Keeping Faith
Thu’s Journey from the “Jungle” to Florida
Written by Daniella Kapuschansky
Edited by Kayla Byrd & Seyeon Hwang
Illustrated by Gina Nguyen
Thu Lai Mu is a Pastor at the Southside Karen Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Florida. As a Karen minority, he left Burma (Myanmar) at the age of 14 and lived in a refugee camp at the Thailand-Burma border for 15 years until he was resettled in the U.S.
Editor’s Note: The name “Burma” is the English name for the country currently known as Myanmar. The country was officially called Burma during and after the British colonial rule until the present-day name, Myanmar, replaced it in 1989. Throughout this article, the names Burma and Myanmar are interchangeably used. The Karen are an ethnolinguistic group known to reside primarily in Kayin State in Myanmar and make up about 7% of the Myanmar population.
Thu (far left) with his son (middle) and wife (far right) (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
In 1995, when I was around fourteen years old, my family and I fled from our village, Pyapon, Myanmar (Burma).
A civil war had broken out and it soon became a very imminent threat to our lives. We had to leave. The media nicknamed it the “World’s Longest Civil War”.
We fled from village to village as the government closed in on us. There were no cars or buses, so we had to walk and carry our belongings on our back. Eventually, there was no place left for us to run to, and we had no other choice than to cross the Salween River and get into Thailand.
At that time, it was fairly easy to cross the Thailand-Burma border. The Thai government didn’t care about Burmese refugees entering Thailand and living there unofficially.
However, as more people fled to Thailand, more soldiers were dispatched to heighten the security at the border.
Nowadays, it is much more difficult to enter Thailand as a refugee.
Life in the “Jungle”
When we arrived in Thailand, we were placed in a refugee camp close to the border. They called it the “jungle.”
Thu at his home in the refugee camp (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
For the next 15 years, I lived there with my family and completed all the way through higher education.
Everyday Survival
Living in the refugee camp was not easy. We were caged within the camp, surrounded by wire fences. The Thai soldiers guarding the camp did not always provide the best protections. There were always dangers from the Burmese military and Democratic Karen Buddhist Armies that would come into the camps or throw guns over the camp walls.
We had to follow the strict, often excessive laws of the camp. But for us, it was better than fearing for our lives moving from place to place running away from the military.
Still, the life in the camp was extremely hard.
We needed a special permission that looked like a traveling ticket to go outside the camp. Traveling outside itself posed a great danger; we would be exposed to the military coming after us. But without the traveling ticket, we could be arrested and sent back to Burma right away. Even with the ticket, sometimes things didn’t work out, and some people were arrested and deported.
A photo of the Mae La Oon refugee camp located in Thailand where 79% of its residents are the Karen (Photo Credit: Burma Link)
There was a school, a hospital, churches, and vocational centers within the camp. The UNHCR (UN Refugee Agency) provided the basic necessities that could live on. They also provided us with building materials like bamboo and wood to build a small tented house. The roof was made of leaves collected from the nearby forest.
We were given basic food items such as rice, salt, oil, and peppers on a regular basis. Some Thai people were permitted to come in and sell other items or food to refugees. Using the grains and spices we were given, we would cook outside on the wood-fire we had to start every day.
Some were fortunate enough to work at the hospital or school in the camp to be paid a small salary through the UNHCR. Those with a relative willing to send money from another country, like the U.S. or Canada, were able to lead a slightly better life with the help of the cash they had at hand.
Thu posing in the refugee camp (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
A few people in the camp tried to run their own small businesses, like selling bread, milk, and other luxuries in the camp; however, most of them had a good connection with the people outside the camp who could supply them the goods at a price that met their profit margin. The remoteness of the camp made it challenging for people to pursue entrepreneurship.
Without any of these privileges, others, which made up most of us, survived off of what was given.
The camp didn’t have any electricity, either. When my family first came, it didn’t even have any running water, so I had to carry water from the river to our tent.
No Internet. No phone. Nothing.
Our entire lives were limited to the small boundary of what used to be a vacant, uninhabitable land set by the UNHCR packed with thousands of tents that could collapse in no time.
Getting Education
Even though there were schools that children went to, the educational experience was completely different from what you would expect.
There was no school bus; hence, everybody had to walk long hours to school rain or shine.
The building was usually made out of bamboo and leaves, so the roof had to be replaced every year. When I was there, there were no computers in school. We had to take our own school supplies to and from school every day because there were no lockers. No walls in the building meant that there were no separate classrooms. You could easily hear the noise from the rest of the class at all times even when you were trying to concentrate on the lesson. On Sundays, we attended the church set up in the camp.
Thu graduating from high school in the camp (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
By the time I finished high school, I did not think of becoming a minister.
However, I was determined to pursue a higher education.
Thu graduating from KKBBSC (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
Thu graduating from KKBBSC (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
In the camp, the Kawthoolei Karen Baptist Bible School & College (KKBBSC) Bible College was the only available institution of higher education. For the five years that followed, I attended the institution and studied there.
During that time, my life changed, and I developed a strong desire to become a minister.
A Hope for a Better Life
In 2005, the UNHCR announced the opening of the third country resettlement program.
Most of the people in the camp applied and ended up moving to a “third country” that was neither Myanmar (Burma) nor Thailand. Many of them went to Australia, Canada, and the U.S.
The first time I applied, I just wanted to get out of the camp. Knowing that Canada was a less sought-after destination, I applied but it didn’t work out for me because they were accepting only a small number of refugees.
Soon, I was told that the U.S. government was looking to resettle refugees who had lived in the camp for a long enough time on a refugee status. The criteria exactly matched myself who had been in the camp for the last 10 years.
So, I applied.
Initially, I was told that the process can take anywhere from six months to a year. A few months later, they sent us a register for the paperwork. I had to take extra caution to be accurate in all of the documents as any mismatch or gap in our papers could complicate the process and take much longer time. The process was tedious and exhausting but was worth it in the end.
After 5 years of applying, waiting, and reapplying, in 2010, I finally made it to the U.S.
At first, it was frightening because I did not know where exactly I was headed or what was going to happen to me or my family.
On the last day in the camp, I took the bus that took us to Bangkok, Thailand. From there, I took a long flight to Japan, and another one to New York City. Then, I got on a flight to Jacksonville, Florida.
On a warm, sunny day of June 2010, I arrived at the Jacksonville airport.
Upon landing, the other refugees and I held up an IOM badge that we were told to use for directions. The badge was to let people know that we were refugees waiting for the resettlement staff. Soon, we were greeted and welcomed by the volunteers and case managers from the Lutheran Social Services of Jacksonville.
Making it in Jacksonville, Florida
Thu speaking about his experience as a refugee with Seyeon Hwang for the oral history project, Remembering Refugees in Jacksonville, supported by the Florida Humanities Council and UF Samuel Proctor Oral History Program in April 2018 (Photo Credit: Seyeon Hwang)
In Jacksonville, I was fortunate to be joined by my whole family who had come before I did.
Now, all my family lives in the Southside area, not too far from each other. I have two brothers and two sisters who are all married and have their own families.
At first, my life in Jacksonville was a huge adjustment. My family and I had no one to help us with our questions or guide us at every step of our journey.
Even the smallest part of our lives required learning.
For instance, I was unfamiliar with electricity and didn’t know how to set the thermostat. In a hot, humid summer of Jacksonville, even with the air conditioner in place, none of my family had any idea of turning it on! To make matters worse, the temperature was close to 102 degrees. It took us some time to learn to use these amenities that we had not known before.
We also had a lot of difficulty learning to cook with the electric stove. Back in the camp, we had to start our own wood-fire to cook anything. The fact that we could simply turn on a machine and cook on it was fascinating; yet, we needed to be taught how to use it properly.
Public transportation was another challenge. Having lived most of my life in the camp, it was my first time navigating a city as large as Jacksonville. Due to the city being highly automobile-dependent, the minimal bus schedules made it difficult for me and my family to get around. This was especially harder when traveling as a large family. The average household size of the Karen refugees hovers at six or seven, and without a car and the ability to drive, a task as simple as moving from one point to another point in the city is close to impossible.
For the first three months, we were to get support from the two local resettlement agencies — Lutheran Social Services and World Relief Jacksonville. However, for Burmese refugees coming from the “jungle,” getting acclimated to the life of a large city posed much more difficulty as we had very little experience to go off of.
Soon, we began attending the Southside Baptist Church and they really helped us with many of the issues our community was struggling with.
Thu’s family posing with Pastor Gary Lee Webber (far right) at their church in 2019 (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
The volunteers at the church generously took us to the hospital and other appointments and provided support whenever we had questions about even the most basic things about Jacksonville. They also organized a group of volunteers, some of who were other Karen immigrants who had come before, to help us in our daily lives and offered classes in citizenship and English. These gracious efforts enabled us to to deal with the challenges of a lack of education and language barrier among Burmese refugees.
Becoming a Pastor
“I think when there’s so much negative stigma against immigration, having the Karen people here as an example of why immigration is not only good and valuable for us but also for them. It stands in stark contrast to what you’re hearing from politicians and in the media.
The Karen have broadened our vision for the world. To understand that our faith should not be limited by borders, language, skin color, or culture; but that we are a part of a global community and that our faith and the practice of our faith is something that transcends culture and nationality.”
— Pastor Gary, Southside Baptist Church
One day, I was asked by the Southside Baptist Church to lead a group. Having graduated from a Theological Seminary in Thailand, they saw my potential to serve the Karen people in the Jacksonville community.
Thu (dressed in a black gown) graduating from the Baptist College of Florida in 2013 (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
In 2012, the church officially brought me on staff and assigned me to be the Karen Pastor.
Since then, I have been helping my people with many things that they are unable to do by themselves. This includes: getting their green cards, going to the hospital, applying for citizenship, finding jobs, and commuting to workplaces, etc. I also pray for them and serve as an interpreter to help them overcome the language barrier.
Thu giving a sermon at the Southside Karen Baptist Church (SSKBC)
(Photo Credit: Southside Karen Baptist Church)
In 2018, we moved into our own church and began holding services dedicated to the Karen people. Our once small group has grown into the Southside Karen Baptist Church.
Father’s Day at the Southside Karen Baptist Church (Credit: SSKBC YouTube Channel)
Christmas congregation at the church in December 2019 (Photo Credit: Thu Lai Mu)
In the past couple years, our Karen community in Jacksonville has grown to be about a thousand people. We have a few hundred adult church members as well as their children. We also have others in our community that are not Christians or Baptists; many of our members are either Buddhists or represent other denominations.
Through the church, I am happy to welcome and serve anyone I possibly can regardless of their religious background.
Looking back, I notice so many differences I have come to embrace between my life in Jacksonville and that in the refugee camp. Seeing from my son and children at the church who have been raised in the U.S., these differences are even more apparent.
In Burma and Thailand, schools are not free and parents have to pay the tuition. The financial pressure leaves many children unable to afford education for all their lives. Here, I see bright and talented children being able to get public education for free to find their passion and pursue their dreams.
Thu (second from the lowest) from participating in a Christmas event with the members of the Karen community in December 2019 (Photo Credit: SSKBC)
Sometimes, these differences clash in the households of the Karen or Burmese families that I serve. For example, in Burma, leaving your children at home alone is allowed; but in the U.S., this is culturally unacceptable and illegal. As refugees, we have brought many of our traditions here, such as our traditional food, clothing, language and literature, but preserving and handing them down to the next generation is quite the challenge because of these differences.
As a former refugee and a current pastor, I recognize that one of my roles is to help the Karen and Burmese communities better understand and overcome these differences. I would like them to know that the differences we see are natural and do not define who we are as humans.
When Burma becomes safer for me, I would love to go back and visit, but I don’t intend to live there anymore. I see myself as an American and Jacksonvillian.
I will keep helping those in need of warmth and support in Jacksonville that I now call my home.
Disclaimer: The views, information, or opinions expressed in this article are those of the author or protagonist and do not necessarily represent those of WeaveTales and its employees.
Want to support Thu or the Karen community? CLICK HERE TO DONATE to the Southside Karen Baptist Church
This article is generously sponsored by Southside Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Florida. The editors thank Senior Pastor Gary Lee Webber for his contribution to this article.
This article is based on the oral history interview conducted with Thu Lai Mu in Jacksonville, Florida by Seyeon Hwang in May 2018 for the project titled, “Remembering Refugees in Jacksonville: Oral Histories of Resettled Refugees, 1999–2017” sponsored by the Florida Humanities Council and UF Samuel Proctor Oral History Program.
This article is a part of the series for Forward Together sponsored by Islamic Relief USA, Southern Poverty Law Center, Florida Immigrant Coalition, We Are All America, Welcoming Gainesville, ACLU Florida, Reyes Legal PLLC, Mubarak Law, Emgage, Law Office of Karen Winston, CAIR Florida, Human Rights Coalition of Alachua County, Women’s March Jacksonville, University of Florida Samuel Proctor Oral History Program, and Gators for Refugee Medical Relief.
Disclaimer: The views, information, or opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of WeaveTales and its employees.
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