No More Home

As I have stepped into the airport, I noticed how hot the air is and realized no Air Conditioner or Light on inside. I kept scrolling my only one luggage as I needed to use the bathroom.

I was appalled how the airport turned out with no running water or drinking water. It looked likes zombie apocalypse movie. I was lining up the queue to get my boarding pass. I could not help but chipping my finger nails with stress. What if they highlighted my name and stopped me. Just a few days ago, some celebrities kept being caught in the airport due to their resistance to the military coup.

I stood behind my husband and texted him to compliant the heat. I could not talk to him as we agreed to pretend we did not come together. So that if one of us was ever asked to stop, the other one could inform the story. He replied me to connect wifi. But, their wifi looked a bit alarming. May be I am just too worried about “big brother is watching”

While I was queueing I noticed young boys stood up behind me and realized they were leaving Yangon to apply student visa in another countries. Yea, been there done that. Ugh. I tried my best not to look like one of them. The younger, the more risk to be detained.

A lot of foreigners, the Caucasian ones, of course, were with enormous amount of luggage as they were moving out of Myanmar for good. They brought their pets in cages and carried on their children with scrollers. It was around over 40 degree outside. The heat and wearing masks make children and pets burst into tears and noises. All these cajoling of children and pets made me more annoyed even. Oh good lord..

I got my boarding pass and I could pass through the immigration like a breeze. I felt relieved. I almost wanted to threw up and felt so sick while walking. I was not sure I was disgusted by the military actions to turning Myanmar as a deserted zombie land or the heat with covid gears.

The ground staff from the airline handed out Covid protective gears. I wore them immediately without hesitation. Covid-19 is the last thing I could worry now. I was more concerned about the police who walked around in the airport whether he stopped me for looking different from the crowd or detained without any warrant. The fear that they could do anything to anyone without any law or logic is more scarier than Covid-19. So, I put up the blue protective gear. I saw that many Caucasian travelers complaint they did not bother wearing as it would not protect much of Covid. Well, I could only think as if I were holding passports like yours, may be I would say so.

I sat down at my seat alone. I missed how I left Myanmar alone first time when I was 18 to go to school. I packed my multiple big luggage and dreams. I thought I could do great upon coming back one day.

This time, I left with one bag. Actually, I barely carried anything. I carried emptiness that I could not be sure of my tomorrows. I could not be sure of where I could ever call a place as “home”. I used to think that a home was where I could let my guard down and be comfortable with what I say in my mind. Now, I do not have home anymore as anytime my life could be ruined by cruelty of the authoritarian.

The plane landed. As usual, I still had motion sickness. I was crying but the engine was loud so I hoped no one would hear crying. I overheard two French guys beside me was having an intellectual discussion how Myanmar situation was an interesting and history-making moment. If it were my home, I would have turned my face to them and explained we were not history. We are humans whose lives are ruined and the world could watch it as an episode of a netflix series.

But, I did not say that. I kept quiet as a well-behaved girl. I just wanted to get out of that nightmare. Could I just go home? I queue in Immigration of another country with a heavy heart. I am not sure how long we will keep queueing. May be a month, a year or a lifetime. But, for sure, so many lives could not even queue anymore.