Mingala-ba Myanmar!

Yangon offered a toned down version of the sensory overload that we first encountered upon setting foot in Delhi. The sidewalks were cluttered with teeny plastic chairs and tables, food vendors, booksellers, and cigar stands caked with stalagmites of the lime that is used to stick the leaves of the cigars together. Although the layer of grime was not as thick as that in Delhi, there was still a healthy dose of filth everywhere.
The first order of business was acquiring some local currency. Crossing the strehe counter of one ofet to the market we were quickly intersected by a man saying money-change? money-change? We agreed on a rate and he hastily led us up some stairs into the upper floor of the market, through a labyrinth of ladies hunched over vintage sewing machines and into what appeared to be the not-quite-open-yet “gem market”. Adam was directed behind t the gem stalls where he awkwardly pulled up one of the plastic kiddy chairs that two other Burmese men managed to make look reasonably comfortable. It took a while to count out the huge stack of one thousand kyat notes that we got in exchange for $100 US. The black market rate is 1200 kyat to $1 US, the official rate… we’re not too sure what that is yet- but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.

Finances out of the way, the next order of business was laundry. When we asked where we might find a laundry we were led to a clothing stall in the market, bewilderment turned to laughter when we discovered that the man thought we had asked for a longyi (the long wrap style skirts that most of the Burmese men wear). We gave up and turned our hotel bathroom into a laundromat, a skill that we have mastered over the past 7 months.
The rest of the day was spent strolling around and checking out the formerly grand British colonial buildings that have faded into ruin despite still being used for a number of official purposes. If we were a novelty to stare at in India, we had achieved minor celebrity (or perhaps freak) status here. The people were very friendly and chatty but I think there were a few that had never encountered foreigners before despite being in the capital city. Walking past a street food stall we saw one man staring at us mouth agape, spoon in hand frozen midway between his mouth and his bowl, he held this pose staring at us until we turned the corner out of his sight. Not by coincidence, our walk-about brought us past the flashy Strand hotel where we to quench our thirst. The bartender chatted with us as he whipped up a refreshingly tart pomelo margarita. Moving on, we stopped into an internet café where checking our emails proved to be a futile endeavour. Most websites were inaccessible, presumably a government attempt to control information.
The next day called for a visit to Yangon’s famous, huge, golden Shwedagon Paya. Gilded in 85 tonnes of gold and crowned with huge diamond, this stupa is stupefying! Unfortunately almost every single Buddha here has been adorned by a halo of tacky flashing LEDs making them look more like a Vegas spectacle than a place of worship.
We had lunch on the lake watching the red robed monks traversing the long footbridge under the shade of their parasols. There was just enough time for a market visit after lunch before boarding our bus to Mawlamyine. With a bus ticket entirely in Burmese, a dark parking lot full of people and buses, and zero illumination (thanks to a power outage) we would have never found our bus had it not been for our most helpful taxi driver. He led us to a candlelit check-in counter and then found our bus for us, which we faithfully stood by until we were allowed to board. We crammed ourselves into the tiny seats, Adam’s knees crushed against the seat in front of him (and this was before the lady in front tried to recline…. repeatedly) doing the best to make ourselves comfortable for the 7 hour journey that lay ahead. Incidentally, it stretched out to be a very uncomfortable 12 hour journey. The first five hours were especially unpleasant as the crappy speakers blared endless tinny karaoke DVD’s at a volume that made conversation impossible. Good thing we splashed out on the deluxe bus!