Sueños varados: Las experiencias de los migrantes birmanos en el sector turístico tailandés, entre la pandemia y el golpe de estado militar

It is early January 2022, and this is my third visit to Koh Tao, Thailand since last year. I am driving around the island with my good friend Phyo Oo when he blurts out: ‘You know, Sofie, I have lost my dream.’ During the past two years, he and the fifty other Myanmar workers I have interviewed have dealt not only with the devastating economic impacts of COVID-19 but also the military coup. For the vast majority, their dream and purpose of being in Thailand to buy land, construct a house, and return to their families are now on hold. At the same time, they are mostly unable to send back money. In May 2021, Maung Lin told me, ‘I am worried about my family in Myanmar. We cannot call each other. I do not know what is going on right now in my home, and I also cannot support them financially. As you know, we have no job here.’ The double pressure of COVID-19 and the situation in Myanmar causes immense distress. After a short hopeful break, their country is again back on the long road of dictatorship and, in anger and frustration, they follow the increasing conflict and grave human rights violations closely. Moe Khaing expressed her despair about the situation: ‘I have lost my dream, and I think I am not alone. It is all people in Myanmar. Now, our life is meaningless; we do not have enough work here, and we cannot return. We are kind of nothing. Useless.’ Yet, despite their own challenges, many donate what they can to the resistance movement, and collect clothes to send to refugees on the border.

While Thailand is known for its good food and kind and accommodating people, Burmese women and men cook and serve the Phad Thai tourists order in popular destinations such as the famous scuba diving island of Koh Tao. Indeed, not only Thais and foreign owners feel the impacts of COVID-19, but also the many Myanmar workers that put a friendly face to ‘The Land of Smiles.’ Of the previously 8,000 Myanmar workers on Koh Tao, 7,000 have had to find jobs elsewhere. Those who remain suffer the consequences of un- and underemployment, and some work the same hours for much lower salaries. Tun Min works the same nine hours but has had his pay cut in half to 7,500 Thai baht a month (230 USD). His wife lost her job, and he laments: ‘We have forgotten about our plans to save up and only think about day-to-day survival now’. Aye Aye shares a similar experience and works twelve hours a day for 5,000 baht a month (150 USD). Others like Than Win have had both their salary and hours cut: ‘During COVID, I only work 15 days and get only between 2,000 and 3,000 baht’. There are many such examples, and for some, the pay is lower than the 325 baht (10 USD) daily minimum wage. Labour rights violations are not new, even in a remunerative sector for migrant workers, compounded by the high cost of living on Koh Tao, and the expensive visas and work permits that Myanmar workers often pay for themselves to get jobs. Nevertheless, violations have increased during the pandemic, and consequently, life in Koh Tao has become precisely what they tried to escape in Myanmar: day-to-day survival.

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