THE closer the train drew to the city, the more jittery I became. The sun was about to set beyond the low-lying plains across the Yangon River by the time the helmsmen had slowed the train down with a long blast of the horn. I was slightly swaying along with the train. I was excited to see faces and scenes I had not seen for some time. The thought only made my heart beat faster. I had been assigned to work in my organisation’s Pyinmana branch for three months, the first time I had ever been away from Yangon for that long. While in Pyinmana, thoughts of my hometown rarely popped into my mind. I had never thought of Yangon as a great place to live, even though it had been my home since birth. But on that evening, as I got closer to the city, I couldn’t help stretching my head through the window and excitedly looking forward to taking in the cityscape – the main railroad station with its floral-motif towers, and Traders Hotel and Sakura Tower rising up against the orange sky and o