‘How many times you make your skin?’ She asks, smiling this dazzlingly wide and beautiful smile and pulling on her ponytail out of shyness. At first nobody would ask us questions. They just looked at us, smiling and whispering to each other as their teacher encouraged them, in Myanmar, to speak to us in English.…
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I sort of passed out on our second day in Yangon. After a morning spent at the dazzling inferno of Shwe Dagon Pagoda and lunch overlooking Karaweik Floating Barge on Kandawgyi Lake, I suddenly felt incredibly unwell. Here we go, I thought, mentally preparing myself for the bout of dysentry I’d been expecting as inevitable…
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As soon as we get through customs at Yangon International airport, a much less rigourous process than we had anticipated, taxi drivers start fighting for our custom. Young or old, bearded or closely shaven, they look almost identical in my eyes in their smart white shirts and floor length Longhis. The driver we’re assigned is…
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