Burma!

I have arrived! Aaaand I saw two fender benders just on my way from the airport, wahoo!

I'm staying in a sixth-floor, walk-up dorm. There's approximately zero space between my mattress and the mattress of the origin-as-yet-undetermined European dude sleeping next to me. Hopefully he's not a roller. I met a girl in the same room who is basically my Canadian equivalent: She's from B.C., she graduated in 2008, she's a journalist traveling for five months. 

I had a samosa, a piece of friend chicken and a pancake thing with lentils and veggies rolled up in it for dinner. 

It was basically dark when I arrived, so I haven't been able to see much, but already I can tell it's a world apart from Thailand. 

I'm going to stay in Yangon for three nights and then hopefully head south to the town where one of my favorite authors, George Orwell, was once stationed. I say hopefully because my Canadian friend says a guy she talked to called a hotel down that way and they told him not to come. Period. Because there was no room. Oy. She also said some people were sleeping in monasteries when they couldn't find rooms, but now the monks are wary of this because they're getting in trouble with police (foreigners are supposed to be registered every single night). 

Also, there's a Burmese teenager in this Internet cafe crooning "Payphone" and it reminds me of my little brother. 

Wish me luck...