22feb2011 (Tues) - Mandalay: Old Capitals Around Mandalay (Tourist Trail)

Today we hit the tourist trail hard, shuttled around the Mandalay
surroundings in an open-backed blue taxi, accosted by young girls
selling jade necklaces and collapsible sun-hats. Ashin our monk-friend
came with us.

Before embarking on the Grand Tour, we made an early sortie to the
jade market about 10 blocks south of our hotel. Lots of chunks of rock
of all sizes, sandy brown on the outside, pale green or dark green or
orange brown on the inside. Buyers evaluated quality or purity or
something by shining a their flashlights into the core of stones. Men
and women vendors squatted side by side, Burmese and Chinese, old
women rubbing shoulders with young punks.

More confusion over the location of breakfast once back at the hotel
at 7.45am, where Ashin was early for our 8am rendezvous. Upstairs. In
the room, like yesterday we supposed. No breakfast. Back to the
reception. Yes, yes, upstairs. Eventually it became clear there was in
fact a breakfast room nobody had bothered to mention to us.

Head out of town stopping at the marble carvers and the wood carvers
and the embroiderers, and later at the weavers. Witnessed amazing
dexterity.

Made it to the monastery where at 10.30am every day more than 1000
monks can be watched lining up for their breakfast, and photographed
eating it. Mobbed with tourists, some not shy to thrust their large
lenses in the monks' faces . Rather unsettling. Ashin spent a year at
this monastery when he was a kid, and said the abbot would beat him
several times a day for not remembering his 'fana' (I believe this is
the language of religion here, like Latin) correctly.

From there we continued to our own lunch in a river side restaurant by
the pier where we were supposed to catch a boat over to Inwe, a royal
capital with lots of pagodas. We decided to skip it (sounded like a
lot of shuttling with lots of other tourists just then arriving in
large air-conditioned buses) and continued straight on to Sangway
instead: another royal capital with more pagodas. There we climbed the
main one, accompanied up the never-ending staircase by a couple keen
on speaking with us though we shared no common language (Ashin turned
out to be a very half-hearted translator).

And finally on to U Bein Bridge to hang out at a shady 'cafe' (banana
fronds lashed together with ties made from plastic bags). Ashin
procured two plastic water bottles of palm wine for us to sip on (it
smells like a farm and the first taste is of barnyard, but it tastes
good going down) as we walked the kilometer or so across the longest
wooden bridge in Myanmar. There's a cluster of shops at either end,
nothing remarkable -- but we had some charming encounters with locals
on the 'crossing.'

Dropped by the photo shop to pick up the prints we'd ordered, for
Ashin and the orphanage and the women making sunscreen at the temple.
We said a heartfelt goodbye to Ashin, and promised to stay in touch;
Lello has been encouraging him to think about visiting Italy. I could
swear there was a tear in his eye.

Had dinner at the same Indian restaurant as last night, and Luc (a
Frenchman from the bridge) waved hello as he passed by. Took a walk
along the moat and over a bridge to the Palace walls (the walls are
original but the palace was reconstructed by the Government in 1990).
and hung out chatting by the water.