On Burma

‘This is Burma. It is quite unlike any land you know about’ Kipling wrote. Funnily enough, the author only ever spent three days in Burma. He had never even been to Mandalay, the town he exotically portrayed in his poem ‘The road to Mandalay’. How right he was in his quote, though. So right that the quote has been used as an opening line for thousands of articles and guidebooks about the land now called Myanmar. Burma really is unlike anywhere else I’ve been. On the way from the airport we saw a procession of pink-clad Buddhist nuns, each holding a paper parasol. Most men wore longyi, the sarong-style garment that reaches the ankles. We saw several women and children with their face covered in a thick paste, which we later discovered is called thanaka and is made from sandalwood bark. We jumped on a 60’s style bus for the route to our guesthouse thinking it was just a touch of nostalgia, then discovered most buses are from that era. Quite unlike any land I know about.




Myanmar has a sad history, which unfortunately stretches all the way to the present day. After independence from the British and the assassination of Bogyoke Aung San, father of ‘the Lady’ Aung San Suu Kyi, the country was taken over by a military-backed dictatorship. And so it has been for nearly 50 years, who have been ruling with an iron fist and a taste for lunacy. Protests have been repeatedly crushed, first in 1988, then during the Monks Protest in 2007. Attempts of political opposition are retaliated with imprisonment and forced labour. Aung San Suu Kyi, now leader of the opposition party National League for Democracy (NLD), has been at home arrest for the best par of two decades. Even promises to the world of democratic elections seem to do nothing to change the leadership, despite widespread support for the NLD. Embargoes and economic restrictions from The US and EU seem to hurt the people rather than the regime, who keeps receiving sizable investment from India and China. Meanwhile Yangon, the old Rangoon which in the 20’s and 30’s was one of the richest cities in the world, now lingers in decadence, with potholed roads and crumbling colonial buildings.



Perhaps the most controversial sanction thus far has been the embargo on tourism backed by several Western NGOs. Personally, I think embargo-backers had a point for a few decades, when tourism was strictly controlled by the government, Westerners were only permitted to travel and stay in government enterprises and each person was requested to change $200 in government notes upon arrival. Especially during the ‘Visit Myanmar Year 1996’ when the government used forced labour to build tourism-related infrastructures. Nowadays, in my opinion the embargo is preposterous. Similarly to economic sanctions, it does more harm to the common population than good. Independent travelling is now possible, and with careful planning the individual traveller can minimize the amount of money given to the government, helping instead establishments like family run guesthouses, small restaurants and local guides. In this way, backpackers can help the local community more than they would help by staying away.



My first opinion of Myanmar was sad. The infrastructure was at least half a century behind everywhere else I’ve been, including Cuba. Sewage drains lined Yangon’s roads, the black muck swelling dangerously after a day of heavy rains. The poverty and repression were palpable on Yangon’s streets; there were many more beggars then everywhere else I’ve been. Military personnel s found at every street corner, observing whilst maintaining an appearance of public order. To give an example of government lunacy, one day in 1970 it was decided that from that day onwards all roads in the country would become right-hand drive, to distance themselves from British colonization. Nowadays still, the majority of vehicles roaming the streets are left-hand drive, posing considerable threats of incidents. Another example; following astrologers’ advice in 2005 the capital city was moved from Yangon to Naypidaw. Until then, Naypidaw was a nondescript village in an arid plain in the centre of the country. Millions of dollars were spent upgrading Naypidaw, whose name means ‘Royal Capital’ to the status of capital of the country. Mansions were built for the government cadres, palaces for government assemblies, roads were upgraded and infrastructures improved. To cover the costs, petrol prices rose by 500%. Once again, the people were paying the price for government’s extravagance.





Although sanctions are in place, most locals are happy to talk about the government. In Yangon we spent a morning at Sule Paya, a pagoda located on a roundabout right in the centre. As we sat down, an elderly monk approached us and started chatting in excellent English. He seemed to be really knowledgeable on the state of politics in Western country. He made a few comments on Berlusconi and his love affairs. We kept talking about subject as varied as the electoral reform in the UK and the recent Red Shirt protests in Bangkok. I was amazed by his eloquence and knowledge. The dialogue moved onto life in Myanmar. The man said the government does absolutely nothing for its citizens. Unlike Cuba, the only other country in the world with a long-running embargo, who was able to develop an excellent healthcare and education system, most Burmese live in poverty, hospital are useless and infrastructure is in shambles. Monkhood is the only way for children to receive an education. I asked him if he has been a monk since childhood. He replied he took up the robe 28 years ago, to avoid being brainwashed by the government. ‘Only as a monk’ he replied ‘I can be a free man’.