Doctors
Without Borders
I
first met this French medical group near Sangklaburi, Thailand when I
was working at the Kwai River Christian Hospital on the Thai/Myanmar
border in 1994. A dusty pickup truck would occasionally arrive
bearing a patient in need of surgery or some other crisis they could
not treat in their rural clinic across the border.
The
paved two-lane highway that went past Sangklaburi was probably the
shortest road between Thailand and Burma (now called Myanmar),
following the old “death railroad” of World War II notoriety,
crossing the border at Three Pagoda Pass. It was a convenient way for smugglers to
sneak illegal imports into Burma, a caravan of eight luxury sedans,
for example, that we met on the road one day.
But
the road was unique in other ways, too: it had a branch going due
westward passing right by the Hospital (20 km west of town) and
proceeding another 10 km to a point on the national border that Mon
tribal rebels controlled, at the village of Holokani.
Many
Burmese enter Thailand looking for jobs. Thai Immigration police
jail those lacking proper documents and ship them back to Myanmar,
but not where the Myanmar police can arrest them. In Mon territory
they have a long border over which they can infiltrate without much
risk. Every Wednesday two or three truckloads of deportees, a hundred
per truck, would pass the hospital en route to Holokani. Often there
would be several who were too sick or too malnourished to walk across
the border, and they would be dropped at the hospital. Immigration
had a standing agreement that they wouldn't hassle them while under
treatment, and we would send them on their way when they were strong
enough. We had a safe house with exercise equipment where they could
stay in the meantime.
Lois
and I went to visit Holokani one day, accompanied by a couple of
locals. The pavement ended 3 or 4 km beyond the hospital, and the
road got progressively worse over the rest of the way. Holokani
turned out to be a population of some 5,000 people, living in bamboo
thatch-roofed houses, crowded on both sides of the road for 2 or3 km.
The town had no electricity, no running water or farmland; everything
was provided by the Thai Border Consortium, a volunteer group. The
Doctors Without Borders had a larger bamboo building with room for
about 20 patients lying on the floor. They had a microscope using
sunlight-and-mirror, were able to give IV fluids and blood. By
contrast, our little mission looked like a city hospital. with its
lab, X-ray and operating room.
I
never again gave a hard time to the people in the dusty pickup, and I
still make contributions to the Doctors Without Borders, God Bless
them!
