• Ships in the mist scenes from a burmese childhood
    Ships in the Mist: Scenes from a Burmese Childhood

    This month we have dedicated our coverage to Burma and it’s repressive and secretive regime. Because publishing is so tightly controlled there and the government regulates communication, it is difficult to have access to stories of daily life in Burma, a perspective offered here by City of Asylum writer-in-residence Khet Mar. Khet Mar fled Burma in 2006 after her relief work with Cyclone Nargis survivors attracted the attention of the junta.

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  • 45-Hour Trip: Part III

    This is the final part of “45-hour Trip” by Khet Mar. In Part I she writes about her departure from Yangon and in Part II she relates her journey from Yangon to Taipei.

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  • 45-Hour Trip: Part I

    In March 2009, the writer Khet Mar left Burma to come to Pittsburgh for her residency with City of Asylum/Pittsburgh. In this three-part blog she relates her arduous journey from Yangon to her new home on Sampsonia Way.

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  • Sad Sunday

    I was sitting on the sofa one Sunday morning when the phone rang. I didn’t want to get up. I just wanted to do nothing. I finally grabbed the phone, and it was Ko Kyaw Shwe, [...]

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  • Destroying to Protect Creation

    translated by Aung Aung Taik About ten days later after battling the weeds in my garden, I began to see the little reddish sprouts of lettuce. The green peas were perhaps shy at the beginning; just [...]

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  • The Roots of Everlasting Happiness

    translated by Aung Aung Taik As the Pittsburgh spring finally arrived, I began to see some stores displaying packages of vegetable seeds and bags of soil and fertilizers. Sometimes, on the sidewalks, I saw shops selling [...]

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  • A Change of Seasons in a New Land

    translated by Aung Aung Taik My very first trip to America was in 2007 to participate in the International Writing Program held at the University of Iowa.  Here I am, again, in America for the second [...]

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  • The Trouble with Grass Weeds

    translated by Aung Aung Taik I had been gazing at my new American backyard, longing to be able to garden as I used to in Burma. My neighbor, Henry, brought me a rose bush that another [...]

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