We piled into the pick-up; piled meaning sardine-squished, about thirteen of crammed into the small bed. I couldn’t imagine this at home but here, everyone is so affectionate. Poe Ei’s arm draped across my knees and close-shouldered with Twe Zin, I found it novel and cozy. The mountains were steep on the way to Rock Thai, and all of the roads here wind snugly around mountains of all sizes anyway, so a few had their heads between their knees. The air was so fresh! The air smelled of lemon verbena! (Lemon verbena is my favorite scent in the world.)

I had, wrongly, assumed Rock Thai was our destination, a picturesque Chinese village given over to tourism; it is situated on the border. However, we didn’t stop in the cener but continued onto dirt roads until we arrived at an unintimidating checkpoint that housed a couple Thai soldiers.

And that’s Burma, I was told. We went in easily, thoroughly confusing me after the hundreds of stories that have been recounted to me concerning sneaking in and out of Burma. Immediately on the other side was a village, and upon asking discovered it was predominantly Shan and Pa’o. (Later, I discerned that village was a poor and inaccurate euphemism for an IDP camp that relies on aid for basic needs as work opportunities are incredibly scarce.)

We started into the jungle on a narrow path along the side of a mountain. Breathtaking. I am, of course, still oblivious at this point as to where we are going as I was full of questions concerning crossing the border (But… you guys are in Thailand illegally, yeah? And those are Thai soldiers? Oh, and sometimes the Burmese army comes here to Rock Thai? I didn’t get very far).

One of my fellow staff pointed at a mountain across the valley, to a place where you could see that trees had been cleared. Burmese army, she stated. SPDC Burmese army? I clarified. Yeah. Okay.

Five minutes into the hike we passed some and I looked them over, momentarily taken aback that one was missing his leg, and then embarrassed as I caught his eye. But actually, considering the number of landmines it shouldn’t be so shocking at all. I suppose it was shocking because I have never had the experience of growing up in war.

We eventually arrived at a small camp, and there were three little girls with tanaka on their faces, which is so beautiful. There were men dressed in fatigues with guns on their hips and, again, not growing up in war means such things are a bit of a shock to me. The students and staff were delighted and I quickly ascertained that we were at a Pa’O National Liberation Organization camp- PNLO army camp. There were huts littered about, and people equally littered about in the grass. It was very small and very relaxed, but I was, of course, taken aback by the AK 47s piled about in the largest of the huts, in front of which the girls played.

Most of the students were chatting with various soldiers. I discovered one was a student’s brother and this was the first time she had seen him in three years. Another was a cousin. Others were acquaintances and friends, somehow. Some of the staff had travelled in Burma with some of the soldiers before. I met the general.

Funny things happened! One of my students asked if I wanted to chew beetle nuts. I had seen them in Laos and some around here as well; you can tell if someone is chewing them because you look at there mouths and want to shriek because it appears that their mouths are bleeding profusely. (Not the case!) Of course I did! This student has a particular way about him, in that he loves explaining everything as if he is a tour guide, so we stood at the table as he explained each and every bit. It is not always just the nuts, apparently. In this case, you took a leaf, spread white stuff on it (I never gathered what it was), added extremely strong tobacco that will make you dizzy, and lastly some nuts. You folded the leaf and popped it into your mouth. I was excited! I chewed and chewed and at first thought it was delicious, much to the delight of my students. Then, of course, I bit in quite hard, and it tasted awful, and i became extremely dizzy. I made a big spitting scene which in retrospect was probably quite charming. I gave that up and had a cheroot- it just seemed right to smoke a Burmese cigar in that particular location.

We had lunch. I noticed a soldier sleeping in a small side room, clutching an AK 47. This area had to be quite safe; someone mentioned that he certainly used to doing so from sleeping in the jungle. Guns are scary.

(I suppose I didn’t realize how long this would be, and I’m boring of this. There is more, however.)