[Or that time I played my Brazilian card]
I enter the elevator on the 6th floor.
Two floors down it stops. A Burmese man wearing a tie enters.
I noticed the tie because it’s not something I see around Yangon. A businessman or a lawyer. Or just someone who likes to wear ties.
He looks at me and says hello.
I’m wearing a summer outfit, ready for one more day exploring the city on foot.
He mentions the heat outside and I agree with a head gesture.
Then he says “You know, the heat is your fault. Developed countries’ fault.”
I smile and in a fraction of second think of something to say.
“Actually I’m from Brazil. So it’s not my fault.”
“Oh, Brazil! Then you’re nice.”
The door opens. We have reached the ground floor.
He leaves after me and we take different directions once we get to the street.
The only thing I could think of was “Oh wow! I finally played my Brazilian card!”
And smiled the whole day despite the scalding sun.