As my Thai visa was coming to an end I was in the mood for something more…authentic…rural…rustic…an “adventure”…So I decided to go to Burma.
First impressions of the country was that it was a pain in the ass. I had to pre-arrange my Visa in Bangkok, seek out enough “crisp” US dollar bills to last the entirety of my stay and the only way in was to fly. But alas, I wanted my adventure so off I went.
Myanmar/Burma/(actually though…what am I supposed to call it?) was, indeed, an adventure and was so, so different than anywhere I’ve ever been. For example, the men wear skirts…and have bright orange teeth. And they own their bright orange teeth, always smiling away…then spitting their orange saliva…
My first night in Yangon was the scene of my first adventure. HostelWorld booked me a nice, cheap, but way out of the way place near what I think was China Town. I wandered for a good hour before finding somewhere to eat, with the streets selling pig bits (“entrails”…shudder) and various types of fried insects. I thought this was pretty cool. In Thailand they sell this stuff but it seems like it’s more to entertain the tourists. Here, they were sitting on miniature chairs on the street justa diggin into those intestines.
But anyway. I found an actual restaurant that sold some sort of noodle soup (usually a safe bet) and began my first of many meals in front of a Burmese audience. They stare. All of them. Like…the entire restaurant staring you down while you eat. I suppose the upside to this is that you get really good service…being a celebrity n all (or just the first white person they’ve seen in months).
So I finished my dinner and went for a little evening wander, dodging crater-sized potholes and avoiding the scurrying rats when I felt something poke me in an…inappropriate?…place. But, I brushed it off and continued to wander down the street. Then it happened again. I immediately turned around and encountered an individual who I will name Creepy Burmese Man.
Creepy Burmese Man was wearing a stained wife beater and plaid skirt and was allllll kinds of “excited” to see me (ew). So he was all “haaaaayyy” rubbing himself against me and I was all “oh dear god no” fleeing the scene of the crime.
Of course, in my haste to flee the scene I WOULD get lost and not know my way back to the hostel and Creepy Burmese Man WOULD follow me through the streets for a good 10 minutes. But alas, I survived. And hey, I did say I wanted an adventure…