“I love my wife so much. She is not my wife. She is my wife, and my life.  She cooks the curry, and I eat the curry.” Such simple words, but these were the words I most remember Tinmyint, a taxi driver in Yangon, Myanmar speaking to me. He mentioned his wife several times during our time together, and I couldn’t help but think of how few men praised their wives to perfect strangers. We had met under unusual circumstances, Tinmyint and me. I had suffered a long night of food poisoning. The conditions in most of Myanmar are less than sanitary. I had been warned before coming, and had…