I have a lifelong connection with Burma even though my first visit there was in 2003 with my brother Eliyahu. I had heard stories from my biological father about his connection to this land.
My last visit, second of the two visits of 2019, once again reminded me how much humble I feel being with the Burmese, the nicest people of Asia and how grounded I become when I walk along the streets of Yangon. I am one of them, not separate in any fashion, even though my style of living would be alien to them.
All in all, I have visited Myanmar about 20 times and have had the opportunity to visit various nooks and crannies of this very interesting Golden Land and in the course of all these, even earned a name. AUNG KHANT, my burmese name that I am proud of.
this corner 27th and Anwharata Road in Indian Town is a corner of fond memories for me. I remember the morning in 2003 when I met the family who has the roadside stall and sewing machine there. I never missed a chance to speak to them when i was in Yangon, even though language was a problem. The lady of the house, A bamar Muslim, would always fetch a cup of Burmese tea, Le Paye, when she see me coming and offer a seat. She had married a grandson of an immigrant from Tamil Nadu who had arrived in the 19th Century.
The children are growing up. They have Burmese and Muslim names, explained Mr Tun Tun whose ancestral name was Tamil: Doraisamy.
I am a homeless doctor but I know that I have little places in the hearts of the Burmese family who has a singer machine and sows and repairs at the corner of 27th street and Anwharata road in Yangon in Myanmar (Rangoon in Burma)
