Illusions of normalcy

While preparing for one of my trips to the Far East, I learned that Myanmar (then Burma) had opened up its borders to allow 72-hour visits. I jumped at the chance. Burma had been a British colony.

I was surprised that there didn’t seem to be any strings attached. I asked Pan American Airlines officials if it was a good idea to stop over there. I had booked my trip with Pan Am since they had route privileges everywhere I was planning to go. My contact there was Willard Marsh, who said things were a little strained but a visit might be interesting.

He was right. Myanmar has had so many military coups it would be difficult to keep track of them.

I booked my stay at the famous Strand Hotel, the kickoff for the Burma Road, the famous start of operations for activity for the allies in World War II.

I asked my congressman, Lloyd Meeds, if we had an embassy there. He said no, but there was a small U.S. legation in Rangoon where I would be staying.

The sudden opening of the country up for short visits was for foreign currency. At the time, there was an international gem show there.

Meeds asked me to look up a friend who taught at Rangoon University. The professor had studied at Georgetown University in D.C., where the congressman became a friend of his.

I tried to contact the professor, and I had two very impolite visitors who came to the Strand wanting to know how I knew him and why I wanted to see him.

They were satisfied with my answers, it seemed. I learned later that the military establishment was set on eliminating all traces of Western influence. Needless to say, I never contacted the professor.

The military had a soldier with a rifle on most street corners, and there wasn’t much activity on the streets. I would say this: the food was good.

The hotel had a tennis court adjacent to the property. The alternative to watching people play was to walk the empty streets. It seemed strange for them to open up the country under such stark conditions.

I did make my way to the legation building and had a chat with one of the staff who told me that our officials had no contact with the military leaders.

A hotel staff member told me that they were going to show a Clint Eastwood movie in the dining hall and guests were invited to watch the movie. I had watched a Fistful of Dollars several times but figured one more time wouldn’t harm me.

It didn’t start well because the person operating the projector got the reels mixed up. So it was obvious that the military didn’t know much about running the country. Since then, it has been one coup after another.