Pavement Problems

In Myanmar, and probably in lots of similar places, a sidewalk has a couple of purposes. It’s simultaneously something to walk on top of, and a lid for sewage drains that run below it. Where I come from these two concepts are pretty much unrelated. One’s above ground, the other’s underground, and never the twain shall meet, or at least not till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat.

Here, the whole concept of not stepping on the cracks, which occupied perhaps the majority of my waking hours in childhood, has taken on an entirely new meaning. Before, I was just practicing the kiddy equivalent of what in adulthood I have come to call “mindfulness.” I knew pretty certainly that no true permanent harm would ever come to me if I ever messed up and put my foot on one of those little buffer zones between pavement panels.

But now, walking around the biggest city of a state that seemingly hasn’t devoted much attention to infrastructure maintenance since about the time Churchill was prime minister, I really have to watch my step. One false stride and I’m in the soup, as it were. In lots of spots around Yangon, the holes in the sidewalk are large enough to swallow a dog.

This town’s many ancient, gorgeous trees further complicate the situation. Do I look up or down?