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| My train |
Anyhow, part of the reason I opted for the train was that
it’s monsoon season and I expected the rains to come down for a good part of
the day. I kind of pictured looking at Gilligan from the safe, enclosed space
of an air-conditioned train. I swear something I read on the train said
air-conditioned. It lied, although I suppose you can call chugging slowly along
in a car with no closing windows or doors “air conditioning,” at least in a
developing world.
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| Never seen these before |
But it was fine, because it didn’t even rain. Quite
stupidly, I was a little disappointed because I’d lugged my raincoat with me
and it’s kinda bulky, although an awesome raincoat. (Purchased before service
at Eddie Bauer in Delaware
– probably the best pre-State splurge I’ve made.) It did rain the day before
and the day after, but that day was fairly nice as far as weather goes. I mean
yeah, I was sweating through everything, but still.
Guangzhou seems to be about
the same weather as Rangoon, but for whatever
reason, Rangoon
just seemed so much worse. It was just so hot.
 |
| Reminded me of the Haunted Mansion |
The train was really fun. Even though it’s not tourist
season, there were four other tourists on the train. Randomly, I talked to a
woman from Taiwan
who was staying at my very same hotel. That woman was the most well-traveled
I’ve ever met. She was wearing a Delta shirt the next morning, and I asked if
she worked there. She said she had. In talking to her then, she mentioned
working in Africa for a year at orphanages (Malawi,
Mozambique and Namibia), suggested Peru
as the place to start exploring South America, gave me some good New Zealand suggestions and mentioned Mongolia and Kyrgyzstan as having the best
starry night views. And none of that in a bragging way. In fact, on the train,
I took her as a 30-something backpacker. The next day – we ran into each other
at breakfast – I realized she was probably a 50-something woman.
Back to the train. It was really a lot of fun. At one point,
when we were at the furthest point from the city center, we pulled up and
suddenly, people started throwing these mega- bushel bags of veggies and greens
in through the windows and other assorted activity. That five-minute stop saw
more action than the other combined.
The scenery was fun, very Southeastern Asian. Greenery
everywhere, drying laundry everywhere, and garbage everywhere. Everyone was
nice and, unlike when I’m on trains in China, no one really gaped at me
like they tend to do.
The first day I arrived, I met up with a pre-arranged tour
guide and saw the highlights of Rangoon.
The first, on paper, was a “cave.” The tour guide told me it was a “man-made”
cave and I took this to mean one of the China-like things that are so fake. It
turns out it was actually a temple thing built out of jade pieces. Jade’s big
here. It really was cool, but I was thinking caves like bats and this really
was a temple-ish thing with stadium seating. It was kind of a basketball-court
sized thing where apparently monks gathered for some training or something.
Anyway, it was nice and I think I can honestly say that I haven’t seen anything
quite like it.
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| Vendor at the busy market train stop |
The big thing in Rangoon
is the Shewedagon
Pagoda, which is this 45-acre ostentatious Budda thing that dates back 2000
years, they said. It was so gaudy it amused me greatly. People think
Christianity is out for money – good grief, they should see this. A 75-carat
diamond topping a 100-meter-high tower that no one could see anyway. There was
some Buddha that was gold and people could pay for this condom-size package
with some gold flakes and smear it onto the statue. The pagoda itself originally
was 20 meters tall and has been added on yearly, it seems. People also pay for
“jewels” (this is what it said in the description) to buy prayers or something.
There were all kinds of those. The place was just insane. I couldn’t believe
the money people just handed over to build that thing.
 |
| The "cave" |
But
it was nice to see and really is the thing to do while in Rangoon,
also known as Yangon. (I don’t know all the
politics, but the U.S.
federal government doesn’t refer to it as “Myanmar”
and “Yangon.” It’s “Burma”
and “Rangoon.”
There
was also a nice garden (Kandawgyi
Lake), another big, reclining
Buddha – my third, I think – and a cool market. Markets are really nice to
wander around in, but I’m not at all into buying stuff so it got old after
awhile.
On
Monday, I visited a friend whom I’d met in Ft. Lauderdale.
It was a wonderful visit. I got visit her, meet her husband, eat a nice meal,
get a massage and a haircut.
The
prices in Burma
are fantastic, but tough to predict. After my day with the guide, I wandered
around in the area of my hotel – Chinatown –
and had a fabulous street meal. It came to 80 cents. A Coke, purchased after
dinner, cost double that. The taxi ride was cheap in comparison to the U.S. but seemed
out of proportion to some other things.
That’s
one tough thing I find about traveling. I go to a lot of places and countries
where it’s expected to bargain, but it makes it really difficult if you have
absolutely no idea what the going rate is for X product. I might know what X
product sells for in the U.S.,
China, Morocco and even Indonesia, but if I’m in No Man’s
Land, that’s useless. I have no idea of its value to begin negotiating.
So
I tend to just tend to skip that part and either pay what they’re asking or –
and this is far more common for me – just walk away. I figure I’ve lived
without whatever it is for this long, it’s clearly not something I need.
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| The pagoda |
My
next trip is undetermined. As I mentioned, I’m not going to be going to Katmandu – Rona came
through and AmEx already credited my refund – but I haven’t come up with a
location. I mean, I have some options, but the flights are either too much for
four days, have bad connections or I’ve already been there.
Today,
I am “packing out” a colleague. This means I go through all his and his wife’s
stuff and get it all ready to be shipped out. It’s really been an ordeal. It’s
also really uncomfortable. I mean, I’m way in their business, knowing what
foods they have, what booze they have (I had to unload all of that because none
of it can be packed out), what kind of birth control they use, etc. But there’s
no way around it. Early on, another person had to get packed out, though not by
me. I offered to help at the time but the other person had it under control.
The big boss said that at some point in this kind of career, you have to do it
for a friend. I really hope this is my turn and I don’t get another time at the
plate.
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