Botataung Pagoda

The walls are all gold leaf

One of the many corners of the 

Pagoda -- it's almost like a maze

Turtles in a pond at the pagoda.

Down by the riverside.

3,000 of these are up for Chinese New Year

(there is a China town).  They've never

been allowed before this year.

No Shweat

Our last activity for the first day as a group was to go at 4pm for the sunset time at Shwedagon Pagoda, which is one of the most impressive places in the world.

It is the most holy of the thousands of pagodas in Myanmar, and an incredibly beautiful, and yet slightly disturbing, shrine to Buddha.

The reason I say it is slightly disturbing is that it has a bit of a Disneyland feel to it.  Don’t get me wrong – it is jaw-droppingly beautiful.  We walked around, stunned by the incredible ostentatiousness of it.  It’s also hard to believe you could have such an expensive place in a land with so much poverty (40% poverty rate).

I know I sound conflicted about it, but at the same time to me it blows away the cathedrals of the west (except maybe Gaudi’s cathedral in Barcelona – that’s still the most impressive place I have ever been).  There is no question that if you get the chance to be in Yangon, you have to go.

It took us about an hour to walk around the whole thing (you can do it much quicker, but you need to stop, stare, photograph, wander into smaller pagodas and shrines to Buddha).  The sunlight was magical on the western side of the complex, reflecting off the gold of the very large main pagoda.

There is so much to see and wonder at that words – and even pictures – don’t do it justice.  Carol was a little disappointed that Ye Ye didn’t walk us around, pointing out the different meanings of buildings and carvings, etc., but I understood why – it would have been like herding cats to keep us from wandering off, so instead he gave us 70 minutes and a meeting place to join back up.

I think in an earlier post I had mentioned how important the days of the week are in the Buddhist faith – there are “corners” for each day of the week (two for Wednesday –both morning and afternoon) at the pagoda.  We found each ours – I was born on a Friday which is represented by the guinea pig (but it’s a fierce guinea pig!  And smart too!) – no wonder Honey Passacantando liked me – and Carol was born on a Sunday, which is represented by some weird mythical creature.  (Okay, there is not much you can do to make a guinea pig more impressive – but I will be fine the rest of my life knowing I’m just a guinea pig).

At the shrines, there are Myanmarish (again, a made-up word) praying and pouring water on the small Buddha (apparently you pour one cup per year of your life, so I wouldn’t have had time for 54 cups!).  There were some tourists pouring water as well, but I’m not sure that’s appropriate (Carol felt the same way) so we did not.

I got lucky at one point, because I saw a person with a tripod and filtered lens taking pictures to the west.  I went behind him and saw what he was shooting – a shrine top with the sun behind it.

We met up as a group again and headed off to dinner.  This is a shorter blog than the pagoda deserves, mostly because I’m blown away and speechless.

Our Jaded Visit to the Tipitaka Mahagandayone Monastery

I put the name in the title of this blog post so I don’t have to write it more than once.  (Btw, it’s not like any reader will know the difference between one monastery in Myanmar and any of the many others!).

The monastery was well away from the downtown area, and with traffic, it took over an hour to get there.  The driver made one wrong turn (there’s a reason tourists are not allowed to rent cars/drive them), but it was relatively easily remedied.

I think the monks might have been slightly impatient with our slightly delayed arrival (but I don’t know that for a fact) primary because they didn’t get to eat their lunch until we got there around 10:45.  It would be their last meal of the day – monks can have breakfast and lunch, and then that’s it.  I think it has been trademarked as the “Monk Diet,” and if it hasn’t, I see a new weight loss business opportunity!

Unbeknownst to us, our group had donated the day’s lunch, which is a special occasion for the monks.  Instead of having to go door-to-door to gather food for their lunch (apparently it takes up most of the morning, and often means going to 70-80 houses, because some people give none, and many give some food – but not enough) it was provided by the Inspirato group.

So when we arrived, five of us stood in a shoulder-to-shoulder line in front of the many bowls of rice, while five of us stood to the other side to take pictures.  Carol offered to serve, while I offered to take pictures.  I had visions of me spilling rice everywhere, messing up like Lucy in the famous production line scene, but it turns out it was so easy even I could have done it fine.

The monks came single file – it seemed oldest to youngest (at least big to small, and the young novice monks came at the end of the line – they wear white).  And it was a production line – they came forward (about 300 monks total) – and stopped, five at a time, next to the server who corresponded with their place in line.

The monks opened their large bowls, and the servers dumped their smaller bowls of rice in.  Once they had their food, they headed upstairs to the cafeteria, sat down on the floor four at a time at tables.

We took off our shoes, and went upstairs to watch them eat (okay, put it that way and it sounds creepy, but it’s not like it sounds when you read what I wrote. . .unless it was and I’m just fooling myself).  We started with a blessing by the Head Monk, and three of us went over to participate in the lifting of the table.

Each table had a variety of Myanmarian (pretty sure I just made that up) food, and the monks would spoon it into their bowls.  Most used a utensil to eat (some had spoons, some had forks, and hopefully some had sporks!), whilst others used their hands.  While they were not eating chicken wings, I’m still good with it!
Over by one of the doors one monk was spooning out scoops of ice cream, whilst others were taking the full trays and bringing ice cream to the many tables – there were probably 70+ tables of four monks each.

The head monk sat on the floor in the front corner by himself.  Later, on the bus, someone asked Ye Ye how a person becomes head monk, and I almost quipped “the Electoral College,” but sensitivities being what they are these crazy days, I self-edited (yea Glen!).  Not everyone gets my sardonic humor.

We then went back outside, and walked over to another building, where they had laid out the same food at a table (mercifully there were chairs) for us.  So we tucked into the Myanmarican (again, pretty sure I just made that word up) food with varying degrees of enthusiasm (Carol is NOT an adventurous eater when it come to Southeast Asian food).

Carol does not want to become the next Julie van Voorhis, our friend who got sick in India for four days after eating at a five star restaurant.  Like many (all) people, Carol does not handle stomach problems well.

To be fair to my bride, I also eyed the food dubiously, but found most of it (not all of it!) to taste pretty good.  The texture of the food left a bit to be desired, but the taste was spot on.

After lunch, whilst the others moved over to a row of chairs for a ceremony.  (Once I can get pictures uploaded – which might not be till Australia – it will all make more sense).  I went to the bathroom, which, in barefoot, probably now qualifies as the most disgusting trip to a toilet I’ve ever had, toping some memorable ones from port-a-potties at softball tournaments (swim meets – always clean bathrooms!) and my 1984 student trip around Europe.

(Afterwards, when others went to use it, they could carry their sandals to toilet, put them on, use the facilities, come back out, and take them off again to go through the main room to outside.)

Ye Ye’s staff, who came to help and observe, sat on the floor (you sit with your feet aimed 180 degrees away from the monks/Buddha statues – the feet being the dirtiest part of the body).

Several monks, including the head monk, came in and sat on nice patterned chairs on a slightly elevated platform.  We all had ornate tea pots with cups in front of us.

The monks did several prayers/blessings (given my lack of ability in the language of Myanmar, I’m really sure what was said, but I’ll bet it was positive!).  We gave the two novice monks a gift of money to help with the monastery’s needs.  Then, there was a water pouring ceremony during a prayer, in which we slowly poured the water from the teapot into the cup.  The water represents something, but I will be darned if, two days and nine hours of sleep later, I can remember.

The head monk also had each of us come up and gifted us with a small jade bracelet-esque thing.  Ye Ye assured us it wasn’t high quality jade (because that would have made us feel guilty), and that it was meant to bring good luck and health.  I’m for both.  (Now you get the title of the blog post!)

It was very cool and somewhat voyeuristic at the same time.  All in all, I’m quite appreciate to Inspirato for setting this up, because had we been here on our own, we would not have had such an inside look at a monastery.

After the monastery, we bused back to hotel where we had three free hours.  Carol and I got a light lunch to make up for her eating very little, we then hit the pool to cool off.  The pool is an oasis in hot city – surrounded by flowering trees that make it much more beautiful than the average city hotel pool.  I ended up talking at length with Rich, while Carol chatted with his wife.  It was a nice way to relax, and then we took a short dip in the pool.

Yangon Riffs -- Volume 1

“Stay in your lane” does not mean what we think it means. . .in the city, there are no defined lanes for cars.  There may be markings on the street, but no one pays any attention to them.  Because the government recently banned motorbikes, the roads aren’t as standstill bad as cities in Vietnam or China (or so I’ve been told, not having been either place yet), but they aren’t good.

I like and despise the countdown tickers at the lights – you can see how much longer you have a red light (or green).  The problem is, it’s depressing when the ticker is over 100 seconds long!

The food here is fine.  Faithful readers will note that I’m not raving about the food like I did in Cuba.  Carol is not a food adventurous person, and she has me concerned about getting sick.  We have had Burmese food – with the most interesting food at our lunch at the monastery (more on that later).

Having billboards and signs in English is surprising – even some of the traffic signs are in English.  I keep seeing this sign with the word “Slow” on it – but it seems superfluous as we creep along.

Sad to see so much litter and pollution.  At one point we went past a small inlet that was covered in floating trash, reinforced by trash along the banks.

At the airport upon arrival, we waited with Aye Aye for the car.  Next to us were four guys smoking coffin nails.  That disappointed me, but beyond those guys, I’ve only seen a handful of people smoking, so the initial sighting was an anomaly and not a trend.

Both guides whom we have had in the two days in Yangon did not hesitate to talk politics.  They also said that, until 2010, you could be thrown in jail for political activities, which included just talking about politics.

An acre of land in Yangon sells for $20 million dollars US.  We did not look at property here.

I have a very difficult time pronouncing words – my facility for foreign language is terrible, and Myanmar pronunciations escape me (well, except for Aye Aye and Ye Ye. . .haven’t yet met a “Jar Jar”).  The good news is, the Burmese people butcher my name as well, so I don’t feel so bad!  One person called me Mr. Blogger, which is a pretty good nickname for me if you are one of my loyal readers.  I do accept the mispronunciations with grace and good humor, and have yet to correct anyone – it doesn’t really matter.

The fun part is, they don’t even try to pronounce Carol’s name – Farquhar.  They look at the name on their list, say “Carol” and then look at her beseechingly.  They must love that!

A Good Walk, Unspoiled

Thursday morning (Wednesday night to you time slackers in the States), we met as a group for the first time after breakfast.

Breakfast was a mix of US-style, Burmese, and English breakfasts from a buffet.  Had a variety of foods.  The small slices of butterfish were relatively tasteless, so I don’t need to have that again!

Anyhow, we’re here with an Inspirato group – just ten of us, and we met Ye Ye upstairs above the breakfast restaurant promptly at 8am.  Inspirato is the travel club we belong to – the group we went to Antarctica with, as well the ones we rented quite beautiful houses/resort condos from over the years.  Ye Ye (pronounced “Ye Ye” – bet you are glad I clarified that for you!) gave us a 20 minute briefing after we had all shook hands and introduced ourselves.  Interestingly, everyone is either from the East Coast or the West Coast.

We boarded a small bus (it’s only ten of us), and headed downtown.  We passed many of the sights and buildings we went past yesterday.  Ye Ye was giving us a briefing on Myanmar.  Even though Carol and I had heard some of it the day before, it was good to hear it again.  Maybe some of the info will sink in.

The bus stopped in the middle of downtown and let us out.  We followed Ye Ye past street food vendors, and turned down a smaller street.  He showed us a typical apartment building – eight stories high, no elevator – so the higher the apartment, the less it cost per month.  The ground floor is commercial, seemingly all selling some sort of wifi/phones/sim cards/etc.  There are doorbells dangling down from the apartments above – so you can ring the doorbell of someone on the seventh floor without having to hike up the stairs only to find no one home.  There were bags on ropes for newspapers, so you can haul up your paper without coming down/going back up.

There’s also a lot of laundry hanging out to dry on balconies.  As we walked, we talked, getting to know people in the group.  The fun part was dodging cars as they came down the street – it was narrow and crowded, so the cars weren’t able to go very fast.  It seems unlikely, but we spent two full days in Yangon and never saw a pedestrian hit by a car.  After the first hour in traffic on Wednesday, I set the over/under at five pedestrians hit, so I would have lost that bet.

The bus was quite conveniently waiting for us at the end of road, and we headed off to the monastery.

A Good Hair Day

Our final stop on our tiring first day in Yangon was the Botataung Pagoda, also known “Buddha’s First Sacred Hair Relic Pagoda.”  Quite catchy.

It houses the famous strands of hair that Buddha gave to two traders from what is now Yangon back in 6th century BC, which is a long time ago in anyone’s book.  The pagoda is beautiful (see pictures), with zigzag chambers of gold leaf leading you around.

The original pagoda was bombed and destroyed in 1943 by the RAF (they were bombing the port and some bombs missed).  In the reconstruction, they found the original stone casket with a small pagoda of pure gold – within that pagoda, two strands of Buddha’s hair was found.

The grounds were beautiful, with many small pagodas and shrines.  After walking around the grounds (and taking pictures), we strolled down to the river, taking in the controlled chaos of the little motorboats ferrying people across the river, kids and old women selling what appeared to be cornpuff balls, larger boats, and what have you.

After the trip back to the hotel (during which we hit. . .you guessed it. . .traffic!), we relaxed with a swim in the pool before dinner.  The restaurant was great, and we were seated next to the beautiful pool.  After dinner, it was early to bed.  A long first day, but full of amazing sights.

Photos from the Spice Market

Cinnamon

Tumeric

Like My Favorite Scene from My Favorite Movie

You know the scene in Goodfellas where Henry and Janice wind up with a table at the front of the Copacabana after winding their way through the kitchen.  Martin Scorsese shot it in an incredible fashion.  (Of course you know the scene -- EVERYONE knows that scene!)

That's how it felt when Aye Aye led us through the market and then the spice market.  We told her we are not big shoppers, but did want to see the markets.  Just because it was unlikely we would buy anything didn't mean we wouldn't want to see the place.

And, both markets were wild.  Aye Aye rushed us past stall after stall, zigging and zagging, every so often stopping to ask Carol if she had seen anything she wanted to buy (I never got the same question).  There were colorful fabrics, dresses, beautiful jewelry (lots of jade), trinkets and knick-knacks.  We buzzed by at such speed that I literally would point the camera and shoot whilst on the go.  The market was so beautiful that even those rushed photos generally came out well.

There are over 1100 stalls in the market, an old colonial (British, obviously) building.  We did not pass them all, but it seems like we came close.  Sometimes it was difficult to squeeze between the other people, other times we had to avoid tripping over sandals that the stallkeepers had left in the way.

Not only do Myanmarites (I just made that word up, I'm pretty sure) go barefoot into the pagodas (as must everyone), they also are barefoot in their homes and some of their businesses.  There are no "no shoes, no shirt, no service" signs here!

The spice market was not as beautiful, large, or colorful as the spice market in Istanbul, but it was quite aromatic.  Zipping past stalls, along crowded streets, past street food vendors (we were warned that our wimpy Western stomachs couldn't, well, stomach, the street food, so stay away!).

Besides the markets (Bogyoke and the spice market), we also got a great look at the crowded CBD streets.  Wires hanging everywhere out over the street, cars jockeying with people for space on the roads, general chaos ensues, but somehow works.

It's also like Cuba in that people cross the streets where they want.  It's unlike Cuba because there is a steady stream of cars, either going fast or hardly at all, depending on traffic.  I didn't see one person get hit, but they certainly seemed like they were trying!

The markets reminded me a little of the old flea markets our grandmother (Nana, bless her soul) used to take us to in the late 1960s/early 1970s -- but MUCH bigger and more chaotic.  Very cool places to walk, or essentially run, through!

A Panoply of Colors -- Pictures from the Market

There are many more scenes I could have taken pictures of, but this gives you a flavor for the colors in market.

Aye Aye dropped us off for lunch at Padonmar Restaurant around 1 pm.  The restaurant offered both Myanmar and Thai dishes.  The menu was a mile long and the food was plentiful.  We sat outside on a pretty lawn under an umbrella.

The heat and humidity were killing us -- even though we have not had much of a winter in Virginia, going from 40 degrees to high 80s with high humidity whilst overtired had an impact.  I'm pretty sure we gulped down three large bottles of water, along with a Coke Zero for Carol.

The food helped wake us back up, and we were taken to the hotel to check in.  The Belmond's Governor Residence is located in the diplomatic section, and is quite the nice oasis.  Aye Aye gave us 20 minutes to check-in and freshen up before zipping us off again!

Scenes from Bogyoke Market

There's Gold In Them There Museum

After the reclining Buddha Temple, we headed for the National Museum.  Trust me, even tired as we were, it was a lot more interesting than it sounds.

The first section we went in had the one remaining throne of the seven from the old Burmese kings -- the famed Lion throne.  The other thrones were destroyed in various wars with Britain (three wars total in the 1800s), and maybe other wars as well (as a crossroads place, Myanmar has had a lot of strife over the years, both externally and internally).

We walked up all five flights of stairs, covering different rooms (mercifully, Aye Aye only took us into one or two large rooms per floor, rather than cover everything).  We saw lots of amazing things -- much more interesting than the average museum.  Besides the throne (which is the piece de resistance of the museum), the other parts I remember most was the various gold/ruby inlaid royal pieces, and the various native costumes of the various tribes of Myanmar.

Oh yeah, there were also some ornately carved teak furniture -- huge pieces with jaw-dropping carvings.  (Do you ever wonder if one of those was almost finished when a craftsman said, "Whoops!" and had to start all over again.  If that happened, bummer.)

Photos were not allowed in many of the rooms, so there are just a handful.

Front of the Lion Throne

Ditto

Decorative pennants

Back of the throne

More Impressive Than The Biggest Ball of Yarn

We pulled up to the Chaukhtatgyi Buddha Temple and we were blown away by how beautiful it was.  We rushed out of the car, so I grabbed two lenses -- the 18-55 and the fixed lens (50).  As soon as we walked in, I realized I should have grabbed the wide angle lens -- the biggest reclining Buddha in the world was much bigger than I expected -- it measures 217 feet long.

Think about it -- that's more than 70 yards -- the length of an Eli Manning drive before having to settle for a field goal, or a holding penalty that forces the Giants to punt! #revamptheoffense!

Anyhow, the pictures below give you some idea of the scale.  I can see why the reclining Buddha is indoors (under a huge flat roof with two closed-in sides (short sides of the rectangle) and two open sides (long sides of the rectangle).

Our guide showed us all of the side parts of the temple, telling us more about the Buddha story than we ever knew (don't worry mom, not becoming a Buddhist!).  The craftsmanship is stunning. 

When we came to the golden thrones with Buddha images sitting on them in different poses with different meanings, There were probably 30-40 thrones in a row, behind the reclining Buddha.  A handful were all white, and then we came to the craftsmen who were making and adding the decorative flowers, lines, etc. to the thrones.  Very impressive to watch.  It was like watching a stonemason work on an old European Cathedral.  I did not want to disturb them, so I did not take pictures, which I of course regret right now, but it certainly seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

There are beautiful views out the back of the temple, including of another pagoda (my understanding is that the two words -- pagoda and temple -- are interchangeable, but pagoda is the most-used. . .except here at the reclining Buddha it is a temple.  Go figure.) 

There are giant bells and gongs throughout the temple. . .and every so often, one would ring.  

After we were done, we were given wet wipes to wipe the copious amount of dirt off the bottom of our feet.  Very cool first stop on our first day.

Lying Down on the Job

World's largest reclining Buddha

Chaukhtatgyi Buddha Temple

A Guardian

From toe to head

The feet all mean something.

The story of Buddha in pictures.

Unfinished Buddha throne

One of many that were finished.

Dragons guard the entrance to another pagoda

The rat -- symbolic of one of the days of the week.

The elephant in these turbulent times.

Above the entrance to the pagoda.

Not Good, But Not As Bad As It Could Be

Once we arrived in sunny, hot Yangon, we waited breathlessly for our bags to show up.  Immigration was a slow process, but we were near the front of the line, so it wasn't too long a wait -- and it was the longest wait we had at any point in the flight -- maybe 20 minutes.  International travel is much easier than it used to be!

The bag fear was that we had checked it all the way through to Yangon from Dulles airport -- three flights and many hours ago.  What if Thai airlines hadn't put it on the Yangon flight after overnighting in Bangkok?  Many bags came around multiple times, and we got quite nervous, but eventually ours showed.  A quick go through customs and out to find our guide for the day.

(By the way, both All Nippon Air and Thai Airlines were fantastic.  Great service, very good food, plenty of flight attendants -- US carriers could learn a thing or two, but they won't.  There were even flowers in the bathrooms!  And, the staff all bowed to the passengers and each other).

(Oh, when the ANA counter was opening at Dulles, they first all lined up and bowed to the passengers who had already arrived.  Pretty cool -- and they had plenty of counters open to move people through quickly!)

Carol spotted the sign/guide first, and we gratefully went over to meet Aye Aye for the day.  (Yes, that's her real name, and the Burmese don't use surnames, so, as she admitted, it can be confusing.).

She called our driver (you would NOT want to rent a car -- traffic in Yangon makes DC look like a summer picnic) and we waited (and sweated) for him to fight through the traffic from where he had parked.  Eventually he (Aung) got there, and we sped off to our first stop.

Just kidding.  When I said "sped" I meant the opposite (see what I did there, quite clever, eh).  We crawled through traffic as Aye Aye briefed us on the day,  Good thing it was after rush hour, because then traffic really doesn't move.  The chaos improved once we got away from the airport, but every so often traffic would come to a complete standstill as traffic lights would have to deal with five and six way intersections.

The street signs are in Burmese and English (a holdover from the days of Brit control), and many of the store signs are in English, which surprised me, given how long Myanmar was an isolated country -- competing with (but losing to) North Korea as most isolated.

We finally made it to a quieter neighborhood, and stopped so we could change our shoes into sandals (Keens for me, Oofos for Carol) to go into our first pagoda.  In the pagodas, everyone must go barefoot, so you want to be able to slip your footwear on and off easily.  You also must have your knees and shoulders covered.  That's a mixed bag for me (which of course I respected), because I don't wear wife beater shirts ever, but I do prefer shorts.  I solved that problem by wearing my zip-off hiking pants (brought multiple pairs of them) so I could unzip the bottom half of the pant legs when not going to pagodas.  Back into the car and off to the pagoda.

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is, Does Anybody Really Care?

We flew approximately 10,019 miles from Dulles to Tokyo to Bangkok to Yangon with over 22 hours in the air.  And boy, are our arms tired!  All total, from pick-up time at home to arrival in Yangon, we were traveling approximately 34 hours.  We'd better love Myanmar!

Usually I don't write much about the trip to a place, and I won't write much about this.  I will say, at my age, taking international flights in business class is a godsend, as the lay flat seats that turn into beds make sleeping so much easier.

Oh, we were still dazed and confused during and after our travels, but at least we were comfortably dazed and confused.  Biggest gripe of the trip?  Our newly updated iPad operating system wouldn't let us watch the movies we had downloaded unless it's connected to the internet. Basically they've wiped the ability to watch movies on a plane on the iPad.  But enough about my hard life.

We were on the ground for less than two hours in Tokyo, and stayed overnight at an airport hotel in Bangkok (used the room for maybe six hours, but the shower and short nap was worth it).  So, does that mean we've been to Japan and Thailand?  It's hard to say -- we were on the ground in both places, but we never left the airport grounds.  It's like the four times I've flown through Munich or Frankfurt -- not sure it counts.