Temples are great, but my most gratifying experiences involve contacts with local people. I came across these two women while biking around for a second day in Bagan.
I stopped, curious to know what they were gathering in the fields. Even though it's an archeological zone, people still grow crops here in the harsh landscape.
After watching them work for awhile, I wanted to snap a picture, but I feared offending them or, worse, exploiting the women, so I humbly walked up, said hello, and pantomimed taking a photo. They both smiled, so I snapped a couple of shots of them working.
Because I interrupted their labor, I felt it appropriate to offer them some money. The younger woman seemed pleased and showed me her crop - peanuts. The elder woman then opened up a small jar full of roasted peanuts covered with some sort of oil. She motioned for me to try them and afterward gave me a small piece of candy.
This photo is an shot of our impromptu snack.
By the way, upon hearing my home country, both women responded, "Obama."
The pagodas here are more than just tourist attractions. Buddhists actively use them for meditation.
It's high season in Myanmar, but it doesn't take long to find oneself alone.
As the day wore on, I rushed toward a temple I'd visited earlier to climb to the top to watch the sunset, but technology stood in the way. My bike's battery was running out quickly, even though I had a quarter of the way remaining to the temple. The wise decision would have been to turn back to avoid getting stranded in the middle of nowhere, but how often does one get to view a sunset from the top of a 14th century pagoda.
I pushed forward, hoping the owner of the bike shop meant it when he said he'd bring me a new battery if mine ran down. I rolled up to my destination, just as the battery appeared to die.
I climbed to the top but thought it best to call the shop in advance, which would have been a great idea if I had a phone. I could already see the headline, "American tourist devored by wolves after foolishly pushing his electric bike to the limit." Once again, the universe responded.
I spotted a tour bus driver and pantomimed my plight with an imaginary set of handlebars and a "vroom, vroom" in ever decreasing intensity.
The man laughed, acknowledging he understood and called the shop with his cell phone. Fortunately, he also knew the name of the pagoda because I certainly had no idea.
The driver handed me the phone, and I explained my delimma. "No problem," the business owner said. I told him I'd catch up with him after dark.
Twenty minutes later, he delivered a new bike, and I headed back to town, which I learned isn't a great idea because the roads are horrible and Bagan doesn't have any street lights. Live and learn. At least, I saw my sunset.
I spent my evening with the Hawaiian couple and packed for my return to Yangon, where a Couchsurfer host was waiting. There's only one problem - Couchsurfing is illegal in Myanmar.
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