The road to Mandalay, in Mandalay and around Mandalay

Here we are sitting in the Mandalay International airport ( which doesn't actually have international flights yet!) at 7am. We have had an exhausting amazing and inspirational couple of days seeing EVERYTHING of interest and now we are off to Heho in the mountains.

I hardly know where to begin but here's the summary of activities: I had to confer with all of the others as to the order – we accomplished a great deal in a mere two days!

We:

• Wore out our credit cards in the handicrafts shop which was full of old marionette puppets , buddhas of every shape and size, sequinned velvet pieces, gongs, pots ........ I emerged triumphant with a set of wooden monks ( the only problem is how to fit them into the case!)
• 

  Wandered around the Golden Palace Temple which was made of teak and had been relocated a couple of times when the capital changed. Beautiful wood carvings and enormous pillars. It was the accommodation for the last King and very grand but is now part of a monastery.  

There were 729 of these temples: far too many for one photo!

We were stunned by a visit to the 'biggest book in the world' which consists of 729 identical white temples in rows each containing one marble tablet of the buddha's teachings. Bigger than the biggest banana, the biggest pineapple etc etc! The king wanted to get married and thought that would be an impressive feat so he made an enlightment of monks create these tablets ( no-one can remember how many monks it took so an 'enlightenment' is our new collective noun for lots of monks). The interesting thing was that his brother, the Prince, decided he would build a smaller version but with more temples - as only a jealous brother would! So they were constructed next door. 

• Ate at Ko's Restaurant: exquisite Thai food - as usual much too much, even for so many of us. I think the locals have the idea that we eat enormous amounts of food, which is probably true in comparison to them, but the minute a dish is finished they replace it!

• 

  Admired the skills of the workers at the gold leaf factory: many of the pagodas we visited sell tiny packets of gold leaf as offerings  and in some you can place your gold leaf on a buddha for good luck. In this factory the tiny gold ingots that weigh 16 grams are transformed into 2300 tiny 2 inch squares. The process involves a lot of strenuous beating with huge mallets to spread it out, none of which can be done by machine. The ladies were responsible for creating the 0.003 thick gold sheets into squares. Remarkable skills!

• Watched girls weave superb silk lonyis on huge looms using the finest silk : a real test of patience and skill. then we descended on the shop and there were scarves, longyis, shirts and tops being bought at amazing speed.

• Traversed the U Ping bridge: the longest teak bridge in Burma - 1.2 kms. This rather dilapidated bridge features on many of the photos of Myanmar. It was too much of a challenge for some as there are huge gaps between planks and doesn't have any handrails for most of it.

 We walked carefully to the second rest house/shelter and were served cocktilas and snacks. Then it started to rain! Whilst not a monsoonal downpour, it was a test for the umbrellas as it was also windy. Alison and I decided to risk life and limb and go out a bit further. It's amazing that when you meet some poor fisherman sitting in the rain anywhere in the world and determined to catch a fish you don't need to have the language to ask how it's going : charades will do. One girl proudly dipslayed her catch : a 3 inch fish. We all giggled and she said "Small!" to which we all nodded and laughed.

We managed to make our way back to the bus despite a section of the bridge not having any remaining footings and dipping down as we walked on it! 

• Ate at Red Canal restaurant and hotel: superb indian food and a very quirky hotel : well worth a visit.

Day Two:
 

Visited Sagaing in the mountains by crossing the Ayerwaddy River over the new U Bien bridge. A very impressive structure but under no circumstances are you allowed to stop on the bridge and take photos, and for many years you were not allowed to take photos of the bridge itself in case you werwe anti-governement and considering terrorist activities.

Here we are, squashed into the back of the truck, with the others following behind

As we are trying to use all forms of available transport, we had our first ride in a passenger truck to get to the Zygay 14th century monastery at the top of the mountain. 
They are rough modified utes with a tarpaulin roof, bench seat along the sides at the back, and then you hang on to anything you can find to prevent being bounced out. The truck driver had to stop and put extra air in the tyres once we got on and he realised he would need it to carry the WWWs (white whale women, as we have now called ourselves) up the mountain.

 

 

There was much use of low gears and a lot of positive thinking needed to get to the top. The road was narrow and the truck narrowly missed local pedestrians, monks and peddlers a few times.






From the monastery the mountain top views of the river and the pastel coloured tiles and glasswork were lovely. Again, some very graphic modern paintings of the precepts of Buddhism needed no explanation, - especially the one forbidding sexual misconduct.




In many of the places we have been these pottery water vessels are
available for anyone to drink: we didn't of course.
 Many of them were covered in moss from the constant moisture.

The toilet cost 200 Kyats (20 cents) and was fine. After I washed my hands at an outside basin the woman gave me some paper towel to dry my hands, and when I couldn't find a rubbish bin anywhere she instructed me to throw it down the hill with lots of other decomposing paper towel. Very odd!

We tentatively climbed aboard the trucks again and headed down the hill (at breakneck speed in some spots which required a lot of hanging on tight to the rails!), arriving safely but a bit rattled at the Sakyadhita Thilashin Nunnery School.

As in many asian countries it provides a path to education which many cannot afford, so most enter as children and then decide whether they will stay and be ordained when they get older.

There are 300,000 female monks in Burma and about 800,000 male monks.

We had donated money to pay for a meal for all 150 nuns...and us! The nuns wear pale pink and bright orange with a brown shawl. Firstly we met with the Head nun who was very serene : she is the leader of this nunnery, which has 150 nuns, and another one in Yangon which has 50 nuns. She said the key to leadership and achievement of your goals is unity, and to create unity you have to have forgiveness and understanding of others.
 

We then went to watch the nuns, from 9 year old students to their teachers, take some food to be blessed in the temple. They chanted beautifully as we wandered past their huge bamboo Buddha covered in gold (and kept in an airconditioned room!). The nuns were rather intrigued with us and there were lots of smiles and attempts to talk. With their bald heads and flowing pale pink gowns they all looked very young and serene.

 

Then the highlight of the day was serving them as they silently filed past: a scoop of rice from huge bowls into their small metal bowls, and  a cupful of sweetened iced tea into their metal cups. They queued up quietly and neatly put their identical sandals in rows, before silently accepting the rice and moving into the dining room. On their tables were meat and vegetable dishes. They sat on the floor at low tables and sang a prayer which included their welcome and thanks to us and wishing us loving kindness.

 

Then they silently ate as we also elegantly (not!) sat at the low tables that had been set for us: they appeared to be laden with far more food than they had on theirs, and as soon as we finished a dish another one of the same dish replaced it.

I thought I had it sussed when Anne finished her delicious green weed soup and another bowl appeared immediately. So I didn't finish mine completely, thinking there wouldn't be a replacement: but to no avail a second one appeared. The only consolation was that anything we didn't eat would be eaten by others there, so leaving plates of delicious food including pork, beef, chicken, vegies (and fruit and lemon cake for dessert!) was OK.

 

From 12.00 till 1.00pm the nuns have free time for extra study, washing, meditating and chatting. We wandered around and had a look at the basic school rooms with wooden benches and the younger girls dormitory bedrooms. Each bed had a chest at the end which contained the girls personal effects and a bookshelf containing piles of religious texts. Each week for an hour they were allowed to read reference books to broaden their understanding of the world. We met the youngest nun – a nine year old girl from the Shan state. Her friend explained that she had come to the Nunnery to learn to speak Burmese fluently as she only spoke Shan. She said she was happy to be there.

 

We did another quick whip-around and gave the money to the head nun who said we were on the path to Nirvana.

A shorter truck trip brought us to the riverbank and yet another form of transport to add to our list! We climbed aboard a large wooden barge for the two hour trip down the river to Mingon. The breeze was much appreciated as we had lost the cool of the mountains, and the humidity was high. The chairs were very comfortable laid back cane chairs in which I, and quite a large number of my fellow travellers, slept off the intense heat.

It was fascinating moving slowly along close to the riverbank and seeing the locals living their lives: doing their washing in the river, dunking their children in for a wash, and of course the inevitable group of young boys doing 'bombs' - showing off to the the weird white foreigners! 

 

We kept an eye out for the Ayerwaddy River dolphins but to no avail. As it is the end of the Monsoon season the river was high and the current was strong, so it took us more than 2 hours to reach Mingon.

 

The first building we came across on the riverbank was a huge block of bricks which was actually the square stand of an unfinished temple that had been hit by an earthquake and never repaired.Then we:

• Walked along the river bank and were accosted by peddlers selling jade, Tshirts, pyjamas and fans, one of which I bought as it was extremely hot and we were all desperate for anything that would help us combat the heat and humidity. It lasted all of five minutes before it started to fall to bits!

• Climbed the stairs of a white-washed temple Hsinbyume Paya with huge white 'waves' in the design, a resident goat at the top of the stairs, and great views of the river.
 
• Bashed the Mingon bell which is the 3^rd largest bell in world but the largest bell in the world that actually rings (the other two have cracks). The sound was enormous and very mellow. It weighs 90 tons and was actually cast in the riverbank sand when the river was low and then, when the waters rose, it was floated to its current position: not surprisingly it was positioned very close to the riverbank.

• 

  Visited the local Poor Aged home run single-handedly by a very enthusiastic nurse who had lived there for 25 years with assistance from an occasional doctor. But, good news! - her son is close to finishing his medical degree ( the only person from Mingon to ever do so) – and is going to help her.

The most challenging part of the boat trip was disembarking when we returned: we had to climb through three other boats and finally walk across these planks with the handrail being supported by a half-submerged boatman!
Good news: nobody fell in, but we did feel very sorry for the boatman!

Melted in the withering heat and staggered aboard the boat looking red, frazzled and dripping with perspiration : probably the hottest we have been so far. The chilled water, slices of watermelon and the salt of the peanuts ( Yay!) revived us and we enjoyed the breeze as we crossed the river back to the Mandalay side and returned to the Hotel.

Wallowed in the pool for hours, enjoyed some poolside snacks and packed our bags for another early flight and a 5am wake-up call.

Your hot and happy correspondent

Dianne