In Bagan

Our guide Aung was waiting for us after lunch, ready to show us more of what we’d really come to see: some of the 2000+ temples and pagodas here in Bagan.  There are only nineteen of us on board the Ananda and two guides, so Aung has just nine of us to manage.

Our first stop was the Htilominio Paya where Aung pointed out some of the wall paintings.  It had been constructed in the 13th century from brick which a plaster covering.

In places, the plaster had fallen off, leaving those fragments of the wall paintings I like so much.

In addition to the Buddhas painted on the walls,

there are, in the centre, four enormous statues facing the points of the compass.  Lengthy explanations have been offered by Aung regarding the significance of the various positions of hands, feet and so on but my attention has usually been focused elsewhere, I’m afraid.

because these places are just so visually appealing!

Outside, we admire the other particular features of this temple, the stucco work.

Extraordinarily detailed, the light of the late afternoon was perfect to pick out every last detail.

As we stood taking photographs, business was rather slow in the marketplace behind us.  One or two salesladies gave a half hearted attempt to sell us a souvenir or two, but retreated into the shade of their stall when it was clear we weren’t interested.

One thing which has interested us is the Burmese script.  Consisting of an alphabet of 33 characters, the curves and circular form of each letter makes for quite an attractive style, I think. 

Our next stop was at the Ananda Paya, 11th century and after which our boat is named.  Our guidebook waxes lyrical about particular aspects of the architecture.

Another unrivalled shopping opportunity lined the pathway into the temple but again, we passed them by and focused on the temple.

The first feature we came across was a pile of money.  There in the main thoroughfare was a fenced off flat pedestal around a metre and a half in diameter, upon which was heaped banknotes of all descriptions.  I caught the edge of it in the photo above.  The buddhas in this temple were stunning and each one was flanked by two guardians.

The three buddhas we saw were standing and cloaked in attractive robes, the like of which we’d not seen before.

Two of the four buddhas are original and two are replacements but I’m sorry to say I don’t know which is which.  i was not being the model tourist, my excuse being that I have been up since 3.30am this morning!

Here, there were more wall paintings and Aung pointed out the way the natural light falls on the interior of the Ananda temple – one of the things which makes it special.

This light made the inside of the temple so photogenic – which could explain why I wasn’t paying attention to Aung’s commentary!

The fourth and final Buddha was undergoing restoration by a team from India.  They were setting up the bamboo scaffold, working high up there near the ceiling this afternoon.

Outside, more cleaning and restoration was going on and the upper surfaces of the temple were markedly lighter in colour than the lower ones. 

But it was time to go.  Time to move on to the last activity of the afternoon, because we had one fixed appointment with the sunset later.  Before that, though, Aung was keen to show us around a small village, to give us an insight to everyday life here.

The large CocaCola and telecom signs reveal how swiftly life is changing here but the fundamental lifestyle is the same now as it has been for generations.

The first building on the village boundary was the equivalent of the Parish Office, the place where the head of the village was to be found and where, not so long ago, people would be expected to report disloyal or disruptive behaviour of those around them.  Aung explained how the number of mobile phones were restricted so that communication was tricky but now they are more widespread and as a result there is a far greater freedom of thought and expression.

At the entrance to the village were a couple of artesian wells.  In this dry region, water is precious and at particular times of the year, difficult to acquire.

In the first house we passed, a woman was starting a small fire in her outdoor kitchen.  Behind her were a few pots and pans and one or two essentials were tucked into the woven bamboo wall.

Just across the dry and dusty path were the neighbours – the ground here is sandy and it’s hard to imagine how those living in the village can keep anything clean without a plentiful supply of water.

Aung pointed out the satellite dishes on almost every house – orange being for subscribers to the cheaper, Chinese based company, and blue for the more affluent, who chose to subscribe to SkyTV.  He explained that in most two storey homes, parents live upstairs.

Meanwhile, the occasional clang of a bell alerted us to a group of young men collecting alms for the local monastery. 

The basic structure of the houses was made of bamboo. The walls were woven, the roof created from small “tiles” and the floor was wooden boards nailed the the wood or bamboo structure.  We stopped by this open platform to hear Aung explain its purpose.  Someone from the village would be delegated each night to sit and stay awake as a watchman, particularly keeping watch for fire.  In this dry and dusty landscape where water is in such short supply, fire is an ever present concern and there, hanging underneath the platform is a piece of cast iron, ready to be struck with a metal hammer (hidden from mischievous children’s view!) as the alarm.  Meanwhile, the platform was a meeting place, somewhere to sit and chat in the evening – and for small boys to try to attract the attention of passing foreigners.

Having just spoken about fire precautions, we began to notice that every house had a couple of long bamboo tools by the fence – a beater for putting out flames and a hook, to pull off a burning roof.  Oh my.   Doesn’t bear thinking about.

Whilst we pondered our good fortune to live where and how we do, Aung was looking at his watch.  Half an hour to sunset – we’d better get going.

Up before dawn

We are both at sixes and sevens regarding what day it is and whether it’s morning, noon or nighttime.  Today’s travel arrangements did nothing at all to alleviate that as a 6am flight demanded a 4.30am pick up from our hotel, and that meant a 3.30am alarm.  I slept very little but needless to say was asleep when the alarm went off.  We packed our bags, collected our boxed breakfast and met Sanda to drive to the airport.  Since there were several flights leaving around the same time, it was a busy place at 5am this morning.

We said goodbye to her for now – she’ll meet us in Mandalay – and waited by gate 4 for our plane to board.

It was a small to medium turbo prop and around half full for the hour and a bit flight to Bagan.  Some were going on further, though most seemed to be getting off with us. 

We had a breakfast tray with a fruit salad and a couple of pastries.  The cake was a little dry, like a Victoria Sandwich without the jam, and what I thought was a croissant turned out to have meatpaste in the middle.  Odd, that.

We thought we were to sample another oddity when the cabin steward handed around some sweets by the name of “Pizza Candy”.  Well, you never know, do you?  I spotted mine had the magic word “mango” on it and sure enough, the only pizza characteristic was that it was shaped like a triangular slice of pizza.

Unfortunately the journey time wasn’t long enough to sleep and we were soon coming into land over a dry and dusty landscape.

As we made our way into the terminal building, we eyed those suitcases. Were our two amongst them?  If they were, then please, don’t mix them up with those which are being loaded for the next leg.

There was no need to worry.  After a short wait, a young man appeared carrying our two suitcases and calling our name.  He handed them over personally, checking the baggage receipt against the number on the label.  I guess there were days when baggage handling used to be like this everywhere?

It took little more than ten minutes to reach the riverside and our home for the next three nights.  Before we could turn around, our cases were gone from the boot and we were following after the two gentlemen who had swung them onto their shoulders like they were weightless (mine isn’t!)

The neighbours were going about their business as usual, meanwhile.

It’s now a little past 7.30am, though it feels like lunchtime.  Our room isn’t quite ready, so we hang around in the bar for a while and take the opportunity to look around before anyone else arrives.

As well as the comfortable bar, with rather interesting cushions on each chair, there’s a pleasant sun deck outdoors.

There’s a very small swimming pool too!  (Did you say you’ve seen bigger bathtubs?   Surely not!!)

The whole ship is elegantly furnished and very peaceful.  There’s interesting passing traffic, too.

Meanwhile, a few others have come on board, we’ve met the manager, Tim, and settled into our room nicely.  At nine, we go to reception as suggested and head on out with the guide, Aung, to explore a temple and to visit a lacquer workshop.

As we drive through the small town of Bagan, we remark on how different this is from Yangon.  The rapid developments haven’t quite reached here yet, though it won’t be long, I’m sure.

The whole countryside around here is littered with stupas,  Some are really small but others, well…

The Shwezigon pagoda was very much like the Shwedigon pagoda in Yangon (not only in name) and once more we were walking around open mouthed and wondering just what the best photograph could be to capture the magnificence of the place.  Unfortunately, we were without our Sanda, who would have explained things so clearly and given us a first class background to it all, but never mind.  We listened hard to Aung, our guide from the Ananda, who did his best against a little competition as his group got to know one another.

Those stones were pretty hot on which to walk barefoot and so we did our best to hurry from one cool spot to the next, having learned from Sanda that the white tiles were the coolest to stand on.

Once again, we needed to be reminded to look at the entrance hall and not focus completely on the Buddha; there is always so much to see here.

Some had come by horse and cart – yes indeed, life here in Bagan is very different from Yangon.

Our next stop was a lacquer workshop and one of those places we don’t enter willingly but are generally taken by some tour or other.  This one wasn’t too much of a hard sell and was genuinely interesting.  The young man making the coiled bamboo framework which was to be the foundation for the lacquer process was keen to show us the principles and we were a willing audience.  He was very skilled.

In fact, watching the young men and women complete the various stages of a fine piece of lacquerwork was key to understanding why this is a pricey and very time consuming business.  I watched this particular young woman and marvelled at how she could sit like that for any length of time!

A great deal of skill was needed to refine the design ready for gilding and this team of women were completing the finer points of the pattern.  Each one was using a pencil-style tool to scratch the design and had a small stone on hand to maintain the sharp point.

Whilst they were working on that aspect of the design, across the way, another woman was carefully applying a layer of lacquer to an object using her fingers.

It’s a messy business isn’t it – and some of the items have more than fifteen layers of lacquer applied, which explains why the best pieces are so expensive.

In between each layer, in this workshop the items are placed into the temperature and humidity controlled cellar, which we were able to see from the top of the stairs.

The finished objects were on sale – now there’s a surprise – in the shop adjacent to the workshop.  I really liked this arrangement of cups on the stand by the till and much preferred them to the more elaborate items further in.

We weren’t really interested in making a purchase but were pleased to look around and admire the fine craftsmanship on view.  I appreciated the arrangements of the shapes too, for after all, we don’t always have to bring one of everything back home with us, do we?

Having finished there, it was lunchtime and time to return to the boat which was anchored on the riverside.  As we did, we said hello to the neighbours again, who were hard at work as always.

We’ll continue the story of the afternoon and evening will continue in the next post.

and finally, in Yangon today

Where were we?  Oh yes, in the market, when Sanda, our guide was feeling peckish as we passed this snack stall.  What she bought, we have no idea, but it was tasty and just that right balance between savoury and sweet.

Maybe you know what it is?

The way out was through the shoe department. No, not really our place today but we know of several who would have been interested…

There was plenty of choice, to match any outfit!

The next stall put diamonds on the soles of my shoes!  The whole floor was glittering with sparkles.

A giggle came from the pretty young woman who was decanting sequins into smaller packages and spilling them onto the floor.  Clearly she’d been doing this for a while!

There was also the unmistakeable buzz of a sewing machine coming from next door.  Good old trustworthy Singers going at full speed, creating matching tops to those longyi the ladies had been buying.

Of interest to me too was the little red machine, because I couldn’t quite work out what it was until I spotted the blue waste there underneath it.  It’s an industrial serger/overlocker.

Out onto the pavement then, to meet Dan somewhere along here, past the vegetable stalls

another one selling those kinds of things that blokes buy.

And three puppies for sale in a basket.

Oh, and the inevitable cafe, too.

We jumped in the car and sped off into the next traffic jam just yards away and made our very slow way to the National museum.  Difficult to blog about that because no photos were allowed – no cameras or cellphones allowed anywhere near the place, actually, but suffice to say that considering it’s a new structure the inside is pretty dull and dusty.  And since we’ll see many of the exhibits for real in the next few days, we didn’t stay long.  What we did see though, is the regalia worn by the 19th century queen – wow.  Rather like those puppets we saw earlier, the costumes were created from small articulated pieces, each edged and trimmed with bright sequins in spite of the age.  Beautiful, original and totally unlike anything I’ve seen before, at some point I’ll find a photograph to share – for my own records actually, because although I tried to draw them I didn’t really do them justice.

After an hour back at the hotel, were we waited for the heat to go, we met Sanda and Dan again and made the last visit of the day to the Shwedagon Pagoda as the sun was setting.

No shoes, no spaghetti blouses…

Thankfully, cool tiles to walk upon.

The first greeting was the “Tuesday people”, volunteers, born on a Tuesday who took turns to clean the grounds.  Tomorrow, it’ll be the Wednesday team and so on.

This enormous pagoda is the highlight of Yangon’s temples.  It contains three relics, though we saw none.  What we did see – and photograph – is the most glorious golden structure imaginable, set off by the fading light as the sun set.

Magical.

We took picture after picture, wanting to treasure those lovely shapes forever.

Eventually, it was time to go.

Oh go on then…just one more

Dinner at the hotel was an all Burmese affair.  Absolutely delicious but bearing in mind we have to be ready at 4.30am tomorrow morning for a 6am flight, we didn’t linger.

Travelling like this is not for cissies, that’s for certain!

The second Burmese word is…

Kzeh-zu ba .  Thank you.

Believe me, we felt thankful when we reached the other side of that road, having stood for several minutes in the middle of a six lane highway where the traffic might not have been moving as fast as it could have been, but the lack of strict driving standards meant we needed to be our guard.  I stood “downroad” of Dan, our driver, who knew what he was doing and had surely done this a few times before.

Our next stop was a temple – the Sule pagoda, the first of a series of such buildings we’re scheduled to visit in the next few days.  Here, the claim to fame was a few strands of Buddha’s hair, set within the gilded heart of the pagoda itself.

Sanda took us straight to it, through a labyrinth of triangular passageways which form the eight compass points around the central reliquary.  There were plenty of other pilgrims including people who had travelled for a considerable time to be here, so I felt pretty awkward taking up their valuable space when for me, it was a simple sightseeing expedition.  So, we hung back a little, did our best to explain that though we appreciated the significance of the relic, surely these people deserved to be there so much more than we did.

But it’s a fine line to tread.  We didn’t want to be disrespectful to Sanda, or to let her think that we were dismissive of this potential highlight of the tour, so we simply went with the flow and made sure those who were clearly excited to reach their goal were able to do so without a couple of foreigners getting in their way.

So this is as close as we got.  For sure, the Buddha’s hair is in there somewhere, but this isn’t a photo of it, I’m fairly certain.

Instead, we majored on the golden rooms, walking around each one in turn and feeling like we were walking in a straight line when we were actually walking around the eight compass points and making our way through identical spaces until we reached the place where we’d started.

We made our way through the glass mosaic entrance hall and out through the side door to a kind of garden, where there were ponds with turtles to feed.

People were throwing shredded lettuce in there faster than the turtles could eat it and surely, by the end of the day someone would need to sift some of it out again.

Though actually, the main goal for most of these visitors was the statue of the temple God at the end of the pathway, which seemed to be particularly important to the Thai visitors who were here in number.

Again, we hung back giving them a chance to make their offerings and giving me a chance to take one or two quiet photos of the goings on.  Most of it appeared to be cellphone based activity!

In the queue, people were perusing their collections of selfies taken at the temple and taking more of themselves and their friends.

Some were about to make their offering but appeared to be interrupted.

Others were taking a break to catch up on Facebook, perhaps?

Whilst others were possibly neglecting their duties, distracted by the ever present temptation to play a game, listen to music or watch the latest Bruce Lee video (actually, that was the elevator operator in the last temple we visited this afternoon!)

In the meantime, the crowds had cleared and we were able to get a clear view of the statue they’d come to see.  We could also see how they folded a note (dollar bill?) into a conical shape around what looked like a eucalyptus leaf and then slotted it inside the notes which were already there between the God’s fingers.  Having made their prayer, they retrieved the now blessed leaf and took a few more photographs.

Oh, and discarded any surplus material into the bin alongside.

In the same space on the opposite side of the pagoda was another, smaller structure with smaller temples around it focussed on the days of the week.  Today being Tuesday, those born on a Tuesday would attend and make an offering at their particular little temple.

I was born on a Sunday, so I took an interest in that particular corner of the yard.

We took a quick look inside the hall opposite where another statue of buddha sat overlooking a large carpeted area, his head surrounded by a halo of multicoloured neon lights, but by now, we were ready to move on.  It was getting pretty hot by now so we stepped very carefully, barefoot, across the tiled spaces and out to the car where we’d left our shoes.

Our next stop involved a drive across the city and several traffic jams too.  One of the jams was around a high school where students had been sitting one of their final exams this morning.  Supportive parents were waiting outside for their offspring who milled around in white and green school uniform, looking relieved.

The traffic jams were endless.  Dan must have used every gram of patience as we sat for ages waiting for something to move.  Eventually, we reached the Botataung Pagoda, our next stop.

Not really a pagoda at all but an enormous shed set in a monastery complex, build to house the huge reclining buddha you see above.  The Buddha is made of bricks and plaster and has glass eyes.  He’s also got birds nesting in his nostrils!

Beautifully made and rather elegant in form, the figure is too big to do justice in a photograph really.  He’s wearing eyeshadow and has painted nails and lipstick too, not to mention the most beautifully shaped and decorated robes.

The folds of the “fabric” are so well shaped that it’s difficult to believe it’s only plaster underneath that gold paint.

The border of the robe is created from a glass mosaic – lovely.

But what we’ve never seen before are the soles of his feet.  Never have we realised that he has such a significant footprint, that the symbols are all set out in a particular format and can be interpreted too.

Anyway, having seen the reclining Buddha from head to toe, it was time to move on.

Our next stop was the market – formerly known as Scotts Market, it’s now called Bogyoke Market and finding ourselves in yet another jam, Dan let us out in the middle of the road and we walked the last stretch.

It was a bright and airy space, without the aroma of fresh meat and fish to give it that unmentionable atmosphere.  Here was jade a-plenty, gold, lacquer ware and…

 

underwear!

No, come on…we carried straight on past all of that and cut to the chase that was the fabric!  first, Sanda took us to see fabric woven by the Chin people in the far west of the country.  They weave using cotton, so the resultant fabric is quite heavy and warm.  It’s also patterned on one side but plain on the other.  Clever, eh?

We have some cushions in our room made from such fabric.  It’s attractive and distinctive but not really what I was after.

What was I looking for?  Well, not any of this synthetic yardage in bright colours, really.  But it’s hard not to look, especially when there is so much of it!

Most is cut into longyi lengths, pieces of around 2 metres which can be made into the wrap around skirts worn by the women here (and also, in different, more masculine patterns, by the men)

As you can imagine, the colour and texture drew me in and I could have happily spent the rest of the day there.

But heroes get achy backs from time to time and of course, we had other things to do, so however tempting the pile of noodle salad looked, we weren’t really in for a rest at this time.

We were focusing on fabric, these patterns being of Burmese origin and typical of the style here – but sadly, not really easily translatable to something I’d wear at home.

As small distraction came in the form of some small bags which looked remarkably similar to some I have at home, bought from the Lisu women we stayed with years ago in Northern Thailand.  Sure enough, they’re made by members of the same tribe here in Myanmar, as were the cross stitches bags associated with the Akha women.

All very tempting but I was after a longyi and there were still a few (hundred) fabric stalls we hadn’t looked at.

Hang on a minute though, there’s a little chanting, some gentle pushing (or was it squeezing past) and a group of Buddhist nuns went on their merry way, collecting alms from various stalls.  Never a dull moment here!

My eye fell on what looked suspiciously like a pile of Kaffe Fassett style cotton.  Maybe this was what I was after for my longyi?

Better still, there were some rather lovely ikat woven pieces I preferred and in no time at all, I had satisfied my shopping needs.  One longyi purchased…US$4.

Good grief.  I should have bought two.  Three even!

Mission accomplished, we made our way back to the car, passing these puppets along the way.  I’ve included them here because they relate pretty well to something we saw in the museum a little later on, but as no cameras were allowed inside, I thought I’d include them here.

I think I’m going to need a third post to finish of the day!  See you in the next one.

Mingalarbar!

We’ve learned our first two words of Burmese.  Mingalarbar is the all purpose greeting wishing whoever it is an auspicious day ahead and we’ve just about got it established in our minds and need to use it as often as we can to fix it firmly there in the memory.

It was almost two o’clock last night when we finally put out the light on what had been a long and busy day.

Our travelling companions made themselves instantly at home amongst the handwoven cushions and we went in search of breakfast this morning.

Very good it was too, in beautiful surroundings and served by the most delightfully friendly people.

We like it here!

We met Sanda our guide and Dan our driver and went out into the city, making our first stop in Victoria Square.

Depending on which direction we looked, we faced old colonial buildings with a definitely British feel, assorted pagodas and shapes of a skyline with a distinctly South East Asian flavour or the international glass and concrete skyscraper.

Actually, those three tower blocks were the only ones we saw all day, because from that point on, we knew we were most definitely in Myanmar!

Though it was already quite warm for us, it was still really the cool of the day and the street vendors were relaxed and not especially busy.

It was a good opportunity to survey the snacks on offer: egg custards, slices of a sticky rice cake or tapioca.  Good, solid fare to see you through the day.

The small streetside cafes were quiet with nobody feeling thirsty enough for a sugar cane juice yet.  Needless to say, I’m observing my favourite Asian palette of colours here again – it will crop up time and again during the day – scarlet red, cobalt blue, malachite green.  Love it.

No queues at the post office either.  Our walk took us through the old colonial district of Yangon (Rangoon) and we passed by the headquarters of the port authority, the water board, the central courts and so on.  Some are still in use, others have fallen into disrepair.

Many are being renovated, because the one aspect we noticed from the minute we arrived is that this is a country which is modernising very fast indeed.

The traffic is dreadful!  The streets are crammed with cars – modern, Japanese models generally, driven gently but with a determined air and little regard for rules or Highway Code style conventions.

When advised to cross, we do so, joining the monk, the elderly lady, the young man in jeans and a few businessmen stepping out bravely but confidently into the traffic, Hanoi-style.

On the other side of the street are small bookstalls selling all kinds of books in both English and Burmese.

In between the books are the small food vendors, here selling noodle salad.  We needn’t go hungry, that’s for sure.

A little further along, this man has set down his yoke and is painstakingly cutting up polystyrene fast food containers to create trays on which to sell portions of jackfruit.  Sanda chats with him a while and he agrees, it’s slow work.

We learn to read a Burmese price ticket on a heap of bestsellers: this is 500 Kyat per book.

Did I say bestsellers?

A little further on, you can take your pick for 1000 Kyat.

The books are piled high right the way along the street.

It’s clear reading skills are valued here from the sign outside the library

Nothing to argue about there.

With a quick look at this beautifully decrepit old place across the road,

and the young woman rolling leaves with betel nuts to sell, we’ll take a deep breath and cross the road.

See if we made it to the other side in the next post!