Friday, December 12, 2014

A Reawakening in Myanmar (Burma) - Day 1 Yangon



For almost half a century, a brutal military regime ruled Myanmar (Burma)* with absolute power, crushing all dissent, often using bullets, and shutting off the country from the rest of the world.  After elections in 2010, a civilian government took power and the aspiring democracy began reopening. International businesses and tourists soon followed.

Although Myanmar has undergone a series of political and economic reforms, many critics say the military is still largely in control behind the scenes, and the country continues to be plagued by allegations of human rights abuses.

Last summer, I considered visiting Myanmar during my trip to Southeast Asia but ran short of time. Now that I live in Singapore, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to see for myself a country that for decades was inaccessible to most travelers.

Landing in Yangon, the nation's biggest city and former capital, I had no idea I was about to experience one of my most enjoyable days ever of traveling.

I try to utilize mass transit as often as possible. It's cheap. It's a great way to meet local people, and a great way to get a glimpse of an important aspect of their daily lives.

I'd read that Yangon buses can be a bit tricky to navigate, especially since everything is written in the Burmese alphabet, and most drivers don't speak English. Still, I wanted to try.

As I searched for the bus stop, I walked up to a man for assistance, debuting my Burmese expression for "hello." He smiled appreciatively, as I pulled out a piece of paper with the address for my hotel.

The gentleman scanned the details, looked up at me, and said it was near his parents' home. As luck would have it, he was headed that way.

We crammed into the bus, a rickety relic from the last century whose engine died each time we idled at a traffic light. My host insisted on paying my fair, despite my protests. "Welcome to Myanmar," he said in his limited English. Later, I handed him cash to pay for our transfer to another bus.

At first, he accepted with a smile, but a few seconds later, he handed back the money, saying, "I help you all the way." All I could do was respond with my only other Burmese expression, "thank you," an expression I found myself using throughout the day.

Traffic is notoriously heavy in Yangon, which it why it took over an hour to travel the 10 miles from the airport. Finally, we arrived. My guardian angel walked me to my hotel, gave me a hearty handshake, and was gone, but won't soon be forgotten.

After checking in, I wanted to find a place to eat and then head to Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar's most sacred Buddhist shrine and Yangon's most popular tourist attraction. My plans quickly became derailed by another chance meeting. In travel, like life, I believe one needs to be willing to flow with what the universe offers.

Some tourists say Yangon is just a big city, but I loved the electric vibe of the swarm of humanity and the sidewalk merchants.



Here a man was selling sugar cane juice using an old manual press. Note the longyi (sarong) he's wearing. Jeans haven't taken over here yet.

Walking around the neighborhood, I spotted a dining possibility, but as I approached the establishment, a man waved at me from inside another eatery. Fate had arranged my lunch and my afternoon.

The man spoke little English, but I managed to understand the main ideas. I sat down, and he suggested I try the local beer. One beer led to another, which led to a plate of delicious chicken. After several minutes, the man left. I assumed it was for good, but he later reappeared with his wife to introduce her to me. She also spoke little English, but it didn't seem to matter. That's the magic of travel.

When I finished, the man insisted on paying. We argued about it, but I realized, like with my friend on the bus, I couldn't refuse the overwhelming kindness of the Burmese.

Our day together wasn't over. Next, he took me to his sidewalk business, a small printing shop with a lone computer and copy machine. We enjoyed many more beverages on tables placed in front of the shop, maybe, too many beverages, but what could I do since it was a cultural encounter.



After about an hour, his wife left the shop. The man motioned for me to follow. You might be able to predict what happened next.

He lead me several blocks - after stopping to purchase another beverage - to a tenement building where he lived. I'm sure the guide books wouldn't suggest going to the home of a stranger, but sometimes you've got to trust your instincts. My instincts told me to follow. We climbed the five flights of stairs to his apartment, a simple but comfortable, sparsely-furnished 3-room dwelling.

Inside, his entire family was waiting - two sisters, his mother, grandmother, two nieces, and his seven-year-old daughter, who he bragged about all afternoon. Here is a shot of her exhibiting her musical talents.


After awhile, everyone left except his wife and daughter, who I tutored in English. The parents beamed with pride each time the precocious girl identified an object I pointed to in her school books. The afternoon stretched into evening. I didn't want to wear out my welcome, so finally I left, after receiving hugs from everyone.

Friends often ask me how it's possible to journey to distant lands not understanding the language or the culture. I tell them the universe normally responds IF we'll take the leap into the unknown.

Eventually, I did make it to the Shwedagon Paya (pagoda), a stunning sight because,  fortunately, the shrine stays open until 10 p.m.  The structure was built between the 6th and 10th century, but Myanmar is prone to earthquakes, so the current pagoda dates back to 1769.


The main pagoda is covered with gold, not gold leaf, but sheets of gold. Hundreds of diamonds encircle the top of the structure.

Buddhists come from all over the country to meditate here, as you can see with this monk.



However, the beauty didn't come close to equaling the pleasure of my random encounters with my new friends.


Next stop ... Bagan.

* Note: In 1989, the military junta changed the name of the country from Burma to Myanmar. Many ethnic and political groups - including the governments of England and the United States – still refuse to accept the military's action and continue to refer to the country as Burma. The UN does recognize the name Myanmar.

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