Dream of leaving Burma

By Pete Browne

February 22nd 2008 - Burma has been under military rule for over four decades. Its recent draft constitution, which bans opposition activists from entering the 2010 elections, has come under attack recently as international pressure to move toward democracy increases. Win Swe grew up in Mandalay under the junta's regime. He talks about his day-to-day life and studies, and his struggle to express himself in a closed society

The school I go to is closed today as the classrooms are foot-high in water. It often happens during the monsoon season. What I usually do when the rains come is head for the centre of Mandalay; if I can’t study in class the streets offer a good alternative. I am a firm believer in learning.

There are so many things happening in Burma that cry out for dialogue and debate. But people are too repressed to enter into discussion; they fear violent consequences. Our problems are on a national scale, but our fear forces us to view them on an individual scale. Talking itself can be dangerous. Having learned from previous mistakes, I am now careful whom I talk to and what about.

I seek out foreigners to have conversations with. I can see that it’s a backwards strategy – making small talk with friends and family and opening up to strangers – but it’s safer. Life is hard for so many people, and informing on other people’s anti-government sentiments can gain privileges, which may translate into enough food to feed your family for a week. In many ways I can understand.

If I am seen speaking to a foreigner I will be questioned by the police. The foreigner will be left alone, as non-Burmese people aren't likely to be arrested and interrogated. This is largely an internal affair. I try to be careful and don’t talk to anyone who isn’t interested. As long as no one is in earshot I can always claim that I was asked for directions.

Although many foreigners have boycotted Burma, there are always a few who, for whatever reason, choose to see for themselves. If they are European they offer an opportunity for me to practise my English, which is an added incentive to head for the streets.

English is important for my studies. I'm a law student. Much of our legal system has been influenced by our colonial predecessors; there is still English-language legislation in the statute book, where much of the detail of Burmese history can be found.

I chose to study law in an attempt to counter the injustices around me, but now I realise that this is naive. Law is an easy subject in Burma. Where justice is non-existent, law ceases to be anything but a reinforcement of the state. There are a lot of lawyers here and competition is tight; income is far from guaranteed, even in this vocation.

I’m 22 years old. I’m still young but I feel I've missed out. I spent three years in prison – once for two years, and then for a term of one year. My crime was talking. There are many people here like me, and we are far from being a minority. In Burma, even whispering the word democracy can land you in serious trouble.

I have always been in Mandalay. My family is here; I have grown up, studied and been imprisoned here. My greatest dream is to leave. I've been trying to escape from this country for years, but family ties are strong and it is difficult to make that decisive step, to give up on everything that is happening around me.

A passport costs more than three times the average income of relatively wealthy Burmese person. And then there are the additional costs – bribes for the multitude of officials along the way. Even if I could somehow arrange the finances it would only be the first step. From the initial application to actual departure could take years, and only then could I think about applying for a visa. It’s an obvious but easy tactic by the junta to stop people from leaving the country and stop news of their regime from reaching the outside world. A lot of Burmese people risk crossing the border illegally.

I have a friend overseas who has offered to help me – someone I met a few years ago on an excursion into Mandalay when school was closed. I have his postal address, but every letter I have sent him was read and destroyed by officials. That was why I spent my second term in prison. Two years for writing, one year for talking.

I learned my lesson. Now, every time I write a letter I have to find a tourist willing to smuggle it out of the country – usually to Thailand, where it can be posted and hopefully reach its destination untouched. I don’t like to be beholden to others, or to impose, but I have a simple choice: to try or not.

Win Swe, whose name has been changed, was talking to Pete Browne.


Source: Guardian