Episode #94: Pride and Prejudice
It’s hard to describe the extent to which Pyae Phyo Kyaw is simultaneously helping his people on the one hand, while taking a sledgehammer to the barriers that have long defined Burmese society on the other. A gay doctor who has traveled deep into Karenni territory with his boyfriend to set up a mobile medical clinic in some of the hardest hit areas, Pyae Phyo Kyaw is attempting to dismantle, by word and deed, the structures of prejudice and mistrust that have long existed within his country.
Pyae Phyo Kyaw (also known as Victor) is from a diverse heritage: his family is of mixed Sino-Bamar and Karen descent, represented by adherents of both the Buddhist and Christian faiths. Unfortunately, a discriminatory attitude towards gays is a common thread woven through this rich ethnic and religious tapestry. “Buddhism taught us that being gay is consequence of our evil doings in the past life. And Christianity taught us being gay is a sin.” He adds, “The society I grew up was a bit homophobic. They see gay people as funny creatures, as things that deserve to be mocked. It was totally okay to discriminate, to make fun of, and to insult gay people.”
Pyae Phyo Kyaw was aware of his sexual orientation from a young age, and the lack of acceptance grew heavy. He attempted suicide several times, until he finally found a way to let go of his inner shame.
“I learned how to accept myself,” he says. “I began to realize that I am not the problem. The people who think gay people are inferior and sinners, that's the real problem! That's when I learned to embrace, love, and accept myself.”
The first confidant Pyae Phyo Kyaw trusted was his beloved grandmother who, although “shocked,” did not judge him or challenge his orientation, but merely asked if he was strong enough to publicly embrace that identity in a society that would likely not be so welcoming. Considering that advice, Pyae Phyo Kyaw decided to wait to come out until he had his medical degree. “As a full-fledged doctor, I can make a living on my own, so I'm ready to face the challenges.”
His decision to come out coincided with the period of democratic transition in Myanmar, a time when LGBT activists began pushing for greater freedoms. Lynette Chua’s The Politics of Love in Myanmar, which chronicles the ongoing struggles of the gay Burmese community for acceptance, describes this time well. Still, the reaction Pyae Phyo Kyaw received was not all positive; for example, the private hospital in Mandalay where Pyae Phyo Kyaw and his boyfriend worked prevented them not only from having the same shifts, but even eating at the same table. Pyae Phyo Kyaw also had to encourage his partner to accept his own identity, something he was still struggling with.
“When he met me, he was still thinking that he was a sinner,” he explained, “and that he deserved to be treated unfairly by his family. So I had to change his way of thinking. I told him being gay is not a sin, it is a natural thing and you have you shouldn't be shameful of yourself. It's them who should be shameful because you are their family, and yet they treated you unfairly. If they really love you, they should love you. Even if you're gay or you're straight, whatever you are, they should still love you. So, you have to change your way of thinking so that you could live more freely, I told him, and he finally accepted that.”
Soon after the military coup was launched in February 2021, Pyae Phyo Kyaw was touched to see members of the LGBT community marching alongside everyone else in the streets in the nonviolent protests that came in response. “People used to describe cowards as gay,” he recalls. “They use the term ‘gay’ as a symbol of being weak and wicked and cowardly. But they started realize that it's not true! Because we are also brave, and we can do the right thing. We know right from wrong, and we are also resisting the military government. And they started changing in a positive way.” Pyae Phyo Kyaw also began to detect a kind of sea change in attitudes taking place before his eyes among the online community in Myanmar, particularly on Facebook, and was further amazed when the opposition-led National Unity Government (NUG) appointed an openly gay minister.
Prior to the coup, Pyae Phyo Kyaw and his partner had been planning to go to the UK for study. Yet like many other Burmese, they felt it was their responsibility to put their own plans on hold and instead use their skills in any way possible to support the democratic movement. It became challenging to do so in Mandalay once the military began raiding clinics and arresting doctors, so they began making inquiries as to which areas most urgently needed help, eventually settling on Karenni state.
“In May 2021, the military launched a long-range attack at the village that I am currently with,” he says. “So they moved deeper into the jungle. When I first came here, it was really hard, because there was no infrastructure. We only had rain proof sheets and bamboos. So we had to build tents with that, and the only water we can get is rainwater. We had rice, but mostly all we had was bamboo shoots. There was hardly any meat.”
Amid those difficult conditions, they set up a medical clinic. Moreover, it had to be mobile as well; they sometimes needed to flee from military incursions that often went out of their way to target civilians and IDPs. Pyae Phyo Kyaw had never been in a conflict zone before, and it was not an easy adjustment. “When I first heard an explosion, I was restless and really afraid. I couldn't sleep at all. I walked back and forth, back and forth, then I was really nervous. I was afraid it fall over me, and I prepared my packages and just walked all around the camp.” Yet, sadly, the sound of explosions, airstrikes, and gunfire has since become so familiar to him that he has gotten used to it. Pyae Phyo Kyaw’s and his partner’s activism is perhaps all the more remarkable in that they both come from military families (although since the coup they have cut ties with relations who have served as soldiers).
Although Pyae Phyo Kyaw has had to face his own significant challenges being something of an outcast in mainstream Burmese society, the extended experience in Karenni state has made him realize just how much privilege he nonetheless enjoyed compared to the terror that villagers waged against them for generations by the military, which he heard in story after story from villagers. “I was ashamed of myself, because I was living in the same country, and I didn't know about that,” he admits. “I was really angry. It’s became more clear that we have to take down the military or such things will keep happening. So we must put a stop to them.”
Pyae Phyo Kyaw has had to treat Karenni villagers who have lost limbs to landmines the that he saw soldiers plant, and he has seen others die from treatable diseases because they simply couldn’t get the proper medicine. Combined with what that population has had to so long endure, it all strengthens his commitment to help build a more equitable society in Myanmar.
“In the face of greater evil, we all have to unite. Right now, it is like we found a family, because we've been through so many hardships together. Even after the coup, this kind of trust was spread. I think we act as the link between the Karenni people and the Burmese people.”
But beyond acting as a bridge between two different cultures, Pyae Phyo Kyaw and his boyfriend are also making a profound impact on Burmese society as well, having become something of online celebrities. He is quite aware of how their service and sacrifice are breaking down social and cultural barriers for perhaps the first time in that country’s history.
“I'm trying to build a community safe for the LGBT people, because I don't want anyone in the next generation to suffer what I've suffered. I want society to see us as equal, that we're not weak and we're not wicked. And we also deserve respect. And that's why I'm trying this hard to set an example.”