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Published on September 5, 2007

Setting out for Chiang Rai as a volunteer with the Mirror Foundation, I was determined to make an impact teaching the locals Thai, communications and hygiene.

But, after time spent in a hilltribe village, I realised it was the children there that ended up teaching me.

Before departing for the North, I had mixed feelings. My friends warned me about the hardships, drugs and remoteness from civilisation.

But after five days at Huay Nam Rin village with the Akha hilltribe people - one of six major tribes in North Thailand - I discovered those fears were baseless.

The Mirror Foundation is a non-profit, non-government organisation that helps hilltribes lead better lives while retaining cultural identity. It believes these communities can make the transition to a "beneficial coexistence with lowland society and combat drug abuse, cultural erosion and trafficking of women and children".

This was not my first experience with the hilltribes. I visited about six years ago as a university student. This time, however, was different.

I discovered the foundation through reading a friend's blog, and found out more about the work it does by visiting its website, Mirrorartgroup.org. This got me thinking about making a contribution as a volunteer.

Altogether, 34 of us ventured North. We all got along well, perhaps something to do with a shared volunteer mindset: Each of us in the group wanted to help, and get a break from big-city life at the same time.

The trip into the hills was long, winding and rainy. We were greeted at our village destination by around 40 children - from toddlers to young teens - all cheering noisily.

Eventually, our "handlers" settled the division of labour, and a cherubic 10-year-old called Pee adopted me, helping me to her home with my luggage.

I have to say I was a bit disappointed. My lodgings were a modern mix of concrete with a tiled roof - not quite what I had imagined.

Like others in the village, the family seemed relatively well off. It had a television with a video player, and a refrigerator. There was even a mobile phone for keeping in touch with relatives - Pee's father is a sausage vendor in Bangkok.

Some of the volunteers expressed concern about the invasion of 21st-century technology, and it became a common thread of conversation. There were two schools of thought: one was that technology is inevitable and the tribe should be allowed to make its own choices about what to accept or reject. The other, that technology would distort and destroy these people's rich, traditional lifestyle.

All the volunteers found communication with the adults in the village difficult. The Akha have their own language, but hand gestures helped break the ice. The children speak and understand mainstream Thai well, but their reading and writing was shaky. Only spoken Thai is used at school.

During my five days in the village, we taught the younger kids games and songs. With the older children, we swapped ideas and opinions. One evening, sitting outside Pee's home I talked with her elder brother about my life in Bangkok.

He was curious to know all about my job, university and lifestyle. I answered all his questions and encouraged him to study hard so that he could do something for his fellow villagers.

He understood, but explained he was unlikely to study past grade nine. He's probably right - money here is tight. Most of the villagers leave school by grade nine to help their families out working on nearby farms for about Bt150 a day.

Pee's brother is in grade seven now, but I hope our chat has encouraged him to stay on for a few more years.

In the evening the volunteers arranged campfire entertainment for the villagers in return for their hospitality.

Day two saw the real work start. The volunteers divided into four groups and commenced teaching. Straight away we experienced another aspect of the lively hill-country atmosphere: the children were eager to learn.

Generally, Thais are considered reticent, but these hill people are different. Sure, a few are shy, but most don't need a second invitation to participate in an activity. In class they were keen to speak up and ask questions.

Each day the volunteers accompanied the children to school, a two-kilometre hike from the village.

In a lot of respects, these schools in the hills are the same as those anywhere else in the country: they stand for the national anthem each day, for example.

The one thing that's different, though, is that many are Christian. Most homes here display a portrait of the Virgin Mary. There's also a church in the village that everyone attends on Sundays.

Nevertheless, all the children know Buddhist chants and there seems no barrier between the faiths.

We all did our best when it came to the teaching - given that none of us have any education training. I taught grade-three students. We shared with them our lives in Bangkok and even taught them a little English and maths.

After morning classes, the fun got physical with afternoon sports sessions. Our focus as volunteers was on fun rather than burdening the children with too much theory.

One night the volunteers dressed up in traditional Akha costume, joining some - but not all - of the villagers. I asked one woman dressed in a T-shirt and sarong why she had opted out. "It's too complicated to put on," she shrugged. Just to don the head-dress traditionally worn by married women can take as long as 15 minutes. And then there's the strain of wearing it - after trying one out, I can confirm they are very heavy.

On our last day there was a palpable sense of something strange - a mix of happiness and sadness.

The volunteers were made to feel like celebrities and all were asked to leave addresses.

We all sang a song to say goodbye and the children and their families asked me tearfully when I would be back. I was careful not to promise too much, because I don't really know when I'll be visiting again.

However, back in Bangkok, my thoughts are still with the Akha: the hospitality, the lively and thoughtful children, and the camaraderie of my volunteer friends.

Memories of my time in the hills keep resurfacing - I just know I'll be going back again, soon.

Nitida Asawanipont

 The Nation

CHIANG RAI