Bangkok seems to grow on me the more I go, yet I suspected this short visit would be the last for a while. We met up with Paul and for the next 2 days ran around getting Visas and perfectly crisp US dollars, as Burma only accepts and exchanges local currency for brand spankin new USD's. We were told that banks in Bangkok are aware of this and could easily accommodate this need, yet somehow we searched for an an entire afternoon, to no avail. I ended up sprinting 1km at the end of the day to reach a particular bank before closing. Since I'd been engaging in my hobby of running less and less frequently, this was uncomfortable enough to remind me I needed a good run.
Marj and I paid the Peace Corps staff a visit and later that night, Kevin the Country Director took Marj, Paul and myself out for dinner; the visits were great and brought back positive memories. The second night, we not-so-surprisingly ran into American Nick (the guy we consistently and randomly bumped into while in Laos with the "hey guys") and hung out on Khao San Road listening to amazing live music with the most passionate drummer I've ever seen, while sipping Leo beers on ice. It doesn't get much better than that.
The following, and last night in Bangkok before our early morning flight to Burma, Marj, Paul and I hung out drinking until we had to get in a cab for the airport. This was a major set-up for an exhausted arrival into the city of Yangon, but it was a really good time.
We arrived in Yangon airport and were picked up by a driver from the guesthouse we were staying in (Motherland Inn 2). Marj and the young Burmese driver hit it off (grandmama and grandson) and he gave Marj his cell phone number in case she needed help at some point. The first person we met and I was already in love with him....too sweet. At the guesthouse we ate breakfast while waiting for our room and in the interim, Paul met a young English journalist, Rory, who was interning in Yangon. Rory informed Paul that our first night in Yangon was the Opening Ceremony to Myanmar's very first film festival (being held in Yangon) which was focusing on human rights. Myanmar has a spectacularly oppressive history and we knew this was going to be huge.
A chilled out afternoon led us to the Opening Ceremony with Rory, Tanya (cool Canadian chick) and Chris (Singapore/American) which hosted impressive speakers from all over the world. Aung San Suu Kyi (by most Burmese aka Auntie) couldn't attend but had someone read a speech on her behalf. After speeches were completed, one of the documentaries featuring a young political prisoner from the 1988 Revolution was shown. It was a powerful film that was informative and frustrating, yet hopeful.
Here's a quick bit on Burma's history. While talking, I almost always use Burma, but within the text I use both Burma and Myanmar interchangeably. Myanmar is made of various states with many different ethnic groups whom, historically, have experienced discrimination and prejudiced treatment. Burma was a British colony until 1947 when Aung San, political leader, led his people to fight and gain independence from England. Amongst many positive things, Aung San and this party agreed to give the ethnic groups what they have always desired, to be independent states. The agreement was that these states could secede within 10 years of the nations independence (1958), but sadly and not so ironically, Aung San and 6 other leaders were assassinated (by the oppressors) before seeing the agreement through. Destabilization within the country was almost immediate. Since, there have been multiple violent coup's and revolutions within the country, killing and imprisoning thousands. Human rights have been notoriously abused over the years.
Aung San died when his daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi (Auntie) was only 2 years old. She carried on with her life until she was drawn to help her country and continue the mission her father sought after so many years ago. She, amongst thousands of others were made political prisoners after the 1988 revolution (3,000 protestors killed by military coup). Aunty spent a total of 12 years in house arrest and has become the face, savior and desired leader of Burma. The current military government have found various "legal" reasons to prevent her from running, yet there is hope that in 2015 she will be able to be elected. Let's keep our fingers crossed.
Currently, my understanding of the political sitch is such that the states want to elect representatives to make state laws, similar to America's state vs. federal concept. The intention is to strip the oppressive military government of its power but also for each state to be represented by their distinct ethnic group and have some laws unique to their own. Originally, in 1947, an official secession was to be granted therefore I'm not sure if this a compromise or simply a new goal.
**The original name of the country was Burma and it was changed to Myanmar to be inclusive of all the ethnic groups. Although the concept of inclusion is positive, it was changed without ever consulting the people and for this reason, Auntie prefers Burma. The people use both, yet while I was there, I heard Burma being used most often.
After the ceremony, we had dinner at the first of many tea houses we would sit in throughout our time in Burma. It's where all the Burmese people go and it's a culture unto itself. Obviously, there's tea, but there's also coffee and a few various Burmese dishes available. The staff, about five 13 year old boys, were paralyzed when they saw us enter the teahouse and brought over a man from a different store who spoke some English to help us order. Despite these efforts, miscommunication caused three extra, unordered meals to come out. They were super grateful when we said we would still pay for the food and to box it up for take-away.
The next morning we were up and at em' crazy early for a sunrise at Schwedagon pagoda, the most significant and well known in the country. Every-day people were there going about their religious business of making merit (give offerings to the monks and pagoda, including chant prayers, etc) as though it was any other temple, giving me the first taste of authenticity regarding Burmese Buddhism. Nothing seemed to be for show, just a pure, strong following of beliefs. Many monks were present, meditating in solitude, while others were a bit different. One monk approached me to chat away while another shamelessly took photos of each of us on his phone. The fact that he even had a phone was quite un-Buddhist of him, but we got a good chuckle out of it anyway.
Later that morning, we all made our way to the cinema to attend the first showing including 3 films. The first, Go Home, was about Burmese refugees who've crossed the border into Thailand, living amongst the rubbish dumps to earn a living of picking and selling recyclables. The poor health conditions and this youth patrol to guard against thieves at night, brought tears to my eyes. The second film Agape, about a community of illegal Burmese refugees in Thailand. Most of the kids there were sold by their parents, orphaned or ran away from their dangerous villages (1 kid said the military government went to his village and beheaded people - the rebellion army recruits young children to fight back and he left to avoid recruitment). David, an awesome Burmese guy in the village opened a school with everything he had and various donations to help the children and community. It was inspiring. The last was regarding the dangers a North Korean family faces in their escape to safety in South Korea. All were impressive and insightful and afterwards, we were lucky to meet the festival organizer and pay our respects and admiration for his enormous accomplishment.
Marj stayed for every showing while Paul land I went for a city walking tour including: Inya lake, Auntie's house where she was imprisoned, another pagoda and market. We stopped at a tea house for lunch that was also staffed by a bunch of young boys, clearly excited to be serving us. We began to wonder why none of these kids were at school.
Later that night I took a walk and got some Shan noodles on the street. Through charades and a few english words, it was understood that I don't eat meat. I got excited when they handed my bowl to me and there was a spoonful of chick peas (garbanzo beans), my favorite bean of all time, on top. I dug in and in the first bite realized the beans was actually chicken. Everybody at the little stand was watching me anyway to see my reaction to the food, and I looked up and said "chicken" and they said "yes, chicken" and I said "no meat please" and they said, " no meat, chicken". Gotta love it. It was all dealt with smoothly however as they just scooped the pile of chicken off of the noodles, handed it back to me and charaded "eat", so that's what I did. And it was damn good.
Next morning we were up early to make our way to the Golden Rock.
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