Time limits in Burma demanded difficult decision-making: where to go, where not to go. I highly dislike this process because I prefer to go see it all. But, I figured of all the potential decisions to be stuck with in the world, this wasn't so bad. With that, Mandalay, just another city, lost the deal and the next destination was Bagan, the city of Temples. Coco told us that getting there straight from the Golden Rock was challenging, with no direct route. It seemed simply passing through Mandalay, with a bus transfer in Bago City, was the best option to Bagan as Coco assured us it was a mere 16km away from Mandalay, a quickie ride. It was all working out and so we booked tickets without checking maps or guide books, but on the sole trust of Coco.
The bus heading to Bago City left on time (this was getting weird) and thus far, Burma had proven itself to be pretty chill: not a lot of people, absolutely nobody hounding you to buy anything or trying to swindle. It's easy to get into that laid back mode, and I learned in Bago, just as easy to get out. When I got off the bus, still half asleep from my unfinished nap, people were moving very quickly and frantically. I honestly thought something was wrong because they were moving as though reacting to an emergency.
This put me right back into "guard up" mode, as men were grabbing our bags, throwing them on tuk-tuks, telling us to get on the back of the motorbike, all at very high volumes and very quick movements, never telling us where we were going or why we needed to move. As any good traveler would have done, we firmly "said" back in high volumes: give us our bags, don't touch my stuff, where are we going??, why?? and there's no way in hell we are leaving our packs in a tuk-tuk that we aren't on. Finally, some guy says, "I'm Mr. So and So, friends with Coco, it's OK, we are here to bring you to the next bus station". Having already put my trust in Coco, I felt better hearing his name alongside some explanations. Marj got on the tuk-tuk anyway to safe-guard our bags while Paul and I hopped on motorbikes.
At the restaurant/bus station, we had a chance to actually talk to the men man-handling us and our stuff and learned they were nice, genuinely helpful guys. With a few hours to spare, they directed us to one of the most crowded and busiest markets I've ever been to, which confirmed that Bago City was drastically different from anywhere else in Burma, including Yangon. It had its own culture of hustle and bustle with a lot of people, vehicles, traffic, food, noises, honks, and all that jazz. That description sounds like any other city, I know, but this couldn't be any more different; the smells, the people and the feeling of it was different...I can't really explain it.
After I got myself some deep fried deliciousness at the market (most dishes in Burma revolve around oil and a deep fried food stand lives on every corner, like Starbucks in the Western world) we made our way back to the restaurant/bus station for pre-night bus dinner and beers. It was here we realized Bagan is, in fact, NOT 16km from Mandalay as our trusted friend Coco told us. Get ready for this smack in the face......Bagan is 400 km from Mandalay! With the new-found realization of an 10 hour bus to Bagan instead of a "quickie ride", we became angry with ourselves for not checking first. Yet, we also knew it'd all work itself out.
The bus was late, only because it was pouring, and while waiting the strangest thing happened. One of the helpful men from earlier in the day, came up to me to tell me why the bus was late (the rain, clearly) to ensure nobody would be upset. We had the "wait for the bus" thing down pat by now, basically just eat, drink a few beers and all is good in the world, so we weren't bothered much. I found it all sweetly strange to get an unprovoked explanation for tardiness in SE Asia....Burma was surprising me on the regs! When the bus arrived 1 hour later, we discovered we had scored a delightfully comfortable overnight bus. Blankets, head pillows, squishy chairs AND the perfect temperature caused me to sleep like a rock.
Which is possibly why we missed our stop the next morning in Mandalay. Suddenly, we arrived to an old colonial town called Pyin Oo Lwin (POL), about 1.5 hours north of Mandalay. In any Western country, the bus driver would have told us "too bad, you should've woken up", but here, the bus driver paid for a taxi ride to get us back to Mandalay. We felt bad about this and I think would've even stayed in the cute town of POL if we had more time, but time was something we didn't have much of. We needed to get to Mandalay in order to catch a bus to Bagan, which was all still unknown.
Finally in the Mandalay bus station (after about 19 hours of traveling), we bought tickets for an overnight bus to Bagan, that same night. With this plan, we had the day in Mandalay and decided to go explore and eat. After haggling a ride into town and arriving to a particular vegetarian restaurant we were curious about, we learned the place was closed for a month...figures! Good news is we got a picture of the cool sign at the closed restaurant: "Be kind to animals by not killing them" (it was as though I had died and gone to heaven, floating on clouds with people just like me), and met 2 super nice people who directed us to a tea house to "eat with the Burmese". Best advice of the day.
The teahouse was bumpin and we were served by 5 young boys (about 12 years old) who literally stared at us for hours, since we ended up being there for hours. We ate some delish foods, my fave being the Burmese pastry salad, and hung out with some amazing people. The best part of my day was meeting DeBhin, an 87 year old Burmese man who approached our table, and once confirmed Marj and I were American, asked to join us. It turned out that DeBhin studied in America (Hawaii) for 2 years on a scholarship, and taught English in Burma since his return, decades ago. Every Burmese person we met loved America (they'd all cheer "Obama" because he visited a year ago and made the Burmese proud!), but DeBhin loved America more than anybody. He traveled a bit during his time in the states (late 40's/early 50's) and adored it. He shared that there were 2 places in the south who wouldn't let him inside because he was brown, but that experience didn't taint his overall view of the country or the people. He said he was forever grateful to America for the educational opportunity, the scholarship and for all of the wonderful and helpful people he met there. Yet another impressive and lovely human being.
**DeBhin also confirmed that school is only covered by the government until the 3rd grade, about 8/9 years old. Since it's the families responsibility to pay for school, many kids don't (and aren't required to) continue. Hence why every teahouse was staffed by young boys, not attending school.
An hour and a half and some donuts later, DeBhin floated out of our lives and the next cool person made their way in. A young boy of 6 years old, encouraged by his mom, approached Marj to practice his English. We ended up hanging with his mom and uncle (who had to go back to work, but never did. I guess Burma has that in common with the rest of SE Asia!) for an hour and then decided to take us on an outing. In Thailand, PCVs called this Thai-napping, because it's like being kidnapped: never knowing where you were going, what you were doing, or mainly, how long it'd take. So, we were being Burmese-napped but I was stoked about it! Mainly because I was a tourist and wanted to hang with the locals as much as possible.
With not much to Mandalay, we had decided to climb the 760 feet up Mandalay Hill to scope out a view of the flat city and some statues. There's a large standing Buddha pointing an outstretched arm towards the royal palace. Here, I provide you another Buddha legend. His outstretched arm is meant to indicate the locale of Burma's future capital (btw, the country has moved capitals umpteen times); apparently Buddha hiked this hill long ago and said in the 2400th year of his faith, a great city would be found below the hill. According to Lonely Planet, that would've been in 1857 when the King at that time, did in fact order the capitals move to Mandalay....coincidence? Who knows.
On our way to Mandalay Hill, we enjoyed seeing kids getting picked up from school, traffic, food and life on the streets of Mandalay. As much as I enjoyed our teahouse, after 4 hours it was nice to walk around, stretch my legs and see some life! The young 6 year old son of the woman Burmese-napping us had to go to his afternoon schooling, but he walked with us a bit; while walking, he grabbed my hand and held it until we parted ways. It was quite sweet.
We climbed up Mandalay Hill and enjoyed the view with our new friend. Marj enjoyed a tarot card reading and later we got dinner and beers to prepare for the next night bus to Bagan. It was an unexpected wonderful day in Mandalay. I believe all of the mix-ups with buses was fate, to give us time there and the opportunity to meet the special people we did.
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