My 1st day in Yangon, Myanmar

Anecdote:

I land in Yangon, Myanmar (a country closed still again at USState Dept’s Level 4: Do Not Travel advisory) late at night, getting off the plane I am immediately slammed by Yangon’s hot muggy polluted air seen thru the cast of yellow street lights, hostel check-in quickly and go to sleep in my rarely booked single room. I booked the single to avoid disturbing others on my late night arrival.The hostel is nicely adequate & welcoming, but it ain’t a Tokyo hostel, .… but why would it be?

Next morning’s late 7:30 am start, I’ve switched into my cargo shorts, breathable T-shirt, & my sweat stained old guy’s Tilley hat with my modified cape to begin my short self-guided walking tour around the surrounding neighborhood in search of convenience stores, cafes and hopefully some street food vendors that staff has recommended.

Finishing my morning street food, I wander back to my hostel to get my video camera, strap it over my head and under one arm AND then,  ‘hidden’ by a somewhat tattered dress shirt partially rolled up so it hangs sloppily down over my videocamera when wrapped around my waist.     It worked for 19 years.

On my 1st walkabout, I walk to the main drag, Shwe Bon Thar Street (aka Mongol St.), with its shops & kiosks flowing out of store fronts, across the sidewalks & onto the street. I weave between early local shoppers, dodge scurrying workers, & skirt the open sewer manholes whose covers have been stolen for resale. Everybody's trying to make a buck.

Street food stalls are smoking busily at the curbs, but still hungry, I opt for some simple bread rolls and gnaw while walking. That’s all I need right now. That, and a small bottle of ‘safe ‘water jammed in my pocket after I checked to make sure it wasn’t a re-used bottle of tap water dishonestly disguised as new with a drop of superglue to make the cap ‘snap’ when unscrewed like a new bottle would.

My Shwe Bon Thar Street stroll is my 1^st opportunity to try my version of their language’s “Hello”, Thank You” and “Goodbye.” I always try to learn those 3 phrases before I enter a country.

Anecdote: “Hello”, Thank You” and “Goodbye”: IMO trying to learn a foreign language to travel a country for a few months is chimerical (I.e. futile) unless you just love THAT foreign language. OTOH, I always TRIED to learn how to say these 3 word/phrases — “Hello”, Thank You” and “Goodbye.—” before I left the US.

Arriving in my hostel, I immediately tried my words out on hostel staff to get over my embarrassment at butchering their language as soon as as I can.  I learned that trying these words for the first time with a big smile usually caused staff & shop keepers to happily try to help me learn to say it correctly, which they did and ….  I did.    It was important.

Later so many times I would walk into a shop and say “Hello”  so ‘correctly & naturally’ that they would think I spoke their language and start rapidly talking to me in their language. I would then chuckle, hold up my finger 3 fingers and recite my 3 phrases and we’d all started laughing, but boy did that ever break the ice.

Anecdote: Lijiang, China: walking up a steep mountain road to a relatively remote, small village, Lijiang, carved out of the mountain’s rock an elderly Chinese woman was walking down the opposite side of the dirt road as I was going up.

She carefully avoided looking at me until, …  when almost opposite me., … I looked over and said. “Nǐ hǎo!”, which is ‘hello’ in Chinese. (say, ‘knee how’)

She came absolutely unglued , exuberantly yelling, back  “Nǐ hǎo!”,“Nǐ hǎo!”. She was so happy that this pink-Unicorn foreigner knew her language and was friendly. A most heartwarming experience for me; maybe both of us.

Cultural Note: ‘Yangguizi’ is a derogatory Chinese term meaning "foreign devil” applied to all Westerners.  Probably stemming from the early British infliction of opium on Chinese people precipitating its 2 Opium Wars. In China I never heard the term and wouldn’t recognize it, if I did. Chinese people were always respectful to me.

Navigating Shwe Bon Thar Street further I deep breath in the curious smells of Yangon’s mix of street food, local industry, its toxic mining waste-polluted river & constantly exhausted diesel smoke. Within days I begin wearing my 3M95 face mask all day, replacing it every few weeks when it starts getting dark with pollution. Alien for sure, but I suck it in knowing it is my life for the next 3 months.

Later I’ll complain to myself about the intense heat, but then quickly chastise myself,

“ You knew it was going to be hot. Everybody here copes with it,

so quit bitching and accept it.”  I never anguished over it again.

I don’t want a jabbering guide to interrupt my immersive experience & chats with locals as I buy soda water in a deli, test food at a street vendor’s stall, or bargain with a vendor for tomatoes at an open market stall. I want to immerse myself into the culture quickly, … at its core.

The rest of my day I wander thru the central historic sites, nicely maintained central park, and then I wandered down the area’s surrounding craft & trade streets until I purposely migrate to quieter boulevards, circling eventually down to the river and back to my hostel to nap.

After nap & shower I hit Shwe Bon Thar Street tonight to experience its frantic , super jammed night scene, eat the safe Burmese chicken skewers (chicken on a thin stick) hot off the flame, and avoid the leg breaking open sewer portals even more dangerously hidden in the crowded darkness.

I seldom think of my Jackson Hole life because it is no longer relevant.

A Hypothetical Contrast with a tourist’s bus or van tour -

If I had come to Yangon on a tour, I would sleep in a ‘nice’ tourist hotel owned & funding Myanmar’s rapacious dictatorship, eat Americanized 'authentic' Myanmar foods in a for-tourist, faux-authentic restaurant also owned by the military junta.

We would then drive slowly down Shwe Bon Thar Street (aka Mongol St.), encapsulated safely in our tourist van safely insulated from the touches, smells and street noise surrounding us.

We eventually arrive at souvenir factory where we can quickly - on schedule - shop for souvenirs dramatically over-priced versus the Shwe Bon Thar Street we drove thru because the government, tour company and maybe even your guide gets a kick-back from the factory for every thing you buy.

Your tour may give you an afternoon or evening ‘free time’ segment when, if you have the courage & curiosity, you can take a tourist taxi from your hostel probably from a considerable distance from Shwe Bon Thar Street to wander on your own. Doubtful, but possible.

Actually I can’t remember any sizable tour groups in Yangon, even at the major sites. Much more rural, small and quiet Bagan with its 1200 still-existing temples etc had considerable big bus tourism

The End