Back in the saddle again..

Riding to the market in the evening, the sun was setting. They sky's here is always uniquely breathtaking.

What you can access by way of motorbike or motorcycle is beyond any bus or truck trek or tour the country could offer. Which has prompted a group of us to consider the possibility of getting motorcycles to travel around the continent on.

A little bit slower, and a lot more room for choice, we'd be able to take as many side tracks and back roads and need be, and then either camp or stay were ever we can find a place. If it ends up happening, photos will be here.

I'm coming home

I was back for a little while. Absolutely beautiful. I think I've managed to put my homesickness out of my heart for the 5 months I was gone. But its surely impossible once you're back. I really do love being in the US – being home. I was so busy I even forgot to take pictures. For realz.

Except these. These are of my dear sister her cute hound.

Audio card: Music Means More!

In the evening people play songs. Guitar skills and the ability to sing seem to be standard issue, and there appears to be no wrong time to take a break and play. Oh also, singing songs ot your significat other is pretty popular - in a very serious way, if you want someone to know you like them you sing them a song.


I've still not encountered one of the Mon ballad battles - where someone will sing a part of a free styled song to another person (while playing guitar), and the other person has to respond with their own free styled son. And it basically goes on all night.

Bad News, Good News, and Somewhere in Between

Reading news in the evening about the arrest and ongoing trail of Ang San Su Ki

Studying and drinks in the evening.

We went to a hospital a little while ago to visit a friend who recently had a baby. I haven't been to a hospital for anything baby related since my sister was born. Honestly being at one again for something baby related made me really happy.

I had no idea, or at least recollection, that babies are sooooo small. Absolutely, absolutely incredible. I think that really threw my mind for a loop.

A cross between soccer and volley ball. Try spiking the ball with a flip kick rather then your hands. Yes, that's right. Its hard.

Come look at 59 years of oppression

I can't imagine the feeling of fighting for something for 59 years. And I cannot imagine what it must be like to come so close to realizing it numerous times only to have it stolen at the last second. People here and in Burma people can actually describe that - for those who have lived long enough, and were born before the fight for Burmese Democracy began. Everyone else was born in a climate of oppression, and that is what many were raised to see as normal. Why is why

After 1990 Burma's population was surprised when the government announced its continued commitment to holding elections (which it had agreed to in 1988 after its extremely brutal crack down against democracy protesters resulted in thousands deaths). Perhaps it underestimated its own support base but, breath-takeingly, the democracy candidate, Ang San Su Ki, won in a landslide with votes of support from Burma's own military. Blindsided, the government refused to honor the election, and instead jailed Su Ki again.

So the point I'm making is this–
The pro-democracy protests of 2007 proved that even in the face of ever increasing suppression, hundreds of thousands of people are still committed to an idea they've only caught the faintest glimmers of in 59 years of worsening oppression.

Those 2007 protests resulted in many deaths, more arrests, and the unprecedented assault of monks who had been, prior to that point, universally revered as men who had devoted their lives to peace and represented the most holy things in life.
They began to turn up murdered face down in streams.

As a digression, a move about these events has recently, on a limited release, made it to the United States. Its called 'Burma VJ' and is a documentary made by video journalists, at great personal peril as first hand witnesses, to the brutal crackdown of the 2007 protests.
You can read about it here:

http://movies.nytimes.com/2009/05/20/movies/20burm.html?scp=1&sq=burma%20vj&st=cse

I cannot emphasize enough how good it would be if you could go to see it - its at least playing in New York....so for those of you who are there...GO!

Also, for the sake of distribution, the company has posted a lower res version of the movie online in 9 parts - I'll include links to it here:

http://www.mediafire.com/?bjmlrgkmmm3
http://www.mediafire.com/?2wztnuimkmg
http://www.mediafire.com/?2njztzawmh1
http://www.mediafire.com/?tjunjhoyty0
http://www.mediafire.com/?3motjjcncde
http://www.mediafire.com/?fyjgtnujwmo
http://www.mediafire.com/?rdeedm4kkcn
http://www.mediafire.com/?zhqxegwynzw
http://www.mediafire.com/?jdfozhjz2nj

I never thought that the government described in George Orwell's '1984' could ever actually be manifest in reality. But the more I speak with people who lived in Burma, and the more I read about its painful history, I get the eerie feeling that perhaps I was wrong.

Magic and Moterbikes

I think one of the unusual things about having now been here a little over 2 weeks, is the feeling that time has slowed down considerably. The two weeks, which used to fly by in New York, now feel something closer to a month.

Perhaps it is the literal world of difference, where I work regularly now (not to belittle the fun job application filled days I spent in NYC), and every morning wake up to something new. I've found that when I'm not blocking out parts of my life - noise, crowds, social pressures, etc. - I suddenly find that everything has a certain clarity, even if it becomes a routine.

On a diffrent note - motorbikes - every man woman and child appears to be able to ride one. Yesterday, while standing in the parking lot of a near by temple, a gang of middle schoolers tore by me, gunning their 50 cc engines (training bikes?), and poping wheelies. Being bound only to my own two feet and the kindness of the office staff who come collect me kindergarten-style, I could only wave, and at best run after the fast recdeing bikes.

One day when I grow up, I'll ride a bike too. Or at least when it stops raining long enough for anyone to brave giveing me a lesson.

This is the bridge I walk to work on every day. Up close. Which I'm not sure does it justice. You'll see it again.

This is a panorama of the depleted reservoir (that the bridge crosses) at sunset.

A view of some of the Mon house/farms at sunset, from the bridge.

A view from our balcony. After watching one of the storms role in, there was a rare sun break just at sunset. And look! A magic Rainbow!!

Getting the low down

Things have been busy recently, since Matt left. I've been placed in command of the editing ship, and have been spending 8 am to 8pm at the office. My evenings have been filled with sitting and talking (to those who want to practice their English), with the 10 guys who are crashing at the house I live at (which also serves as an office for one of the ethnic groups).

It has been an educational series of nightly discussions, which generally focus on the topics the Burmese government's oppression of democracy movements and the varied ethnic nationalist groups that have long fought for some autonomy within the Burmese union.

I was recently informed that when working online, I should be careful about the names and locations I use. There is no physical threat, but the Burmese government runs a very very mean and fast surveillance and counter-intelligence campaign against the ethnic groups - even the ones based in Thailand. That means the website is often hit by viruses and e-mail accounts are hacked. Plus they regularly fish for any information regarding what nationalist group activity on web sites and blogs.

That being said, I will be posting photos so long as the people involved are alright with it.

Am giving photography lesson to a new friend. In exchange I get motorbike lessons.

Local monastery.

A market that, as far as I was told, primarily caters to Koreans. It also sits 15 above the ground.

This is a view of the rest of the reservoir. There's not much to see now, but before the reservoir arrived, this is where the town sat. In the distance, which you probably cannot see, the water is low enough to reveal the old monastery. It has since been rebuilt (see above images).