My parents are Burmese missionaries, but my family lives in Thailand, and I’m Korean. It’s funny sometimes because many people don’t understand. Everyone thinks that all dark skinned, Asian people are Thais, but if you go out to the streets, construction areas, diners, and the great “Night Bazaar” there is a large number of unexpected Burmese people. A large number of them are refugees who came to Thailand to get jobs. They are very poor because they are living in a foreign country and they don’t have anyone to help them. So, our organization from Korea reaches out to the Burmese people in Thailand because if we don’t, who will?

There is this one city in Thailand called Mae Sot. I find this place specifically interesting because almost 80% of the population is Burmese. Never have I actually met a native Thai person in that area. That’s why I personally don’t see that place as “Thailand”. Our family goes there often for this Burmese school. We rushed down the highway and after another long and tedious trip over the mountain, the city started to get closer to us. Finally, the 6 hour trip from Chiang Mai to Mae Sot was over and the background started to move pass our car more slowly. It wasn’t a huge city; in fact it was very shabby. We drove through the city’s main road and turned right. The road was to the right was narrow and dust flew up like small sandstorms as cars and motorcycles sped by. I looked out the window and saw cheap houses that were built very simply and basic. They were either made of lumber or concrete with white oil painting. We went passed the houses and up a hill on a road with lots of curves. Then, there was another turn to the right at the point where the Thai policemen were guarding. This pathway was even smaller than the previous roads and it felt like it was leading into a forest. However, at the end of the path, there was a building waiting for us.

The place was a Theology School for young Burmese men and women. It was run by our small organization along with Burmese professors. The building was pretty new, but it looked rather rusty when compared to other schools in wealthy places. Outside, the weak Thailand breeze played a peaceful melody that made the trees dance, but it didn’t really do much compared to Thailand’s devastating radiation of sunlight and muggy humidity. We got out of the car, got our bags and immediately went inside where it was cool. We went inside a small room where we were supposedly going to stay for a few nights. There were 2 single-sized beds, a couple mattresses and pillows, and an air conditioner (hallelujah). My brothers and I stayed in the room, playing games on our phones and our iPad. We also downloaded our favorite movies and Korean TV shows beforehand so that we could watch them. The room would’ve been perfect if there was Wi-Fi in the school. I didn’t want to go outside at all.

Then at around 6 o’clock, I went out for dinner. The Burmese students and teachers came into the cafeteria and they all gladly shook our hands and greeted us. I sat down with my brothers and I saw the students bring dinner from the kitchen and set them on the tables. Then, some teacher would pray out loud for the meal, and after that, everyone would start eating. The menu that day was rice, vegetable soup, cucumbers, and meat. This might look like a simple meal to common people, but in Burma, meat meant feast. These Burmese people weren’t very rich so they rarely served meat, unless there was a special guest. So, as the special guest, I ate my dinner. It might seem very plain, but that was still the best meal anyone can get at that school. I ate and ate and ate and finally finished off my huge pile of rice, but the teachers offered me another dump. I obviously said, “No thanks.” A lot of these Burmese people are underweight and short in height because they grew up in a very poor environment with little nutrition. I realized that night that this Theology School was very important to them because not only did it change their lives and educate them, but it also gave them plenty of food. I felt good watching these young Burmese men and women eat rice until they feel like they’re fat.

The next day, there was a worship service at about 11 o’clock in the morning. These Burmese students and teachers have this time every day. The service was upstairs, above the cafeteria, and chairs were set up. There was no air conditioner there so all they could do was turn on the fans and open the windows. The students started to gather in and the worship started. I think these Burmese people are very interesting when it comes to worship. A few guys came up to the front and lead worship, but none of them actually held a microphone. There was a drum kit and a bass guitar, there was also a guy playing the acoustic guitar. However the main instrument was the keyboard because the guy who was playing them seemed to be in control of everything. He played the low parts as well as chords and the melody, and he had the drum machine filling in for the drum beat. The Burmese students sang along the Burmese music as loud as they can. All this collaboration of joyful noise bounced off the walls of this small area. My brothers and I felt very awkward with this style of worship because we couldn’t understand a single thing (except “Let’s pray.”). After the worship service, we all go downstairs to eat our lunch. Our family stays at the school for a few days and we leave back to our home.

That is how our Mae Sot trips usually look like. Mae Sot is a great example of a place where the foreign population is greater than the native population. Whenever I go to this place I feel like I’m in Burma and not Thailand. I feel like I’m seeing and meeting more people who look like native Thais but are actually foreigners. Nowadays, when I see a Thai person who is working outside in the streets or doing construction work, I sometimes get confused that they might be Burmese. It is a strange feeling when you learn about one country’s culture while living in another country. When I learn more about them, I start to care more about them. I wonder how they would feel when some random Korean comes up to them and talk to them in their native language in a foreign land. Maybe that’s why Burmese missionaries live and work in Thailand.