Lost in Transition: Navigating a New Reality After the Coup
Lu Ra recently completed a master’s in education at a university in the United States. She is originally from Kachin State—where there are a lot of conflicts between the Myanmar military and the Kachin Independence Army. Her story was collected on February 2, 2023.
“As for my dream… a dream doesn’t need to be practical, right? I want peace, real peace. I want people to sleep soundly. Mothers and fathers to be safe. Children in camps for internally displaced persons to go back home. I want to see peace before I die—for real.”
"In June 2021, I left Myanmar from Kachin State and started my trip to the United States. Since then, I have been feeling nervous; I am in a safe place, but I am in constant fear. I couldn’t adjust when I first arrived and got panic attacks. Everyone is suffering at home, and I am in a safe place—it feels suffocating. Due to chest pain and discomfort with breathing I had to visit the emergency room soon after arriving, but they ran tests found nothing wrong and the nurse asked me: ‘Are you struggling with something?’
I cried a river right there.
When the coup happened, I was in Kachin State, working with an NGO. At first, I did not believe the news, but reality kicked in. I participated in protests in Kachin State, I was strategizing with my friends, and we were going to the streets. Initially, we were part of the crowds, and later on, we organized fundraising.
When I hear an ambulance in Georgia, I freeze and wonder: did someone just die? I also worked as a teacher in conflict areas, and there were fighter jets at times! I feel one foot in one world and the other in another, and the two realities do not seem to merge.
I needed to talk to my mum every day or I panic.
I was never interested in joining the armed resistance. My dad was a Kachin Independence Army (KIA) soldier, and so was my grandfather. I was also involved with the Kachin Independence Organization (KIO); I taught displaced kids from camps in a KIO-controlled area for many years. For personal reasons, I am not interested in joining the ethnic resistance. My family has been involved so much that I believe we have given enough. However, I have a strong passion for education, so I’ll contribute in that way.
I think my personality has changed throughout the months and after the coup. In two years, I have made only four friends. My plans have changed, too. Before, I thought I would get involved and do this and that in our community. Now I feel like it's all gone. I have no plans. No more scenarios in my head. When I wake up in the morning, I have no motivation. With what is happening in Myanmar, I have no plans and am lost. It's hard to validate my feelings. I am blessed I have made a good friend in my housing; my roommate is fantastic! She is my support system here; she tells me it's alright to feel that way.
Social life is different here, and so is the schooling system. We did not grow up in a place where we could learn to think outside of the box. It took me so much courage to ask the professor questions. In Myanmar, your instructor is your God. Here, your instructor can become your friend. Academic life is hard, and there is a strong sense of white dominance here in Georgia. I expected diversity, but it doesn’t feel diverse. The truth is, I cannot see what others see; I cannot feel what they feel.
The coup did not affect my decision to study abroad. I had been preparing for years with community commitment and academic preparation. My family supported and encouraged me a lot. I married in December 2020, and in 2021, I left. My husband is very supportive. He is also studying abroad in another country. Until last year we had planned to go back to Myanmar together, no matter what. But now we have more and more concerns about our security, and he has been highly involved in some activites [that could put him at risk]. So, I think he changed his plan and we are looking for PhD opportunities.
My mum's happiness and health are my number one concern. Being far away from home means being far away from her. She is in Myitkyina. My dad passed away when I was young. My two eldest brothers passed away, so my mum is currently living with the third brother.
Sometimes I cry for several days until I feel better. But I don't give up. I tried therapy here, but it doesn't work; they don't understand who I am and the context I come from. Sometimes I read the Bible, and I find comfort in it. I cry until my eyes are hurting—it relieves me.
My motivation to be there for my community brings me to where I am today. At first, I wasn't interested in education, but after I worked with displaced children, I got a passion for it. I need to do something. Nothing is evidence-based in Myanmar at the moment, and we need to do a lot more research, and that's what I want to do. My husband too.
As for my dream… a dream doesn't need to be practical, right? I want peace, real peace. I want people to sleep soundly. Mothers and fathers to be safe. Children in camps for internally displaced persons to go back home. I want to see peace before I die—for real.
I would have been able to tell you how I wanted to be part of it before the coup. But right now, I just don't know. I stay away from politics as much as possible. I need help figuring out who I am myself. I am trying to pick up the pieces. I just don't want to get involved. People are so stubborn.
Oh, may I have curly hair for my illustration?"
These stories are collected by the Real Stories Not Tales team. Real Stories Not Tales is a dedicated team in and out of Myanmar that aims to bring awareness to the reality of people's lives since the Myanmar military staged a coup on February 1st, 2021. Stories are collected through interviews with each protagonist by the team, either in Burmese or in English. Each character is drawn by a professional illustrator. RSNT is an anonymous name that is used by the group to guarantee security to all parties involved in the collection of the stories.