Sunday, 8/11/2015. General elections in Myanmar.

After half a century of military dictatorship and international isolation, these are the first free and democratic elections in Myanmar. The NLD (National League for Democracy), lead by peace nobel prize Aung San Suu Kyi, is challenging the USDP, the military-supported party currently in power. A new parliament will be formed, and several ethnic parties also want their part of the cake.
No one knows how this will go, and the weeks preceding the elections are signed by uncertainty. All you hear is „everything can happen“. There are rumors about the election system, about corrupt committees, about possible delays. Thousands soldiers are trained specifically to prevent and suppress any violence that might occur on the election day. There might be protests and demonstrations. The civil war in the north territories could escalate, or remain calm. The military might repress any popular movement, like they did in 1988 and in 2007. The results of the election might be accepted, or might not be. International observers will monitore the election process. Doubt, uncertainty, excitement.

Sunday, election day. In the evening the streets of Yangon are empty, only some dogs bark to the moon and sniff around for some food.

On Monday, the day after the elections, my friends Simone, Ambrin and I decide to go to the NLD headquarters. This might be considered a stupid and irrational act, since for the entire last week we were warned at least twice a day about how dangerous it could be, if any riots or demonstrations escalated, the militaries and the government and the police and blablabla. We were strongly advised by the German Embassy to carefully avoid bigger gathering of people (if you say it in German it immediately sounds more intimidating: „Menschenansammlungen und Massenveranstaltungen vermeiden“) during the election and the following days. I myself spent the whole election day locked up in my humble apartment, being lazy like crazy; but after the election day had gone by surprisingly peacefully, there was no real reason to believe that the NLD headquarters would be a dangerous place.

We get there in the evening, curious, not knowing what to expect. It’s dark, the humid tropical night has taken over the hot tropical day. Already a few streets away I can „smell“ the big event, you know what I am saying? That sense of hidden excitement, that uncertain feeling of being about to be part of something big. As we reach the headquarters, the view of a huge crowd unfolds to our eyes: red flags everywhere, thousands of people in the middle of the street, bandana-wearing children on the shoulders of their dads, many young students, some older ladies. Happy faces. An electric atmosphere!

It reminds me of my short but intense experiences of political activeness and street demonstrations: back in 2012, when the students of my school occupied the building for a few weeks to protest against the shameful actions of the Italian government, which was trying to face the financial crisis mainly by cutting a lot of money from schools and universities. I enthusiastically joined several demonstrations, marching through the streets of Cagliari with my co-students, waving flags and calling for more respect for the education system. „Una nazione di ignoranti è più facile da governare“ (A nation of ignorants is easier to rule), this was our battle cry against the cuts.

As the first (unofficial) results started to be reported to the crowd, the red carpet of people explodes. Jumping, waving, tumult. I catch some numbers here and there, percentages, districts, states, divisions. It is all in Burmese, but the message is clear: victory, victory everywhere!

Ok, let me come to the point. Why am I writing his? Of course, I want to raise awareness for this historical moment Myanmar is living; of course, I want you guys to read and know about the faith of this country, so intensively beautiful and terrible, that is slowly but steadily growing to become very important to me. But I am not aiming to give you a detailed analysis of the election results. This is not meant to tell you which party got how much percent, what is still going to change, which scenarios of political coalitions are in sight after the first waves of numbers and percentages. The results will not be completely official until November 23rd, and the president is probably not going to be chosen before March 2016. Anyway, I am more than happy if you find out about the results here.
Neither am I trying to give you an insight in Burmese politics, a summary of the latest historical events, or a solution to the huge problems Myanmar is facing today, both economically and socially. Yes, super interesting topic, but actually there is a policy of „kulturweit“ (my volunteering organization) that tells us to be very careful with what we post on our blogs, and sort of prohibits us to openly declare political positions and opinions.

What I want to tell you is simply the power of what I witnessed tonight. I saw a huge crowd of young Burmese men and women, all of them wearing a red NLD bandana, or a T-shit or a scarf, waving the big red flags with the star and the peacock. I saw them cheering loudly at every result that was transmitted on the big screen. It was not an aggressive cheering, not a „ha! the other lost and we won“ cheering, but a simple and genuine explosion of happiness. I saw them singing, with closed eyes and strong voices, all together, clapping their hands, and then I saw them waving, jumping, hugging each other. I saw them smiling. Now, as you know I am a big fan of the Myanmar smile, a constant companion during my days here; but this was a different smile: not the polite, tender and gentle smile, the usual smile, no, this was different. A strong, radios smile, a smile expressing proudness, security, hope. A confident smile, a „finally, we can do this!“ smile.
This smile was not for me though, and not for the few other expats standing around: it was for her, the Lady, the founder of NLD, the daughter of a national hero, the Nobel prize for peace 1991. Aung San Suu Kyi. Again, I don’t want to deliver a statement about her or her political ideas, I only want to describe what I saw while standing in the middle in that crowd. To them, Aung San Suu Kyi is an idol, a symbol, an angel. Even more than that, she is like a mother to them. They sing „may may naing mha phyit ma ba“ (Mother, we need to win), and I swear that I got goosebumps listening to that. This woman is the daughter of the man that lead Burma to independence in 1948, Aung San; she has given up her comfortable life in Oxford, UK, to fight for the freedom of her country form military dictatorship; she has spent almost 20 years in house arrest. This is what those people see, and for this they adore her.

I really hope that this will be the chance for freedom and democracy that Myanmar has been waiting for 50 years, since the military coup of 1962. I really hope that these people will get want they want.