Each year thousands of tonnes of heroin and millions of methamphetamine tablets from Burma are exported throughout southeast Asia and around the world. This situation is especially devastating to refugees… who reside in camps along the Thai-Burma border. Camp life is an ideal environment for the proliferation of drug dealing and addiction. The lack of employment and educational opportunities, the intense trauma and loss that people have suffered, and the lack of control over their own lives and future create a situation in which drug use is easily cultivated.
National Health and Education Committee
Chiang Mai University, Chiang Mai, Thailand
Bouncing wildly over a twisting, deeply rutted road in a 4x4 vehicle, Jane Laishes, Correctional Service of Canada Senior Manager, Mental Health, held on tightly as the driver headed for the “handicap camp” – a refugee hamlet where most of the inhabitants have had limbs shattered by landmines. In the back seat of the vehicle were cooking supplies and sleeping mats, sorely needed by the refugees who lack all but the most basic amenities.
Laishes was in the lush, mountainous region of northern Thailand, on leave from CSC, ostensibly as a trainer for a CIDA-funded project, teaching addictions assessments and counseling. But since her arrival, she had been called upon to carry out many duties that did not appear in her official job description. For example, negotiating with local officials over security issues, teaching women’s and ethical issues, family violence, and trying to make head or tail of the local political scene – which greatly affected her freedom of movement and ability to get things done.
Based in Mae Hong Son, a town of 7000 on the shores of a tiny lake that once served as an elephant bathing pool, Laishes traveled to the remote camps scattered along the Thai-Burma border. Her goal was to work with selected Burmese refugees, teaching them to assess, counsel and intervene with those of their own people who suffered from addictions. Ultimately, trainees would teach enough locals in addiction prevention and rehabilitation to permanently anchor the programs in the communities.
“The trainees were gentle and kind, an absolute delight – bright, funny, eager to learn and very helpful with each other,” Laishes commented. “Always smiling despite what they have lived through.”
They came from various hill tribes that had co-existed on the steep mountainsides for thousands of years. They kept the translator busy conveying their multilingual messages, sometimes resorting to comical pantomime to get their ideas across.
Typically, the classrooms were rough bamboo structures cleverly patched together with scavenged materials and roofed with broad leaves to keep out the heavy rains. Laishes had to very quickly adapt to teaching through a translator and sitting cross-legged for hours on a thin mat – the only cushioning between her and the concrete floors.
In this setting of soaring mountain ridges and orchid-scented breezes, Laishes encountered considerable human misery. The thin, ragged children, many of whom had never known any life outside the camps, touched her heart. But she also found hope in the spirit and energy of the people. She returned to Canada after her short stay having made a contribution to the people’s welfare. She remains committed to improving the lives of the Burmese refugees through a volunteer organization, Canadian Friends of Burma, located in Ottawa.
Jane Laishes (seated, centre) with Burmese refugee trainees
Camp dwellings constructed from bamboo and discarded sheet metal. Most of the
camps have drinking water wells but no sewage systems. Disease and addiction are
a double threat to the well-being of the inhabitants.
A meeting inside the home of the village chief. No roof vents for cooking fires
means that dwelling interiors are dark and smoky.