At 10.30pm in the evening, I began to pack my bags. I found myself feeling a surge of excitement. My restless heart needed to find a place to anchor.

         I knew I was looking forward to a journey, a journey of the soul, away from the city, away from responsibilities and mundane tasks, away from the shell of a living corpse......

1. No Politics

         “Whatever you do in Myanmar, don’t talk about politics,” my brother warned me.
         “Why not?”
         “Because of the military government. They have spies everywhere.”
         It wasn’t just my brother who said this. On the plane, the woman sitting next to me shared the same advice. She was in her fifties, and when she found out I was from Singapore, she opened up. She once took a journalist from the Straits Times to Myanmar and joked about how even the air-conditioned buses were hot. She had delayed her arrival by a day to avoid the Independence Day crowds.
         With a big-sister vibe, she advised me, “You can go anywhere in Myanmar, but steer clear of university areas.”
         “Why’s that?”
         “To avoid the troublemaking students.”
  Students causing trouble? It sounded so dramatic, like something out of a movie.
         But still, students were hard to ignore......

2. Xiao Miao’s Eyes

         I arrived in Yangon the day after Independence Day, and a young woman named Xiao Miao greeted me. She was a university student.
         “How old are you?” I blurted out, realizing how rude the question sounded.
         “26.”
         “Still not graduated?”
         “Our universities have been closed for five years.”
         “What have you been doing during this time?”
         “I’ve been taking English classes. Sometimes I work as a translator in a jewellery store. Occasionally, I guide tourists.”
         “Do you stay in touch with your classmates?” My heart raced at the mention of “staying in touch,” as if I was suddenly on edge.
         “I haven’t gone back to university. But some of us meet weekly to clean the temple together.”
         Xiao Miao said this so calmly, with no excitement or impatience in her eyes.
         “Cleaning?!”
         “Yeah, we volunteer. Next week, the honors program at the university will resume.”
         “And you?”
         “I’m still waiting for news.”
         Her quiet acceptance of her situation showed a kind of strength beneath her calm demeanor.
         Suddenly, I felt something special in Xiao Miao’s eyes. Something that reflected the spirit of Yangon.

3. Jin: No Classes, No Tutoring

         In Bago, my guide was upgraded. Instead of a student, I got a university lecturer named Jin, a woman in her forties.
         “Do Burmese people travel abroad often?” I asked casually.
     “Not really,” she replied with a hint of disappointment. “Before the university closed, my monthly salary was $20. We worked hard to teach tutoring classes on the side. Now, with the university closed, we can’t even do that. We’re struggling.”
          Jin’s words hit me hard. I quickly changed the topic.
       It  wasn’t  that I was  scared of  politics or  spies;  I  just  didn’t want to feel weighed down. I was on vacation!

4. Ken: Black is Stressful

         In the Inle Lake area, I was greeted by a young guy in bright traditional clothing, carrying a bag, with a hole in his ear and a trendy earring, looking totally carefree.
         “Call me Ken!” he said, with a smile.
         Ken was also a university student studying zoology. He had graduated but was now working at the hotel. Whenever he could, he took on guiding jobs.
         “Isn’t it a waste for a university student to work as a waiter?”
         “Not really,” Ken shrugged. “It’s a good chance to practice my English.”
           “Are you wearing your traditional clothes?”
        “No, my hometown dress is a boring black. That’s what people in this area usually wear.”
         Ken kept talking about everything under the sun. He said travellers were worried about the Y2K bug and were afraid to fly, turning the peak season into a slow one.
         He mentioned he was applying for an advanced tour guide course and dreamed of visiting Bagan, where he planned to stay in a monastery to save money.
         As we bounced along the bumpy mountain roads, I leaned back, gazing at the fields outside......
         “Is my English okay?” Ken asked, suddenly sensitive.

        “It’s   fine!   You  know,  I’ve  been  waking  up  at  4  or  5  every morning this week for activities......”

5. Fairies, Big Spiders, and Freud

         After a short drive......
         “We’re here! Look ahead!”
      There it was: a beautiful green mountain with a cave-like structure nestled against it.
         “It’s not a stupa; it’s a cave,” Ken corrected me. “It’s called Pindaya Cave, which means ‘I caught a big spider.’”
           Ken began to tell me a story......
       “A long time ago, a beautiful fairy came down to Earth to play. When night fell, she decided to stay in a nearby cave. But then, she got caught by a big spider and couldn’t find a way out until a prince on a white horse came to rescue her......”
         I listened politely, even though I wasn’t sure I believed such a tale.

         After we got out, we wandered aimlessly through the cave. We didn’t see the fairy or catch the big spider, only stacks of Buddha statues everywhere.
         Was the economic struggle like a maze? Did the students think their roles were to be the prince in shining armor?
        As  I   said  goodbye  to   Ken,   his   bright  traditional  clothing lingered in my mind.
         I remembered how he said he didn’t like black because it made him feel stressed.