June 6th, 2010:
I scrolled down the window after she came rushing to my car, stopped by a red light. She was so cute with a natural smile and bright teeth. In her hand I saw a string of white flower I did not know the name — something like bunga melor. I am not a flower man though. She waived the flower to me. I was more interested in her and not the flower she wanted to sell. I could not resist to ask.
“Name belu kole?”
” Tay Myat Noe.”
“Atek belau le?”
The red light turned green and I had no time to reach for the money. I knew it was about 100 or 200 kyats only or maybe less. She threw me an unhappy smile before rushing to the roadside again, waiting for another red light. No sale made this time.
She was just 11. She should have been home or in bed already at 10pm.
It was an interesting sight at the Shwegonedain intersection in Yangon, Myanmar. In this city, everyone has a story. Every face tells a story.