A familiar chime wakes me early as the sun prepares to rise. The mornings are refreshing-- and the brisk cool air intermixed with the smoke that billows through my windows is a humble reminder of where I am. The most generous country in the world: Myanmar.
Early in the morning, I'd walk out to chase the sounds of ringing bells. Residents set outside along the path of their neighborhood, as they prepared to give and receive their blessings. The monks were collecting their food for the day.
One of the days I got to visit an orphanage with my friends family. Heartbreaking to see so many children abandoned, but it was also encouraging to see a community come around these children and donate as much as they could. More on that a little later-- but the spirit of giving in Myanmar is refreshing and encouraging, especially when trying to escape the savagery of capitalist ideologies. Coming to a 3rd world country-- and being eased of work-mentality, driven by a need to survive and succeed is ironic. But someone once said that the poor give the most. This place humbles me.