Yes, I went to Myanmar

[Over the course of the next few posts, 

I will tell you what my trip consisted of, 

who it is I met.  

And when all is said and done 

(when I've taken the telling to process the whole of it),

I will tell you why it is I went.]

After airplanes and airports and very little sleep, 

Christmas morning found me here, in Yangon.

 I was with my friend Lynn, her family, and their friends,

and this was the place we called home for the week.

Each day we loaded up in vans 

and fought our way through traffic and dust,

to get to the place that had called us Myanmar-ward in the first place:

an "orphanage",

full of these delightful friends.

Each day, 

we were given a room to call our own,

and food beyond compare.

And each day, 

we were greeted by children running to our van,

waiting by our door,

to hold our hands, to just hang out.

We didn't have to know the language in order to communicate, 

in order to have great fun:

Plus, there were things to teach each other:

And at the end of each day--

after the children escorted us to the van [banging on the windows, yelling "see you tomorrow!" in Burmese and English],

after we drove [very very slowly] away--

we'd end up in our [very authentic] hotel, 

exhausted and full.

Just waiting, for the next day.