The Shwedagon (finally)

I chose to wait until the closing days of my trip to write this post for two reasons. Firstly, a practical reason- it seemed that every time I photographed the Shwedagon, I never came away with the shot I wanted because of the gloomy weather (I entered the pagoda twice during my visit, and made trips to specific vantage points on several occasions), only managing some satisfactory ones yesterday. Secondly, I wanted to end with a bang, because without question the Shwedagon is a big deal.

There are some landmarks that have come to define cities- the Eiffel Tower, the St. Louis Arch, Big Ben, the Sydney Opera House, the list goes on. The Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon is one such landmark. At a purported 334 structural feet it dominates the skyline of the city from its hilltop perch, and has done so since 1372 (or perhaps one of the many other dates suggested by legend and researcher alike). When standing next to it and the plethora of miniature pagodas that surround it, sunglasses come in handy even on a cloudy day as the gilded magnificence of whole affair can be a bit blinding at times. Trinidad James would fit right in.

The pagoda not only symbolizes the city, but the entire country as well, and the Buddhist religion that dominates it. With relics of the past four Buddhas encased within its swooping bell-shaped figure, the Pagoda is the most sacred site of worship for some 54 million Burmese Buddhists. It also encapsulates the exotic allure that has brought foreigners here (for better or worse) for the past 500 years. Rudyard Kipling can explain it better than I can-

'There's the old Shway Dagon'  said my companion. 'Confound it!' But it was not a thing to be sworn at. It explained in the first place why we took Rangoon, and in the second why we pushed on to see what more of rich or rare the land held. Up till that sight my uninstructed eyes could not see that the land differed much in appearance from the Sunderbuns, but the golden dome said: 'This is Burma, and it will be quite unlike any land you know about.

It’s been sacked a handful of times, defiled on more than one occasion, used as a British military base in colonial times and as a rallying point for protesters in modern times. In the early 1600s a Portuguese mercenary even attempted to steal the heaviest bell in recorded history from the foot of the pagoda and melt it down to make cannons. He rolled it down the hill, loaded onto a raft, and sailed it down the Yangon River- until it broke the raft with its immense weight and sunk to the bottom of the river, where it remains to this day. It's called the Great Bell of Dhammazedi, the Wikipedia article is a good read. Later on, the British tried to take a slightly less heavy bell, which sunk to the river as well. Somehow the Burmese were able to salvage it from the depths and return it to its rightful place, where paintings now chronicle the whole ordeal. Pictured is the bell in question.  

It can be impressive, imposing, and mysterious at any given time, but more than anything the Shwedagon is beautiful. It was one of the first things I saw in Yangon, and one of the last, just today. You can’t get a feel for it if you see it just once or twice because it changes every time depending on the time of day and the weather, one reason it was so difficult to photograph. In the end I managed to take some shots from about 6 different places, ranging from the top of a tower downtown at sunset to 20 feet away. But like any great landmark, the pictures don’t do it justice, and I know that when I leave here I’ll be better served closing my eyes and imagining what it felt like standing next to it rather than looking at pictures.

Tonight is my last night in Yangon. Anna has already returned to the states and I will join her, if only briefly, from the 1^st to the 7^th September before I leave for Edinburgh and more foreign escapades. I’m not through writing just yet as there are a few more topics I want to touch upon, and a surprise that I’ve not told anyone about, but I will definitely be leaving the country tomorrow morning. For now I aim to relax and enjoy my final evening. 

Driving in Burma

Rollin'

I’ve been driving for about five years now, and I consider myself pretty good at it for my age/experience level. Driving in the U.S. is pretty straightforward, after all. There are lanes that you stay in, turns signals to indicate when turning, speed limits, etc., and for the most part everyone accepts and abides by these rules. I would venture that this is the case in most of the Western world (excluding Providence).

Then you have driving in the Third World. Lanes? Huh? What do you need a turn signal for when you have a horn? And a ‘speed limit’, that’s rich. Fortunately(?) for me, I’ve had the opportunity while in Burma to drive quite a bit actually, in all conditions: large SUV, sedan, motorcycle, left side drive, right side drive, day, night, rain, torrential downpour, and shine. So, let me explain a little about what it’s like for those that will never get the opportunity.

Driving in Burma is a little bit like being in a bumper car ring where everyone is actually trying to get somewhere (different of course) and you’re not allowed to hit anyone. Most laws that you think are essential in the U.S. are either non-existent or ignored on principle. Nobody wears seat belts, if there are speed limits printed in Burmese then everyone ignores them (I haven’t noticed any), and drivers have a tendency to drive straight down the lane marker as opposed to in one lane or the other. Pedestrians here laugh in the face of death and will stroll right into the middle of speeding traffic, hopping from one lane line to the next until they are across and then grinning and joking about how they literally almost got run over. People will park in the most idiotic places, and sometimes the outermost lane will just be consumed completely by ramshackle street vendors and parked cabs. There are also people making u-turns everywhere, contributing to random bumper-to-bumper traffic that disappears as quickly as it materializes. It’s actually a miracle in my opinion that people here do abide by traffic lights (which happen to have little timers on them that tell you how long the light will last, dead useful).

Because of the large influx of cars to the streets of Yangon over the past few years the city is highly congested at certain points of the day, caused partially by a number of skyways currently under construction that will eventually alleviate some of the traffic. I don’t know about morning rush, but pretty much from 3pm to 8pm you can forget about getting anywhere in the city in a timely fashion. Case in point, Anna and I sat in a cab yesterday for a little over an hour during a trip which would normally take about 10 minutes with less traffic. 

My verdict on driving here is that half the time it’s fun as hell, and the other half it’s pretty much a living hell. Especially around where I’m staying, there are some genuinely nice roads, and with the palm trees and red and white curb paint you start getting that arcade racing vibe pretty quickly… not to mention it’s nice not having to worry about silly laws ruining all the fun. On the other hand, once you get stuck in traffic I’m not going to lie it sucks, especially when it’s hot and you don’t have AC.

The jury is still out on how my experience driving in Burma will affect my driving once I return to U.S. roads… probably negatively. I have successfully avoided being involved in any accidents thus far (aside from being rear-ended at a red light, minor impact no damage) and my reflexes and horn-honking instincts are at an all-time high, but I’m also now used to passing on two-lane streets, forcing my way into lanes, and honking at slower cars to get out of the way. Whatever the eventual effects on my driving, definitely a worthwhile experience and probably some good practice for future travels.

Myanmar's mysterious new capital

Over the weekend I finally got to go to Naypyidaw. My desire to go so badly is pretty unique among foreign visitors to Burma. It isn't a tourist destination, and for good reason- there's nothing there for tourists to see really. The ability to say I had been to the mysterious new capital was a strong force behind my visit, and of course there were a few sites of particular interest to me as opposed to most other people, which I'll get to. For a quick background on the city refer to my post titled 'Journey to the North'. 

Anna feeding a tiger

We took a late night bus so as to arrive in Naypyidaw from Yangon early in the morning and leave late that night. One thing that I was determined to see was a statue of three ancient warriors that is part of the complex where the military holds troop reviews once a year. We drove for about half an hour to the  national monument garden, where we thought the statues were, but this proved to be the wrong place so we slated the statues for later in the day and headed to the zoo instead. There were two options in regards to the animals: a safari ride and a traditional walk/ride-through zoo. We opted first for the Safari and then to walk around. I assumed that a Burmese zoo would operate a bit differently than zoos in the states, but I definitely underestimated how fun it would be. Not only did I get to stand inches away from lions and tigers while feeding them slabs of meet though a fence, but I also realized my longtime dream of riding an elephant, after which we watched them do various tricks including playing a soccer match. Far better in my book than trying to spot tigers sleeping from 50 feet away at zoos in the US, although I'm not sure the zoo we visited would exactly conform to US law...

After finishing up at the Zoo it was back to the business of these statues, and this is where it starts to get really interesting. The Burmese government loves to build these large, swooping, brightly colored entryways to significant places. We drove up to one such gate that guarded the grounds where the statues were located, and were told by the guards there to drive to the other gate. There, we were greeted by a civilian guardsman. I waited in the car while Anna and our drivers spoke with this man. They talked for quite a while, then Anna walked back to the car looking frustrated, and informed me that we would not be allowed in. They only opened the grounds for military parades once a year apparently, and even then no civilians were allowed within. This made sense because the only pictures I had seen of the statues online were taken amidst military pomp, and by professional journalists. 

I had just begun to accept the fact that I would never be allowed in when the conversation with the guard was rekindled. Talking, more talking, and then a phone call. An actual military guy then showed up, more talking, another phone call, the showing of IDs, and before I knew it the gate was being opened and one of the guards was climbing into our car to direct us where to go. I could hardly believe my luck. No civilians were ever allowed in this place we'd been told, and here I am, citizen of the United States of America, having a drive in. No questions were asked about me. I was not acknowledged by the guard in the car nor those at the gate at any point. We drove up to the statues and were told we weren't allowed to take any pictures... so I rolled down the window, pulled out my camera and, with only the pretense of being covert, snapped a few photos. Nothing was said. We drove back, dropped off the guard, and that was that. I'm still kind of at a loss as to what happened exactly, other than the fact that I'm now probably one of very few foreign civilians to lay eyes on this particular corner of Burma. Anna said that she was just really persistent in asking to see the statues, and simply made it happen. If anything, I suppose its proof of a more relaxed atmosphere in the country since the transition to civilian government a few years ago. The statues themselves were smaller than I had expected, but still rather impressive. I saw no obvious reason to keep the grounds closed off. It was just a thirty second drive from the gates to the large tarmac leading up to the statues, and that's all there was; no buildings, vehicles, or anything other than concrete and vegetation. 

The money shot

The outcome of the statue situation put me in a really good mood for the ride to our next destination, the Uppatasanti Pagoda. We stopped at a roadside restaurant on the way, giving me a chance to mull over the layout of Naypyidaw. The entire city, if you can really call it that, was planned out by the military government before the transition of power. I'm not terribly familiar with the design of other planned cities, but I'm going to venture a guess and say that Naypyidaw is fairly unique. It seems to me that the city was designed with solely strategic interests in mind. Case in point- you would expect to see a 20-lane highway in LA maybe... but low and behold there is one in Naypyidaw, wide enough to land a military aircraft, that leads up to the entrance of the parliament complex.  Other wide highways with palm tree-decorated medians stretch to connect a series of large roundabouts. The only significant buildings are hotels, many still under construction, to house the scores of MPs that live in the city when Parliament is in session (to go along with at least 5 golf courses in the outlying areas). One of my first thoughts upon seeing how deserted these miles of highway were was that if given a sports car, I could easily keep myself occupied for a couple of days. On the weekends at least, the roads are hauntingly devoid of other vehicles. It'd be like playing Gran Tourism on time trial mode.

Zoom zoom

Despite Naypyidaw sporting a population of nearly a million people according to the latest numbers, residential areas were few and far between so I can only imagine what preposterous square mileage is considered part of the 'city'. The way everything is designed, I really don't think the government had any intention of Naypyidaw becoming anything resembling a conventional type of city, at least not near the government buildings. The roadways are far more conducive to troop movements and strategic blockades than to apartments and businesses. Still, who knows what could happen now that the military is not strictly controlling policy. 

Roundabout

After lunch we went to check out the aforementioned pagoda. Completed just a few years ago, it is a slightly smaller replica of the Shwdagon (quite on purpose) built onto an impressive hill that gives it an added dose of grandeur. After seeing slightly under a billion pagodas in Burma, I was on the verge of concluding than once you've seen one up-close, you've seen them all. The Uppatasanti, however, surprised me with a really unique and impressive vaunted chamber on the inside, supported by massive columns (unusual for large pagodas, you normally aren't allowed inside). The pagoda's name means 'protection against calamity', some symbolism that parallels the city's practical purpose as a safer more strategic seat of government. There were very few people visiting the pagoda.  

The last thing I saw in Naypyidaw was probaby the most important- Parliament. built onto a slight plateau surrounding by heavy brush and connected to the 20-lane superhighway by two large suspension bridges, the parliament complex is a marvel of subtle defensive design. It being a weekend, I couldn't even gain access to the 'island', despite my connections, as the bridges were closed off. I settled instead for driving around snapping some pictures from a distance at various angles. The whole assortment looks very Xanadu-esque from a distance, with the pointy spires and columns being the most prominent architectural features.  I would have liked to have gone inside and had a look around but it just wan't feasible, so I settled for these shots and we called it a day. 

After running around Naypyidaw, I had the pleasure of talking with Anna's grandfather, who is a member of the upper house of parliament (Amyotha Hluttaw) and the chairman of the International Relations Committee, among other posts. We spoke at length about Myanmar's economic and defense strategy within the framework of ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), as well as its relationship with neighbor China and of course the U.S., followed by a more general conversation about present global issues. It was a fantastic opportunity discussing IR with someone who actually makes and influences policy in a country such as this, and I learned some useful information about how the government here works. 

We had a little time before our bus back to Yangon, so we stopped at a fountain park before making our way to the bus depot. The buses we traveled on were much the same as the ones I've used in the U.S., but for their insistence to pipe loud Burmese music videos over the loudspeaker the entire time (the other passengers evidently enjoying this entertainment.) Every video was the same- a couple, wondering around in a park, maybe an argument, a reconciliation, more aimless wondering, bad lip syncing, etc. The bus took six hours to get back to Yangon, and once home I slept like a rock. 

Inle Lake

 I wasn’t expecting to fly domestically in Burma, but soon enough I found myself soaring in an Air Yangon puddle-jumper from Mandalay to Heho Airport just a short drive from Inle Lake. Inle (sometimes Anglicized as Innlay) is a large freshwater lake in the Shan State south of Mandalay, and one of the most popular destinations in the country. Tourists come to enjoy the brilliant scenery and observe the local customs, such as fisherman rowing skinny canoe-like boats holding the oar with only their leg.

It’s really a feat how they do it. The bottom part of the handle closest to the paddle is pinned against the inside of the heel, while the upper handle is leveraged with the outside thigh. A hand on the head of the oar is used when available and not working the net. I didn’t notice if this technique was ever reversed depending on the direction one is rowing so I couldn’t say. As for the scenery, well I’ve seen quite a lot of that on this trip- from the tops of mountains to the depths of valleys and caves, and everywhere in between- but I may have to award Inle the distinction of being the prettiest. After we got settled in at the resort, hopped in a boat, and took to the lake, seeing the mountains from out in the middle of that water just had a certain mystique to it that was to me without equal.

The first day on the lake we spent just kind of meandering about to various places. We first went for lunch at a stilted restaurant that bred a special type of Burmese cat. They took their cats very seriously, allotting them a large playroom and their own private island out back, connected by a bridge that the cats could use at their leisure. We went to a weaving shop and a silversmith, and eventually saw some of the floating vegetable gardens that are apparently accounting for much of the lost surface area of the lake, and by this time it was pouring down rain so we turned to make the hour-long boat trip back to the resort in the deluge. Just before that, however, I got the chance to see several Badaung women that stay at the lake for tourism purposes. The Badaung, of course, are best known for their custom of wearing gold rings around their necks, 24 in total when they reach maturity. This was kind of a watershed travel moment for me as I can remember being a very young and seeing these women on tv, and thinking to myself how strange and exotic that was. I’ve always kind of held that image in my mind, and so to see the real thing with my own eyes was a thrill.

Inle was also interesting for me because of the houses and business located right in the middle of the lake. At times, you feel like you’re in a sort of primitive Venice- there are chunks of land here and there but most of the buildings are on stilts regardless, and you just pull your boat up to the small dock at the side of each place and disembark. There are a surprising number of restaurants and shops, and I even saw an entire stilted hotel smack dab in the middle of the lake.

Back at the resort, I learned once and for all the important lesson that Burmese chefs have absolutely no concept of the terms rare, medium, and well done as we do in America. Well done is wholly pink but crispy on the outside,  medium is dripping with blood, and I won’t venture to guess what the steak would even look like if you dared to order it rare. I refined my strategy to ordering medium-well, then automatically telling them to send it back for more cooking, thus ending up with the perfect steak. Everything else about the resort though was absolutely perfect; our room even came equipped with binoculars and a local bird watching guide. The views, though, were the best, stretching out across the lake and to the mountains on the other side- by far the most beautiful view I’ve ever woken up to.

The next day we got an early start and headed three hours to Pindaya Cave, which can only be described as a giant cavern high up in a mountain that is stuffed to the gills with golden Buddha statues. Half tourist destination, half Buddhist pilgrimage site, the cave is definitely something to see, and offers spooky legends about tunnels to Bagan and giant spiders. The cave goes fairly deep into the mountain with several cavernous chambers linked together, and the statues, which are all donated by various people and entities, are placed haphazardly everywhere imaginable. Once the novelty of the statues wears off it ceases to amaze, but I was still glad I went.

For the final day in Inle we had a guide take us to a Shan historical site on the lake with Pagodas up to 600 years old (if I remember correctly). The site was flanked by an impossibly long sheltered walkway and a newer main pagoda, and apparently access to outsiders was only recently granted by the Shan people. The pagodas were relatively small, with brickwork similar to that in Bagan, but the design was definitely unique to anything else I had seen. Some had been restored, while others remained in their crumbling, weathered state, which I rather liked. There wasn’t much time to do anything else that day as our flight left in the afternoon. After a lunch of pizza at an improbably located Italian restaurant (complete with a founding story tracing its roots back to a Roman chef’s visit ten years ago), we boated back to the resort and then drove to the airport. On the plane I could tell we were approaching Yangon due to the increasingly gray, overcast clouds, and sure enough we touched down to a typically wet and gloomy Yangon evening. 

The Golden Palace City

 In 1857 the Burmese King Mindon moved the kingdom's capital to Mandalay to fulfill a prophecy. An enormous 1020 acre palace-city was constructed, walls built around it, and moats dug around those to to create a grandiose abode fit for royalty. As it so happened, Mandalay proved to be the final stop for Burmese royalty, as the northern territories were finally captured by the British in 1885 and the royal family exiled. During World War II the Japanese used the palace grounds as a supply depot, and it was subsequently bombed and burned to the ground by allied planes. Thanks to the plans commissioned over 40 years earlier by Lord Curzon, Viceroy of India, a detailed reconstruction of the palace was possible in a city that over a million people now call home.

Inside the Palace walls the compound was rather barren and a bit unkempt, it being off-season for tourists in Mandalay. The picture you see above I took from the watch tower, which provided an excellent place to examine the palace buildings as a whole. Down below, you can walk into most of the buildings, and believe it or not you still have to take your shoes off in the throne rooms despite the current lack of Burmese royalty wandering about or the actual authenticity of the structure itself. Toward the back of the complex there was a little museum displaying some very intricate and appealing effects salvaged from the original palace, including a bed frame made entirely from glass.

As far as salvaged buildings go, there is one, but it isn’t within the palace walls. It’s called the Shwenandaw Monastery and is movable and made entirely out of intricately carved wood. Each piece of the structure can be disassembled and reassembled, allowing for its mobility. Mindon’s son Thibaw moved the structure sometime before the fall of Mandalay and there it resides today. The woodwork, when examined up close, is impeccable, and the structure has weathered remarkably well, possibly due to its teak material. Every piece has its place, and the joints are all flush but visible, testimony to the building’s claim. According to Wikipedia, King Mindon actually died in this building, but I can neither confirm nor deny that.

Something else that resides in Mandalay, that you may find surprising, is the world’s largest book. When I was told this I imagined some enormous Buddhist text with pages as large as rooms being turned by a battalion of faithful monks. What I found instead was this:

The world’s largest book is actually a collection of 729 stone tablets, each individual tablet surrounded by its own white stupa. The space taken up by this elaborate show of dedication could probably easily house a couple million regular volumes, but instead is reserved for just this one, the subject of which is of course Buddhist scripture.

Mandalay is one of those exotic sounding places that you probably won’t ever find yourself in unless you make a real effort to get there. I heard it was cleaner than Yangon, and I’d have to agree, although just as congested due to the swarms of motorbikes (which have been banned in Yangon). I actually had the displeasure of seeing someone dead on the street after an accident, and with the way people drive in Burma I’d imagine similar incidents are pretty frequent.

The final thing I saw on my first of two days in Mandalay was the U Bein Bridge, longest teak bridge in the world (lots of teak in Burma). The bridge stretches 1.2 kilometers and is one of the more popular destinations in the city. The pictures I’d seen of the bridge looked a lot nicer than the real thing, but the weather was a little gloomy so I’ll give it a pass, it was an enjoyable walk across.

My second day in Mandalay was pretty uneventful. We took a day trip to outdoor gardens and a waterfall but honestly I was too sick to enjoy it much. The real treat was in the evening. We drove up the large hill that overlooks the city and surrounding countryside, fittingly called Mandalay Hill, and the view from the top was really breathtaking. I was feeling much better by this time and so could actually enjoy the scenery. The city was on one side with the palace and world's largest book plainly visible, and on the other side stretched rice paddies and more distant hills that were just catching the setting sun at the time of our visit. This trip has really been testing my ability to fittingly describe great scenery, so just take a look at the pictures and judge for yourself.  

The (Monkey) King and I on Mount Popa

Due to a brief illness and unreliable internet access I’ve been unable to update this blog for the past few days, but now those problems are behind me so it’s time to get cracking again.

For my last day in Bagan, I made the two hour trip to the famed and revered Mout Popa. Mount Popa is a bit of a misnomer, because when most people, Burmese and foreigners alike, refer to the mountain, nine times out of ten they are referring to this:

  

Yea. That is the Popa Taungkalat monastery. Unbelievably picturesque and dramatic when viewed from any angle, the monastery sits atop an outcropping of the actual mountain. Anyone can go to the top, but there is no elevator and the view is not for the faint of heart. Although I was beginning to feel quite sick by the time we arrived at the base of the monastery, there was no way I was going to let that impede my experience having come so far to see it. Ultimately, the climb was tiring but not so horrible, and I reached the top without incident, save for some encounters with the monkeys.

 Before I go on, I’ll speak a bit on the monkeys. They are Macaques, and there are a lot of them. Making the climb up the monastery steps, you really get the feeling that you are inside an old Travel Channel documentary (before it turned into Food Network 2). We arrived early in the morning, before most of the European tourists had had their tea or croissants or whatever they do, so it was just us and the locals for the most part. The monkeys are everywhere, jumping around, begging for food, and in some cases grabbing onto you or trying to steal your belongings. It’s really an eclectic environment, but also an authentic experience to be sure.

Once I reached the top, I took a moment just to gather myself and enjoy the view before exploring the summit. There really isn’t much to see at the top, just the usual Buddha statues and collection boxes; the best part is the gorgeous scenery visible in all directions. The monkeys become fewer and farther between the higher you get, and at the top I found only one. He was large and looked old, and I theorized that perhaps only one monkey out of the lot of them gets the honor to sit at the top, and this particular monkey was the king. I had a chat with him about how I had figured this out, and then we posed for a picture together.

Back in Bagan, there were still a couple of things I had yet to examine. I took a closer look at the still-intact portions of the old city walls, and also toured the reconstructed version of the palace. Night was beginning to fall, so Anna and I took a pleasant ride in one of the many horse carts that weave through the monument zone, followed by a self-guided tour of some of the large pagodas that are lit up at night. It was an excellent way to spend my final night in Bagan, and satisfied that I had made the most of my stay I began looking forward to my trip to Mandalay the  next day.

Bagan!

Looking out over the Old City

I know I said in my last post that I would be visiting Naypyidaw, but due to some changes in our schedule we only spent the night in the capital city and left early Saturday morning for Bagan. I was fine with this as I will have time toward the tail end of my trip to go back and explore Naypyidaw, and more time in Bagan is nothing to complain about.

To sum it up, Bagan is one of the big reasons I decided to go through with this trip in the first place. A sprawling valley filled with over 2400 Buddhist pagodas, stupas, and other religious monuments mostly from the 10^th-13^th centuries, Bagan was once the capital of an ancient kingdom called Pagan, first to unify the peoples that more or less constitute modern Myanmar. Today, one can wonder through the fields exploring for days on end- big pagodas, small pagodas, brick, sandstone, white, gold, etc., etc. For someone like me Bagan is an absolute fairytale land with no equal. It is by far the greatest sight I have every laid eyes on.

We started off Saturday afternoon in New Bagan touring a lacquerware shop. Burmese lacquerware is famed the world over for the impeccable craftsmanship and attention to detail with which it is made, and after seeing the process for myself I can understand why. Most pieces were out of my price range but I picked up a few small boxes for some friends. From the shop it was on to the pagodas, starting off with a medium sized one containing much of the original mural work on its interior walls. The parts which did not survive had been chiseled off by a some German guy in the 1890s who had been kind enough to leave his signature behind on the wall just to make sure everyone would be clear on who took them.

In the opposite direction

Eventually after examining a few more specific Pagodas up close, we were taken by our guide to one with exterior stairs leading about 5 stories up, affording amazing view of the surrounding countryside. The thing that one must understand about Bagan, what makes it so amazing, is that the scenery of the place is already breathtaking without the pagodas. On both sides you have mountain ridges jutting up into the sky with sweeping plain in the foreground and the immense Irrawaddy River winding along beside. Whenst you add the grandeur of the monuments, the sight is just indescribable. There are literally more pagodas than you could possibly count. I had trouble framing photographs because there was always another wonder lurking right outside the frame that I wanted to include. You try and get it all in to capture the magnitude of the moment and there’s just no way. I could stand atop the highest peak taking photos until the cows come home (of which there are many in Bagan) and it still wouldn’t come close to actually being here. But I tried.

reflecting pool

a monk

We climbed to the top of this one

This morning, the wonders of Bagan were again the focus. This time without a guide initially, we went biking in the opposite direction from yesterday and made a circle around the far side of the monument zone. From there we simply went wondering and exploring amidst the ruins, eventually coming upon on of the larger and more weather-beaten stupas, which we were able to scale via an internal staircase. I doubt many will get this reference, but wandering around in Bagan is rather like the PlayStation 2 game Shadow of the Colossus. Ruins smattered haphazardly about, dramatic vistas in every directing with peaks looming off in the distance, capped by barely visible monuments of unknown origin. You can see the weather from miles off- clouds moving in and fading away, far off storms viewed like a naval battle miles out as seen from shore. The drama increased when we made our way to a recently built viewing tower. The immensity of the valley never ceases to amaze, and from even higher up the scene was even more impressive.

After lunch we again met with our guide, and were shown a rather interesting pagoda that was dug into the side of a cliff, apparently built for a king in need of a hiding place, and quite unique in Bagan. We went to what I would best term a palm farm, where the process by which the various properties of the palm tree are harvested and put to use, and then to a street fair. The day’s travels were concluded with a cruise along the Irrawaddy to view the sunset. The scenery from the river was nothing short of majestic, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the British must have though when setting eyes on all of those stone peaks emerging out of the brush. Probably something along the lines of ‘bloody hell we have hit the jackpot’. At any rate, a dip in the pool and some gin to close out the day and that’s what the past two days have looked like. I knew Bagan would be amazing, but seriously… no words…  

Journey to the North

This is just a quick update to explain what I'll be doing for the next five or so days. In about half an hour I'll be leaving to go to the Burmese capital of Naypyidaw, followed by old city of Bagan, Mandalay, and Inle Lake, all destinations that I will elaborate upon later. I'm not expecting great internet anywhere I go, so posts will probably be infrequent until I return. At any rate, here is a bit of information on Naypyidaw...

Named as the new capital city of Myanmar in 2005, Naypyidaw was more or less built from scratch in preparation for events that had yet to happen and people that had yet to arrive. The reason for the move from Yangon, like many other things in this country, is shrouded in a bit of mystery. Officially, the capital was moved due to the increasing congestion of Yangon. Naypyidaw is indeed in a far better location for a national capital due to its position near the center of the country. Rumor, however, was that the ruling military leaders foresaw a foreign invasion (possibly predicted by an astrologer), and sought to relocate the government to a more advantageous position than Yangon. At any rate, from what I understand the new capital is mostly complete, and here to stay.

What I am most interested in is to see how alive the city has become. Most reports from the capital by foreign journalist paint it as a ghost town, but many of those are not at all up to date, and it is my understanding that the city now boasts almost 1 million people and is one of the fastest growing in Asia. I've got to leave now, but let me make it perfectly clear that I am very excited to see Naypyidaw. It is one of the most obscure capital cities in the world, and for someone who obsesses over these types of things, this opportunity is priceless.

Graves, tombs, and an enormous Buddhist disco ball.

Disco Inferno

I awoke yesterday to a light rain, which slowly dissipated before we left the house to go visit the Sean Yaun Kyi Pagoda (which means diamond gleam). This pagoda, not especially famous or rich in history, was something I happened to spy off the side of the road a few days ago. It fascinated me because the entire exterior was made up of tiny mirrors instead of the typical gold, making for a somewhat spectacular effect. I have no real knowledge of the pagoda or insights into its significance, etc., I just though it looked cool so I made a stop. There was also a friendly cat prowling the grounds, which Anna and I took a moment to play with.

Pagoda Cat

The tomb

On the way to this disco ball pagoda I spotted another thing that sparked my interest and warranted a stop- an assortment of tombs on the side of the road leading from the great Shwedagon. There were four in total: one belonged to Saya Thakin Ko Taw Mhaing, a comrade of General Aung San, another to Khin Kyi, wife of Aung San and mother of Aung San Suu Kyi, a third to U Thant, former U.N. Secretary General, and the fourth, which made the stop wholly worth it for me, was the tomb of Supayalat, the last queen of Burma. I've always taken an interest in the end of monarchies and the inevitable claims and pretenders to the throne that follow, and so to stumble upon such a tomb was great luck. Supayalat seems to have been quite a force of personality, apparently butting in during her older sister's wedding ceremony in order to become queen in her place, and subsequently forcing monogamy on the king- completely unheard of in Burmese history. After the Third Anglo-Burmese War, she and her husband were forced to abdicate from their thrones in Mandalay to exile in India, where the kind died in 1916. She was allowed to return to Rangoon (as it was called then) in 1919, died in 1925, and was entombed where I'm standing in that picture, against her wishes to return to Mandalay. I wish they would take better care of the garden around the tombs, it's in quite a state of disrepair.

War Cemetery

The final stop for the day was to the War Cemetery, a slight drive to the north of Yangon. I didn't do my research before the trip, and so was surprised to find that the cemetery was the final resting place of mostly Englishmen, with more than a few Indians, mostly Sikhs, as well. Maintained by the Commonwealth War Grave Commission, as a placard at the entrance to the complex clearly states, the cemetery was probably the most beautiful, peaceful place that I've encountered in Burma and is meticulously maintained. Wikipedia spits out the statistics better than I can: "The cemetery contains the graves of 6,374 soldiers who died in the Second World War, the graves of 52 soldiers who died in Burma during the First World War, and memorial pillars (The Rangoon Memorial) with the names of over 27,000 Commonwealth soldiers who died in Burma during the Second World War but who have no known grave. There are 867 graves that contain the remains of unidentified soldiers." As I said, the place was genuinely beautiful, and for most of my stay we were alone to enjoy its calming effects. A really fitting resting place on foreign soil if there is one. 

After the War Cemetery we were to meet Anna's friends for dinner, but had time in between to take a ride on her driver's motorbike, which he kept at his home nearby. I'd never ridden before so it took me a few passes to get the gear shifting to a serviceable proficiency, after which Anna trustingly hopped on the back for a pleasant ride through the countryside, the locals a little taken aback by the sight. 

Posing