Turning Chaperones to Tour Guides

I went to sleep last night determined to do something about the overwhelming claustrophobic feeling I got when I found out I'm not going to be allowed out on my own until after the elections. I had decided that the school is being overly cautious, and I was going to firmly insist that I at least be able to explore the local neighborhood on foot after school.

Then this morning, over an hour before I needed to be at school (and I live at school, so it doesn't exactly take me long to "get there") I heard a knock at my window and, "Miss Katie! Miss Katie! Miss Katie!"

"Yes! Just a minute!" I scrambled to throw some clothes on. Meanwhile, "Miss Katie! Miss Katie!"

By the time I got to the door I was worried something was wrong. Opening it and seeing the principal of my school didn't exactly ease my anxiety, until she asked, "You go to market?"

I had just been to the market the night before, and I didn't need anything, so I said no. She looked confused. She went on to ask again, explaining that the market is near the train station and some girls from school were going to go, and I could take her motorbike. I shrugged and said, "Ok. Sure."

So we rode through the streets filled with monks and tuk tuks and motorbikes and street dogs.  In the background, the sun was beginning to burn the morning mist off of the Shan hills, and I got to soak it all in because I didn't have my nose in a map.

It turned out the girls didn't need to go to the train station or the market.  I realized when we were on our way back to school that they had gone just to show me around.

This afternoon, my principal asked me what I wanted to do after school.  There's a hill right next to our school with some pagodas and a monastery at the top.  I told her I wanted to climb it.  I felt a bit guilty because I knew she was going to find someone who would have to climb it with me.  Then I felt annoyed about feeling guilty because I would have been more than happy to go by myself.  I would have preferred it, actually.

Instead, I had three chaperones.  They spoke to each other in Burmese the entire time, while I focused on enjoying the scenery and avoiding the mud puddles.  One thing I did not have to focus on was finding my way there.  I just tagged along and took photos.

When we got close to the monastery, I stopped to take some photos of a beautiful old banyan tree.  When I rejoined my chaperones, I realized they were enjoying themselves.  The man who had been leading the way was having a friendly conversation with a monk.  The younger woman was taking photos on her smartphone, and the older woman had her hands clasped in prayer.  We climbed to the top together, and when we got there I said one of the only Burmese words I know, "hladae," and the older woman responded, "yes, very beautiful."  In that moment I realized that I hadn't needed to feel so guilty, and then annoyed, about having them come with me.  I had encouraged them to become tourists in their own town, and they were enjoying themselves.

We took a "shortcut" through the jungle on the way home, which was something I most definitely would not have done on my own.  As I climbed under vines and worried about snakes, I came to appreciate the fact that I was being shown a very local view of my new neighborhood that I would not have experienced otherwise.

So although I lost the debate over my freedom, I've decided I can still win at life in Lashio.  Instead of thinking of the people who accompany me as chaperones, I'm going to think of them as tour guides.  They're going to show me around in ways that only locals can.  I'm going to get to know the city without having to use a map, and hopefully they will enjoy our excursions as much as I do.

I'm going to add this to the long list of times that things have not gone my way when living and traveling overseas.  But, with the right attitude adjustment, sometimes there's an even better way.