spray paint and missing numbers in mawlamyine

i thought i'd found the perfect wall in mawlamyine, myanmar - a crumbling expanse of plaster near the fish market that practically screamed for some color. then these numbers started haunting me: 1328421 and 1104832430. some shady character at the tea shop slipped them into my pocket, whispering they were the keys to the best illegal walls in town. i'm still not sure if he was messing with me or if there's actually something to it.

the weather here is a constant presence. i just checked my weather app: 20.94°C, humidity 62%, feels like 20.71°C. it's the kind of heat that makes your skin feel like it's wrapped in a damp towel. i love it, but it does a number on spray paint - the caps get sticky and the paint dries too fast on the nozzle. you learn to work quick.

when the walls run dry, i sometimes hop on a bus to dawei, a couple hours down the coast. that place is all about mangrove swamps, fishing boats, and this weird smell of dried fish that sticks to everything. not exactly an art hub, but the seafood makes the trip worth it. also, the people are less guarded than in the bigger cities.

i've been surviving on mohinga from street vendors. i stumbled upon the golden kitchen after seeing it pop up on TripAdvisor. their broth is deep, the fish is fresh, and they don't skimp on the onions. also, i heard from a local that the night market near the clock tower serves the best grilled squid in the region - slathered in a chili paste that will make you sweat bullets. i can confirm: i sweated through my shirt that night.

i also found a helpful Mawlamyine Community Board where locals share all sorts of gossip, from which streets to avoid after dark to where the best sunset spots are. someone there warned me about painting near the train station - apparently the police do nightly rounds and they're not lenient.

i spent a whole day trying to locate wall number 1328421. i asked a street vendor, a trishaw driver, even a monk. i got nowhere until a bartender in a smoky joint told me there's an old colonial-era wall near the old prison that has '1328' carved into it. could be a clue? i went there, found a wall covered in layers of history, but no number. i sprayed a quick tag anyway - just my signature and a tiny '1328421' in the corner. later that night, i dreamed of that wall swallowing my sketchbook. when i woke up, my notebook was missing. i'm not superstitious, but that gave me chills.

that wall at 1328421 is cursed, whispered the bartender, his voice low. everyone who paints there wakes up with their sketches missing.

the second set, 1104832430, seemed like GPS coordinates. i typed them into my phone: 11° 04' 83.2430"? that didn't make sense. after some tinkering, i realized they might be decimal: 11.04832430° N, 43.?? no, that still off. then a kid with a backpack full of spray caps laughed and said, 'that's da nang, vietnam, man. you're way off.' he wasn't kidding - those numbers point to a beach in central vietnam. i felt like a fool. i tracked down the coordinates on google maps and sure enough, it was a beautiful spot, but i was in myanmar. i confronted the tea shop guy; he just shrugged and said, 'maybe it's a metaphor.'

i heard the coordinates 1104832430 lead to a hidden beach where the police don't bother artists, said that same kid. he offered to sell me a hand‑drawn map for 5000 kyat. i passed, but the idea stuck.

i'm crashing at this tiny guesthouse recommended on Yelp: the monsoon inn. the owner, a former sailor, gave me a corner room with a view of the river. the bed is lumpy, the shower is cold, but the Wi‑Fi somehow works. and yeah, the rooftop is perfect for watching the sunset over the gulf of martaban. i sat up there last night with a warm beer, sketching ideas for my next piece. a local stray cat kept me company.

i also browse the global street art subreddit for inspiration from other artists in remote places. it's cool to see how different cities treat wall space. someone from yangon posted a piece about how you need permits now - meanwhile i'm painting without a care.

the barometric pressure hovers around 1012 hPa, which feels heavy, like the air itself is pressing down. it's not uncomfortable, just noticeable. humidity 62% means the paint takes forever to dry if it rains, which it does almost every afternoon. i've learned to carry a raincoat made of plastic bags - classy, but it works.

mawlamyine's got this layered past - it was the first capital of british burma, you know? you can still see those crumbling colonial buildings along the riverfront, with their peeling paint and overgrown balconies. i sometimes imagine what it was like back then: merchants from india, chinese traders, and mon fishermen all hustling in the same streets. now it's a mix of that history and the present chaos: motorbikes, street vendors, and monks in saffron robes walking past internet cafes.

i've been meaning to check out the old prison museum - it's now a gallery run by an ex‑political prisoner. he tells great stories, but also warns: 'don't paint the pagodas, the monks will kick you out.' i heard that from a monk himself, actually. i respect temples, so i stay away.

anyway, here's a map to give you a sense of where i'm at:

here's a view from the wall i painted yesterday, inspired by all the ghost stories i've been hearing:

i also caught this sweet shot of the morning market, where the numbers seem to appear everywhere on price tags and bus tickets:

some days i wonder if 1328421 and 1104832430 are just some random digits passed down by a drunk tourist. maybe they're coordinates for a treasure? i'm not holding my breath. but i'll keep looking, because the search is half the fun.

if you find yourself in this corner of myanmar, look for the neon‑painted elephant - that's my signature. and if you see a wall with '1328421' sprayed in dripping ink, take a pic and tag me. i might just be around the corner, trying not to get arrested.

p.s. the internet here is slower than a snail on sedatives, but i managed to upload this via a borrowed sim. cheers.

spray paint and missing numbers in mawlamyine

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About the author: Elena Rossi

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