Leaving Ngwe Saung

An afternoon friendly football game on the beach

Leaving Ngwe Saung was difficult.  For some weird reason, even though I had only been there for a short time and couldn’t even communicate with the local people – I knew my way around town and knew familiar faces from the local villagers we had interviewed.  I saw their day-to-day lives, and understood the “routine” of the town.  Hosana and I had fallen into a routine of our own – interviewing and exploring town all day, walking along the beach in the evening, and going to the one restaurant in town that was open only to order the same exact meal every night (and it was delicious!).  

And although we were working ten to twelve hour days and it was exhausting – it was exciting, addicting even – and I didn’t want to stop!  By the end, I am not sure there was any kind of occupation, family or individual we didn’t interview, but I still felt that I could have stayed there for months and gotten to know the people and the town more.

Enjoying the afternoon sun!

But the clock was ticking on my definitive deadline on submitting my thesis – and I knew I had to get back and start writing!

To Khin Mg Swe – I will never forget your selfless support in these past few weeks in Myanmar.  From the moment you arrived at the bus station (without my knowledge!) I was incredibly grateful for your help and care, which only greatened over my stay in Ngwe Saung.

To Hosana – Words cannot describe how thankful and indebted I am to your help,  guidance and support throughout my research project and time in Myanmar.  I had such a good time with you and this research in those several weeks that it was hard to get on a plane and leave!  From sharing music to culture to delicious fish dinners, we managed to largely surpass our research expectations and generated an incredibly unique project with monumental results.  Thank you so much for your help and guidance and for making this project the level and caliber that it is today.

To the local people of Ngwe Saung – I cannot thank you enough for your willingness to help, and your dedication to share.  We would come home at the end of a ten to twelve hour day, only to find people lined up at our hotel waiting to share their stories.  I could not have asked for a better first field research project  – it is not a goodbye, just a “See you soon!”

Afternoon Tide in Ngwe Saung, Myanmar

Involuntary Blood Donations

Ruthless BLOODSUCKERS!

Hosana and I had the pleasure of involuntarily donating blood to the most ruthless mosquitoes I have ever encountered for the entire duration of our trip in Ngwe Saung.  Because there is no electricity for a fan in the middle of the night, you are a sitting target for these blood suckers, who show no mercy.   

After the first night, I woke up to find over forty bites on my arms, legs, and even face.  When I woke up the following morning, I could barely open my eye because mosquitoes had bitten my eye lid and it was inflamed.  In the beginning, it was a game to see how you could better prepare yourself against the miserable creatures.  But as you tried mosquito repellent after mosquito repellent, coils burning through the night, covering yourself entirely with the bed sheet…you realized there was no end or victory.  I would wake up to hear buzzing around my ear and groan because I couldn’t escape!

I thought that by killing some of them, I would lessen the number of bites on my body, or at least take out my aggression against the bloodsuckers.  But they were fast!  I quickly learned that the only ones I could clap between my hands and squish were the ones who had bellies so full of blood they couldn’t fly fast enough.  As I would clap my hands, blood would smear on my palms and I would scream “Ew!” and then get more upset that another one already filled up on blood, and was determined to kill more out of frustration.

 

My sacrificial arm strategy against those darn mosquitoes!

By the end of the first week, the best strategy I had been able to devise, was to leave a limb, preferably an arm, outside of the covers, while you wrapped your entire body underneath the sheet.  The mosquitoes would violently destroy your arm, but the rest of your body remained relatively untouched (‘relatively’ in Ngwe Saung mosquito terms mean less than 25 bites…small accomplishments!).  By the end of the week, my sacrificial arm was a mine field of attacks.

To the mosquitoes of Ngwe Saung – you are welcome.

Special Interviews, Special Moments

Over the past few days – I have had the chance to interview amazing individuals.  Individuals such as a fisherman who, at age 58 had the body of a buff 25-year old, and shared with me his fishing equipment and daily catch.  I have met with heads of villages and heard their stories, meetings every single one of their children, parents, relatives and siblings.  I have met with hotel staff, souvenir shop owners, restaurant workers, travel guides, storekeepers and more.  In 5 days, we have conducted over 35 in-depth interviews and conducted over 40 surveys.  Yes- we are exhausted.  But what has kept us going has been the people and their willingness to share, and their want to have their stories heard and recorded.

At the local Pawn Shop in Ngwe Saung, Myanmar

 There are a few moments that stand out in my mind as I try to capture all that we have been able to witness in these few days here.  One moment in particular that stands out is when we went to take a picture with the local pawn shop owner whom we had just interviewed.  He smiled and agreed and then disappeared in the back of his shop.  I asked Hosana what was taking so long and he looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.  All of a sudden, the pawn shop owner comes out wearing his best crisp polo, but even better is the treasure that comes out proudly toddling in front – his two year old daughter is in her best dress with a matching Mickey Mouse hat.  She was absolutely adorable and as her father proudly scooped her up in his arms for our photo, it was impossible not to smile.

Visiting the Monastery

Another special moment was when we were able to enter the Ngwe Saung monastery and interview a monk.  He is 53 years old and has been a monk for 32 years.  As we walked up the entrance barefoot (you cannot wear shoes in the monastery) I was nervous.  Hosana said he had to practice his language and make sure he didn’t say the wrong thing because you have to address monks in a special way.  What if I say the wrong thing?  Or do something offensive without knowing?  As we tiptoed up the wooden stairs to meet the monk, I was nervous.  But as soon as the monk gave a wise, modest smile with this little twinkle in his eyes, I realized it was going to be ok – but more importantly, that this was one really really unique and special opportunity.

The Importance of Education

The proudest father I have ever met - standing with his daughter and her two "first-in-class" school certificates!

We visited the house of the manager of our hotel.  He proudly brought out his 11 year old daughter who timidly practiced her English, and he pointed out all of his daughter’s education first place certificates that were proudly displayed in the living room.  I took a picture of the two of them next to some of these certificates, and looking at it now, it just reminds me of how proud of a father he is.  I thought he was being overly boastful of his daughter, but what I quickly learned is that every family proudly displayed education and academic certificates in the middle of their living rooms.  Some families had entire walls covered with diploma-holding, cap and gown wearing brothers, mothers, daughters…

What I have learned from my research, is that contrary to popular assumption, the people here in Ngwe Saung are well aware of the importance of education and are sacrificing a lot in order to provide schooling fees, uniforms, books, and tuition – which is essentially intensive (and expensive!) tutoring for their children.  When we ask, “What do you want your son/daughter to be when they grow up?” every parent excitedly says, “Doctor or high government official.”

Two extremely loving and supportive parents with their young son

Some parents had sent their children off to live with their teachers (since ages 4-5!) in order for them to get a better education.  Others had sent their sons and daughters to live with their grandparents in Yangon so that they could get the coveted city education that every family hopes for.  Parents were working hard to provide a better future for their children, and were well aware of the impact of education.  I am not sure their children are aware of how hard they work and how much they sacrifice for an education, but it was humbling to see such devoted parents working to make a difference in their children’s lives.

How do you say “Police” in Myanmar?

How do you say “Police” in Myanmar?  No one would stick around long enough to tell me – ‘Trouble,’ is basically the best answer I got.  After all day out interviewing we came home exhausted to the hotel staff running towards us.  The police came, multiple times, looking for us and demanded to know what we were doing here.  

 

I confidently assured them that I had a research visa and it was OK.  Hosana translated all of this and looked back at me and said, “They already know you have a research visa.  They still don’t understand why you are asking about land and they aren’t happy about it.”  Yikes…ok…So that precious document that I struggled to get guaranteeing my work and safe travel really turned out to be just a piece of paper and provides no protection whatsoever.  My research visa that I was so thankful to receive and so proud to show off in my passport (minus the hideous picture) turned out to be another meaningless piece of paperwork.

It appears inviting from this picture but...

“They need a copy of your passport, visa, and research questions.”  Ok, no problem, I can get that for you.  I could tell the entire staff was tense, as many of them gathered in the parking lot to talk about what to do and how to handle the police.  I asked if I had gotten anyone in trouble and the staff smiled and said, “It’s ok if you do.”  I felt a knot in my stomach.  “Am I going to get anyone in trouble?!”  I got the same answer: ‘It’s ok if you do, we don’t mind we want to help you.’

After more discussion, one of the staff called the authorities, who were anxious to hear from us.  I couldn’t understand much but I heard “American,” “research visa” and “foreigner.”  I thought the conversation was going well.  The manager hung up the phone, said something in Burmese, and Hosana said, “They are on their way.”  

Wait, WHAT?  They are on their way here?  Now?  But it’s 9 o’clock at night!

The manager told us to go back to our room and rest (yeah right!).  He said he would handle it and it would be better if I weren’t around for it.  He took my papers with my visa…and that’s when I first began to hold my breath – and I held it the entire time I was in Ngwe Saung.