Moe Pwint Oo shoots the grimy punchbag a steely glance before slamming her fist into it, striking a blow for equality as she practises Myanmar’s homespun martial art Lethwei, a sport that encourages headbutting and grants victory by knockout only.
The petite medical sciences student is one of a growing number of women taking up Lethwei kick-boxing, building up a sweat in the yard of a gritty Yangon gym where some of the country’s best fighters train alongside local enthusiasts, expats and even the occasional actress.
“I think Lethwei is becoming really popular here because I see a lot of my friends here as well,” says Pwint Oo, as a woman from Japan practises spin kicks in a makeshift ring behind her. “But I am here to box, not to socialise.”
Lethwei fighters say their sport is the toughest member of South East Asia’s kick-boxing family, leaving Thailand’s more famous Muay Thai in the blood-flecked dust thanks to its disdain for gloves and use of skull-cracking headbutts.
To win a Lethwei fight you must batter your opponent unconscious, or to the point where they surrender. If no one gets knocked out during five three-minute rounds, the match ends in a draw.
It is perhaps little wonder that few women traditionally enter the ring in Myanmar, where gender norms favour demure damsels over fearsome fighters.
But that has begun to change in recent years as these gender roles shift, spurred on by the country opening up to the world after decades of isolating military rule.
Opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi is the most famous of a growing number of female politicians, while an impressive roster of successful businesswomen is taking advantage of the most buoyant economic outlook in decades.
About half of the regulars at the Thut Ti (Courage) gym are women, drawn to the intensity of the fitness level and authenticity of skill required in Lethwei.
“It’s really nice to have somebody like you here, because it’s like a guys’ place,” says Pwint Oo, gesturing at knuckles strapped with red surgical tape.
Having spent years outside her homeland, formerly known as Burma, she says she “wanted to do something very traditional, very Burmese” during her summer break from studying at Aberdeen University in Scotland.
Lethwei has an ancient history in Myanmar.
Carvings on the temples of Bagan, which dot the central Myanmar plains, appear to show pairs of men locked in combat, suggesting the sport is more than a thousand years old, says Win Zin Oo, founder of the Thut Ti gym, who is also a former vice president of the Myanmar Lethwei Federation.
In modern times it was kept alive in the eastern border states of Karen and Mon, where kick-boxing bouts are held to mark everything from monks’ funerals to New Year festivities.
Spectators in front-row seats are close enough to hear bones shatter and be sporadically spattered with blood, sweat and spittle.
Yet the tournaments are seen as family affairs – and many include bouts featuring boys as young as 10.
Zin Oo concedes that the bare-knuckle fighting style is “robust”.
“All components of the body can be used as weapons: punches, knee strikes, elbow beats, headbutts, you can throw [your opponent] ... If you want to compete in the real Lethwei ring as a professional, you must be really tough,” he says.
He normally advises enthusiasts not to attempt a fight.
For those who do, endurance is as important as aggression.
Lethwei boxer Tha Pyay Nyo, who has a formidable record of more than 150 matches and only one defeat, gave up farming in his native Karen state to take up the sport professionally because “I might be famous one day”.
The 25-year-old recently branched out into mixed martial arts, or “cage fighting”, competing in his debut international tournament as part of the first ONE Championship event in Myanmar.
The televised tournament was a chance to showcase some of the fighting spirit of a national sport that has languished in the shadow of its better-known Thai cousin.
“I want the world to know our courage through Myanmar traditional boxing,” he said before the match.
Zin Oo hopes Myanmar will borrow from the success of its Thai neighbours in promoting its own kick-boxing brand.
His gym is increasingly popular and about half of all those training there are women, including models, singers and actresses.
He said there was some “sensitivity” about how women should be treated, but insisted the gym does not discriminate.
“Some [women] students, they are really, really good, even in terms of decisiveness, I think. So it’s a little unfair [to say] ‘oh women are weak, men are strong’,” he says.
When she returns to Scotland, Pwint Oo will have to make do with Muay Thai, in which headbutts are banned and protective clothing is worn, to continue training.
But she says she is hooked on Myanmar’s more fearsome version.
“It makes you fit, it’s traditional and then, you know, it’s very empowering – especially for women,” she says.
