-----Original Message-----
From: nally299@aol.com
To: hmongtimes@gmail.com
Sent: Tue, 5 Feb 2008 1:45 pm
Subject: A New Home for Hmong Refugees?

The Shan States: A New Home for Hmong Refugees?

by Mike Nally

CHIANG RAI (Northern Thailand) --Could the Federated Shan States
(located in northeast Myanmar and part of once was the Union of Burma)
be the new home for scattered Hmong refugees from China, Lao PDR,
Vietnam and Thailand?

That's the hope and mission and goal of a pair of Hmong brothers, Dr.
Touyer Moua, 44, of Garden Grove, CA, and father of 12, and Dr. Daniel
Moua, 50, of Fresno, CA, father of 10. The brothers, both academics
-- Touyer is a social worker and Daniel is a Hmong pastor to 31
families who also owns radio station KQEQ (1210 AM) -- are unlikely
heirs to the mantle of power that once draped the shoulders of
militant Hmong Laotian leader, Gen. Vang Pao.

The brothers -- like many Hmong -- ended up on the wrong side of the
war in Laos in 1975 and fled to a refugee camp in northeast Thailand,
before making it to America.

Now the Moua brothers are back in northeast Thailand on January 21,
having flown from Bangkok to Chiang Rai. Touyer who is on the board
of USIM (United States International Mission), a human rights agency
based in Garden Grove, has assembled a team that will take us south of
Mai Sai -- the normal crossing point across the Thai border for
tourists with visas visiting the infamous Golden Triangle, known for
its poppy fields. The Golden Triangle borders Myanmar, Thailand, and
Lao PDR.

Our contact in the Shan State is the eastern regional commander, Col.
Korn Zern, a man in his early 40s.

Our team, in addition to the Moua brothers, is composed of Aaron
Cohen, a USIM board member and a man legendary for rescuing young
women and children from slavery in brothels in Southeast Asia, Col.
Lee, a former Laotian commando who fought the North Vietnamese Army
and is known as the "Hmong Grey Ghost" for his strike and feint
tactics, and his bodyguard, muscular Yia Lee (all from Fresno), and
our driver, Richard Lysuan, a chuncky handsome well-to-do businessman
who has a wife in Fresno and a wife in Chiang Mai.

Lysuan has borrowed his wife's new SUV for our trip, and it
comfortably fits all seven of us. Lysuan has known the Shan commander
over eight years. He has set up our meeting with Zern just inside the
Thai border at Rim Taam Rest Stop and Guest House. According to my
small map it appears to be close to the village of Thaton.

We do not have to wait long before Col Zern zips up in a turquoise
green 4 wheel drive Toyota Tiger. He emerges with a bodyguard with
the face of a hawk, and a young interpreter, Hsu, who takes notes
during our conversation while hot white tea in glasses is served.

Introductions are made. Zern is a little uneasy about me being a
reporter. He is a solidly built, compact man, with frank, appraising
eyes -- honest and direct. His black hair is cropped short. With his
smooth, olive skin and waxed handlebar mustache Zern resembles a 19th
century British India raj.

Zern favors a pipe with a Sherlock Holmes style stem, which he
polished with a soft rag before lighting up -- El Moreno tobacco.
Zern tells us he hopes his oldest son who speaks English will be able
to attend West Point, but Cohen informs him this is very difficult.
The conversation continues, mostly in Thai. The team presents Zern
with gifts, which his bodyguard, stationed just ten paces behind,
quickly intercepts first and inspects.

After lunch of black chicken, rice, soft buns stuffed with pork, and
bottled water, Zern gives each of us a CD --martial marching music of
the Shan State cut in a nearby studio. Then he jumps back into his
Toyota Tiger and is gone.

We must wait three hours before we get the green light to be able to
go in the backdoor across the Thai border. Lysuan, our driver, has
told us not to worry -- "Zern is like a brother to me." The seven of
us then hop into the SUV and wind our way up hilly terrain until we
reach the Thai border.

A relief -- no guards at the checkpoint.

We proceed about five miles inland. Lysuan stops the SUV before we
see a Burmese checkpoint. We must get out and proceed on foot now down
a side path, descending steep hills through a coffee plantation. The
sun is warm and half way through our trek we find a bamboo sluice with
cool, running water, and bathe our faces and necks. I am also keenly
aware of the fact that we are in fields and valleys once landmined to
protect the opium that was once grown here.

Finally we climb one more steep hill, and there on a narrow road are
two young Shan guides waiting on Hondas to give us a lift into the
Shan base camp. It is a dangerous journey around twisting, hairpin
curves, but the verdant, lush, rolling vista is absolutely
breathtaking. After all, the real Shangra-La looms not far in the
distant mountains bordering China and Burma.

We enter the far southern end of the base camp through a spiked bamboo
gate, and our greeted by children and a grnadmother with berry-stained
teeth. But right away we are ushered into pickup trucks and are taken
on another bumpy, harrowing ride to the permiter of the base camp.
There we are given a tour of some recent construction -- a medical
clinic, classroom, a dorm for injured soldiers. Three of them without
legs (mines) are in need of prosthetics.

Cohen gives Zern $300 to help them, but the Shan commander does not
take the cash personally but instead gives it to a woman accountant
from the clinic. He tells us the Shan could really use a good tractor
and a radio station.

We go outside and sit down at a table, and sip more tea. Zern points
across the valley to a mountain. The Shan army holds one side, the
Burmese the other. He does not say how many soldiers he commands, and
I see none. But I see the firm resolve in this Shan leader's eyes:
"We will hold this land at all cost."

Zern does tell us some 2000 families live here, and there are seven
different ethnic minorities. The Hmong refugees -- if accepted --
would be the 8th group to live and work and fight in the Shan State.

That night a beautiful luminous moon fills the sky. There is no sound
at all except the barking of dogs coming from the direction of the
Burmese army. Roosters crow on the Shan side, at all hours it seems.

Col. Zern invites us to a tasty meal on the porch of the supply bunker
which is also where we will bed down for the night. Two thick yellow
candles -- the size of High Mass candles burn brightly (there is no
electricity here). Hmong Col. Lee pulls out a bottle of Crown 99
whiskey, and we clink glasses in a toast.

"Friends forever!" says Zern, the only English I have heard him speak.

After dinner it is down to business and the Moua brothers from
California present an MOU (Memorandum of Understanding) they hope Zern
will sign that will include letting some 1000 Hmong families move into
the Shan State, have dual citizenship and register as Shan citizens,
help develop agriculture (tea, coffee, etc), help the Shan government
build electrical plants, a water reservoir project, a school and
hospital, comply with the Shan constitution, agree not to deal in any
illegal drug trafficking, all Hmong males and females (18-45) would
register to become Shan soldiers, and finally Hmong would be allowed
to live in their own village in the Shan State and have the freedom to
practice their own religion and customs.

They talk late into the night.

Early the next morning, at exactly 7 am, the Shan commander appears in
full military attire, olive green uniform and a cap similar to Cuban
leader Castro, but with the bright colored triangle insignia of the
Shan State. He is accompanied by three soldiers, who carry M-16s, and
who stand on the ridge facing the Burmese line.

In the short time, I have known Col. Zern, I have come to admire his
bravery and stance. There is a logo in the Ducit Hotel back in
Thailand that applies to him: "Boldness and greatness is part of our
DNA."

My hope now is that the scattered Hmong tribes -- with all their
fascinating history -- will find a home here in this isolated but
stunningly beautiful Shan State atop a mountain in Myanmar. As I
leave the base camp on another bumpy Honda ride, I spot a Buddhist
monk sitting in the lotus position atop a raised platform will his
Shan followers seated around him on a grassy knoll.

He sees us, and raises his hand in benediction