Blind Faith: Burmese refugee lost his sight in war, seeks to reunite with family in Chicago

Min Niang lives for a phone call. When it rings, he prays it is his wife, Manoi, whom he has known since he was 16 but has spent more time away from than with her. She lives in a refugee camp in Thailand, and he in an assisted living apartment for the visually impaired on the 5500 block of North Maplewood in Roger's Park.

Min's world is a dark and foreign one "“ he was blinded by explosives in 1997 in his war-torn homeland of Myanmar, more commonly known as Burma, in southeast asia. His English is poor, his room's wall are bare and devoid of pictures or momentos; he has no family within 8,000 miles.

Min is 33, and most of the visually impaired residents in Friedman Place are twice his age. The thin Asian man is famous among the facility's caretakers - his story has a weight that draws people to him. Some call him, quiet and infinitely polite, an inspiration and source of great strength.

Burma is a green and hilly nation in southeast Asia between Thailand, India and China. A little smaller than Texas, Burma population are largely poor rice farmers, and since 1962 it has been controlled by a variety of military juntas, or dictatorships.

Min tells his story slowly, pausing to find the right words, or to act them out with his hands. He tells me he was born in 1972 in the capital, Rangoon City, on the southern coast. His father was a truck driver and died in a car crash and his mother and he, along with six siblings, had to fix boats, sew clothes and pick rice to earn a living.

In 1988, students began revolting by the thousands against the oppressive military regime, and on august 8 1988, known by protestors as "8-8-88," the government crushed pro-democracy protests, installed a new leader and changed the country's name to Myanmar. It began hyper-militarization of the country and student activists formed their own military to force a revolution.

"Burmese people want democracy," he said. "The protested the government, and the government killed people. A lot of people died."

Min wasn't interested in the revolution "“ he wanted to be a dancer like his mother, or a singer. In 1991, when he was 16, Min was kidnapped from his mother's side and forced into the military. He was told if he didn't fight he would be killed. He and other teens were trained for 6 months, then sent out into he jungle to fight the insurgents. He never saw his family again, and faced atrocities in that jungle "“ saw innocent men murdered, women raped and villages burnt to the ground. He longed to escape.

On leave one day in 1992, he met a young farmer's daughter named Manoi. The two dated and fell in love and pledged to marry. But when his unit moved later that year they were separated, and his heart fell. He saw men escape, only to be brought back by troops, who either zealously beat them or had their own comrades and friends do the deed themselves.
The next year, Min and five friends escaped into the Burmese jungles. The military sent more than a 100 troops after him, killing two of his friends early on. Min took refuge in the huts of villages who were resisting the junta, and eventually found the underground movement he was fighting against. He was welcomed into their ranks and spent the next few years in the jungles fighting against the government forces that had enslaved him.

One evening in 1997, a mortar shell exploded next to Min and his friend. His friend's head was blown off, and Min suffered burns on his face, hand, head and eyes. He lost most of his vision that day, but the revolutionaries rescued him and took him back to their camp.

After escaping arrest time and time again and making his way across mountains and jungles on his hands and knees, he located some villagers who took pity on him and helped him make his way into Thailand to the east. There he saw a doctor for the first time in six years. The doctor said there was no hope of him ever seeing anything again.

While applying for refugee status in 2004 at the United Nations embassy in Thailand, Manoi recognized him and fell crying to her knees. She said that she had waited for him to no avail, and after some years married and had a child. Her husband died a few years ago from malaria and she was now a single mother. Min and Manoi, like something out of storybook, slowly rebuilt their relationship and were married March 15, 2005.

Sadly, less than a month later Min was relocated to a refugee camp. His marriage to Manoi was not considered legal because he was technically an illegal immigrant, and he was sent alone to the United States in partnership with a war relief agency. The U.S. government now pays for his Medicare and regular expenses. He has applied for a green card and hopes to get it soon.

Min speaks to Manoi 4 times a month on the phone. He has no idea where his family is, but heard from a friend that his mother passed away. Manoi is trying to take a test to become a refugee and come to America, but her test date has been postponed again and again.

Min is dignified and incredibly kind, and when he speaks of Manoi he breaks into a smile.
He waits for her, as time marches slowly, slowly forward.

A friend, Koko Oo helps him translate how he feels.

"I am now alone. I am lucky now, but I am lonely. I have no family. I am not sure I can live with my wife and [daughter]. I don't know. I have no contact with my family, my sisters and brother"¦ I don't know my future."

"I am very worried about Manoi. I think a lot about her, every second, every minute. I only worry about her."