Peace, Burma

 January 11-12, 2011--Bangkok, Mae Sot (border)

1.11.11

The Burmese, being a superstitious people, tell me this'll be my lucky year with all those ones in my birthday. I have to admit though, spending it alone in a foreign country where I don't speak the language was a little underwhelming. Your virtual bday love was thus much appreciated--texts, emails (with and without adorable pics), etc. I'll get back at ya when I'm in the states.

This trip has been an interesting peek into my...heritage, for lack of a better word. Seeing all the places where my parents used to kick it, meeting relatives I didn't know I had. My parents' date spot was super romantic--right by Kandawgyi Lake, complete with shady tree, lily pads, and a view of Shwedagon and the floating restaurant.

From an analytical (but not technical) perspective, Burma to me, is like an onion. In trying to get at the heart of what's going on with health care, the government, and the people, I've found that there are several layers to unfold and that each one gets not only closer to the heart of the issues, but also a little more complicated and at times, disturbing, to see (thus, the tears).

I talked to family members from Yangon, villagers en route to Mandalay, and people from UNICEF, getting a slightly different perspective from each. Everyone seemed to be more optimistic than the situation calls for, and although some were more candid than others, everyone seemed to display some restraint in what they were willing to say aloud. After talking to people here in Thailand, I'm not surprised given that most people believe 3/4 Burmese people are government informants. My Thai contacts have been a lot more pessimistic, or perhaps, realistic in their descriptions of the health situation, particularly on the border. But more about that later...For now, I'm going to give you my top fives from Burma.

this pagoda had some 7,000 mini-temples

Five things I learned from Burma:

1. "Pole Star Fashions" doesn't necessarily imply anything scandalous befitting pole stars.

2. A motorcycle is an awesome, rather romantic way to check out the scene. Less so, of course, if you're hanging onto your dad's cousin instead of your man (or woman or whatever), but I'd recommend it anyway.

so good, so spicy

3. Trying new, mysterious food can be fun, but avoid biting into a big chunk of something with chili without first having something readily available to tame the ensuing fire in your mouth. (Apparently, fresh lime juice with sugar works great.)

4. The greatest compliment the Burmese can give your looks is that you must be an actor/actress. Take for example, the kids from the island paya. I should also add that they prayed for me to have enough money to buy a Pajero, which I didn't know was considered the utmost in luxury.

5. If you give someone money on the street or in a pagoda, you best be ready to hand out dolla bills to everyone else within 30 seconds. I probably spent more money handing out these bills than on anything else in Burma. I guess I'm kind of a sucker when it comes to that.

the wishing bell thing...they echo all over the pagodas

5 Things I Miss (excluding people):

1. Spinach, Trop 50 Blueberry Pom juice

2. Running, yoga, boxing, swimming (aka gettin back on my game)

3.My bed (these hard ass beds suck) and scented candles

4. House and DesHos

5.Mani/pedis, massages, and blow dryers (aka gettin my groom on)

Five favorite things:

1. Food (minus the pool of grease and sugar)

2.Sunsets (best I've seen not over water)

3. Shwedagon Paya

4. The gold pagodas everywhere and the ancient ones in Bagan

Tata Temple

5. The stories behind the pagodas. Tata Temple, for example, (not its real name) was built in response to a challenge by the king. At some point, she had tripped, revealing her tatas. The king then instructed the present men to construct a pagoda in the likeness of her breast, and that whoever succeeded would get a prize. Naturally, the one who did, was killed. The other cool story I can remember explains the presence of lions in all the pagodas. Legend has it that the princess was one banished to the forest for "being naughty." If I were to interpret my family's speech, I would say this implies something sexually oriented. Anyway, the princess somehow got pregnant by the lion in the forest and carried the human baby to term. After the king died, the people decided to look for the proper heir to the throne by following a magical carriage that moved on its own, with the crown placed on top. This carriage rolled itself throughout town, and into the jungle, finally stopping at the threshold of the little cottage where the banished princess and her young son lived. This boy was then brought back to be king. As he got older, he started wondering who his father was. When he found out, he was so embarrassed, he killed the lion. Afterward, bad things happened. (I can't remember if it was that he was sick or having nightmares or something.) He consulted the monks who told him that he needed to pray to his father to make these bad things stop. Too proud to pray to the lion, the king asked for an alternative. The monk then suggested that he build statues of lions in front of the pagodas so that when he went to pray there, he could indirectly pray to the lion. And so, lions stand guard at pagodas to this day. Pretty silly, but interesting all the same.

Five things I won't miss:

shrimp eyeballs. ew.

1. These hard-ass beds

2. Eyeballs in my food

3. Foot fungus-breeding grounds. Everyone has to be barefoot in all the pagodas...including the one built into an extensive network of limestone caves...no sunlight, lots of drippy water, lots of stanky feet. Ew.

4. Squatmaster toilets

 5. censored internet

my grandparents' graves

palm candy aka sugar (Dad smashed my fingers in the car door)

Tanaka is this paste made from some type of wood. They use it as sunscreen, but ready-made containers of the paste call it "skin whitener." Pale skin is all the rage.

Dunno what it was, but it was pretty good.

yeahhh, check out that bling. the market is packed with jewelery.

the youngest at all pops' parties, by at least 30 years

Pomelo, or whatever they call it...so good. I had five huge ones

This poor owl was so scared. They trap them, then sell them to you to let free...which I did. Ha.

Dad's old office

Censored Internet = More Delayed Posts

Gmail is on the naughty list according to the Burmese government. So is my blog. Heh.

Despite censored internet, Burma is gorgeous. Yangon's a lot like an Asian Guatemala City except that the cortes are longyis and men wear them too, Burmese is spoken instead of Spanish, and the barefoot include not only the pitiable poor but also the revered monks, dressed in deep saffron robes. The sidewalks are crumbly, the street signs and demarcations are more suggestions than rules, and the aromas of the street vendors beckons the taste buds of the brave—or dumb, some might argue.

Spent New Years Eve at Sedona Hotel. Lots of rich Burmese people drinking bottles of Johnnie Walker. It was cool to spend new years in a different country, but for some reason I feel like Gladiator 2011, complete with scene reenactments, Viking and denim fashion shows set to neyo and lady gaga, and a scantily clad Philipino cover band, doesn’t quite represent traditional Burmese celebrations. We were lucky, apparently, to be in the presence of Burma’s most popular band, Iron Cross. Interesting stuff. There was also a martial arts team that performed their stuff, with traditional Burmese music in the background. Really jarring, cacophonous music. I have to admit though, watching a whole mess of drunk Asians is ridiculously amusing. I did really miss celebrating with my homies. Every year I’ve been surrounded by friends, which made sitting in the middle of a room full of strangers a little lonely. Three traditions I missed, aside from hangin with the homies, were watching the ball drop, poppin champagne, and the lucky midnight kiss. Pretty underwhelming NYE over all, but an interesting change of pace.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011—Yangon bus station, 9am

couldn't get more than a few swallows down. too wormy looking

with various relatives

adorable, doing their rounds

It’s been an interesting and exhausting couple of days. Food is constantly being shoved in my face, this aunt or that aunt is pulling or pushing me in one direction or other, everybody’s speaking a language I don’t understand. But we’ve seen some cool things, Shwedagon Pagoda being the most impressive. I wanted to get it right at sunset with the gold and red rays hitting the real gold plating of the biggest dome. We were, as usual, delayed by the large family entourage. Anyway, we didn’t make it in time for the perfect lighting, but we still got some pretty amazing pics of the shining gold against the dark night sky. Stunning.

Saw another paya, sitting in the middle of the Irrawady River. Took a boat to get out there. I'll get pics up on the next post. Strapped for time...have a meeting at this clinic on the border. At that paya though, we kicked it with some kids to whom I had given some money and chocolate. They prayed for me to be an actress because I was "so pretty," and a lady doctor (per my aunt's suggestion)…one more boy finished with the prayer that I marry a rich actor husband. Ha. I'll get their pics up on the next one, too.

So this border town is supposed to be a little dangerous...if you get too close to the border, you can risk getting shot by Burmese child soldiers (who the ppl at UNICEF claim don't exist, but they lied to me). Best get my bulletproof vest on.

Thank you for all the birthday love, too. The texts (including the mysterious 617 east coast text...who are you again?) were much appreciated, as were the emails, with birthday pics and without. More later...

En route to Myanmar (aka no one has any idea what's going on, especially the airline)

December 30, 2010—Shanghai, 3:30am

stared at this board for hours

aggressive shower

Made it out to China finally. With the five-hour flight delay (LAX and I are tight now), we missed both of our connecting flights, leaving us in China for two nights. While I sat in the international terminal, I thought of all the places I could be going if I just hopped on any of the flights leaving within the next eight hours. Dubai, Santiago, and Tahiti were my top three. At Chinese customs, it took a whole team of popo to figure out our itinerary. Being one in the morning after a forever long flight, and having no idea what anyone was saying, was a little frustrating. In the end, we settled for the conclusion that nothing could be determined until we arrived at the other Shanghai airport tomorrow/later today. But they set us up in this comfy hotel with free wifi—awesome—so it wasn’t all awful. Took a hot shower after I figured out how to work it. There’s the big rainfall-esque showerhead as well as the detachable showerhead…but then there are these two small heads at about waist level that shoot water at you horizontally. (see pic) My core was not prepared for the assault when I switched the water source. Ha. After I got over the faint fertilizer smell of the water, the orchid milk body wash was much appreciated. I’m sharing a room with this woman from my flight—really nice, but we can’t really communicate. Ha.

December 30, 2010—Shanghai, 8:00am

Shanghai is cold. Icy almost. And the beds are hard. I felt like I slept on a big crate with sheets. Surprisingly enough, I’m relatively alert after two hours of crate-sleep. Even made it down for breakfast, which involved an interesting array of comida. (see pic) Lots of meat-looking things I couldn’t identify and veggies deep-fried and pickled. They even had deep-fried bread (which actually wasn’t too bad. Yes, I tried it—don’t judge). Unfortunately their soy milk tasted burnt. Didn’t know that was possible. After all that salty food I had to get my sweet fix—worked a good dent in the block of white chocolate I brought. Ha. Breakfast of champions. I considered going to the gym here, but I’d be pushing the clock, and it would kind of suck to get stranded in Shanghai. But I suppose there are worse situations. Aside from the aggressive shower and hard beds, there was another interesting aspect of this hotel room I thought worth mentioning. There’s a slot for your room key as you enter the door. (see pic) Without the card in the slot, there’s no electricity in the room—no lights, no charging, nothing. I suppose it makes it difficult to lose the key, eh? Internet’s kind of spotty, and when it does work all I can get is gmail and PCOR mail…no facebook or travel blogging. 

December 31, 2010—Kunming, 6:30am

great jasmine green tea from the airport

Spent a rather unproductive afternoon/evening in Kunming. Apparently China Eastern Airlines can’t plan too far ahead when one of their flights is delayed. We ran around the Shanghai airport trying to figure out what the deal was with the third leg of our flight from LA to Yangon. Every person directed us to the next, each person speaking less and less English. We ended up having to play it by ear (fine by me, but stressed the pops out, which stressed me out. Ha), not knowing when our next flight was or where we’d be staying in Kunming until we got here. At first glance, the Kunming airport was crazy. After I had been standing around people-watching for awhile, it was still crazy. People milling around, cops in snazzy uniforms standing around, sweet and salty processed foods in bright and shiny plastic packaging everywhere. Oh and the bathrooms. Good god. I hadn’t seen one of these squatmaster toilets-in-the-ground since I’d been in Indonesia, and for some reason, I hadn’t expected to walk into one. Remind me to do my biz on the plane next time. If that’s the standard til I’m back in SF, I’m gonna have bangin quads. Although…having my pops around is having a serious impact on my waistline. I feel like we eat every hour just because” it’s the only time we’ll be at this place in this city.” And maybe my cooking is just bland, but everything is ridiculously salty or sweet to me here. Out of control. I am looking forward to some good Burmese and Thai food, though. I have to admit however, I do miss me a good Barbacoa burrito with guac and all the spicy fixins. Should’ve added Cholula to my travel essentials. Next time.

yeaaahhh. jiggggllllyyy

Hit the gym in the hotel the airline put us up in last night. It was the strangest fitness center I have ever seen—red lights, 70s swoopy ceiling structure, the tiniest treadmill, and two contraptions that are designed to jiggle your gut around with an attached belt. One treadmill, one spinner bike, two fat-jigglers. Haha. Sitting at the Kunming airport…again…waiting for the check-in counter to open up for our flight. Always super early traveling with pops…except of course when we’re in the states and I really want him to be on time. It’s all good though—I let him call the shots. He’s already gotten on me for my “rebellious” attitude, hating when people tell me what to do. What can I say—I don’t take kindly to micromanagers. He even admitted, for the first time, that my brother and I were essentially financially supported orphans, so we have issues. Haha. True story. I think we’ve done alright for ourselves considering, though. It’s kinda funny to have it described that way, particularly by my pops.

December 31, 2010—Yangon, 1:00pm

Finally made it to Burma. As the plane neared our destination, I was like a kid outside a candy store, face glued to the double-pane window, taking in the scene. We flew over a patchwork of greens, browns, lakes, and rivers, dotted by the glinting gold of the pagodas. It was absolutely gorgeous. Customs was a breeze.

Everybody be trippin for no reason. Pops’ cousin or some other relative (I can't keep them straight. Everybody is introduced to me as my cousin or his cousin, and everybody calls me "my daughter" in Burmese) came to pick us up, which made life a lot easier. Pops also decided last minute to switch hotels, canceling our Traders reservation (super shmancy with free censored wifi and a gym) because his med school homies were gravitating toward Panda Hotel. No internet, no gym, which would be fine, but he’s grumpy about me wanting to run outside to see the sights. It makes me want to run more, as juvenile as that is. You know, get my rebel on. But instead, I guess I’ll sit here in this 10’x10’ room for five hours “relaxing” and waiting for his cousins. (Pops later suggested we call them to find out when in that five hour time chunk they’d be coming. Why that wasn’t an acceptable option when I mentioned it…whatevs.) Next time, I travel alone...or at least with someone who can appreciate a more active sort of sightseeing. Being away from home for so long has made it pretty clear that we can only handle small doses of each other. He thinks I’m weird and stubborn; I think he’s self-righteous and inconsiderate. (Disclaimer: he’s my pops and I love him. Wouldn’t be where I am without him.) Whatevs. I think the longer I’m away from him, the more I idealize him, so that when he doesn’t quite measure up in person, boom goes the dynamite. Right about now would be a great time to get back in the ring at EPA Boxing with Johnnie. Get my ass worked and some of this pent-up energy out.