Another
year… another mission trip… to fulfill my promise to the marginalized tribes
scattered around Southeast Asia. I could make this my full-time calling, but I
have to make money to be able to serve, because missionary work requires me to
put my resources into the tribes – not to make money from serving them.
This year
the target of our mission trip would be a village in the back hills of the
Myanmar-Laos-Thailand border. Yeah, that’s right – the Golden Triangle, the exact
place where three countries meet.
If you
were alive in the 60’s and 70’s you could remember that this place – Golden Triangle,
is actually where the narco plants - opium and marijuana were cultivated,
processed and marketed. It was also the spot where westerners and locals
flocked for that ultimate psychedelic high that these narcotics offered.
Through the
years stricter measures were imposed on these activities due to international outcry
and yet the trade of narcotics survives up to this day albeit in a smaller and
illicit scale.
Here are the photos of the mission trip that a month to prepare, but only 5 hours to execute.
air nok (bird in thai) that flew me to Chang Rai
the awesome glimmer of the setting sun over
the Myanmar mountains.
checked in at Baan Bua homestay for the night
the following day this bus takes me on the final leg of
my trip to the border.
that's my namesake - Noah. this buddhist ex-soldier of the Myanmar army met me at Mae Sai with his great smile. this was our first meeting after talking to each other a few times over the phone. I would hear his awesome testimony later and how much he loves Jesus and his countrymen. we spent less than 24 hours together but I guess I learned more than a semester's worth of wisdom about missionary work.
the northern end of highway 1 - the blue building, which is the Thai customs and immigrations gate to Myanmar.
the Nam Ruak river (tributary of the Mekong River) separating
the two countries
the gate into the land of precious stones, narcotic stuff and
ethnic strife. this country formerly had religious freedom, which was curtailed by the military junta that took over in the early 1960's and transformed Burma into a socialist Myanmar.
at the immigrations office an officer takes my passport and hands me a temporary entry permit that would expire before the sun sets on the same day.
it had my photo and the same info that my passport held. this would be the legal document that would allow me to shop and tour the country and since we got in at 1 pm we only had about 5 hours to get our business done.
the center rotunda of Tachileik city just across the
border from Thailand
a common street scene... not much traffic with overloaded
cars bearing unusual cargo
our convoy left the city and followed a dirt road through
numerous checkpoints.
we headed towards the Laos border through the
wilderness brush onto the back country
nestled in the remote hills you'll see this small school without a name. a commune of homes was beside this school and I was told that the community was composed of 100% believers. I couldnt help but imagine what these guys had to endure to stay undetected or
tolerated by the regime.
the pupils seated inside. note the folded arms, which
is their way of showing respect for the visitors.
you will note that they have enough elbow room
the whole student body assembled for instructions
on how we were going to conduct our medical clinic
first station is the checkup
then Ralf administers the deworming pills and
any medicine that was needed.
then they put on the clothes that the Germans brought
Midway into our activity our escort - a paramilitary officer,
tells us that we have 15 minutes left and that we had to leave for the border and out of the country before the time that we were allowed to stay was over. His order jolted me back to reality and my mind reeled in the thought of how much these people had to endure being dictated on how they should conduct their lives. We hurriedly go through the remaining kids and head back to the border.
at the border our guide realized that we had still a little time to visit a christian orphanage. These kids ranging from 6 - 17 years live in tight quarters in a rundown wooden house didnt have much to live by but were contented and happy to have foster parents who took care of them.
this is the sign at the orphanage and I ask a Myanmar interpreter at the office to tell me what it meant, but he couldn't
understand it. It was written in the Burmese alphabet no doubt but he couldn't make head and tail of it.
Time was up and we retrace our steps over the bridge and back to the Thailand side of the border.
we then dig into this delicious dish of frog meat. Thank you Jesus for giving me this opportunity to serve your less fortunate brothers and sisters in this forbidden part of the world. I will forever be your humble servant.
