Note: This was written around Feb. 21. I'm going to post the prose now and do pictures later. I have some amazing pictures.
Airplanes seem to provide the only place where I have the time to work on this chronicle. This is our third day in Myanmar and we are now on our way to Mandalay having spent the last two in Yangon. We spend only about an hour in the air so I probably won’t get very far.
By now we are well acquainted with our travel mates and we have completed the tour of Yangon (formerly Rangoon). Yangon is the capital city of Myanmar (formerly Burma). It is all very confusing, especially since Nu Nu has told us that Myanmar is the correct and accepted term, although we had heard that the people preferred Burma. Very little has been said so far about the political situation either. We did have some interesting discussions the other night with a trio of ex-pats though, which I will get to later.
One interesting note on the differences between reality and the party line is the exchange rate. When I made my “cheat sheets” for the currency exchange rates of the various countries we would be visiting, the official rate for the Burmese kyat (pronounced “chat”) was about 6.3 kyat to the dollar. However, the actual rate is more like 1,150 kyat to the dollar! Imagine the poor unenlightened soul who changes his dollars into kyat at a bank where he receives the official rate! Nu Nu changed our dollars for kyat at 1,150 to one. Needless to say, everything is very cheap.
Our group is quiet interesting. Nu Nu, the tour leader, is a petite lady whose English is fluent and idiomatic, but her pronunciations can be challenging. Usually we can figure out what she is saying and if not she patiently rephrases or repeats until we get it.
Bob and Imelda are from Calabas, near San Diego, he a retired judge whose 78th birthday was yesterday and she a Filipina court reporter a bit his junior, but they are very solicitous of each other and seem devoted. They’ve been married just five years and spend a lot of time traveling.
Robert and Pearl are a couple as well, though not married--he lives in Florida and she in LA. They met at a wedding in Florida through mutual friends just two years ago. She is a retired librarian for the San Diego schools and he a retired college professor and former submarine pilot during WWII who has written a book about submarine life and culture. We must get it when we get home. They also travel a lot and have a trip planned to Australia in April right after this one. He is 83 and she probably early 70‘s. He told us a funny thing the second day. He said that when they met they hit it off immediately and after corresponding and dating a while, long distance I assume, she said that if he would travel with her she wouldn’t have to pay the single supplement. Now that’s a proposition if I ever heard one!
Stacy and Kim are both in the marketing department at Asia Transpacific Journeys and apparently are accompanying us either as fact finders for ATJ or simply as a perk of their jobs. We are too polite to ask. They are good friends and colleagues, 30-somethings, whose husbands are holding down their respective forts back in Colorado. They are both avid skiers and live in Colorado and so we have a lot in common through our Colorado connection. I think they have replaced the other couple who were signed up for the trip but canceled.
Then there is us. All in all, we are a congenial group and there is no lack of stimulating conversation. This will only get better as we become more acquainted.
As previously noted, we flew into Yangon Monday night and Nu Nu met us at the airport waving energetically with our name placard while we were still waiting in line to get through the entry point. Driving into town we couldn’t see much since it was dark, but she pointed out sites along the way to the hotel and we were able to see several embassies and the famous Shwe Dagon Pagoda ablaze in the night sky before arriving at the hotel.
The next morning we had breakfast in a beautiful tropical garden lush with ferns, waterways and exotic birds before meeting the group at nine. We then began our two day tour of Yangon. After we boarded the bus, Nu Nu gave us some background of Myanmar--the word itself means “quick” and “tough”, like her, she said. There are 135 ethnic groups in Myanmar (see? I’m already trained to say Myanmar and not Burma) and all of them are completely different. As in Bhutan, Buddhism dominates people’s lives and life pretty much revolves around the pagoda. Monks are everywhere on the streets, usually carrying a metal bowl in which they collect food or money to sustain themselves. While they are collecting food (one does NOT call it begging) they are not allowed to wear shoes or to look up at their benefactors. They have 227 rules they must obey and every Burmese man must spend two periods of indeterminate length in the monkhood sometime during his life. Some are young boys and as we saw last year they are as rambunctious as young boys are anywhere.
What to say about Yangon? From what we could see, most of the city is in a state of serious disrepair and it is very dirty with litter everywhere and crumbling pavements that create dust storms when you walk. The potential is there however for it to be a jewel of a city--the grand old buildings scream for attention from a sand blaster or at the very least a little TLC. And yet it is teeming with smiling, happy people going about their business. And extremely busy it is. Traffic is formidable as in other Asian cities, but we didn’t see a single traffic light and of course no discernible road rage. There are 6.5 million people in Yangon though it doesn’t seem that big because there are no high rises and the streets are at most four lanes wide.
Our first stop was to the banks of the Yangon River, bustling with commerce, men loading and unloading huge steel drums filled with oil and sacks of rice and other necessaries onto and off of barges most of which are dilapidated and old. Men were rolling the drums down wooden planks to the barges and you could see by the strain of their muscles how heavy those drums are and what would happen if they lost control and one went “barreling” down the ramp out of control. It would easily kill someone if that happened.
We walked along observing and everyone smiled at us and said Mingalaba--a combination of hello, good day and nice to see you. We stopped to watch a woman rolling betel nut packages like we had seen in Bangkok last year, and a man smiled broadly showing off his blackened betel nut stained teeth. Thus far I haven’t seen a single person smoking a cigarette (in Shanghai practically everybody was smoking), but betel chewing is rampant, the evidence showing in the red or black teeth of many of the smiling faces. This was also true in Bhutan.
Afterwards we went into town and walked around the downtown. There are lots of used book sellers that sell their volumes right on the street and Imelda found an old biography of Imelda Marcos for about two dollars and though it was in Burmese of course, we all urged her to buy it so she did. We walked through the elegant and old Strand Hotel--proof that at least some buildings are maintained so why not more. It is truly appalling how much work this city needs.
After a very nice lunch, we went to the main attraction in Yangon, the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, which dominates a fourteen-acre site filled with hundreds of smaller edifices each housing one or many Buddhas. It is filled with tourists, but many of the people there are the faithful sitting back on their knees praying to the Buddha. The Pagoda itself is covered in solid gold plate and you can’t go inside of it because it is solid inside, although it contains a number of relics and holy things from the Buddha himself, which I assume no one will ever be able to get to. We strolled the perimeter of the pagoda until sunset when it glows as if on fire without benefit of artificial light.
The second day in Yangon, we visited the 75 meter long Reclining Buddha. We had seen another version in Bangkok, to me more spectacular, although this one is still very impressive. The “skin“ of this one is pure white, whereas the Bangkok RB is all gold, not just paint but gold leaf I think, and much more opulent looking. The Yangon RB is rather playful looking, almost cartoonish (I mean no disrespect, do not punish me O Holy One). I hope to post a picture of the Yangon RB so you can see what I mean. Although his robe is gold, his skin is pure white, and he has bright red lips, red finger and toe nails and an almost feminine countenance as he relaxes on his side with his head supported by his hand.
Later we visited an orphanage which is partly sponsored by Asia Transpacific Journeys (ATJ) and it was quite an eye opener. We met the principal of the school and then visited with the children who thanked us for a gift that had been given on our behalf by ATJ. It was a stack of books and a large sack of rice. The children, who were lined up neatly in four or five rows, about forty of them and all girls, ranged in age from about 5 to 14. Each class raised its hand when the principal asked for first grade, second grade, etc. They were very sweet and with Nu Nu as interpreter asked several questions about us--where we were from, what our jobs were, etc. Afterwards we saw their dormitory, rows of single beds neatly made each with a small stack of personal belongings at the foot of the bed. We saw their classroom and the food hall where rice and a small bit of fish and fruit is their daily fare. The guilt about the blessings we take for granted becomes very strong at a moment like that.
Later we had an al fresco dinner in the garden of the hotel and the eight of us were joined by Nu Nu and a couple of people from her company, Tour Mandalay, who work in conjunction with ATJ. But the highlight of the dinner was a trio of Americans, Kurt, Kathy, and Brian, who have lived in Yangon for several years and before that in Thailand, training the local people to use water purifiers and thus reduce the staggering amount of water borne disease. A more enthusiastic bunch you will never meet. After a couple of hours over dinner and coffee we understood at least a little of the difficulties they encounter every day, like the fact that the government will not allow them personally to enter the villages to train the people. Instead they must train native born Burmese who in turn go into the villages. The reason for this is so that the government can take the credit for the charitable acts rather than have the people perceive that the Americans are responsible. But they don’t mind because the only thing that is important is that the people become aware and change their habits. As you might imagine, sanitation is beyond sub-standard.
After much discussion I said to Brian, “you are really a hero.” He replied, “No I’m not, I’m here because I love it. The people here give me so much more than I give them.” They are paid through a joint sponsorship between ATJ’s foundation and UNICEF, but from what I gathered from Stacy and Kim (remember they work for ATJ so they know about this project), they live pretty close to the bone so that most of the money can go to the people and into the project. For example, Brian lives in an apartment of about 300 square feet, even though he could live in a larger one. I was so impressed by their selfless attitude but also by the radiance they projected and the belief that they actually could make a difference.
Airplanes seem to provide the only place where I have the time to work on this chronicle. This is our third day in Myanmar and we are now on our way to Mandalay having spent the last two in Yangon. We spend only about an hour in the air so I probably won’t get very far.
By now we are well acquainted with our travel mates and we have completed the tour of Yangon (formerly Rangoon). Yangon is the capital city of Myanmar (formerly Burma). It is all very confusing, especially since Nu Nu has told us that Myanmar is the correct and accepted term, although we had heard that the people preferred Burma. Very little has been said so far about the political situation either. We did have some interesting discussions the other night with a trio of ex-pats though, which I will get to later.
One interesting note on the differences between reality and the party line is the exchange rate. When I made my “cheat sheets” for the currency exchange rates of the various countries we would be visiting, the official rate for the Burmese kyat (pronounced “chat”) was about 6.3 kyat to the dollar. However, the actual rate is more like 1,150 kyat to the dollar! Imagine the poor unenlightened soul who changes his dollars into kyat at a bank where he receives the official rate! Nu Nu changed our dollars for kyat at 1,150 to one. Needless to say, everything is very cheap.
Our group is quiet interesting. Nu Nu, the tour leader, is a petite lady whose English is fluent and idiomatic, but her pronunciations can be challenging. Usually we can figure out what she is saying and if not she patiently rephrases or repeats until we get it.
Bob and Imelda are from Calabas, near San Diego, he a retired judge whose 78th birthday was yesterday and she a Filipina court reporter a bit his junior, but they are very solicitous of each other and seem devoted. They’ve been married just five years and spend a lot of time traveling.
Robert and Pearl are a couple as well, though not married--he lives in Florida and she in LA. They met at a wedding in Florida through mutual friends just two years ago. She is a retired librarian for the San Diego schools and he a retired college professor and former submarine pilot during WWII who has written a book about submarine life and culture. We must get it when we get home. They also travel a lot and have a trip planned to Australia in April right after this one. He is 83 and she probably early 70‘s. He told us a funny thing the second day. He said that when they met they hit it off immediately and after corresponding and dating a while, long distance I assume, she said that if he would travel with her she wouldn’t have to pay the single supplement. Now that’s a proposition if I ever heard one!
Stacy and Kim are both in the marketing department at Asia Transpacific Journeys and apparently are accompanying us either as fact finders for ATJ or simply as a perk of their jobs. We are too polite to ask. They are good friends and colleagues, 30-somethings, whose husbands are holding down their respective forts back in Colorado. They are both avid skiers and live in Colorado and so we have a lot in common through our Colorado connection. I think they have replaced the other couple who were signed up for the trip but canceled.
Then there is us. All in all, we are a congenial group and there is no lack of stimulating conversation. This will only get better as we become more acquainted.
As previously noted, we flew into Yangon Monday night and Nu Nu met us at the airport waving energetically with our name placard while we were still waiting in line to get through the entry point. Driving into town we couldn’t see much since it was dark, but she pointed out sites along the way to the hotel and we were able to see several embassies and the famous Shwe Dagon Pagoda ablaze in the night sky before arriving at the hotel.
The next morning we had breakfast in a beautiful tropical garden lush with ferns, waterways and exotic birds before meeting the group at nine. We then began our two day tour of Yangon. After we boarded the bus, Nu Nu gave us some background of Myanmar--the word itself means “quick” and “tough”, like her, she said. There are 135 ethnic groups in Myanmar (see? I’m already trained to say Myanmar and not Burma) and all of them are completely different. As in Bhutan, Buddhism dominates people’s lives and life pretty much revolves around the pagoda. Monks are everywhere on the streets, usually carrying a metal bowl in which they collect food or money to sustain themselves. While they are collecting food (one does NOT call it begging) they are not allowed to wear shoes or to look up at their benefactors. They have 227 rules they must obey and every Burmese man must spend two periods of indeterminate length in the monkhood sometime during his life. Some are young boys and as we saw last year they are as rambunctious as young boys are anywhere.
What to say about Yangon? From what we could see, most of the city is in a state of serious disrepair and it is very dirty with litter everywhere and crumbling pavements that create dust storms when you walk. The potential is there however for it to be a jewel of a city--the grand old buildings scream for attention from a sand blaster or at the very least a little TLC. And yet it is teeming with smiling, happy people going about their business. And extremely busy it is. Traffic is formidable as in other Asian cities, but we didn’t see a single traffic light and of course no discernible road rage. There are 6.5 million people in Yangon though it doesn’t seem that big because there are no high rises and the streets are at most four lanes wide.
Our first stop was to the banks of the Yangon River, bustling with commerce, men loading and unloading huge steel drums filled with oil and sacks of rice and other necessaries onto and off of barges most of which are dilapidated and old. Men were rolling the drums down wooden planks to the barges and you could see by the strain of their muscles how heavy those drums are and what would happen if they lost control and one went “barreling” down the ramp out of control. It would easily kill someone if that happened.
We walked along observing and everyone smiled at us and said Mingalaba--a combination of hello, good day and nice to see you. We stopped to watch a woman rolling betel nut packages like we had seen in Bangkok last year, and a man smiled broadly showing off his blackened betel nut stained teeth. Thus far I haven’t seen a single person smoking a cigarette (in Shanghai practically everybody was smoking), but betel chewing is rampant, the evidence showing in the red or black teeth of many of the smiling faces. This was also true in Bhutan.
Afterwards we went into town and walked around the downtown. There are lots of used book sellers that sell their volumes right on the street and Imelda found an old biography of Imelda Marcos for about two dollars and though it was in Burmese of course, we all urged her to buy it so she did. We walked through the elegant and old Strand Hotel--proof that at least some buildings are maintained so why not more. It is truly appalling how much work this city needs.
After a very nice lunch, we went to the main attraction in Yangon, the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, which dominates a fourteen-acre site filled with hundreds of smaller edifices each housing one or many Buddhas. It is filled with tourists, but many of the people there are the faithful sitting back on their knees praying to the Buddha. The Pagoda itself is covered in solid gold plate and you can’t go inside of it because it is solid inside, although it contains a number of relics and holy things from the Buddha himself, which I assume no one will ever be able to get to. We strolled the perimeter of the pagoda until sunset when it glows as if on fire without benefit of artificial light.
The second day in Yangon, we visited the 75 meter long Reclining Buddha. We had seen another version in Bangkok, to me more spectacular, although this one is still very impressive. The “skin“ of this one is pure white, whereas the Bangkok RB is all gold, not just paint but gold leaf I think, and much more opulent looking. The Yangon RB is rather playful looking, almost cartoonish (I mean no disrespect, do not punish me O Holy One). I hope to post a picture of the Yangon RB so you can see what I mean. Although his robe is gold, his skin is pure white, and he has bright red lips, red finger and toe nails and an almost feminine countenance as he relaxes on his side with his head supported by his hand.
Later we visited an orphanage which is partly sponsored by Asia Transpacific Journeys (ATJ) and it was quite an eye opener. We met the principal of the school and then visited with the children who thanked us for a gift that had been given on our behalf by ATJ. It was a stack of books and a large sack of rice. The children, who were lined up neatly in four or five rows, about forty of them and all girls, ranged in age from about 5 to 14. Each class raised its hand when the principal asked for first grade, second grade, etc. They were very sweet and with Nu Nu as interpreter asked several questions about us--where we were from, what our jobs were, etc. Afterwards we saw their dormitory, rows of single beds neatly made each with a small stack of personal belongings at the foot of the bed. We saw their classroom and the food hall where rice and a small bit of fish and fruit is their daily fare. The guilt about the blessings we take for granted becomes very strong at a moment like that.
Later we had an al fresco dinner in the garden of the hotel and the eight of us were joined by Nu Nu and a couple of people from her company, Tour Mandalay, who work in conjunction with ATJ. But the highlight of the dinner was a trio of Americans, Kurt, Kathy, and Brian, who have lived in Yangon for several years and before that in Thailand, training the local people to use water purifiers and thus reduce the staggering amount of water borne disease. A more enthusiastic bunch you will never meet. After a couple of hours over dinner and coffee we understood at least a little of the difficulties they encounter every day, like the fact that the government will not allow them personally to enter the villages to train the people. Instead they must train native born Burmese who in turn go into the villages. The reason for this is so that the government can take the credit for the charitable acts rather than have the people perceive that the Americans are responsible. But they don’t mind because the only thing that is important is that the people become aware and change their habits. As you might imagine, sanitation is beyond sub-standard.
After much discussion I said to Brian, “you are really a hero.” He replied, “No I’m not, I’m here because I love it. The people here give me so much more than I give them.” They are paid through a joint sponsorship between ATJ’s foundation and UNICEF, but from what I gathered from Stacy and Kim (remember they work for ATJ so they know about this project), they live pretty close to the bone so that most of the money can go to the people and into the project. For example, Brian lives in an apartment of about 300 square feet, even though he could live in a larger one. I was so impressed by their selfless attitude but also by the radiance they projected and the belief that they actually could make a difference.
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