Hot and humid with unpredictable downpours that force its citizens into dark teashops perfumed with the scent of a sweet and pungent brew, Burma is a country that evokes a carefree and romantic image. This image is feverishly maintained by the brutal regime, or military junta, that controls Burma — a country many students wouldn't be able to find on a map.

Now called Myanmar (pronounced MEE-an-mar), its citizens may smile at the few foreigners allowed in, but an undercurrent of fear grips the place — fear of the despotic junta and its reputation for the imprisonment, forced labor, torture and murder of its own citizens.

However, the Burmese — especially Burmese students — should not be thought of as apathetic and docile citizens, resigned to a future controlled by a brutal military regime, known to many simply as "The Generals." Students both inside and outside Burma have been calling for a regime change within the country for decades.

Students at many of Burma's universities were at the forefront of protests against the military regime in 1988, staged in response to a rapid cancellation of some banknotes of the local currency, the kyat.

One of the leaders, Gen. Ne Win, wanted only 45 and 90 kyat notes in circulation because they were divisible by nine, an auspicious number within numerology. This seeming frivolity wiped out many citizens' savings.

"The first uprising was led by students, an amazing effort and historical event that I hope does not go unrecognized as thousands upon thousands have died during and since," said Noi, a University of Washington student and member of the Burma Action Group on campus.*

"In the history every riot is led by the students, so they (the Generals) don't like the students," said Tin Aung, a student from Burma studying at the UW.

He was only a child at the time of the protests, but remembered that his family supported the demonstrations in 1988.

Burma's story has played out in the American press. Rare footage of the September protests circulated: Saffron-robed monks marching against a regime that has ruled for decades, with citizens linking arms in protection against plainclothes military enforcers hiding in the demonstrating crowds.

But as soon as the rumblings began, the junta responded with violent force (that is just being uncovered months later) and the news cycle ground on to other stories.

Burma may have faded into the background for some, but for others, like those whose stories follow, Burma is always on their minds.

Burma's history

Flanked by India, Bangladesh, China, Cambodia and Thailand, Burma is one of many countries in Asia that has been entangled in oppression and violence.

Burma gained independence from Britain's colonial rule in the late 1940s, with the help of Gen. Aung San (father of pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi). Gen. Aung San was assassinated soon after independence, and conflict and division continued to rock the country.

In 1962, a military coup suspended the newborn constitution and established a Socialist version of the military government that rules Burma today.

Protests against the regime have been put down with tremendous, and often brutal, force. During the immense protests in 1988, government military forces killed more than 1,000 demonstrators and many students were tortured and imprisoned.

The most recent protests were led primarily by monks, though the junta claims it rules with the sanction of Buddha. As Burma is a predominantly Buddhist nation, the monks' protests in September had an enormous impact among its Buddhist majority.

However, in rural areas where many of Burma's ethnic and religious minorities live, like the Shan and Karen, the monks' protest did not have as much of an effect.

Insurgencies against the military junta, spearheaded by such minority groups, have been going on since the country's independence, though the current junta has signed various ceasefires.

The protests have been mostly a "Burman movement," said a UW graduate student who has vast experience on Burma and within the country. However, he said, there is a general wish for a change of government among most citizens, whether ethnically Burman or not. The student requested to remain anonymous out of fear for his safety if he decides to go back to Burma.

The protests in September were the largest since 1988, and they left the government scrambling for power. The government — called a "severe regime of censorship" by Jennifer Leehey, a doctoral candidate who studied censorship in Burma — cut off phone and internet access across the country, preventing journalists from filing stories and citizens from alerting the outside world via the Web.

Monasteries were emptied of monks and villages were raided. Pictures of the floating bloodied body of a monk has since surfaced on the Internet and video of the murder of Japanese journalist Kenji Nagai by Burmese soldiers can be seen on the video-sharing site YouTube. The regime did not fully succeed in upholding the mask of carefree tropical beauty it has tried to maintain for decades. Cracks are now showing in its veneer.

The Burma issue is more complicated than can be relayed in a few words. The junta's alliances are extensive and various, and the regime is practiced in secrecy and obfuscation, all techniques used to increase and preserve the junta's power and disguise its abuses from the international community.

However, the junta's illegitimacy as a government is clear. In 1990, parliamentary elections were held and the National League for Democracy party won 392 of 485 seats. This victory made Nobel Peace Prize winner and pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi the rightful leader of Burma, though she was under house arrest for her opposition activities. The regime simply declined to call the parliament to session.

This show of complete disregard for citizens' right to a representative government has spurred some students to action.

Noi's story

"From that post to the wall," Noi gestured from a small black pole near the Suzzallo Café Espresso stand, past the doorway to the opposite wall. "That's how long the bridge was," she said.

She said it with a flourish as though she was describing a bridge between two different planets. In a way, she was.

One of many ways to cross into Burma by foot, the bridge she described spans the border between Thailand and the Shan state of Burma.

A gathering place for children snuffing glue, mafia members to deal and Burmese farmers to sell their fruits and vegetables, the bridge became a metaphorical marker, for how two countries can be so close physically, but in reality so very different.

Noi, a graduate of the nursing program, studied abroad in Thailand, which is a relatively affluent country when compared to Burma. She studied in the Thai state of Chiang Mai and worked with people in need of basic medical care.

She crossed into Shan and its town of Tachilek from the Thai city of Mae Sai with a friend.

"You don't see the oppression," Noi said. "They [the Burmese] always have a smile on their face."

Shan is, in her opinion, one of the most tightly controlled areas of the country. Burma's military regime, known as the State Peace and Development Council, keeps Shan under such tight control by having government officials infiltrate every aspect of Burmese life and silence any signs of dissent.

In essence, there are government spies everywhere, from popular tea shops — where people gather to relax and chat — to monasteries, which were the starting points of dissent against the regime in the September protests began after an unanticipated fuel hike of nearly 500 percent.

"When I was in Burma a few weeks after the inflation in gas prices, ... I did not hear any grumblings among the people in Shan state," Noi said.

She would not have known anything about the monks had one not come out a few days before the monks began their march in September, she said.

"It's like 'Big Brother,'" she said, referring to George Orwell's novel 1984.

The government also kept close tabs on Noi, though at the time she was so comfortable and at ease she didn't know she was being watched. When she crossed into Burma she had to surrender her passport and get a national identification card that was to be handed over to officials at military checkpoints, hostels and other places. When Noi retrieved her passport she also received a receipt of her travels, a frighteningly accurate list of where she had been in Burma.

"The military regime is always present; the people have made it a habit to not talk about anything that may be political or have a negative image on the military regime, as they never know who is watching or listening," she said.

It is apparent Noi's travels through Burma made an indelible mark on her, and she speaks much of the future and how citizens of countries with much more liberty than the Burmese can make a difference.

"People are asking for help and need help to maintain change. This is the new age, the fact that countries are moving so slow shows how sad the world is," she said.

She described the plight of students in Burma as a way students can help. Young people come to the United States from Burma for medical school and are "passionate about learning," but back in their home country their degrees are useless.

"What do they do? Sell vegetables at market," Noi said. "Professors aren't allowed to work because the government is fearful of knowledge. Knowledge is power."

The foremost thing that students can do to help is to spread the word, she said. There is still an undercurrent, she said, that things are not being reported and that deaths are being underreported.

"Continue to make it big, put it in the headlines," she said.

The second thing is to aid the people.

"If we pull out companies, we need to provide support," she said, referring to calls for Chevron to pull out of Burma.

Many activists said the regime is fueled by proceeds from the Chevron pipeline, but Chevron's officials were quick to say that it provides jobs for many citizens as well. If the company were to pull out of the country, there is little doubt that another country's business would gladly take its place, according to an article published October in the San Francisco Chronicle.

There needs to be a balance in decision-making on behalf of the citizens of Burma, Noi said, and the international community needs to be careful and look at the consequences of its actions.

Also, traveling there at this time supports the government, and it's unsafe, she said. It is hard to completely avoid supporting the regime, but a tourist can avoid government-run hostels and government-owned airlines.

Know the background of the country and its laws, because, as Noi said.

"You can kill someone with your actions [in Burma], even if they are innocent," she added.

Friday: Part two — a new Generation in Burma

*Name has been changed for safety of student.

[Reach reporter Erinn Unger at features@thedaily.washington.edu.]