Unlike the rather homogeneous Thailand and rest of Southeast Asia, many different ethnicities call Myanmar home, for it acts as a crossroads between India and the rest of east Asia. Skin colors ranging from the darkest hues to the lightest give variety to Myanmar, especially in Yangon, with many residents having Indian, Bangladeshi, and Chinese heritages.
Also unlike Thailand, which is developed quite extensively, Myanmar is just beginning to open up its doors to globalization and the development that comes with it. As a consequence, Myanmar seems to have maintained a large part of its culture; something that in Thailand has seemed to diminish. Some of this culture is seen worn on almost every citizen: longyis, long cloths worn by men instead of pants and thanakha, a cream colored powder scraped from tree bark worn as a dual sunscreen and makeup.
Originally when I was planning this trip in October and November, Myanmar was not on my list of countries I hoped to visit. It was not until my Dad mentioned to a close Burmese friend, Sian, that I planned to travel to Southeast Asia, that Myanmar crossed my mind. Telling me that I could visit his six sisters and parents who lived together in Yangon, I quickly applied for a visa online and added Myanmar to my agenda. Before I jetted from the western hemisphere for Bangkok, I packed along with my belongings some things for Sian's family, including two unopened iPhone 5's.
After two months of lugging this rather heavy cargo through Thailand, I finally was able to meet the family in which these phones would end up with. Exiting the airport, I was warmly welcomed by two of the sisters, Lun and Kim. They quickly bargained for a taxi and we were off into the pulsing heart of Yangon, China Town. We quickly entered a swarming city with people everywhere, the strong mixture of aromas of nearby food stalls, and the hectic sounds of honking cars as they weaved inches by pedestrians. Before showing me to my hostel, we sat down for my first Burmese meal, which was delicious ("Sa-luh-kawn-deh" in Burmese) and consisted of fish, prawn salad, fried vegetables, and of course, mounds of white rice.
The next day, I went to their home to meet the other four sisters and parents. Out of the eight family members, three spoke enough English to carry a decent conversation, so as expected there were many bouts of silence that only the chanting from the local Buddhist temple and shouts of the street vendors could fill. While these silences were the farthest from awkward, we did Skype back home with my parents and their brother/son Sian, which was an excellent way to translate and break the ice.
After socializing or at least attempting to, they generously gave me a longyi to wear before we went to lunch at a Burmese restaurant. Being that Myanmar is rather new as a country to travel to, seeing a westerner on the streets results in lots of staring, double takes, and the occasional “hello, how are you?” from the local people. So when seeing a westerner wearing a longyi and accompanied by seven Burmese women, the heads really start to turn. Being a rather unique experience for a white male coming from the United States, I have come to enjoy the attention.
The next day, again accompanied by two of the sisters, we drove, rather weaved in and out of traffic with no foreseeable rules of the road, for three hours to the Golden Rock, another sacred Buddhist sight set in the mountains east of Yangon. The rock, completely covered in gold (“Shwe” in Burmese), sits precariously on the edge of a ledge atop a long chain of mountains.
This was the last day before I intended to leave for Inle Lake north of Yangon. While my trip with this family was rather short, I left feeling the utmost thankful and indebted to this family for their immense generosity and kindness.
Finally able to upload some videos now:
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