I'm rummaging through pictures from Myanmar/Burma. Last week, I saw a friend, who was returning to the US. She had journeyed through the country a few weeks ago, a short 10-days sprint and from her accounts, it seems that change is afoot in some parts.
It feels so long ago that I traveled in that country. I remember the constant power outages that left you in the oppressive heat and darkness in the late hours of the night, the sound of the generator amping up, the fan blowing again, lulling you to sleep - random memories housed in the cramped, very simple guestrooms in which I sought temporary shelter.
I became very sick on my last day in Mandalay, so sick I missed my bus back to Yangon, where I had a connecting flight to Bangkok. Traveling alone, I really did rely on the kindness of strangers. And that was present in abundance, in many corners of that country.
Looking ahead, the next 6 months will bring a heady dose of self-selected and self-inflicted uprooting and uncertainty. Did I mention I stress out a lot over change? But these pictures remind me that I've never regretted the chances I've taken in life. I've grown richer from these experiences. Ethan and I often joke over dinner what past-life stories we would tell our children.
Still, all this moving business makes me a little nervous. Just a tad.