Late last night I arrived in Yangon, the old capital of Burma. My journey was not so comfortable with a delayed flight, missed meal, some pain, and the tail end of a virus. However, there is a comforting efficiency and calm friendliness that makes everything work out well here. A friendly taxi driver whisked me to the hotel and pointed out all of the interesting landmarks on the way.
The hotel is quaint, clean and downtown and the counter staff go out of their way to serve. I was settled in no time, with a map, a schedule of services and a nice bottle of water! The restaurant at the hotel had closed but I was told there were two restaurants a block away so off I set late in the night. I had no trouble finding the restaurants but was a bit surprised to find them out on the busy sidewalk! I asked for a table and was asked to share with two locals, both chain smokers. This was a severe test of my ability to detach and you would be surprised. I smiled beatifically as I ordered minced fish ball soup, terror biting at my very soul. The bowl arrived and I recognized most of the ingredients. I said a little prayer and hoped that the soup had boiled for a long time as I saw tiny little quail eggs, egg white, assembled fish ingredients, all excellent hosts of bacteria! It was delicious. I had made the error of asking to wash my hands and was shown into the area where dishes were washed. I should not have gone there. However, it is now the following morning and I have survived!
I have already toured The Strand, Sule Pagoda, Indiatown, Chinatown and the local market. This is an extraordinary place, teeming with life and energy. I am charmed by the easygoing nature of Yangonians(!) and have enjoyed the hustle and bustle of downtown. It consumes energy though, and I must measure mine out carefully. The streets feel completely safe, just as all other Myanmar locations have felt. The colonial architecture, now much neglected, remains and a renaissance seems possible, even probable. The proximity of food stalls and sewers, the profane and the divine, is challenging to the senses. Five million people are thriving here so it will all work out.
The hotel is quaint, clean and downtown and the counter staff go out of their way to serve. I was settled in no time, with a map, a schedule of services and a nice bottle of water! The restaurant at the hotel had closed but I was told there were two restaurants a block away so off I set late in the night. I had no trouble finding the restaurants but was a bit surprised to find them out on the busy sidewalk! I asked for a table and was asked to share with two locals, both chain smokers. This was a severe test of my ability to detach and you would be surprised. I smiled beatifically as I ordered minced fish ball soup, terror biting at my very soul. The bowl arrived and I recognized most of the ingredients. I said a little prayer and hoped that the soup had boiled for a long time as I saw tiny little quail eggs, egg white, assembled fish ingredients, all excellent hosts of bacteria! It was delicious. I had made the error of asking to wash my hands and was shown into the area where dishes were washed. I should not have gone there. However, it is now the following morning and I have survived!
I have already toured The Strand, Sule Pagoda, Indiatown, Chinatown and the local market. This is an extraordinary place, teeming with life and energy. I am charmed by the easygoing nature of Yangonians(!) and have enjoyed the hustle and bustle of downtown. It consumes energy though, and I must measure mine out carefully. The streets feel completely safe, just as all other Myanmar locations have felt. The colonial architecture, now much neglected, remains and a renaissance seems possible, even probable. The proximity of food stalls and sewers, the profane and the divine, is challenging to the senses. Five million people are thriving here so it will all work out.
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| Temple of pigeons! |
Stay healthy and keep enjoying.
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