Myanmar Whiskey

My last day in Sangkhlaburi was spent riding a motor bike out to the Thai/Burmese border. Between here and there we stopped at a temple inside a cave. It was myself, my friend Dusty and each of our motorbike passengers who were the only ones to venture inside. Before the four of us climbed the warped and rotting stairs marked in unreadable Thai, crossing the large ravine below to a hole in the upper wall of the cave, I was hoping my good Karma would balance out the boards so not to fall to my death a couple hundred feet below on the limestone. Truly an adventure but not the goal of the day’s journey, for that was reached before this side adventure. What follows is what happened before.



We arrived at the Thai/Burmese border at about 10AM, known as the Three Pagoda Pass. Seemed the same as when I left it a year ago, even though a month before bullets and RPGs were being pelted across the mountainous landscape. However, one thing was noted, the Burmese flag was different; it was embroidered with only a single star.



Last year I made a friend with a whiskey and cigarette salesman from Myanmar and was given a couple capfuls of “Myanmar Whiskey” over conversation. This year, he found me before I found him. He approached me as I was walking around the market and said with a smile and a handshake, “Wow! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you.” After talking about the normal stuff he shared with me some information about the war between the National Army of Myanmar and some rebel armies. How he had to lay with his head down on the ground of his own house while bullets were fired just outside his front door. He also shared what happened in November at the Three Pagoda Pass and pointed at the nearby mountain that was hit by a RPG. Stories that send shivers down your spine.

He also explained to me, from the perspective of an average Burmese person, the correct terminology on what to call his country. Before the current regime, Myanmar was called Burma. For a select few countries, such as the U.S., it is still called Burma but recognized by the U.N. as Myanmar. However, to the Burmese, or at least the majority, it is in fact Myanmar. Myanmar is the country, and Burma is the people. So you would never say Myanmarese, which makes sense because I have never heard it. However, I have heard a few Burmese claiming they are from Burma, instead of saying Myanmar. I don’t know if this should be read politically or simply in that when they lived in Myanmar it wasn’t called Myanmar yet. I would have asked if this division had anything to do with personal political allegiance, but I knew he wasn’t comfortable expressing his feelings toward his country’s political state of affairs. All I know is he loves Myanmar and hopes that peace and prosperity will be something witnessed by the people.

I hope the man who sells whiskey is there next year.