If there is one thing I can count on these days, is that eventually the rains slow and there will be a brief moment each day when it becomes a slight drizzle or simply stops. I find those moments to be the most quiet in this city. Everyone knows the rains will start back soon enough and there is a gentle calm that overtakes most everyone. All of these photos were taken during that in-between time.
The rains have become routine, expected, and daily. I have grown to like them (in part) and am thankful that despite the constant wet, and constant damp, the heat doesn’t overpower and the cooler, rain-weather normally wins.
The streets have started to flood and there have been more reported cases of people getting sick and dengue fever (this becomes far more prevalent during the rainy season).
Even in the in-between rain moments, most people still walk around with their umbrellas open. Although I’m not particularly tall by most standards, I’ve had one too many jabs and pokes to the head and face, and cannot handle it anymore. I’ve learned to patiently wait for the crowds and their open umbrellas to pass before I make my move, or be bold and make it clear that a taller person and her umbrella are also trying to make it through. I feel that there is a certain bond with all the other umbrella holders (most everyone) when a crowd tries to pass through a narrow sidewalk at the same time. The taller people raise their higher and the shorter ones lower. Often, this nonverbal communication between strangers works and most people pass what feels a good deal like a gauntlet.
All this to say, life in Yangon is filled with meetings, short-distanced taxi rides (*but, ones that involve a long-time sitting in traffic), long walks with heavy gear, too much coffee, and trying to find creative ways to make everything in my life less damp (no solutions yet).
GRACE FARSON 