The first thing I noticed when I landed was the relatively modest airport and the heat! With temperatures currently hovering around 10 degrees in Japan, I knew Burma would be a summery heaven in comparison and I was really looking forward to temps in the thirties. I wasn't disappointed. On my way through the arrivals hall I was greeted by a betel-nut-chewing taxi driver who for 10USD would take me wherever I wanted to go. I agreed and hopped into the backseat of the cab headed for the Fatherland Hotel in South Yangon.
Fatherland Hotel was lovely. More of a guesthouse than a hotel: it had five floors accessible by lift, a large marble-floored lobby and attentive staff. My room was not bad for $35 a night - it was clean, with a king size bed, flat screen TV, mini fridge, aircon, balcony and attached basic bathroom. I spent a few hours getting accustomed to things, taking pictures and smoking cigarettes on my balcony, marvelling at the fact that after a lifelong yearning I was finally here! I had dinner that night at a little Chinese place next door (my disappointment at flying all the way to Burma to eat ethnic Chinese food was almost palpable) and washed it down with a few Myanmar beers. It was both cheap and delicious - costing me a total of 8USD for the lot. Tired from the days of travelling and sitting alone at a restaurant, I wandered back to the hotel to watch TV and get ready for bed.
I was woken at 6.30am Christmas morning by my mobile phone ringing. Confused, I answered it to a chorus of "Merry Christmas" from my brother and his two children. Excited to start the day but unable to bring myself to do so at such an ungodly hour, I hung up the phone after a few delightful minutes of conversation and eventually dozed off again. Dragging myself out of bed at around 10.30am, I decided to catch a taxi to Shwedagon Pagoda - Yangon's, and indeed perhaps even the entire of Burma's, most famous religious temple.
Free for locals, as a foreigner it cost me 5USD to get into the Pagoda. Cheap considering the sheer treasure of it, but disappointing as the cash goes straight to the military government. I paid my money as the Tourist Assistant plied me with questions, commenting that we were "like family" after I told him that my father is Burmese. It was sweet and I wandered into the temple grounds with a smile on my face.
Inside Shwedagon Pagoda was amazing. The floor was marble. There were golden spires glittering in the sunshine. There were hundreds of people walking around barefoot, sitting in the shade, praying in front of their Buddhist statue of choice. I saw my first sprinkling of fellow tourists, sat mesmerised by the gleaming towers of gold all around me, surreptitiously watched the monks as they passed by and took a million photographs. A full lap of the pagoda took me between 15-20 minutes and despite walking essentially in a large circle, I noticed with all of the side temples along the way it was rather easy to get lost. The people around me seemed immensely curious in my presence and downright intrigued if they happened to spot the Burmese-script tattoo on my foot. I spent about 3 hours at the pagoda - it was so peaceful, spiritual and serene!
The main spire at Shwedagon Pagoda.
These "statue houses" are found enclosing the main spire in a circular shape.
As the sun burned down I decided to attempt walking back into town and with a smile on my face and a stray dog randomly in tow, I set off towards Kandawgyi Lake and beyond that downtown Yangon. Obviously not paying as much attention in my taxi ride there as I had thought, I found that I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. I didn't mind so much - it was my first glorious day, after all - but in the end I was walking for about 2 hours before getting anywhere useful. Everywhere I went people seemed curious about me and often I was stopped just so people could shyly say hello. I eventually made it to the Yangon Railway Station (nobody understands you if you ask for the "train station") and as I'd heard the train journey was a beautiful way to see the countryside, enquired about booking a Boxing Day ticket to Mandalay. My choices were a $10 Ordinary Class seat or a $35 Upper Class seat. Knowing that the government would take all profits here too, I opted for Ordinary Class and much to the amusement of the station officials (who seemed never to have seen a Western girl before) paid my US dollars, collected the handwritten ticket and headed out for lunch.
I was determined to find myself a bowl of oh-no-kauk-swe (Burmese-style coconut chicken laksa) as a Christmas treat and set off down the dusty streets in search. By this stage I was feeling a little dehydrated and when a friendly old-man tea-shop vendor stopped me to ask if I wanted an iced coffee, I obliged. I tried my luck asking for ohnokaukswe and to my delight he nodded that he did indeed sell it and a bowl would be shortly forthcoming. I could barely contain my excitement.
My iced coffee and ohnokaukswe noodles.
I wolfed down my lunch and then idled over the iced coffee, returning the million smiles and hellos I got along the way. As I was leaving, I was wished a Merry Christmas by a fellow traveller and we got to talking as I paid up my $2.50 tab. We decided to go for a roam about the city together and for the next 5 hours did just that. Later that night, Sunil and I decided to also share dinner and some beers together nearby his hostel and so ended my first full (Christmas) day in Burma.
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