Myaing (copy pasted from MF - my personal experience in Burma).
I was once made a living of myself as a truck driver, delivering goods from Mandalay to Yangon. Normally, the journey would be done during night time so that heavy traffic near urban areas will not affect my tight schedule. The road that I took is quite long and winding, around 40% of the time spent on it will be used to pass through the periphery of the thick Bago Yoma forest. Several villages exist on the sideline of this forest and it's not a rare occasion when you see a villager or two on the roadside signaling you their wishes to hitchhike, either to the next village or all the way to the capital city.
That night, my sidekick was sick and I was left alone to drive the truck by myself. It was raining and the road is almost pitch black if it is not for the lights of my truck's front lamps. The weather is cold, but I have my thick army jacket shielding me from the incessant chill.
Then around midnight, I saw a figure standing on the side of the road in front of me, making hitchhiking signals. I stopped the truck and open the passenger door, it turns out that the figure is a young girl, around 16 or 17 years old.
"Where are you going?" I asked her.
"Myochaung" she said, referring to a village not very far away from our current location.
I nodded and allow her to hitchhike.
She sit quietly with her face staring down at her thighs. She didn't utter any words, but it is very obvious that she is freezing from the cold. Seeing her situation, I took off my jacket and gave it to her. She was reluctant at first but then accepted it after I told her that I will take it back again in a couple days when I travel back to Mandalay.
As we drove through the road, perverted feeling started to fill my mind and the more I look at her the more stronger the feeling become. What is she doing here, on the middle of the road in the middle of the night? I glance at her body, not bad, typical of village's young girl. Because she is wearing a nightgown, I can see her pale white skin, probably due to her standing in the rain for too long. Could it be that she is a prostitute? But it is unclear from the way she dress. She looks more like a clueless teen running away from her parent's house in the middle of the night. However, there's lots of child prostitutes nowadays, especially during this time of economic difficulties, so there is a good chance that she is one of them also. I could not hold my carnal desire anymore and are about to ask her whether she is a prostitute or not, that is until I see her face.
When I see her sad face and teary eyes, I suddenly lost my passion and for some weird reason, I feel very sad as well, though I don't really know why. I lost my desire to consummate her and I don't have the mood to start any conversation either, so I decided to just keep quite. But I broke the silence when i tell her that we have reached Myochaung. She open the door and climbs down from the passenger seat slowly. It's still cold and raining outside.
"Be careful." I said to her.
"Thank you, my name is Myaing." She introduce herself while smiling which makes me surprised, considering how sad she looks while sitting inside the truck.
"Thank you for treating me good, thank you for understanding my pain, thank you for everything..."
She said that and then walk away hastily into the narrow village's road, disappearing into the thickness of the night, leaving me behind, wondering around in confusion as for what she meant by her words.
After that event, I totally forgot about her and went along with my busy schedule in Yangon. Several days later, while I was taking a day time journey from Yangon back to Mandalay, I suddenly remember about my jacket, and so I decided to stop by Myochaung and retrieve it, and perhaps meeting Myaing once again.
The village road is pretty narrow, but luckily my small truck can still fit on it nicely. After I arrive at the village, I park my truck in a safe area and began to walk. I ask one villager of her name and he pointed out to me a small hut, not very far from where we stand.
I knock on the door and an old couple comes out to greet me, I assume they were her parent. I tell them my rendezvous with her and my intention to pick up my jacket back. They are somewhat surprised after hearing my story. The old man than excuse himself for he said he needs to buy something from a nearby village's shop. The old woman then asked me to follow her into the backyard of their hut.
And there under the banyan tree, I see my jacket laying down above something, something like a tomb. I walk nearer, trying to confirm what I have just seen. It is indeed a tomb, with Myaing name clearly carved on it.
I was at shock, I have never experience this kind of situation before. I look at the old woman, desperately asking for her explanation to all these madness. She tells me that Myaing are their only daughter who pass away 16 years ago due to accident. It was a rainy midnight and she was running away from home after some quarrel with her parents about her boyfriend when a truck hit her as she was walking barefooted to another nearby village where her boyfriend live. The collision was so immense, that her body was torn apart completely and most likely, she died on the spot.
After telling me the story, the old woman broke down in tear and she cries and cries loudly, calling her daughter name repeatedly. I feel sad and shameful myself for the perverted thought that crossed my mind that night. I finally understand the meaning of her words, and I finally understand the sadness in her face.
Her father comes back from the villager's shop, bringing along with him a pack of incenses. I took out 16 sticks, burn and placed them in front of her tomb - and then, we pray for her to rest peacefully.
"What about your jacket?" The old man ask me as I am about to take my leave.
"Leave it be..." I tell him, and walk away.
