Burma: My introduction

3 Aug 2010

Yangon, Myanmar (Burma)

I made it. Last year I wrote in my journal, “Next summer I want to go to Burma. I don’t know how I will be able to though.” I arrived via Air Asia from Bangkok. I made a potentially disastrous mistake by failing to change money before I came. I arrived with only Thai Baht and you have to pay a 30-dollar visa fee upon arrival. 30 dollars literally means 30 dollars, and not just any dollars- crisp clean new dollars. An American guy overheard me explaining my situation and offered to sell me dollars for Baht. 60 dollars. He was teaching at a school in a northern province and had 15,000 US dollars in his duffel bag, for the school. Anything over 2,000 is illegal, so he was nervous. When I cleared customs I went to departures to look for more people to exchange Baht to dollars with. No one, for 2 hours. Finally, I found 3 very nice French backpackers who sold me 200 Euros at a good rate. The 200 Euro bill was clean and crisp and fetched a higher rate than smaller bills. Thank the Lord for nice people. Oh yes, back to customs, I was harassed about my money too old. They then told me they would take my old money if I paid 50 instead of 30. I gave them 40 and asked for change. The 3 men stared. I said “I know its 30, you owe me 10 dollars.” One said, Give me more and I will let you through. I said it louder, “Its only 30. Give me 10 dollars.” I was drawing too much attention. They gave me the ten dollars and I got through.

Now I am staying at Golden Smiles Inn. It’s just that, a very friendly place with very friendly staff.

I walked, wandering for 4 hours tonight, ending up totally by accident, at the Shwedagon Pagoda, one of Buddhism’s holiest sites. I debated paying the 6,000 Kyat (about 6 dollars) fee to enter because I thought the money might go to the government. I was assured that it goes only to restoring and maintaining the site. I hope that is true. I hired a guide, which is rare for me, but I got good vibes from the guy and I made a goal to talk to as many local people as possible. We talked for 2 hours, covering a range of topics, always resorting to hushed tones when anything sensitive came up, which in Burma, is often. “The security is everywhere. They don’t wear the uniform. It could be you or me or anyone. Nobody knows.” Later, “You are lucky to travel and visit other countries. I am 31. I have never been outside Burma and I have no money to travel in Burma.” “My country is so poor but some people, they have so much. In Yangon, we have one Rolls Royce and 2 Hummers. Who has that much money? How did they get it?”

I walked back into the city in the dark. A young man, who looked maybe 20, came from a gate and made eye contact. I said, “How’s it going?” He mumbled, and started walking behind me. He followed me for maybe 30 minutes, stopping where I stopped, turning where I turned. I stopped to eat dinner. He took the table next to me. I chatted with the gaged-eared boy who ran the place and my follower just watched us. When I got up, he followed. Finally, when crossing in front of Sule Paya, the 2000-year-old pagoda in the middle of a round about, he called out to me. I could not understand, but I waited for him and we walked toward my hotel. Hs English is very basic, my Burmese non-existent. He wanted to talk though, so we sat on a planter under a tree in front of Independence monument, one of the darkest spots in the area. We worked hard to communicate. He said is 28 and a teacher, not married, no girlfriend, “I don’t like.” He wants to meet at 10 AM tomorrow, same spot. I said OK. It crossed my mind that he is gay, but I don’t think so, and I don’t care unless he thinks I am looking for more than just to talk. We will see I guess.