It appears that the Peace and Conflict Studies program had a “field trip" to Northern Thailand. The following is the objectives of the "field trip", and then a somewhat personal reflection of the trip and the challenges that Stephanie faced.
Field Study Northern Thailand
February 7th – 15th, 2008
Field Visit Objectives
The Field Visit aims to provide Rotary Peace and Conflict Studies’ Participant with chances to:
• To understand and analyze the stakeholders involved in the natural resource
conflict of the lower Salween river basin;
• To learn more about political and military oppression within Burma, the
conflict between the state and minorities, and the effects on migration and
refugees in Thailand;
• To understand the conditions of refugees and migrant workers and to analyze
their interests and conflicts with other actors
• To apply the knowledge of conflict resolution theory from module 1 and the
tools of conflict analysis acquired in module 2 to produce a concrete map of
the various conflicts witnessed.
Stephanie Pollack
Rotary Peace and Conflict Studies Program Jan – Apr 2008
Field Study Reflection: Northern Thailand
Reflections on clowning in the refugee camp
Most of my life I’ve been a performer. I loved to play and make people smile. Then six years ago I got sick and turned inward, unable to expend energy playing but rather needing to save it for survival. Since then I’ve developed new ways to play, expending less energy while still receiving the pleasure of spreading smiles.
Preparing for the meetings within the refugee camp with Group B was wonderful since my colleagues and I agreed both on process and content. The day arrived and my excitement for being back in a village grew; I have much experience in villages in the Asian developing world, but this would be one of my first as part of a group on such serious business as gathering information from NGOs.
And then Susan asked me to go clowning with her.
I declined, thinking of my commitment to my group, thinking of the organization that went into splitting us into groups and finding interpreters, thinking of students on my past programs who wanted to stray and what a pain in the #*! it was for me as their leader. Throughout the morning all-group session of presentations by NGOs I ruminated. My group is going to visit NGOs, talk with people, be transported on a motorized vehicle, stay together. Susan is going to run around the camp all afternoon and make people happy. The former would be the easier choice for my body, the latter the obvious choice for my spirit. Upon further reflection, it really wasn’t much of a contest.
The joy of the afternoon reminded me of how I used to be before getting ill – constantly physically active, silly, theatrical, expressive, spreading laughter and ridiculousness to people who really need it (in this case, it had been 2 years since the last outsider performed in the camp). After 3 hours of intense activity we rested and I equally felt exhaustion and peace. The memories of performing on the stage at the school for 500 people, playing ball games in front of the hospital with 30 participants and another 50 onlookers, doing follow-the-leader with heaps of kids across the cleared land (ready for building housing) onto the outdoor stage walking exaggeratedly, not faking not knowing how to juggle in front of another 100 people, discovering and becoming connected to a special boy helper, being hugged and held by a mentally ill woman, and the ultimate videotape routine which ended with me being chased by about 40 laughing kids up a hilly path with people peering out of their houses smiling – these memories will be with me always. I brought a bit of joy to people who needed it; they brought intense joy to me.
The connection I felt reminded me of my past life, my younger healthy backpacking days throughout Asia. The experience brought me back to a place I’ve missed desperately. While I was ill I thought I’d never experience the feelings from those days again. And now I have, even if I now know I have to do it in a different and shorter way, even if I had to pay for it with a decrease in my health for a few days. Still, I learned that I can do it, and that knowledge means the world to me.
Witnessing conflict as scarcity hits home: Boys fighting over a plastic dakro ball
While in the camp, running around with groups of children, one boy emerged as our special helper – he was wonderful, led us to places we wouldn’t have found on our own, took care of our belongings as we performed, volunteered to perform with us, extremely theatrically talented, and generally made sure we were okay. Later in the afternoon, as we were squeezing through a tight corner around a fence, I noticed two larger boys tackling him; one bully emerged with the dakro ball Susan had given our helper as a thank you and our helper was crying. I immediately took the ball out of the bully’s hands, gave it back to our helper, and used body language charades to let the two boys know of my disapproval of their assertion of power. While I remained with them long enough for them to register their understanding of my opinion of the situation, without being able to work with them as an educator (teaching bullying as I have in the past) I’m sure they have not changed their inner bully tendencies and I wonder what happened after we left . . . I shall always wonder. Stories like this are not new; boys will be boys and fight over toys. The difference is that the scarcity in the camp gives it a whole new meaning.
Reflections from an independent American pseudo-collectivist realizing individualistic tendencies
As someone who has led numerous intensive 24/7 experiential education programs like this one, someone who usually thrives in group atmospheres, who wants to be at the center of community, and as someone with advanced training in intercultural theories, I surprised myself in my individualistic tendencies. Early on in the trip, literally in the Bangkok airport upon our departure, I noticed a rising tension within myself, a heightening stress and annoyance; digging deeper I was surprised to recognize it as an urgency to be alone. Knowing this was the first moment of a long trip I knew I needed to change my perspective – and fast. I left the group in order to made the personal mental changes needed to enjoy the program as it was designed. Upon further reflection, I wonder how others from individualistic cultures felt. Colleagues from collectivistic cultures made their social needs known consistently throughout the trip, and I obliged as often as possible without tipping me over the edge. Conclusion: something’s changed within me and I’m more individualistic than I thought. This is an incredibly important learning for me to know for the future.
Reflections on being ill, heart longing to be with the group and mind craving intellectualism yet body rebelling
Being immuno-compromised living in the regular world means that I sometimes miss things, like whole days of field study when my eyes catch an infection and the infection spreads through soft membranes into my brain (as explained to me by my eye doctor after returning to Bangkok) causing not just an eye infection but also a brain infection (no wonder I felt so scarily awful). I am deeply saddened to have missed two days of such quality programming. I feel as if I’ve lost something I can never get back. While I’m still recovering, eyes sore/foggy and brain slow, I shall continue to attempt to fold myself back into the group socially and to uncover knowledge gained during missed visits. And yet, I’ll always feel a loss, and have to learn how to live with it.
Intuition on Natural Healing
I sauntered into the market at the Thai/Burma border. Feeling pretty crappy with my eyes hurting and burning and my head pounding, I found myself being drawn to goji berries and local raw honey (both of which I consume at home). With sunglasses on (as had become the norm), I inspected a small baggie of berries. Through charades I inquired to the shopkeeper if they were for eating or making tea/soup. He indicated eating, then pointed at the honey as if they were supposed to be eaten together, and then pointed at his eyes and gave a thumbs up. I was shocked. Lifting my sunglasses to reveal my red/swollen eyes, he gave a bigger thumbs up. Apparently honey and goji berries are good for the eyes and I instinctively knew it; it’s important to me to be reminded that at least some of my medical intuition remains intact. I returned to the drivers hanging out near the van who were curious about my purchases; they thought the berries were spicy chilies and I was able to convince two of them otherwise by sharing – they did not enjoy the taste (which is more like medicine than yummy) and threw the remainder on the ground. Sweethearts they are, they found a straw so I could suck honey out of the huge bottle and be able to begin self-medication. Not surprisingly, I starting feeling better almost immediately; all I needed was a little goji, a little honey, and the thoughtfulness and care of our wonderful drivers.
Reflections on the Rotary staff concerning the above
I’m used to going through illness alone, and I am incredibly thankful for the personal care I received from all of the Rotary staff, including but not limited to being taken to a doctor, being taken to a pharmacy twice, having special food ordered for me, and generally feeling deep care from everyone at all hierarchical levels. While this is the type of care I’ve bestowed on many a student throughout my career, it’s quite the switcheroo to experience it myself. I am grateful. It’s good to be reminded that karma really exists.
Reflections on an inner conflict:
This is a reflection for which I have no answer. It remains an important question, one that I hope I’ll get some insight from my colleagues on as I’ve grappled with it for years. How is it possible to witness such poverty (as we did) and return to a business hotel with a hot shower, swimming pool and good meal (as we did) and be able to live with oneself? Each time I am in economically poor areas, my heart breaks and I want to give up all earthly belongings to work for the cause of poverty. Why do I have this fortunate developed-country life and they don’t? Why me? How can I enjoy this (insert luxury here that many people take for granted) knowing what I just witnessed?
Am I alone in these thoughts? What do others do to press on?
