New Taigress

Shan Culture - Social Life

The Shan community: A journey into a forgotten world.

Monday, April 13, 2009 at 2:53pm

In the far north of Thailand on the Burmese border straddling the foothills of the Himalayas you can find Moungchoum school. This remote village school remains shrouded in mist morning through to midday, sitting against a stunning backdrop of mountains and pasture. This is where we found ourselves poised to teach English to local children in January 2009. We were posted here as part of The Blood Foundations ongoing programme to supplement the education of Shan and Hilltribe children, who populate the majority of the school.

MoungChoum school, as viewed from its sports field.

James and I were recent graduates in Geography from England, at the age off 22 and 21 respectively. We had no experience in teaching, but decided that we wanted to do some volunteering work as part of our gap year. We wanted to experience, and be submerged in, the culture of another country and felt this was the right way to do this. We hoped it would be a great and 'meaningful' experience that many other gap year goers lacked, would add to our CV, and that we would make some friends on the way. We absolutely hadn't reckoned on what a profound effect this would have on our life and perceptions of the world.

James Hallamore (right) and I (left).

We began school in early January, and were immediately struck by how friendly, welcoming and well behaved the children were. As we walked up towards the school entrance children and teachers stop and wave, shouting 'ello!'

Waving enthusiastically the younger ones are all too keen to pull, swing on and prod at you (they seem to have a fascination with hairy arms)! The older ones try and speak and joke with you, and welcome you with their slightly broken English 'Good mornings, teacher'.

I found it endearing watching children with so little have such fun. They more then amused themselves with old worn out balls and skipping ropes, chasing after each other in small groups playing rough boyish games-the same as small children the world over. In the classroom children were silent and paid full attention, their capacity to learn was astonishing. It is a shame that this capacity is only matched by the excruciating inability of the schools resources to exploit this potential.

School children at MoungChoum learning with James.

While teaching we noticed how varied the children seemed in terms of their clothes, with some in torn, shabby rags compared to others in fairly decent, well fitting items. During a lesson where this was particularly obvious among the students we offhandedly asked the teachers about this inequality. We found that it isn't a case of simply rich and poor, but ethnic groups. The 'Shan' and 'hill tribe' people apparently tend to be far less well off. We wanted to ask more, but the teachers seemed uncomfortable with the conversation topic, and shifted to lighter matters involving the coming weekend festival.

I soon regretted this departure of attention. I returned to a classroom of 20 boisterous young boys who had taken to jumping on each other and fighting with the girls. However with a few stern words (or rather a stern tone that they can comprehend) it was back to learning about animals, not being the animals!

That weekend a festival was finally going off in the local temple. This was a culmination of an exuberant build up of stalls, decorations and offerings which had been adorning the temple and village over the past 3-4 weeks. That evening we ventured to the temple with one of the teachers, Mr. Porr. The once quiet and peaceful temple-where I had perhaps seen one person in three weeks, now swelled with hundreds of revelers.

MoungChoum temple before the festivities began.
This is where i first came into contact with the Shan culture through their mysterious dancers.

Eating, drinking and dancing, everyone was letting loose. The Thais sure know how to party. I noticed a group of beautiful girls, dressed in long sleeved yellow dresses on a stage at the far corner. They had a strange routine of pinching their fingers and swirling their wrists. I hadn't seen this type of dance before, it certainly wasn't a traditional Thai one. I asked Mr.Porr who these people to which he replied that they're Shan. This pricked my curiosity, I wondered who these people were who had impoverished children and yet such beautiful dancing women and distinct dress. I asked Mr.Porr about who the Shan exactly were when we heard a glass smash and a fight broke out between a couple of drunks, bringing the night (and conversation) to an early close.

Shan dancers at the local temple festival.

With the difficulties and rewards of teaching, I soon forgot about that night at the temple and the mysterious and beautiful Shan dancers. Lesson plans, marking and our busy schedule managed to push them out of my head. It wasn't until the graduation of grade 9 a couple of weeks later that thoughts on these people came flooding back to me.

During this graduation ceremony each child passes every teacher who ties string around their wrist symbolizing good luck. Some children and even teachers cried-it was a very emotional day with the pupils leaving the school forever.

Graduation ceremony. Here teachers and leading community members tie string to the wrists of the children as a symbol of good luck.

One girl seemed especially upset and our contact teacher, Ms.Pwe, also cried. Later she told us that this particular girl cried for a different reason; because her future was so bleak. She could not legally leave the border region, and would have to take a job in the fields working for lower (half) than native rates of pay. The Thai government would not grant her a long term ID card meaning she cannot travel around the country, and is denied access to free health care and state services. She cannot even attend higher education or university despite her intelligence-she was one of the top in her class.
Why.......because she was of Shan descent.

I wondered why this was, and who exactly the Shan people are. I wanted to know if there was some special reason for curtailing the lives and prospects of the Shan people in Thailand. After a few more lessons I had some free time and the opportunity to Google the Shan people to try and discover more.

I found out that the Shan are actually ethnically closely tied to the Thai people, but nonetheless highly distinct. They have their own Shan State with a rich culture (those beautiful dancing girls in yellow for example) and long history-they have occupied parts of Shan state since the 10th century AD. The problem here, and the reason why they are in Thailand in an impoverished condition is because this state is in Burma. It is subject to violent oppression from the ruling Junta culminating in what is effectively a slow grinding ethnic genocide. Consequentially there is a mass exodus across the border. Thailand refuses to recognize this as a flee from persecution, and sees these flows as illegal emigration. It even repatriates the Shan back into Burma. A few quick facts are:

The Burmese military has destroyed over 3,200 villages in eastern Burma.
It has displaced over 1.3m people.

Burmese atrocities includes rape, torture, murder, forced relocation, forced labor and recruitment of child soldiers.

The UNHCR is denied access to the Shan, who to make matters worse face regular deportations back into Burma from Thailand.

This thereby creates transitional and informal lives for the Shan. Without any consolidated legal position or standing as illegal migrants-particularly when they are in actual effect refugees-the Shan are in the most vulnerable section of society. Exploited by many from the business caste for ultra cheap labor to low society and the black market with kidnappings, people trafficking and the sex industry. The Shan people have a bleak outlook in Thailand. These are all highly abusive and detrimental situations for anyone, especially the young women and children who characterize much of the refugee flows. Furthermore this official and systematic process disempowers the Shan, denying them social and economic progression.

This came as a shock to us, Burma and associated issues rarely feature in newsrooms in England. Looking over my computer at the children passing by carrying books and leaving lessons I wonder how many of them are Shan. Perhaps they have parents who have been directly or indirectly affected, abused or even paid the ultimate price in Burma for being born a Shan.

I also thought about the girl who cried at graduation, and the future hardships she faced. She was a good student, and didn't deserve to be served such an untenable position in life.

This dire situation really pulled at our heart strings, having spent so much time teaching and working with Shan students. They were truly a peace loving, turn-the-other-cheek people caught up in a whirlwind of conflict.

I was bought face to face with this conflict a few weeks later when I joined the Blood Foundation on a trip into a Shan IDP camp inside Burma. Traveling through the Burmese mountains our 4x4 struggled on the arduous path which seemed almost vertical at times, with steep banks shearing away into deep canyons below. This was made all the more difficult considering the crates of aid laid precariously high on the jeep. After a rather nail biting journey we arrived at the heavily guarded camp site inside Shan state. A bare and dusty camp it had very sparse facilities-a tiny run down school, maybe a couple of shops. Certainly no holiday retreat. A trip to the local squat toilet confirmed that sanitation was not a top priority, and I was struck by how dirty and torn the villagers clothes were. The isolation of the camp; seemingly set apart from the rest of the world, clearly had a telling effect. NGO activity was close to zero, trade and communications virtually non existent. Stepping off the truck I felt like I was on the edge of the world.

One of the treacherous roads leading into the Shan IDP camp.

We gathered the villagers together in the afternoon, with over a hundred people gradually coming together from around the camp. Young and old they calmly and orderly formed queues, waiting to receive the food and much needed supplies we brought. Each one thanking us with the traditional thai 'wai' and a broad smile.

One of the Shan women receiving food and supplies. The camp was overwhelmingly comprised of women and children.

Soon it was time to play some games with the children. We wanted to do the same games as across the border, and tried to explain the rules for dodgeball-with great failure. Soon the kids were running around, throwing the small plastic balls all over the place- at each others faces, at their own team mates, and at my face particularly! This kicked up a mountain of dust and despite being such fun we had to call it a day, especially after being firmly beaten at dodgeball by a gaggle of seven year olds.

Grabbing a bottle of water I left our exhausted group to explore deeper into the camp. I soon found myself standing on a secluded edge of the camp, staring out into the surrounding mountains jutting far out into the sky. I wondered how many people like me have stood here and been mesmerized by this ruggedly beautiful landscape. Stepping back I turned and walked back through the camp. Outside a rather run down wooden house I noticed a young mother washing her child of no more than three in a bowl of water. Nearby the child's sister played on a wooden sledge, the tiny girl skidding down a small hill. The mother looked up at me smiling as I walked past. What real life did these children have? I felt stupid for thinking the Shan children at MoungChoum school were poor. They had a school, relative safety and security, they had food and a friendly community. Looking at this family I realized the children at MoungChoum were the lucky ones.

The young girl playing on the simple wooden sledge. Her mother and sister are nearby, just outside of the frame.

Soon I returned to the main area of the camp. Sitting down for tea with the Shan general, Ben and Jildou from the Blood Foundation I earwigged on their conversation. A discussion about the camp and what it most needed was flowing. Unexpectedly, (for me anyway) the general despite being a military man most desired an orphanage. Drawings, prices and ideas were thrown back and forth for at least an hour. Eventually it seemed a final deal was struck. A proposal would be made, and a fundraiser sought within the week. Everyone was tired, and with handshakes and exchanges of the 'wai', we left the general.

Leaving the camp I found it endearing seeing how happy the children were despite the clear poverty of their camp and the dangerous situation they were in. After all, the Burmese army is never far away. Perhaps most disturbing was the permanence of the camp. With orphanages desired, houses firmly built, trenches dug and farmland sowed, it was clear this camp was here for the long term. Their struggle had no end in sight.

Back in the safety of the school I reflected on what the last few months have meant for me. I truly hope it will not be long before the Shan know peace, both in and outside of Burma. Perhaps the day is not far off that Shan children both at the camp and MoungChoum school will be able to grow up in a world that accepts them, where they are free to pursue their destiny with impunity. Sitting at school however and watching the children-the lucky ones-in their torn clothes and worn out shoes I fear this day may be a long time coming.

Until then groups such as the Blood Foundation will do the absolute best they can to improve the lives and wellbeing of these trampled but proud people. In fact in my last week I learnt that a fundraiser for the orphanage the general so desired had been found. The orphanage will be built as soon as possible.
Before I left seeing the excitement at the Blood Foundation that such a worthy project was to go ahead I felt lucky to have known such people. It seems not everyone has forgotten the Shan, and because of this I see credible hope for their cause and future.

The Blood Foundation with local contacts, volunteers and guests from the Monk for a Month project. Ben and Jildou sit second and third in on the bottom right respectively.

By Jamie Hamley. April 13th 2009