Northern Myanmar

Tuesday, Sept. 6, Mandalay

The hotels want more money here than in Yangon. I got a decent room with a/c, hot water, and breakfast for $8 by bargaining. It was my second choice. The other place didn't want to bargain, and I didn't want to pay $12. I would have paid $10 if they had just come down to that, but I am happy where I am.

I guess I need to undress and sleep. It's been a long, miserable night with little rest. At first Mandalay seemed like a cooler place, but it was just the early morning hours. I can tell it is hot and humid now.

There were representatives from several guest houses at the bus station. They all lined up and held signs. It's a rule they must follow here. It's so much nicer than in Nepal or Thailand where they crowd around and shout. Unfortunately, none of the guest hoses were ones I had selected from my guidebook (although I recognized the names as being popular backpacker places).

One more thing before I forget it. They drive on the right here. But they import their used vehicles from Thailand and Japan, both countries that drive on the left. So the steering wheel is on the curb side of the road here rather than on the center-of-the-road side. Every driver here drives like postal workers do in the U.S. An aspect of that is that the exit door for buses is toward the road where vehicles are whizzing by. Another is that it is difficult for the driver to judge by looking to see if passing will be okay. (On buses, the driver's helper leans out the door and tells him when to start passing.)
_____
It's 1:30 p.m. After sleeping a couple of hours, I cleaned up and went out to explore and get water. I walked about 20 blocks. It's as hot and humid here as it was in Yangon, so being out at mid-day is a bad idea. I need to read until late afternoon and then go out. The problem is even worse here in Mandalay, because the shops cluster things on the sidewalks forcing people to walk in the street rather than in the shade next to the buildings.

I stopped for a dip of durian ice cream, since I hadn't eaten breakfast today. Durian is a large, bumpy looking, smelly, yet tasty, fruit. Most hotels have signs indicating guests cannot bring the fruit into their rooms because of the smell. The ice cream was delicious and refreshing and cost less than 20 cents for a dip. That's relatively expensive here, however, since most meals cost only about 50-75 cents.

My guidebook discussed several problems here in Mandalay--begging monks, touts, and child labor--and I've seen evidence of all of them already. The ice cream shop had children working there. They've received criticism for it in the guidebooks. My waiter was older (maybe 18-19), so maybe they now have older ones wait on tourists. But I saw ones about 12 years old waiting on local people. The touts were at the door of the hotel wanting to be my guide or my driver. One walked 1 1/2 blocks talking to me before he gave up. and the monks even use child labor. Two monks less than 10 years old approached me begging at the ice cream shop. It would be interesting to learn why they are monks at that age, what happens to the money they collect, and whether they get an education (and, if so, how much of one and what kind). (Note: I learned earlier than everyone becomes a monk for two weeks sometime when a child. Then they often become a monk again for a short period of time after they are an adult. So the ones who were begging lead a normal life most of the time.)
_____
This afternoon and evening, I had the kinds of experiences I enjoy the most as a tourist. None of it involved going to a recognized tourist site.

I left the hotel about 4 p.m. knowing the shaddows would be long enough to make walking tolerable. I began with 81st Street, walking down it 14 blocks to 40th Street. I just enjoyed saying hello to people and seeing how they live and work. I passed a movie theater, a Hindu temple and ldots of shops. I went west from there toward the river. I passed a school where the students had just been dismissed for the day and noted that the parents were there to collect their children just like in the U.S. I entered a neighborhood with people in their front yards. Like I've seen in Thailand, some of the houses had wooden platforms in the yard where people sit to visit and to watch life passing by. This was a neighborhood not used to tourists walking through it. The people were surprised and pleased, I think, to see me there. As usual, they seemed to appreciate a nod, a smile, and a hello.

I made a turn up a street along a canal. There were poorer people living there. The homes were small and had walls made from woven strips of bamboo. They seemed even more surprised to see a tourist and maybe a little suspicious of why I would be in their neighborhood.

I made a zigzag on the streets and came to the Thinga Yarzar Chong, a wide waterway that feeds into the Ayyarwaddy River. Immediately, some monks wanted to know why I was there. I told them I just wanted to walk along the waterway. I passed kids playing soccer, a father cutting the hair of each of his children, and monks bathing. I saw another monk standing on the pathway. He was looking at me and waiting. When I got to him, he told me he was arriving for his English class and asked if I would come inside and speak to them.

We went through a back storage room to a small classroom with a white board. Among other things written on it were, "He knows. I know. He would like to know. He knew. I didn't know." Etc. The class (about 6 women, 4 months, and 2-3 other guys) asked me questions, and I asked them questions. They served me green tea and took my photo. The teacher gave me a key chain with the name of his school and two small booklets he has published to use with the class. It had gotten dark, and I could hear thunder, so I needed to leave to walk the 20 blocks or so back to my hotel. They escorted me out the front door and oriented me to the right direction for returning to the hotel. I was back 45 minutes later, but I still saw more special things as I returned--a street carnival with rides, games, and foods; a night market with fruits, flowers, books, etc.; and most interesting of all, a family grieving over a dead body.

It was a home with a front yard platform like I mentioned above. They dhad laid the body of the woman, dressed beautifully and looking very natural, on the platform and had flowers and candles placed around her. The friends, neighbors, and family were on their knees around the platform grieving. It was much like families used to do in the U.S. when they placed the dead on a bed in the parlor. How lucky I felt to have happened on this to see it.

I walked two more blocks south of the hotel to a Persian beriyani restaurant. I had mutton kebab with biriyani--three small mutton meatballs served with a rice mixture that had cashews and shredded carrots. It also came with fresh mint leaves, fresh cucumber, pickled chutney, a mixture of dried shrimp with peppers, and a bowl of dark soup with potatoes. I drank a whole liter of water with it. The owner of the restaurant visited with me while I ate, explaining the food and talking about the hurricane in New Orleans.

How could I have had a better day? Tourist sites are interesting, but what I did was so much more fascinating than seeing some over-priced reconstruction of an old temple or palace!

Taxi 2000 kyat
Ice Cream 200
Water (2 l) 170
Dinner 1100
Hotel (1 N) $8.00
Total = $11.34