Celebrating Miss Pyit Tine Htaung's Journey: A Story of Resilience and Hope for World Refugee Day

Miss Pyit Tine Htaung, in Mae Sot, a city in Thailand on the border of Myanmar, looks out towards her home country in the distance.

On the morning of February 1, 2021, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung* woke to her grandmother’s frantic voice. "The military has taken over," she said. Miss Pyit Tine Htaung, a recent university graduate in Myanmar, dismissed it at first. Such rumors were commonplace, but the news was disturbingly real this time. By midday, phone lines were severed, the internet had gone dark, and the only television channel broadcasting was under military control.

*Miss PyitTineHtaung is a pseudonym. PyitTineHtaung is a traditional Burmese roly-poly doll that, no matter how you tip it, will return to an upright position. These dolls are now a symbol of the political resistance movement against the military rule of the country.

Her life, once filled with the typical concerns of a young adult—schoolwork, friends, and spontaneous adventures—was upended. Just two days prior, she and her friends had met to plan a summer vacation.

“I felt sick to my stomach when I heard it,” she says. “Our generation has been living carefree lives, so we couldn’t believe this could happen.”

Myanmar, known for its tumultuous political landscape, had seen military juntas before. Yet, for Miss Pyit Tine Htaung's generation, the coup was a shocking regression. Born into a time of relative peace and burgeoning democracy, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung had enjoyed a typical university life. She graduated in 2019 and had plans for a master’s degree, but the COVID-19 pandemic brought everything to a halt. Then came the coup.

In the days following the takeover, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung joined countless others in the streets, participating in the civil disobedience movement. The initial protests were peaceful. Doctors refused to work, teachers and students boycotted schools, and government employees left their jobs. The hope was to paralyze the system and draw international attention.

But the junta responded with violence. Protests that started with chants and banners turned into scenes of chaos and bloodshed. Curfews were imposed, gatherings were banned, and anyone suspected of opposing the regime was at risk of arrest—or worse. The military’s crackdown was ruthless, targeting young people and political activists with lethal force. 

A protest displaying the Burmese toy, Pyit Tine Htaung, a symbol of resistance against the Military Junta.

Miss Pyit Tine Htaung’s life became a series of evasive maneuvers, constantly moving to avoid detection. Living out of a suitcase, she moved from one relative's house to another, always a step ahead of the authorities thanks to the tight-knit community that warned them of impending raids. Each night brought a new wave of anxiety, the fear of arrest mingling with the guilt of burdening her relatives.

“I just wanted to get caught,” she says. “I couldn’t hide anymore.”

Then her mother, a former politician, fell gravely ill. She needed urgent surgery, and the family was forced to stay in a hospital under fake identities. After the operation, they had to move again, living like fugitives in their own country. The third wave of COVID-19 added another layer of terror, with the military restricting access to medical supplies and oxygen.

With her mother’s condition deteriorating, and the fear of arrest growing, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung and her family made the impossible decision to leave everything behind, and to flee to Thailand.

“The act of trying to escape was so painful and regretful, and yet we had no choice,” she says. “Every time you see the news about someone getting arrested or being killed, the thought of surviving alone when others are getting killed makes you feel guilty in every possible way.”

On the way to Thailand, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung and her family feigned illness to avoid scrutiny at each military checkpoint, a risky gambit that miraculously paid off. But things did not get easier in Thailand. Living as undocumented refugees, they were at the mercy of local authorities who extorted them for money, threatening deportation at every turn.

Then, in 2022, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung and her family were approved for resettlement to the U.S. However, the miraculous news was overshadowed by her mother’s deteriorating condition. Without legal status or access to adequate healthcare, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung felt powerless. And while they’d been approved for resettlement, there hadn’t been word of when they’d actually be able to leave for the U.S. Miss Pyit Tine Htaung sent hundreds of emails to the U.S. embassy, pleading for help. After almost 2 years of waiting, and pleading, they were resettled in the U.S.

Arriving in the U.S. marked a new beginning for Miss Pyit Tine Htaung and her family. Here, Miss Pyit Tine Htaung could finally help her mother get appropriate medical treatment.

In anticipation of the family’s arrival, a cohort of HHR volunteers from Christ Church of Bronxville was trained and received a cultural orientation to Myanmar. In January 2024, the volunteers welcomed the family to Westchester, furnishing an apartment, meeting them at the airport and arranging a welcome meal of familiar Asian food. In the following months, Hearts & Homes for Refugees played a crucial role in their adjustment, offering support and a sense of belonging.

This included working together to identify suitable doctors, and shuttling Miss Pyit Tine Htaung’s mother to and from appointments. The volunteers also helped Miss Pyit Tine Htaung and her sister to find jobs, and are working with the sisters and their dad to get drivers licenses. Miss Pyit Tine Htaung made new friends and started to explore her new surroundings, including a memorable trip to the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C.

“After experiencing all of this, I have learned to appreciate the small things in life,” says Miss Pyit Tine Htaung. “Life won’t be easy, and in my case, it is still very challenging, but that’s okay because life is meant to be this way. We just have to learn to appreciate what we have now.”