I read some articles and rearrange text in my files.
At one o’clock I go to meet M.Z’s reading group. The establishment is called Myanmar Institute for Democracy, is on third floor of an apartment building and a small topless young man opens the door. Yes, this is the right place, the others will come soon and goes off to shower. The institute contains two tables, chairs, bookcase, toilet paper, TV, charts on the wall and junk in the corners. And two topless young men. Both have been to prison. The other one got a capital sentence. The first, the smaller one drew something on a flag and stood with it in the street. Got 38 years. In 2012 everybody who were in prison then got out and new people went in.
Slowly M.Z and some others arrive, most of them students. We talk about three hours, I fill a couple of pages with crooks. In general, the problem is imported. The real problem is that there is no common enemy anymore. The majority population loves the minorities but the minorities don’t love them back. I’ve heard that one before.
The reading group is currently reading a book about sociology. Marx is popular. Media monitoring shows that the themes and attitudes in media haven’t changed with the change of government. That means that the new government hasn’t done much.
I have a look at colonial architecture. Architecture is falling apart, sadly the locals have discovered that they could earn money with it and fenced the buildings off with the pretext of renovation. Ministers’ Building or Secretariat, the headquarters of the British and the place where Aung San was shot in 1947 is an imposing red brick house. Inside is a cool double spiral staircase but now it is only possible to look at in internet ( There’s a plan to open the house to the public next year. Some more colonial buildings in the neighborhood. Pegu club, the gentlemen’s club of the British and the symbol of racism is even more firmly fenced off. I circle the block. In a yard is a tree stump near the fence. Possible to climb over but difficult to get out again. I spot a guard and approach him. He is friendly but confirms that the house is closed for the public. So this also can be looked at only online ( is a web site where one can get ideas for architectural walks in Yangon.
In hotel I count my money and find that I’ve spend on average seven Euros a day. So I go and eat in the expensive Italian restaurant. It is just the closest option.
Other developments: words and phrases in Bamar are slowly surfacing from the depths of my memory.
nothing special

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