BAGAN, Myanmar -
The rising sun streaked a light blanket of fog with pink and yellow.
Suddenly, pagodas popped out from the mist, some grand and intricate,
others squat and modest, some crumbling, others glinting with gold - a
carousel of Buddhist temples amid fields of sesame, tamarind, and scrub.
If not for a monolithic redbrick silo in the middle of this scene,
you could almost imagine yourself in the 11th century, when the ancient
city of Bagan was home to the first kingdom of Burma.
But the silo, with an exclusive restaurant and viewing platform,
towers above the temples in the country now called Myanmar. The
structure was built in 2003 by a crony of the generals who have run
Myanmar for decades. The modern building is a major reason the ancient
temples were denied world heritage status by the United Nations.
This is the magic and folly of Myanmar. Closed off for years by a
repressive, corrupt military reign, much of the country seems lost in
time, truly untouched by signs of globalization like fast-food chains.
Women here still chalk their faces with thanaka, a paste made from tree bark. Men wear longyi, wraparound skirts knotted at the waist. Monks carry begging bowls through town in the early-morning ritual of seeking food.
But now that the government is opening Myanmar to the outside
world, tourists are rushing to experience the country before it changes.
While numbers remain small, they are increasing: about 260,000 arrivals
from January to October 2012 compared with 175,000 in the same period
in 2011. Tours frequently sell out and start-up airlines are sprouting.
Foreign cellphones won't work here and credit cards are rarely accepted
(though tourists can use Visa and MasterCard to change local currency at
private banks), but Western attire is now seen in cities and "O'Burma"
T-shirts showed up after President Obama's recent visit.
There's also a palpable sense of possibility and change, making it an
exciting time to visit. The Governor's Residence hotel in Yangon
recently set up a screen on the lawn for guests to watch Luc Besson's The Lady,
a film about Aung San Suu Kyi, the Nobel Peace Prize winner and
liberation heroine whom the government released in 2010 after 15 years
of house arrest. The film screening would have been unheard of two years
ago.
Barbed wire still tops the wall around Suu Kyi's home, a must
drive-by in Yangon, formerly Rangoon, Myanmar's capital until the
military built a new capital two hours away.
Yangon is also home to Myanmar's most sacred temple: the
320-foot-tall Shwedagon Pagoda, whose golden dome is visible throughout
much of the city. Its tiers are plated in gold, studded with diamonds,
and capped by an orb bearing 4,500 diamonds, with a single 76-carat
diamond on top.
Families and pilgrims spend the day at the pagoda spreading out rugs
and meals they've packed, alternately worshiping and chatting - the
social equivalent of parks and malls in the United States. The temple's
origins are said to date back 2,500 years, but it has been rebuilt over
the centuries, and is encircled by hundreds of smaller temples, shrines,
and pavilions. Halos on many Buddhas in smaller shrines bear flashing
electric lights, which are disliked by traditionalists but appeal to the
young.
While the Shwedagon is the star attraction in Yangon, the city's
colonial architecture is also notable. Crumbling and neglected, the
buildings nonetheless recall an era when Rangoon was a bustling port.
They represent one of the largest remaining examples of original British
colonial architecture. Advocates are pushing for their restoration but
critics fear they'll be replaced by high-rises.
Downtown Yangon is also home to sidewalk stalls selling tasty street
food, fresh-rolled leaves of betel nut to chew (which stains teeth and
sidewalks red), books, and phone service (not mobile phones, but land
lines you can rent to make calls). Pick up local handicrafts, a longyi,
or well-priced lacquerware and antiques at the sprawling British-era
Scott Market. Ubiquitous teahouses offer multiple choices of strength,
sweetness, and milkiness. During the most heinous periods of military
rule, the teahouses served as a pipeline of communication for activists,
journalists, and dissidents.
Not many Western tourists venture to Mandalay: It's flat, dusty, and
traffic-congested, despite the romance attached to its name. Even
Rudyard Kipling, who wrote the poem "On the Road to Mandalay," never
went there. But it's a vibrant commercial and internal transportation
hub. (Suu Kyi was recently spotted at the airport and wildly cheered.)
Mandalay also teems with monasteries and ancient culture, including
the Mahamyatmuni pagoda, which shelters the country's second-most-sacred
Buddha image, an enormous seated Buddha. Here, you can watch pilgrims
applying wisp-thin sheets of gold to the Buddha (something only men are
allowed to do). So much is applied that statues at some temples become
unrecognizable blobs of gold. As at the most-visited temples, colorful
craft and knickknack stands line the entry halls, the owners calling out
"ming-ga-la-ba" (welcome and hello) as you pass by.
At monasteries like Mahagandayone, you can witness the morning meal
procession. Access to the monasteries is so wide open throughout the
country that visitors can stroll through and see close up how the monks
live, from meal preparation to laundry. For shoppers, Mandalay is a
center for traditional crafts, including wood carving, silverware,
gold-leafing, and tapestries.
Southeast of Mandalay is Inle Lake, where members of the Intha ethnic
group use boats to tend their crops on floating gardens. Others fish in
small dugout boats, casting nets while using one leg to steer in a
Kabuki-like ballet. White egrets and birdsong are a constant, with the
occasional kingfisher, flamboyant in green and blue. Intha women, their
hair twined in scarves balanced atop their heads, sell produce in roving
markets that move among the villages. Hotels, shops, and restaurants on
stilts dot the lakesides. Getting around requires a launghle, a long motorized canoe.
How the opening up of Myanmar will affect its rich, unique culture
and traditions is an issue of much discussion, and a major reason for
the tourist stampede. "I had to come see the real Burma before it gets
spoiled," one Australian visitor said over breakfast as his fellow
travelers nodded.
Yet experts and local tour guides point out that what little has been
done to preserve and restore the ancient temples and sites has been at
best amateurish and at worst destructive. Even Suu Kyi has spoken out
about the faulty restorations, saying last year: "One cannot just go
about restoring the temples using modern material and without adhering
to the original styles."
Case in point: Hundreds of centuries-old, crumbling cone-shape temples called zedi
at Inndein, near Inle Lake, lean haphazardly, trees sprouting from
some. Local villagers speed their ruin by removing stones for use
elsewhere, including building new zedi.
"Every time I come here, there are fewer of them," said San San
Myint, a tour guide with a deep love of her country's history and
traditions. "It makes me so sad. I worry that one day they will be
gone."
source: Philly.com
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