Markets line the street. 

Vegetables, fish, meat, all resting at our feet.

Teahouses bustle at lunch. Thermoses of tea and treats sit on each table. Shan noodles, beans and onion cooked in groundnut oil, coconut soup, potato curries and puri served by boys who should be in school. Tea and coffee come out of packages, a sugary delight.

People chatter in Burmese. Aung San Suu Kyi's photo and the National League of Democracy logo sit proud. Teahouses served to pass messages inconspicuously in an era without free speech.

Menu translations falter: pork internal orgasm curry. If only I ate meat.