Kyaiktiyo: The Golden Rock that Isn't Golden for Awhile

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Even though I had been told that the Kyaiktiyo Pagoda was being "renovated," I knew I had to go there. It is an important pilgrimage site. I just happened to visit when they were doing their once in three years makeover. The work would extend for about three weeks, so there was no way I could see it uncovered and glinting in the sun during my time in Myanmar.

Who knows what they were doing underneath the bamboo matting that covered it. They were certainly making a lot of noise, and an ugly wooden stairway was now up one side of the rock. Normally I would have seen a shiny gold rock, balanced precariously. I could have watched men approach the rock and press a thin gold leaf on to its surface. But no, none of that, I had to settle for a different experience.

Kyaw Kyaw goes there every year with his family. They trod up the steep hill, about a 1000 vertical feet, carrying food and one change of clothes. There are guest houses and big shelters on top where pilgrims can stay. Sometimes people sleep outside under the stars.

The fun part began for me when I had to climb into the back of a truck, with rows of padded seats lined up so that it could hold about 45 people. We were breathing down each other's necks. The woman behind me grabbed my biceps on one arm, and I could have sworn she was admiring my muscles by giving them a squeeze now and then--or heaven forbid, maybe she was feeling my mudflap! Or perhaps I was just being a bit delusional, since we were going at break neck speed, up a steep mountain with narrow switchbacks, up and down, screeching around corners. Kids and adults both were yelling "weeee!" and everyone was enjoying the ride. I was the only foreigner on the truck, so it was kind of special. Kyaw Kyaw barely made it in before it took off from the station, because he had to go park the car.

So up we went. Finally the truck stopped for 10 minutes to allow other trucks coming down the hill to pass. When we reached the truck station, Kyaw Kyaw and I got down, and the truck went on to another stop which brought the pilgrims closer to the very top, where the golden rock is. I had to go to a hotel that I had booked. Kyaw Kyaw told me that foreigners were not allowed to ride beyond that point because it was very dangerous. He said about once a month a truck goes off the road.

Something's not right about that, I said. They're okay with injuring the locals, but not the foreigners.

I knew I was in for a challenge when we started walking up the path to the hotel. It was steep. A group of porters with big baskets hounded me, they wanted to make some money. I thought, however, that the hotel can't be that far, as I panted and puffed and dragged my sensible wheeled bag behind me. Finally I gave up and hired a porter, who heaved the bag into his basket on top of his head and followed us the rest of the way.

The short walk to the hotel was nothing compared to the rest of it. Talk about steep. I kept saying to Kyaw Kyaw, this is crazy. He just said, slowly slowly. You're right, I said, slowly slowly.

Little shops lined the path. About the time I said this is crazy, I noticed the sedan chairs lining the sides, with their carriers lounging in them. They saw me hesitate, and they were all over me, pinpointing me as an out of shape American who needed to be carried like a queen. No thanks, I was gonna do it! I just kept telling myself all the bike riding and workouts that I had been doing at home were paying off, even though I was pretty tired.

The path kept going, up and up. I was sweating again, as though I had just taken a dip in a swimming pool, and the blouse I was wearing was showing the perspiration all over it. But I wore my sweat proudly. I told Kyaw Kyaw that we had to suffer to get to such an important place.

We reached a sign that said, "short way" with an arrow. Kyaw Kyaw said indeed it's the short way, so off we went. This was the traditional medicine route, as several vendors had all kinds of plants and animals and powders for sale. There were mountain goat heads, black and shiny. And dried squirrels, and a skewered python, tiger paws, and tiger skulls. Other stuff he couldn't identify. Signs said no photos, which I of course obeyed.

We did reach the top, yes we did, after a long sweaty slog of about 45 minutes. Sun was on its way lower, so it was not as hot as it could have been. It is a large complex of buildings, shelters, a street with food for sale, and there was a traditional orchestra set up who would be playing music later.

My idea was to photograph the sunset, but my enthusiasm waned after I saw, or didn't see, the rock. The photos will give you the idea. I had more fun photographing people--monks, nuns, pilgrims--families, kids; foreigners.

I did buy a packet of the gold leafs that are each pounded into a thin thin square. I got five pieces for about two dollars. Men apply them to the rock a an act of gaining merit.

We walked around as the sun sank. Just before it totally dropped, we headed down the hill to the hotel. I spent an interesting night there in a lovely room where I listened to really bad "music" from out on the path until the wee hours, a guy snoring most of the night on one side of me, and someone else listening to Al Jazeera news until well past midnight on the other side.

Next morning we scrambled into the back of the truck and repeated the wild ride, this time down the hill. I noticed that nearly every bend in the road had a sign with a name on it, "Such and such Bend."

Next time I shall see a golden rock, but for now, I settled for feeling the golden rock and its place.

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Photos

See how it Glistens in the Sun!
The Golden Rock is under all that bamboo matting, undergoing renovation.

Monk Play
Monks with camera and radio.

Watermelon Vendor
As we waited in the truck, vendors paraded by.

Sedan Anyone?
I declined the ride.

Just Imagine
A gold rock underneath

Precious Cargo
A visiting Thai monk gets a ride