Visa Run To Burma (Myanmar)

The drive from Chalong to Ranong took about six hours. There were nine of us in the group; two American kids, two Italian kids, one Swiss fellow, one Australian, one Indian and the two of us. There was no chit-chat. It was a bit weird – like we were being delivered to a prison, or something. Our driver unloaded us at the Ranong Immigration Office, where we stood in line for our departure stamps. We then surrendered our passports to the van driver who, in turn, handed them over to the boatman that would take us across to Burma. The experience is a bit unsettling, because you lose control and sight of your precious passport for a long period of time in an environment crusted with smugglers.



We are led down a murky alley leading to a squalid pier with a dark waiting area.



It's an odd feeling to hand over one's lifeline and identity to a stranger. One has to trust that this is a dependable system. The same scene happens every day at this port, so it's comforting to know that there are never any untoward incidents involving visa run expats. We didn't see our passports again until after our boat left the dock in Burma and we were on our way back to Thailand. We all checked to make sure that they had the necessary Myanmar arrival and departure stamps. There was one tense moment after we left the dock for the return trip to Thailand when the Swiss fellow's passport turned up missing. Our boat turned around, pulled up alongside another boat and the red Swiss passport was magically passed from boat to boat until it made it over the gunnels to our boat. All in all, we had only spent fifteen minutes on Burmese soil and the Italian couple never even left the boat. It was like – yes – our passports said we went to Burma, but – no – we weren't in Burma.



I made this trip years ago on very small boats; that was before the "Big Boat." Well... it ain't exactly a big boat, but it's larger than the boats most people use for this journey.





That's the Thai red, white and blue flag flying in the picture above. All the fishing boats, large and small, are festooned with colorful prayer cloths infused with prayers and protections for seafarers. The Christian cross on the Big Boat ferry is a bit of a mystery. Maybe it is there to give comfort to Christian foreigners making visa runs, or perhaps the captain of the boat is simply asking all possible dieties for protection.


We leave the pier at Ranong and the first thing we see is an enormous, gilded Buddha statue protecting us on our journey across the bay. The shoreline is obscured by a facade of funky buildings on pilings and I wonder what it must be like to live out one's life in one of them.





The bay is filled with small boats carrying passengers back and forth between the two countries. A ramshackle Thai Immigration facility on stilts services Thai and Burmese nationals. The operation of processing stamps and passports is something to behold. The immigrants never leave the boats and runners take care of the formalities (which hardly appear formal) by collecting papers and passports, taking them to the mysterious authorities inside the boat shack and then returning them with the required priviledges. I'm thinking there must be a logical system underlying the appearance of confusion, but the impression I get is that the whole procedure is loose, loose, loose and a little cash might further loosen the rules for questionable applicants. But then... I know nothing about what is going on here - it's all conjecture.






The Burmese coastline and islands are dotted with shrines and large gold statues of the Buddha. They remind me of something I've tried to reason out, but can't get a grip on. Do societies facing great difficulties and impoverishment rely on spiritual help more than affluent societies, or do societies that rely on spiritual help more than their own resourcefulness wend their way to difficulties and impoverishment? Certainly, our awareness of our mortality provides a spawning ground for religions, but do religions alleviate suffering, or do they become ideological prisons that create more suffering? The Burmese statues and shrines give me pause, but I don't think I would have these thoughts while visiting the Vatican. (Or would I?)



The opulent building that greets you when you approach Kaw Thaung, Burma, is deceiving. Once on shore, for our very brief visit, I notice a marked economic difference between Burma and Thailand. The Burmese are hurting. I can't help thinking of the border crossing across the Rio Grande, from El Paso to Juarez, Mexico, although the economic parameters are closer between Burma and Thailand than between the United States and Mexico.


Thai monks use small begging bowls, or none at all, but Burmese monks don't mess around. From the size of the begging bowl this monk has under his arm, I would say he is obviously after BIG donations. I love the sun-like design on this reverant man's fan. Sun bouncing back at the sun to provide shade. (Is there a haiku lurking here?)



There is a lot of boat traffic back and forth across the bay. Here, a boatload of ice, of all things, is being delivered to Burma. This is, without a doubt, the coolest boat on the bay. So-called 'long-tail' boats are everywhere. These are incredibly maneuverable small boats. They have heavy engines mounted on long shafts trailing into the water, with screws at their end. The captains of these boats are muscular fellows who steer the boats by swinging the shaft and even lifting it out of the water to stop the boat. Their skills and strength are something to behold.



The Thai/Burmese border appears impossible to control. Contraband and illegal immigration flows easily between the two countries. I've never made a visa run to Burma when I didn't see handcuffed and chained illegal Burmese immigrants being deported from Thailand back to Burma, but as many boats as are shuttling folks back to Burma are bringing new immigrants into Thailand illegally. Borders between 'haves' and 'have-nots' are notoriously uncontrolable and dangerous. We didn't take pictures of the seedy characters around the docks and on the boats. I witnessed some exchanges of contraband items that I will not describe here. There was no effort to hide the obvious. The waterfront on both the Thai and the Burma sides gave me the feeling that I had walked into a steamy, oriental movie set teeming with unsavory villains and touts. (I'm purposely not posting pictures of the seamy stuff, because I can't compete with the CNN website, which titillates with squalor, angst and the sordid side of humanity so expertly.)



These stamps, allowing us to stay in Thailand another three months, were what the trip was all about. It was one hellishly long and bizarre day. We have two more such trips ahead of us before we will be allowed to take care of the visa business on a yearly basis without having to make ninety-day visa runs.

[Link to Visa Run II, posted July23, 2006, is HERE.]