Myanmar Surprise!

September-October 2019

                   Welcome to Myanmar, the most surprising destination!

A map of Myanmar.  You can enlarge any photo by clicking on it!

We arrived by night in Yangon to a gracious welcome at the Yuzana Garden Hotel, an old British Colonial hotel nicely restored, set back from the street amid tropical greenery.  The breakfast buffet which featured mohinga, Myanmar's national dish of fish soup. 

The Yuzana Garden, an old hotel from the days of British Raj.
For an interesting, satirical glimpse of the lives of expats in prewar
Burma in the declining colonial era, read George Orwell's "Burmese Days"!

Mohinga, made from rich fish broth, to which you add noodles, peanuts, fried

corn, green onion, cilantro, sautéed cabbage and little dried minnows, if you like. 

First on our list of places to visit  was the famous golden Shwedagon Pagoda.  We approached up a wide covered stairway of polished stone, and with carved, coffered wooden ceilings, where merchants hawked and bantered good-naturedly.  Such interesting merchandise for sale.  

Captain Mike walking through the neighborhoods toward Shwedagon.

Approaching the pagoda via the covered walkway,
vendors selling all kinds of interesting things.

Coffered, hand-carved teak ceilings, paintings, ornate glass windows. Impressive!                     

Approaching the entrance of the pagoda, after enjoying
 seeing the vendors and their wares.

Shwedagon, meaning Golden Lion, was magnificent. People were praying,  meditating, sitting in the shade, chatting and snacking...the atmosphere is reverend, but playful and inclusive.

There were scores of chapels and hundreds of buddhas here.

Men applying gold leaf to the Buddhas, already lumpy with pounds of gold leaf.

The stunning golden stupa of Shwedagon,  "gold, everywhere the glint of gold".

There were scores of chapels.

Another Buddha, gilded by the hands of the faithful.

A man ringing a prayer bell.

A panorama of the temple.  It's hard to portray the magnificence of this place.

...and we were.

Myanmar ladies dress in colorful longkyis (pronounced "long jeez"), like sarongs, with closely-fitted coordinated tops, so pretty and graceful...and cool. Men wear them too, in plaid patterns.  We bought longkyis to wear and received smiles of approval from the locals.

Beautiful ladies in their longkis 

Mike shopping for a longki in his clan Tartan....and checking out the bras.

People walk with umbrellas against the intense sun. In the afternoon we strolled downtown and visited the tourist office, where the lady showed me how to prepare and apply thanaka, a traditional yellowish cosmetic paste commonly worn by both women and men.  It is a particular tree bark ground to powder on a slate pallet, mixed with some drops of water, and applied to your face or arms. It protects against the sun, is good for your skin, and is glamorous in local eyes.   

A wistful young waiter wearing thanaka.

  Click here to learn more cool stuff about Thanaka, from the Myanmar Times.

Old British colonial buildings still form the heart of old Yangon.  So very large that they are impossible to maintain, they are still in use, though in a state of benign neglect. We explored the colonial business district and walked back to the hotel through the neighborhoods, soaking up the sights and sounds as we went.

A distorted panoramic view of the Telegraph Building.
So large I had to use pano to shoot it.There are much larger ones, mammoths.

I love the greenery sprouting from the cracks in the facade!

Myanmar's Federal Courthouse, such exotic modern architecture. 

Probably the poshest restaurant we ate at in country. In old Yangon.

A passer by. I always ask if I can photograph people.

We visited the Botataung pagoda, filled with impressive golden and jeweled treasures. The walls and ceilings were covered with gold leaf.

At the pagoda, with shoulders and knees respectfully, if warmly, covered.

Mike inside the gilded chambers of Botataung Pagoda.

 The pagoda was damaged by WWII bombing, and during reconstruction, a golden shrine containing a Buddha hair was found entombed deep within the pagoda. Wealthy Burmese contributed money and riches to the reconstruction, and gold and jewels are everywhere. 

Gold, rubies, emeralds, precious jade, and other gems adorn the vane of the pagoda,
 along with a fist sized diamond finial at the very top.

In a a golden case the size of a rice grain, set within in a crystal, inside a
golden stupa-shaped casket, is the Buddha hair.

We were approached by an old man who turned out to be a sly and knowledgeable tourist guide. He showed us all around the pagoda grounds and introduced us to Myanmar Buddhism, explained about the Nats (more later), looked up the weekdays of our birth, and explained about the daily buddhas we should pray to (mine is Tuesday, avatar the Lion), showed us how to pour water on our daily Buddha and pray for our parents, ancestors, teachers, priests, the Buddha. 

Our guide tutoring me on Myanmar-style Buddhism 

Tuesday's lion is ..full of grace?!

Again we walked home stopping for a bite and a beer, going through different neighborhoods. 

I loved this old building,. So lived-in.

Walking down the side streets of Yangon.

A cheerful market lady. I asked her if it was OK to take the next photo, and she said yes...

....and his friends dissolved into gales of  laughter.  As friends do...!

We walked through a market on the way back....always bustling.

All sorts of pickled foods.

Look at the size of those prawns!

That night we took a taxi into a working-class neighborhood to see the Htwe Oo Myanmar Puppet Theater, an acclaimed cultural highlight. The owner invested his life savings into a professional theater venue, which failed due to economic and political circumstances, and so, his fortune gone, they continue to present shows in their home theater.  Marionettes swooped, capered, and even played the cymbals and percussion sticks in a 45 minute version of a six hour classical show of gods and princes, nats and ogres.  Pretty cool!  

                                           

                                                        U Twe introducing us to Burmese marionettes,
                               an ancient form of theater here.

  

After the show, I got to meet the puppets...and puppeteers.

We never would have found it without our driver.
This photo has been significantly lightened!

Next day we stopped by the tourist office where the helpful lady booked our bus tickets to Hpa An and applied some thanaka to my face.  We had tea at a little shop, then went on to Chaukhtatgyi Pagoda, a hangar-like metal roofed shed, which houses a huge reclining Buddha. He has glass eyes and is crowned with gold and gemstones.  Here I was approached by a friendly monk who showed me around and told me Buddhist stuff, but started to get a little too touchy and smiley, so finally I had to dash off to find Mike.  Later on, I learned from a helpful cab driver that there are imposter monks and nuns around, looking for handouts.  He was definitely one of them!

The over-familiar fake monk, head on my shoulder,  just before I took off!
A  real Buddhist monk will stand well away from any female.

 We walked on to nearby Ngahtatgyi Pagoda, home to a splendid and formidable Buddha in his spiritual battle regalia.  Sheltering him is a splendid coffered ceiling and wood-paneled wall, but the rest of the place is a little cheesy with loud music and flickering colored lights, a bit lacking in reverential atmosphere.  

Truly splendid!  Check out the wooden carving behind. He's three stories tall.
Yes, we are done with temples for now!

That evening we got spruced up and visited the Yangon Sailing Club; being Friday it was open to non-members. We were the only ones there, except for an interesting Aussie couple, born in Singapore and South Africa of British expat parents.  They were visiting places she remembered as a child. Her grandma was a Vice Commodore of the sailing club back before the war!

The Yangon Sailing Club boats...very different from a blue water cruiser!

Mike and I mugging at the sailing club.

The next day we traveled 12 hours by bus to Hpa An, in the southeast Kayin region and were the only westerners on board. It stops for lunch and restroom break for only 30 minutes,around noon. I ordered a truly delicious chicken noodle soup, but the bus started honking for us. I didn’t get to finish it, but managed to scarf some tasty chicken livers, which turn out to be a bus station favorite. Now we know the drill! As darkness fell we checked into the Golden Palace Hotel in Hpa An.

Beep  beep beeeeeeeeeeeep.

Early in the morning we went to climb the monolithic Mount Zwebagin, six hours of calf ripping step-climbing!  At the bottom of the mountain is a Buddha garden with over 1100 buddhas! 

Mount Zwebagin in the distance. The temple is on highest peak.  It's steep!

Some of the Buddhas in the garden at the foot of Mt. Zwebagin.

The portal to the three mile staircase.

It was a pretty climb through shady forest for the most part, but nonetheless we were streaming with sweat.  Met a cheerful monk and a fat lady, a water-bearer lugging a 5 gallon jerry can (~45 pounds) to the top, and some cheerful English speaking-guys who were working on the new Chinese-funded cable car system.  So glad we got here before cable car is completed. 

Day after day, alone on the hill,
the monk in the saffron robe is sitting perfectly still...
and smiling!

The Burmese cable car engineers. Nice guys, fluent in English.

Approaching the top, we climbed through the clouds.

Pictures do not capture how steep this climb was! Here comes Mike. 

Clothes saturated with sweat, sweat dripping from my hair.
We were the oldest climbers on the mountain today.

We chatted with a cheerful young English couple who came bounding past us, Gillian and Finn from Edinburgh, ex London. At the top, the temple looked neglected and no longer felt very holy, with only one grumpy monk in attendance. Litter cascaded down the mountainside, and clouds obscured the view.  A bucket-brigade of young people were moving marble paving stones for the facelift being done  in anticipation of increased tourism once the cable car is completed.

These young people are passing marble paving tiles in a bucket brigade.
 they galloped up the hill to do this at lunch break,
 had a bite to eat, and galloped down the hill again.

By the time we got back to the bottom, having climbed/descended nearly seven miles, we were both knackered and knew we’d be crippled for the next few days.  On the way home our driver recommended that we stop at the White Pagoda called Jai TeeYo, built on a top-heavy spire of limestone karst.

See the white pagoda on top of the limestone spire, swathed in greenery?

Footsore and tired as we were, we were glad we stopped. We were delighted at the beauty and tranquility. Monks were chanting in the pavilion across the lake, and swans glided across the water.

The monastery at the White Pagoda.  Here the monks were chanting.

We climbed as far as permitted and donated to the monk at prayer at the top landing.  Past where he sat, only monks were allowed to climb up, up, up a bamboo ladder up the face of the karst to the white temple at the top. Again we were the only westerners there.

Monks' laundry day.

View from the stairway up the stone spire.

Mike and his little buddy. When I asked Grandma if I could take their picture,
 she grabbed up her sunglasses and put on her hat  to be stylish.  Cute.

Yes, the next day our leg muscles were screaming.  We hired a tuktuk to take us to the Mahar Sadan Buddha caves, a long, enjoyable ride through timeless countryside of rice paddy fields, hay stacks, grazing bullocks, with Zwebagin and other karst mountains in the offing. 

Rice fields.

Workers planting rice.                             

We entered the cave, which was cool and shady with ferns, and walked past golden Buddhas into along a damp, slippery walkway through the cave where thousands of bats squeaked overhead. 

The entry to the cave.

The golden designs on the walls are formed by scores of tiny golden Buddhas.

A massive stalagmite, and the high-pitched whirring and clicking of bats.

Another mighty stalagmite, covered with delicate greenery
 since the sun shines briefly on it each day. 
It belongs to the mythical Elephant King.

At the other end the cave opened out onto a pretty lake. There we met Finn and Gillie again, and agreed to share a boat ride through another low cave into a quiet fishing lake and around to the front of the park. 

A stupa and the boats at the cave exit.  A delightful surprise.

The boats we'll ride in to go under the mountain.  See the black crevice?

Local boatmen and friends enjoying lunch at the food stalls near the cave exit.

Riding in the boat under the mountain....we will go through that little hole.

Fishermen on the other side, hauling in small fish on the tranquil lake by the cave.

The Monarch of the Glan in his clan tartan posing next to a local whiskey ad.

Enjoying the wind in our hair and the picturesque countryside on the way back, we were grateful not to be walking on our sore legs today. 

Later, at our host's recommendation,  we went to PC Spa, where $8 got us two glorious hours of expert massage.  We made a pact of courage; whoever groans or squeaks first loses. I think it was a draw! It helped to loosen up the knotted muscles. The next day, before leaving Hpa An, we explored the neighborhoods and enjoyed our encounters with local folk, including proud owners of fighting cocks, being lovingly groomed and hand fed.

Then the food poisoning set in. Not the worst, but on the 12 hour bus ride back to Yangon there were some dodgy moments. I felt pretty bad and slept most of the way, but got thru it, and made it back to Yangon for an overnight at our Yuzana Garden hotel, where by now, we are favored guests and old friends. Had ginger tea for dinner and watermelon juice for breakfast.

The next day was another daylong bus ride from Yangon to Mandalay. Still not feeling great but it’s under control with Imodium.  (This bug stayed with me for over a week, not resolved fully until Bagan).  At the 30-minute lunch stop this time, we couldn’t get anyone to wait on us, so I marched over to the boss man and ordered four steamed bao buns. We got them just in time, with surly service, and though they were good as bao goes, they were not the thing and we gave them to some backpacker girls who were also being ignored. Back on the bus and on to Mandalay. Thank goodness the Imodium was working.

The large cafeterias catering to long haul buses.
You get 30 minutes to order, be served and eat and use the restroom.

A bus station toilet. It was clean.  Squat, rinse yourself with the
water hose,, and flush with a dipper or two of water. Common
all over Asia and in parts of Europe too.  Natural, not objectionable...
 unless you have food poisoning!  Aim well.

We arrived by darkness at the Aurora Hotel. Front desk was staffed by friendly and super-courteous Tin-Tin (many Myanmar names are doubled, like Mike-Mike and Di-Di), who arranged for our bus and ferry tickets for the next several legs of the journey. This is the best way to book your tickets and it appears to be a standard service for hotels. 

I think Lonely Planet made too much of the bustle of  Mandalay; it's no busier than most SE Asian cities and there’s much to see. Due to the Thadingyut Festival of Light/end of Buddhist Lent, hotels and transport were booked solid and we were unable to get hotel and transport to spend the three days in each place as we had planned. We needed to be settled by the holiday weekend as all transport was full.  Tin Tin arranged our transport to Inle for the big weekend, and we would stay there 'til it was over to before we could go on to Bagan where we would spend six days.

The Aurora hotel, an island of serenity, sits smack in the middle of local markets, so we stepped out into the cheerful, colorful bustle of the morning market.

We got a tuktuk to the Mahamuni Paya, where the Buddha image, pillaged from India long ago, is supposed to be 2000 years old. Over the last century the original figure has been masked and embellished with gold, and gold leaf has been applied by the faithful such that Buddha is plump and knobby with lumps gold. 

Men applying gold leaf to the Buddha.

The image on the left was taken around 1930. The tons of gold have been applied since then.

Women may not approach the Buddha, but all the gold-applying action can be viewed on CCTV by the ladies in the outer hall. 

The vast surrounding colonnade is covered by gold leaf on top, and the column plinths are tiled with sheets of Burmese Jade contributed by wealthy patrons. Quite lovely. 

The colonnade is gilded, and the column bases are tiled
with precious Burmese jade.

Floors are polished and immaculate, the people relaxed and smiling; it is a active temple.  After, we sheltered from a downpour on a mercantile street, then walked to the Gold-Pounders' District, a few small lanes off a busy street. Following the rhythmic sound of pounding, we homed in on the artisans at work. The cheerful, muscular pounders joked good-naturedly about us among themselves and allowed us to watch and film them at work.

Gold is pounded membrane-thin; to touch it will coat your finger with a layer so thin that it will reveal your fingerprints in fine detail.  

On to the Jade Sellers district, where we watched the wheeling and dealing going on. All the sellers were ethnic Chinese, some displaying and bargaining their high quality jades remotely over Iphone buyers in China, who prize jade highly. 

Some Burmese merchants beckoned us in and showed us how they cut the jade and how the lilac colored stone glows vivid violet when backlit.  An interesting place.

Next day we climbed Mandalay Hill, which we found dirty and in disrepair. There were fake nuns along the way begging, and the shrines seemed a bit moth-eaten. At the top, a big staring monk statue seems to challenge  you at the foot of the Buddha!

Mike takes a drink from jugs of water left for travelers, with a coconut-shell dipper .

Giant monk.

 We hired a cab and went through the marble carving district, which featured lovely finished and unfinished works. 

These statues will be finished by the face-carving expert. Like Tele-Tubby Buddhas.

  We visited workshops where the handwoven longyis for which Mandalay is famous are made. 

On we went to the Teak Bridge in Amarapura, which is definitely a tourist destination for Myanmar people. We encountered a leper lady with hands and nose badly eroded by the disease, and a blind musician begging, seemingly from another century. Though begging, they were dignified.

A lame girl selling jade beads walked along with us for almost the whole time chatting. She spoke four languages fairly fluently, and was so engaging that we chatted along the length of the bridge. The bridge was crowded with Burmese tourists enjoying the holiday. 

The longest teak bridge in the world, built in the mid-1800's.

Vendors displayed attractive handicrafts and  heaps of seafood, fresh, dried and fried, but my food-poisoned body and Sanitarian's mind saw red flags everywhere.  Back in Mandalay, we searched out the famous Pan Cherry Noodle house for lunch. We followed the map to ground zero and still had to be directed to walk down an alley and behind the building to find it. 

Good noodle soup, bu the bus station soup en route to Hpa An was better!

Tin-Tin arranged for us to hire a private car to travel from Mandalay to Inle Lake in Shan province since nothing else was available. I appreciated having the opportunity to pull over if needed!  The big feast day, the full moon, was tomorrow. We wended through steep mountains with panoramic views, past a rushing river where holiday makers were taking boat rides and having family BBQ’s, people in elephant costumes danced along the roads.

Holiday dancers in elephant costume

Cool and comfortable in my longki, in the mountains of  Shan province.

Local people enjoying holiday picnics and boat rides on the mountain river.

We stopped for lunch at a coffee shop/café, where everyone had great food except us, having to order from the western menu.  We ended up ordering French fries... and receiving French fries.... served with a slab of cold "melted" American cheese on top, and drenched in condensed milk?! 

WTF....What's That, Fries????

I bought us two ears of corn on the way out, which it took five waitresses and the manager to produce while everyone around was munching away on corn. Not malice or indifference; I don’t think they knew what to do with us! 

Nearing Inle Lake, we stopped at the Blue Pool, a spring so blue that perhaps there was natural copper in it? 

Maybe blue due to naturally occurring copper compounds? No algae growing...

We stopped at the Buddha mountain at Pindaya, where my mates wanted me to just look from the bottom, but I galloped quickly up to the top. 

The temple at Pindaya.

I sprinted to the top and had a look before galloping back down to the car.

Then on to the truly spectacular Shwe Oo Min Pagoda Buddha Cave, a large complex of caves full of Buddhas, arranged in a maze inside the cave, and of all materials; marble, precious purple jade, concrete, gold. 

Inside the Buddha Cave, swarming with cheerful Buddhist Lent holidaymakers.

What a cool place!

Perhaps the most valuable piece, a two foot tall carving of high quality purple jade.

A chaotic shot overhead of Mike being swept between
rocks by the current of visitors.

The way down, free air at last!

Very crowded at this holiday time, but it was a friendly crush and no worries.  We arrived at last at the Grand Inle Hotel in Naungshwe, where they arranged a boat for us for tomorrow’s celebration of Thadingyut/Full moon/Buddhist Lent.

We rose early to meet our boatman in the lobby, and walk down to the canal where the longtails are waiting. The morning mist was quite chilly once we got underway. 

Setting out in the longtail boat in the dawn mist.

These teak boats are heavy and fast.

Passing the floating gardens of tomato plants, planted on thick drifts of lake reeds. Like a natural hydroponic garden.

We motored across the shallow lake for over an hour, past floating gardens of lush tomato plants, and broad stretches of shallow lake, to the village on stilts where traditional dragon-boats are paddled by 30 or 40 men using the traditional leg-rowing technique. The dragon-boats from different villages paraded past, some with drums on board, others with loudspeakers wailing traditional Burmese song or modern beats.  

 A village on stilts. The woven bamboo rectangles are some sort of holiday decoration.

Then came the golden pavilion boat bearing the Buddha, with dragons on the bows.   We had hoped to see the leg-rowing races, but instead motored down some pretty canals to more stilt villages, where we saw how they make rough yarn out of lotus stem fiber and weave it (and silk) into various attractive fabrics. Next to the silversmith, where I bought earrings for gifts. 

This young lady is tending a crucible of molten silver,
over a fire of coals with a big manual bellows.

 

White hot silver in a little clay pot.

Removing the crucible to pour the molten silver
into rod shaped molds.  The silver is then shaped by hammering.

The silversmith creating delicate silver jewelry.

On we went to Shwe Inthein Paya pagoda, with a long covered walk filled with vendors of cool stuff, like old lontar palm books, opium pipes, woven things, very attractively priced.  The pagoda hosts hundreds of stupas, endowed by patrons. 

Modeling the traditional Karen tribal “longneck” rings of brass.

The hundreds of stupas at the Inthein Temple.

We headed back to town as dusk descended over the lake, wending through some water villages, seeing the Buddha pavilion boat, it’s job complete, moored behind a stilt house. 

The Buddha’s golden barge.

The sun set and the mist rose over  the lake, and the white spray from the longtail boats stood out in the low gathering darkness.

The next dat we rode bikes from the hotel to ride out to see the sights and ran into Finn and Gillie again, also riding bikes. 

They suggested we visit the nearby the winery.  Pretty landscape of vines on hills, cool pavilions and we got there just in time to avoid a drenching downpour.  We sampled a flight of two reds, two whites, and they were just about what you would expect from tropical wine. After the ride, a torrential rain fell and we had pizza and a double helping of chocolate mousse at the French-run Asiatic Pizza, a fresh taste of western food after days and days of eating local.

The Red Mountain Winery near Inle Lake

It was another 10 hour bus ride from Inle Lake to Bagan. We are good at the 30 minute lunch stop now and I gt my order of chicken livers immediately. I was still using the Imodium, and the local squatter toilets can be tricky! 

At the bus stop cafeteria.

We had six days in Bagan after rearranging our concept due to the holiday. 
We stayed at the Bagan Riverside Hotel and my luxurious riverside room, paradoxically, thundered to life at 4am when the longtails fired up their loud 2-stroke engines! 

Sunset on the Irrawaddy, outside my window.

 It is a beautiful hotel, with 11th century ruins and pagodas on the manicured grounds. There were paradoxes though; the linens smelled of tropical funk and they came in to spray my room for mosquitoes every night.  Still, charming.  

The courtyard of the Bagan Riverside Hotel.  The enviable location was a result of
friendship between the owners and the generals who have controlled Myanmar.

First day we explored the pagoda and ruins and grounds of our hotel, then walked to nearby pagodas.

We found the little market district, stalls with tourist stuff and a little beer stall where we watched the Burmese tour buses offload crowds of local holiday makers. For three days we rented electric scooters and joyously hit the trail, looking at stupas and pagodas all day long. Bagan is famous for the multitudes of pagodas and stupas there, mostly built in the 10-12th centuries when it was Myanmar’s royal city.

Some were beautiful and serene, others ruined, many being over-restored due to earthquake damage and what they think tourists will want to see.  Burmese people are always so pleasant...smiles everywhere. 

When I waved, EVERYONE smiled and waved back!  Look at those faces.

We explored some neighborhoods and saw processions with decorated bullock carts and horses, with costumed children and adults in their finery.  The kids were entering into the monastery for 18 months or so, which is customary, and this was the celebratory feast.

Princess for a day on her borrowed pony.

Decorated bullock carts.

I think of this as the Dance of the Lab Assistants!

A beautiful goddess on a motor bike.

I seem to have accidentally captured a moment of family drama. Mother is ragging on
Daughter on her special day, Auntie looks on horrified, people in yellow
trying to pretend nothing is happening.  Poor kid. The nunnery will be a welcome break!

We stopped for lunch at a nice restaurant we reached by crossing a teak footbridge over a pond.  In really enjoyed the tea-leaf salad, one of the best local recipes I’d tasted so far. 

Lunch of delicious fried pork cubes, lentil soup and tea leaf salad.

We visited the enormous pagoda of  Dhammayangyi Pahto, (where the arm-chopping rock is still there for workers who didn’t work well enough). 

                                                             The impressive Dhammayangki Pahto pagoda.

Mike having a snooze inside the cool temple.

                                                                       The Arm Chopping block..gruesome.

We stopped by a village for a lunch, where the people were enterprising and showcased their traditions and lifestyle very appealingly. Our hostess, who ran the restaurant, put in the call so everyone would be at their stations as we came thru. First was grinding peanuts for the oil. 

The leftover pulp is used for food for humans and animals as well. She showed us how rice straw is manually chopped for animal feed.  We saw ladies weaving, and one elder lady spinning at a wheel. Her friends were making and puffing away on village cheroots of corn husks and a bit of tobacco.  

This lady was dignfied and charming, spinning cotton by hand.

Not their first day on the job.  She is holding a coconut shell ashtray while
smoking the corn husk cheroot.  We declined a puff...it was a bit harsh!

A little baby with thanaka painted face played in a bamboo cradle.  A lady worked a lathe shaping lacquered bamboo into containers for sale.  It was organic and charming, and quite impressive.  We learned a lot and had fun.

I awoke one morning to find a man plowing with oxen along the river bank in front of my window. He called out to his team just like my great grandpa did...”gee, haw” right, left.

The farmer plowing fertile river bottomland exposed by the falling river level.
Was the river level falling due to massive Chinese dam upstream??

We hired a tuktuk and went to see Mount Popa, home of the Nats and center of Nat veneration, which a pretty widespread. Nats are kind of like worldly saints, mortals who often met a bad end,  whom you ask for help with luck for gambling, money, etc. One has a bottle and a cigar and a big smile; he’s for gamblers and is popular. 

The Nats at Mount Popa.

On the way we went through pretty countryside. We passed a bullock cart and I got to stop and flirt with the driver. 

My new friend and his bullock cart. He admired my longkyi.

Our driver dropped us in town and we wended our way through the village to Mt. Popa.  We climbed up the covered stairway crowded with people, and watched out for monkey poo from the wild macaques who scavenge here. Along the stairs were shrines to the nats, festooned with money, flowers and fruit offerings, and people praying fervently amid the festive atmosphere. As usual, we met lots of smiling people, some who wanted selfies with us, and some whom I photographed; we all accommodated merrily.

We all posed for pictures. Nice ladies. Beautiful dresses.

  The top was full of flashing lights around the buddhas, kinda kitchy but fun. 

At the very top of the pagoda, a worker waves from the bamboo scaffolding.

Walking back down, a monkey snatched at Mike’s water bottle at the bottom. They can be cheeky, and also vicious; they are not my favorite animals.

Cheeky monkey drinking from a stolen water bottle.

On the last day we rode our scooters down to New Bagan, where we went to the riverside temple, jived with the market ladies (and got some little dried berries that are "good for your heart"), rode though a neighborhood seeing a boy doing his homework and an ABC poster hanging on the front porch; to a hotel where they were roasting a pig.

                              Wish we could have had that for dinner!

My last evening on the banks of the Irrawaddy .

The next day we collected our box-breakfasts from the hotel desk and boarded the ferry for Mandalay at 530 am. We walked across a wide teak gangplank onto the boat, while porters carried our bags on their heads.  Sun rose over the Irrawady, and we chugged along for 12 hours.

Sunrise on the river

A peek inside the wheelhouse.

This is how a barge is loaded in Myanmar. These are bags of cement.
Both men and women were loading.

The Irrawaddy is a mighty river, full of shifting shoals and powerful current rips.

Our fellow passengers were all westerners. We were all so used to being the only westerners around, and now here were 12 of us; there was a slight air of resentfulness that our unique status was ending.  But we all got over it and trip was a pleasant one. I encountered few Americans in Myanmar.

Back to the Aurora Hotel in Mandalay, we were excitedly welcomed back by TinTin. In the morning, we climbed back on the bus for Yangon and the Yuzana Garden. There were were welcome back as VIPS and were upgraded to the most expensive room suites...huge luxurious colonial style rooms! 

Our complimentary upgrade to Royal Imperial Super Deluxe!

The staff were so proud to show us to our rooms, and delighted to have us back. What a great ending to an extraordinary trip.  We arrived without expectation, not knowing what was in store.  Myanmar was filled with surprises ... the beauty of the landscape, richness of culture, and most of all the universal cheerfulness and friendliness of the people we encountered. 

The next day, we were off to the airport and back to Langkawi, to prepare for our voyage to the Andaman Islands.  

But that is another story!