Myanmar - The Unknown Once More

 

Ingrid, you have broken the rules of mundane living. And best of all, you are a living example to how we can be if we put our minds to it  - Frankie

                                                                                                                                                       

I packed up my beautiful home and life in Beijing. I survived many painful goodbyes to friends, some of whom had walked the walk alongside me for eighteen years in that weird and wonderful city. I headed into an extremely foreign ‘unknown.’ Completely alone. I had always been blessed with sharing China with my incredible family. Always having one or both daughters nearby to translate. Navigating me out of embarrassing or challenging situations. Why then would I give up that security? That comfort. The luxury and the familiar … 

I needed to.

It was with deep sadness that I bid farewell to the city that had provided me with abundance and diversity. A rich life in every sense of the word. More than anything though, Beijing gifted me a solid platform on which to develop my personal growth. This I did. In leaps and bounds. I placed my feet firmly on Beijing soil in 1997 with two teenage daughters. Now in 2017, my daughters are adults.  I am grandmother to the most exquisite little girl in the world. With a renewed awareness of just how fast a lifetime passes, I needed to move on. To experience more in Life. 

Looking down upon the majestic cityscape of Beijing, my heart was heavy. I took with me wisdom, financial security, a strong sense of knowing who I am and a wealth of knowledge about the country I called home for so many years. My beloved China. The one regret I had was deeply tucked up into the seams of my pocket. To my utter dismay, I still could not speak Mandarin …

My few weeks in Cape Town and Hermanus deepened the appreciation for my life in South Africa. The gratitude though, was tinged with the dark talons of apprehension clutching my shoulders. I wondered why I could not settle down and be content with a career in Hermanus – my hometown. The continuous flood of questions pierced my every thought. Doubts flew around mindlessly. The fear of the unknown played havoc with my mind. I reminded myself of the choices in life. There was no need to do this. 

Fighting back the tears, I gazed out as the beauty of the Cape faded away below the wings of the aircraft. Completely unequipped, I was moving to Myanmar. A country and a people of which I knew nothing. My emotions were shredded. Leaving the safe, embracing arms of my family was daunting. I felt as though my skin was keeping me together and everything within it, was broken. Those incredibly cruel goodbyes never get easier. They tear deeper into your fibre. Releasing a pain that burns like acid.   During transit in Dubai I considered turning back. It would be so easy, I told myself. Something deep within me shouted out to keep going. Self. She was with me. As always. Self gently led me to the waiting plane which was to take me to my next home. Somewhere in Asia.

As we joined the approach to Yangon airport, a tapestry of vivid colour welcomed me. Vast expanses of emerald green fields cloaked the earth in serenity. Endless rivers meandered through the jewels. Their silver waters reflecting a glow, captured from the setting sun.  Pagodas shared their golden brilliance far and wide. Vibrant blue rooftops dotted the landscape. An array of sentiments flooded my core. Excitement superseding.

Landing in Yangon, there was no chance of anxiety or sorrow rearing their ugly heads. I was exhausted mentally and emotionally. In need of sleep. I honestly did not care who met me. Where they took me. Where I would sleep that night. Numbness had captivated my being. A coping mechanism of sorts. 

Entering the door of my new home for the first time, I was bombarded with emotions. Yet again. Raw and unforgiving. Relentlessly pounding me. The kindness with which our project manager educated me on where the electricity board was, how to connect the wi-fi, where to turn on heating for the shower and most importantly, where to buy food in the morning, did little to comfort me. I wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. So homesick was I.

My apartment could not have been more beautiful. Each room had a stunning view overlooking the Bago River. Traffic on the river was always intense. Home to ships lying in anchor on the murky waters. The deep, almost hauntingly beautiful droning sounds of their horns alerting others of their presence. Dhows made their way up and down the river early morning and late evenings. The peace shattered by the deafening noise of antiquated engines. My daily routine was influenced by the various noises chugging past. They gave me the time of day. Determined my moods to an extent. Reminded me of where I was. I celebrated each individual noise. The abundance of bird life in the trees below and around my apartment provided food for my soul. Each day was greeted by a symphony of birdsongs. Of nature’s finest. My evenings were cherished. Whilst sipping a glass of wine on my balcony, the eagles presented me with a wondrous display. One of perfect flight and grace.

The Bago River has its origins in the hills of the Pegu Range in south-central Myanmar. It flows for 331 kilometres towards Yangon. My impending weather was forecast through the changing of colours in the waters of the Bago. Dark metallic bronze signified grand majestic thunderstorms. Those of which ignited a sense of ecstasy within me. Those which called for curtains to be opened. Lights to be switched off. And a complete admiration and respect for the power they created. Resulting in a display of nature’s finest fireworks.

The initial few days in Yangon were tough, but exhilarating. I took the plunge and headed out to explore my surroundings. Star City, the complex, my new home. Situated on the banks of the Bago River. A river I would cross each time I headed into Yangon. A crossing taking me over the Thanlyin Bridge. A bridge shrouded in suspicious beliefs. Somehow creating a sense of foreboding each time I crossed it. Constructed over twenty years ago, as a link between Yangon and Thanlyin, the bridge was designed to carry small vehicles only. However, due to the economic growth of the area, heavy transport made use of it every day. Traffic jams were common. A railway line ran alongside the cars. I remember clearly the unease that swept through me each time a train rumbled past. The bridge literally shook. Some believed it could break at any minute.

Looking out towards Yangon, Star City, a modern luxury complex, lies amidst lush greenery. A world-class golf course compromising lakes, manicured pathways and incredible sunsets provided a connection to nature. The serenity of the infinity pool overlooking a lake, my reprieve from intense daily interaction with the little ones. My students. There too existed a selection of restaurants and a seven-minute cycle to work. Star City was literally an oasis surrounded by jungle. A symbol of what Man can create within the challenges of nature’s mighty presence. 

Home to a wider community, Star City provided me a secure home with a sense of belonging. To my horror, an abundance of snakes shared my sentiments. It all contributed to creating an almost surreal world in which I found myself. One, with which I fell very much in love.