Today, after riding the continuous current of exploration, it is hard to believe that there could be more in store but I am finding that every day in Burma is a navigational nirvana.

My bungalow at Aya Thar Udi Golf Resort — My bungalow at Aya Thar Udi Golf Resort

Aya Thar Udi Golf Resort is the lovely accommodations for the Inle Lake part of the trip. Upon arriving, we were all taken aback at seeing lady caddies accompanying the foursomes on the course complete with woven hats barring the sun. Another group of smiling women holding trays of orange yellowish juice reminiscent of Tang greeted us as we descended from the bus. A-framed wooden cabanas lie scattered along a meandering trail replete with native scraggy pines. After an event filled day on the lake, retiring to the dining room of the golf resort to devour new delicacies was on par. One of the foods considered a Burmese staple is the Fermented Tea Leaf Salad. I had yet to try it and was anxiously awaiting the opportunity to find it on a menu--well tonight is the night. The tea leaves after being steeped, drained and refrigerated for up to 24 hours get combined in a brine consisting of garlic paste, sesame oil, ginger, salt, lime, scallions, cilantro and kale. All the contents sit covered in a dark cool space unrefrigerated. After 2 days of marinating, the tea leaf mixture is ready to be added to toasted sesame and pumpkin seeds along with roasted soy beans and a splash of fish oil. Tomatoes, peppers and dried shrimp can also be a part of the salad if one so desires. The flavors are fabulous, melding together with the various crunchy bits rounding out the textures quite nicely. Definitely a dish I will try to recreate at home.

Fermented Tea Leaf Salad-YUM! Doesn't photograph as well as it tastes

The lovely lake air that enveloped my being and gave me new breath will hopefully create dreams of the “Excellent Extravaganza” in my head reminding me of Inle and allowing me to sleep peacefully and sound.

Awaking from wonderful zzzzz’s, a new day of discovery starts at the handmade Paper Umbrella Factory. The remarkable process begins with the bark of the mulberry tree as it is soaked in water until becoming malleable and rolled into a ball. The continuous pounding with a wooden mallet allows the fibers to break down enabling it to be stretched across a bamboo frame. Decorative touches are added with flower petals, leaves and herbs. The rack is then tilted and angled to absorb the warmth of the sun. With the drying of the paper complete, it is now peeled from the casing to be attached to the bamboo spokes and handle. Tiny parasols measuring about a foot all the way up to picnic table size versions are made by the talented craftsmen and available for purchase. Yes, I of course had to buy some small specimens for my favorite munchkins.

Wood Lathe the Burmese way powered by leg, longyi and bamboo — Wood Lathe the Burmese way powered by leg, longyi and bamboo

Tools of the handmade umbrella trade made complete with adorable woven seat cushion

Umbrellas hanging in all sizes and colors

The place scheduled for eating lunch was unfortunately closed and the establishment we ended up at was a little less than this foodie's number one choice. Many ate bowls of rice or corn. I passed and proceeded to dive into my stash of Buc-ee's Beef Jerky that had accompanied me on the trip for such a time as this. For the record, I did share. Someone popped into a convenience store of sorts after lunch and bought several bags of Burmese potato chips that were passed down the rows of the bus and polished off. I don't know what type of oil they use, but they are greasy, crispy and scrumptious!

BUC-EE'S does Burma, I am sure it is a first!

Stopping at the pinnacle of the town of Taunggyi, another Buddhist pagoda sits watch over the distant sprawling slopes. A casual peruse around the perimeter with a few photo ops and then we continued sharing our personal stories as the wheels on the bus go round and round.

The gate to enter the summit overlooking the town of Taunggyi

Just as the water moved us back and forth and in and out, the roads of Shan State do the same. The panoramic views are grand in every direction weaving through the undulating hills like a needle and thread. Each bend in the road reveals a stitch in the tapestry more brilliant and fascinating than the one just glimpsed before. A patch of young women with Thanaka painted faces cover their bodies from head to toe trying to keep out the blazing sun while repairing roads as a male foreman snoozes feet away. Turn your head and glance at the perfect posture balancing a bevy of items effortlessly while walking on uneven terrain like it was air.

Every stitch is remarkable in this tapestry called Myanmar

No hands, perfectly balanced — No hands, perfectly balanced

We were told of caves a mere 45 minutes away that we might find enjoyable and of course wanting to add to the already exhilarating adventure, our group was up for the challenge. The ebb and flow of the bus after one hour and a half was enough to make us want to rethink our arrival at the Buddhist Caves, especially pondering the fact that we would be traversing the same territory on the return trip. Welcomed by bright flashing electronic signage (not quite what I expected) and Buddhist monks seated on chairs behind a long banquet table outside the entrance, a fee the equivalent of $10 was paid. Our group negotiated a group rate, since we didn't even think there was a charge. Stepping through the passageway, we entered the land of stalactites-Buddhist style. Once again, Buddhists figures of every shape, size and color adorned the crevices and dripping stones. Miniatures of monks or nuns walking one behind the other in long lines would periodically sneak out around a rock. Most of the caverns were a muted grayish, carmely brown color with pockets of darkness leeching out where the dangling lights could not illuminate. Treading around the puddles, you feel large drops of water as they plop on the top of your head. Occasionally, you would encounter the wandering monk or worshiper with flowers in hand. The caves themselves are ok, but not as magnificent as the ones you have seen that tower way above you with shimmering colors jutting down. The amazing part is pondering how these huge statues were erected among the hanging stalactites. After a pit stop at the non-western toilets nestled over the bridge between the mountains, we were off again on our tilt-a-whirl bus ride.

Pictures (I assume) of important monks in the region — Pictures (I assume) of important monks in the region

Stalactites with seated statues of monks perched here and there

Single file replicas of monks carrying rice bowls

The sunset is stunning as the tour bus continues to sway and swerve making its way to the final stop on our last day here in the Shan State, Aythaya Vineyards. The open air restaurant overlooks the meticulous rows of grape arbors that grow following the curvature of the rolling landscape. This area is definitely known for its agricultural abilities yet the Burmese Wine Trade is a relatively new endeavor in these parts and can definitely be tasted as such. This vineyard was started in 1998 by some European investors and there are a few more vineyard ventures dotting the fertile soil nearby as well. The quiet relaxed setting with splendid views added to the deliciousness of our food and gave a perfect closure to this idyllic land of alluring delights.

Who would think you could find a Mexican restaurant in Yangon? Definitely not I. However, our great tour leaders being fellow Texans know all the hot spots. Sai’s Tacos located near the area of the U.S. Embassy is Muy Bueno. Yes, after this incredible day of “upliftedness,” we get to eat burritos, quesadillas, tacos, guac, beans, chips and salsa. Ole!!! None of it exactly tasted like traditional Tex-Mex, but it was extremely good and trust me we were happy Mexican Myanmar Travelers after that meal.

The leader of our group Kathy knew Barb (another groupie) as a kid growing up and they were involved in camp together. Later Barb and her husband Greg ran the same Washington State camp in their adult years. So every night we have campfire (without the actual wood burning and s’mores), a synopsis of the day’s activities. It is always a refreshing time, because you hear about others experiences that you may not have been a part of during the day. Today was such a day, with all of us going to house churches that were completely different from one another and many miles in every direction. As I posted on Facebook, “Forever changed after today” and I meant it.

Five of us are squished in a small taxi--the driver, the pastor of where we are going to worship along with Mark and Richard from the group and moi. On our way, windows rolled down, the breeze blowing as we cross the large bridge spanning the Yangon River. Most of my days have been spent around the central part of the city and now we are heading out to a more rural area where the roads consist of rocks and cratering holes. The dust once again surrounds me, but the pockets of trash strewn everywhere and piled high is more overwhelming than the dirt. The further we travel, the more chickens and cows we encounter as opposed to vehicles. My eyes must have been as wide as saucers taking in all these unfamiliar sights as Mark asks me if this is my first time seeing such things. He then proceeds to tell me that this is URBAN compared to the places of the world he travels to. URBAN, Whoa Nelly! Thankfully, I have had the opportunity to see many corners of the world and not all have been luxurious for sure. This has another feeling to me that I cannot quite yet grasp.

Climbing out of the vehicle and stepping on to precariously placed slats of wood that lay stretched across a luminescent green bubbly water ditch, we are welcomed to the two story woven bamboo and brick house by the pastor’s immaculately dressed petit wife. She is standing near their well. Only later would the significance of the well hit me as I would find that Truly Living Water was flowing inside this place. Our hosts offered us water as we waited downstairs for services to begin. In a short while, we climbed the rickety handmade ladder to the second floor where beaming faces like rays of sunshine appeared. Mostly children, youth, women, and no men to speak of (about 30 in all) sat quietly on the rattan floor. The three of us were seated together along the wall in chairs. A small table held a pitcher of water with glasses and a bouquet of flowers for our pleasure.

The service began with the song How Great Thou Art. The Burmese voices rang out strongly as I sang the words in English and pondered the depth. {O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds Thy hands have made. When through the woods and forest glades I wander and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees. When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur and hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze} Right now, in this place, I’m considering all the worlds Thy hands have made. This World before my very eyes that I have never known. I have wandered numerous lovely forests and heard the birds sing sweetly in the trees and looked down from many a lofty mountain grandeur, but have anyone of These? Yet, as I watched each visage, from the youngest to the oldest there was fervency and reverence, and a magnitude of Spirit I have missed in U.S. houses of worship. It is God centered. Every time the refrain was sung {Then sings my soul, How Great Thou Art, How Great Thou Art} the joy and love of God poured out of their beings. Even if they didn’t know or perceive any of the natural beauty they were singing about, it did not matter. They knew their God. Needless to say, by the first song, I was already in tears.

The singing continued with groups of children and youth in adoration of Adonai. My eyes focused on every face and the bamboo wall backdrop with the few cut outs for windows letting in little air. My mind wandered to summertime and thinking of how hot it must be in this space, as I was toasty now in winter. (Spoiled Girl am I) One by one, the three of us gave introductions and greetings along with any inspirational thoughts. I had brought mustard seeds and passed them out to every extended little palm. You would have thought I placed a priceless treasure in each hand, as they held it tenderly as I talked about faith the size of a mustard seed being enough to create the world and move mountains. Trust me, those in this room have enough faith to move several mountain ranges.

Many of the ladies stood and gave a greeting or testimony. In listening, you found out that most had taken in children from the street who had been abandoned. One woman had brought in 10 kids to her home. The pastor and his wife had three of their own children and took in seven more. This would be incredible in any situation, but we are talking about poor people who don’t know where the next rice bowl is coming from. It is truly something our western minds have a hard time wrapping around. Mark told me that when he leaves on trips to the uttermost parts, people will say, “Go and see how the other half lives”. It is really how the other 90 percent of the world lives; we just don’t have a clue. So this Sunday morning was a trip to reality, not just in the drive nor in the things that tend to shock us such as no bathrooms, no running water and the like. But in the “REAL” reality of joy unspeakable regardless of circumstance, love that knows no measure and pureness of heart. That reality for the most part unfortunately has left the building in the country where I reside. So glad there are still many places in the world that I can get reacquainted with the simple foundation that sustains life.

At the close of the service, every adult and child shook each of our hands like they were shaking three of the most important persons ever. Yet actually the reverse was true. I hoped that the abundance of everything I witnessed stowed and flowing out of their small statured frames would seep through their fingertips on to mine, strengthening me. I actually believe it did.

Like I said, FOREVER CHANGED AFTER TODAY.

Fermented Tea Leaf Salad, please

Urban House Church

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Unearthing the Savored Life