The Road to Mandalay

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We left the heat and smog of Yangon to land in the dark of the Mandalay International Airport, at least in name. Surprisingly when we landed there were absolutely no lights on and as we were ferried to the luggage carosel, the lights flickered on and off and out popped out bags. There was no one about and since the plane was only a third full and contained only 3 other tourists, the place was dead. Welcome to Mandalay! Walked outside to the pitch dark - so strange for an airport and found our bags whisked off to a taxi by a small boy. Naturally we had no bargaining power since it was obvious that we were in the middle of nowhere and they could charge whatever exorbitant fees they thought that someone rich enough to fly could afford. After our almost hour drive through midnight black streets where the taxi competed with trucks, buses, bikes, scooters, and motorbikes, we decided that he had earned his $14 fair and square.

For the very first time we encountered fellow tourists in our guesthouse and Shan local restaurant close by where we wandered to dinner. The first thing you need to know about nighttime dining is that it is really is! There are no streetlights and the sidewalks are full of surprising big holes that pop out of nowhere so the only safe approach is walking on the street. But on the street you have have a few other obstacles such as the enthusiastic badminton players. How they play in the dark I will never know! Of course this is only a minor irritant compared to trucks, buses, scooters, motorbikes, and bikes. There is also the plaintive call of the trishaw driver, "hello, where you going? I take you. Very cheap".

In the morning, we decided to go with our friendly trishaw drivers that hang out on the front steps of our guest house to the monk district. In the early morning, we very quickly realise that we are no longer in Yangon. With its 800,000 inhabitants, Mandalay feels immediately quieter and it is also younger at only 150 years! The roads are full of scooters, bikes and motorbikes which we did not see in Yangon resulting in a tinkling of bells and the mini squeaks of horns. At the heart of the city is the Mandalay Palace, love it or hate it, with its 3.2 km long walls (each side) and moat all the way around, it is imposing.

But equally part of the city are the quiet back streets where we headed. Leaving the downtown and heading to the banks of the Ayeyardawaddy River, we drive past houses built of bamboo and see the lives of people pretty much as they have lived them for centuries. Monks wander the streets, alms bowls in hand, looking for their daily rations and relying on the kindness of the local people who contribute their meager foodstuffs all in order to gain karma which they hope will contribute to a better result in the next life.

Our first stop in the Monk District is the striking, Shwe In Bin Kyuang Monastery. This gorgeous teak monastery was build in 1895 when a pair of wealthy Chinese jade merchants had it commissioned. It is apparent that they spared no expense as it is covered with detailed carvings not only on its rooftops, but doors, interior and at every twist and turn. The craftsmen were highly skilled and the result is one of the pure elegance. Adding to the ambience were the friendly older monks who welcomed us and sat reading the paper while we wandered. The younger monks were out collecting food so the place was a quiet reverence, but by the banks of the river would be a lovely place to live.

After finishing off there we continued on to a completely different experience - the Jade Market. As soon as we got at all close we were surprised to find rafts of bikes, motorbikes and scooters all under cover - obviously this place was hopping - and inside it was. There were all kinds of men engaged in the sale, trade and barter of jade, not to mention the drinking of tea while cementing deals and then in the back, pool tables. It was a complete subculture and brimming with life. Not a tourist was about and there was a seedy feeling about the place where many a fortune may be made and lost, but it is also highly illegal which doesn't seem to have deterred trade at all!

Left to wander back to our hotel and walked through a very poor area hugging the river and through more narrow streets where local markets spilled over the streets with produce. The people were thrilled to see us and smiled and waved at every step.

In the afternoon we grabbed our friendly trishaw drivers to take us the 30 minute ride to the famous, Mandalay Hill for sunset. Despite all the flatlands around it, this one hill at 230 m stands out and on top is build a shrine where you can see the view of the city. Your choices are the tourists class elevator to the top, a taxi part way up (still can collect some karma) or the full bore climb. We chose the last. All the way along we were encouraged by well wishers.

At the top the view took in the vast plains reaching out the sea and the lowlands of water everywhere with their green rice fields contrasted with the growing city and its pagoda dotted throughout. Modern buildings are sprouting up fuelled by investment from China, not far away over the border and Mandalay is changing. The most obvious sign of this is in its young students who came to ask us to practise English with them. This is a popular past time in Myanmar and almost all foreigners will be approached for an impromptu English class. Lots of fun when you have a lively group like our university students on top of Mandalay Hill, or fairly painful when you can't really understand someone who claims to teach English, but all the same you can't fault them for trying.

The students tell us that they come to Mandalay Hill every Sunday to find tourists to speak to so that they can improve their English which is already very good. Their motivation is to speak fluently so that they can go to Singapore and get a good job so they can save money to send to their families because in Myanmar there are few good jobs. And to study, we wonder what their families sacrifice for them? Will it be worth it? They are the new generation and we hope that life will be better for them and that maybe, just maybe, they can work in their own changing country.

With their thanks and best wishes we say goodbye to another day in Myanmar as the sun goes down over Mandalay Hill and we make our way down the dark stairs to our trishaw drivers who will tell us stories of their lives on the way home and we will learn about another reality in Myanmar where they are away from their family and happy to earn a few dollars a day. As the one trishaw driver tells us, "it's as good a job as any and I can be my own boss."

Riding through the dark streets with them smiling and revealing a little more of their lives, the temperature balmy, but not humid, covered in the ever present film of dust that haunts the city, we feel alive and happy and wonder what the next day will bring ...

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