UN called the situation in Myanmar a "textbook example of ethnic cleansing".
With all the atrocities by Myanmar Govt on the stateless Rohangiyas, I decided to feel the sentiment from deep within by travelling to a remote village near the Rakhine border.
500 miles from Yangon travelling through dirt road we travelled to a village not to be found in the map. With no road signs and light poles to guide through the dark unpaved road, the headlamps of the car were the only savior. Way past the bedtime and yet to reach the known house, it was a wise idea to make the car seat into a reclining bed and wait for the sun to rise.
With sun rays beaming through the glass window and loud morning sound from rooster, I had the very first glimpse of the surroundings with half opened eye. Children lined up around the car and it was little difficult to reason their bewilderment; is it the first spotting of an outsider or a mechanical vehicle that doesn’t look like their bullock cart?
Some what skeptical of my appearance who doesn’t look like them, gathered larger crowd but soon dissipate in their own life once my presence became familiar.
Quick on my feet, I went around the village to experience their way of life which has been totally cutoff from cities and towns, electricity and technology. A simple cattle hoarders harvesting their own farms for food, they work tirelessly in the blistering heat with an afternoon siesta by the roadside tree shade. As evening dawns, they march their cattle back to the shelter and prepares for the next day harvest. With no television to keep them entertained for the evening they rely on the neighbors for their amusement through social gossiping and laughing.
As dark falls upon with the fuse of the flickering oil lantern, the sound of cricket in the farm rhymes the Moonlight Sonata. Lying on bamboo floor hut, the life of the next door little girl flashed. Unware of the country’s political stance which brought it to the brink of isolation from western world, she stands still; her life is her village, farm, bullock cart. This is her reality of past, present and future.