‘The first time I looked for it, I was expecting a 5th floor office in a blackened apartment block, or a shuttered ground floor hole in the wall. I walked up and down Merchant Street between Bo Aung Kyaw and Pansodan several times before accepting defeat and asking in a tea shop. The old man took the slip of paper in his hands. Despite holding it upside down, he gave me a queer look and pointed straight up.’
My article for My Yangon magazine on the different literary associations that have arisen in Myanmar since the transition. Read the rest here.