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A Monk's Eye View of Yangon

Posted by Stuart at 09:08 PM on September 01, 2006

Let me start by saying that my first day in Myanmar did not turn out at all as I expected. But don't get me wrong, it has been absolutely wonderful.

The Air Asia flight to Yangon was smooth, but left Bangkok late (as is often the case with Air Asia). The Yangon Airport, 20 KM outside of town, looks like its going through a major renovation. But all construction stopped when we arrived (assuming they were working before!) so that the workers could line up and stare at the latest load of tourists. Immigration was smooth as well, as was getting a taxi outside the airport. There were no pushy touts and no need to haggle. Five dollars (actually paid in US Dollars) was all that was needed to ride into town. I checked into my hotel and of course headed out to see the sights ASAP.

On the hour and fifteen minute plane ride from Bangkok, I had studied my Lonely Planet and mapped out a plan for the day. Ten minutes after leaving the hotel, however, I changed my mind and went in a different direction. As it turned out, it was a great decision. I walked a couple of kilometers into the town cneter, exchanged some currency with a decidedly un-official money changer at the Bogyoke Aung San Market. (1250 kyat = US$1)

The clouds had been threatening all morning, and by the time I arrived at the Sule Paya (a big chedi in the middle of a giant traffic circle downtown), the heavens opened and the rain fell.

As soon as I stepped into the temple, a college-aged, burgundy-robed monk who was sitting along the side of the temple smiled and waved at me. The rain was coming down hard now, so I figured I might as well go try to chat with a local for a while.

It turned out that his English was pretty good, but I could tell that he didn't often hear native English speakers. It seemed as if he had probably learned vocabulary mostly by himself by reading. For example, at one point, I spent about five minutes trying to convince him that "phone" is not pronounced "pone"

The rain finally stopped and the two of us walked around the stupa as he explained what we were looking at. I quickly realized that this boy was a true student of Buddhism. He knew a lot about the different Buddhas, about Buddhist theory, and about the mythology that surrounds the centuries-old sites in Yangon. He was such a good tour guide (even if I only understood about 80% of what he said), that I didn't resist when he invited himself to show me around the city.

We crossed the street and walked through Mahabandoola Park, which has a big obelisk-shaped Independence Monument in the center. Even though I had been told that Burmese people would not be willing to talk politics in pubic, at the monument the monk made a comment about his opinion of the current political situation. I was very surprised, not by what he had to say, but instead that he was so bold about it.

The next stop was Botataung Paya (Pagoda) to visit the hair of the Budda that is on display. This temple, on the bank of the Yangon River, was beautiful. But the most unique aspect is that the huge golden chedi is hollow, and visitors can walk through it. The main chedi was destroyed by an Allied bomb in 1943, and many antique sculptures and other religious objects were found inside. When it was rebuilt, the builders made a passageway through the chedi and housed the artifacts in glass cases along the walls, as if in a museum.

My excellent monk guide kept up a running narration throught the walk, pointing out models of Indian temples or naming some of the Buddha's disciples who were represented in gold images. He also told me more about his own life, and that he lived in a monastery outside of town. "Would I like to visit?" he asked. But of course!

So soon we were in a taxi, riding through the countryside dodging people, dogs, cows, bicycles, busses, other taxis, and thousands of potholes. Once we arrived at the monastery, we didn't stay long, and soon we were in another taxi heading towards a temple that is located on an island in the middle of the Yangon River.

When we arrived at the river, an interesting scene took place. There were boats to take worshippers out to the island, but my monk friend couldn't convince them to take us. First the boat captains said that the temple was closed. But then they took two Burmese people over. Then they said that, acording to my friend's translation, "This boat no good for foreigner."

I tried to convince him that I wasn't expecting luxury, and that any boat would suit me fine, but eventually I realized that what he meant was that these boats were not "government certified" to carry tourists. After several minutes of negotiation and waiting another 20 minutes, another boat appeared and we headed over.

By the time we were back from the island temple, it was getting dark. But before we headed back to Yangon, we stopped for some "Shan Noodle Soup" at a tiny roadside stand that my friend recommended. (The Shan State of Myanmar is in the northeast of the country.) And in fact the soup was delicious. The "noodle" and "soup" parts were what I am familiar with, but on the top was a big scoop of ground chicken in a mildly spicy tomato sauce.

Eventually we made it back to my hotel in Yangon. Originally, I had planned to spend tomorrow on a boat ride down the river to Twante. But my little monk friend has convinced me instead to let him take me on a road trip to the ancient city of Bago (Pegu). So he has promised to be back at my hotel room at 7 AM tomorrow, at which point no telling what adventures await me and my new red-robed travel buddy.