Initially, I was convinced that there was a nationwide dental crisis in Burma. People everywhere, men and women, had deeply stained reddish-brown teeth with gums so ostensibly diseased that even the lips and chin suffered discoloration. Unable to ignore this any longer, I inquired about the epidemic and was subsequently school on the revolting art of chewing betel nut.

Betel nut chewing is a wildly popular Burmese habit, with all the outward appeal of chewing tobacco (but messier), having the general effect of a cup of coffee. The exact origins of this appetite killing habit are in question, but in places like India, it's been nauseating visitors for thousands of years. I located one vague mention of betel nut in a Burmese book indicating that it's been in vogue locally from royalty on down for at least 150 years.

My first day in Yangon was draining. Interminable walking in dusty 102 degree heat and humoring enthusiastic English speakers every few minutes can sap the most tolerant of Beckham look-a-likes. By nightfall, I longed for my guesthouse bed and sweet, sweet air-con.

As I made my way to my guesthouse, it became clear that parts of Yangon were suffering from a blackout. Street and traffic lights were out and all buildings were dark. The only light available came from passing cars, candles at food stalls and the occasional generator powered light in front of a shop or home. I was forced to slow my pace so I could cautiously judge whether or not I was about to step in an open ditch or on the tail of a stray animal.

Visibility briefly improved outside an unmarked, walled and barb-wired compound. Strangely, the street lights here were working. I stepped around a huge barrier on the corner of the block and up onto an abnormally pristine sidewalk. I marched along with the whole sidewalk to myself for almost half a block before a woman pleaded for me to step back down into the street. It turned out I was walking past the ministry's compound and they do not allow people to walk on the sidewalk outside the walls. Yangon's best maintained sidewalk is off-limits to pedestrians. That's just so military junta, isn't it?

"Hello Beckham!!!"

I smiled and waved. I was a star. Really, the only thing you need to do to be the most popular guy in any Burmese city is to simply be from somewhere else. I had the added advantage of having a passing resemblance to David Beckham, in that we are both Caucasian, with short, blond, fuzzy hair and devilishly good looking.

I was continually accosted by 'fans' just wanting to shoot the proverbial shit. However, limited feces can be discharged when you and your new acquaintance only share a handful of common words and phrases. For the entirety of my time in Myanmar, I had the following verbatim conversation about 137 times a day:

Local: "Hello!"
Me: "Hello!"
Local: "Where you come from?"
Me: "America."
Local: "Ah! Very good country! Goodbye!"

The people who had a larger command of English nearly always inquired and then showed great concern upon hearing that I wasn't married at my age. Usually the language barrier prevented me from explaining that I had already been to that particular ring of Hell and back and could only recently talk about it without my eye twitching, my jaw clenching and my wallet bursting into flames.

Gallery: Burma

After weeks of sweating the complexities of money in Burma, it turned out to be pretty straightforward. Formerly, travelers had to juggle three currencies to get by.

To start, one needed kyat (pronounced 'chat'), Burma's everyday currency, to buy food, pay for some, but not all, transportation and to purchase souvenirs. One must be judicious when acquiring kyat. With Myanmar's position as a naughty sanctioned nation, the rest of the world does not recognize this currency, so if you don't spend it, it becomes a worthless souvenir as soon as you leave the country.

One also needed a stack of US dollars which served as a general fall-back currency, used to pay for hotel rooms, domestic plane tickets and industrious tourist touts.

Finally, there were FECs (Foreign Exchange Certificates), a kind of pretend currency invented by the government for the sole purpose of padding their pockets with tourist cash without actually having to do anything.

Gallery: Burma

Bringing up travel in Burma (Myanmar) in certain social circles has ruined many perfectly good cocktail parties. I'm talking raised voices, spilled drinks, mangled Twister mats, and even fisticuffs with multiple players. (At what stage can you call it a 'melee'? Cuz I live to use that word in casual conversation. Melee. Heh.)

The recent uprising, the strongest anti-government demonstrations since 1988, briefly sparked new hope that Burma's hateful leaders would finally be bounced out of power. After a stirring week of unthinkable marches and defiance, the government finally broke its silence and retorted with beatings, arrests and killings.

At the time of writing, the protests were stamped out, reducing the nation to its usual simmering discontent. The ensuing political condemnation from around the world has forced the military junta to concede to 'conditional talks' with Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the National League for Democracy, though this agreement is widely thought to be a delaying tactic that will be annulled as soon as the international microscope moves its focus elsewhere.