The Golden Rock and Mawlamyine

Hi Guys,

We're really getting down to the wire, only a couple more blogs for Myanmar, one in Tokyo and that's the end of the SE Asia adventure! It's about time I get these posted, as it's now been over a year since we were in the places I'm now blogging about. We must really be better on our next adventure......

Ok, so this blog covers the Golden Rock on Mt. Kyaiktiyo, the second most sacred place to Buddhism in Myanmar, and Mawlamyine, a city south of there another couple hours. We had bussed from Inle Lake to Yangon, spent a night, and continued on to Kyaiktyo, the town where you can access the Golden Rock from. 

This picture shows us crowded into an open-air pickup truck. It's hard to explain, but they had taken an oversize truck and placed a bunch of benches (each made from a single 2 X 4) into the box, then crammed 45 people in the back! Definitely not something you undertake if you are at all claustrophobic. Then they hauled you up the mountain at breakneck speeds, did I mention there were no seat belts? In retrospect, I realize now this was less than safe. Oh, and then it starts really raining! Jared and I had rain gear, but this rain was something biblical. We were soaked through by the time we got off the truck. Then as we were walking up the walkway to the Golden Rock we found ourselves wading through knee-deep rain in some places! You don't mess around, monsoon, I'll give you that. 

As you can see from this picture, Golden Rock seems to defy gravity. It has withstood several earthquakes perched upon the rock below it. Legend states that it is held in place by a single strand of the Buddha's hair. 

We are not very dry in these pictures!! It unfortunately wrecked our view back down the mountain, but what we lost in that regard we gained in another. Despite the rain, construction to other areas of the site were going on at full speed. It was insane because the marble was so slippery in the wet, and yet people were still going for it- carrying heavy loads of bricks, sand, concrete, etc on their backs, secured to them with a strap across their foreheads. 

We made it back down the mountain, dried off (kind of) and boarded a bus for Mawlamyine. 

We got into Mawlamyine later in the afternoon, so we just walked around a bit, then decided to hit up some more sights the next morning. 

Streets of Mawlamyine, with a few female Buddhist monks walking along. You can tell them apart easily because they wear pink robes. 

Mawlamyine was probably one of the more 'out-there' places we went to in Myanmar. It was like Medan in Indonesia that way. Tourists don't really come here, so it was a great eye-opener to regular life for most residents of the country. This yard was particularly junky looking, so I'm not trying to make it look like everyone's house is like this. However, there was definitely less effort to make things look fake down here, and I appreciated the realness. 

Here we are climbing the stairs to Kyaikthanlan Paya, the place believed by most to have inspired the 'Moulmein Pagoda' in Rudyard Kipling's poem 'Mandalay.' (Notice how Moulmein kind of = Mawlamyine?) It is the city's tallest and most visible stupa, set on top of a hill. 

I think now is a good time to put in the poem "Mandalay" by Rudyard Kipling: 

Side note: As you will remember, we were in Mandalay a few blogs ago, and now we are in Mawlamyine, where the pagoda of this poem sits. Rudyard Kipling never actually made it as far north as Mandalay, perhaps he was just referring to the northern, more unexplored parts of Burma.

Kipling wrote this poem in 1890 at the age of 24, after seven years of service with the British Army in India. He stopped in Mawlamyine for just 3 days on his way back home. The way I interpret it is that he stopped over here for a couple nights, and became totally intoxicated with this exotic land, not to mention the Burmese girls! He compares this vivacious, lush green land back to the drudgery of 'English drizzle' and the 'house-wives with beefy faces and grubby hands.' Burn. Ironically, some things have changed, and you could now just as easily write a poem lamenting the garbage all over Mawlamyine, and how you long for first-world sanitation. However, there is still so much magic here, and this poem (though over 100 years old) does a better job of illustrating that than I ever could. Compound that with the fact that Myanmar is on the cusp of some great changes, and slowly but surely it will start resembling the rest of the world more and more, and Kipling's 'Mandalay' less and less. 

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
        Come you back to Mandalay,
        Where the old Flotilla lay:
        Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat — jes' the same as Thebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
        Bloomin' idol made o' mud —
        Wot they call the Great Gawd Budd —
        Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
        Elephints a-pilin' teak
        In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
        Where the silense 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

But that's all shove be'ind me — long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no 'buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
        No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
        But them spicy garlic smells,
        An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?
        Beefy face an' grubby 'and —
        Law! wot do they understand?
        I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be —
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
        On the road to Mandalay,
        Where the old Flotilla lay,
        With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
        O the road to Mandalay,
        Where the flyin'-fishes play,
        An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay







We even came across some monks that asked us for a picture with them. It was such a shock after 5 months of stealthily taking pictures of the backs of monks!

Great views, except we weren't looking out at China 'crost the Bay

That afternoon we went out to Shampoo Island, such named because there is a spring on this island that was used during the Ava period to supply the water for the royal hair-washing ceremony. The bridge you see to the left is also the longest in Myanmar. 

These are shots taken from the train ride back to Yangon. There were stupas studding the hills everywhere, it is really amazing how many are here. 

The rainy season is upon us! It really illustrates how important it is to build your houses on stilts. 

But with the rain, comes the time to start planting rice. 

What century are we in? 

The train ride was actually one of those crazy travel experiences you look back on ruefully. It wasn't even a 300 km distance, but it took us 10 hours by train! The tracks are very poorly maintained here, so the train has to go very slowly to prevent it derailing. There were points when the car was bucking so hard you had to stand up out of your seat or you might get thrown out! We also had some real characters come on the bus, one guy came on shouting out a prayer (in Burmese), saying it to no one in particular. When the train started moving five minutes later, he jumped off and left us to contemplate his message. There was so much food (at least we think it was food) being sold from baskets on top of people's heads as they walked up and down the cars when the train was stopped. We bought some corn on the cob- at least we knew what that was! We came into Yangon in the fading light, man was I grateful to get off that train. It was pretty bizarre to see the shanty towns of people squatting on the tracks. What a place to live! It's a little different from Europe. You so much as walk across the tracks instead of take the long way around on the pathway and you get scolded by the police. It made me sad to see how people live here. It makes me even sadder to think people that live in half-million dollar homes have less overall happiness than people that squat in rail yards because they have no home!!

 Until Next Time!