Seeing the future of Myanmar on the faces of its youths

Much has been said about Myanmar and the recent reform of the country – from the clichéd stereotype of a developing nation, to the massive potential of the economy with the influx of international investments, and of course questions as to whether this is at all sustainable. And while much of the attention stems from foreign interest in the country’s nascent democracy and its many business opportunities, it is surprising that the people are as excited by the possibilities as they are cautious about it.

Sense of optimism!

For first time visitors landing in Yangon, the sense of optimism (or positivity if you will) is hard to miss. The people of Yangon are almost always smiling, and everywhere on the streets one will see billboards, posters, shop names featuring an assortment of words like “Happy” “Best” “Joy” “Tomorrow”; enough positive words to make grumps feel grumpier. But grumps you will hardly find here, especially amongst the youths.

There’s a certain attitude about them that is hard to be put into words – they are extremely friendly, always ready to lend a helping hand, positive about the future, and also very curious and excited about foreigners. Despite difficulty in languages, they do not shy from interacting with foreigners, and this author had no problem asking for directions, sitting (more accurately, squatting) by the streets and ordering food, and even asking for beers (very important!).

This helpfulness extends to enthusiasm towards foreigners. For the youths who could speak (some) English, they were eager to strike up conversations anywhere, and were also incredibly welcoming, to the extent of inviting new friends – strangers minutes before - over to their place for dinner. This didn’t seem to stem just from friendliness, but also from a want to connect to foreigners. For the youths, foreigners represent possibilities, the future, and everything that the junta (the previous military government) is not; and so the act of engaging with foreigners is akin to connecting to a brand new world without the junta. It is important to remember that not too long ago, the country was essentially closed to the international world; with the junta rulers dictating what the citizenry is exposed to or otherwise.

Driven and wanting to achieve more

The sense of positive energy is not however just found in the aforementioned kindness and warmth, it is most evident in the attitude towards a potentially better future – the youths are eager to find better jobs and are enrolling themselves in courses to pick up new skills, continuing their education, and in particular, learning foreign languages. The study of languages is booming in Myanmar as the youths hope that this gives them more opportunities at home, and even abroad. A survey done by RBi Group, a Singapore based education and training business shows that there are at least 255 language centers in Yangon – of which 180 offers Japanese, 174 Chinese, 92 Korean, 50 English, and 40 Thai. English in particular, has seen interest from the growing middle class youths eager to get jobs with foreign organizations coming into Myanmar.

One can almost feel the spirit of entrepreneurship sprouting up amongst the youths, particularly those who have had the fortune of being educated abroad in neighbouring countries like Singapore, they have started business of all sorts - from rooftop bars, software companies, bakery chains and more. The recent reforms, such as less stringent requirements for company registration, import-export licenses have encouraged young entrepreneurs, and driven a surge in business registrations. Memberships of Myanmar’s main business group has risen from under 19,000 a few years back, to almost 30,000

The youths are also initiating the forming of various associations (Myanmar Youth Professional Club, Myanmar Youth Entrepreneur Association, the list goes on!) to enable them to connect to each other, locally and internationally.

Locally educated youths are equally motivated and active in wanting to be part of this wave. There’s the feeling that the future is full of possibilities, and for youths living in rural villages, the reform means that they are able to find jobs in nearby trading towns, like in Monywar.

Sense of identity

The reform impacts more than just economics, it also seems to foster a stronger sense of identity assertion amongst the youths of different ethnic groups. There are many ethnic minorities in Myanmar (the government recognizes 135 distinct ethnic groups), and there’s a sense that while the youths of the ethnic minorities identify themselves as people of Myanmar, they also want to assert their identity as being part of their ethnic group. Khim Nu, one of the ethnic minority youth that this author spoke to, prefers to call the country Myanmar, as opposed to Burma (a name which some still stick by today as a philosophical stand against the Junta); and she prefers to call the citizens as people of Myanmar, rather than Burmese. This is because the word ‘Burmese’ implies that everyone is a Burman – the largest ethnic group in the country accounting for around 68% of the population.

This is not to say that there are tensions fostering, although there are occasional skirmishes happening in some states; but rather, it is about these ethnic minority youths riding on the wave of reform to be part of the country’s progress and yet still being true to their ethnic group.

Beyond assertion of ethnic identity, there’s a larger sense that the youths are comfortable with themselves, and this shows in the level of openness in their behavior with their romantic partners. On the streets of Yangon, you see couples holding hands while walking, couples playing with each other tenderly in the park, boyfriends braiding their girlfriends’ hair in Mandalay; and even this author getting picked up! For sure this isn’t a culture where people are kissing passionately on the streets, but there certainly isn’t the tentativeness in the behavior of the youths.

But... it is not blindly optimistic

Clearly the reform has created an immense sense of possibility amongst the youths, but it is naïve to think that this optimism is unbridled. The entire sense of forward momentum, the optimism, seems to be tempered with an understanding of the fragility of the reform. There seems to be a keen awareness that all this change can disappear in a matter of days, as it did in 1990s when the country held its first free elections. Then, the NLD (National League for Democracy), the party of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi won 392 out of 489 seats, the junta refused to cede power and continue to rule until 2011.  Despite the fact that many were not born then, the youths are ingrained with the knowledge that the political wind changes quickly, and can turn the country on its head yet again.

They are also sanguine about the fact that the road ahead for many of them is not going to be an easy one, despite the apparent progress. Many youths lack the skills, training, and jobs that will help them reap tangible benefits from the reform, and this makes youth unemployment a big concern – estimates vary widely, from 4-5% by the US CIA, to about 37% from a recent parliamentary figure.

And so it feels that many youths have adopted a somewhat pragmatic perspective about the country’s reform. They appreciate the opportunities it brings them, and will support any government that will help businesses and the economy – it is not about ideologies. While many appreciate and admire Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, there’s a sense that they are not actively supporting her, and don’t necessarily see her as the one to bring their country forward. Compared to the older generation who place ideology, and thus Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, as the savior for the country’s troubles, the youths focus on the actual steps that get them what they want. Ideology is good to have, but can be put aside if its tenets do not directly contribute to the achievement of their goals.

The youths of today’s Myanmar remind us that there is much to look forward to here, and even though they are not blindly optimistic about the future, the optimism is somewhat infectious. It is a joy to see the future of Myanmar written on the faces of the youths today, whose hands will build the future of the country.

Book Review: Ladyboys: The Secret World Of Thailand's Third Gender

Ladyboys: The Secret World Of Thailand's Third Gender by Pornchai Sereemongkonpol
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

When reading a collection of stories, we can choose to think about the book as a sum of the individual stories, or to think about the narrative stringing these stories together. And unfortunately, for this book, the narrative is much more interesting (and thought provoking) than the individual stories.

As stories read together, this book offers us a peep into the lives of the ladyboys through their own words. We know, briefly, the story of these ladyboys - how it was like growing up, when did they start being aware of their sexuality (and gender issues), the operation (if there was), and what life is like now. And through this method of story telling, we are introduced to 9 lady boys, from the famous Nong Toom, the beautiful boxer, Auntie Nong, the ageing dancer, and to 7 other lady boys.

The simple story arc, however, does not do justice to these individuals because it leaves the reader wanting. Wanting to know more about their trials and tribulations, the emotions that these individuals go through beyond feeling rejected, and all the finer details in their stories that we are left out of. Without all these layers in the stories, each “chapter” feels like a repetition of the previous chapter, because arguably, people's lives are pretty similar to one another.

What piqued my interest however was the bigger narrative behind these stories - the social dimension/pressure of fitting in with older kathoeys, and the conservatism of Thailand.

It might come as a surprise to some, but Thailand is a conservative country. Behind all the glitzy neon lights in the Patpong district of Bangkok, the beaches of Pattaya, is a country still deeply rooted in traditions - something that the tourist to Bangkok will not even begin to suspect. In Thailand, there is a still a huge population of people who are living in rural areas where gender roles are still very much expected to be followed; not doing so brings shame to the family and that is something that most Thais would consider doing. This conservatism comes through policies as well - individuals who have gone through gender realignment surgery is not officially recognised as the gender he/she has become post-surgery.

And so when someone young realises that he or she does not fit into the prescribed gender roles, we see much anxiety and agony growing up. They have to withstand constant bullying and name-calling from others. and this can often lead to disastrous outcome, such as severe depression and teenage suicide - something very prevalent amongst individuals with gender identity disorder.

What is interesting here is the comfort that the older kathoeys provide to the struggling teenage protagonists. The older kathoeys are seen as beacons of hope - individuals who can navigate the maze of everyday realities, individuals who made it in the difficult road of life, and someone to provide emotional support. But what I also got out of the book, is that these older kathoeys create a sense social pressure for the young protagonists to become one of them. They have essentially “judged” and determined that they are one of the ladyboys.

It is somewhat disturbing to read words coming from the older kathoeys, suggesting that the younger individual should embrace his inner woman and go for a gender realignment surgery. And indeed all of the protagonist in this book who went for the surgery did so with the support/pressure from the older kathoeys. Some felt that it was the best thing to have happened, one regretted it.

And it got me thinking, once again, on the fluidity, and the non fluidity of sexuality; and that of gender identity. Having read psychology as one of my majors in college, the effects of Gender Identity Disorder is something that I know of, and to that end, I actively try to educate others about it - that it is a real issue that causes severe trauma to individuals. It is not something as simple as a person suddenly waking up one day and decides to be of another gender.

But through the stories here, I am confronted with the fact that there are a lot of social pressures within the transgendered community in Thailand to go for surgery - it is about status, and not about psychological wellbeing. What drives some of these individuals is the glamour of the community hanging out together.

This makes me wonder, is this the “secret world of Thailand’s third gender”, as the title suggests? If only the book would give us more than what it does



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The Culture of Cult

This must be something very familiar to all consumers: brand advertising that claim to bring “joy” to our lives and makes us feel “confident” about ourselves by simply using their products.

This focus on the emotional benefits and building of emotional bond with the consumer felt novel when brands first adopted it – moving away from functional benefits only, into something more ‘touchy-feely’. But when every brand out there makes you feel “confident about yourself”, they risk falling into the functional/emotional benefit trap and become the same vague brand that wants to own the same emotional territory as many others.

Arguably, brands become iconic and have a cult status not only because they managed to differentiate and own one particular emotion before another, but also because these brands ride on cultural waves and trends and consumers truly identify with these brands to make them a success.

If we look at Apple, the most iconic brand to date I dare say, it is easy to believe that they are successful because they owned “cool” mindshare. But that would be naïve – many brands positioned themselves as cool long before Apple did. What Apple did differently was to position itself as the underdog against a homogeneous computing environment of IBMs (in the 80s) and Microsoft Windows (90s and early 00s). Apple rode the emerging wave of rebellion against big, faceless corporations, as the hippies moving out of college and into the working world.

Mini Cooper in the 21st century further extended a cult status associated with its predecessor. This is not a simple “re-launch a popular model of yesteryear and it will be a sure hit thing”. Looking cultural movements, the world is indeed going through a sort of nostalgia counterculture, and we see a new generation revisiting icons of the past.

Aside from riding this wave, Mini also understood that consumers in urban cities today feel like just another face in the crowd, where everybody else is a PMET (professional/manager/executive/technician), buys clothes from the same mass produced labels, listens to similar songs… and as humans, they want to be noticed, be seen and be different. Hence by allowing the consumer to customize and personalize their Mini, they are giving consumers the opportunity to show their personality, and be a distinct face in the crowd.

Apple and Mini Cooper do not try to capture emotional territories but carefully ride cultural trends that other brands do not yet see and understand. This is how some brands become cult, not by being yet another cool brand that “makes you happy and enables you to be confident and be yourself”, but by understanding the emerging culture of the day and branding themselves accordingly.

[first published on flamingosingapore.com]

Remember: Singapore

If there is one thing that Singapore is renowned for, it would be the extremely rapid pace of development, and of course the notorious ban of chewing gum. The usual cliché of “reaching first world status in 4 decades” would need to be inserted here! Singapore is also associated with the countless global brands, symbolizing the modern progressive city that it has become.

Inevitably, things will have to go to make way for development. In the latest series of “things to go”, Bukit Brown Cemetery (one of Singapore’s oldest cemeteries, where many of the founding figures of Singapore’s history lie at rest) will have to be cleared for the construction of new roads. Make way for the living they say…


Amidst all this development, we see a rising counterculture movement amongst Singapore’s Generation Y: Nostalgia. To be sure, they are not rejecting modernization and development, but rather they are also embracing the past and breathing new life into what was “history”. This is a global trend – the revival of Lomography and Polaroid, vintage shops etc. We see brands taking advantage of this trend: like creating smartphone apps that allow one to take digital photo but with the look of yesteryear, and allowing them to be printed as if they were old photographs – almost as a statement against the extinction of the analog format.


In Singapore, we see a very country-specific manifestation of this global trend. Nostalgia seems to be popping up everywhere! Singaporean youths hang out along gentrified century-old streets and shop-houses: Craig Road, Haji Lane, Duxton Road, Arab Street, Club Street, where stores that sell vintage items are the place to be. In the “arty-farty” shops that attract these Gen Y hipsters, we see merchandises from yesteryear being sold: toys that children used to play with growing up in the 70s and 80s, designs from the iconic “Good Morning Towel” (below) reused on things like mittens, pencil cases and more.

As part of the latest café frenzy there is at least one new “indie” café opening up every other month, and we see Singapore’s cool-hunters heading to cafes that serve up food and coffee in retro tableware, and are decorated with bits and pieces of Singapore history.

Any counterculture expresses the ethos, aspirations and dreams of a population and perhaps the nostalgic counterculture that we are seeing from the Gen Y is telling us that we should not forget our past as we move forward, and that maybe not everything should give way to development. This is aptly captured in the film by renowned Singaporean filmmaker Royston Tan. In Old Places he reminisces, allowing us to still catch a glimpse of ‘yesterday’s places’ while they still exist, and before they are relegated to memory.


This counterculture trend is putting its foot firmly amongst the Gen Ys and is not likely to be a passing fad either. As the world gets increasingly urbanized, and as more things get lost in history, faster, this counterculture trend will only get stronger. Are you ready to embrace nostalgia for your brand?

GF*BF (女朋友。男朋友) - a movie review

Just last weekend, I watched a Taiwanese movie called Gf*Bf, which stands for Girlfriend * Boyfriend, a literal translation of the original Chinese title. Spoilers are ahead of course, but first, a trailer of the movie!

Trailer of Gf*Bf

The movie spans across a few decades and follows 3 teenagers as they grow through different phases in life - from high school to college to adulthood and finally as middle age adults. It is part coming of age story, part social commentary on homosexual and heterosexual relationship, and above all, a disquieting observation on the realities of life.

The movie starts during the tumultuous martial law period in 1980s Taiwan. Set against this period are 3 teenagers caught in an awkward love triangle - Aaron loves Mabel, but she only has eyes for Liam, who is secretly in love with Aaron. This movie might come across quite similar to "Eternal Summer" and "You're the Apple of My Eye" but do not be fooled. This movie is much richer, subtler and more delicate. Weaving through the painful love story is a very caustic observation on life and society. In the beginning, we see Aaron as the rebellious teen who believes that "if one person dances, it is called rebellion, but if the whole school dance, it is the student's will". He certainly lives by this motto through college and becomes part of student activist team that demands Taiwan become a fully functioning democracy. But for all Aaron is, he eventually becomes the cheating husband of a rich woman and a lackey to his rich and politically connected father-in-law. The feisty Mabel, who holds her own ground and confronts a shower full of naked high-school boys becomes the mistress of Aaron, because she can't find fulfilment in Liam. And Liam, who is the quiet, shy and repressed teenager eventually dates a married father.

From left to right: Liam, Mabel, Aaron

It is as if life played a cruel joke on all three of them. But at the same time, this is not something too far fetched. As we all grow, we know people who become slaves to the life they chose to lead, and yet we root for them, as we are rooting for the characters to do something else with their lives. We know that they can choose a different path in life, but they don't. There's almost a sense of helplessness as they become driftwood floating along the sea of life. This sense of helplessness is very delicately brought across by Yang (director of the film). There are many things left unsaid, so much so that even the scenes are deliberately kept vague - you need to watch on to understand what an earlier scene meant. A metaphor for life perhaps - that one will only understand today with the hindsight of tomorrow.

This film is also a strong social commentary on homosexual relationships. While Taiwan is fast becoming a gay bastion in Asia, there are still many laws that prevent homosexual couples from forming families - there are no provisions for same-sex marriages nor homosexual adoptions. The question one asks here is why? Is there an assumption that heterosexual relationship is the right relationship which has a happy ending? Clearly, in "Gf*Bf" there is no such happy ending. Almost every heterosexual relationship depicted is broken in some way. Mabel's mother is a stage dancer who does not acknowledge her daughter and runs away to another city. Aaron is in a loveless marriage and is having an affair with Mabel. Liam dates a guy who is married and even has a son, but continues the relationship with Liam anyway. Set against the social revolution in the 80s and 90s Taiwan, the lack of progress of homosexual rights seems even more ironic. If the people can muster up the will to demand a fully functioning democracy for Taiwan, why can't the people do the same for homosexual rights? Yang seems to lead us down this line of questioning with the wedding of the the flamboyant Sean. But a wedding it is not, rather it is a loud and lewd foam party with taut male torso. Is this what the Taiwanese homosexual community is destined to be - a faceless, superficial community who will "drop all grievances to attend a party"?

At the end of the day, Aaron, Mabel and Liam yearn to love and be loved - all their pains come from trying to love. The awkward love triangle has no apparent resolution until the viewer realizes that Liam in 2012 is the father (and guardian) of the love-children of Mabel (who passes on) and Aaron (who did not want to give up his current life for Mabel). It's an extremely bittersweet conclusion to the love triangle - a cruel joke almost. Yet in a way, everything is "resolved" in this unconventional family.

Yang, in his directorial statement said that this movie is about love and family, and that he wants the audience to know that "no matter what shape [family] takes on, no matter gay or straight, the main thing to understand is where there is love, there is family." And this unconventional family is, strangely the result of love.

Go watch it, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Book Review: Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death and Hope in a Mumbai Slum

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death and Hope in a Mumbai Slum. Katherine Boo by Katherine Boo
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Reviewing this book is not something that came easily to me, because this book is somewhat different from what I had expected. Picking up a book on India almost means that one will either be reading about the rags to riches stories, detailed emotional stories of the underclass, or some other stories that will arouse strong emotions in the reader. Not this book.

What is beautiful about this book is that it does not milk you for your sympathy, it does not wrench your heart, nor make you cry and weep over the lives of the 'residents' of Annuwadi. Instead it presents to the reader a novel of the every day lives of the undercity dwellers - the "life, death and hope" of them as individuals, and as a loose community who lived together not because they chose to. And so rather than crying your heart out about the tragic lives that they lead, we finish the book gaining new perspective and new understanding.

We feel like we have learned about the stories and the lives of the many different individuals in the book, and about Annuwadi. We feel like we might have more than an inkling of what every day is like for the residents there. We feel like we might have known the inner workings of the bureaucracy surrounding the fast developing Mumbai. Katherine manages to achieve this because she did not write a novel about one protagonist and the happenings around his/her life, instead she wrote about the many people of Annuwadi. She gave voices to different individuals - to Abdul, the garbage sorter who keeps the family business running because he’s really good at his job; to Manju, the college going daughter of the female slumlord Asha; to Sunhil, a scavenger who has to keep going to keep him and his sister alive, and many others.

And not once did Katherine allow herself to come into character, not once did she hint at any form of sympathy towards them, because the dwellers are not the poor and pathetic Indian caricatures that readers may have in their mind. So while we read about the corruption that happened to the Annuwadians time and again, the injustice that befalls them, the terrible living conditions they face, we come to realize that this is par for the course for the Annuwadians.

When we realize this, I suppose the bigger emotion is the hope that each individual Annuwadian have for tomorrow. That despite all of that, they carry on, hour by hour, day by day, week by week. And this “hope”, is seldom the stereotypical big hopes and dreams that we are used to, mostly it is a hope for something more immediate – putting food on the table, being able to give lessons to the children, making sure that the child is safe from danger.

Yes the book might not satisfy in the way we expect –it lacks the emotional arc that we might have become used to. Yes the book does indeed portray the world outside Annuwadi as somewhat of a ‘dark evil capitalist’ world. But this book is really not about those things. It is not about pitting the Annuwadians against the rising modern Mumbai, but instead it is a stunning portrait of the lives of the people living behind the wall filled with the advertising for “Beautiful Forevers” - a somewhat poignant dividing wall of modern Mumbai airport, and the modern Mumbai slums.


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