Embracing the Good, Remembering the Bad

Sometimes, I think I might tip too much. When I returned to Yangon for my last few hours in Myanmar, my guide was waiting at the airport and practically started jumping up and down when he saw me. I thought I’d just be going from the domestic airport over to the international terminal to wait for my flight to Bangkok, but because I had such a long layover, the guide and driver wanted to take me to a few last sites.

It was almost like they trusted me now and wanted to show me a darker side of Yangon because the last two sites we visited left me feeling a bit uneasy. First, we went to see the rare white elephants. These white elephants were found by the former military government, and they are considered symbols of power and good fortune, so they were put on display in a public garden. Five elephants stood chained to a cement display area. They rocked from side to side and paced one step forward, one step back. The chains were heavy, short, and tight, and you could see the scars left on their legs from these torturous leashes. I love animals, but I’ve never been a sappy animal rights person. Seeing this, though, seriously made my heart heavy with sorrow. The elephants were so obviously in pain, but there was nothing to be done to help. My guide said that he hates coming to this place because it makes him sad to see such beautiful animals suffering.

The next stop was one last pagoda. This particular pagoda was relatively new though, and most of it had been built by various members of the military government. Everything was a display of the virtuous and generous nature of the generals. The sad thing about this site, however, was not the source of its

finances, rather the fact that history is slowly being erased. One of the generals was particularly hated, and once the current government was elected, the public painted over all images and mentions of this general. I understand and appreciate the desire not to honor a dishonorable man, but erasing history feels a bit like burning books to me; it’s just wrong. If people forget about this man, what is to keep another man like him from coming into power?

Heading back to the airport, we stopped for a quick drink, and my guide gave me a small gift to remember him. It was a very colorful local style bag, and he said, “I don’t think you will use this, but I hope you will keep it as a souvenir.” He escorted me into the airport and then gave me a big hug before saying goodbye.

Myanmar was such an amazing country, and I’m so glad I had the opportunity to visit, and I hope to return again soon. I fear that the country may be changing too fast for its own good, and the people may slowly lose touch with the rich culture that makes this place so unique. After the countless pagodas, markets, and monasteries, I can safely say that as incredibly beautiful as this country is, its people are the most beautiful element of all. I won’t soon forget their smiles, gentle eyes, and warm presence.