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Asia, Destinations

A day in Yangon

December 15, 2014 • By

Thank you for everyone’s concern. I did not run off with a Shanghai husband and forget to tell you but my advanced sightseeing pace along with the early mornings and the limited wifi made for some challenging times to write.

Air China, China Tourism, Air China Bag Loss, Burma

The brain trust at Yangon Airport

Where I last left you, I arrived in Yangon without my suitcase and a 12-hour travel day through Beijing. I thoroughly enjoyed overspending in the markets and later regretted buying so much pink and maybe too much in general. Many of you have commented on my outfits. It seems I’ve had to make allowances for the climate changes and while layering in China and Mongolia was necessary. The humidity and soaring temperatures finally caught up with me in Yangon.

Welcome to Burma or is it Myanmar? It depends on where you live. While many of us still refer to Myanmar as Burma, the country is officially the Republic of the Union of Myanmar. Burma is actually the Anglo-Saxon name given by the British but both names are derived from the name of the majority ethnic group Bamar/Bama (Burma or Burmese) or Myamah (Myanmar).

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Myanmar’s population is 51 million with about 7 million people living in Yagon, the country’s biggest city and its former capital. It remains the commercial and financial center. Myanmar borders China to the north, Laos and Thailand to the east and shares the Bay of Bengal and Andaman Sea Coast with Bangladesh and India. Witnessed by the faces of the people, Myanmar is a little bit of all its borders but 68 percent of the population is Bama/Bamar. Around the third century BC, the Pyu organized into city-states in what today would be the Yunnan (Southern China) near the Yangtze Delta region. The Pyu is considered typical or the old Burma race.

Myanmar is knows for it’s teak wood, precious stones (ruby, sapphires and jade), natural gas, silver, gold, uranium and tin. It’s a rich country but 26 percent of the people live in poverty. Unlike its neighbors, Myanmar’s poorest do not experience starvation since so much of the land is ripe for farming. The life expectancy for men is 65 and women 68. This differs for those living in the countryside. Their healthcare system is horrible. When walking around, I noticed a dilapidated public hospital in a former colonial building. The windows open, robes hanging from the rafters, it looked anything but sterile. My guide indicated healthcare is one of the country’s biggest problems that even with private healthcare it’s difficult to obtain medicine and doctors are poorly trained and lack sufficient education. Smoking and spitting are not as prevalent in Myanmar but 34 percent of the men smoke and 16 percent of the women and 13 percent of the population is diabetic due mainly to a diet rich with rice served three times a day.

Yangon, also known as Rangoon during British occupation, means “City of Strive.” It served as the military government capital until March 2006 when the capital was moved to Naypyidaw. It’s a mix of colonialism and deteriorating buildings with busy alleyways, lush vegetation, a few lakes, many parks and an active port on the Yangon River. It’s a bustling city with jammed roads and people hawking goods and food on nearly every corner. Many foreign embassies reside in Yangon and hotels are springing up to accommodate tourists and businessmen. Foreign investment continues to grow with China, Thailand and Singapore leading the pack but McDonalds and Starbucks cannot be far behind.

In 1948, the British granted Burma independence after more than 60 years of colonization. The county experienced a type of democracy although fractioned and only slightly unified from 1948-1958 but in 1962 a military coup took place and a corrupt and inhumane military dictatorship controlled the country until 2011. Even now it’s been a slow road to independence as most of the military influences the government and business. There will be another election in 2015 and the people are hopeful this will be positive step in the right direction.

The United States issued economic sanctions against Burma from 1997 – 2012. According the Treasury Department’s Executive Order, “the Office of Foreign Assets Control determined that the Government of Burma (ruled by a military junta) had committed large-scale repression of the democratic opposition in Burma and declared a national emergency with respect to the actions and policies of that government.” It goes on further but the most obvious sanctions were against the banks and the mining of jade and rubies. The mining conditions were deplorable and jewelers from China and Korea were purchasing these gems at lower costs and the money went directly to the military not the Burmese people. One article I read said, “Burma’s modern history has been marred by persistent human rights violations, ethnic strife, cronyism and failed Soviet-style economic management that has resulted in widespread poverty.”

In early November, President Obama visited Myanmar on his Asian trip, the second visit of his presidency. He met with Aung San Suu Kyi, the daughter of Aung San, a prominent leader who orchestrated independence from the British in the 40s. Unfortunately, Aun San never tasted that freedom as he was assassinated. When Aung San Suu Kyi started to speak out against the military government, fearing she would incite the people, the military placed her under house arrest where she remained for 16 years. Aung San Suu Kyi represents the National League of Democracy and is very popular amongst the people. In 2006 — likely fearing her power and determination–the government changed the Constitution which now prohibits people running for president from being married to non-nationals. She was married to a British citizen who has since passed away to cancer and yet the law stands.

The City Center of Yangon is beautiful but sadly falling apart. It needs an influx of money pronto before the grand colonial buildings turn to rubble. You can just imagine the splendor of these buildings in the 1860s as they are juxtaposed with shoddy storefronts and local people who either don’t see their significance or believe they represent a time of British dominance and would rather see them fall. Faint signs of the city’s past remain – a Bengali mosque, a Chinatown without a gate but Mandarin characters abound, a synagogue, a city hall converted to a bank and the Strand Hotel.

The lives of Buddha engraved on the feet

The lives of Buddha engraved on the feet

About 86 percent of the people practice Theravada Buddhism, a more strict and conservative branch based on the teaching of the oldest recorded Buddhist texts. Consider it a type of orthodox religion. It is not unusual to see monks begging for alms on the streets and in some of the restaurants. Monks cannot take money from people so locals are usually seen giving tea, rice and other food. The rest of the population practices Islam 3.2 percent (mainly near the Bangladesh border); Christianity, Hinduism and Judaism make up the rest.

It’s hard to walk very far without seeing a statue of Buddha in a restaurant, building or even on the park grounds but one of the coolest, largest, most feminine Buddha’s I’ve ever seen is the reclining Buddha. The Buddha is propped up on one hand having a meditative rest. It’s feet together and parallel with footprints outlining the lives of Buddha. This designer created one sexy Buddha.

At the heart of Yangon, stands a glorious Buddhist temple knows as Shwedagon Pagoda or the Great Dagon Pagoda or the Golden Pagoda. Shoes and socks off again, I needed to navigate pebbles and bird crap but it was well worth the inconvenience.

Along with my guide, I watched the sunset from atop the platform of the pagoda. It’s truly a magnificent site and is considered the most sacred Buddhist pagoda for the Burmese, as it’s believed to have relics of the four past Buddhas. There are hundreds of shrines surrounding the main or golden stupa. Diamonds, rubies and sapphires cover the crown or umbrella of the stupa. The very top diamond bud is tipped with a 76 -carat diamond. The entire structure glows in the sunlight and at night it shines brighter than any city skyline. You could spend an entire day there and still miss something. There are bells, dragons, ogres, and thousands of Buddha’s. I was there on a Friday and hundreds of people were worshipping the Friday “birthday” Buddha.

The Pagoda at night

The Pagoda at night

The Burmese people eat rice with every meal. There are mild curries with dried catfish, chicken, pork, beef and vegetables. They love peanuts and sesame oil as it’s grown in many of their backyards. My favorite item so far is the picked tealeaf salad made of roasted sesame, roasted peanuts, fried beans, fried garlic, tomato, cabbage, and spices. It’s zesty yet mild and hearty and delicious. I am also a fan of the avocado shake (avocados are in season now). Who doesn’t like a creamy mix of avocado, sugar and condensed milk? No wonder I skipped dinner after downing a glassful. I probably consumed two avocados. The Burmese food is greatly influenced by Chinese and Indian traditions and “typical” Burmese food is probably more a mix of its borders with some Western British influence thrown in here and there.

 


Asia, Destinations

When Air China gives you lemons

December 11, 2014 • By

When Air China gives you lemons, the Burmese make lemonade in the form of markets.

I departed Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia two hours late for Beijing, which started a domino effect of sorts.

Seated in the back of the airplane, my only shot to making the connecting flight to Yangon, Myanmar would be if these kind and generous Chinese passengers remained seated and allowed those with connections to exit first. I paused in my thinking and came to the conclusion that I needed to rectify this situation quickly. These people don’t wait – ever! I slyly walked up the aisle and formulated a plan. The bulkhead row right behind first class section had an empty middle seat beckoning me. I asked the flight attendant to move me and believe it or not she did and we even relocated another passenger’s carry on bag to accommodate mine. Score!

After I stomped over the aisle seat passenger four times, we started talking. He is Welsh and was flying to Bangkok to see his Thai wife who was expecting their first child, a boy, the next day. We discussed his job and living in Mongolia, he teaches English at a private school and has no intention of returning to the United Kingdom. Prior to Mongolia, he taught in Bangkok for five years. He gave me some insights to what living in Ulaan Baatar is like for non-Mongolians. It doesn’t seem pretty. Ex Pats are heavily targeted by robbers and just the other night his two mates were taken by a taxi elsewhere and jumped. He confirmed the corruption problem and reiterated the pollution is absolutely debilitating until about March. It probably goes without saying but he is looking to move to another country – possibly Shanghai and that his wife isn’t a fan of returning to Ulaan Baatar with a baby.

A damsel in great distress, the Welshman came to my rescue. He offered to carry my bag and run with me through Beijing’s finest. Normally, I would brush gestures of kindness off because I am She-Ra but he seemed to know the way and frankly running in general and running with 25 pounds did not excite me. We hatched a plan and as soon as the seat belt sign dinged at 6:50 PM we sprung into action. We jumped on the first class bus to the terminal, sprinted to the transfer desk grunting all the way, screamed at the international customs officer who basically told me to chill, and then split up at security with me thanking him for his kindness.

With the clock ticking at 7:15 PM, the security folks demand to check out my jewelry. I am panting at this point and sweating profusely as I am still dressed as if I am outside in -22F F. I blurt out, “Not real, it’s not gold, fake fake fake.” Ugh no luck back on the belt it goes. I assess the situation again. It’s now 7:20 PM. I grab my coat(s), laptop and bag and take off running. A cart guy waves at me and I say very winded, “57.” He asks for my boarding pass and I hop on the cart. While driving, he is adamant about learning where I am from and finally I say USA. He points to a $10 USD. Argh! I get it now. I have no US currency on me and I am not giving him $20 Aussie dollars so I think quickly. Fuck it! I give him 100 Yuan (Chinese local – $16) and he turns the wheel and we burn rubber. I arrive at the gate with a few folks waiting for the last bus to depart for the plane. We board. I sit in my seat thinking how winded but thankful I am to be on the plane and I strip off my cashmere sweater and pray my bag makes it. We wait another hour and four more men board. Alas, we depart.

I sat next to a lovely American woman in her 60s who was traveling to Myanmar for three weeks. She is still single, never married and we discussed dating at 60s v. 40. She confessed that’s she’s picky and seemed to genuinely be very happy with her life. I confess I don’t date and then admit I am partially crazy and the thought of hairs on my bathroom floor or people touching my rugs sends me into a tizzy. She is a huge fan of Nepal and without much effort convinced me that is definitely next on the bucket list – only if they have an American 5 star hotel. We settle in for a five-hour flight. I watched Little Women. She napped.

Air China, China Tourism, Air China Bag Loss, Burma

The claim form

I should have really taken the opportunity to snooze on the flight so that after we landed and from the hours of 12:30 AM – 4:00 AM I could have conducted myself in a more even-tempered manner. After the luggage belt stopped moving and my bag did not arrive, I panicked. There were about 20 of us staring at each other in dismay. Finally, after I watched four female airport ladies scurry about aimlessly for a good 30 minutes, I took matters into my own hand. The one thing I can do and I am darn good at it is getting shit done but what I am not is patient and I don’t speak Burmese. I snatched the forms out of one of the ladies hand and took a pen and directed her to “write” and write she did with the help of a few Burmese Americans helping me with translation. Seated next to the woman on the belt, I supervised the San Francisco American who assisted me with personal information, while the New Yorker continued to complain about Air China. A few folks gave up and departed while the rest of us hunkered down. Forms filled, passports copied, I left the airport exhausted, extremely flustered and concerned I would never see my bag after I heard the next Air China flight to Yangon arrives Sunday or Monday. I leave for Bagan Saturday. You see where I am going with this, don’t you? My purchases from the cashmere store are in the suitcase along with my toiletries, make up, shoes, converters and summer attire.

Silk skirts

Silk skirts

A few hours of sleep under my belt, I allowed the sunshine to arouse me from my unconsciousness. I complained to a few people at home on What’s App about my lost bag and then mapped out my day. It obviously involved shopping as my wardrobe consisted of a cashmere sweater, two pairs of sneakers, baseball hats, a sports bra, dirty exercise pants and a tank, one pair of clean underwear, one pair of socks, three winter coats and a random pair of flip flops. I could always wear an iPad, MacBook and iPhone along with three converters none of which work in Myanmar and my retainer if I get desperate.

The front desk handed me a photocopied map and started highlighting things. I asked the woman to mark the route for the market and she kept repeating, “It’s too far for walk.”

Irritated and sleep deprived, I gave my spiel I say in every foreign country, “I live in New York. We walk. We not fat Americans.”

I broke her down. She showed me the market and I got on with my day.

I made it to the market in 20 minutes thank you very much and the locals were just setting up their stalls. My guide warned me at 4:00 AM that I would need long dresses for the pagodas (yes I have those in my suitcase) so I kept that in mind as I purchased a few local “skirts” and t-shirts. With each purchase, the sellers would take the cash and baptize their other merchandise with it for good luck (more sales). An eye doctor fixed my readers for free (they sustained some damage when I dropped my suitcase on my face). I even tried to pay him and he refused. That’s the only thing that didn’t cost me today. I’ll take that as my good fortune.

Buying a bra proved to be a comedy of errors and I really debated whether or not to buy one as I sorted through random underwear and bras made from the finest in China and Thailand. I picked up one style and looked at the sales lady patting my chest, “Do you have smaller?” She throws me 38D cup bra. “No, smallllller like little.” She hands me a 36C. We are making progress. I push my hand down as if to say less. She says, “flat like baby.” YES, exactly flat like baby – one nude bra, check!. Armed with three t-shirts (one for sleeping), two skirts, two tank tops, deodorant, and some ugly dress I paid $5 for and now regret, I headed to the grocery store for hair conditioner. I was so hungry that I ended up sampling the entire store aisle by aisle. – A shot of chocolate milk here, a rice drink there, and lastly a slimy tasting shrimp thing – disgusting. I located the shampoo section, paid and returned to my hotel walking lopsided with bags all the while soaking wet from the humidity.

My new outfits

My new outfits

When I checked into the hotel this morning, they gave me a voucher for fruit juice. When I returned with four full bags of clothes and products totaling about $200, I went directly to the bar and asked if they could provide rum or vodka with the fruit juice. They looked at me quizzically. It was only 2:00 PM. They said something in broken English that I took to believe after 4:00 PM. There will be alcohol in my future. There will be cold, crisp beer and there may be one, two or even three.

It’s lush, it’s green, it’s hot, it’s humid and my once peeling skin is dripping with sweat.  The salt percolating through my skin is forcing me to dine on it willingly. Tomorrow, I take on the sites dressed in Yagon’s finest. I hope my new outfits warrant fewer stares than the Lululemon outfit I sported today.

Air China Sucks! This is why I NEVER check luggage. I broke my rule!!!!!!!

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