Episode #337: U Jagara's journey is characterized by a deep commitment to spiritual practice, resilience, and the pursuit of authenticity. Growing up in a small town in Quebec, his early life was marked by a desire to find meaning beyond the material world. Inspired by his brother, U Jagara took his first vipassana meditation course with S.N. Goenka, and eventually traveled to Europe, India, and Burma, where he ordained as a monk under Mahasi Sayadaw. He persevered in this endeavor despite the challenges posed by cultural differences and an unstable, political climate.

Visa issues forced U Jagara to leave Burma, prompting him to continue his monastic journey in Sri Lanka. There, U he lived a simple ascetic lifestyle, re-incorporating the Goenka meditation method into his practice as he also ventured to India for long retreats, and spending time in isolated, mountain hermitages. He emphasizes the importance of embodying spiritual principles in all aspects of daily life, not just during formal meditation sessions.

After 15 years, U Jagara took a break from monastic life, moving to France where he disrobed, lived a lay lifestyle, and fell in love. This phase offered insights into attachment, intimacy, and the balance between worldly and spiritual commitments. Eventually, Burma's reopening led him back; he re-ordained, focusing on cultivating advanced meditative states at Pa Auk Monastery.

A key theme throughout his journey is balancing structure and freedom in spiritual practice. U Jagara stresses the importance of critical inquiry and creativity, cautioning against rigid attachment to any one tradition. He acknowledges the human vulnerabilities of monks, advocating for a realistic understanding of spiritual life. His story encourages embracing both discipline and freedom, while maintaining an urgency to pursue true liberation—a journey that requires resilience, openness, and a willingness to question and adapt.

As U Jagara puts it, “Sometimes we need a slap from reality that helps us to wake up to the fact that we are going to die, and that the sickness and all these things are just part of our existence. When we are aware of that, then we will keep that kind of eagerness just to keep our life in that direction. It's a sense of urgency, saṃvega, that dimension in Buddhism.”

Episode #336: “We just want war to end.”

With this blunt declaration, Malaysian MP Wong Chen encapsulates his call for ASEAN to play a constructive role in resolving Myanmar’s civil war. Speaking from Bangkok, Wong outlines Malaysia’s two-pronged approach during its ASEAN chairmanship: first, cutting off weapons, revenue, and logistical support to both the junta and resistance forces to pressure them toward negotiation; and second, leveraging Malaysia’s strong ties with China to push for a peaceful resolution before the chair rotates to the Philippines, who does not have as good a relationship with the regional giant.

While personally critical of the junta, Wong insists Malaysia must act as a neutral facilitator to be effective. He proposes appointing Thailand’s military, which has close ties with both the SAC and resistance groups, as ASEAN’s long-term adviser on Myanmar. Wong also supports a temporary halt in arms and trade, particularly in jade and rare earths, as a way to weaken the junta’s war economy and force it to the table. For Myanmar’s ethnic armed groups, he urges reframing dialogue around economic incentives and a federalist model. Regarding the NUG’s possible participation in such talks and beyond, Wong expresses sympathy for the organization, but critiques its lack of military presence, leadership clarity, and funding. He warns it could be sidelined in future negotiations unless it reorganizes.

Wong is sharply critical of ASEAN, blaming a lack of political will and calling for a dedicated ASEAN parliamentary body to lead on issues like Myanmar. Though he doubts quick results, he urges bold steps now and insists, “We cannot give up.”

Episode #335: “It was super hard to cope with.” That’s how Mia Kruska, a German researcher and policy advisor with the Green Party in Berlin, describes learning about the devastating earthquake that recently struck Myanmar. Mia has cultivated personal, academic, and professional ties to the country over the past decade. Her connection began with a backpacking trip in 2014 that evolved into her academic career. She also served as board chair of the Myanmar Institut in Germany and currently works on Southeast Asia policy issues.

When the earthquake hit, after checking in on her friends in Myanmar and along the Thai border, she was overwhelmed by emotion and helplessness. But rather than simply repost traumatic images, she turned to a lesson from her early time in Myanmar: Burmese generosity. She recalls, “You have to be thankful for giving,” and used this insight to encourage meaningful, grassroots donations.

Mia challenges Western narratives that cast Myanmar as mainly a victim. She emphasizes the resilience and reciprocity of its people—both within the country and in exile. She also reflects critically on the ethical responsibilities of Western researchers, highlighting the importance of acknowledging privilege and subjective bias, and the willingness to engage with humility in collaborative endeavors.

Her message to fellow allies is clear: show empathy, offer material support, and don’t be deterred by complexity. “Even ten euros make a little difference,” she says. Ultimately, despite the many challenges, Mia concludes with an enduring sentiment: “I still have hope.”

Episode #334: James Rodehaver, head of the UN Human Rights Office on Myanmar, describes the aftermath of the country’s recent earthquake as a crisis layered upon crises. With communities already devastated by a brutal military regime, the natural disaster has only intensified their suffering. Yet instead of pausing hostilities, the military launched over 100 attacks in just nine days—many targeting rescue efforts and civilians. Consistent with a long-standing pattern, the junta has weaponized aid, restricting access to opposition-held areas and rebranding the disaster to channel relief only to zones it controls. The military‘s strategy appears deliberately cruel. Notably, paramotors—silent man-powered gliders used to drop explosives—have struck rescue workers and survivors. Despite a declared ceasefire, attacks continue, reinforcing the military’s aim to break morale in opposition areas.

As a result, the humanitarian response has been severely hampered.  Adding to this, civil society had already been gutted by years of conscription, repression, and exile, so now, the only ones digging through the rubble are poorly equipped civilians, often under threat of violence or forced labor. Rodehaver notes that even informal relief efforts are becoming increasingly difficult.

Rodehaver calls for a coordinated international political push, and a unified resistance front. He envisions a broad platform where anti-junta groups can articulate shared goals. Only through trust, coordination, and outside pressure, he argues, can progress be made. Closing with a personal note, he honors those inside Myanmar: “Their courage and unflappable will to keep on resisting tyranny ... has been inspirational.”

Episode #333: “The challenging times that we are facing reveal more than what we should do—they reveal who we should be.”

So says Jeshua Soh, a Singaporean entrepreneur who has built a life in Myanmar grounded in long-term commitment, creativity, and service. Calling himself a contrarian in his life and business choices, he was first drawn to the country after a teenage-year visit in 2012; his connection to the country strengthened through volunteer work and friendships. To solve problems of hiring in his field, video production, where global freelancers and Singaporeans alike frequently left his employ for more lucrative gigs, he decided to take a chance and open a Yangon office for his company, building on his feeling of connection to the country. It worked. His Burmese team proved remarkably loyal; soon, other startups asked to place staff with him because of his success and growing expertise in the Myanmar business climate. This led to the launch of Crosswork, an HR-as-a-service platform that now supports over 120 employees.

Alongside running his business, Jeshua launched a storytelling campaign to counter Myanmar’s negative global image and highlight the country’s culture, people, and potential. He has also taken on humanitarian initiatives, including cycling from Singapore and walking 500 kilometers from Bangkok to raise over 150,000 SGD for the Mae Tao Clinic. Just minutes after completing the walk, a powerful earthquake struck central Myanmar, prompting Jeshua and his team to quickly mobilize and lead extensive relief efforts.

A core concern for Jeshua is Myanmar’s brain drain. He urges those who’ve left not to give up on returning, warning that international aid alone can’t substitute for skilled citizens who help rebuild. While he acknowledges safety concerns and doesn’t romanticize the country’s challenges, Jeshua believes in choosing action over paralysis. “I’m swinging for the fences,” he says. “And I think that there is value in a bit of contrarian thinking. Usually, it starts off something like a crazy idea—[that is] until more people start following!”

Episode #332: “We should do something to change, or we should have [an] alternative way to do something,” says Lily, a Myanmar-based artist and documentary filmmaker who has turned from observer to humanitarian in the aftermath of Myanmar’s devastating earthquake.

Originally intending to document the destruction in the Sagaing region, Lily quickly shifted focus confronted by the chaos on the ground. Filming became too risky due to military surveillance, and the humanitarian need was overwhelming. She began working alongside monks and volunteers, distributing aid and conducting needs assessments. Traumatized survivors, collapsed buildings, and the scent of death painted a grim picture. Yet what struck Lily most was the spontaneous community response in the absence of government leadership—monasteries, mosques, and local volunteers self-organized to help.

Lily emphasizes the importance of asking communities directly what they need, even when survivors are too disoriented to fully articulate it. She believes that showing care and listening is a powerful act in itself. However, she’s concerned about inefficient donations and the sustainability of relief once panic subsides. Memories of Cyclone Nargis, when military corruption diverted aid, still haunt locals, making many donors wary of formal channels. Though international support has been modest, mostly through grassroots networks, Lily stresses that solidarity—not pity—is essential.

This experience has changed her: no longer just documenting from a distance, she is immersed in the rebuilding process. “If we have some intention—to change or to transform or to rebuild or to reconnect—we have some direction… That’s, I think, what I’m doing.”

Episode #331: “My friend told me it is like the crumbling of the world, because everywhere, everywhere is destruction.”

Burmese Buddhist nun Sayalay (who has chosen not to give her full Pāḷi name for safety concerns) speaks about the humanitarian crisis following the devastating earthquake in central Myanmar. Focusing on the country’s spiritual heartland, the Sagaing Hills, home to centuries-old monasteries and nunneries, she describes how the region was hit hard, with monks and nuns killed, buildings collapsed, and survivors left without clean water, shelter, or medical aid. Critical infrastructure, including bridges connecting Sagaing to Mandalay, was badly damaged, delaying relief. Junta restrictions further obstructed rescue efforts, blocking aid and forbidding the use of essential heavy machinery.

It's mainly volunteers who are working rescue operations, but they are severely limited as to what they can use because of the junta’s paranoia; even basic tools are sometimes confiscated. Hiring machinery to clear rubble costs more than many nunneries can afford, yet without it, decomposing bodies pose serious health risks. Survivors, especially young nuns, suffer from trauma and nightmares. Some speak of visitations from the dead, pleading for help from beneath the rubble.

Sayalay, a former nurse, is coordinating aid through her nonprofit, Metta Stream Foundation, and stresses the importance of spiritual action. “When we practice mettā bhavana, it’s not only for us to recite…but we need to do it physically.” Her message is one of compassion, resilience, and a call for global solidarity with those suffering in Myanmar.

Episode #330: “When President Bush called that morning and said, ‘Pull back [away from Myanmar],’ I just couldn't compose myself. I broke down in front of all the Marines, and so I had to run into the bathroom and I just cried and cried,” says Mie Mie Winn Byrd. “I knew we had all the capability to help them, to relieve suffering and provide aid, but there was nothing I could do.”

In a powerful and emotional reflection, retired U.S. Army Lt. Col. Mie Mie Winn Byrd recounts her role in Operation Caring Response, a U.S. humanitarian relief mission following Cyclone Nargis in 2008, which killed over 135,000 and displaced millions. Born in Burma, Byrd brought vital regional expertise to the U.S. effort. Yet despite American readiness to help, Myanmar’s military regime blocked aid access, allowing only limited deliveries of critical supplies, which it then left to rot on—or disappear from—the tarmac.

Byrd draws clear and direct parallels between Cyclone Nargis and the recent earthquake in Myanmar, underscoring the military’s pattern of paranoia, cruelty and obstruction. Byrd calls the junta not a legitimate government, or even a legitimate army, but rather a Mafia-like, organized crime syndicate.

In contrast, she finds inspiration in Myanmar’s civil society and diaspora, whose grassroots response has saved lives despite immense hardship. She urges international donors to bypass the military and support trusted, local actors: “They open up their hearts, their purse, and [are] doing it again.”

Episode #329: “How could this happen now?! I mean, are we part of the problem allowing Burma to slip to that ‘ninth layer of hell?’”

These anguished words from longtime USAID official Chris Milligan reflect his heartbreak over the U.S. failure to adequately respond to Myanmar’s devastating 7.7 magnitude earthquake. Milligan, who helped reopen USAID’s Myanmar mission in 2012, recalls building it from scratch as part of a broader U.S. strategy to support democratic and economic reforms without legitimizing the military regime.

Regarding the landscape of development aid for Burma, he explains it is “a land of good intentions with unintended consequences," where uninformed international aid could easily do more harm than good. Still, his years there were deeply fulfilling. He saw rapid progress and strong partnerships, though he regrets being unable to help resolve the humanitarian crisis in Rakhine State.

Milligan underscores USAID’s value—not just abroad, but at home—calling it essential for American interests, stability, trade, and global influence. He contrasts the U.S. model of development with China’s state-centric approach, warning that American withdrawal leaves a dangerous vacuum. So he bemoans the Trump administration ‘s dismantling the core of the agency. USAID once led major disaster responses, but due to those massive program cuts, its Myanmar earthquake response resulted in snding just three people and $2 million. He fears that unless the U.S. re-engages, the long-term consequences will be dire.

Milligan looks back very fondly on his time in the country, especially the warmth and generosity of its people. “That’s why it was also inspiring,” he says. “It made you want to work harder to support them… because they saw a brighter future for themselves, and you wanted to help them get there.”

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Episode #328: In the aftermath of Myanmar’s devastating earthquake, Htuu Lou Rae paints a grim picture of systemic neglect and discrimination faced by the country’s Muslim community. The disaster struck during ‘Eid al-Fitr, the holiest day of Ramadan, when mosques were packed with worshipers. Tragically, many of these mosques—centuries old—collapsed due to decades of state-imposed bans on their repair. Rae highlights how successive regimes denied routine maintenance of these religious sites, effectively turning them into death traps.

Beyond the earthquake’s physical toll, Htuu Lou Rae describes a deeper, ongoing crisis: institutional and social discrimination that continued through the rescue phase. He reports that junta-led efforts largely ignored Muslim victims, and even civil society-led aid responses may be compromised by lingering anti-Muslim sentiment. Online abuse and discriminatory denial of housing further underscore the community’s marginalization.

Htuu Lou Rae also warns against the junta's cynical manipulation of Muslim suffering to attract international aid—particularly from Muslim-majority countries like Pakistan—while hoarding resources for its own benefit. He advocates bypassing both the junta and the National Unity Government (NUG), calling instead for aid to flow through trusted organizations like USAID and Muslim-led civil society groups. Despite the bleakness,

Yet Htuu Lou Rae sees a silver lining amid all the challenges. He has observed growing public solidarity across ethnic and religious lines, and envisions a coordinated, independent relief mechanism to address the crisis effectively. “Doesn’t that make more sense and isn’t [it] also going to, at the same time, help the country recover from this multi-layered humanitarian crisis?”