Tuesday 14 January 2014

Myanmar shows off its soft side

On the banks of Kandawgyi Lake in central Yangon, couples sat for picnics or walked slowly with gentlemen holding umbrellas to shield the ladies from the sun. Except for the palm trees and the sight of Karaweik Hall across the water it resembled a scene from Monet. Elsewhere, couples could be seen holding hands near the Sule Pagoda and a pair of lovebirds let me capture them embracing at Yangon Central Railway Station.

These public scenes were surprisingly tender and romantic _ words that don't immediately spring to mind when you think of Myanmar.

The glittering gold peaks of the Shwedagon Pagoda? Astonishing. The serene Irrawaddy River? Undimmed and clear. The breathtaking Kyaiktiyo Pagoda for the hearty pilgrimage of Buddhists? As sacred as ever. The modern capital of Nay Pyi Taw? Fascinating.

Those are the postcard perfect images of Myanmar we have become used to as the country goes about rebranding itself after years of military dictatorship. But during a visit to the captivating former capital Yangon, we saw a softer, more human side to the city.

As we arrived, we wondered whether Yangon would be anything like what we know from history books or travel magazines _ the charm of a unique lifestyle that has come about from the blending of cultures. We stayed at The Mother Land Hotel, located in suburban Yangon, 30 minutes away from Sule Pagoda. The pagoda, to me, serves as a smaller-scale equivalent to Bangkok's Victory Monument roundabout _ from that central location, everything within a walking distance is interesting.

We were very excited to see Shwedagon Pagoda for the first time, but as impressive as the towering golden spire is, the active and friendly local people who live and work around it make the place more memorable. The locals come to the temple for merit-making and meditation. Many young couples hold hands while taking a stroll.

''We come here every day,'' said a woman with thick thanaka paste (a local cosmetic) on her face.

Who wouldn't? I couldn't help feeling calm, and nostalgic in a way as it was easily to imagine how life would have been in Bangkok for my grandparents' generation.

Across from Shwedagon Pagoda, we found a small amusement park called Happy World. We were surprised to see several monks inside. In Thailand, monks typically seek solitude and shy away from the secular world. But in Yangon no one was shocked that monks come into amusement parks to play. Monks in Myanmar are known throughout the world for being more politically active and engaged with society, but it was still good to see them so liberated.

Outside the park, we saw many Myanmar lovebirds. Some sat on park benches holding hands. Some walked with an arm around their loved one's shoulders. The openly affectionate gestures seem normal here, whereas in Bangkok that can be taken as inappropriate in public.

In the afternoon we took the Circle Line train, a three-hour ride around the city for only US$1 (33 baht). We chose to ride in a carriage with the locals but the conductor asked us to sit with the tourists instead. I preferred sitting with the residents, so as soon as he left I snuck back to where I was. I bought ripe betel nuts from a vendor and gave one a try. It tasted funny in my mouth, raw, harsh and bitter. I had to spit it out and drink water right away. I wondered how they chew on it for so long.

The train stops at every station, and along with everyone carrying fruit and vegetables we got off at Danyingon market. No other tourists walked into the lively market, so people stared at us. It looked pretty much like fresh markets in Thailand except there were many more flowers vendors because people there use them every day to make merit.

On the final day in Yangon, we woke up very early and took a walk around. People there are early birds: Life begins at dawn when monks receive offerings from door to door. We took photos all the way from our hotel to a makeshift temple, actually a shophouse. We met with a Malaysian man named Ming who has been helping around at the temple for a few months.

Ming invited us to have breakfast here and then took us to Tha Bar Wa Centres, founded by Sayadaw U Ottamasara, an hour's drive outside Yangon. The centres consist of temporary shelters for the elderly, alcoholics, HIV-infected patients and the homeless. There is also a small school and a dhamma practice pavilion inside the compound.

We were all packed up and ready to leave Yangon but with a couple of hours before our flight we decided to wander across to Pansodan Ferry Terminal.

The light, cool breeze from the river was soothing as the reflection of the sunset shimmered in the relatively calm water. The pier was a little crowded late in the afternoon. We walked towards the old dock where unused boats are kept. A young man, who was running around with several younger children, greeted us in fluent English.

''Hello. Where are you from?''

''Thailand. What's your name?'' I asked him back in rather embarrassingly broken English.

''Jurtu. Come with me,'' he nodded and smiled broadly. The 17-year-old dark-skinned waif took us to his secret playground where he and his friends hang out _ a rusty metal frame leaning over the dock, looking for all the world like a giant fishing net. He hopped on with the agility of an acrobat and laughed, oblivious to the possibility of falling into the water.

I asked why his English was so good. He smiled again and pulled an English-Myanmar dictionary from his pocket. ''I learn from this book.'' He seemed proud yet suddenly shy.

It was time for us to go. Jurtu walked us back to the pier. On the way, he pointed at a large paper box. ''That's where I sleep.''

I was stunned but before I could say anything, he said, ''I want to give you my dictionary. Don't worry I have two.''

''Goodbye,'' he waved with a broad smile and ran back to the old dock, leaving me standing there.

source: Bangkok Post

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...