The (almost) Many Faces of China's Environment and Growth

The day started and ended with dengue fever and the sun. The day itself was a 95 mile bicycle ride. Kianna-my tandem bike partner-and I started our trip in Kyiaktiyo, a Buddhist pilgrimage town, and peddled south along Myanmar’s coast to Mawlamyine, a former trading crossroads quieted by years of trade sanctions.

Buddhist temples and the ocean distracted from, but didn’t alleviate, our dengue fever’s gnawing fatigue and nausea. Meanwhile, the green mountains inland threatened to approach and inflict more uphills. Albeit friendly, dozens of “hellos” from Burmese tested our sociability.

A motorbike pulled up-one more hello. But then the driver stayed, corralling us between himself and the roadside. Our mismatched engines gave him complete control: our legs could never beat his petrol assisted wrist. Whereas our sweaty shirts clung to our backs, his ironed pencil blue work-plaid fluttered effortlessly.

We struggled to exchanging basic personal information. For him (engineer, 32, single, one sister, hometown Mawlamyine), it was the language barrier. For us, it was our exhausted patience and bodies. Traveling means acting the social politician, even when you are tired, but there are the times you just want to stop kissing babies and quit the election.

He then moved on, not to his home, but to new questions.
“What do you eat in the US?”
‘Pizza’ (don’t make me think of pizza now)

“How is the weather there”
‘Cold’ (did I mention my dengue fever?)

“Is it difficult to see the sunset in your country?”
‘what?! why?’
“well tourists are always watching it here...”

Eventually he sped off as an uphill slowed us down. Relief.

10 minutes later-“honk honk!”. How did he get behind us? Why is he carrying my pants?

“I found these, they fell off”.

Guilt at my previously curt tone reduced my thanks to a murmur. “What hotel are you staying at? I’ll take you there!”. Too tired to rebuke, we followed him, checked in, and laid down.

‘Knock, knock’ “Want to eat dinner with me?” he asked.

‘Sorry, we are going to rest, thank you”.

Twenty minutes later, I looked across the street from our hotel to the crowds watching the sunset over the Andaman Sea. Our motorbike friend sat curiously watching the sunset as tourists took pictures.

I hobbled over and asked “isn’t the sunset easy to enjoy?”. He smiled and motioned for me to sit down. And so we sat and talked, about the US, about Myanmar.
But mostly, we just watched the sun set.