As my plane started to make its final approach, I could see the rice paddies come into focus from beneath the clouds. Far different was this view from the one I had experienced leaving Bangkok just over an hour earlier. From a city filled with millions of people, snarled traffic, towering skyscrapers and pollution to rival all cities in the world, this was a view to be cherished. I had finally landed in Myanmar.

For much of my late twenties I have dreamed of traveling to Myanmar. Aborted plans, visa delays, time constraints and dwindling budgets had kept me from making this crossing. After trying so desperately to make this trip a reality, it almost seemed like my sacred pilgrimage. It was a place that had eluded me not only for the above grounds, but also political reasons as well.

As a military dictatorship, Myanmar, still known as Burma to much of the western world, has been isolated from growth and prosperity that typically accompanies open democracies and free market economies. In 1990, Myanmar allowed its first free elections in over 30 years. When pro-democracy party members won an overwhelming number of seats in government the military junta refused to relinquish power and instead imprisoned much of the opposition leaders. The charismatic woman at the heart of the National League for Democracy was Aung San Suu Kyi. For much of the past 14 years she has been placed under house arrest by the ruling military regime. Despite her restrictions, she has been awarded several international awards for her fight for democracy, including the 1991 Nobel Peace Prize.

Ang San Suu Kyi has advocated boycotting all forms of travel to the country as a means of isolating the government and forcing reform. With a tight control over the tourism industry as a means to finance government and military operations, it has been a difficult choice to make. While some argue that tourism only supports the current regime, I come from the other set of thoughts that believes that tourism will bring optimism. Travelers will bring stories from the outside world and hear stories from within. It is part of a traveler’s creed to pass on and share information with others. This policy seems to be working.

Over the past few years, a free market has developed around tourism. Many government run hotel operations have been sold to private citizens. Travel and visa restrictions have slowly followed. There are now many options to staying in government run hotels and traveling by government transport. While it is not easy to travel using this independent approach, it is possible. It’s also one of the last places in SE Asia that maintains a sense of cultural identity, untarnished by the exports of American movies and fast food lifestyles.

I don’t expect my travels to Myanmar to change the country over night. But perhaps I can bring a few Burmese people a greater sense of hope. If they see that an American is willing to travel over 24 hours to visit their country, they may have an expanded sense of pride. Perhaps I will return to America and my conversations of the beautiful countryside and friendly people will entice others to seek out this adventure themselves. Maybe it helps to have the knowledge that Myanmar immigration officials were more interested in my mosquito coils than my laptop and cameras.

For each individual the choice to go or not to go is one that they have to answer themselves. For myself, seeing silt lined canals, dirt roads and rice fields from a few thousand feet in the air was all I needed to confirm my feelings. I needed Myanmar as much as Myanmar needed me.