
My knuckles turn white as I grip the bar on the roof and nod to the three men standing beside me. It’s a cool January morning as we slowly drive past the Mae Sot Police Station. I look down at my feet to make sure I’m securely standing on the tailgate. The sawngthaew (a covered pick-up truck with two lines of benches) slows and we turn south towards the village…[Read More]
