Myanmar 2009
2005 note: I couldn’t find my email home from a short trip in November 2009 to Myanmar, but I remember this trip very well. I think my company had tired of me and set me up to disappear!
Yangon, Myanmar
November 2009
Myanmar has been known by other names. During World War II, it was Burma and the Burma Road was a major supply route to inland resistance fighters trying to check Japan’s invasion of China and Southeast Asia. However, if you attended North Mesquite High School in the late 70’s, Coach Robertson would end any football or off season workouts that weren’t up to his standards with a run on the Burma Road. This dreaded route meant we had to run from the football field at the school, down Town East Blvd, turning at Burger King on Gus Thomason Road around the bank, around Town East Ford and then back the LBJ service road ending at the field house. I drove this in my 1969 Buick Skylark and determined it to be about two miles. So for most of my life, when I heard Burma, or Burma Road, I would be overcome by a wave of dismay.
So back to Burma, or rather, Myanmar. I was going to be in Southeast Asia on another work project, so the legal powers at my company decided I would be the best person to represent the company to tell an agency in Myanmar that we could not use their services. “Best person” in this case meant “most expendable.” Seems one of the principle owners of the agency was on a list the US Government maintains of bad guys. (The list is the SDN or Specially Designated Nationals and is online if you want to see if you’re on it.) The first thing I did was to Google the person in question. This person was a high ranking official in the Myanmar military that had run a concentration camp interring persons not in agreement with the government or just guilty of just being born into an out of favor tribe in the mountains. The concentration camp was (supposedly) gone because the government was (allegedly) cleaning up their act to better enter the world commerce. But the US Government is strict about penalties and sentences for anyone dealing with SDNs.
Not wanting to die alone in a third world country most people couldn’t find on a map, I contacted Hubert, the company’s finance manager for the regions that included Myanmar and we arranged to meet in Yangon. Which is sometimes still referred to as Rangoon. Myanmar changed the name of the city in the 80’s because Peking/Bejing, Bombay/Mumbai, Saigain/Ho Chi Minh, and other Asian cities had recently changed their names. (And if the other cities had jumped off a cliff?) I was impressed by Myanmar, but I have to admit, it would not have been difficult to exceed my expectations. It was a lot like Thailand or other Southeast Asia countries I had visited. The hotel was not a chain, but was very nice with carved ornate wood everywhere.
Hubert and I are picked up from the hotel by a representative of the agency. We are taken to a large office building with a lot of security that appears to be solely occupied by the agency. After presenting our passports and being issued passes, we are escorted into a long and narrow conference room. The doors open at the middle of the conference room and the table extends perpendicular 40 feet each way. We are instructed to sit in the two seats with our backs to the conference room door and offered coffee. While I always accept coffee in any business meeting, I’m starting to think if it is really really hot coffee, it may be the only weapon I have in the event I have to fight my way out. I also at this point size up Hubert. Hmmm…I’ve known Hubert for a couple of years. He isn’t bulked up, so I’m not sure how much help he will be in a fight. So the second option is, can I outrun him and the wolves will settle for him while I get away? While he doesn’t look like a brawler, he does look healthy and can probably move fast. Third option. Hubert is French. While he negotiates the terms of surrender, I will escape. So now I have a plan!
After my coffee cooled off to a harmless lukewarm, the doors behind us burst open and two columns of men march in, one to the right and one to the left. The two lines circle the conference room until the two leaders stop across the table opposite of us. When every seat had a standing individual, everyone sat down in unison. It was all very well choreographed. The doors behind us slammed and I turned to see two hulking individuals standing directly behind Hubert and me and directly in front of the doors. Wearing suits and I’d swear they were wearing holstered guns under their suit coats from the bulges under their arms.
Introductions are held for our benefits for the next 15 or 20 minutes. Each person announcing their position with the agency, and how they will ensure the success of every transaction they would handle on our behalf. I had to then introduce myself and explain how much I really, really, really wanted to use them, but the bad old USA Government had this list that prohibited us by law from using them and I would be arrested, fined significantly, and my company could cease to exist if we violated this law. The Head Dude (ie, former commandant of the concentration camp) put a briefcase on the table. He spoke in fairly good English and explained he had solved our problem. He had formed a shell company that would be our contracting entity to hide his agency’s involvement. All I had to do was agree. I was fairly certain at this time that the briefcase he had just plopped on the desk had either one or both of these items: bands of $100 bills or a handgun with a silencer. (I am writing this 16 years later, but I am not exaggerating this belief! Hubert later confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing.) He clicked open the briefcase and I drew in breath. He drew out the papers of the new company showing the official ownerships. Hubert and I looked at them and said that would still cause a violation with serious consequences for our company. He insisted we present it to our company management. He talked for a while longer on all the benefits his agency could provide to our company. He then stood and everyone else jumped to their feet on cue. He marched to the right, his number two marched left, and as they passed, everyone fell into line until the room was emptied. We were told to wait and our driver would come and take us back to the hotel.
That was the business part. Later that evening, Hubert and I wanted to celebrate our non-executions and we went out to see the sights of Yangon. There is a huge Buddhist Temple in the middle of town that rivals the main temple in Bangkok. It was massive, ornate, and definitely worth seeing. Hubert also took me to a bar that had ratio of 50 young attractive women to every man. Their numbers were massive, ornate, and definitely - never mind. He swears he did not know it was “that” kind of bar, but I have my suspicions. I drank my usual Pepsi (I think it was a Pepsi - a no Coke place) and visited a short time with Hubert on our adventures of the day, then I snuck out and walked back - alone - to my hotel.
Only two nights in Yangon, the local food was good, at least the dumplings and spring rolls I had. Overall impression of Yangon was positive. Just avoid any Mafia style business meetings and you will probably have a great time!
We have a deal you can’t refuse,
-Keith