Aung Hnin - May hatred cease

I'll have to leave Myanmar soon.

Saturday, August 30, 2014.

When I arrived at Yangon International Airport at around 10pm, it was already quite crowded. The ASIANA Airlines flight number 0 Z 770 to Seoul, South Korea, was probably the last one for tonight, so the airport was still emptying out passengers. I had arranged to show the documents my department had provided to escort family members inside the airport, but the airport security only allowed four of us, including myself, to enter. So, I greeted my only biological sister outside the departure hall, and went to the check-in counter inside the airport with my two mothers (one of whom was my mother-in-law), my wife, and I.

Since I was going on a two-year study trip, my luggage was full of Myanmar food and other necessities, so when I weighed my bag, it weighed over 30 kilos. The allowance for a plane ticket is 20 kilos. I called the ticket office two days in advance and asked for an extra kilo, so they added 10 kilos because I was going to study. However, since the e-ticket did not include the extra kilos, I asked the airline to check with them, and it was fine after checking the computer. I was told that a backpack and a small hand luggage bag that I would take with me were not allowed to exceed 6 kilos. The female staff member who issued the boarding pass told me that they would keep them at the entrance of the plane, which made me feel even more worried. When I weighed it, it was over 13 kilos. Since it was about 7 kilos more, I bought an English-Burmese dictionary published by the Myanmar Language Association. I had to leave behind the translated book "From Despair to Hope" about Korea's economic reform, written by Dr. Nay Zin Latt .

For the US$739 Yangon-Seoul round trip flight, my seat number was 27E . The sum of the two seat numbers was nine. Nine was a win, so I felt safe and secure about my trip. (This is an illusion.) When I passed through the immigration counter, I didn’t have to wait in line, and I was able to easily show the necessary documents in my hand carry because I had a special passport (green passport), so I was able to go through it quickly. They saw that the front page of my passport said Official Status: Official, Ministry of Livestock, Fisheries and Rural Development, but I asked, “Which department?” As I passed through the counter, I waved to the two mothers and their wives who were escorting me, and with my backpack in one hand, my small handbag in the other, and the stone painting I was going to give to a professor in the other, I headed to the boarding gate where the plane would board. I was heartbroken as I watched my wife leave the airport with her two mothers, carrying the thick dictionary and Nay Zin Latt book that I had left behind, and then turned to go through airport security.

I took off my watch, my pocket pen, my belt, my phone, my shoes, etc. and put them in the cup. I put my bags in the cup and put them through the security machine. I also checked my whole body and asked, “Which department are you from?” I realized by looking at the green passport in my pocket. Aren’t green passports issued exclusively to government employees? I answered, “Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs.” I was worried about being overweight again, but I was relieved to know that my belongings were okay because they were still in the machine and were still in the machine. While I was standing with my arms outstretched and my legs bent, I was asked again, “Are you studying or training?” I had to answer again. “Training?” I said, “How long will it take?” “A year.” The passenger who was leaving for Incheon Airport in Seoul was asked again, “Are you studying in Korea?” It was true. "Yes," he said, "There were a lot of groups of people on the plane ahead who had gone to study in Japan." (It was encouraging to hear that, I was the only one.) Thinking to myself that this was the last time I would have the opportunity to speak Burmese fluently and in a friendly manner, I began to prepare myself to try and speak English in front of me.

On August 31st, at 12:35 am, the plane started rolling and I prayed for a safe and secure journey. My seat was on the far right side of the middle row of seats, so I could only look out the window. As the plane took off, I could see the sleeping Yangon from the window as the plane tilted and turned. I felt a deep sense of sadness as I realized that I had to leave my homeland and loved ones behind and travel alone for a long time.

If only our country's education standard could be on par with the international level, I would be able to study in my own country with my family, so I have a longing for how good it would be. (I don't need to separate from my family and study far away.) I want to learn international-level education and participate in the process of building a modern nation with this education, so I went on an educational trip because I wanted to do something that I should do, rather than feeling special pride and joy. If I had the opportunity to see future generations living in my own country without being separated from their families and having the opportunity to study at world-class universities, I would be very happy.

Anyway... My third overseas trip of my life, my second to Seoul, North Korea, and my first overseas scholarship trip has begun. I set off after midnight, so I will arrive in Seoul the next morning. I had to leave behind the night of my beloved Myanmar to set foot in Seoul on that blessed morning.

I'll have to leave soon... Myanmar