Mandalay Safety: My Student Loan & I Are Panicking

okay, so i’ve been here six months as a broke student and i’m still not sure if i’m being paranoid or if this city’s kinda sketchy. the whole ‘is mandalay getting safer?’ question feels like trying to read a menu written in ketchup smears. i sit in my 200,000 kyat/month (roughly $100 usd, FYI) room above a noodle shop, listening to the generator cough and the guys arguing about tik tok dances below, and i just… wonder.

so i cornered my friend ko aung-he’s been here 15 years, runs a little tea shop near the train station, and has seen three different governments come and go. he’s my designated ‘local oracle.’ we sat sweating over sweet tea and i grilled him. this is basically our chat, spiced up with the fear of a kid whose parents think ‘myanmar’ is still a synonym for ‘danger zone.’

*me: ko aung, straight up. should i be checking my backpack for knives every time i walk back from the library at 7 pm?

ko aung: (cracks a grin missing a front tooth) ‘knives? no. pickpockets? maybe. but the real worry isn’t the guy with a knife. it’s the guy who bumps into you, says sorry in perfect english, and your wallet is gone. that’s the skill set now.’ he told me the old-school daytime muggings are down-cops actually cruise the main drags more since the tourism dip scared everyone. but ‘snatch-and-grab’ on scooters? that’s the new local sport, especially near mandalay palace and those shiny new hotels. it’s not ‘vibrant street life,’ it’s a 5000 kyat phone disappearing mid-breath.

me: what about the numbers? my mom sends me articles that make it sound like the wild west.

ko aung: ‘numbers? the police here count ‘robbery’ and ‘theft’ as two different universes. a stolen bicycle? theft. your bag pulled off your shoulder? robbery. so the ‘violent crime’ looks down because most are scared to report the small stuff. they think it’s pointless.’ he spilled some tea on the table-‘see? i report this? no. we internalize.’

me: so… safer or not?

ko aung: ‘it’s… complicated. the big, scary stuff is less. but the low-grade, daily theft? feels up because everyone’s poorer. my cousin lost his moto last month just outside chan mya thar zi. he says it was two kids on one bike. they didn’t threaten him. just drove by, snaked it, and were gone. no report. what’s the point?’ i found a thread on r/myanmar where an expat called it ‘petty crime inflation’-same energy. here’s a recent rant that’ll make your skin crawl.

the rent & job market reality check:
my 200k kyat room? that’s for a shared bathroom and a balcony that overlooks a burning trash pile. a solo studio in a decent area like aung myay thar? double or triple that. this tripadvisor forum has some 2023 whispers from travelers about locking doors even during the day in some guesthouses.
job market for students? tutoring english, translating for the few touristy spots left, or running errands for chinese businesses. pay is 3000-5000 kyat a day if you’re lucky. the ‘gig economy’ here isn’t uber eats; it’s finding a guy who knows a guy who needs a document photocopied. ko aung’s nephew got a ‘job’ at a ‘company’ that turned out to be just moving bags of… something… between warehouses. he quit after the third ‘something’ smelled like chemicals. he said, ‘i need my brain for exams, not for questions.’

the weather & neighbor game:
the weather right now is a miserable, dry-hot soup. it’s not ‘sun-drenched.’ it’s ‘the air feels like someone’s rubbing sandpaper on your skin and the sky is a bleached-out canvas.’ the ayeyarwady river is a sad, brown smear in the distance. my escape? a shared taxi to pyin oo lwin (about 1.5 hours). suddenly you’re in pine-scented, cool hills where people actually smile without checking your pockets first. or myanmar’s weirdest decision: going to the hot springs in shwenyaungbin, where you sit in boiling water and watch cows wander by. it’s communal, weird, and for two hours, no one wants your phone.

overheard gossip at the tea shop (drunk advice edition):
> ‘my friend’s brother works in the ‘special branch.’ he says after 10 pm, don’t even be on 83rd street. not because of crime. because of setups. cops doing ‘random checks’ where your moto papers are suddenly ‘invalid’ until you make a ‘donation.’ it’s legal robbery.’
> ‘the new 2000 kyat notes? good luck finding anyone who gives you change for them. that’s the real crime.’
> ‘if you see groups of young guys in white shirts on bikes swarming like bees? cross the street. that’s not a parade.’

so, is it safer?*
ko aung’s final word over a second tea: ‘safer for who? for the tourist taking a pre-paid taxi from sedona hotel to the palace? maybe. for the student walking home from a 6 pm class with a cheap phone and a full backpack? no. the city is a pressure cooker. the big explosions are rarer. but the constant hiss of steam? that’s everywhere. just… look like you know where you’re going, even if you don’t. and maybe get a cheap burner phone.’

i’m clinging to that. oh, and yelp’s list of ‘safe-feeling’ cafes mostly have armed guards and metal detectors. that tells its own story.

map’s below. the red dots are my anxiety.

i’m gonna go hide in the library. it smells like old books and desperation, which feels oddly comforting.

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