Epilogue: In Search of Chiang Mai

Written by: Dr Yeoh Seng Guan.

The deadly resolution of the prolonged street protests in downtown Bangkok by the “red shirts” in late May caught worldwide media attention. Its immediate relevance for this year’s cohort of student travelers was that the annual study trip faced the likely prospect of cancellation because of security concerns. But information from various sources based in Chiang Mai assured us that the troubles were parochially confined to the capital city of Bangkok, situated some 700 kms to the south.

And so the trip proceeded safely as planned albeit with some minor hiccups along the way. Some of the many learning/talking points are faithfully chronicled in this blog before you. A few entries give a glimpse of the range of human concerns being compassionately tackled by various civil society groups based in this ancient northern bustling city situated close to the borders of Burma, Laos and Cambodia. They dig below the tourist gloss of Chiang Mai to reveal some of the forces that had caused many to flock to this city in search of a better life and to escape political oppression. Others provide investigative and impressionistic forays into aspects of urban Thai culture this past eventful week, the World Cup Finals notwithstanding.

As in the years before, a trip of this nature is not conceivable in the absence of the guidance and goodwill of a number of key individuals and civil society organizations. First and foremost, my gratitude goes to Dr Chayan Vaddhanaphuti, the Director of the Regional Center for Social Science and Social Development (RCSD), Faculty of Social Sciences, Chiang Mai University, for kindly agreeing to be the host institute and for providing various suggestions on possible input sessions early on.

Ms Kanchana (RCSD) helped to source out our able and hardworking student guides and tackled last minute logistical challenges efficiently. Ms Amema Saeju (Mimi) was instrumental in making contacts with the community leaders of the Attaqwa Mosque whereas Ms Busarin and Mr Ton similarly paved the way for us to meet with the other civil society groups.

Our accommodation in Chiang Mai this year was truly exceptional! Ms Sunanta Thakas (Sin), the proprietor of Yourhouse Guesthouse, not only looked to everyone’s needs with great care but her extensive contacts in the business lighten considerably our organizational worries.

Last but not least, our four student guides for this year - Ms Jamjuree Janjorn, Ms Jutha Srivatananukulkit, Ms Penkwun Chumpukum and Mr Kitikhun Suja – shouldered the heavy responsibilities thrust upon them with cool grace and humour, and in this way has continued the singular tradition of student guides extraordinaire.

Of the six study trips organized thus far, this is the bumper year in terms of the number of countries represented by the student travelers – Australia, China, India, Indonesia, Malaysia, Sri Lanka and Zimbabwe. Once again, I am happy to note that, on balance, this cohort was able to rise to the challenge of negotiating a steep learning curve in an unfamiliar environment with much enthusiasm and flexibility. They were joined by veterans of previous study trips and former student guides from the Philippines, giving this particular trip a special aura in terms of networking opportunities.

For me the central lesson of this year’s study trip to Chiang Mai can be epitomized in an imagery used by Gabfai, one of the groups visited. Learning to listen intently to others, especially the marginalized in society, is akin to unfurling one’s clenched fists and letting go with what we are familiar with. Without this mindful disposition, one cannot get to the heart of the matter but remains in a state of aggressive denial. For this cohort, I hope this trip will be remembered in this manner for years to come.

In-formation at Wat U-Mong

Closing Entry by the Editor-in-Chief

Written by: Nadiah Ahmad.

Chiang Mai posed for many of us an opportunity to get away from the familiar and learn about, what seemed like, an unknown and mysterious backyard. Thailand, a country situated just above Malaysia, was a place many only associated with Bangkok and Phuket, and so the location was in itself enticing.

When I signed up for the trip, I did not know anyone in Monash beyond my ridiculously tiny social network. Many of the travellers were already acquainted with each other, having shared classes or similar social groups. When I was given the task of chief editor I shuddered at the notion of organizing a bunch of art students who, by definition, should not be prone to the notions of organization and deadlines – I, for one, still struggle with them. But having said that, I was pleasantly surprised at the work ethic that came with each team, and so felt assured of the workload given to us.

We arrived inquisitive, though slightly sleepy, at Chiang Mai Airport, and the transportation that greeted us was both unexpected and exciting; pick-up trucks with roofs, and which soon became our main mode of transport around the city, was one of the pivotal settings for the groups of us to get to know each other. It was also a place for Abeer to release her frustrations and boredom by singing the Sesame Street theme song.

Days passed rather slowly for us, early mornings and late nights; when it was three pm, we hoped for it to be six. Even so, each hour we spent, we learnt, laughed and sang. Work was done, though admittedly, not always on time. But the times we shared, we shared willingly. Getting to know one another was part of the incentive and became one of the main reasons we did not want to leave the country. Our student guides assimilated themselves to be one of us; they shared stories and experiences with us and vice versa, and because of that, they have left a lasting impression in our hearts and minds.

There are a couple of things that must be highlighted to single out this trip from others, making it (and this is my biased perspective) the BEST student trip EVER. One of which is, unlike the previous ones, the lack of a definitive setting in which previous travellers saw as mandatory – the cyber cafe. I have heard stories of previous travellers bonding over the brightly lit computer screens at cyber cafes. Though a few of us did do our work as one, most of us (and by the end of it, all of us) were instead stationed within the confines of our rooms or the makeshift studio at the guesthouse to finish our work.

We instead bonded over football, Singha beer, saman, banghra, talks about the trauma of sex shows and Muay Thai, and a group effort to get a couple of travellers emancipated from their denial of mutual infatuation. Considering the circumstances (or lack thereof), the travellers ended up seeing each other as more than just course mates; indeed, we are all now friends.

Another peculiar factor present within our group was the multiplicity of nationalities amongst the travellers. We had Malaysians, Indonesians, a Sri Lankan, an Indian, an Aussie, a Zimbabwean and a Chinese whose eagerness was infectious. It was interesting to see everyone break out of their national shells, and embrace each others’ idiosyncrasies. It was not only a trip to learn about Thai culture, but the culture of our fellow travellers, and most of us gained a plethora of knowledge, not excluding suave dances moves.

Dr. Yeoh, our Pathfinder and head honcho, set out planning this trip for us to learn about the world in ways we could not have in the pages of our course readers. He wanted us to learn by experiencing, by watching and hearing stories of struggles and triumphs. Personally, I think he wanted to reassure us of our ideals, and to hopefully retain them once we are released from the confines of our Monash gates. I wish for his plan to work, for the world is a reality that needs a necessary dose of idealism, which then hopefully this bunch of travellers can provide.

Reflections by Cheah Wui Jia

Written by: Cheah Wui Jia.

Sometimes it seems like heaven is a place on earth.

At the mosque we were visiting, I saw the young girls clad in tudung, running around joyfully, as if there were no such thing as pain in life.

And I took it all in, smiling. It seemed… so pure. I smiled at a young child and she smiled back at me, before running somewhere to hide behind a door. I thought my heart would burst. Dramatic, I know, but me, being the sentimental freak that I am, just cannot help myself. While they scuttled around like little mice playing hide and seek, I understood what purity may possibly mean. Trust. Devoid of fearfulness or presumption. Children love with an innocence that no adult can ever understand. They don’t see the colour of your skin. Or your body shape. Or whether you are doing drugs, or sex work. They just love you if you give them candy. Or make them laugh.

It makes sense. Loving the human being. Imperfect in many ways but, nonetheless, human in every way.

The people that I have met are pure at heart. Strangers I come across in Chiang Mai clasp their hands and say “Sawadika,” with a humility that the world needs most in a contemporary age of despair and disappointment. Institutions of authority have failed us in one way or another. Corrupt organizations, themselves comprising fallen human beings, have swindled away hopes and lives like conscience never existed. We live in a period when truth seems elusive, when motives are incessantly questioned, when ideals evaporate to leave an arid desert where dreams are nothing but mere shiny mirage, when a flurry of ideology seems destined to implode under a heavy weight of contradiction.

But out of brokenness and sorrow comes forth a faith that can be purer than gold. Faith is that transcendental signified that we so desperately need, in a world full of flickering simulacra and empty signifiers. Faith is that wall that came crashing down when a crowd that shrieked for joy climbed over its remnants from the East into the West of Germany. Faith is when a woman, shackled under house arrest for 14 years, still possesses a heart that drums to the beats of freedom, because she loves her country too much to sing mournful desert songs. Faith is when we relentlessly decline to have our hope dictated by the shifting conditions of surrounding circumstances that may seem hopelessly negative.

We can choose to turn cynical and hard hearted, deriving certainty from a postmodern form of numbing depression. We can choose to casually shrug, or complain out of bitter resentment and throw our hands up in the air. Nothing is going to work. So why try?

Or we can choose to make a difference, rise to the occasion and believe that we can change things. That we can love, and make purity possible.

The NGOs I have visited demonstrate signs of an unfaltering faith. Caring for refugees who flee from tyranny and oppression, for sex workers who suffer from stigma, for AIDS victims whose lives are dwindling a little each day. In other words, people who have dedicated their lives towards caring for other people who may have to keep looking over their shoulders with a gaze so furtive, clutched by a fear so paralyzing it makes it difficult to breathe easily.

I wish I could describe to you, in words, my study trip at Chiang Mai. But I can’t. This doesn’t stem from a sheer laziness to type out this diary entry, or from the belief in a Lacanian theory that language is hopelessly unreliable. Words just cannot do justice to the study trip. I wish I could taken you by the hand, to urge you to walk with me and absorb the sights, sounds, tastes, feelings that so profoundly, in the words of another diary entry, assailed me, at every phase of the trip. I can only offer you snippets that I hope, paint a picture of Chiang Mai and the people that I encountered.

I will be unapologetically honest now. There were times when I questioned what faith and love really mean. In many ways, my Christian faith was violently at odds with the lifestyle of the homosexual or the sex worker. I knew I had no right to judge anyone either. Smoking, drinking, cursing, and cracking jokes (that made me blush or gulp), were what some of my friends did on a regular basis. Habits like these were something I had to accept, and attempt to overlook. Constantly surrounded by church members, I had been accustomed to the habits of the devout Christian which clearly excluded behavior deemed as worldly or ungodly. But I knew I had to suspend my judgmental tendencies, and accept differences in doctrine (Christianity versus Social Science) that threatened to mar the entire Chiang Mai experience for me. I had to learn to love, over and over again. To unclench my tightly clutched fist, over and over again. I prayed at night, asking God to help me understand and love people better. 

At the ice breakers exercise that kicked off the GABFAI session, I fully understood the entire painful exercise of trying to keep my clenched fists closed (while an annoying opponent tried to pry it open). When Ann asked how clenching one’s fists felt, some of my friends automatically replied “It felt powerful, like I was in control”. For me, before the exercise was over, I already knew its aim deep down in my heart. It is safe to feel as if one is in control. Safe to know that the world is clearly mapped out and highly predictable. But that is not the real world.

I understood what Dr Yeoh meant when he urged us to leave our comfort circle of friends and attempt to spend time with acquaintances beyond our familiar cliques (or “factions”). Judgment barely begins with people on the fringes of society like the prostitute, or the hardcore drug addict, or the homeless refugee. It begins with the people we come into contact with in our daily lives. People whose lives are ordinary, just like ours. If we cannot overcome miniscule differences by loving one another unconditionally, we cannot expect to bridge the larger gaps that divide the centre from the periphery in society.

For the record, the adjective “lame” hardly means Lochna’s sprained ankle. I truly enjoyed the company I had. I felt honoured being there among them.