and 'reserved' the driver and his horse cart parked in the shade by
the hotel gate. 8am Breakfast; couldn't eat the fried rice and
scrambled eggs I'd heaped on my plate; stuck to pancakes and toast.
8.30am or so, left by horse cart.
First to the post office to pick up stamps for our post cards. Bought
a couple China-Myanmar friendship cards, Soviet-style collectors'
items now that the Myanmar flag has changed. Then up the road to
Mylinka (the lacquer-ware village) and Old Bagan and lots of temples:
First temple had some remnants of paintings on the walls of the square
ambulatory around the central huge Buddha statue. Outside a young man
was selling his sand-paintings. Crushed stone is glued to cotton, then
painted on. A man our age with a khaki shirt and sunglasses who spoke
good English explained the process to us; he was a painter too, but
had his 'stall' at the temple across the road. I bought a picture of
eight women in elephant pose; the baby elephants somersaulting were
fun, and the more classic nats playfully devouring humans too; all so
beautiful. The hip dude has a German lady friend from Munich who buys
a lot of his paintings; he says his are higher quality coz he uses
real gem stones rather than just sand. Bought a small round lacquer
box from the girl by the entrance who'd followed us discretely, just
1000k but still "good luck money" she said, and she tapped all her
wares with the bill.
Went across the road next, and there met a gentle young man with good
English who says he finished the 8th grade then learned how to paint
in New Bagan and now comes every day from across the river to this
temple to paint. His parents are farmers; he is an only child. He had
a sister but she died (when she was 6 or 6 years ago).
A temple with a quiet center where the young painter pretty much
ignored us but pointed to the stairs where we could ascend to an outer
platform on high. Panoramic views all around. Hot hot hot on three
sides, but pleasant on the one shady side. A young boy came and sat a
little way off from where we lounged. As we got up to descend he went
ahead of us and lit the way down the stairs with his flashlight.
A large temple with a lot of painters in the courtyard. One savvy
entrepreneur made me a 30 second sketch of a lion and wrote his name
down the side; a business card. Another asked me where I was from and
guided me to his patch. I said I'd view the temple first. What a gem!
No photos allowed, so don't have a record, but extensive wall
paintings like frescoes. A couple official guides were there with
small groups, carrying light bulbs which did a much better job of
illuminating the walls and ceilings than little flashlights. The life
of Buddha in 465 panels, some decorative friezes, that kind of thing.
Gorgeous. If only the restoration work would continue, if only some
money would be put into displaying the work, if only guides could
relay the history and context of the period and significance of the
work. An enormous Buddha centrally, filling the whole space to the
last inch, as when someone buys a plot of land and builds his house
right up to the fence. Smaller Buddhas in alcoves at the points of the
compass. Outside and across the courtyard through a gate is a stupa,
toured by walked around outside. There was a small menhir in a metal
cage; I overheard this was engraved with the four scripts of the
kingdom – a kind of Burmese Rosetta Stone. Peaceful 'round the back; a
Western couple I'd been seeing chilling in a doorway in the shade.
A temple with a lot of upscale vendors on the way in. Lots of awesome
green lacquer-ware. Photos of the destruction caused the temple by the
1975 earthquake. This is the Ananda temple, I think. Got lost coming
out – realized when at the end of the carpet out through the vendor
stalls, I didn't see my shoes. A very tall thin Buddha in the center.
A temple with lots of Buddhas on the outside. Quiet. Only other people
there were a Burmese family touring in a van, who we'd seen at the
last place. The man applied gold leaf to the Buddha, and encouraged us
to do so too. Lello apologized saying he wasn't a Buddhist. A robust
woman my age wanting to sell me a Burmese shirt. Nice cotton and sewn
button-loops, but boxy. She spoke a fair amount of English and was
persistent in a nice way and I wish she'd been selling something I
wanted to buy.
A temple where Lello had had enough but I climbed to the top and a
girl accompanied me. She pointed out windows framing the view nicely,
and pointed out the New Palace and the ruins of the foundations of the
Old Palace from the roof. She explained the turquoise blue planters
down below along the road were empty since the trees had been taken
away again after the government celebration. That temple there in the
distance is the Big Temple, this one over here is the Beautiful
Temple, she told me. Once back at ground level, she led me past all
the other vendors sitting in the shade, to her lacquer-ware stall, and
I bought a jewelry box with copper-wire inlay.
We trotted past the Bagan Archeological Museum, a large building with
groomed garden fountains, but not a soul in sight. The main gate was
shut fast, but a side gate stood ajar; the most overt sign of welcome.
We also passed the Museum Archive and Library (or some such), a low
building that looked as glossy as the museum and as unloved.
We lunched just beyond Old Bagan at a vegetarian restaurant playing
James Taylor. A decorative umbrella filtered orange light over us. Had
a delicious pumpkin soup with ginger and a coconut-vegetable soup,
papaya salad, and lime-honey-ginger drinks. Blissfully fresh. Checked
out the large heavy ceramic pots on sale across the dusty square;
Lello says he feels attracted to that stuff, like a home-coming. It
did look rather Tuscan, with green and ochre glaze.
Visited one last temple (one of the above?) and then trotted back to
New Bagan for the sunset at the Queen Temple on the river. Few people
there, which was nice, and nice views over the river and children
frolicking in the water and kicking a ball on the beach. Decided we'd
rather be in the pool as well, so picked up some water at a store and
headed back to Kaday Aung. Paid and thanked our taciturn guide, who
had not cracked a smile all day.
Eased into the cold pool and swam some refreshing laps, then chilled
in the room, paid the hotel bill and booked a taxi for the 'morning'.
Music drifted in from the restaurant area with the stage for puppet
shows, and we caught the tail end of a monkey dance and a whole ogre
dance over a dinner of rice and vegetables. The puppeteer came down
off the stage and danced his marionette around the tables, encouraging
guests to try their hand at it (and make a donation).
Packed up and crashed around 10.30pm.
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