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Back in Mandalay, I change my plan of going further north to visit monasteries in Saging Hills. Instead, I'll go south to Bagan via Mount Popa with M. She laughs in the morning when I show up with my backpack ready for the 6-hour drive. Jokingly, she says that I'm just using her for a free lift and starts to call me
“Leech". Travelling the back way to Bagan, through remote arid landscapes, we listen to more music and talk more about photography before arriving at Mount Popa a few hours later.
This ancient hill is the remnant of a volcano with a monastery sitting on top. It’s also home to the 32 nat spirits of Myanmar. Who, it is said, travel between here and China. Nat worship is a cult unto itself. Of the hundreds of nats once revered in Myanmar, only 32 remain officially recognised. Or, something like that.
Standing at the entrance, I am surrounded by monkeys. There is a group of local tourists walking next to me, so I position myself in the center, using them as a human shield against a possible monkey attack. M watches in amazement. Within seconds, I feel a wet
sensation on my head. It appears that one of the monkeys has marked me with his
"scent". In other words, he has pissed on me. This seems shocking at first, but I soon notice how the other monkeys keep their distance. While other tourists jump and scramble away screaming, I walk by undisturbed, as if invisible. Unlike M, who is confronted every few steps by angry simians. My theory is because I now smell like a monkey, they think I’m one of them, so they leave me alone. Alternatively, it is because the first Monkey marked me as his property, and all the other monkeys, fearing retribution, obey. Either way, this event provokes another term of endearment from M,
"Monkey Pee Boy”. After all the excitement, we arrive at the top of Mt Popa. Enjoying the surreal view, we take some photos before heading back down the long winding stairs. Most of the monkeys have now moved on (not that it would bother me). We continue on to Bagan, one of Myanmar's ancient treasures, which is only about an hour away.
Bagan We arrive at Bagan as the sun is setting; M books into her
5-star resort and I return with the driver to where he’ll spend the night. The guest house right next door. But of course, my room doesn't have an ensuite bathroom with hot water, or a swimming pool with a view. M smiles as she quickly says goodbye. Eager to have a hot shower and get into the pool I imagine. Jealously, I wave goodbye.
In the morning, after breakfast with the taxi driver, I wander aimlessly among the many temples. It will take weeks to see them all, as Bagan is spread over a 40-square-kilometre area. I have two weeks left on my visa, so I'll spend them here before I fly back to Bangkok from Yangon on the 12th of December. In the evening, I start to feel ill.
(03/01/09)
Update: I'm currently in Trat, Thailand. I've been sick since the 3rd of December and have spent the past 2 weeks on a beach in Ko Chang recuperating. The last 10 days in Myanmar were hell. I am still not even sure what I had. A doctor in Myanmar said it was a streptococcal infection and I did get a strange rash after a
duration of intense fever. I'm still heading to Laos. Most likely South Laos only, crossing the border at Cambodia. For the moment, I'm happy to be alive. I spent the Christmas & New Year period at 'Long Beach' on Koh Chang, relaxing, eating healthy and taking LSD.
(03/07/10)
The last blog entry in 2008, was just before I got sick in Bagan. I had a fever for a week before having to fly to Yangon (something I was trying to avoid). Where I waited another week for my flight back to Bangkok. It took me several months before I started to feel better. The diagnosis of a Streptococcal infection in Yangon didn't feel right at the time, and it wasn't until a year later, after blood tests, it was revealed that I'd contracted Dengue Fever. At the time, I believed I was going to die in Myanmar. I am currently residing in Hobart, Tasmania.
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