border run

chumphon, thailand

not more than ten hours ago, i was sitting on a wooden bench overlooking a roundabout for the vehicles of a high-end resort, listening to britney spears sing a missive "from the bottom of [her] broken heart." a bit incongruous, one might conclude, the image of my bearded, bohemian self waiting for a shuttle at a luxury casino/golf course complex. still probably not as odd as the fact that the background for this setting was none other than one the world's poorest and most isolated nations, myanmar.

the how and why are simple enough to explain. thailand grants foreigners from most countries fifteen days' stay when they cross in by land. one can stay beyond that, but the daily surcharge comes in at close to us$20 and for some of us that sounds like a whole lot more than "twenty bucks." of course, one could always just "go home," but that doesn't sound like too much fun now, does it? this means that those wishing to stay longer need to make a dash for one of several borders before returning. the free market disciple will say that the market is there to fulfill the need. i would be more likely to say that this creates an opportunity for someone to make a buck while adding no value to the world. potato/potahto.

so, i had to go to myanmar. and, technically, i did. i made a beeline from chiang mai to ranong over the course of 29 hours and found one of several services in town offering 'visa runs.' my boat left at 8:30 this morning. we crossed in a high-speed ferry (mr. thein sein: tear down this andaman sea) and disembarked at the concrete steps for andaman club, the aforementioned resort and casino. i followed a group of four russians exhibiting early morning malaise through their tepid dubaduh dubaduh plazita blazita plazita blazitas through a quick passport stamping and onto a hotel shuttle. from there, to the hotel lobby, where we turned around so that i could be serenaded by a melancholy ms. spears and eventually shuttled back to the boat.

it's been a day of my life that has not made me a better man. the fresh-inked and well-pressed myanmar stamp in my passport will serve as a flipbook reminder of how i haven't really been to the country. the images of the casino and its obeisant staff will be the ones playing through my mind each time i read about the very real people having very real struggles in the very real part of that country. and me, i lost 1000 baht on the tour and one day on the beach. i guess if i put it in the context of the myanmar i didn't see today (but will someday), i really have no basis for complaint.