 Tales of the Other Side

A Photo Had Not Been Taken 9

10 Tales of the Other Side

Kyaw Thet Htwe

A Photo Had Not Been Taken 11

M ae Sot Market is bustling with migrant workers

14 Tales of the Other Side

The Broken Mirror Pieces of the Future 15

I have gotten lost in reading about others’ lives, having

16 Tales of the Other Side

“P lease give me some money.”

Hearing that, I almost choked while downing

18 Tales of the Other Side

Small Mute Bells 19

20 Tales of the Other Side

I t is early in the morning.

Thinking of searching for a job, I walk with a

22 Tales of the Other Side

Love Created with Clouds 23

24 Tales of the Other Side

Love Created with Clouds 25

26 Tales of the Other Side

Love Created with Clouds 27

28 Tales of the Other Side

Love Created with Clouds 29

I’m in good health and everything is fine. I’m

I wanted to tell her so much more, but my lack of

30 Tales of the Other Side

Love Created with Clouds 31

Nya Nay Nyan

32 Tales of the Other Side

I used to enjoy nights in Mae Sot. When passing

34 Tales of the Other Side

I Will Be Waiting at the Beer Bar 35

36 Tales of the Other Side

I Will Be Waiting at the Beer Bar 37

38 Tales of the Other Side

I Will Be Waiting at the Beer Bar 39

40 Tales of the Other Side

I Will Be Waiting at the Beer Bar 41

42 Tales of the Other Side

I t never rains, but when it rains, it pours!

Our huts are flooded, the torrential rain has been

44 Tales of the Other Side

Run With the Rain, Bend With the Wind 45

46 Tales of the Other Side

Run With the Rain, Bend With the Wind 47

Kyaw Thet Htwe

48 Tales of the Other Side

I t is the early morning hour with a hazy atmosphere.

50 Tales of the Other Side

Other Side of the Border Line 51

In the evening, Mae Sot Market remained as busy as