Around June, I was looking forward to returning home, and all the fantastic food, and beer I haven't been able to enjoy in years. I was busy imagining how great it would be to see friends and family I haven't seen. I was daydreaming about couches and kitchen tables. In September, it suddenly hit me how great Thailand is, and how much there is that I want to do but haven't had the chance. I was trying to figure out how to pay for trips to new places, and was making lists of all the things I wanted to do before I left. One of them was going out to a remote jungle temple for a week's meditation and cold showers. A few weeks ago was when I started to realize how fantastic Chiang Mai is, and how much I love all my friends here, and the thought of missing of any that for a trip anywhere else seemed abhorrent. This is the stage at which I fall in love with everything, and feel the need to soak up all the goodness, until it outweighs the sadness of saying goodbye. This, the final stage of leaving, is also accompanied by short bursts of panic about the reality of what will happen when I return home, but generally, two months is long enough to come to terms with the transition.
Several weeks ago I met again with a guy, Victor, who is from the National Reconciliation Party of Burma, (which is based in Canada). Victor, who is originally from Burma, works out of an office in Chiang Mai, but travels frequently to neighboring countries for his visa, and also for meeting and working with various refugee groups. I originally met Victor last year, but fell out of touch. I told him I had a few months left in Chiang Mai, and if he needed help with anything to let me know. I envisioned editing reports. He asked me to forward my CV, which was duely done, and then he asked to speak with me on Sunday about an internship. Part of me was excited and part of me was dreading that he'd offer me a fantastic position which would force me to choose between staying here longer and going home for Christmas.
It seems my trepidation was well founded, although it wasn't quite what I had expected. I still get to go home at Christmas as planned. But before that, I will be going to Malaysia. The position is an 'internship' to work with a group of ethnic Chin refugees from Burma, who are now living in Kuala Lumpur. Although the UNHCR has offices there, most of them have yet to be interviewed or granted official refugee status. They've fled their homes primarily because of persecution by the military junta. Unlike Thailand, there are few to no international organisations set up to help refugees in Malaysia. Officially, they are illegal migrant workers, and are often abused by police and/or arrested and put in immigration detention. The refugees themselves have mobilized to form advocacy organisations, which receive some funding from Chin Charities and churches in North America. The Chin Human Rights Organization does advocacy work for Chin refugees around the world, and they also visit Malaysia regularly to 'assist and coordinate advocacy activities'. They helped to set up the Chin Refugee Committee, which is where I'll be helping.
According to a CHRO report, the CRC provides the following services:
- Registration of Chin refugees
- Humanitarian services in the event of a crackdown. (There's always a crackdown)
- Information dissemination on the refugee application process
- Coordinating UNHCR interviews and communication
Posting bail and visiting detention centers
Lobbying for Chin-English interpreters
Information dissemination on the refugee situation in Malaysia
Strengthening relationships between the UNHCR, NGOs and Authorities
Providing welfare services
Essentially, they have no legal rights nor protection living in Malaysia. Even UNHCR refugee papers only offer symbolic protection, as Malaysia isn't party to the Refugee Convention. Even if it were, it would likely have little bearing on the activities of corrupt police and immigration officers. Furthermore, only people with legal passports and visas can post bail or visit detention centers, so they are desperate for someone to help who does have a visa.
So, perhaps you can see why it would be impossible to say no when Victor asked me to go there. It is a great opportunity for me in many ways, and I couldn't hardly pass it up.
The downside, though, is that I'll be leaving Chiang Mai on November 9th, and not in December. That's only two weeks away, a fact which nearly makes me sick to my stomach. Suddenly, every emotion I had planned on stretching out over the next two months, have hit me all at once. The material preparations of shopping and packing are easy. Coming to terms with the fact that I only have two weeks left with the people I care about (for the foreseeable future), is enough to induce panic. The feeling is akin to being ripped out of my own life by a sucking vortex which it seems no one else can see. Trying to cram two months' worth of quality time into two weeks just feels impossible.
I've never been to Malaysia before, and I have no idea what life will be like these next two months. But ultimately, I know it's the right decision, and that going will be a positive experience. If there's one thing my life has taught me, it's that the pain isn't always in letting go - it's in trying to hold on to something you can't have. So I just keep repeating my personal mantra, until I've convinced myself, "Change is good, I embrace change...change is good..."