I love it here, and I don’t remember the last time I felt that feeling. That sense of knowing you like a place as soon as you touch down. The last time I felt that way was when I first visited NYC. Or when I first stepped foot on the UCLA campus. There are things your body knows, without your brain being able to rationalize it, but I’ll try to explain it here.
Yangon is a very unique place. Myanmar, as a whole, didn’t open its borders to foreigners until 2012. Granted, it seems a lot of tourism has developed since then because when I first looked into coming here, there was no information on hostels on the internet and it was quite difficult to plan a trip.
There are no 7-11s. No Starbucks. No Walmarts. Even the cars are nothing to be wowed by. To be honest, the traffic is quite bad. The trains are slow. The sidewalks are all stained with beetle nut juice, and you often have to watch out for potholes.
So why would I love it here?
In one word, authenticity.
You just don’t feel bombarded with any sort of materialistic trend tainting this place with its own agendas. While I’m not a fan of how difficult it is to cross the street here, or how often the cars honk, I don’t mind it because there is also a beautiful melody to its seeming chaos.
I love the sights and sounds. I could probably stand on the side of the road and people watch all day, and I haven’t even mentioned the Thanaka powder yet! Jeez, I can stare at all the variations people come up with for hours on end. It’s an endless source of inspiration for me.
The men wear “longyi”, which is essentially a long skirt that they tie in front of their waist. The majority of women wear traditional garments as well. I love seeing all this because as someone who comes from San Francisco, which is now the most expensive city in the USA and the current hub for the latest technological trends, it’s refreshing to see that there is a place where people are holding onto their traditions, and still doing it with pride in this day and age.
This is not to say that tradition should never change. Change is the only constant we have in life, and it is only normal that every society will continue to progress and make improvements. Given enough time, Yangon, too, will have smoothed out pavements, 7-11s, and god forbid, a Starbucks might even open to try and compete with their already delicious coffees and teas. Wait a minute, are 7-11s and Starbucks really improvements?! Maybe those aren’t the best examples.
My point: It makes me feel good, happy, and gives me a sigh of relief to see people not just holding onto, but living out their traditions and deeply rooted identities with pride.
I think, as an Asian-American, I often feel like my identity is watered down. I’m Chinese, but not very Chinese. I’m American, but also not very American. So perhaps, I’m a little more sensitive to seeing people who are not only from the land, but move, dress, and talk of the land. Whereas I need to find this weird balance that I’ve never been able to find. And that’s fine, that makes me who I am. I’m like an uprooted plant placed in an unusual environment, I guess?
This place is just so inspiring. So different. So unique. And really, aside from the honking cars and the traffic. If you really listen. It’s not that busy. People aren’t yelling at one another. Nobody is being aggressive, not even when a car prevents people from safely crossing the street. Large pagodas are present around the city. And it seems the feelings of modernity, work, and beliefs in a higher being all play together seamlessly.
Still, I know. I am an outsider looking in. I’m romanticizing. But I’m also speaking from my own experience. I’ve traveled to a good amount of cities. Most cities are nice. But most cities don’t give me the feeling that Yangon gives me.
It feels like home, like when my parents took me to China every summer as a kid, but it’s not. It feels like someone put me in a time machine and threw me into the past, but it’s the present. It feels like maybe I should’ve been drinking Burmese tea much earlier on but I’m just drinking it now and it’s blowing my mind. It seems that my continual itch to come to Myanmar all these years is justified. I was meant to come to Yangon. This city has a rhythm of its own that life needed me to experience, and I love it.
by Jason Lam