Yangon, Myanmar (Burma)

Although we have had our flight booked since August, less than a week ago, we were not sure if we were even going to be able to make it to Myanmar. It is no secret that Jen and I like to find challenging places to visit. It's not like we have planned to be travel rebels, it has just sort of worked out that way! Our original plan was to visit London during October holiday, but when flights were more expensive than going to the States, we changed our minds… Second option: Myanmar. Why? Why not, really? Neither of us have ever visited. The country has only just opened its doors to foreign tourists after many years of isolations during a cultural revolution. Mostly, I wanted to visit because it is unknown. You may think the unknown is scary, I think of it as an opportunity to learn more about a country, its people and a little bit of their ancient history. 

So we had a little bit of trouble getting our visas… In reality, it was no trouble at all, but a lot of confusion. Every online resource gave us different information for how to obtain our visa - in person, by mail, online or upon arrival. Not to mention that the information was changing daily because of government challenges within the country. Although there were many sources that told us we were unable to obtain a visa upon arrival, we found an online application that would process the acceptance letter for the visa upon arrival. Less than one week away from our trip, we decided to give it a shot (it was better than just giving up). On Wednesday evening, we received our acceptance letter. During our layover in Kunming, some of the customs people were a little bit confused by our paperwork, but we made it through and Saturday morning, we were en route to Yangon, Myanmar. When we arrived, we went straight to the booth marked "Visa on Arrival" where our application paperwork was already waiting for us. Just a couple minutes, our passports were stamped and we were good to go.

Myanmar, formally known as Burma, formally known as Myanmar (as Uncle Kiang told us - but I'll get to that later) is in South East Asia nestled between China, Thailand, Laos and India. Once a British settlement, the decrepit capital city of Yangon, formally known as Rangoon, still bares resemblance to a once remarkable colony, and the surrounding countries have played a significant role in the history, culture and food. We were lucky enough to visit during Monsoon season so the weather forecast was hot, humid and rainy all day, every day. 

When we first arrived in Yangon, we were picked up and taken straight to our hotel - the Inle Valley Bed & Breakfast. It was a last minute, Friday night booking. It was cute, quant and quiet, but very far our from the city center. When we told the man at the hotel that we were going to walk downtown to get food, he laughed at us like we were crazy. After a thirty-minute taxi ride, we understood why he was laughing. Our first taxi ride pretty much took us driving around the whole city; down streets with big houses, up a lanes with tiny markets, through the slums of decaying apartment building and families sleeping on the streets. Children came up to our window begging for money or selling strings of flowers. Dogs ran the streets like they owed the place, and men walked around in skirts, called longyi. When we were dropped off, we walked until we found the perfect restaurant. It didn't take long for Jen to discover that being a vegetarian in a country that spoke very little English was going to be very difficult, but the food was decent enough. It was dark by the time we finished up with dinner and we were very unsure of our surroundings so we headed straight back to the hotel. 

My first impression of Yangon: It was hot, humid and dirty. I felt a little bit squeamish, like I didn't want to touch anything. Every looked very dirty, smelled a mixture of sweltering body odor, sewage and garbage. Sidewalks were a combination of mud, garbage and torn up sidewalk cement. There was also a canal between the "sidewalk" and the entrances to the shops and restaurants (part of the drainage system or sewer?), so we had to jump across or walk a plank. It was also very busy. There were people walking everywhere, tons of cars, street vendors and people just hanging around outside. On a positive note, the people were so friendly and hospitable. Unlike the rest of SE Asia, it is not over populated with tourists, so we were stared at everywhere we went - of course Jen with her blonde hair and big boobs. In China, we get stared at all the time, but it is a very different "in your face, dead stare, nosy" kind of stare. When Burmese people looked at us, they smiled with kind eyes and said, "Hello". They were curious, but genuine and very sweet. Although we were uncomfortable being out at night, the people certainly did not make us feel uncomfortable and we did not feel like our safety was in jeopardy, but we played it safe anyway (for my mom). 

Day two brought all sorts of experiences. We left our hotel first thing in search of booking a bus to our next destination. We only wanted to stay in Yangon for a couple days before traveling into the villages more. After our bus was booked for Monday evening, we set out to walk the streets of downtown. The buildings were old, moldy, and near tumbling over, but full of character and unique beauty. Along rows of tiny lanes were street food vendors, one after the next. Apartment building piled on top. We just walked around taking pictures, interacting with the locals when they smiled and initiated a kind, "Hello". When the afternoon rain began to roll in, we made our way to the Strand Hotel - a famous spot in Yangon - for brunch. I tried their fermented tea leaf salad (a favorite of mine) and found it to be not as good as the salad at Lost Heaven in Shanghai (but I'll keep trying). 

When the rain finally let up, we made our way to the local market to do a little shopping. Although we were unimpressed with the market and didn't buy anything, that was where we met Uncle Kiang. As we strolled along minding our own business, an old Burmese man walked up to us wearing a longyi and a grey bun on the top of his head and asked, "Hello, where are you from?" When we told him we were from America, he pulled out his beloved notebook and began to show us letters from friends he had made along his travels. He spoke English very well (the best we had heard), and he told us that he was a teacher. He taught foreigners Burmese and taught locals to speak English. Additionally, he was a tour guide in the city and offered a unique experience of seeing the "other side" of Yangon through a local's eyes and many stories. I was skeptical as I always am with tours, but he offered us a very cheap price, and he was such an interesting character that we decided to give him a chance. 

After a nap and a shower, Uncle K took us to the Shwedagon Pagoda (or the Shw-agoda, as I liked to call it) in town. He had so much information, tons of stories to share and so many things that he wanted to teach us about Buddhist culture. It was interesting but a bit overwhelming. He told us the history of the three Buddhas and the fourth that is coming - things I will never remember. He also told us the history of the Pagoda, more information I will never remember. I do remember that it was built in the 18th century as a Buddhist symbol of worship. 326 feet built in layers of gold, silver, bronze, lead, iron and brick, then lead plates and 1 square feet plates of gold screwed together. There is nothing on the inside of the Pagoda, but the center masterpiece of acres of smaller temples, pagodas and shrines for Buddha.

Like Astrology, Myanmar Buddhists use the day of birth to characterize personalities with a symbolic animal, planet and Buddha. Since I was born on a Wednesday afternoon, my Buddha is the first Buddha, Kawnagmana. My planet is Rahu (a planet in Myanmar astrology, but Mercury in Western astrology). My animal is the mighty tusk-less elephant with a robust character. Because the elephant has no tusks, he has a powerful big body, strong trunk, and extreme character. One would not want to make the tusk-less elephant angry. Interesting fact: Myanmar astrology has 8 days because Wednesday is the only day divided in half, which they call Wednesday morning and afternoon.

Uncle K took us to our perspective Buddha and taught us how to pray by pouring one cup on Buddha for each year of our life, plus one extra cup for longevity. Then we poured five cups on our animal: one for Buddha, one for his teachings, one for my day of birth, one for my parents and one for my teachers. Although I found it all to be interesting, I also left very uncomfortable. In case you did not know, I am not Buddhist, and I felt as though I was being disrespectful partaking in these sacred practices while Uncle K told Jen to take pictures. At one point, he told me to kneel down in front of Buddha in the middle of a group of people (who were really praying) so that he could take my picture. I told him that I felt uncomfortable, but he nearly pushed me to the ground and I posed quickly to get it over with. Two hours spent at the Pagoda listening to all of his stories and we were beyond ready to call it a night and get some dinner. Uncle K insisted on a local restaurant at Happy World across the street from the Pagoda. It was a decent enough meal, but Chinese style fried rice and saucy fried vegetables. 

The next morning, we had made plans to meet Uncle K at his apartment for a short morning tour. Although I was feeling a little bit apprehensive after his pushiness at the Pagoda, I was willing to give him another shot. He told us that he wanted to take us to a local medicine man, and to see a couple other sights in town. When we got to his apartment, he was still teaching a small class of four students English. They were excited to talk to us, and he encouraged them to speak with us and ask us questions. When the lesson was complete, one of the teenage girls invited us over to her home for tea so that she could speak with us more. Unfortunately, we did not have much time and we already had our morning planned with Uncle K, but the offer was very kind. She asked us the next time that we visited Yangon, we would visit her home.

The medicine man was not exactly what we had expected. Uncle K had so much information that he wanted to share with us and so many stories that he wanted to tell, but I was getting frustrated. Instead of letting us wondering around looking at the photos and shrines, reading the newspaper articles on the wall, and gather information and asking questions, Uncle wanted to tell us stories about every picture and convince us of the Shaman's spiritual powers with accounts of his healing incurable deceases of people from all over the world. Again, I am not Buddhist, nor do I exactly believe in spiritual healing nor shaman practices with special powers or alchemy. I can respect their beliefs, and it is interesting to learn about it, but I do not want anyone trying to convince me or make me believe in it. After nearly an hour of listening to his stories, I could not listen anymore…

Then, we sat down with the shaman, Dr. U Shein for tea and snacks and Uncle K translated more of his stories and accounts of healing. The doctor insisted on arm wrestling Jen to show how strong he is - he did beat her even though he is 87 years old. Then he showed us his "spiritual powers" as he waved his "magical" hands in front of one of his "disciples" to bring out the spirits and she began to grunt and make noises. He waved his hands in front of us and claimed that there were not spirits living in us because we did not convulse and grunt. Then, he rubbed hands with Jen telling her that he was temporarily giving her the spiritual power, so when she put her hand in front of the girl, she began the same grunting noises. For his final trick, he lay each of us down and poked us with a special alchemist stone to check our health. He said he was checking our heart and lungs, but was mostly just jabbing our boobs with a stone. He concluded that we were very healthy because had we not been healthy, we would have screamed out in pain. We may not have any spirits inside of us, but at least we were healthy! Before leaving, he gave us some parting gifts, asked to take a picture with us and we paid our respects with a prayer while we gave us a blessing. 

Uncle K took us to a traditional Myanmar style restaurant that he called "very nice and expensive". I had read about the canteen style restaurants and I had wanted to try, but I certainly will not be eating it again. In Malaysia, they had a similar set up with many dished lined up. You pick what you want from the pre-made dishes and they bring you a plate. In Malaysia it was delicious. In Myanmar, it was not. As soon as we walked in to the restaurant, there was nothing appealing about the smell nor look of meats and veggies that had been sitting out all day. We gave it a shot anyway and decided on a couple veggies and rice (safe?), but it was rather disappointing. I choked down a little bit of it, as I felt bad wasting food or turning my nose up to it, but our discontent for the meal was not unnoticed, and Uncle K felt bad for his choice. 

After the meal, it was still monsooning outside, as it had been all morning, and we decided that we did not want to do anymore site seeing, so we finished up our time with Uncle K and parted ways. Jen and I went back to our hotel and eventually got some other food and got ready for the next phase of our journey... but ride to Inle Lake.