out of town. Tired of waiting for Raf & Alicia (an Australian on the
road since October, following the Buddhist retreat route) & French
Girl & Japanese Guy to decide their plan of action, and hopped an
'open air' blue taxi to Hongta Hotel (these taxis are like mini pick
up trucks with seats along either side of the chassis and a canopy
over the top). Our hotel is right by the Western moat surrounding the
Palace. Mandalay is laid out in a grid, with the intersections (rather
than roads) conveniently marked -- we are staying at 82nd St between
26th and 25th.
Got to the hotel and the 20-something-year-old overnight staff looked
at our reservation slip blankly before asking us what our room number
was. Eventually we got settled in a 6th floor room looking south over
the concrete office blocks of the center city, and somehow took a nap
amidst the cacophony of a Mandalay morning -- honking cars,
construction, drummers, and other unidentified percussion. We asked
for another room but it wouldn't be ready until after noon.
Emerged about 8am and hooked a right around the back of our hotel to a
local street-side 'cafe' where we had 'pancake with egg' (resembled an
omelet) for breakfast overlooking a fleet of parked scooters. We
ambled further and found our way to the Clock Tower and Zengyo Market,
which has everything on sale. Even Naga masks from the northeast
border area, collected by a pharmacist-businessman who trades Western
medicines for them.
Returned to a quieter room on the second floor at the rear of the
building, overlooking a Christain church complex, and napped to the
sound of birds chirping.
Went up Mandalay Hill to catch the sunset from the pagoda at the top,
along with several hundred other tourists (mostly Asian). We caught a
blue open-air taxi to the base of the hill, then a car taxi half way
up the hill (stronger engine), then took the escalator up to the top
(in scale much akin to the escalators at the Tate Modern or Jubliee
Line). First time I've been on an escalator in my bare feet (you've
got to remove your shoes as soon as you are on pagoda ground.)
Sunset was far from spectacular, but I loved the chimes tinkling on
the corona of the pagoda and on the lamp posts around the perimeter.
A young monk (24 years old) approached us and asked whether he could
speak English with us, and we hung out for about an hour as dusk
settled, before walking down (the stairs, this time) to 'our' waiting
open-air taxi. The driver said he'd been back and forth a number of
times, and we were the last ones down. We hadn't asked him to wait.
We dropped off Ashin, our young friend, at the Sedona Hotel (close to
his Monastery, apparently) before carrying on to the show by the
dissident Moustache Brothers. Apparently two of the three brothers had
gotten jailed in 1995 for subversive conduct, and sentenced to 7 years
hard labor. But the third brother carried on with the show, and it
continues every night to this day, performed indoors (they are banned
from performing on the street) and exclusively for tourists. The humor
is bland to tame by Western standards, with most of the show
consisting in Pyun Law showing off his knowledge of English idiom to
quaint effect. But he does have signs printed up with the likes of
'KGB, CIA, Mossad' written on one, 'General, Major, Commander' on
another, which locally must be deemed edgy. The two jokes he told in
the hour-long routine were 1. Relates how in Burma it's all see no
evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, and how a Burmese man goes to see a
dentist in Thailand; the dentist says, 'But surely, you have dentists
in Burma?!'; the man answers, 'Yes, but there we can't open our
mouths; 2. Everything is very safe in Burma coz the police crack down
heavily on theft and corruption -- because they don't like
competition.
After 15min or so of 'running commentary', the show moved on to dance
'demonstrations', with the brother and the wife and the sister-in-law
and the sister all appearing in various jester-like or animal
costumes. In the Lonely Planet it discussed how the show could go on
because the Moustache weren't 'performing' but were giving
'demonstrations of performance.' Or some such 1984-ish circumlocution
for what they are doing.
The 1/2hr walk back to the hotel took more like 45mins since we turned
the wrong way down 26th. Passed much Donald Judd-like neon tubing
along the road-side, illuminating shops and an Anglican churchyard.
Stopped at a counter selling sticky rice with coconut and peanuts --
seems it's a dish that is sold to be given as a gift.
No comments:
Post a Comment