I was starting to compile all my notes from Myanmar and wondering how to start my series of guides on this lovely country when I realized, most of us know very little about this place. In fact, if we know anything about it at all, it’s due to the very terrible Rohingya genocide in the eastern province of Rakhine. It’s an appalling event, but Myanmar is such a large and complex country that we shouldn’t paint the entire country with one broad stroke.
I didn’t realize how little I knew about this vast country and still don’t. I did get a glimpse into the everyday life of the people and the complexity of the country by going into one of the contested territories to talk to the locals. Instead of writing a guide, I’d like to present a series of interviews; a snapshot into the lives of the people in the Shan State.
But before I can continue, a true understanding of Myanmar can’t be had without a brief understanding of its history. If you’re just looking for the interviews, you can skip towards the second half.
A super brief modern history
Myanmar has traditionally been an independent Buddhist nation and after a series of wars with the British, became a British colony in the 19th century. By 1948, Myanmar gained independence as a democratic nation. But in 1962, a coup occurred and the country has since been run by a military junta.
Only in 2010 did the nation take steps to move back towards a democratic state with a general election. The military junta was officially dissolved in 2011, some political dissidents were released, and the country started opening up. While it’s certainly a step in the right direction, it’s also bit of a façade. Key government positions including one of the two vice presidents, 25% of the parliament and six of the eleven members in the National Defense and Security Council (arguably the most powerful office in Myanmar) are all appointed by the military.
So how do these events shape modern day Myanmar?
Under British rule (and despite the many problems of colonization), Myanmar was actually the wealthiest country in Southeast Asia, second only to the Philippines. However, once Myanmar gained independence, things quickly went downhill. Both as a democracy and as a military dictatorship, poor economic policies, isolation and corruption has made Myanmar one of most impoverished countries in the world.
To make matters worse, Myanmar has been in a constant state of internal civil conflict since its independence. Many of these groups feel that their voices have not been properly heard or disagree with the state of the country and are now actively fighting the government. These aren’t short term conflicts either as many of these groups have been fighting the government on and off for decades. The fighting usually occurs down ethnic lines as Myanmar contains eight major minorities and countless tiny minorities scattered throughout the country.
Fighting in the eastern Kayah and Kayin provinces against the Karen people has been described as one of the longest running civil wars. To the northeast, the government is embattled in the Kachin province against the Karin minority and in the Shan State against the Shan minority. Most famously, in the west there has been fighting against the Rohingya in the Rakhine province.
Trenches currently being used by the soldiers. I was advised not to walk to the right due to landmines
All of this history shows the dissatisfaction with the central Burmese government and their inability to give a representation to their minority population. Whether it’s in the Rahkine or the Kayin State, all of these events show that Myanmar may be physically drawn as one nation, but the people are of different opinions on the state of the country.
While it’s true that your visa fees and tax dollars will go into the Burmese government coffers, the diverse people of Myanmar also depend on those tourist dollars. And how do we expect to better understand the country, or even offer a reasonable solution to these problems if we don’t visit the country, walk amongst the people and get a more accurate picture of their complex world they live in. The Burmese people were the absolute nicest people I have seen as a whole in any country I visited, and it would be an absolute disservice to lump their actions in with the actions of their government.
A tour into the Shan State
The area my guide took me into was politically safe and best described as a cold war. The Shan State consists of 33 minorities with four different language families. Most of these minorities fielded their own ‘rebel’ army. In practice, these acted more as trained paramilitary groups, vying for power in the region. These are by no means a ragtag militia group of a few men.
As an example, the Restoration Council of the Shan State (RCSS), is one of the most powerful groups in the area, fielding at least 10,000 men. Their basecamp is by the Thai border where they can flee into Thai territory if the government launches any major offenses. In the recent times, the government has been unable to remove the group and has signed a ceasefire with the RCSS, even using them to police and keep many villages safe and stable.
RCSS soldiers guarding a village
In this particular area, the Burmese government had arranged ceasefires with a few rebel groups and were not actively fighting. Armies simply garrisoned villages and portions of the mountain ranges, marking out their territory. Sometimes troops are rotated out of villages, and when the villages are left vacant, a different rebel group may declare their sovereignty for a period of time before leaving themselves and returning the village to the control of the original owner. Think of it as an antagonistic time-sharing plan (aren’t all time shares antagonistic?).
Interviews with the Locals
To better understand just this small section of Myanmar, I turned to the people. My guide and my interpreter, Johnathan, spoke Burmese and the local Shan language, and with his help, I managed to interview a few locals. I normally don’t write these slice of life posts (I leave that to my friend Jacob over at Blockxblock where I also contribute) but I feel that this is a cornerstone piece when traveling to and understanding Myanmar.
I hope these interviews will provide a small but important glimpse into the life of people in the contested areas of Myanmar.
Hu Son
Three generations live here under this one roof. Her daughter, Khem Shwen, age 28, is married to Aik Htun, age 33. Together they have two children: a daughter, Ohm Myint, age five, and a son, Sheng Pha, age two. Of course it wouldn’t be a complete family without their four cats who roam casually in and out of the house.
While Khem and Aik work in the tea fields, Bang takes care of her grandchildren, the house and the little shop they run from the ground floor of their house. When we entered, and exchanged pleasantries, the conversation quickly switched over to focus on the rebel groups. The villagers always keep a keen ear out for any news of this subject.
Hu Son's Shop
This particular town would change hands between rebel groups periodically. Sometimes soldiers of one faction would come in billet and other factions might forcefully conscript men to fight in their armies. Many of the younger men in this village had fled to Thailand or to the main government controlled town of Kyaukme to avoid forced conscription. They would have to find work in their new homes and send money back to the villages.
Hu Son's son in law, Aik, was okay since he was married and has children, and the occupying rebel group, the Shan State Progress Party (SSPP), did not recruit family men. They also didn’t levy any taxes out of her village either, but instead demanded that the village still procure two men for the army this year. If none are provided, then the SSPP institute a lottery system where any men can be drafted. If you are unlucky enough to be chosen, you either must enlist or pay a hefty fee to avoid conscription.
This didn’t seem to concern Hu Son as much, since the village will pool together money to pay the fee rather than send off their men to fight.
Sai Aung Ba and Pa May
While on a particularly steep and exhausting road, we pulled into a little shop that doubled as a rest stop. Our guide, Johnathan, was curious as there were quite a few motorbikes parked outside, an unusual state of affairs for this part of the world.
As we entered, we found there were two separate families. One family was heading to the RCSS basecamp because their son was caught doing drugs by the RCSS. Under their laws, he is to be drafted for life so the family was going to the basecamp to plead for his release. The whole room knew that there was no hope for his release, but the family was going to try anyway.
Omm was always patriotic and idealistic and he desired to make a difference. In the end, he decided he needed to join the fight for Shan autonomy. Sai and Pa were just at the RCSS basecamp, visiting their son for the first time since he enlisted.
This in turn caused other problems. Their eldest daughter at age 37, went through basic schooling and got married. But now that Omm joined a rebel group that opposes the government, she’s using that as legal fodder to file a lawsuit removing Omm from her parents will. Sai and Pa had to spend a sizable 3.5 million kyat ($2500) of their money to win the lawsuit.
Pa was visibly upset when talking to me. The whole ordeal with her daughter attempting to usurp her brother’s inheritance and the worry of Omm joining the army had visibly worn on her. She felt that her son was throwing away his future and risking death by joining the army. Even if he survived, RCSS enlistments are for life. Despite her discomfort, she kept talking to us as she wanted the story of their family to be told.
In a stark contrast to this conversation, the rest of the café was oddly jubilant. The other family and Sai were cracking jokes and laughing while having a good tea break. When I asked how they could sit here and enjoy a casual midday break, I got a simple answer: “This stuff happens all the time. You can’t be sad or let it get to you. You just carry on with life.”
An oddly happy tea break
Aung Hla
Aung Hla is a tea farmer at the age of 35 and lives a humble life with his family in the Shan State. The family house has six members living under its roof: Aung Hla, his wife, two sisters, his father and his mother. Together, they own roughly 30 acres of tea farming land, at least that’s how much they think they own. No one’s actually measured it, since all the land in the countryside is mountainous so they just count their land by how many peaks they own. Some of the land is so steep, at times reaching a 45 degree incline, that there’s no incentive to measure this land.
Five of the family members work the land almost the year round. The harvest season starts in the cold season and continues for the next eight months. The tea picked at the very end the harvest season when it’s the hottest, produces the highest quality tea. They usually work 8-12 hours a day and 7 days a week unless they need to go into town for necessities or if the rain is too heavy. Of course they take many breaks throughout the day to compensate for the laborious work.
A transportation truck is arranged by the broker and the family must pay per bag to be shipped. The current shipping rate is 1000 kyat ($0.75) per 1 kg of tea. Since they’re up in the mountains with little to no cellphone coverage, they pay 200000 kyat ($146) for one satellite phone. The whole village in total owns 4-5 phones. They share them as needed to contact the brokers or for other business purposes. These expenses do add up, as the family’s yearly income is five million kyat ($3650) or roughly $10 a day.
The price of beer is 2500 kyat ($1.80) a bottle, making it a luxury for most of the villagers so a late night hangout like this one was a rarity. It was definitely an abnormal night for the village as the village chief stopped by to partake in some smokes and drinks.
Aung Hla enjoying a few late night drinks with us
When I asked him what he normally does with his leisure time, he was initially confused with the question. It didn’t seem like Aung really regarded his free time as any different. He just lived his life farming, spending time with his family and enjoying a good cup of tea with the other villagers as he was doing with us. He did emphasize that good tea is especially bitter.
Johnathan (Soe Myat Oo)
Johnathan is 22 years old and from the large Shan city of Kyaukme (pronounced chau-mae). His parents are 58 and he is the fourth youngest among five siblings. His dad is a chauffeur and his mom started a business to cater to the Chinese. The Chinese believe that when a relative dies, you need to burn a piece of paper in the shape of a golden heart. When the paper is burned, the ancestors will receive it in the next life. To get this paper to look like gold, the paper is made from lead. Johnathan’s mom made these pieces of paper to export across the nearby border into China.
It was a funny story as to how he became a tour guide. One day, while skipping high school, Johnathan ran into a tour guide in a nearby village. He was still learning English and happily talked to the tourists and ended up joining the group to a trip to a nearby waterfall. Years later, while attending an English class, John ran into the same tour guide whose name is Joy. Now his English had drastically improved and he was to join the small organization as a tour guide. He was taken under the Joy's wing and after a brief training period, he started to lead his own tour.
Johnathan originally wanted to be a tour guide due to the promise of good money. What he didn’t expect was due to the inconsistent nature of tourism, his income varied drastically each month. The job gave him a good living but not as much as he’d like. Before this, he used to work at Population Services International, an NGO, administering health care to rural villages as a side job as an accountant and earned 150,000 kyat ($110) a month.
He takes this hard-earned money to pay his living costs and to pay his university fees. While some of his brothers are already married with kids, he feels that he's too young and because it's so expensive due to Myanmar expectation where the male is expected to be the provider. The wedding dowry itself is expected to be 5 million kyat ($3650). This doesn’t include the cost of the fancy big wedding you’re expected to throw. And you’re expected to throw two weddings, one for each side of the family.
So John prefers to pay off his university bills and to eventually save up enough to get a work permit and move to Japan in promise of a better life.
Speaking Shan to an RCSS soldier
A Security Checkpoint
On the way back to Kyaukme, we turned onto the main highway and stopped at one of the villages for lunch. There was a military garrison there from the Burmese government. When we pulled up, they simply inquired on our itinerary, smiled and left us alone. They were there to secure the road and inspect every car passing through for contraband.
The restaurant owner told us that the soldiers had only arrived a week ago. Apparently the Palang rebels had taken over the portion of the road a few weeks ago and acted as highwaymen, demanding drivers pay them a toll. In response, the government sent their own troops to secure the road.
While we were treated well as foreigners, it was apparent the locals were on edge. The main Burmese government is still primarily under military junta control and the soldiers are still heavily distrusted by the people. These soldiers are often rotated through, caring little about how they interact with the people and have little attachment to the region they’re stationed in.
In the short half an hour, we were able to witness a few things that contributed to the locals’ distrust. First, what we could only guess was a government official’s convoy passed through. Three identical SUVs whizzed past at breakneck speed and were simply waved through by the soldiers.
More blatantly, a man in his SUV was stopped. He left his car and jogged to the soldier’s little plastic desk to sign the roster. Instead of signing the roster and submitting to an inspection, he shook the soldier’s hand, jogged back to his car and drove off. We kept watching and turns out, he gave the soldier a reddish bill that resembled a 5000 kyat ($3.70) and a pack of cigarettes that were being distributed among the three soldiers.
A trucker approaches the little plastic desk to sign the government roster and submit for inspection
Until next time.