Trudging out the airport, my mind allowed me to focus on two things: the mosquitoes and the heat. The mixture of sweat and must just made everything so real--we were actually in Myanmar. As I stared out the bus window on our way to the hostel, we passed by men in longhis, run down buildings, and people crossing the road like ones business. How was roadkill not prevalent in this country? By the time we got to the hostel, I got the idea that this probably wasn't going to be your average motel 6 in the States. We walked through the door-less entrance and cautiously walked up the semi-haphazard cement stairs. Tangled wires that hung from the ceiling didn't help my doubts either. Regardless, the state of the building turned out to be quite deceiving in the sense that everyone was absolutely welcoming. The room turned out to be completely fine-- luxurious even (under the given conditions). There was WiFi (granted, it functioned around -5 mbs but it turned out to be just the right start for my withdrawal from social media before PDO), an endless supply of water, Royal tea, oranges, AC, a rather comfortable bed, hot showers and a patio with a beautiful view in the everyday life of the Burmese.
We'll see how everything else goes.
Things I'm extremely apprehensive about:
- getting sick
- being culturally insensitive
- getting through the two weeks without like smelling pungent BO
(Sumire Maki)
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