Blogs

“I have a robe for you’. This short statement left me laughing and engaging with a gentle sense of humour that crossed politics and the equator. The line came from a monk in the precinct where the mighty Shwedagon Paya (Pagoda) gleams and beams across the city of Yangon.

We had been wandering around the centrepiece of Yangon being dazzled by the exemplary temples, buildings, animal statues and Buddha images – cleaned to within an inch of their many karmic lives. Lift your eyes and golden spires swirl above you, lower your eyes and small, feet are padding across the tiled outdoor floors. Small feet belonging to many maroon robed monks.

One of my travelling companions was very fair and has a nicely shaped head, denuded of all hair and polished to perfection.  We were chatting and noticed this smiling monk walk past us and he said the words to a fellow bald person! It took a micro second for the penny to drop – and that’s when the conversation began to flow. A good sense of humour will cross more than oceans!

This is Yangon (formerly Rangoon ‘meaning ‘end of strife’), the largest city in Myanmar (Burma), with a population of more than 4 million.

Rudyard Kipling once wrote ‘This is Burma, it is quite unlike any land you know about’ from his Letters from the East, 1989. And as Burma is now Myanmar it still retains that mystery. Burma was the backwater of the region, pressed between the Indian subcontinent and Indochina. The country used to have a romantic fascination as it sat in oblivion and romantic tales of the past until it came to the world’s notice when the charismatic Aung San Su Kyi began her struggle and fight with the military regime. The country’s isolation from the world shielded it from outside influences and visitors were rare.

Aung San Su Kyi was under house arrest for 15 years and was granted her freedom in November 2010. We took a bus ride around the city to see the sights and were driven down the street where her house stands. Before her release there were no trips down this street. Our guide quietly said, ‘please don’t take any pictures of the house, you won’t be in trouble but we will be’.

Although the people of Myanmar strain under the yoke of a tyrannical government, the locals we met in Yangon and in the surrounding countryside were inquisitive and eager to talk and be friends; they are gentle, humorous, kind and dignified. There was no talk of the government or complaints – for obvious reasons. Who knows what the future will bring for the Burmese, let’s hope freedom of choice and good fortune.

The city is not ultra commercial and is undeveloped compared to other cities in Myanmar. There are no skyscrapers just high rise ‘condos’. The newly built apartment blocks haven’t quite replaced the colonial houses in the city centre. Many colonial buildings are shabby and run-down, some cracking under the weight of neglect, which is a great shame as city retains some of the finest example of this type of architecture in Indochina . Apparently restoration can only come with private money and not via the government coffers.

The streets of Yangon are not yet crowded and crazy. There are more bicycles than cars and there are many crowded busses. And it took a while to realise but there was no honking of horns and the cacophony that that noise creates. There’s a US$50 fine for anyone honking a horn! And the irony of that is – it is illegal for the people of Yangon to possess American dollars! You are allowed to give three little toots in respect of the spirits as you pass the guardian spirits on the side of the road. Most vehicles have a bunch of fresh flowers or leaves tucked under the windscreen wipers to protect the driver and passengers.

Travelling on the roads in the city and out in the rural areas is not too bad, not too much traffic, except for the odd bullock and the roads are pretty badly pot-holed in some sections.

A time warp

Step back in time and there you are – Myanmar. Hardly anyone has a mobile phone and to buy one is very expensive and there are not many privately owned computers – internet cafes are the go! But the internet is intermittent with heavy censorship.

I found after a couple of internet, mobile phone deprivation anxiety ridden days that I was beginning to connect with the culture and way of life at a grass roots level. I waved and was waved at constantly; I watched so many young monks in and around the city that they were beginning to look like movie stars to me. I saw a line of people walk along a country road singing and dancing as they walked their children to the local temple to become novices; I saw a country steeped in Buddhism – every nook and cranny, physical and emotional was filled with the culture and traditions of Buddhism – the soul of Myanmar. Not something you engage in with an ‘app’.

Despite the odd sighting of a few young people wearing jeans, most folk are very modest in their dress. Men and women are graceful in sarongs – men’s knee length and women’s ankle length.

And the first time I saw someone’s face with the cream coloured swipe across the cheeks I thought there was a skin problem happening. But then everyone was decorated. All Myanmar women love ‘thanakha’, the traditional make-up unique to Myanmar. It’s a yellowish-white coating wiped across the face to enhance the wearers beauty.

If a woman wears thanakha her beauty if not affected by sweating in the heat, she is not sun-burned and it tightens the pores and prevents wrinkles caused by the sun. Women labourers apply thick layers of thanakha to work in the paddy fields. Thanakha is obtained by grinding thanakha tree bark on a flat, smooth stone with a few drops of water. It is thought that this tradition of paste face painting began more than 2000 years ago as mentioned in ancient lyric poems and songs.

As we travelled outside the city towards the coast (a five hour drive away) we saw many faces turned up to us and smiling with the thanakha stripes across their cheeks.

Once we passed the city limits, homes varied in states of poverty. Some, in good repair but many bamboo and raffia shelters that were housing families stood crooked and forlorn teetering by the roadside. There weren’t many ports of call along the road as most people here are too poor to make road house stops and we found only one that served food and cold drinks and provided good toilets.  Towards the coast the landscape became a bit hilly and the road winding. The hills were bare of trees and a scrubby view was all we had for a few kilometres.

Then we came to the coast, to Ngwe Saung, passing through a village that was in a time warp – it could be 200 years ago! We checked into a lovely resort that stood alone along the coastline on the edge of the Bay of Bengal. I tried to imagine what this coastline would look like in 10 years time. It is a perfect, idyllic holiday destination – still undiscovered.

We visited a local village that had a little market and shy villagers striking up tentative conversations and we headed into the bush for an elephant ride. Rocking and rolling, the local elephants gave us punters a run for our money!

After a couple of relaxing days on the coast the long drive back revealed how the rural workers operated on a daily basis – hard! From dawn to dusk, all work in the fields is done manually – backbreaking toil.

And in the city markets, the result of that hard work was on stalls. Beautiful produce, piled high and fresh and cheap. The Bogyoke Market is where most of the Myanmar souvenirs can be purchased. The markets are clean, and not so crowded that you can’t move, the stall owners don’t hassle you and doing business there doesn’t entail hard core bargaining. Beautiful lacquer wear and jewellery plus, textiles and antiques are the highlights.

But the real highlight of Yangon is the privilege of just being there seeing the sun go down and the Shwedagon Temple turn from gold to burnished red. Feel the goodwill surround you from the Myanmar people and to enjoy the switch in this precinct from spiritual to switched on disco Buddha’s with the flashing neon of enlightenment winking at oppression and maybe sticking it to the bad guys.

Getting there: Vietnam Airlines flies to Yangon from Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi. Vietnam Airlines flies out of Australia daily to connect with flights to Myanmar.

Visit: www.vietnamair.com.vn

Stay at: Chatrium Hotel Yangon, lovely staff, good rooms and excellent restaurant.

Visit: www.chatriumhotelyangon.com

TIP: Spend money there – BUT – spend it with the street vendors, the little stalls and individuals. At least some of your money will stay out of the government’s hands.

You need a visa for Myanmar, ask your travel agent for details.