Myanmar (aka Burma)

How many of you have heard of Myanmar? Could you place it on a map? Do you know its people? When I saw the itinerary for Semester at Sea, I am fairly embarrassed to say I’d never heard of Myanmar, except of course when I read the blog of my friend and former RD, Yas Djadali, who sailed last year. Have you heard of Burma (this is the former name of the country of Myanmar)? Perhaps you have met a Burmese person, or maybe you’ve eaten Burmese food? It is doubtful. Most Burmese people have never left their country, and very few have ever traveled to the U.S. for sure. The U.S. discourages tourism to this country, and bans Americans from purchasing their goods. We are part of a larger network of democratic nations who do not wish to support an oppressive government run by a military regime that prevents it’s people from speaking out against the government and from democratically electing it’s officials. Knowing this, many of the staff and students aboard this ship questioned and wondered why we were going to visit such a place, that even our government does not wish for us to patronize. There are two schools of thought on this issue. One is that of the US government (for one) and the former leader of the National League for Democracy, a nobel peace prize winner, Aung San Suu Kyi, have called for a withdrawal of support to this country and ultimately it’s government (the government controls the economy and the people), or the opposing side which says to encourage tourism so that foreigners will get to know the people of Myanmar and bring their support, in order to strengthen the economy, the education and ultimately the plight of the currently oppressed population. It is certainly a complex debate.

After visiting Myanmar, I’m still not sure where I stand on this issue. My hope would be that eventually democracy will prevail and the people will regain their rights. My fear is that the people will attempt to rise against the government as they did back in 1988, and the regime will kill or imprison them. It is something you cannot help to think about while traveling in Myanmar.

When we arrived in Myanmar, the first thing I noticed was the lush green countryside, the old wooden canoes and modest wooden shacks near the coastline. Myanmar is bordered by Thailand on the east, and shares much of its climate and geography, though it is much less modern. Docked in a port that was one hour away from Yangon (the largest city in Myanmar) we shuttled into the city, passing through many rural villages where cows and families of goats walked the streets and villagers picked and sold fruit from the sides. Bouncing over potholes, and patches of dirt roads, passing horse drawn carts, trishaws and old rusty bicycles, I immediately felt as if I was in an entirely different world. It was like going back in time.

We were told not to drink the water, be careful with food sold on the streets, stay away from fruit and ice cream, and that women typically did not travel alone (not because it is unsafe but because it is viewed as a bit strange). By the end of my five day visit, I had broken each of these rules. Is anyone surprised? My first day in Yangon, I was to meet up with a couple of friends at a guesthouse we had reserved outside of the downtown area. Because I was separated from the group, I was forced to travel alone, and found it to be quite easy and that the people were very eager to help me find my way. People did stare at me certainly, very few foreigners ever travel here, so for many of them it is the first time they have ever seen a westerner. I found that I actually enjoyed times when I was alone walking through the markets or the streets, and the religious sites, because I was far more aware of how the people were perceiving me, and was less concerned with what my friends wanted to do, or what our travel objectives were for that day. It is a very strange feeling to have so many eyes on you, watching your every move. Whereas the Japanese people certainly noticed us but did not stare, the Burmese people openly watched and observed us, and the children practically ran to our sides to say hello. They were friendly and welcoming, and really seemed to appreciate having us there.

The best meals that I ate were purchased on the streets or were provided out of shacks in small villages cooked over an open fire. When my friend Gail and I took a public fairy across the Yangon River to a tiny village called Dalla, we, as the only foreigners had to pay a fee of one US dollar to cross the way. We presented the dollar bills to a manager who inspected the bills very carefully. Foreign currency is not common here. Upon reaching the village we were bombarded with trishaw drivers who wished to give us a tour or take us into town. We politely refused as we wanted to walk through the village instead. In fact, the previous day we had taken a horse cart in another small village, but this particular day we wanted to take the road less traveled, so to speak.

What a brilliant surprise we found! Upon turning down a small dirt road, we met a few children and an elderly Burmese gentleman who greeted us and asked us if we were on our way to the church. We asked if we might be able to come, and they led us to a tiny very modest church in a yard teeming with children. We were told that this was a church camp for children, but this week it was for the non-Christians. Most of Myanmar is actually Buddhist and Christianity is only a very small percentage of the population, but the church provides a camp where children can come and play, while their parents work. As soon as Gail and I walked in the gates we were met by children running towards us or wishing to shake our hands, say hello, invite us to play with them. They were so fascinated by us – it was peculiar for me – I felt like a politician or perhaps a celebrity shaking hands and kissing babies. But it was the most enjoyable experience just playing with the kids and talking to the elders. Some traditions cross all cultures, and they immediately inquired whether we had eaten. Already I had eaten from the streets and markets and so far had not fallen ill. Here, we certainly couldn’t refuse the food from our hosts, it would be seen as rude. Besides, we were hungry and running low on kyat (the local currency) so we accepted the offer, and were provided with plates full of rice and a a green curry with chicken that was cooked in a shed over an open fire. Burmese people eat with their hands but they gave us spoons, which we quickly abandoned realizing how difficult it is to eat chicken on the bone with a spoon! And the food was quite simple, but great. Chicken is quite expensive for the local people so this was considered a real treat. Again, it was a bit off to have people watch us eat; I think they were fascinated with our strange manners, and the faster pace with which American people tend to eat.

I had a number of great experiences in Myanmar, but I think my visits to the villages were my most treasured. I so enjoyed meeting the people and experiencing just a bit of their lives. On the last night, we went to a dinner and cultural show, where we were entertained by traditional dance music and performances. We even got to dance with the performers and participate in a mock performance of the water festival. At this dinner, I drank water, ate ice cream, ate fruit for the fifth consecutive day and did not suffer any consequences. But more than that, as I danced with Burmese women, I reflected on the images of children and families in the villages, of the people in the streets who sold us their food and goods, of their smiles and of their sorrows. I thought about the man with a legal education, who could not practice politics for fear of imprisonment by his government. I thought of the young man who became our tour guide in a small village where he worked as a teacher for about $12 a month, and could not even afford the lunch that we bought that day for less than $2 each. I thought about how these people had affected me and how we might be able to affect them. I am still unsure of how or whether we really can make an impact on them. But I am curious to find out more. And I have no mixed feelings on whether we should or should not have visited Myanmar. I am blessed for having this experience, and the smiles on the faces of the people I met (Burmese monks, tour guides, church ministers, guesthouse owners, restaurant workers) assured me that they were just as pleased to have us there.