Burmese Days

Was flipping through best squares in the world (or some pictorial book like that), and saw the Shwe Dagon Paya. The familiar nagas staring back at me, the pongyis (traditional Burmese monks) walking around in saffron robes, the golden dome itself basking in the moonlight brough back memories of my days in Burma last year, it was as if all of an instance in that Popular bookshop i experienced Rangoon all over again, but for a fleeting moment.

The heat, the stultifying midday sun that soon gave way to a cool,breezy evening, the teashops, the Burmese people in longyi (sarongs) and thanaka (cosmetic made from grinding a certain tree bark), the masses of people, laughing, with brooms sweeping the floors of the Paya in the fading light, clockwise, in a ritual to sweep away the bad luck. The flood of memories soon interrupted by another browser at the travel section. Of which im quite a regular of - drop by when i have time to kill, just flip through the maps and tracing imaginary journeys with my fingers....

But that sudden jolt into bustling, colonial Rangoon and then back made me realise i should really start writing about my experiences and memories of the Golden Land before time eats away at them. There are memories that never fade, but to me, it is those small things that matter, like the Burmese who taught me how to do up a longyi, giving a life demonstration in an eatery in the middle of no where , or stopping by the road to Mandalay to relieve ourselves and have a group of passing Burmese laugh at us. We could have, on hindsight, chosen a more strategic spot rather than right beside the bloody highway i guess.