Peeking Beneath a Monk's Robes

Eric:
Ever wonder what a monk wears under his robes?  Your questions answered here!  Walking beside a monastery the other day, I came across an unoccupied collection of monk robes. 

A few steps further along, their presumptive owners [yes, monks do "own" their robes, I checked] were doing battle on a makeshift football pitch.

Becoming one with the ball

That's it, there's no story here, I just thought it made a cool picture.  Note the makeshift stick goal to the right of the photo.


Now if you're as culturally insensitive as me, then your first reaction at viewing the image below is "SKATEPARK!", but in fact the monument is a somber reminder of a couple of tragic events.

This is the Tomb of the Martyrs, where the remains of Burma independence hero Aung San and six cabinet members, all of whom were gunned down in a coup in 1947 are interred.  It also contains an assortment of other remains.  The wife of Burma’s last king, a famous nationalist writer, former UN Secretary-General U Thant, and Aung San Suu Kyi’s mother. 

Following the democracy uprising of 1988, fearing that a gathering there could spark further unrest, the tomb has only been open to the public one day a year, July 19 - the national  holiday commemorating the date of Aung San's assassination.  In 2013 however, the regime apparently decided that allowing access to Southeast Asia's coolest skatepark might not actually destabilize the government, so they transferred control of grounds to local authorities and it is now open to the public year round.  I'm not sure that word of this opening has gotten out because the day I was there, I didn't see another soul.  In fact even the guards who are supposed to collect the entrance fee (300 Kyat [about 30 cents] for locals, USD $3 for foreigners) were nowhere to be seen.  Only some fresh flowers indicated that there had been at least one other visitor that day.

 

Originally, there was a much grander and more traditional structure on the site, but it was bombed by North Korean commandoes in a 1983 assassination attempt on visiting South Korean president Chun Doo-Hwan.

President Hwan’s motorcade was delayed and narrowly escaped the blast, but 19 others were killed, and 48 seriously injured, including several top South Korean government officials.  Though North Korea never acknowledged responsibility for the attack, one of the commandoes was captured alive and confessed details of the mission.

 

Fresh flowers with an inscription in Korean placed at the base of the monument the day I visited

The bombing resulted in a break in diplomatic relations between Burma and N. Korea from 1983 until 2007, though a covert relationship has been revealed to have been established as far back as 2002.  The cooperation included North Korean arms sales and later, technical assistance to the military junta in establishing a network of secret underground tunnels in the newly built Myanmar capitol city Nay Pyi Taw.  The tunnels are believed to have been built to provide regime officials a place to hole up in the event of a general uprising.   I’m not sure if the government has ever officially acknowledged existence of these tunnels, but there are some videos on YouTube (which of course I cannot see because there is not enough bandwidth here!).


In other news...

The following notice posted in the Myanmar Times a few days ago:


Really?  Who knew I was living in the global epicenter of counterfeit Spam?

Today I was tasked by Rossana with getting one of her high-heeled shoes repaired while she was at work.  Today I also discovered that there are no shoe repair businesses in Yangon.  Seriously, the Yellow Pages jump directly from "Shoes" to "Slippers".  Upon reflection, I should not have been too surprised at this.  Except for the most formal occasions, just about the entire population wears flip flops.  Still, I've been to enough bars/nightclubs packed with mini-skirted, high heeled party girls to believe that with the quality of Yangon's sidewalks, they must blow out a heel now and again.


Help Wanted:  Heel Technician



An internet search yielded no help, but a question I posted to one of the local online bulletin boards got a quick, though rather imprecise response "downtown".  Undeterred, I headed downtown.  I started my quest at sort of ground zero for downtown, Sule Pagoda.  Not the biggest, oldest, or prettiest of Yangon's pagodas, it's still the chief landmark of the downtown area.

 

At this distance you don't notice the cellular phone shops, currency exchange bureaus, and travel agencies that make up the base of the pagoda

Before I could start asking for directions, I encountered this Public Mobile Urination Room.  A bemused street vendor seeing me take this photo translated the notice by the door (and I quote), "Room for peeing - do not poo".  It didn't occur to me at the time, but this unit must have a live attendant somewhere.  There are no coins in Myanmar currency any more, so somebody must have the job of collecting the 100 Kyat toll (about 10 cents).  I wonder if they get a commission?

 

Do you think this is really mobile?  Do they drive it around town to different locations?

Heading first towards Chinatown I passed a lot of repair shops.  Fan repair, computer repair, umbrella repair, electric motor repair, watch repair, even these guys, who I'm not really sure what they were doing - something involving poles and coconut husks:

 

 

  

After asking many, many people - few of whom understood English, and fewer of whom knew what shoe repair was, I was finally directed by the betel-nut vendor below to a nearby street and assured that I couldn't miss the shoe repair guy. 

 

How to prepare betel nut.  First you smear white lime paste on the betel vine leaf and then sprinkle an assortment of cloves, aniseed, and/or cardamom, then the betel nut.  For some, you top it all off with  alcohol marinated tobacco.  Then roll it up and pop into your mouth and chew.  And spit, often.  Red spit.  Slightly narcotic, it supposedly inhibits appetite and helps rid you of parasites. 

 



Oh, and it also turns your teeth and gums red
Photo credit:  ladventures.com



 

Of course I did miss him.  Several times.  Eventually, a street vendor who duplicates keys just about escorted me to the right spot.  That's him below in the white ball cap in front of his um, workbench.

 

I don't understand how I could have missed him

 

Nonetheless, he seemed to know what  he was doing, did the repair on the spot, and the total repair bill came to 500 Kyat (about 50 cents). 

Note the truck tire that he is seated on while he braces Rossana's shoe between his feet

And he didn't even ask me what I was doing with a pair of high heels.

Magic Land

Eric:

Much of the shoreline of the lake that we live on is either occupied by the military or is privately owned.  The military zone is off limits, but some of the private land is accessible to the public, sometimes for a modest fee.  This is the case with a stretch of the shore about a half mile from our apartment. 

From the roadway, you can see a rather ancient Ferris wheel and a driving range with golfers whacking golf balls into the waters of the lake.  While I often see golfers at the range, walking by yesterday with Rossana was the first time I’ve actually seen the Ferris wheel in action.  It was moving so slowly, I first thought it was just turning in the wind, but in reality it takes about 20 minutes to complete a single revolution.  Kinda makes the London Eye look like a thrill ride. 

Ferris wheel with driving range on the left

We also noticed indications that there was more of an amusement park that occupied the space at one time.  If the road barriers are to be believed, the amusement park was called Magic Land, but it appears to have lost its magic, if not its charm. 

Feel the magic!

Today, I decided to invest in a visit, so I paid the entrance fee of 200Kyat (about 20 cents) to check out the magic for myself. 

When I approached the Ferris wheel, the only sign of life was a young couple  um, getting acquainted behind an umbrella on the lawn at the base of the ride (I’m planning a whole separate post someday about the local custom of using an umbrella to create a screen to fool around behind).



Get a room!

While I was snapping photos, a car drove up and honked a few times at the guards lounging outside the neighboring driving range, and apparently indicated to them that they wanted to ride the Ferris wheel.  I saw one of the guards dial his mobile phone and a minute or two later, a guy trotted over from somewhere to operate the ride for them. 

 

Further along the trail there’s an abandoned Tilt-O-Wheel ride (at least that’s what they called it at Playland at the Beach).  No amount of honking is going to get this ride spinning again. 

Does anyone know if these are still in use somewhere?

The ticket booth next to the Tilt-O-Wheel doesn’t look to be in any better shape than the ride.

But when I walked around to the other side of it, there was someone inside seemingly staffing the booth. 

How much paperwork can there possibly be?

The only other “attraction” nearby to the booth was a bumper card ride, but it looks to have been retired at about the same time as the Tilt-O-Wheel, so I’ve no clue what paperwork this woman was working on inside the booth.  Maybe it was her homework.

The end of a bumpy road

 

The highlight of the afternoon though was when I stumbled across this locomotive graveyard. 

 

 


This one even has some wood in the tender to build up the fire in the boiler

And as I was leaving the park, the folks who had gotten on the Ferris wheel were just completing their circuit. 

Riding the Rails

Eric:

Like a lot of major metropolitan transit systems, London, Paris, Moscow, Shanghai to name a few, Yangon has the “Yangon Circular Railway” that orbits the greater metro area providing commuter service from outlying areas to downtown.  Not too surprisingly, the Yangon version in no way resembles the modern, efficient systems in these other cities.  No raised platforms, no quiet, electrified engines, no automated ticketing machines, and a train that moves only slightly faster than I can run.  Sort of taking the “rapid” out of rapid transit.

For foreigners, there is only one place to start your journey, the downtown Central Railway Station.  A somewhat unique public structure in that it was built after the British had made their departure (the original British built station was first repeatedly bombed by the Japanese, and ultimately blown up by the retreating British in 1943).

Central railway station, built in 1954 - design based on traditional Burmese architectural style

Here you first present your passport, the details of which are painstakingly recorded by hand in a large ledger.  Then you surrender your pristine $1 bill (US currency only), and the agent carefully handwrites your “foreigner ticket” and directs you to wait outside for your train.



Ticket for two

 

After months of talking about it, Rossana and I made the journey last weekend.  Once ticketed, and after sitting for on the station platform for a few minutes, the ticket agent abruptly tells us to hurry to board our train on an adjacent platform which is preparing to depart.  A train that has been sitting there at least as long as we had been.

The Circular Railway itself is 31 miles (45.9 kilometers) around, with 39 stations and an entire circuit takes in the neighborhood of three rather bone jarring hours to complete.  Like so much in Yangon, aforementioned Central Station aside, the rail system was built by the British, and appears to have received little in the way of upkeep or improvements since their departure.  Passenger carriages are not air conditioned, with no doors or window glass.  A wooden plank can be lowered in lieu of a window to close off the elements during monsoon season – though I can only imagine how stuffy it must become when this happens.  I’m only mildly surprised they aren’t still using steam locomotives.                                                 

I'm only sure this locomotive isn't still in use because it's so clean

                             

In fact, signs of the steam era are still in evidence alongside the rails.

Artsy B&W pic I took of a surviving steam locomotive water crane

                                                                        

Once underway, the scenery quickly changes from the urban skyline of downtown to a decidedly rural landscape with crops of unknown vegetation planted right up to the tracks.

 

Not sure what they're growing in that marsh, but I've doubtless eaten some of it



Farmer cares for his crop in waist deep water

Further evidence you are beyond the confines of the city also become apparent in the smell, as you quickly pass beyond areas served by public sewers, and trash collection.


Local rubbish dump sits between settlement and the tracks

  The journey itself is less like a commute than a movable party.  Vendors move from car to car with baskets of various items for sale.  Some for immediate consumption, others selling flowers, toys, and most anything else that can be lifted into a rail car. 


Would you like fries with that?

 


The center aisle of the carriage is public space for whatever oversized possessions you care to lug aboard

 

Bundles of produce to be sold on the train or at market

 And the ubiquitous beetle nut vendor.


Thankfully, people lean out the windows to spit



Heading to a party!

Several stations have markets set up along the platforms selling food, flowers, and much more.

 

 As we were seated in the last carriage of the train, we also got to observe the train’s flagman.  His job appears to consist of sitting in the window and waiving a green flag at the Engineer at each stop, giving the go ahead to proceed.  He had a red flag too, but we never got to see that one in use.

Flagman preparing to waive the all clear

For locals, the fare is much lower.  Travel from 0-15 miles costs 10 Kyat (about 9 cents US), and beyond 15 miles, 20Kyat (about 18 cents).  Though I don’t know how or where locals buy their tickets, I never saw anybody selling them anywhere except the central station, and during our entire journey, a conductor only came by to check tickets twice – both times within a couple minutes of each other.

A news article last week heralded the intention to launch a new train early in 2014, complete with radical innovations like glass windows and air conditioning.  This as the government attempts to ready the rail network for privatization.  A tough sell for a system that reportedly costs US$325,000 per month to operate while generating only US$52,000.  Fare for foreigners on the new train will double to $2.   

It's been several weeks since my last post, so here's a few assorted photos that I've snapped along the way with no particular theme. 

Ford F-150, eat your heart out

 
Came across this boat which appears to be on the verge of becoming a submarine, although the people onboard appeared quite unconcerned and were enjoying a leisurely lunch.


Up periscope!

 
You come across a lot of these roadside vendors in Yangon.  At first glance, I thought they were selling liquor, but once you get within smelling distance, it's apparent that they're actually selling gasoline, and other fuels.  I couldn't figure this out as there is no shortage of gas stations around town.  I mean, who would rather buy this "mystery gas", never mind having to add it a quart at a time...


Do you think the Black Label bottles contain a better grade of gas than the Red Label?



Smoke at your own peril

And then the other day, I was in a taxi and we ran out of gas.  Nonplussed, the cab driver got out, waved his arm, and one of these "gas station" guys came trotting over with a Jonnie Walker bottle of petrol.  Some cash changed hands, and moments later we were on our way.  As best I can figure, there are a lot of drivers who cannot afford to fill up their cars, and rely on these gypsy gas stations for just enough gas to get home.

Goin' to the hoosegow!  A police paddy wagon loaded with prisoners rolls by (is calling it a paddy wagon politically incorrect?)

Another river image, this one of laborers unloading baskets of gravel from a barge onto the shore.  Talk about walking the plank...


Is this how the Great Pyramids were built?

I can only imagine the message this sign is attempting to convey

Those fried crickets are sounding better and better

 Bad day to be a duck. 


Ducks hanging out to dry in the noonday sun atop my local BBQ restaurant

A few folks have asked me about how/if Christmas is celebrated in Myanmar.  Here's your answer:

Basket O'Santa's for sale at a local supermarket - admittedly a rather upscale market frequented by the Yangon expat community



The stockings were hung by the um, basketball court with care....  Outside what looks like an elementary school or daycare center

They also string Christmas lights on anything not moving.  Lots and lots of Christmas lights.  Even the large Catholic church downtown was strung with more lights than the typical American shopping mall.  Rossana and I were riding in a car the other day and there was an English language childrens'(?) program on the radio explaining the intricacies of Santa Claus, and how to make your Christmas list. 

As our apartment is on the 4th floor, we're more or less at treetop level.  A great vantage point to witness an interesting phenomenon that takes place each evening just before sunset.  For no obvious reason, every bird in the hemisphere seems to take to the skies for five or ten minutes.   They'll fly around, make a bunch of noise, and then just as quickly, settle back into the treetops for the evening. 

Apartment buildings in Yangon seldom rise more than 8 stories.  This is because of local regulations that call for elevators (and the back up power supply necessary to support them) in buildings of 9 stories or more.  As a result, it's common to see long lengths of cord dangling from the upper floors of many buildings with a binder clip or plastic bag affixed to the bottom.  This is used to raise various purchases from the street level without having to clomp down eight flights of stairs just to pick up your evening newspaper, or the carrots that some vendor is peddling.   

Low tech freight elevator

Parting shot:

This isn't even Yangon, but Rossana and I were in Bangkok for a couple days around Christmas and I took this fun picture of the neighboring balconies from our hotel.