Our day touring starts at the 2500 year old Shwedagon Pagoda, the largest Buddhist shrine of its kind in Myanmar. Upon entering, I immediately started laughing as I see the sign directly in front of where I am removing my shoes. NO SPAGHETTI BLOUSE ALLOWED! At the bottom of the sign, the last line informs us that this was donated by the Italian Speaking Tour Guide. I don’t know if this is their way of making us chuckle or the truth. The way in which signage is written or certain thoughts expressed in English here is a book of humor in itself. Example: Hair Saloon instead of Salon.

At Shwedagon, the main central gold plated pagoda is roughly 360 feet tall, encrusted with thousands of rubies, sapphires and other precious stones along with a 76 carat diamond at the pinnacle. At the street level, such gems are impossible to see with the eye, so we just took their word for it. Besides being surrounded by several smaller shrines and 64 stupas, it has 8 enshrined hairs of Buddha and a relic replica of his tooth that looked enormous in size. Statues of Buddha are everywhere--gigantic ones towering above you as well as smaller versions that reside in wooden boxes. Found reclining or sitting, arms crossed or one hand raised, draped and bejeweled, some even have an electronic Technicolor light show beaming from behind their heads. The scent of incense hangs heavy in the air; fruit offerings and strands of flowers adorn shrines and lit candles. Everyday worshipers along with the saffron cloaked monks sit, meditate and pray. We are thankful that it is morning and the ceramic tiles have not had the heat of the day to bring them to a boil on our naked feet. There are grand gates scattered throughout the shrine leading to ornate open air structures. Table top watering stations hold a Buddha seated above and a lower basin which houses an animal statue. All are set up around the interior in a circle around the base of the main pagoda and coincide to the days of the week. You are to select the day you were born and pour water over the Buddha at that location. Massive iron bells with intricate carvings and writings hang from supporting beams about every 30 feet. Large bamboo pieces are used to strike the bell when it is said that a good work has been performed. Children and aged alike pick up the wooden sticks to hit the bell repeatedly.

One of my goals on this trip was to visit the only synagogue in Burma. I was going to split from my group to seek Musmeah Yeshua (meaning: to Sprout Salvation) Synagogue on my own, but found that my new friends were excited to see it as well. After the Buddhist stop, we were on to the Jewish site. One would be hard pressed to find the synagogue amidst the shop vendors at 85, 26th street without a local. Thankfully, we had Pa Oak. Moses Samuels is the caretaker who maintains the synagogue that dates from 1854; his grandfather was one of the founders. There were 3000 Jews who originally came from Iraq and Iran and Mr. Samuels descendants arrived from Baghdad. In 1962, when the political situation changed and most Jews departed, it left only 8 families with a total of 20 Jews in this community. Behind the Ark curtain, sit two Torah Scrolls encased in ornate silver boxes with etched Hebrew writing. I asked the dates of the Scrolls and with the language barrier only understood that they came with the immigrants, so they are at least from before 1854, if not earlier. The synagogue itself has an upper women’s chamber and a raised Bimah in the middle of the main level. Several black and white photos of visiting Israeli Prime Ministers and dignitaries from over the years adorn the back section of the synagogue. It is amazing how well preserved the building is considering Myanmar’s climate and so few congregants.

On to the famous Bogyoke Market whose pavilion like structure is the size of a small city block. In the overflowing stalls, one can find anything you would associate with traditional Burmese culture and fare. Every shade of jade resides next to prayer beads and other precious jewels of the country. Fruits and vegetables some known to me and others in shapes more akin to another planet lie piled in baskets and trays. Tucked back into caves of colorful folded fabrics, sit ladies at sewing machines or on the floor eating rice bowls for lunch. With not much time for shopping, I had a few items I wanted to seek out, specifically the Longhyi (the traditional wrap skirt for men & women in Myanmar). One of the nationals accompanying our group told me he would take me to a good shop and translate if necessary. In looking at people on the street since arriving, I determined I liked the men’s selection of fabric better than the women’s. Once we arrived at the store, I explained this fact to Pa Oak and he had a horrified look on his face. Basically he was saying it is not culturally correct for a woman to buy a man’s fabric. I understood it would be wrong if I was wearing it in Yangon, but trust me the people at my lake in Indiana are not going to care. After pointing out to him the Men’s longyhi’s I wanted, he laughed and then told the clerk something in Burmese. The next thing I knew, my purchases were in a bag and I was trying to figure out the correct kyats to hand her. When we left, he said that he told the sales woman I was buying it for my husband. Ha! There is a beauty in traditions.

Local children follow you through the maze of booths, speaking bits of English in an attempt to persuade you to buy the ladder of postcards they display in plastic sleeves. Of course, I couldn’t resist. Unknowingly, after one child sees you buy from another, you become their next target, a pied piper of sorts with a trail of children following. One little girl as cute as could be would not leave my side, “please Madame, they are beautiful handmade” she cooed. As politely as I could, I kept showing her that I had bought from the other boy and that I didn’t need any more. I would leave the area or go in a shop and the next moment I returned, there she was Pretty Painted Little *Thanka Face. In the end, she walked with me as I left the market heading to our tour bus down the street. I finally turned to her and said she was a wonderful sales girl and although I didn’t need to buy any more posts, here is a kyat ($1) for being so persistent. You will have the occasional selling by little ones as I have described, but there is no begging to speak of at all.

*Thanka is a cream paste which is made from ground bark, wood and roots of several different types of native trees. It is said to protect the skin much like a sunscreen and has been used here for over 2000 years. Everywhere throughout the country you see it smeared on the faces of women and children. They truly love white faces and don’t want their skin to turn darker in the sun. Sometimes it will look very decorative with designs and other times like a momma just swiped a handful over her baby’s cherub cheeks.

The next stop was St. Mary’s Catholic Cathedral built in 1899. The architecture, somewhat Byzantine in nature, was very interesting. There were no guides so we read what little there was about the date of its establishment and perused the sanctuary.

Tea at the Strand was our next reservation, just for the ladies. With the Yangon River to your back, you walk through the front doors of the Strand Hotel and it’s as if it is 1901 or you are back in the heyday and luxury of the British Empire. The teak and marble floors along with the original metal elevator transport you back in time as Burmese waiters bend low to offer assistance. After the heat and touring of the day, the cool from the whirling ceiling fans provide a nice welcome. As you are seated on a long bench propped with rolled and square pillows, the atmosphere makes you feel like a princess. There are two options when ordering--Classic English Tea or Myanmar Tea. Our entire group went English. I selected the Jasmine tea and it was the most fragrant, delicious tea I have ever sipped. Each duo of ladies shared a three tiered display starting with finger sandwiches of petite chicken brioche with herb mayonnaise, Bay of Bengal shrimp pinwheels with toasted sesame, cucumber cubism on white with sour cream and caviar, and five spices smoked butterfish. These were paired with my favorite--the lemon curd meringue tart, as well as chocolate jaffa torte, fresh fruit tartlets with vanilla cream and Myanmar jasmine jellies. The final accompaniment, traditional round scones spread with homemade raspberry preserves and clotted cream, put an exclamation point on our wonderful afternoon! Besides the outstanding food and historic surroundings, it was the first time that the women in our group had a chance to converse and get to know each other better, so it was delightful.

Back on the bus with the guys, we make our two final destinations of the day. First, to the Yangon River where we walked the dock eyeing local fisherman at break, boys cooling with a splash and the larger shipping vessels casting off. Our final stop, was the Protestant church named for Adoniram Judson. He is one of the earliest and most famous missionaries to Burma and is credited with spreading Christianity as well as with translating the New Testament Scriptures into Burmese. I found it interesting that the entire church had Stars of David throughout the architecture both inside and out.

Fishermen on break under the bridge out of the sun

Another lovely day in Yangon having my mind expanded taking in the sights, smells, religions and flavors of this magnificent country. As always I enjoyed “the group” with its creative banter and unending, infectious laughter!

So Live

Unearthing the Savored Life