Mathida (Sanchaung) - Sanchaung Insein Harvard

Walking with vague dreams

Elementary school dreams

Starting from Mya Kyun Thar.

The huge gate was opening its chest in two. The gate introduced the President's Road. At the end of the President's Road was the Convocation Hall with a tree. Even from a distance, the Convocation Hall of the Yangon University of Arts and Science was magnificent. On one side of the hall were two large lions. Not far ahead was a single, straight, long, and sturdy tree. As you passed the gate, there were school buildings on the left and a field dominated by tall grass on the right. If you look closely at the tall grass field, you can see that it was quite old.

A grave in the winter. The grave is inconspicuous among the nearby brown grass, red dirt road, and green-leafed sycamore trees.

"This cave is the cave of Ko Aung Kyaw, a student leader who died while resisting the colonialists. There used to be a big building in this area. Now it's gone. The army demolished it and many students died. They were also arrested. My father spent the night in Yangon because of an incident. The next morning, he couldn't return to the campus, but he could only return in the evening. This big union building no longer exists. It was once where my father and students gathered, held meetings, and sat in a tea shop," he explained.

At that time, I was in primary school. The most visited place since I could remember was the Shwephone Pwint Pagoda and the Thaketa Bridge near our childhood home, and then the Yangon University campus. My father loved and missed his old school, so he would take my siblings and me from Pazun Daung to Kamaryut, and from the east of Yangon to the west by public bus almost every Saturday and Sunday. I had the opportunity to hear about Mya Kyun Thar from my father almost every week, including the names of the dormitories in the campus, which famous students lived there. What was happening to them now. Many people called the Yangon University, which is always green with big and small trees, and which overlooks the vast Inya Lake, Mya Kyun Thar. My siblings and I also gradually became happy in the arms of Mya Kyun Thar. If we read the pages of Myanmar's history from the colonial era to the present day, Mya Kyun Thar cannot be left out. The history of Mya Kyun Thar is usually not beautiful. Blood, tears, Just as the history of Mya Kyun Thar, full of sacrifices, struggles, and challenges, captured me deeply, so did the colonial-era buildings, the lush green trees, the beautiful Inya Lake, and the vibrant images of the Mya Kyun Thar monks and nuns.

Hospitalized due to counterfeit drugs

That's why the first dream I had when I was a human was to attend the graduation ceremony in the graduation hall in the lap of that mountain. That dream made me a diligent elementary school student. My mother, who had once been a teacher, wanted me to become a doctor.

I was so young that I wanted to attend Mya Kyun Thar's graduation ceremony and receive any degree I could.

However, I have always been in poor health. My father, who lost both his parents during World War II and had to go to school with the support of his siblings, quickly finished school and got a degree in economics, but because he was interested in medicine, he studied home remedies, so in our small apartment, where we lived, there were plenty of medicines, and my three siblings were used to the smell of medicine. They were not afraid of taking medicine, and they did not consider the smell of the hospital to be disgusting. However, I have had allergies since I was a child. There were many things that I was allergic to, such as strong smells, pet dander, seafood, and extremely hot weather. If I came into contact with these things for a long time, my whole body would itch and break out in rashes. On top of that, I had the common cold when I was in elementary school.

After taking the antibiotics given by the clinic, my body temperature rose to 106-7, I lost consciousness, and was admitted to the children's hospital. The next day, according to my mother's plan, each of us siblings went to the house to take care of the baby.

At the urging of Pho Bon Pho, I tested the medicine I had taken and it was not real but fake. Needless to say, I am still suffering from the effects of that fake medicine. My discomfort became worse than before and has not gone away to this day. The red door of the Chinese Embassy opposite the hospital and the smell of incense that I saw and felt at the children's hospital at that time are some of my unforgettable memories. Having been in constant contact with hospitals and clinics, I have come to love and admire the doctors and nurses.