Friday, June 5, 2009

Rangoon: a tale of two cities amidst political turmoil

 
by Celeste Chenard
Friday, 05 June 2009 15:46

(Commentary) The youth brusquely inserted himself between me and the shoe repairman. I had often taken my damaged footwear to this particular gentleman, a middle-aged man, slight in build, who occupies a small area of sidewalk in central Rangoon between a vendor of pirated movies and a fried vegetable stand – but never had my business negotiations been usurped by local street thugs simply out to take a cut. "You have money," were the three words seemingly repeated ad infinitum – fingers jabbing in my direction. For his part, all the repairman could do was lower his head and eyes in silent apology.

It is often said development depends on the degree of political openness in a country. In Burma, relative economic openness was initiated in the early 1990s. However, without any corresponding gains in political openness Burmese society is instead increasingly characterized by social inequality. In the words of Aung San Suu Kyi, the country practices "close friends capitalism based on the favors of those who have good relations."

In Rangoon the establishment of a two tier economy is easily identifiable. Upscale malls, Internet cafes and clubs have sprung up, giving sections of the former capital an outward impression of modernization. But only a short distance away a very different Rangoon presents itself. Despite official statistics that detail economic growth in excess of ten percent for the better part of the decade, since the early 1990s it is estimated that the percentage of Burmese living below the poverty line has increased from 20 to 30 percent.

There are still shocking levels of poverty in some of the city's poorer districts, public transport is overcrowded, and for most of the population electricity remains intermittent at best. Infrastructure is in particularly poor shape, with badly decaying buildings, potholed roads and destroyed pavement – as if run over by a bulldozer – common sight.

A small population of privileged elite does live in special neighborhoods. They drive big cars, a luxury few Burmese can afford due – among other reasons – to archaic import restrictions which can geometrically inflate the price of a new vehicle. Meanwhile, taxis – invariably without all their working components – are driven by university graduates. Not uncommonly, two or three friends will together rent a taxi and work in shifts, impossible, they say, to otherwise account for the rent of the vehicle.

At the 50th Street Bar and Grill a group of young Burmese elite on a recent night mixed easily with the local expatriate population, talking of trips abroad and planning the weekend's reverie – in this case a concert by a band from the United States on Friday and poolside barbeque the following day. Priced in dollars, some of the Burmese in attendance that evening spent the equivalent of two percent the estimated average per capita income of their fellow countrymen and women.

And, on the shores of Inya Lake – oblivious to the nocturnal adventures of a Mr. John Yettaw transpiring at the very time – a well-off crowd packed the Power Light musical restaurant, adorning the female dancing troupes and singers with an array of garish gifts. If a girl is lucky enough to have a special following, it is said she can earn up to 300,000 kyat (approximately $300) in a single night. In comparison, in addition to room and board a live-in business assistant may expect to earn 20,000 kyat for an entire month's work.

And even if the recent global financial crisis, in addition to Cyclone Nargis, has taken its toll on Burma's financial indicators – growth last year was said to have slowed to 4.5 percent from previous double-digit highs earlier in the decade – the military leaders and their business associates continue to live lives of luxury compared to the vast majority of Burma's population.

In contrast to the sparkle and glitz that dot Rangoon's landscape, for most it appears it is becoming more and more difficult to make daily ends meet. Stagnant or nonexistent salaries fail to account for the ever increasing prices of commodities. While every morning people still go to the market, it is becoming more and more challenging for women to work within their budgets to feed entire families.

An elderly, barefoot man with a hollowed chest makes his nightly rounds through the city – literally covering dozens upon dozens of blocks – hawking shrimp crackers he carries in a large plastic tub to those frequenting the open-air teashops. Children, grime from the streets caked to their skin and thankful for even a 10 kyat note, tug at the shirts of people watching movies and videos on television sets placed out on the sidewalks.

Business is not good and people are keeping what money they can to feed their families and cover the basic needs of the household. An increasing number of youth are leaving the country in search of greener pastures.

Amidst this wanting economic landscape, recent political events have transpired to concoct a potentially volatile social atmosphere. Authorities continue to postpone the verdict of opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi, buying time and hoping to secure the domestic situation while mollifying international discontent.

In the past, a deteriorating economic situation has led to protests that inevitably took on a political overtone. Less than two years ago, in September 2007, the military brutally crushed protests originally ignited by an overnight drastic rise in the cost of fuel. Similarly, the massive unrest of 1988 came after years of disastrous socialist economic policies – and the instant demonetization of much of the currency – left a population desperate for reform.

Given the current political and economic climate in Burma, could history again repeat itself in the form of a mass uprising?

In a repressive state such as Burma, many people live in constant fear – including financial fear. Although some people have discreetly shown their dissatisfaction with the behaviour of the authorities in placing Aung San Suu Kyi on trial – gathering in front of Insein Prison in support of the detained Nobel Laureate – the streets of Rangoon are generally absent of a sense of civil uprising. People surely care about the fate of 'The Lady' and greatly respect her, but are at present more interested in simply surviving than in politics.

Nonetheless, who can predict the reaction of the population when the final verdict against Suu Kyi is announced? Even though the streets of Rangoon may be full of fortune-tellers – valued commodities to both rich and poor alike, in Burma it is often wise to expect the unexpected.

(Additional writing by Joseph Ball.)