Burma

Failure

The muggy night stifled my breathe while the tightly nooked buildings sat listening. A stout man with a dishonest face stared up at us awaiting our answer at the crossroads of our mission.

"You want to see dead body, huh?," he said. "$2,000. You go by truck and then you go by boat and you are back in 24 hour."

The Charlatan and his four men awaited our answer next to his small covered truck in front of our meager hotel.

He lifted up his camera in one last sales attempt. "See," he said. "Dead body. Look. Dead body."

Several pictures show bodies laying in the water, in the hatch that was once a home.

We decided not to take the truck and instead catch an early flight back to Bangkok this morning.

In talking about my experiences in Burma, I don't really even know where to begin. The frustration of failure still runs deep.

We landed in Yangon a week ago. We met up with many members of the press and listened to advice. Jaded advice. They were mostly all pulling up camp and heading back to their respective counties. The Junta had succeeded in keeping the press from telling the true story of the cyclone aftermath.

We, however, were ready for the challenge. I had time to dedicate to this story. I felt it was important. So we set off. After a few days we contracted a fixer. A young man named Jamie. He seemed very resourceful and was extremely eager to help.

This is no small job. In fact it was very dangerous. He knew it and we knew it. The punishment for aiding a member of the foreign press would be severe. We told him many times that if he ever felt uncomfortable with something to just tell us. We would not be upset or disappointed. So the partnership commenced.

The following morning we set out to the northwestern part of the delta. A city named Pathein. The plan was get to this sea port and rent a boat to take us down the coast and around to the bottom tip of the delta which saw the full force of the cyclone. There were five check points but Jamie insisted that it would be no problem to take a bus.

Several hours and two bus stations later we were finally able to purchase tickets. When we went to board the bus, the driver looked at us and said, " no foreigners!" Apparently right after we bought our tickets, a letter came through the office stating that foreigners would not be allowed out of Yangon by bus.

So Jamie said a taxi would work. Night was coming and an extremely hard rain was impairing the ability of sight. My colleague (who is white and 6"6') and I (who is also white and 6") hunkered down in the back of this tiny taxi in 90-degree heat covered in coats and backpacks. The first two checkpoints were a breeze. No one manned them. Just a few barriers to drive around. But the third one was near the driver did not think we would make it.

We pulled over and Jamie and the driver got out and talked for a while. We had to continue to hide as military vehicles often passed by. The river was nearby so we thought we could get on a boat to bypass the next three check points. However the villages were all government ran and it was too dangerous to ask such a question.

Some how the decision was made to press forward and hope for the best. As we approached the check point I saw an official out of the post looking at the passing cars. I breathed heavily on the window trying to fog it up but the driver had rolled his window down. We clenched our coats tighter in the hopes to disappear.

The car stopped and I heard a loud voice shout out, "Foreigner! Foreigner!" My stomach sank down to my feet and we where instructed to pull to the side of the road.

My colleague and I were escorted out of the vehicle and brought to a shack where they examined our passports and copied down the information for the next 20 minutes. My colleague was able to convince them our intention was to head to the beach to get out of the rain. We were sent back in the direction we came and lost out an entire day.

The next several days were dedicated to securing a boat from Yangon that would smuggle us down to the southern delta. This is when the frustration kicked in. Everyone we met seemed helpful at first. We would ask them logistical questions and they would blatantly lie to us and say that they have been down to the delta already and they knew exactly how many check points there were. It was always the same. A plan would start to materialize and then hours before we would leave we found out that everything was a lie. This made absolutely no sense to me. I was explained that it was the Burmese way. Yet it still didn't sit right.

But this boat seemed like the real deal. It was a cargo ship used for trading along the river towns. The fee would be $1,000 USD. We agreed on the amount upon visually inspecting the boat. Jamie also agreed to accompany us to the delta to act as a scout for government or military officials at each stopping point.

The boat driver seemed very knowledgeable and claimed he had already transported aid to many of the affected villages earlier that week. He said there would be 40 check points. This was it. It was finally going to happen.

We boarded a small motor boat headed to the middle of the river. Jamie pointed to a decent size ship, "There it is." Finally, I thought, this was the right size boat needed to conceal us. We pulled up along the side of it and began to board.

When I lifted myself over the top to peer inside however, my stomach sank once again. The guts of the boat were all but missing. Piles of old, rotting wood sit in several feet of river water. We continued to examine the ship while the driver pointed out areas to hide. I asked when the boat could be ready. He said in a few hours. My excitement began to build once more. I realized that the state of the ship actually invited less inquiry into the validity of it's purpose. We were ready to commit.

We said, "OK, lets go tonight." But the boat driver seemed different this time. He said no. He said we couldn't leave for three days. He said the engine needed work. Work? We were told this entire time that the boat was ready. We didn't understand. At that point we found out that the driver had not been down to the delta at all since before the cyclone even hit. Finally the driver said that he would not drive us at all. Jamie became very upset with us at that point. He said that he couldn't help us any more either. He said that it was just too dangerous for him and that we just didn't understand.

Well, that's true. We don't understand. We don't understand why we wasted an entire week on plans when they were never going to happen to begin with. This is the story that is Burma.

Constantly lied to. Constantly being misguided. Wasting time. Wasting money. The press knew it. In fact some of them even blatantly embellished their stories because they couldn't get into the areas they wanted to.

In the end, it wasn't the military's fault, or the people trying to make a buck. I am to blame. I did myself in. I lost my heart and my direction and just couldn't find it again. So today I am in Bangkok and tomorrow I will be home in Saigon.

As awful as I feel for failing my mission, I can't even imagine what it is like for the people of Burma. Institutionalized in their own fear and paranoia. My thoughts will be focused for them again soon. I hope aid reaches the ones in need before it is too late.

Here

Made it safely into Yangon this evening.  The feeling was very strange.  Very quiet and dismal.  Traces of the storm passed, lined the roads to my hotel.  The country braces itself for another round of weather.

I am not sure how frequent my postings will be, but I will attempt to write what I can, when I can.

Peace.

Success!

3:47 P.M. Thailand time, the visa confirmation call came through. We celebrated with an awkward manly hug and a glass of Chang Thai Beer. We leave tomorrow evening (Friday) for the devastated country.

Wait

I lay here watching CNN, BBC, MSNBC ... anything and everything. My fingers are attached to my computer as update after update flows over the internet ways. My mind is racing over the world's happenings.

For once I am free to go to the events I feel compelled to photograph. But what does that mean? Am I an ambulance chaser? Do I pick and choose? I barely have enough money work on the projects I want to in Vietnam, not alone Mya---r. (I apologize for the blanks but I am trying to stay under the google radar until my passport clears)

I felt an intense force to send myself to Bangkok. This is a humanitarian issue. Right now people are dying as I type this. Will I help them out directly by crossing that border? No. But I still believe the duty lies on some one to bring the truth to the world. And why not me?

Obviously there are jour------s there. Brave jour------s. It is becoming more and more dangerous for them to work there. The imagery is finally beginning to show the desperate and despair.

So here I wait. Wait yet another day for my visa. The embassy claims they need additional days to process it. Frustration builds within me as I ponder what my purpose is in SE Asia.

Below: Jour------s wait for visas outside the Mya---r Embassy.

Bangkok

I have been here for a few days now. Been collecting supplies and following up on leads. Visa confirmation could come Wednesday ... so I wait.

I began developing a staph infection on my left thigh up in northern Vietnam last week, but I did not recognize it as a serious threat. It has since painfully spread into deeper tissue affecting muscle mobility and my ability to walk normally. Began a round of antibiotics and saw a doctor today but it seems to be getting worse. I will return in the morning for the injection option in order to be ready for a possible border crossing by the end of the week.

Blocked

Not sure if this will even post or not. My blog has been blocked on
the internet since I got back to Saigon. In fact I can not access any
blogs from my computer. Not sure if it's government censorship or
something else. Not sure what that means for the future of this site.

For the time being, I'll be heading to Bangkok in a few hours and will
give a quick update from there. The posts will probably be short and
obscure so that I can fly under the Google radar until I can obtain my
visa.

More soon.

Change of plans

I'm waiting for a flight from Hue, Vietnam to Saigon right now. I'll be there later on this afternoon. I've moved my flight to Bangkok up to this Sunday. Once I land I will post my local contact number here and on the portal page to my web site.

Land mine track and field

Today was hot. Very hot. I spent most of it outdoors shooting a track and field event with land mine victim competitors. It was was a hard day in general. I'm beginning to get sick and didn't have enough water with me for the first part of the day. Rookie mistake.

In between shoots I was able to secure travel arrangements to get me a little closer to -------. See below.

These competitors were incredible. I was blown away when I saw several people with only one leg compete in the long jump event. One person jumped 2.49 meters. The spirit of the people and the camaraderie they share was truly uplifting.

There is so much more to this story than I ever thought and this is just the beginning. I will most definitely be making future trips to this area to explore where the project goes from here.

Update -------

I'm still in northern Vietnam working but I have been calling, sending text messages and emails around trying to get a feel for the visa situation. Entering ------- via Vietnam will prove to be a lengthy process if at all.

I was originally going to try to have my local travel agent book the visa along with a temporary "tour package", as I felt it was a less aggressive approach to raise red flags. That was a no go. They are shutting down travel from Vietnam and several other countries.

Everything I've read online and heard from friends is that Thailand is the way to go. Bar far the most lax on granting visas ... whatever that means.

I return to Saigon on Monday afternoon and I have another flighted booked to Bangkok on Tuesday. Wednesday morning I will attempt the visa process.

I was actually able to purchase a decent pair of rubber boots in my size today. And I've secured a healthy supply of Cipro. Last-minute preparations will continue.