Yangon Redux

Left Bagan on the night bus, safely getting out of town without paying for the temples. The autocracy is also a beaurocracy it would seem- although my hotels and buses and entrance tickets all required passport numbers, visa numbers, addresses etc, no one seemed to cross check my Bagan entrance ticket that I'd been given by another tourist, something I'd been sweating about for the past few days. Well, I can just say I'm relieved to have no more night buses for a while. Nothing much to report about that, except that once again the sweet chanting of the diamond sutra with synthesizer music and accompanied by bizarre animated videos and maps of Buddhism around Asia eventually turned into the inevitable terrible blaring Burmese soaps. A late stop at a truck stop with nothing but women frying chicken and potato chips while The Lion King played on an old TV (not the first time I'd seen it- apparently the people see it as an allegory for the current situation and the Aung San family, etc.)

Arrived early and not so bright to the guesthouse and crashed for a few more hours before heading out for the day. Lunch at a local spot, chatting with the waiter about politics and sports and travel, he was eager to hear if I'd e to the new capital of Nay Pyi Taw, built a few years ago from scratch and basically an empty gleaming new city built for billions of dollars. " yes, Than Shwe lives there," he said "lights are on 24 hours not like here, air-con 24 hours for Than Shwe, no blackouts, no generators, but no one lives there." Air-con also for the penguin exhibit at the national zoo there, that no one is allowed to go to. It's apparently a very strange and surreal place.

From lunch out to the market for some shopping, wandering down the broken wet streets in flip-flops and once slipping about an inch from an open sewer. Got within a few blocks of the market when the downpour began, so running through the ancient streets getting soaked and dodging ancient cars. The government basically banned car imports and taxed them so they cost over 200000 dollars (yes, dollars) which means a fleet of ancient Pre-89 Toyota Corollas wheezing around prowling the city. Unlike every other city in Southeast Asia, no motorbikes since the 2007 protests. They also have steering wheels on the right because the country USED to drive on the left until the random day in the 90s when the generals switched it all around without warning. Of course, you can always tell a rich person or government person (same same, really) by their newish SUVs. And I saw plenty of motorcades of big shots everywhere flying the new flag and toting around some minister of something, while all the other cars stopped.
Anyway, did some shopping at the market and still a few hours before sunset when I wanted to see Shwedagon again, but too far from the guesthouse and pouring rain, so ended up seeing X-Men at the movie theater once I got though all the metal detectors.

After some previews and propaganda, an announcement on screen had something about everyone honoring the country, and the national anthem blared over a clip of the new flag waving. I didn't know what to do, but couldn't help no one stood up, put a hand on their heart or anything. Movie was decent and totally forgot I was in Burma until the shock of the strange theater and a floor now completely carpeted in sesame and peanut shells. On to the Shwedagon, which really was incredible by sunset and night, different colors and different quoted peaceful vibe with the candles and a few birds.

Back to my hotel for dinner, with nothing much else but sleeping to do. Read the English language newspaper- which included on the front page a piece about the local cabbage harvest, an article about Martyr's DAy without mentioning Aung San Su Kyi, and a puff piece about "China Celebrates 60 Years of the Peaceful Liberation of Tibet." That about sums up the cooutry and many of its issues right there! And now on to ChiangMai.

Oh, one last thing, the stressful-as-hell money thing here.
Once upon a time the junta's astrologers (are we sensing a theme here?) told the to only print money divisible by nine! Thankfully those days are over but money is a major pain in the ass. The only good money to bring is US cash, (although at a few places that take euros, I smugly enjoy the fact that they enjoy the same exchange rate as the dollar). There are no ATMs an certainly no credit cards due to sanctions. And the bills to exchange have to be PERFECT, and I mean perfect! "crispy" they insist, and I hand over a twenty to by guesthouse. 'Notha one please." hand over a crsipier one. "notha one please.." and so on, until finally they decide to give me less for various bills than others. "This one I give you 7600, these ones 7300." a hundred dollar bill also gets a better rate than a fifty which is better than a twenty and so on. Furthermore, certain serial numbers are considered unlucky and are unchangeable as well, and to top it off, in exchange for exquisitely crispy bills, I get kyat that are shredded with holes big enough to look through and with a surface area 99% covered in scotch tape. Oh yeah, and the 1000kyat note is the largest in circulation and worth slightly more than a dollar, which means changing 100$ I can't even close my wallet. (see photos)