Yangon

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” Mark Twain

As I reminisce of Myanmar I reflect on tall looming palm trees, bamboo groves, and the heavy scent of incense and jasmine. A soft spoken gentle people, beautiful Burmese women with thanaka (tree bark) painted faces, both men and women wearing colorful longyis (skirt) and sandals. Monks in saffron colored robes with shaven heads roaming the streets, carrying alms bowls for the morning offerings. Sidewalk tea shops with mini tables and chairs where the locals gather to chat and catch up on the latest gossip. Colonial and contemporary architecture, high rises and golden domed of pagodas punctuate the landscape. A diverse cuisine to choose from, Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, you name, it’s in Yangon. On the streets, rickety vintage buses, tri-shaws (pedaled three-wheeled taxis), bicycles, pedestrians and foreign used cars all comfortably co-exist. The currency exchange is 1 dollar to 1,334 kyats, the smallest bill being 1,000 kyats - no coins. Myanmar would have to be the most unusual place I ever visited. Now I know why my niece loves this country so much!

Katrina’s driver, our tour guide, he is so sweet


My special niece Katrina in her classroom


Tri-shaw and monk

Visiting the Buddhists orphanage

The village school