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| Discovering
Rangoon |
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Rating:
 ( 5.0 ) ( 70
votes )
Rangoon (Yangon), Myanmar
Nov 19, 2002 07:57
Pros:
Kind anf friendly people, beautiful pagodas, good food
Cons:
none
Finally the day has come and we would be going to an entirely new
country which the world knew until 1989 as Burma. We heard many
strange stories of this isolated land, so naturally we were nervously
excited.
Flying Myanmar Airways was something which the Canadian Consultate
travel site warns against, but when we brought this up to our travel
agent days before he just smiled and said "don't worry, your's
will be a big plane and those don't crash as much". Okee Dokee
then. Upon landing in the capital city of Yangon (formerly Rangoon),
it struck as eerie to see only one other plane at the airport. Its
single terminal was a no frills, uncolorful place which couldn't
help but make an impression upon us that these folks didn't have
very much. Kevin, thanks for the survival book as the lesson on
how to pass a 'gift' proved quite useful to have us change less
of their foreign exchange certificates.
After negotiating a 3 dollar cab ride into town, we were on our
way. Along the way our driver stopped at a road shack to purchase
1 dollar of gas which was delivered via hose and funnel. When we
arrived at our eventual guest house, the owner asked us, with all
seriousness (as it would impact his business), how many people were
on our plane. Then it struck us, this sense of quiet desperation
of this place. After all Yangon has 3 million inhabitants, and in
no other cities of this size the world over would a single plane
impact anything.
The next day we sprung out of bed for our routine powerwalk. Yangon
was already bustling by 6AM. As we proceeded we noticed barbed wire
all over the place, sometimes in use stretched across to baricade
or otherwise just littering the sidewalk. We walked by the Democracy
garden, the very place where Aung San Suu Kyi riled public support
campaigning for election in 1989 which she went on to eventually
win and earn her a decade of house arrest (damn the military dictatorship)
and the Nobel Peace Prize. There was no denying that we stuck out
here like sore thumbs, some alien like tourists who were not only
from another land, but were also performing exercise. Everywhere
heads turned, jaws dropped and eyes peered. All this attention was
met with a courteous smile and to our delight it was almost always
reciprocated except for what was surely awe struck mind freeze.
These people have so rarely seen foreigners, after all the entire
country sees only 200,000 visitors per year which is peanuts compared
to Thailand's 10,000,000 per year. Plus the genuine warm smiles
were welcoming indeed, even though just by our presence we caused
a sensation.
Over the day, as we explored on foot, many people would come up
to us just to say hello, ask where we are from and then bid farewell.
This was refreshing after Bangkok where only those who wanted something
from us would even greet us. Yangon was a melting pot of eastern
peoples. Sure Burmese were the predominant ones, but also standing
out were Hindu Indians, Napalese and other Myanmar peoples which
we would later learn to better identify. Under the British, Burma
was eventually made into an Indian provice, something which was
apparent in city. Even the food was strongly Indian influenced,
with most restaurants serving chicken/pork/mutton curry and maybe
other food too. Among our favourite was New Delhi restaurant where
we ate some of the best Indian food we had, and paying some 3 dollars
for a large feast.
Yangon's most celebrated sight is the Schwedagon Pagoda, a national
treasure of a pagoda visible from much of the city. Hiring a tour
guide proved well worth it as we got the inside scoop about Buddhist
rituals and pagoda history. We even got to make water offerings
to our birth animals. Mine was an elephant with tusks (born in AM,
otherwise PM would be without tusks), and Debbie's was lion. This
pagoda is special to the Myanmar people, many of whom have donated
their personal jewelry for its decorative beauty.
Luck truly befell us that evening as we were looking for a restaurant
in a park north of Yangon when a voice directed at us softly let
out "Can I help you?". We looked over to see a robed monk,
holding a copy of a London travel guide. Surely enough he was kind
enough to show us the way, happy for this opportunity to practice
his English with those that knew it better. We learned that his
name was Acchariga, meaning 'surprise' in the Pali language, and
that all monks receive a new name in Balinesse when they enter the
monestary. Acchariga was in his mid twenties (we guessed), and has
been in the monestary since the age of five. After much conversation
he invited us for a trip to pagodas around Yangon the next day.
As promised, Acchariga and two fellow monks came by early the next
day. Our mode of transport was a public bus with a paltry fare of
4 cents. As we reached places outside of the city the stares got
more intense. Acchariga suggested that perhaps these people had
never seen a pale skinned foreigner. Truly amazing. Our first destination
was the Kyauk Khout pagoda. Next we went to Kyaik Hmaw Wun Ye Lay
Celti Taw (got all that?) pagoda. This pagoda was built on an island
in a river and is used to enshrine a sacred hair of the 4th Buddha.
It was recently renovated under the direction of the government's
Pagoda Restoration Commitee. Another attraction was getting attention
here, the giant catfish for whom large balls of popcorn were available
for feeding. The kids seemed amused.
Lunch conversation with our monk friends revealed some of the challenges
a modern day monk faces, and how some of the old rules are impractical
in this ever-changing world. It was a unique lesson about their
world, and we loved learning such as this. |
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