Myanmar

I went to Yangon at the start of 2020, around Independence Day, when the city had a cautious kind of optimism. The Shwedagon Pagoda glows gold over the whole city, and the Chaukhtatgyi reclining Buddha is enormous, with a calm white face and patterned red soles bigger than a car. I banged a giant gong, wore a longyi like everyone else, and ate my way through the street food.

Chinatown was getting ready for Lunar New Year, with red lanterns strung across every street, stalls frying snacks and a DJ stage in the middle of the crowd. I had Myanmar beer and Shan noodles at 999 Shan Noodle Shop, which is a tiny place that's worth the wait. A year later the coup happened, and that optimism disappeared. I think about the people I met there a lot. I'm glad I went when I did.