Unexpected Turns

I’ve been in Yangon for around six months now, and I have moved through the negative trough of cultural transition–everything is too slow, too confusing, no one understands me, why are these systems in place–to a fairly positive and adaptive state of being: I can handle this, I’m learning the language, I can jive with this pace. There are always things that I will have trouble with and always things that I will want to change or improve, but I have found a very comfortable routine.

I have found people that I connect with; I have found restaurants that I love, and ones that I will never try again; I am doing comfortable things and things that I find exciting and new. Since coming back from the United States (where I was during the holidays) I am experiencing myself in a beautiful state of readiness: I know what I like, and I still go exploring.

One of my favorite ways to explore Yangon, and the most common, is the taxi drive. When you get into a cab in Myanmar, you never quite know what you’re going to get. The driving can be erratic or steady, as can the personalities. You might look at the outside of the car and get the heebie-jeebies and then sit inside and be surprised with soothing air-con, clean seats, and fresh scents. You might find ants moving their colony into the shifting column next to the driver’s seat. You never know.

It’s also kind of a crapshoot as to whether or not a cab driver will, A) know where you’re going, B) reply honestly about their knowledge of your end destination, or C) take your advice on directions. Some taxi drivers here are extremely knowledgeable and are willing to take you anywhere, whichever route you have in mind. Others, not so much. The other day, I took a cab and had a very polite, talkative driver. I explained my destination and told him exactly which route I wanted him to take, using all the correct right’s and left’s and road names. I even knew landmarks! He listened politely, said “ok ok,” then proceeded to yell out the window at other cabbies and take his own way. I got to my destination, although my route would have avoided the huge lines of traffic on University Avenue Road. As I got out, he shook my hand. All was well.

This afternoon, as I have been suffering from a recurring bout of sinusitis, I made the trek all the way across town to my regular care physician’s clinic. This trip take a minimum of 25 minutes, and, if timed incorrectly, can have you tired, hungry, and having to pee in 90 minutes of traffic. Fortunately, it is a Sunday and low on the rush hour grind. I made it there, had my consultation, and received the (hopefully) extremely effective medication I desired to bring me back to 100%. As I walked out, I negotiated a cab to my boyfriend’s apartment complex, not too far from the hospital. We started on the route I knew well, but only made it about 50 yards before he whipped a U-turn and went in the exact opposite direction I expected.

Thus began my beautiful sunset adventure.

I am known by my friends to consistently ask what adventures they’ve been having. I consider the word “adventure” to have an incredibly broad definition: a trip to the grocery store can be an adventure, subject to your attitude and your ability to see the unexpected. Similarly, a trip to Angkor Wat in Cambodia can have the air of military hunger torture, provided you have a sufficiently sour disposition and an equally cantankerous travel buddy. In my particular post-hospital adventure, we began by driving through an area I was barely familiar with. The evening sun sank, golden into the treetops as we turned onto a road I remembered having gorgeous nurseries. We drove past with the windows down, the fresh cool air on my face as I eagerly turned to look through one car window, then the other. We passed the Yangon Convention Center. We took a bend in the road near an ornate and mysterious building that I supposed to be part of a monastery. I made a mental note to go back and try and explore all its four floors and filigreed balconies.

Then, we took an turn for the completely unexpected. Instead of returning to Pyay Road when I saw it in front of us, my taxi driver suddenly veered right into completely unknown territory. I had literally never seen this part of town before. It didn’t seem to be part of Yangon, in fact. It was rural and quiet. It had a warm light upon it thanks to the sunset, and that made it magical. I heard chirping insects and saw silently winging birds swooping over small roadside tents selling curries and betel nut. I leaned my head out the window like a dog to smell the cookfire and feel the breeze on my cheeks and in my hair and eyelashes, then cautiously inched my elbow inside when we passed a car going in the opposite direction on the narrow road. We were surrounded by lush green and warm sun and cool wind and I was in heaven. This totally unexpected turn had led to something momentous. This wasn’t just a commute. This was an adventure.

Slowly, we entered a more populated neighborhood and I began to recognize some of the buildings around me. Then, all of the sudden, here was Pyay Road, noisy and bustling with cars in both directions. I felt like I had just surfaced at a pool party. I had spent this infinitesimal amount of time soothed by the quiet of my solitude under the water, and now I had to reaccustom myself to the chatter of my friends and neighbors. A world I thought was mine and mine alone turns out to be populated by 7 billion companions, most of the honking their horns.

Still, even with the noise and hustle of this crowded road, I smiled and opened my eyes wide to the life around me. Rides like this remind me of the beauty of our limited knowledge. They remind me of how much wonder I hold inside me and how unabashed and brazen I should be to release that energy into the world. I look at the taxis in transit next to me and the lovers canoodling at Inya Lake Park and I feel alive.

My taxi driver seemed unaffected by our magical mystery ride. Still, I thought as I paid and left the car, all is well.

My Time at the Symphony Orchestra

It’s December, and every music teacher knows the stress and warp-speed this time of year can bring. This week is the start of an obscenely busy time of year at YIS, but for some reason I decided that tonight, Tuesday, would be a good night to go to the Myanmar National Symphony Orchestra. This was the first orchestra concert that I have seen advertised since I’ve arrived in Myanmar! I’ve had such a lack of live music that I just had to go. Plus, free admission!

Live events in Myanmar, I’ve learned, follow some basic rules:

1. They never start on time. They will, guaranteed, begin at least 30-40 minutes late. Rather than let this ruin your night, make it your opportunity to get some more popcorn or people watch!

2. The lights in the house will almost invariably be up…unless it’s intermission. Then, inexplicably, the lights will dim, the spot will go up on the stage, and two women in fancy Myanmar dress will make several lengthy, dual-language announcements. The second half of the concert will begin promptly after these announcements, leaving exactly zero minutes to stand up and stretch or use the restroom.

3. The audience will constantly have their phones out. Sometimes they turn their ringtones off, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they talk on the phone, sometimes they text, sometimes they take photos and videos (I am sometimes guilty of this). Sometimes, like the man below, they actually have two phones and they use one phone to video record the concert and the other to chat with whoever doesn’t understand the person they’re talking to is AT A CONCERT.

This concert was really great for several reasons. The conductor was a flashy Japanese man who pronounced the word “next” like it had two syllables: “And neck-ist, we will play ‘Let It Go’, from the movie Frozen” (and yes, they did have that in their repertoire). He changed jackets halfway through the performance and even threw on something flashy during the encore (more about that later).

Another thing that made it great was that I actually got to hear some art music! Mozart’s overture from Marriage of Figaro, Beethoven’s first symphony, and one of Chopin’s piano sonatas (played by a wonderful soloist, also from Japan). I admit, the orchestra was not stellar by any means. The woodwind section had pretty janky intonation, and there were some scary rhythmic moments. But it was lovely to hear a group of musicians sit down together and play. It’s something that I’ve missed terribly. And the piano was quite well in tune, it must be said.

And lastly, the encore. Oh, the encore. May it be noted that the second half of the concert consisted of the Mission Impossible theme and Let It Go, along with several lovely orchestral arrangements of Myanmar folk songs and an ASEAN pop medley that sounded weirdly like polka the whole way through. What could you possible program for an encore that could top this kind of performance?

Yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen, they played the James Bond theme, and the Myanmar crowd went wild. They loved it!

But wait! We’re not done! There was a second encore after the first encore! WHAT IN THE WORLD COULD POSSIBLE BE BETTER THAN ENDING A CONCERT WITH THE MOST FAMOUS SECRET AGENT IN THE ENTIRE WORLD????

That’s right, folks. SANTA came all the way to the National Theatre of Yangon on DECEMBER 2nd to hang with the Myanmar National Symphony Orchestra and honor the diplomatic relations between Japan and Myanmar. He even gave away a few jingle bells from his reusable City Mart shopping bag! What a great guy. The orchestra played a lively rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and the Japanese conductor ended the show by putting on a Christmas mask. (Sadly, I did not get a picture of that. I was too in the moment to think about getting my phone out.) It was a phenomenally funny moment, and one that I will remember for a very long time.

Sugar-Hungry and Super-Strong

I’ve been journaling fairly regularly in Myanmar, so I’d like to share with you an excerpt from my journaling. This particular entry comes from the end of September, when I was weeks into battling an ant infestation in my kitchen (which, for the record, is on-going).

 

Alright. My ant problem is driving me insane.

It has been at least a month since I’ve started dealing with those little a$$holes and NOTHING. HAS. WORKED. I’ve tried cinnamon, vinegar, insanely obsessive cleanliness, chemical sprays, and chemical chalks.

Well-meaning people hear of my plight and kindly offer suggestions, both natural and chemical, swearing that it will do the trick. I had initially bent my ear to these people, eager to try something new, believing that I may just find the silver bullet to my infestation.

 

I no longer believe the solution is in the grasp of mortal hands, however, as this plague must be visited upon me by the some malevolent spirit.

 

UNIVERSE! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS PLAGUE OF SUGAR-HUNGRY SUPER-STRONG INSECTS?!?!

 

They will eat anything that is accidentally left in the sink or on the counter. If there is the tiniest splash of watery milk in the corner of the sink basin from rinsing out my bowl from breakfast, these ants will find it, blaze a trail, and invite all their friends, neighbors, and even that weird coworker that no one really likes. Then, I get back from work and find the whole neighborhood gathered around a minuscule milk pond, with folks from the neighboring township coming to join the festivities.

This has gone on for a long time. So, as I stand in my kitchen, wadded-up paper towel in hand, squashing each individual ant that comes out of a crack in the tile backsplash, I think to myself, “Am I too uptight? Should I, in the words of Anna (or is it Elsa) from Frozen, just ‘let it go‘? Should I learn to cohabit with these creatures instead of bringing genocide on their heads every morning? Perhaps I should shake it off and focus on more important things, like lesson plans or assessment techniques.”

 

Then I spy a mob heading toward a crumb in the sink and the bloodlust is rekindled.

Photos of Yangon

I am in Bangkok for vacation right now, and the internet is soooooo much faster, so I decided to take the opportunity and upload some photos of my time in Yangon so far. This is by no means exhaustive, but should give you a glimpse into my life here in Myanmar.

 

Shwe Dagon Pagoda: the most famous landmark in all of Myanmar. (And it’s visible from my living room!)

The unsightly results of “cupping”, a Chinese medicine technique to reduce tension and draw out toxins from the body.

The view from my rooftop! That’s my school, right there! It’s a 2-minute commute.

Thumingalar Road. My neighborhood.

A beautiful colonial tower on Pansodan Street downtown.

Booksellers like this are on just about every street downtown.

Holes, like this or even bigger, are also to be found in just about every street downtown. And in the rest of Yangon, for that matter.

Samosas for breakfast!

Sweet tea. It’s like chai, but without the spices. So, it’s actually not like chai at all.

Mohinga, traditional Myanmar breakfast fare. Fish and noodle soup with coriander and lemongrass. Delicious.

One side of my classroom!

My storage and sink area.

The other side of my classroom!

A Non-Apology followed by a Snapshot of Life in Yangon

Note: I’ve read many blogs in which the blogger, after a long hiatus from posting, apologizes profusely to her readers, exclaiming her busy schedule and how hard it is to keep things up. You will get no such apology from me. If you want to know my experiences in great detail, you should probably get a job in international education and move to Myanmar.

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My life in Yangon

I started school a month an a half ago (!!!!) and I’m loving it so far. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m working more hours with this job than I ever have before. Not only is it incredibly difficult to put together lessons that are age-appropriate and engaging for students, it is combined with the difficult task, in the case of art, to learn the material a week, perhaps 5 days before using it in the classroom! It’s a situation that pushes me creatively and makes me strive to learn new skills. It can be frustrating and hopeless at times, but (I hope) will ultimately make me a better, more flexible teacher-artist-human being. In addition, my colleagues are so supportive and give me help– and snacks– when I need them most.

I was lucky enough to snag a “penthouse” for my apartment: the single occupancy apartment at the top of my building. It features plenty of windows, a huge open layout, and a couple doors leading to the roof of the building, which will make a really attractive patio when rainy season comes to a close. I have the benefit of fabulous views and lots of space, coupled with the ability to spy on anyone who is using the school pool on the weekends. The downside is the 6 story climb, but my leg muscles have long stopped complaining.

Yangon, former capital city of Myanmar, is a truly unique city. This whole place is on the verge of exploding onto the map, and the infrastructure put in place by the British during their stay in the area is having difficulty keeping up. Roads are crowded with traffic, colonial buildings are sagging and decaying in the humid climate, and sidewalks have holes big enough to disappear into (luckily I haven’t had that trouble yet!). There is a dizzying variety of restaurants, hotels, pagodas, and parks to explore. The Shwe Dagon Pagoda, Myanmar’s premier pagoda, is visible from the rooftop terrace where I live; it gleams in the sunlight and glows gold above its spotlights at night. Despite Myanmar’s claim on the fastest growing tourist destination in SE Asia, there are plenty of neighborhoods in which a white person is a true novelty, causing a serious ruckus. Unlike India, however, the attention is not as aggressive or pointed; Myanmar people will break into a grin and throw you a wave, pointing to their friends and giggling.

On a weekday, I head to school around 7:30 (since I live across the street from school, I have a 2-minute commute), and leave school anytime between 3:30 and 5:30. If it’s a Tuesday, I’m at Institut Francais with new friends practicing capoeira, and I’m trying to get to a Thai boxing class on Thursdays with a friends from a different international school. And if it’s the weekend…who knows? I might be at 50th St., the big expat bar, or at The Lab, a tapas bar owned by a friend of a friend. I could be at a performance at National Theatre Yangon, or at an art gallery downtown on Pansodan Street. If I decide to stay closer to home, I might be baking cookies or exploring “The Lanes”– the Muslim market close to the teacher apartments.

Next month, during October break, I will travel to Cambodia and Bangkok. There, I will explore Siem Reap and the temples of Angkor Wat, reunite with some dear, dear friends of mine, do some damage in the shopping megacenter of Thailand, and renew my visa. More posts (eventually) to come!

Burma: You Better Believe It

As the title suggests, Myanmar (The Country Formerly Known as Burma) is my next big destination. Since coming back from India, I’ve been spending my time in the great and powerful Twin Cities, befriending incredible people, working strange and beautiful jobs, falling in love, knitting, and drinking many local beers. While I sometimes rue the fact that I did not blog through my time in Minneapolis–it has been fabulous–the fact that I don’t have internet at my house makes things very difficult. And besides, I was busy doing all the aforementioned things. I’ve been busy.

I figured that I’d go over the main questions I am typically asked by people when they find out about my imminent move. I’d like to call these questions THE BIG THREE.

“So, why Myanmar?” (And the subquestion, “Wait, where’s Myanmar?”) Well, I GOT A JOB! I will be teaching at a private day school in Yangon, Myanmar for the next two years. To be honest, the country was not the main factor in deciding to sign the contract. I was more concerned with the caliber of the school and the type of position available. It just so happens that Myanmar is also the “next big thing” in SE Asia, given its new democratic status, beautiful scenery, and friendly people. (For the answer to the subquestion, please reference the map below.)

 

It’s the green one with the circle around it.

 

“Will you be teaching English?” Nope! Despite popular opinion, not everyone heads to SE Asia to teach English. (Not that teaching English is bad; it’s just not my thing. Plus, these students already know English.) I will be teaching drama, vocal music, and visual art to 6th and 7th graders. It’s my first teaching job, and I am thrilled to have a job/terrified of doing it wrong.

 

Administration be like…

 

“How are you feeling about leaving? It’s coming up soon!” Well, yes it is. And I hate that question. Day by day, the fact that I’m leaving in a month makes me want to hop on a plane right this instant to start my journey or makes me want to cover my head with blankets and never leave my house. The past few months have been a whirlwind of emotions, and have involved a lot of soul-searching. In fact, yesterday involved a major breakthrough in my emotional state. June 25th, 2014, was the first time in a long time that I felt totally, terribly happy about where I am now, and SIMULTANEOUSLY totally, terribly happy about this big life change that is happening in exactly one month from now. It has been a long time since I’ve been able to feel both of those things at once. More often than not, I feel giddy about the present and scared sh*tless of the future, or I’m daydreaming about Myanmar and already mourning the eventual “loss” of what I have now in Minneapolis. So I guess, to wrap all that up, if you ask that question to me in person, be prepared to receive a response of this length, because I’m really tired of  just saying, “I’m so excited!” and pasting a big smile on my face. I might jump up and down; I might burst into tears. You can decide if you’ve got the time to deal with whatever emotional response I will inevitably splatter all over you.

 

All drama aside, I think that moving to Myanmar to begin my teaching career will be a truly positive life choice for me. And, for the next 30 days, I will be drinking all the Minnesota craft brews I can with the people I love. I will be taking pictures and hugging and kissing and baking pies and grilling out. Because I could spend the next 30 days having a panic attack, but would be a huge waste of time, wouldn’t it?

 

Some News!

Taking a break from the India retrospective, I’d like to announce some exciting news!

Beginning in the late summer months, I will embark a journey to Myanmar to teach for two years! This is an incredible opportunity, and I’m so excited to have this experience as my first “real” teaching job! Obviously this blog will stay operational for the duration of this adventure, so stick around!