Burma - Lynn to Win

After many hours in transit, I arrived at the Yangon airport after midnight of the second day (it’s 10 1/2 hours ahead of home). The sign to the immigration area reads Warmly Welcome to Myanmar. My reams of official paperwork were in order, so I continued to the atm to withdraw some of the local currency , the kyat (pronounced chat). The machine swallowed my card. Helpfully, a number to call if this happened was posted on the atm. The guy at the tourism counter called it for me, and was told they were on the way. This handy guy was also an unofficial money trader, who exchanged some of my US dollars for kyat at 1000 to 1. Developing countries like this insist that you have new, crisp bills to give them In exchange for dirty, mangy bills that you don’t really want to touch.

While doing all this I was closely surrounded by small brown men in long skirts, the traditional longyi, who were taxi drivers hoping for my business. I waited until 2:30 am for the atm guy, who handed my me card and had me sign a form, but asked for no identification! One of the friendly taxi drivers had waited for me in the almost deserted airport, and inquired about my family and my age on the way to my hotel through the dark deserted streets. But through all this, I felt no worries about my situation. It might have been my lack of sleep, but I think it was just the start of my warmly welcome to Myanmar.

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