On my second day living in Rangoon, Burma (renamed Yangon, Myanmar, by the ruling junta), I visited the blockaded American Embassy. After my passport was passed from person to person to person, I got in.

It was August 2003. Burma had been ruled by an oppressive, military dictatorship for more than 40 years.

I was 22, fresh out of college, and had come to work at the Myanmar Times and Business Review. Before my trip to Burma, foreign correspondents and Asia experts warned me about the situation there: don’t talk about the political crisis and don’t trust anyone, they said.

I had been warned not to trust even the Burmese staff at the embassy, so after my registration papers were complete, I asked to speak with an American.

A Marine greeted me and asked what he could do to help.

“I was just wondering,” I said. “What do I do if there is an emergency?”

“What kind of emergency?”

“Oh, you know,” remembering stories about the 1988 demonstrations when the army gunned down 3,000 protesters, “street riots and the like.”

“If there are street riots,” he said with a laugh, “stay in your apartment and we’ll come and find you. But I don’t think you have to worry.”

The junta controlled Burma with such a tight fist that street riots were practically unfathomable. Little did he know, four years later, Burma is now erupting in demonstrations and protests that have thrown the country into the international spotlight.

On the way back from the embassy, I was spotted by young boys trying to sell me postcards. I did not want postcards but they seemed to be more interested in practicing their English anyway.

We began walking through the downtown together, them pointing out the Yangon City Development Council and other government buildings. I snapped picture after picture, until one grabbed my arm and said, “Not here!”

I looked up and realized there were military guards with large rifles in the vicinity. “You saved my life,” I said. “Thank you.”

We came to a big intersection and they helped me cross the four lanes of speeding traffic. The Burmese cross one lane at a time, waiting in the middle of the road until the next lane is free. I never grew comfortable with this mode of traversing so I would find a Burmese who looked like he knew what he was doing, stick closely next to him and hope for the best. I didn’t know if there were many pedestrian-related traffic accidents in Rangoon— the media was not allowed to report them— but I wouldn’t have been surprised.

We crossed the intersection and a stooped woman in her 80s with piercing eyes and few teeth caught sight of us— two young kids and a tall white foreigner. She pulled me aside and, after nervously looking over her shoulder, whispered into my ear, “Be careful…Snakes in the grass. Snakes in the grass.”

I knew she was not referring to reptiles but to the notorious military intelligence (MI) officers positioned in tea shops, offices and schools throughout the country to spy on its people. Because of those “snakes,” no one talked openly in public places, not even at the Myanmar Times.

I nodded my head and thought, Wow, Burma really feels like a scary movie.

The boys took me to Sule Pagoda, the temple in the center of downtown that I could see from my balcony. It is at the heart of the protests this week.

I’m now living in Los Angeles. The closest I can get to Sule Pagoda is through the photographs flying around the web of monks and civilians protesting there.

It’s very scary knowing that these protests might turn into another horror story. The junta is petrified of losing power and might once again violently suppress the demonstrations.

On the other hand, this is the moment anyone and everyone interested in Burma has been waiting for. Finally, after 19 years, the people are standing up to the regime and demanding change. They want decent jobs and safe drinking water for everyone. They’re tired of reading censored newspapers and having the electricity go out at all hours of the day and night. They want to elect their leaders and then hold them accountable.

And they want it so badly they are risking their lives to get it. I applaud their courage.

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Photo Credit: Daily Mail. view more photos at irrawaddy. Contact hanna at: hingber@gmail.com

Tags: burma, censorship, monks, myanmar, protests