As you inelegantly dance down the pavement (I say pavement I mean a loosely arranged selection of slabs and rocks interspersed with deep murky water filled holes) you try to avoid the deep red globs of betel nut spit that mottles every external surface in Myanmar you find your concentration almost entirely consumed in this task. You look up for a second though and are greeted with the sun gleaming off the unending golden curves of the Stupa.
But one sight and sound transcends this. A sight and sound that no oppression or military junta
seems capable of dampening or controlling: big broad brimming smiles and chirpy “hellos”. Not reserved “hellos” like the ones you get from fellow walkers on the footpaths of the English countryside or on the promenade at a seaside town but committed, cheery and genuine “hellos” that make you feel warm and wanted here.
Hearty, happy, spontaneous “hellos” that seem to bring a new and deeper meaning to the word. “Hellos” immediately followed with deep confident smiles that you can bathe in for a few seconds and return with a confidence that would scare the average commuter on a damp grey Wednesday morning in London.
Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, youll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
Youll see the sun come shining through for you
Nat King Cole
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