မောင်တောမှာ ရွာတဲ့မိုး
It has been pissing down for the past three days. I am getting sick of it.
For many of us, rainy season often evokes a sense of nostalgia and romance. The cozy atmosphere created by the rains can be quite comforting and soothing. Given the chance, everyone wants to sit by a window, sipping something hot, listening to the rhythmic patter of the raindrops while indulging in their thoughts and memories. It’s a simple pleasure that many enjoy during the rainy days.
However, for those who must make a living in rains would have a different story to tell.
When I joined the organisation here a year ago, I was warned about intensity of the rainy season in Maungdaw during a security briefing.
“It’s intense and overwhelming,” said, Ko Kyaw Win.
“Expect occasional strong winds, heavy rainfall, and tropical storms that typically pass by the town in early May or later,” he added.
I felt excited.
Then the much-anticipated rainy season arrived. The first few weeks were hell yeah challenging. It rained for hours on end. I would wake up to dark, gloomy days in first two weeks of June. The house got flooded, the celling leaked, the floor became muddy. And the toilet got blocked. I was gutted. The feeling of frustration and despondency was real, loud and sharp.
The worst thing was having to walk through the muddy water filled with waste, plastic containers, and bottles.
I wrote an email to Mum
During that time, I lived behind the town municipal compound and took a back street route to work. This path led me through an overgrown, empty land where Muslim families used to live before the crisis.
She replied:
Now, the depressing tropical rainy season has once again arrived to piss me off. This year, though, the rainy season opened with a powerful cyclone named “Mocha”. The destructions it left behind is incredible, beyond words to describe.
It has been pissing down for the past three days. I am getting sick of it.
I hesitated to leave for work this morning. I waited for the rain to subside, hoping for a favourable moment however it persisted that I had no choice but to leave despite the downpour.
On the way today, I saw two kids, a girl and a boy who appeared to be not older than six years old. They had come to fetch water.
I observed the young girl attempting to operate a hand pump, which is taller and larger than her small frame. She placed her water pot beneath the water outlet. As she pressed down on the handle (force rod), her body went down with it (It takes on her weight to alleviate the pressure). And when the handle went back up, it lifted her off the ground, making it seem as if she was hanging onto it with her feet suspended in the air.
Her younger brother I believe stood nearby, supporting her in spirits despite his own shivering state. It was obvious that both were cold and trembling. No raincoat, no umbrella to shield themselves from the rain.
I could have helped them, but I did not. The harsh reality punched me in face with its all might… the difficulties, the inequalities and my beliefs.
For many of us, rainy season often evokes a sense of nostalgia and romance. The cozy atmosphere created by the rains can be quite comforting and soothing. Given the chance, everyone wants to sit by a window, sipping something hot, listening to the rhythmic patter of the raindrops while indulging in their thoughts and memories. It’s a simple pleasure that many enjoy during the rainy days.
However, for those who must make a living in rains would have a different story to tell.
When I joined the organisation here a year ago, I was warned about intensity of the rainy season in Maungdaw during a security briefing.
“It’s intense and overwhelming,” said, Ko Kyaw Win.
“Expect occasional strong winds, heavy rainfall, and tropical storms that typically pass by the town in early May or later,” he added.
I felt excited.
Then the much-anticipated rainy season arrived. The first few weeks were hell yeah challenging. It rained for hours on end. I would wake up to dark, gloomy days in first two weeks of June. The house got flooded, the celling leaked, the floor became muddy. And the toilet got blocked. I was gutted. The feeling of frustration and despondency was real, loud and sharp.
The worst thing was having to walk through the muddy water filled with waste, plastic containers, and bottles.
I wrote an email to Mum
The monsoon here is intense, and horrendous. It’s unlike anything we had experienced in YGN and other places. It rains for hours on end without a break and the intensity of the rain depresses me. It depresses me because my house and the road to the office became flooded, and not to mention the floating plastic and waste, becoming impassable and transforming everything into a muddy mess.
During that time, I lived behind the town municipal compound and took a back street route to work. This path led me through an overgrown, empty land where Muslim families used to live before the crisis.
She replied:
Yes, I understand the weather is depressing, but think of the poor people with not enough shelter and food. Today I have had more people come who are in great difficulties.
Thinking of you.
Lots of love,
Looking back. I realised how self-obsessed and caught up I was in my first-world problems at that time.
Midway through the rainy season, we had less and less rain. The sunny days outnumbered the wet days. Alex, our logistic site manager, and I even made a joke that it felt like a mid-summer instead of the rainy season.
Indeed, it was. Even the locals remarked on the unusual weather pattern which later resulted in a kind of drought that destroyed many paddy fields across northern Rakhine State and caused impact on agriculture and livelihoods of those dependent on it.
Now, the depressing tropical rainy season has once again arrived to piss me off. This year, though, the rainy season opened with a powerful cyclone named “Mocha”. The destructions it left behind is incredible, beyond words to describe.
It has been pissing down for the past three days. I am getting sick of it.
I hesitated to leave for work this morning. I waited for the rain to subside, hoping for a favourable moment however it persisted that I had no choice but to leave despite the downpour.
On the way today, I saw two kids, a girl and a boy who appeared to be not older than six years old. They had come to fetch water.
I observed the young girl attempting to operate a hand pump, which is taller and larger than her small frame. She placed her water pot beneath the water outlet. As she pressed down on the handle (force rod), her body went down with it (It takes on her weight to alleviate the pressure). And when the handle went back up, it lifted her off the ground, making it seem as if she was hanging onto it with her feet suspended in the air.
Her younger brother I believe stood nearby, supporting her in spirits despite his own shivering state. It was obvious that both were cold and trembling. No raincoat, no umbrella to shield themselves from the rain.
I could have helped them, but I did not. The harsh reality punched me in face with its all might… the difficulties, the inequalities and my beliefs.
Oh GOD, I have zero strength left in me to fight against the system.