Diterbitkeun: 08.12.2018
After our 5 days at the beach, we take the bus back to Yangon. Why are we doing this? No, we didn't forget anything. No, we didn't find the city soooo amazing that we want to go there again. It is not on the way to the next destination either. There simply is no other way to get to the north. From Ngwe Saung Village, the buses only go to Yangon and there is no other means of transportation available (except of course if we take a taxi for 700 km). So it's back to Yangon again. The journey takes 1.5 hours longer during the day, but there is a lot to see. We have typical Burmese curry for lunch (many small curries to choose from, with rice, soup and raw vegetables).
In Yangon, we spend one night in a very cheap hostel, where we sleep in cabins. The corridor looks like in a prison and behind each grey sliding door there is a mattress for two people, including a light bulb and a fan (ours is in ladybug design). It is more comfortable than it sounds, somehow cozy, and the shower is warm and has water pressure!!! WOW. The little things in life...
From the bus we have already seen that there is something going on in the park near the Sule Pagoda. The festival of lights is in full swing and as soon as it gets dark, so from 6 PM, we pay it a visit. Live music, food stalls and endless LEDs. Tunnels, figures and tree decorations. It looks super beautiful and everyone is in a photo frenzy. The only thing we are missing at such a festival are the beer stands. We stroll through the park, take a close look at everything and just can't find alcohol. The hip kids are getting drunk on energy drinks and an Indian boy/man, who is obviously celebrating his birthday with his friends, comes up to us with cake smeared on his face and wants to give us a piece of cake. Even there we can only find energy drinks and water. Well, why not.
But we talk a lot about what such a festival would look like in Germany. A beer cart every 100 meters, with people crowding around it, the grounds lined with men peeing in the bushes, and a 200 meter long line in front of the ladies' toilet.
We take advantage of the cozy atmosphere of the festival to smoke our traditional cigarette, which we bought for 50 MMK (2 cents) at a street stand. It looks like a slim green cigar and is very mild. Just right for us non-smokers.
And of course, we try out the extensive street food offerings. Burmese crepes, sugarcane juice, skewers, dough pockets filled with pork... Later, we sit down at one of the street stalls with the tiny plastic stools. There we find all kinds of skewers (vegetarian or with meat), noodles, and soup. You can eat as much as you want and afterwards the wooden skewers are counted. We order two portions of stir-fried noodles with vegetables and soup. And pay 2000 MMK. That's a little more than 1€. Even for Asian standards, that's EXTREMELY cheap, but it wasn't a taste explosion either.
When the live music ends, we go to our sleeping box.
Fondue with pork parts and offal
Several people have already told us that the monks and nuns in Yangon are celebrating the end of the fasting period today. Once a year, the monasteries are allowed to choose the day, monks and nuns wander through the streets and receive a new basic equipment. By that I mean things like pots, fans, flip flops, blankets, personal care products, but also money and food. As we stroll through the city, we come across such a procession and of course watch the spectacle. People have set up tables and stalls on the side of the road to distribute their donations. Small children are put on stools and hold out banknotes to the monks. It is also noticeable that about two carriers come to each monk, carrying the sacks with the donations. The monks themselves briefly touch the donation (blessing?) and the assistant accepts it and packs it up. At the end of the streets, transporters are waiting to load the sacks. Occasionally, a very old monk is carried past us on a litter. This reminds me a little bit of meetesingen, when the moms and dads carry their children's sweets and lanterns. The mean thing is: the nuns walking at the end of the procession have no assistants and have to carry the donations themselves. In addition, they often don't get anything anymore and money is certainly not given to them.