Free day! Breakfast again down on the terrace. The view across the river is lovely, with a large, gold-domed stupa crowning the ridge-top opposite. Getting used to seeing those, like the mosques in Istanbul. It’s just part of the landscape, but not in a i’m-used-to-all-that-and-don’t-even-see-them kind of way. Things are quiet, as it seems today it turn over for the resident tour group.
After breakfast and catching up on the blog, I pack up my carry bag to go explore in town. I walk down to the end of the road, and turn left to head in the opposite direction as last night when I climbed the Temple steps with the crowds to view the whole area and (not) the sunset.
About ten minutes into the walk I hear a scooter slow down beside me, and there’s a gentlman about 26 years old, teeth stained (somewhat typically) from chewing beetlenut leaves (have picture from the market of the product), and he wants me to take a moment to look at his art. I tell him politely that I will not buy anything, but will look at his art. We head off the road and he unrolls his cotton canvases on the floor of a deteriorating temple. Most look like the others I see at Temples and souvenir shops. I ask why wouldn’t he make some original designs and he does show me one. He says the money from his art helps pay school expenses. I think of my boy Rory, and hand him a wad of kyot. No art for me, but I recommend he be smart and use the money toward his schooling. I counsel that if he spends on something else, he will be back right in the same place. He agrees and I continue my walk.
In another 10 minutes I am through the Tharabar Gate, and walking past small shops and cafes. The shops have packets of foodstuffs hanging and I don’t really see much else. Cafes consist of a large, tarp-like material that shapes into the ceiling and sides of the structure, and underneath are support poles, plastic blue chairs and covered tables.
One has a large flat-screen with a footy game constantly playing. Sometimes it’s a smaller structure with a large shallow-wok container that holds all kinds of fried foods, alongside a cooking pot, for reheating, I suppose. The road is dusty and I am passed often by motorscooters, horsecarts and the occasional tour bus. I experience why some locals are wearing the face masks. Cough, cough!
I take a sharp right at the appropriate signage and head past some serious souvenir/goods shops.
Pottery of every size with beautifully glazed designs, carvings, lots of woven bamboo containers and shopping bags, as well as metal sculptures and wind chimes greet me on each side. After a few minutes, I am at a cluster of outdoor cafes and settle into Scoopy’s for an iced coffee and to read my book. After about 45 minutes, I pay, and head back on the loooong walk back to the hotel. I change and head over to the pool to catch some rays and dip my legs into the bracing water riverside, then up to the room for a shower and back into town for lunch.
Same routine as earlier, only I am very hungry, so decide to take a shortcut over to the restaurant area. It turns out NOT to lead where I’d like, but through a whole area of shops like I described before, many held up with rickety bamboo branches and woven roofs, but def no tourists around. I get to the other side and see a couple of tourist men bicycling past. Crime rate is very low or non-existent; the government takes care to ensure that and areas where that’s an issue are really off limit. I turn left up the dust bowl and see the back side of Ananda Temple. I know that my destination is on the other side of that, but don’t feel like removing my shoes and go through that to get to the other side, so another left, back out to the road (make note of my location for the next shortcut opportunity) and turn at the signs.
And guess who pulls up next to me? My friend the artist. He tells me that he often gets 4 or 5,000 for a piece of art (about $5 or $6), but never has anyone given him 16,000 kyot ($18?)….why did I do this? I explain to him about my third son Rory and how I supported him in honor of my starving artist back in the states. He has such a big smile and we discuss once again the importance to use that money to move him forward in his education – that’s the only way to get ahead for real. He pulls off and I am content.
I settle in at The Moon (Be Kind To Animals), and order a strawberry lassi, green papaya salad and coconut veggie curry with tofu. Sorry, no pictures, but you can bet I made all gone! Sat until I finished my book (Behind the Beautiful Forevers, an award winner written by a reporter about life in the slums of India and why it is so difficult to raise the lowest classes). Everything is mellow in the restaurant at this time because it is a bit past 2:30, the tour bus has left, and everyone has settled down into the afternoon lull. I smile, and head home.
A very quiet afternoon, catching up on email and blogposts, relaxing around the grounds. Once again, I am terribly sleepy. At this point, I do not believe it is the travel, but inner fatigue from my hectic life and from the whirlwind of activity to put my house up for sale and get everything handled before leaving town. I accept this and am happy that I can finally address that and rebuild my reserves. And there’s still Indonesia to come!
Impressions of Myanmar thus far? The people are friendly, as are those all over the world I have met. People only seem to get rude with attitude when they have money and live in more fortunate societies that (must) make them feel superior. I have learned to say hello and thank you in the local language and always enjoy the smile that brings to faces. Every time I walk out of the hotel, I pass the bicycle and horse-cart rental stand and they smile and ask if I’d like to rent something, knowing full well that I will be walking. And each time they smile and agree that it is good exercise.
The country thus far has proven to be as poor as you might suspect in a nation that has been cut off from the outside world for a long time, at least from the import/export point of view. US policy nothwithstanding, tourists have been visiting the country regularly for years. Only now that there is a more flexible diplomatic policy will more infrastructure come on line to support that fast-growing enterprise. The hope is that this economic boon will spread much wider than among the current oligarchical power structure. Another reason why I enjoy tipping well and just giving money for goods I do not take. And as Leonardo will confirm, there is trash (particularly the plastic kind) behind and among all of the little shops, filling the dry river bed, and elsewhere along the road. When I asked my guide about this, he says the government tries to get everyone to use the trash cans, but to little avail. Evidently everything used to be wrapped in banana leaves, which were fine to toss on the side of the road. But now that plastic is pervasive, the same habits remain. I was happy to see a group of men standing and looking at the trash in the dry river bed, I can only hope that they were considering what an eyesore it was and what might be done to resolve the issue.