Had a pretty solid day running around Yangon today, and finally saw more of the things I was expecting to see. Like the CBD. It is evident that Yangon is a sprawling city, albeit one with a relatively small downtown area. The population of Myanmar is around 60 million, with 6 million living in Yangon. There is much evidence of British colonialism, with not too much new construction as far as I could tell. Wide streets, grand buildings, mostly former government offices or banks, port and rail infrastructure. The kind of things that you are going to need if you want to build an empire, strip a country of its natural resources and subjugate its people. A lot of it is now dilapidated or has been turned to other uses. Yet change is evident too, but they are starting from a long way back, in my humble opinion.
They day began with the obligatory visit to a street market, this one selling mostly produce. The kind of operation that springs up at short notice, then disappears when it's time to reopen the street to traffic. I have now seen plenty of these in Asia and knew what to expect. It was gut churning in places, but I have seen worse. (In Laos and Cambodia if you must know. No cockroaches or spiders for sale here.) The thing that I just can't get my head around is this: How is it possible to buy meat or fish that has been sitting out in the sun for hours covered in flies, take it home, cook it, eat it, and not die?
I'm no zoologist, but that tail is a giveaway. That ain't a sheep.
Frog, anyone?
Steggles are ripping us off in Australia. How come we don't get the feet attached ??
Look, no hands! How do they do that? Respect!
I can remember way back in 77, they were busy knocking down whole suburbs in Singapore, to build flash new apartment towers. They were still doing it in 2008, and the results are there for all to see. That is what Asia used to look like.
This is what a lot of Yangon still looks like, although most apartments now seem to have air conditioning. And of course, the satellite dishes go without saying. What's black and crisp and hangs from electricity poles? Anybody who touches one.
Moving on, here are some of the older colonial era buildings. Complete with foliage growing from the nooks and crannies.
St Mary's Cathedral took me by surprise, and its pretty good, but there are also mosques here as well. Tolerance? Good! I hope so.
Then it was time to get over to see the reclining Buddah. Of course, this was covered in scaffold as well, due to major maintenance. Not sure if this is the biggest going around, but it must be up there. One of the interesting customs here is to offer gifts or petitions or hopes and dreams to the Buddah. These are placed in a basket and hauled up on a rope by the supplicants to a golden doorway surrounded by cut-out clouds. Where some guy unloads the basket and sends it back down, and everybody is happy. See earlier photos, but there is one of these on the Schwedegon Pagoda too, only yesterday I didn't know what it was!
Notice everyone has bare feet. It was shoes and socks off again, no ifs or buts. And this time there was a sign in English (well, sort of) for the Westerners to get the message.
A short ride on a local train followed. It was rough and ready. Oh, and it didn't have any doors either. There were guys selling stuff, mainly bottled water and snacks, people and animals walking across the tracks, rubbish and shit everywhere, the whole catastrophe. Disastrous but funny at the same time. And it got me thinking. I reckon our sense of self preservation in the western world has been replaced by a blame-somebody-else culture, and we are the poorer for it. Too late to put that genie back in the bottle!
The train ride finished at a large indoor market, specialising in jewellery and textiles, both of which are big industries in Myanmar, and I expect to see a lot more of this whether I want to or not. I might be able to pick up a bargain, like a genuine high-end handbag from Paris.
Or maybe from Pabis, wherever the hell that is.
And to finish, here are the twin lions guarding the Eastern (and the most significant) entry to the Schwedagon Pagoda., which was too dark to photograph last night. Talk about dedication.
They day began with the obligatory visit to a street market, this one selling mostly produce. The kind of operation that springs up at short notice, then disappears when it's time to reopen the street to traffic. I have now seen plenty of these in Asia and knew what to expect. It was gut churning in places, but I have seen worse. (In Laos and Cambodia if you must know. No cockroaches or spiders for sale here.) The thing that I just can't get my head around is this: How is it possible to buy meat or fish that has been sitting out in the sun for hours covered in flies, take it home, cook it, eat it, and not die?
I'm no zoologist, but that tail is a giveaway. That ain't a sheep.
Frog, anyone?
Steggles are ripping us off in Australia. How come we don't get the feet attached ??
Look, no hands! How do they do that? Respect!
I can remember way back in 77, they were busy knocking down whole suburbs in Singapore, to build flash new apartment towers. They were still doing it in 2008, and the results are there for all to see. That is what Asia used to look like.
This is what a lot of Yangon still looks like, although most apartments now seem to have air conditioning. And of course, the satellite dishes go without saying. What's black and crisp and hangs from electricity poles? Anybody who touches one.
Moving on, here are some of the older colonial era buildings. Complete with foliage growing from the nooks and crannies.
St Mary's Cathedral took me by surprise, and its pretty good, but there are also mosques here as well. Tolerance? Good! I hope so.
Then it was time to get over to see the reclining Buddah. Of course, this was covered in scaffold as well, due to major maintenance. Not sure if this is the biggest going around, but it must be up there. One of the interesting customs here is to offer gifts or petitions or hopes and dreams to the Buddah. These are placed in a basket and hauled up on a rope by the supplicants to a golden doorway surrounded by cut-out clouds. Where some guy unloads the basket and sends it back down, and everybody is happy. See earlier photos, but there is one of these on the Schwedegon Pagoda too, only yesterday I didn't know what it was!
Notice everyone has bare feet. It was shoes and socks off again, no ifs or buts. And this time there was a sign in English (well, sort of) for the Westerners to get the message.
A short ride on a local train followed. It was rough and ready. Oh, and it didn't have any doors either. There were guys selling stuff, mainly bottled water and snacks, people and animals walking across the tracks, rubbish and shit everywhere, the whole catastrophe. Disastrous but funny at the same time. And it got me thinking. I reckon our sense of self preservation in the western world has been replaced by a blame-somebody-else culture, and we are the poorer for it. Too late to put that genie back in the bottle!
The train ride finished at a large indoor market, specialising in jewellery and textiles, both of which are big industries in Myanmar, and I expect to see a lot more of this whether I want to or not. I might be able to pick up a bargain, like a genuine high-end handbag from Paris.
Or maybe from Pabis, wherever the hell that is.
And to finish, here are the twin lions guarding the Eastern (and the most significant) entry to the Schwedagon Pagoda., which was too dark to photograph last night. Talk about dedication.
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