Myanmar

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Chapter One

It was technically my second day in Myanmar and my first day in Yangon. I had spent a whole day border-crossing from Maesot Thailand and boarded an overnight bus to Yangon from Myawaddy. Checked into a guest house in downtown Yangon, then watched a Burmese movie at Mingalar Cinema nearby from 10am-12pm. After that, I walked around downtown area to search for lunch.

I saw a stall selling mixed vegetables noodles in claypots and I walked towards there, point to the noodles a customer was having, and made a gesture indicating ‘one’. I put down my water bottles and sat there watching the vendor preparing my food.

A man who sat next to me spoke to me in Thai, his name is Korn. From my basic understanding of Thai language, I guessed he asked me whether I was travelling from Thailand or I was Thai nationals.

Surprised, I smiled, shook my head a little and replied:’Mai Chay, Pen Khon Malaysia’. (No, I am Malaysian). He was amused and confused, then asked in English: ’How did you learn to speak in Thai if you are not Thai?’

I then explained that I just finished my exchange study in Thailand, and before that I had learnt basic Thai for 4 months.

'Are you Thai?'

'No, I am Myanmar citizen.'

'Then how come you can speak Thai if you are not Thai?'

It turned out he was a Tai-Yai ethnic Myanmar citizen whose mother tongue closely related to Thai.

I asked: ’Why did you ask whether I am Thai? Do I look like a Thai person?’ I didn’t even say a word in English or Thai before he asked me whether I was a Thai.

He pointed at my Singha water bottle I brought from the border town in Thailand. I had no idea that Singha water was not sold in Myanmar, that’s why he knew I visited/came from Thailand before this.

It is interesting how carrying some labels would spark the conversation like this. It was a bunch of coincidences happened that led to the beginning of my first friendship in Myanmar. If you asked me a year ago whether I would be taking Thai to study as foreign language, I would probably answer ‘maybe, I’ll see’ with ambiguous tone. Then I went exchange study in Thailand. I chose Thailand for many reasons. But the chances that I will be going to another country was just as high. Travelled around in mainland southeast Asia after finals. Then sat down at a randomly chosen noodle stalls, next to a Thai speaking Myanmar minority.

From the brief conversation, I learnt that he was a medicine school drop-out due to financial difficulty at home, now working at an agribusiness mobile app social start-up. Worked odd jobs to support himself after dropping out. An intellectual constrained by the malfunctional political and economic system in Myanmar. But he still made it somehow which impressed me I must admit. My eclectic background also opened up lots of conversations and the talk continued until we met for dinner later that day.

His office was close to my guest house in downtown Yangon. He recommended a Shan cuisine restaurant (Shan is his home state) for dinner. We talked and I shared my first day experience in Yangon. And after we are done eating, I thought, 'okay that’s it for today', I would probably go back to my room and watch The Office until I fall asleep.

Then before we asked for the bill, he was messaging his flatmate and he talked to me in a casual manner:’ emm I think I wanna have a drink today, you should join me and my friends.’

I replied immediately to avoid awkward rejection or hesitation, and said:’Sueure, why not.’ He replied me with a smile in his usual calm manner and said:’ hehe, why not yea’.

After we paid for the meal and we boarded on a bus. I still had no idea where he was gonna bring me, who would be there, what drinks (heavy liquor? Beer?).

‘So all your flatmates will join us?’

‘Emm, not all, a few of them’ He replied in his casual calm manner again.

(That’s ambiguous, giving a specific number shouldn’t be difficult!)

‘Oh okay, so what do you all drink for occasion like this’

‘We will go to a liquor store later can we can choose from there’

(Again, that’s ambigious, where?)

‘Wait, we are not drinking in a bar?’ (at least a public place seem safer I thought)

‘No, we will drink at my room’ He answered matter-of-factly and looked confused at my question.

(SHIT, I am travelling in a foreign city and go drink with a stranger at his place, I think I will be locked up and kidnapped or robbed!!)

I started to feel uncomfortable on the public bus but he was still in his usual calm manner and looking at the window. He seemed so calm that as if he invited strangers to his place to drink often. Then he said something to break the silence.

‘I told you this afternoon that I worked in Malaysia before, right?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘I was staying illegally.’ Looked at me, smiled, expecting a surprise reaction from me.

I was half surprised and half shocked. I was sitting next to a social deviant and was going to drink in his unknown flat. I thought I was gonna get murdered. I felt nauseated, I put my left arm on the seat in front and rested my forehead on it. I told him the bus was too bumpy I felt like throwing up.

‘That’s impossible, you just rode 10 hours bus from Myawaddy to Yangon and you told me you had enough sleep on the bus.’

(That’s true, I lied, I was simply getting uncomfortable with him.)

He added, ‘By the way, do you bring your passport with you?’

‘No, it is in my hostel’s locker. Should I bring it out?’

‘You are foreigner here, you should! But for me, I lost my ID card a month ago, I do not have an ID card at the moment.’

(This guy stayed illegally in a foreign country before and now he doesn’t have an ID card. He seems really comfortable not abiding laws, maybe he is comfortable with kidnapping foreigner too……and why is he interested with my passport anyway??)

Chapter 2

We got off the bus and walked through a few dark dirty alleys. The paths were dark but it didn’t feel spooky because many bicycles and people were also passing by.

Since there was no way I can runaway I thought I might confess to him that I was worried.

‘Hey bro, I feel it is getting creepy and I am worried, seriously. But no offense.’

‘No, why offense? You didn’t say anything. And you shouldn’t worry’ He said in a tone as if I was being ridiculous.

I let off a nervous laugh and said,’I have all the reasons to be worried okay. This is my first day in Yangon and we just became friends.’

‘Yea, we are friends, no worries, my friends are nice people too.’

I calmed myself a little, and tried to sound relaxed, I replied, ‘alright, cool.’

After a few turns and suddenly it appeared a decent mini market with bright light and air-conditioning. He went straight to pick a Grand Royal, a Myanmar whiskey. I bought a Tiger Light to signal him my intention to stay sober. I told him I need to get back to my hostel tonight. He assured me he will bring me back to the main street to get a cab when we finished drinking.

We walked past a few slum houses and into a dimly lit alley, without seeing clearly what building it was, we went up to the stairs and the flat was on the first floor.

The studio-flat was around 30 meter square, with a small kitchen, a bathroom, a toilet, and a common area that can fit exactly 6 single beds. The walls were mouldy in contrast with the bright color paint, the bathroom was slippery with the moulds on floor tiles. There were mosquitoes nets half hanging around the living room area.

Chapter 3

We tried to make some space in the kitchen area, a total of 4 guy including me sitting together. Besides, korn and me, there was a friend of Burmese ethnic who didn’t speak any word of English. The other one was a Kachin ethnic friend who recently quitted his job at Hard Rock Café because his manager did not share the service charge that was supposed to be share among all waiters and bartenders.

There was a very calm ambience that didn’t make me feel awkward as an outsider. The conversations began with simple questions of introduction then to cigarettes and alcohols then to songs, movies then to Myanmar politics. Around the table, there were 3 myanmar nationals and 1 Malaysian (me). Each of us was of different ethnicities, a Burmese (majority ethnic in Myanmar, a Kachin, Shan, Han-Chinese).

The conversations were fruitful and interesting, each of us shared our own views and I was especially fortunate to hear the personal opinions are a Myanmar citizens on sensitive topics.

Chapter 4

‘How old are you?’ One of them asked.

‘Twenty two’

Two of them raised eyebrows then looked among themselves.

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘We think you are a little too young to be travelling’

‘No I am not too young, twenty-two is already over the age of an adult.’

‘Yea, that’s not what we are talking about. I mean at the age of twenty two we were still struggle to save money into bank every month.’

‘Ohh I see’, feeling a little guilty and then I asked, ’How old are you all now?’

’24’, ‘23’, ‘26’

‘I see, so we all are around the same age, haha.’ As if I am making an interesting point but not really.

Have I ever thought that I am too young to travel? When I was teenager, I had a strong desire to see the world outside. I would make short trips to cities in my own country and walked around as if I discovered some places nobody else knew. I watched movies set in America, Europe, parts of Asia and other lesser-known countries and cities out of curiosity. I am happy and grateful that I am able to travel around and out of country at this age. I do not need to see the Effiel Tower or Statue of Liberty to take a postcard photo or an instagram-worthy picture. My travel interest is mainly about observing how things work at the other part of the world, relate the differences and similarities between places I have been. And to be honest, I am kind of over the sight-seeing phase. That’s why my parents and friends might feel that my travels are boring because I seldom put up pictures of me posing next to a postcard destination.

There was about 100ml of the whiskey left in the bottles and I still haven’t touched one drop of it.

‘Hey, finish this, you are not gonna have fun without this.’ Korn said.

‘Alright, I poured the remaining drops into my cups and mixed it with some coke and finished them in two gulps. I knew this few amount of whiskey wouldn’t do me any harm. And most importantly, I knew that they wouldn’t do me any harm.

The alcohol was finished, but we still felt like there were more to talk. We then got another bottle and finished two packs of Red Ruby cigarettes.

Until at one point, which I couldn’t recall when, I felt the urge to throw up. I rushed to the toilet and spent good amount of time there emptying my stomach. We then called it a day and I ended up spending the night there and let the mosquitoes feasted on my semi-conscious drunken body while I slept.

Chapter 5

It was new year’s eve, I took a taxi to Korn’s house and we decided that we would have BBQ to celebrate the new year with all my new friends in Myanmar, well they all were korn’s flatmates. We went shopping at City Mart nearby his house and bought ingredients and a portable BBQ grill.

On the way home, we passed by a liquor store. They walked in and bought 4 dozen cans of beer, Myanmar and Singha.

‘When we have fun, we do it all the way.’ He said.

Of course, I laughed lightly, and thought ‘why not’. I always wanted to drink like this on fun occasion. My friends and family are usually too careful with alcohol because they have to work tomorrow or whatever self-inhibiting reasons.

This was my first time having BBQ indoor. Yes Indoor. We burnt the charcoal at the door near the stairwells. The neighbours upstairs must have hated us that day. This is what happens when I say ‘why not’ to ‘almost’ everything. I would never have the chance to do this at home, although I really would not want to do it. You do not want your mattress smells like charcoal and BBQ smoke for the rest of a new year.

The fire stabilised after thirty minutes and we moved the stove indoor. And we started to eat and drank and smoked and talked and occasionally sang with the lyrics and musics from the phone from 4pm until the night. After 6 hours, I began to feel headache and nauseated. It was only about 11pm and I was already down. They were even more energetic as the time marched towards a brand new year.

I chewed a betel nut and immediately came back alive! I followed one of them sang a 90s English song and then I was dead again. The psychoactive effect was fast to come and also faded very quickly.

One of my observation in Myanmar is that betel nuts stalls are more concentrated than coffee/tea house, whereas in Thailand, drinks stalls are as concentrated as betel nuts stalls but in city area in Thailand, betel nut stands are really hard to find, except for in measot. So we can conclude that the Myanmar people are addicted to betel nuts, Thai are addicted to sugary drinks. (Malaysian likes iced sugary milk coffee and tea, Indonesian are addicted to strong black coffee with cigarettes).

From one of my sociological reading, Marx had optimistic views on human who have more leisure time than work time. He thought that people will utilise free time to pursue their intellectual interest and make or build something, play music instruments, paint artsy stuff, in short, make the world more vibrant with their intellectual capabilities. But sadly in reality, many people indeed like mental stimulation, but clearly many more people prefer passive stimulation with psychoactive substance without productive outcome.

The next day, I woke up fresh as a cucumber without hangover. I spent the whole afternoon and evening at their house. At 4 pm, I followed Tarzan the burmese to the market along the railway. I must say that the market was dirty but it was more interesting to see a real dirty food market than the touristy train market selling Chinese made souveniers in Thailand.

I helped out cooking and we had a quiet dinner later. Deep inside, I was very sad knowing that this would be the last 2 hours I would be spending with them. I tried not to say too much, afraid of saying awkward stuff. Korn gave me a book called ‘The Shan in Burma’ as a goodbye gift. At 8pm, he brought me down to the main street and hailed a cab. Shook hands and light hug then we said each other goodbye.

It was very emotional of me while on the cab to bus station. My solo travels began with little fun and some boredom and depression. In Myanmar it was loads of fun when I met these guys. Soon when I reached Mandalay, I knew I would be travelling alone soon. I was not sure I wanted to meet anymore new people on the journey as I knew chances were we would only be exchanging a few meaningless words in the dormitory then we would separate on our own ways.

Chapter 6

I reached Mandalay at one of the highway bus station, got scammed by one of the desperate motorcycle taxi who insisted to give me a 8km ride to city centre. It was a rainy morning, there was no way I was getting on a motorcycle and to suffer the chill for a not-so-cheap motor ride. I told him I wanted a car taxi because the weather was too cold and it was dangerous to ride while raining.

‘Ok, I will send you to your hotel in a car for 5000kyat. Come, I bring you to my car.’

‘Really? I was pleasantly surprised because 5000kyat for 8km ride is around the market rate. So I agreed and hopped on his rickety bike. He circled the bus station and he was looking around for vacant taxi.

‘Where is your car?’

No reply.

‘You don’t have a car, do you?!’

‘Yes, I have a car. I am looking for a car to take you.’

‘What? So you don’t have a car! Stop now,’

‘No,my car is here.’

‘Which one? Stop now, it is fucking cold!’

‘Noo, I need moneeey’ He scream lightly while trembling in a cold rain.

‘Stop now!’ I demanded. He stopped and shouted to one of the taxi driver waiting around. He talked to the driver and told him that I will pay 5000kyat for the ride to city centre. Then he helped me put my backpack into the back of the car and knocked on the window of my seat.

‘Five hundred’ He shouted in the rain and showed me his palm with his 5 fingers spreading wide.

‘Why? Why five hundred?’

‘For finding a car.’

‘What? The car is right here! It is not even far, you told me you had a car. And this not your car.’

‘500, this is my car, he is my brother, our car’

I was pissed off and tried to ignore him.

He knocked on my window again. It was my first say in Mandalay and for some stereotype brown skinned drivers always have bad reputation back in my country. I gave in, I paid him 300 kyat and he happily walked away.

Chapter 7

When I got to the hotel and paid for a single room with aircond. I washed all the dirty clothes and let them dry under air-conditioner. I couldn’t go out to see the city because it was drizzling all day. By the time the rain stopped, the roads were already flooded and almost impossible to walk without soaking your feet into the 2 inches deep into the mud water.

I stayed in room and thinking back of the fun I had and the friends I met and missed the warm sun in Yangon. Naturally the depression and loneliness hit.

Then it was around 9pm, Korn called me on messenger and I saw my new old-friends again.

‘I am going to back to my hometown tomorrow after work, do you wanna come with me?’

I agreed out of spontaneity and the next 30 minutes I already booked our bus tickets and tried to defer my flight home. I was supposed to be back on 5^th Jan but I decided to stay and travel for a few more days.

The next day, I wander around Mandalay city and watched The Greatest Showman to kill times, teared in the cinema at any arbitrary scene for no particular reasons, the loud musical did provoked some emotions. Then I boarded a bus to Taungyi at 10am.

Chapter 8

After 8 hours of bus ride from Mandalay, 12 hours from Yangon, our buses stopped at different places in Taunggyi. But we met at a car rental shops in Taunggyi city centre and had Shan noodles for breakfast then we boarded a shared cab to his hometown Laihka.

It was a 4 hours ride. Some roads were winding and narrow. We passed a few check points where the officer checked the drivers’ licenses. I was told not to speak a word because the inner areas are restricted areas, foreigners are not allowed. Since I have an oriental face just like anyone of them. I even kept my hair longer than my usual length and messes them a little, kept a little bit of my patch facial hair to look more rugged and local.

When reached korn’s house, he was greeted warmly with hugs from his cousins and brother. His sister-in-law cooked some chicken broth for hotpot dinner that evening to welcome the city boy of the family home. I ate with them, exchanged a few Thai words and smiled when I ‘mai kao jai’ (don’t understand’.)

The first night we went out with his brothers and cousins to have mookrata for supper. For one and a half hours I was smiling at their conversations which I cannot understand a word. Maybe a few words, but totally had no idea what were they talking about. I had to keep an interested face and smile to avoid looking rude and bored. The beers and cigarettes definitely helped in situation like this. When we finished dinner and everybody was high on beer, we rode the motorcycles in the 15c night temperature and we stopped by a roadside stand to buy mentol cigarettes and betel nuts to push the satisfaction to peak before we called it a day. The mentol cigarette tasted awesome, it was thinner and longer than usual. It was soothing to the lung and very stimulating. Each of us chewed betel nuts on the motor ride home and spitting out the betel juice without a care in the strong cold wind. What a life. When reached his home, his brother brought us their homemade rice wine, the byproduct of the fermented food for his pigs. They sell the rice wine in the village at 500kyat for 1 litre. So the first night, I was already intoxicated with substances from cigarette, betel nuts and alcohols.

On the second day, I visited his family farms and his other relatives’ houses. They were curious about korn’s life in the city and his foreign friend whom he brought home. His grandmother even invited me to have a sleepover at her house. It was difficult for me to turn down their kind offer, I had to politely turn down the offer saying I would just follow korn, cannot decide for myself.

After that, we visited his grandaunt’s house. His grandaunt’s family looked a little less well off than his family. There was no proper kitchen and the house was walled with knitted bamboo sheets. We spent around 30 minutes there. When we were about to leave, his grandaunt insisted us to stay for dinner. Korn and his brother didn’t seem interested to stay for longer, then they asked me whether I wanted to dine here. I said if she hadn’t prepared, we wouldn’t trouble her for the meal.

She hadn’t prepared, but she insisted and said, ‘please eat just a little.’ We were moved by her warm insistence so we stayed and had Shan noodles besides the outdoor kitchen. The lifestyle of the family was very traditional. The young girl was busying herself helping the grandaunt preparing dinner and serve water to us. When she was freed of work while we were busy eating, she stood next to our knee-height table like a waitress anticipating our orders.

After finishing the meal, which was very nice, I expressed my appreciation to the grandaunt with a hearty ‘Jom Yaw Khaaa’ (Thank you in Shan language) and closed palms with small nod.

At night later, korn and his little brother and I went for supper and bought around 15 beers. After eating, we drove next to a pond with lotus plant. We drank beers and smoked cigarettes, korn and his brother talked about their lives when they were apart. I listened though cannot understand 99% of the words and was appreciating the peace and calm of this moment, with the kind people I just knew.

On the third day, I followed korn’s family to visit his father at another town. We set off at 7am and reached his father’s farm around 9am. The last time he saw his father was before he went to Malaysia in late 2014. So it has been more than 3 years they hadn’t seen each other. We spent the day helping out at the field. The farm workers were still using the traditional manual labour to get the grain off the paddy stalks. It was tiring work under such hot Sun, fortunately there was cool wind once in a while for brief comfort. And korn told me that the workers only got 2500kyat (2 dollars) for the 6 hours work under the sun. For these labours from the mountain village, other than working in farm, they would entertain themselves with substances provided by the underground military connections. It was very sad to see their lives being so restricted to the outside world and the drugs would only corrupt their future and future generation in the underdeveloped village.

We didn’t plan to stay for the night, but when his father learnt that we were leaving in the evening. He shed his man’s tear a little bit. So we decided to spend the night at his father’s new home.

The next morning, korn’s dad’s new wife’s mother cooked the breakfast for us, typical shan’s meal, rice, minced meat with vegetables, fried fish and fried tofu with dipping sauce. Apart from the undercooked rice, it was a delicious meal. Then we left around 10 and reached korn’s house at 12pm. We hired a car driver to drive us to Taunggyi to take a bus back to Yangon.

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Photos

One the way to a small village in Shan State
Foreigners are not allowed to visit there, so the village/town name shall not e mentioned here