Move to Mae Sot, Assistance Association for Political Prisoners, 1-5-08

By Jodi

Assistance Association for Political Prisoners

Bo Kyi's trial with the military junta went like this:
Judge: Did you commit a crime?
Bo Kyi: No.
Judge: 3 years' hard labor.

Bo Kyi is one of the 10 founders of the AAPP. The only requirement for membership, he says lightly, is that you have been a political prisoner in Burma. He knows that's quite a high price.

Before 1988, Bo Kyi, a Burmese literature major, was far from politics. But in the 8-8-88 struggle, he saw his friends arrested, witnessed brutal killings. So he became involed, knowing it was a matter of time before he was detained. He soon was, for demonstrating for the legalization of student unions and for the release of all student political prisoners.

Pacing and contemplating in his cell focused his mind and helped him solidify his priorities. It was there that he decided to learn English. "Fortunately they arrested faculty as well as students," he told us, laughing. Fortuitiously, an English teacher was put in the next cell. He even bribed a guard to smuggle in a dictionary, which he studied--then ate.

After released, he was harased to become an informer. When he agreed on the condition that the junta engage Dau Aung Su Kyi in dialogue, he was thrown into prison again, this time for 5 years. When they came to arrest him for the third time, he luckily wasn't home. He fled to Mae Sot.

Another member described the torture all political prisoners suffer: beating, electrical shot, cigarette burns, kicking--"they don't care where: eyes, ears, heart, genitals." Then there's the psychological torture. He describes going 3 days without food and water. Finally a guard offers him a small glass of water and unshackles his arms. The officer leaves the room. Another comes in and says, "who told you to drink that water?" then beats him. That officer leaves, the first one returns, and yell, "why didn't you drink?" And thus goes another round of the charade.

You'd never know this funny, sweet guy who now is studying electrical engineering at a community college in Illinois had gone through any of this. Of course we couldn't see the scars on his back.

Still, AAPP doesn't hate the military. (In fact, some come from military families.) They only hate Burma's policy. So they lobby, through a secret network inside Burma to support current and former prisoners and their families, conduct research, and provide information to human rights NGOs and bodies.

During our talk, a crowd of activist community was gathering in the yard, and we all enjoyed pork curry, noodles, and a very spicy cucumber salad.

Everyone was welcoming, and a man introduced himself to me. It turned out he had served as a bodyguard for ASSK. He worked for her til she was put under house arrest. Afterward, the police came to his home at midnight, scaring him and his family. He fled to Mae Sot, where he works at one of the many unregistered illegal schools for students from Burma.

His devotion was apparent, and when I asked him if he missed her, he leaned back and sighed heavily, Oh yes." But he, like so many we have met, remains optimistic. "I am sure we will have democracy one day," he said.

But even that conversation wasn't the grand finale of our first other-wordly day in Mae Sot. The Durgas, a band that is funded by Save the Children put on a concert. Songs honored ASSK, spoke of struggle and peace, and Burma. The crowd went wild, singing, screaming, and dancing. At the end, a small group of AAPP members sang a glorious Burmese rendition of "Dust in the Wind."

And the hits just keep on coming: Bo Kyi is trying to get us into a refugee camp tomorrow.