Bagan Hotels
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Burmese hip-hop in Bagan
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So if you could translate "shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me" into Burmese, what would it be? If only hours listening to karaoke dvds on a bus could actually teach a language, I believe I would have attained the level of "Burmese romantic conversation proficient" by the end of our 18-hour busride to Bagan. That previously mentioned '15 hour busride' was extended an additional 3 hours. Undesired-but-half-expected-and-fully-forewarned breakdowns occurred at 7 PM (blown tire), 9 PM (engine failure), and 1:30 AM (second blown tire) at the side of the road. Good thing we ALSO had the 2 'scheduled' stops as well, fortunately in places that served food at 9 PM and 5 AM. After our prompt departure at 3 PM on Monday from Yangon, Nick and I arrived in Bagan after 9 the next morning, fully in tact and still talking to each other.
Oh, yes, as I was wondering, what *would* American hip-hop hits translate to in Burmese? as that's what they're playing next door to this internet cafe (comprised of 3 computers and a few bookmarked "alternative" sites that can access yahoo and gmail). I just don't think people this nice and Buddhist would sing about their ghetto-hoods and bumpin' & grindin'. But then again, I didn't pick up on any Burmese watching those (painful) karoake videos so I could be wrong. But I love hearing "Ghetto Superstar" (circa 1998) right now whatever it may be saying.
Anyways.... so we have spent the past 3 days here in Bagan, the land of not a thousand temples, but FOUR THOUSAND, all within a 30 sq km area and built within two hundred years. Although we have tried hundreds of times, no picture can capture the mindblowing panoramas and the experience of being here. We spent our first full day biking through the arid plains, going from one paya (temple) to another, while passing more of various sizes and forms along the road. That evening we chased the sunset and peddled as furiously as we could to reach the paya with steps along the sides which we climbed up to the top in time to share with only one other French couple, and admired the stunning sunset. Below and stretching to the eastern horizon, the payas were burned red-orange, the sky hovered lavender blue, and land blew a gentle green. Facing west towards the Ayerwaddy river, graphic silhouettes of the payas stood beneath the enormous clouds as the setting sun's orange glory burst between them. Despite our disappointment of being unable to share this experience from looking at our pictures, there is sense of significance in knowing that only personal experience can capture the memory of this moment.
This is only one moment of so many which we have experienced in the short time we have been in Burma so far. This country, this land, these people -- absolutely everything here -- is mindbending, touching, shocking, yet familiar. Haven't you always known that somewhere on this earth must be people who are so down-to-earth and genuinely warm? Yet the context of the famous and passionately reiterated observation of the kindness of the Burmese people only reminds you of the political layers that must be peeled in order to appreciate it. I have many thoughts about it, especially in comparison and contrast to China. In both countries, the vast majority of its citizens share a (heavy) wariness of their government. However, their method of managing their lifestyle and culture couldn't be any more dissimilar. They appeal to very different religions -- one of money, the other of Buddhism. The results are equally polar.
Today is our last day in Bagan. Tomorrow we'll be taking off on the 4 AM bus to Inle Lake, the 'Waterworld' of Burma, and reaching it in the afternoon. 8 hours to Kalaw + 3 to continue to Inle usually would equal 11 hours. But in a country where all things -- including cars, buses, trucks and umbrellas -- follow the Buddhist belief of reincarnation, I believe the state of re-re-re-re-re-re-re-repair of whichever bus we are fated to take will have some surprises along the way. I know, Nothing is Permanent.
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