A note on the power of small notes

moto man and, after negotiating a pillion charge, off we sped with me hanging on for dear life in search of a currency operator near the bridge.

We found one but he no do dollar, only baht and kyat. The moto driver reckoned I’d have to go back to the Thailand side. No way, I had a single-entry visa for Myanmar and I perished the thought of being stuck in Thailand and my darling in Myanmar. I reticently handed him a $100 note and told him to cross the border and look for kyat or baht on the Thailand side. He returned 20 minutes later waving my $100 bill, no can do.

Moto man was given some directions by the locals to an exchange dealer close to the bridge. This time I gave him a $50 note. He sought out a woman trader who said she would prefer a $100 note. I did the punitive swop and received a pile of notes in fact 92 000 kyats in 1 000 units. I was now able to pay the airport tax and settle my hotel bill. My darling was pleased to see me after an absence of four hours; things could have been worse if I had ventured back into Thailand. The $2 tax could have turned into an international incident.

Next day, we were the first passengers at the rather run-down airport, arriving at 7am. Once again, we went through passport and immigration procedures with form filling, writing and recording. A passport control official asked if we were occidental tourists. I replied, well sort of something like that.

There was no turning back; our travels in Myanmar had commenced. — © Brian Carlin

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