I stood on the path and looked across the river. With the rainy season upon us, the river below me was swirling about, dawning a rusty, brown color. Its level was higher than normal, the current more powerful. On one side of the river sat Burma, on the other side sat Thailand. On the bank of the river sat neither; that is the place they call “No Man’s Land.”
As the name would suggest, NML has no official claim by either country. It’s confined to a small stretch of land that is bordered by the river on one side and a barbed wire fence on the other. It is inhabited by a group of people, not only homeless, but also country-less. Their own country has forced them out, denying them citizenship and documentation that they actually exist in this world. Since they don’t have papers, the other country refuses to acknowledge their existence as well.
There is a single set of stairs that descend into the land. The day we were there, the stairs were unguarded.
“Can we go in?” I asked.
“No. It’s too dangerous. The military guards the border. No one is really to go in or out. And even if we got in, once inside, it’s really dangerous. There is no law. There are no rules. It can be a violent area. It’s just not safe.”
As I stood on the outside looking in, all I could see in that moment was a small boy, no more than 4 years old, sitting on the ground, playing with a stick in the dirt. Here I was, a 24 year old adult, and it’s too dangerous for me…
What about him??
It got worse as we continued to walk alongside NML. From our view in Thailand, we were able to see a building situated on the bank of the Burmese border. The 6-story, multicolored building stood out in stark contrast to all the earthy tones surrounding it.
I wonder what that is…
“That’s a brothel over there.”
What??
“A lot of sex-trafficking goes through there…especially with little kids.”
It’s more than I can handle even now. These are no longer nameless faces or faceless names. I’ve meet so many of “them” along the way. I’ve heard their stories. And every day, more get added to roster…
In these moments, it’s easy to feel helpless. I’m just one girl, a bystander, a traveler, here today and gone tomorrow. So as I stood there on a nameless country, I did the only thing I could do, I swallowed the lump in my throat, choked back the tears, and I prayed…hard.
I believe in a god who cares. I believe in a god who is present. I believe in a god who is Light and Love. And even when I don’t feel it, even when I don’t see it, I continue to walk by faith, not by sight. I continue to believe.
Words have power, whether written or spoken. That day, I truly believe there was Power in our words. They were full of Love, Life, Light. As we prayed, it began to get lighter out. Literally. It stayed overcast. The clouds didn’t disappear. But the land began to glow with a new kind of light. Call me an idealist and a dreamer, but I want to believe there was something happening that day in that place.
Behind the scenes, where reality actually exists, there was a shift in the atmosphere. A battle was being fought, and we were coming out victorious.
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