I (that is, the frequent poster for this account, Claire) have just gotten back to the world of internet and fast cars, after spending a full month learning about Buddhism and meditation in a series of increasingly remote Thai temples. Wat Tam Pha Noi, a smallish temple, is fairly isolated: in the mountains about 10km from the Burmese border as the crow flies and no way to get in or out unless you have a motorcycle or rickety pickup truck.
The Abbot of this temple has an in-depth relationship with the Shan village directly below the temple. The Shan are a Tai ethnic group, most often found in Burma, where, as in Thailand, they are considered second-class citizens. As with indigenous and minority groups everywhere, the Shan are isolated, denied privileges (like the ubiquitous Thai ID card required for legal work and education in Thailand), and treated as illegal immigrants in countries they have lived in for years.
The Shan village directly below Wat Tam Pha Noi has no power lines. They don’t really have running water; their water comes from a nearby sink, which is full of pesticide runoff from the lychee plantations surrounding the area. As they have no ID cards, they cannot work at a gas station or a supermarket. Instead, they are forced to work mostly as day labourers, doing fruit picking or construction for ten to twelve hours a day in the broiling sun…for the standard rate of 100 baht a day. That’s about $3.50. A DAY. They eat a lot of crap food, because that’s what they can afford, and they have no hope of excellent medical care — they are isolated, hardy, and mostly incredibly cheerful.
Wat Tam Pha Noi’s Abbot hires the Shan whenever he needs work done, at three times their normal daily rate (300 baht a day is still only about $10). He lets them use the temple’s grounds to plant fruit that they can sell, which gives them further income. He supports them in any way that he can. In return, when Burmese drug smugglers try to cut through the temple grounds at 2am with packages of methamphetamines, the Shan pop up the hill with semi-automatic weaponry. It’s a reciprocal agreement.
Hanging around with the Shan and seeing the way they’re treated made me really, really angry. It’s the same old anger: just by virtue of being indigenous, here is a group of people that Thailand would like to forget exists. In a country that has an indoor Lamborghini shop in a mall in Bangkok, that is clawing itself up along the register of capitalism, indigenous people of all types (including the well-publicized Hill Tribe peoples) are relegated to animal-like tourist attraction, when they are thought of at all. Chiang Mai is full of tours to go see the Hill Tribe Villages or peruse authentic Shan handicrafts. If you’re not on a tourist route, as Wat Tam Pha Noi’s Shan village is not, mostly, you live in incredible hardship.
I know it’s just another sad story of indigenous suppression in a developing country. In some ways, it makes me happy that more developed countries have advanced to the point where native people have voices and can fight. But they are still hamstrung by enforced ignorance, lack of access to resources, and unfair policies treating them as less-than-citizens. It could make you so outraged that you wouldn’t have space for anything in your life but ire. And yet moving forward means we can’t be angry all the time. The Shan are actually pretty cheerful. They’re doing what they can to move forward, without getting so bogged down in anger that they can’t function. It’s such a fine line: being just angry enough to do something, without poisoning your mind or being counterproductive.
My ruminations are partly based on IsumaTV’s project Digital Indigenous Democracy going live — designed to link Inuit communities that would be impacted by Baffinland’s Mary River mine proposal, and provide them with enough information to make informed decisions, communicate, and maybe, fight back. I love this idea. I’d like to see more of it, for everyone.
Knowledge is power.