The Karen, the Hmong and Me

The plan for this encounter with the Karen and Hmong hill tribes of Northern Thailand was hatched some 5 months back, but due to some important matters that Ralf had to attend to, the wings of this plan were only strong enough to fly just recently. As soon as I got Ralf’s green light I hurriedly packed the medicines and some used clothes donated by Jed Abordo, Yangyang and Kailee, and the other Filipino nurses at Yanhee and boarded a 999 VIP bus for Chiang Mai. As a kid I had read much about the Karen people of Burma in books written by Dr. Eric B. Hare, and this trip was a chance for me to have a firsthand encounter with the Karen that the great missionary of the early 1900’s loved so much.

Ralf, my German missionary friend and missionary to the Karen was at the Chiang Mai bus terminal to meet me. That same morning we proceeded to the mountains in Ralf’s 4X4 pickup with two lady volunteers who had interesting backgrounds. One young bespectacled Fraulein was introduced to me while we were loading the pickup, and she was very courteous and professional with a bright outlook in life. I soon learned that Stefanie was a flight attendant for Eurowings, which is a partner of Lufthansa Regional that flies the skies of Europe. She was in Chiang Mai to personally see for herself the projects of Ralf and how she could help.

Another young and equally lanky German lady with a great love for God and the needy came on board the pickup just before we left the city. Julia was just out of high school and was spending a year with some missionaries in Chiang Mai before she would get into college to pursue a medical course. So this makes up the four of us and we get underway in the trip, which I would describe as a roller-coaster ride to Mae Na Chorn. It is obvious that Ralf knows the roads like he was born on it, and he goes through the hairpin turns at high speed, just barely clipping the fenders of oncoming vehicles. In a few minutes I get into the rhythm of Ralf’s driving and I excitedly imagine myself doing the rides at Six Flags. The ladies at the back think otherwise, and if it were not for the flight attendant’s savvy on managing air turbulence they could have puked their breakfast over us in the front seat.

Mae Na Chorn is 150 kilometers from Chiang Mai and we made it in 3-4 hours with occasional stops at a waterfall or to make deposits in public restrooms. The beautiful primeval forests of gnarled teak trees and the great breathtaking million-dollar views gave me enough reason to praise God that morning.

We got to Mae Na Chorn Orphanage where I am introduced to the staff and their charges and to another German by the name of Thomas Singer. He is an industrial engineer who worked in a factory in Germany that manufactured parts for Mercedes Benz and other European cars, but decided that the poor kids in Thailand needed him more. I was shown a room where I would sleep that night. Workers were busy renovating the Coffee shop and there was a lot of construction activity going on with the boys helping the carpenters. Later in the afternoon some patients arrive and I set up clinic. After dinner I do physical check up on the kids and the staff. Almost all are in the pink of health except for two who I advised to be brought to the city hospital for further workup on a lung and thyroid problem.

The following day we drive higher up the mountains to Mae Hae Hostel where a whole village of Karen tribesmen and their families have gathered at the Hostel to see the Filipino doctor. History taking was a very unique experience, because between me and the patient were two translators translating from English to Thai and then to Karen. I was imagining that some important information could be lost in the process and I was praying that God would minimize the Babel effect and produce good results, which turned out really good to the praise and glory of the Great Physician.

It is three o’clock in the afternoon when the cold wind starts blowing and the chill goes straight to your bones. That night a fire was lit in the living room to give us warmth and we retired under mosquito nets. Ralf and Thomas opted to sleep out on the open porch without the nets; it was too cold for me. Early the next day some more Karen folk start arriving and I resume clinic. At 1 pm the medicines are almost gone and the patients have all been seen, and we bid the Karen goodbye.

We head back to Chiang Mai and managed to make it before the last bus left for Bangkok. It was a ‘generic’ [colorum in the Phils], air-conditioned, double-decker bus painted with bright cartoon characters. This was not a regular bus plying this route but it was the best that the stranded passengers can get. I got a seat beside a young Buddhist monk who couldn’t speak English, and all we did throughout the trip was to bump each others heads as we dozed off. The driver obviously wanted to please the restaurants on the way and made frequent stops.

The return trip that day from Mae Hae to Bangkok took 15 hours and resulted in a sore butt, painful pressure on my herniated nucleus pulposus, numbing pain on my thighs and legs, some degree of vertigo and a plugged colon. But that didn’t dampen my spirits at all. I had been to the mountains and had seen the Karen and Hmong rejoice because they were treated by a doctor. Their smiles, hugs and handshakes were more than enough balm and inspiration to keep my spirits high until I make another trip, again. I can never thank God enough for giving me all these opportunities to bless others, and I only live to serve him more.