There are many types of human chaos, but two seem to present themselves more often than others. The order of the day is the glaringly mechanical - planned, systematic, convenient and commercial, predictable, pre-packaged and microwavable, calculatingly manufactured for the optimization of human life; and then there is that lesser known chaos - the organic mass of humanity, flowing in no predictable order - a pattern that, try as you might you may, fails to establish. At times there is something to be said for chaos, and of the two, it has become the second that draws me in for more, pulls me around the next corner - and so it is with Yangon. It is scarcely imaginable that 5-million people make their home in a city where downtown is home to three-story buildings engulfed in
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