I had really enjoyed my (brief) stint in Yangon and was hoping that second time around I wouldn’t be disappointed.
I spent an afternoon wandering through the National Museum, a 5 story building filled with artifacts – and photos of artifacts – from the expansive history of this country. The relief of being in air-con was almost overridden by the fact that the rooms were dimly lit making you squint…and making the mannequins jump out and scare you even more. Once again I was the only foreigner and almost the only visitor in the museum. I had the place to myself. Government run meant no photos. Sorry.
Walking some of the streets and looking up I could have been on any European street. The buildings would not have looked out of place in Paris or London, but you do have to ignore the Burmese walking past spitting red bettle leaf juice to make this a reality. I also visited Lake Kandawgyi, only a few km’s out of town. There were people running around the lake exercising and lovers hiding behind umbrellas making out. Very cute.
I took the 3 hour circle line around the city and surrounding countryside. A local train that bumps along filled with locals going to the market or temple. Was nice to sit and watch the world go by.
I met a businessman who told me that Yangon only has 8000 beds for visitors. 8000 in a city of 5 million. No wonder it is near impossible to find accommodation during high season. I am glad I came in low season – the lack of tourists had made this trip especially pleasant.
I will miss this country. Little things like the way they touched their right elbow with their left hand out of politeness when they hand you something – similar to the wai in Thailand. People calling out hello from the back of a truck and giving me their hugest smiles. Men constantly adjusting their longyi’s and the women with thanakha painted faces. The singing – everyone sings, all the time. A country that has been shut away for so long is beginning to bloom and I am so happy I got to be there at the beginning.
(Bird man – buy a bird then release it for good luck)
(Dumplings for breakfast at the Lucky 7 tea house on a busy Sunday)