As was the customary way of commuting in Myanmar, upon our arrival at the bus terminal, we boarded a Japanese pickup truck they called a "lain-ka" (line car) that would deliver us to our respective hotels and hostels. Having already found my seat in the spacious twelve-seater back of the truck along with four other Western travelers, the driver pointed a finger at me and recited aloud, "You will be the first." I reckoned Hotel by the Red Canal—my accommodation in Mandalay—would be the first destination along the route. I nodded my head as I looked forward to taking a short rest before meeting in person a Filipina expat I had met through Tinder.