Burma Before the Boom

Posted from Phuket, Thailand

For the wind is in the palm trees, an' the temple-bells they say:

'Come you back, you British soldier, come you back to

Mandalay!'

from Rudyard Kipling's poem, "Mandalay"

Old photo of Mandalay, Burma

While here in Thailand I've had the space and time to reflect on our recent three-week journey through Myanmar. Time to recall the ubiquitous temples and tea houses, the funky trishaws, the painted faces, the friendly people, the broad, genuine smiles. Here in Phuket I stop at the end of a pier that juts-out into the harbor, and stare out into the shallow, mesmerizing, azure-colored waters. A man with a blue nylon fish net strewn over his shoulders interrupts my daydream, asking me where I'm from. Taken somewhat by surprise, I hesitate. A world of assumptions fills the space between us...

Myanmar's ubiquitous and wondrous temples

Myanmar is facing its own surprising transition. And nearly everyone has an opinion about the change. Except the Burmese finally feel safe to express their views. After centuries of rule by emperors, Burma became a British colony. For the next 50 years, the country, hugely rich in resources, became the spoil of ruthless rule by a junta of greedy military generals. In Emma Larkin's fascinating work, Finding George Orwell in Burma, a native Burmese aptly remarks, "The British may have sucked our blood, but these Burmese generals are biting us to the bone!" Just a few short months ago, the unmistakable bite of capitalism struck the country's capital, Yangon. Our guide made sure to point out the huge new KFC that had recently opened in a busy area near the old Scott Market there. "They just opened the first three here," he observed.

One of the first KFC's in Yangon. Is Myanmar now 
welcoming capitalism?

In a few short weeks, Aung San Suu Kyi's NLD party, voted into office with 80% of the popular vote, will accept the reigns of power. That transition, is filled with its own huge basket of assumptions. After decades of understandable reluctance to talk honestly to foreigners, native Burmese now speak more freely and candidly about the political earthquake that is taking place. All of our guides, and others we met, spoke excitedly about the forthcoming transition, most without being prompted by our questions. Over breakfast, I asked an Australian official I met in eastern Shan State who was in Myanmar to audit the election results. "What is prompting the generals to relinquish power?" "It's complicated," he said, "but I wouldn't rule out some degree of benevolence."

In some ways, today's Myanmar reminds me of the Korea I witnessed in the early 1970's. South Korea then was a military dictatorship under the strict rule of president and former general, Park Chung-hee. The country, largely rural in those days, was rationing rice, enforcing curfews, and actively arresting students and professors--anyone who spoke out against the regime. Fast food chains, amongst the more obvious signs of capitalism, had yet to take a foothold in Korea. Technology was primitive and largely limited to poor quality local products from Lucky and Gold Star.

Today of course, Korea is vastly different. In the span of 40 years Seoul now boasts more Starbucks than New York City. College students, like those in other developed countries, aspire to BMW's and expensive apartments with impressive addresses. What is generally taken as "progress" was accomplished without significant indigenous natural resources. Rather, what has made Korea the 15th largest economy in the world, was the remarkable sweat-equity and toil pumped-out by three generations of Koreans.

Myanmar, on the other hand, is rich in natural resources. In the early 1920's, the river Delta that surrounds the Yangon region, exported over 3 million tons of rice, half the world's supply. It is rich in gems, including jade, silver, gold, natural gas, rubber and teak. With the possibility of democracy and a full dose of capitalism on the doorstep, Myanmar is likely to be a future economic power in southeast Asia. Speaking with an expat while I was deplaning in Yangon, I asked her what had brought her to Myanmar. "I'm here to discuss the development of their natural gas industry," the Californian told me. "Are you speaking with officials from the current military government," I asked, "or the incoming government of Aung San Suu Kyi?" "The new government," she responded. While the Myanmar we saw is still largely unspoiled, by some accounts, the generals have nearly wiped out the native teak forests and exploited many of the natural resources. Those sites, needless to say, are not on tourist itineraries.

Many veteran travelers to southeast Asia recall with sadness the rapidly changing landscapes they see: the highways that were once quaint dirt roads; the quiet, pristine beaches that have become hedges to endless cement edifices displaying the names of western hotel chains. They lament that local teahouses and small restaurants seem to inevitably give way to Starbucks, McDonalds and KFC's. This is someone's measure of "progress." But whose?

What will Myanmar's likely forthcoming economic
boom mean for this young Burmese girl?

Sometimes, I vainly hope that a golden moment on a quiet strip of beach will remain forever frozen in time. Sometimes, even that which you thought you knew about a place and a time, was just a mirage. Rudyard Kipling, he of the "come back to Mandalay," epic poem fame, never even visited the place. History notes that Mr. Kipling never set foot in Mandalay. In fact, Mr. Kipling spent only 3 short days in Burma...once upon a time. 

11 Things About Myanmar That May Surprise You

"During the three weeks I spent wandering through postcard 

perfect scenes of bustling markets, glittering pagodas and faded

British hill stations I found it hard to believe I was traveling

through a country that has one of the worst records for human

rights abuse in the world. To me, this is the most staggering thing

about Burma: that the oppression of an entire nation of some 
50 million people can be completely hidden from view."

Emma Larkin, Finding George Orwell in Burma (2011)

The changes I witnessed in Korea between 1973, when I arrived there as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and 1988, when I returned for the Summer Olympics, were nothing less than astounding. Myanmar may be on an even faster track.

The magic that is Myanmar is easily accessible from South Korea and the rest of Northern Asia. You can jumpstart your trip with a flight from Inchon or Busan. We flew to Bangkok and then went on to Mandalay. It’s from that city, or the capital, Yangon, where most people launch their Myanmar adventures. Capture the essence of Myanmar before Starbucks arrives.

Myanmar's most famous site, Shwedagon Paya,
in the capital city of Yangon.

Here are 11 surprising things about the country formerly known as Burma:

1. The infamous dictatorship here is, for all practical purposes, invisible to routine travelers. Other than a few propaganda paperbacks on our night stand in one hotel, the military government’s presence to tourists has largely receded into the background. To be sure, everyone here knows people who have served in prison. Myanmar and North Korea share common histories of cruelty and oppression. But with the recent open elections, Myanmar's military leaders have apparently decided to take a new path. The air here is filled with a cautious optimism.

2. International tourism and business is evident everywhere here and is already taking off. Planes are filled with the likes of LNG deal-makers and NGO staffers. Tourists abound from Germany, Italy, France, other parts of Europe and the U.S. From Asia, Koreans and Japanese arrive in large groups. Building cranes dot the skyline, especially in Yangon, where several KFC's recently opened. 

Construction cranes, these from South Korea, dot Yangon's skyline.

3. ATM’s are now accessible nearly everywhere you might go as a tourist. Yes, you will run into "out of order"signs on some machines, but it is generally easy to get access to your funds. 

4. U.S. dollars are no longer required! It was routinely suggested that you need to bring clean, crisp unfolded US dollars when you travel to Myanmar. While it is always smart to have back-up currency, it is no longer obligatory. Yes, dollars are nice to have, but you can access and use the local currency everywhere.

5. Everyone in Myanmar is courteous and friendly. The rest of Asia (and the West) can learn a lot about courtesy and "service with a smile" from the people of Myanmar. One surprising and effective practice we found throughout the country was that nearly every waitperson repeated our order before handing it off to the kitchen.

The people of Myanmar are universally friendly
and always seem to be smiling.

6. Though sometimes intermittent and frustratingly slow, the Internet is available in most hotels and in many restaurants and other establishments. We found the best reception in hotel lobbies. It is also easy to buy mobile sim cards thanks to two large foreign service providers from Saudi and Norway. The national service provider, MPT, is partnering with Japan to deliver services.

7. Meals can be had anywhere for just a few bucks. The food, a wonderful mélange of native dishes, Chinese and Thai culinary delights, is consistently delicious and inexpensive.  One of our more expensive dinners (there were two of us) came to $19 (including tip). We had four (4) cocktails, shared a soup and had large plates of chicken fried rice, fresh vegetables in oyster sauce, and a mixed grille seafood plate. Oh yes, there was a shrimp appetizer too.

8. Myanmar is a Baptist country! Well, in a sense. Myanmar is home to the world’s third largest Baptist population. That's in addition to the ubiquitous stupas and Buddhist temples that dot the country--which is 89% Buddhist overall.

9. Myanmar is about to go democratic. Well, fingers crossed on that one. But Noble Peace Prize recipient Aung San Suu Kyi is expected to lead the NLD (National League for Democracy) Party’s transition to power in April, 2016. There is universal support and optimism here for her leadership. Recently, her party called for all citizens to go out and reduce the litter in their streets and communities. The next day millions of people heeded the call, including soldiers who nominally opposed her party's coming to power.

A calendar on the wall of a business in Mandalay. The NLD Party,
led by Nobel Prize winner, Aung Sun Suu Kyi, comes to power
in April 2016. Here, she is pictured meeting with President, Barak Obama,
first sitting U.S. President to visit Myanmar.

10. Many people in Myanmar have “double names.” One flight attendant’s name was Ei Ei Tun. Our guides’ names included Sai Sai and Min Min. One of our waitresses in the beach town of Ngapali was So So. Her service was, in fact, much better than her appellation would suggest. Traditionally, Myanmar people do not have surnames. The spelling of their first names tells others what day of the week they were born on. 

    

    11. The book "Animal Farm" was actually about Burma. Dogs are everywhere in Myanmar. And in the countryside, one sees pigs in nearly every nook and cranny. Dogs and pigs. It's not coincidental then that dogs and pigs took over the farm in George Orwell's Animal Farm. Orwell, who served with the British Imperial Police Force in Burma in the 1920's, found his life transformed by his experience there. While many people believe his famous works 1984 and Animal Farm were either about England or Russia, they were actually largely influenced by his experiences in Burma.

    Pleasant surprises are plentiful in Myanmar, a nation with more than 50 million smiling people hoping to finally reap the benefits of their richly endowed country. Myanmar is at the crossroads of the new world, where the two most populous countries, China and India, meet. It's a place with countless Buddhist temples and an array of ethnic tribes and racial groups that are as diverse as the spices and tastes one finds here. Countless too, are the reasons to find your way to Myanmar...before the boom.

A woman from one of the hill tribes in the Golden Triangle area of
Shan State. Integrating the many ethnic tribes will be one of the
countless challenges facing the new government.

"Korea 3.0": Korea's Economic Future is Linked to Changes in Its Education & Business Sectors

If Apple founder Steve Jobs applied for a job in today's Korean job market, would he be able to find employment? In a word, "No," according to a human resources professional in a leading Korean company. The now famous business entrepreneur was a college drop-out. He couldn't have presented credentials from one of Korea's top three universities, or any Korean college for that matter.  That fact alone would have "deep-sixed" his application to the employment wastebasket.

Would Steve Jobs be able to find employment in Korea's current
job market?

Today, Korea's economy and social structure are facing rising income inequality and high levels of relative poverty. A significant portion of the labor force occupies precarious jobs, earn relatively low wages, and remain stuck in tenuous economic straits that often derail them for their entire careers. Gazing at these troubling conditions, only 14% of Korean companies believe that their existing education system is suitable for fostering the creative talent they need to sustain their companies. According to a recent OECD report, the current Korean education system must be balanced with greater attention to fostering creativity and entrepreneurial skills-widely seen as the essential ingredients of a thriving business climate, if Korea's economy is to regain its once globally recognized vitality.

Korea's university classrooms have far too long been spaces devoid of discussion. There is however a significant bright spot in this otherwise disconcerting landscape. A teaching and learning approach, vastly different from the traditional lecture model that is so widely entrenched in Korean academia, is taking root in a handful of Korean universities. One of the leaders in this effort is KAIST University in Daejon, a school increasingly seen as perhaps the best university in Korea. The program, known as Education 3.0, is being offered in 100 ongoing classes, classes that require professors not to give lectures during their classes.

KAIST students engage in a group discussion under its Education 3.0 program. (KAIST)

Teachers must shift from their traditional role as content experts in the classroom and become more like facilitators or symphony conductors. Students read content and view relevant media prior to class meetings and use class time for discussions, problem-solving, teamwork and projects. Many classrooms have been redesigned to support such engagement with round tables and glass walls suitable for posting ideas, solving problems and encouraging teamwork. This approach to education teaches students the kinds of skills we now know are essential for building a more creative and entrepreneurial economy. This represents nothing less than a transformative shift in Korean education. 

This approach to training and learning has long since been popular in both U.S. universities and corporate environments. Witness The Evergreen State College, part of Washington State's university system. According to its website, "The Evergreen State College has earned a national reputation for innovative teaching and academic excellence." Furthermore, its highly interactive classes encourage students "to experience a better way of learning with processes that explore the many sides of a theme or topic." Corporations too have invested in training that targets the kinds of skill development that increases productivity for both current and future jobs of their employees.

The Evergreen State College, Olympia, Washington

Confucian philosophy based on the importance of family and social structure continues to hold sway in South Korean businesses. This means acquiescence to the boss at all costs, perhaps best (or worst) exemplified when employees stay late at work because leaving before their higher ups depart is often seen as betrayal to the boss and the organization. Employees feel the frustration of this work norm and organizations see lower productivity on their bottom line.

While Korea's tradition and culture helped power it to prosperity, sticking to old ways in both its classrooms and corporations is unlikely to help it moving forward. Korea must change and create new models in its education and business sectors. A "Korea 3.0" will not be easy, but it will be necessary if Korea is to return to its heady days of economic leadership. The DNA for Korea's future economy will rely less on which universities its youth graduate from, and more on what skills they've learned along the way.

Expats and Islanders: Adrift From the Mainland

Expats and islanders, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, have a great deal in common. Both are creatures of intention. One rarely becomes an islander, or an expat, by accident. 

The mainland. It's always there, off on the horizon. Separating itself from both the expat and the islander by space, time and distance. There's an expanse of water, often a strong current, and perhaps a gale. Sometimes, the whole of it is awash in fog.

Expats and islanders can gauge their reality by the mainland's watch: its politics; expectations; its often failing ideals.

Both live on islands of their own making. It's a foreground/background kind of thing. Expats and islanders. Each adrift from the mainland. Sometimes connected by a withered tether. Sometimes, not at all.

Islanders are a strange lot. Romantics. Artists. Iconoclasts. Naysayers. Hardier for sure, than their mainland brethren.

Expats too, strangers in a strange land, chiseled by the callused hands of culture. Adrift from the mainland. Each changing, often in different directions.

Expats and islanders. What is it that they seek? What have they found? Off in the distance.

- - -

Steve Schuit is both an islander and an expat. He's lived on Peaks Island, Maine (975 acres, 3 miles out to sea) since 1985. Recently, he's been experiencing life as an expat teaching in South Korea. 

Walking Japan's Nakasendo Trail

Decisions. Sometimes they are as small as switching from one gear to another while you're riding your bike. Or deciding where to plant your feet while trying to avoid puddles on a rainy day. As a traveler though, decisions can make a world of difference. They can even change your life.

My decision to walk Japan's Nakasendo Trail opened new worlds to me. I discovered a Japan I had never experienced, one markedly different from the Japanese cities like Kyoto and Osaka I was familiar with. But the solitude of the Nakasendo, or Central Path, as it’s translated, gave me the time and space to rediscover something else, myself.

The trail beckons. Near the beginning of the trail in Magome

Ironically, I found my way to the Nakasendo during a board game night with some friends. I was randomly assigned to "that table over there" where the game Tokaido was spread across a card table. Players take turns walking their way across medieval Japan, stopping at inns, restaurants and hot springs acquiring points. The idea of an excursion across ancient Japan grew on me. I did some research, discovering there were actually a number of these trails crisscrossing Japan.

I settled on Oku Japan, a company that specializes in self-guided tours. After designing a hiking itinerary matching my interests, I left Korea for my 8-day hiking adventure in Japan.

The Nakasendo Trail weaves its way from southwestern Honshu
northeasterly to Tokyo

Imagine a full day of hiking along quiet, verdant forest trails. You arrive at your Japanese inn sometime in late afternoon. Escorted to your room, you are given a robe and directions to the inn's hot tub. The hot water, piped in from a local hot spring, inevitably melts away your cares and any soreness from the day's hike. "This is the life," you tell yourself, knowing full well that a heavenly Japanese dinner and comfortable night on the tatami floor still await you.

For fans of Japanese food, the dishes prepared with pride in the inns along the Nakasendo are mesmerizing to the palate. I am reminded of the lyrics from the Eurythmics’s hit, "Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody's looking for something." Well, this was exactly what I was looking for.

As promised by Oku Japan, a package was awaiting me at the front desk when I checked into my Kyoto hotel. It contained everything I needed for the walk: maps, train tickets and information guides. After leisurely exploring Kyoto for two days, I took my first train to Nakatsugawa, then a bus to Magome, the final stop on the line. The setting greeted me like an old friend. I had seen this medieval Japanese street-scene motif in many photos. A wide-stoned path that meandered gently up hill welcomed me. I abided letting myself slip into the moist air, the low clouds and the mysteriousness of the Nakasendo Trail.

Stone path and view of valley below

July, they tell me, is a quiet time on the trail. It’s often rainy and children are still in school. That explains why I had the trail largely to myself. Other than meeting a father and son from Seattle on that first rainy day, the trail was my own. Well, that is, if you don’t count the brown bears and monkeys that inhabit the mountains along the trails. I didn’t see either species, although bear bells dotted the trail. Not one for surprise bear encounters, I rang each bell vigorously, then loudly sang favorite tunes from elementary school as I walked along the trail.

Bear bells like this one were along much of the trail

That first day’s final destination was the magical town of Tsumago. Its curved main street, lined on both sides by dark 2-story wooden buildings, was quiet and seductive. I found my inn at the far end and I was the only guest.

My host at Matsushiroya Minshuku in Tsumago

The trails provide contemplative space. Each hill, each bend reveals a secret offering, an inscribed stone, a view, a shrine, a story from its past. They complimented the almost fictional characters I met at night at the inns. The staff, inn keepers, and servers, most of whom were dressed in traditional Japanese attire, were like characters in a play I was part of.  I needed only to let go and be carried away by the happenings as they unfolded.

Mr. Goto, one of the unique people I met along the way

Each day’s destination Nagiso & Nojiri, Yabuhara, Narai, Hirasawa, Karuizawa and Yokokawa, in turn, revealed its own unique personality.  I could almost sense the excitement of the entertainers and merchants who once walked the trail. The low clouds that clung to the mountains added a sense of mystery, reminiscent, no doubt, of the dangers that confronted those early travelers from the Japanese royal class as they walked the trail town to town during the 16^th century hoping to avoid encounters with bandits and thieves.

Iseya Inn in Narai

My encounters along the Nakasendo were more magical. Walking the Nakasendo-a good decision indeed!

Isolated stretch along the Nakasendo

The Old Korean Inn

Two zany ladies in their mid-thirties ran the place, an otherwise no-frills inn with five or six rooms

Nearly always smiling, the ladies of
my Korean inn

and an austere garden. Their antics created an oasis for me over the course of a year, down an otherwise unremarkable street about three blocks from my university.

I was greeted with a knock on my door early each morning. Ms. Han or Ms. Bae would bring my breakfast on a tray-usually rice in a metal bowl, soup, fish and several side dishes of vegetables or black beans along with some barley tea. Before I left for the day, they always would ask if I would be home for supper. 

My days there were strands of solace in place and time.  The world inside the heavy metal gate was warm and comforting. On cold days the heated floors drew me in like a toasty pouch. I washed at the outside faucet. Hot water was only a dream.

As with any stage, there was a cast of unusual characters. The cute little girl who brightened my day like a wild spring flower. Friends of Ms. Bae or Ms. Han who came to share gossip and play Korean card games. There were, of course, other guests too, though they brought an itinerant sense to the place, coming and going, fleeting glimpses of life at the inn.

The sign says "yo-gwan," Korean for inn. I washed
here, along with other guests.

In those days inns were almost everywhere in Korea. Their rooms were on one or two floors in layer cake fashion, or if older style, off wooden verandas that surrounded quiet gardens with tiny ponds. Shoes outside a door would trip your imagination about the guests inside and their stories.

Like the old Korean coffee shops and public baths, these inns have all but disappeared. They were the anchors of Korean neighborhoods, places of tradition and social sanctity. The winds of change have swept through Korean society leaving the likes of motels and Starbucks in their place.  My old inn? The inn, the street, the entire neighborhood, were razed by bulldozers years ago. Now only memories remain, entrusted to me and perhaps to a little girl with a smile.