Finally, after just a bit more than two weeks into my Asian escapade and I contract the dreaded yucky tummy. I got off pretty easy actually, as it didn't persist for more than 24 hours, nor did I have to break into my stash of Ciproflaxin (those are some seriously strong antibiotics for when you get it BAD!) I think it was the tuna croissant I had on the plane- which I had handled just fine on the first flight into Inle, so I didn't think twice about having it on the same flight a few days later. I threw it up in the middle of the night and went back to sleep with horrible cramps. The next morning I managed to have some toast and tea for breakfast, but I was not in good shape. I won't go into any more detail besides saying that I popped some Immodium, struggled through the pre-arranged (and pre-paid) day tour to the ancient capitals outside the city, had only a cookie and a Coca-Cola, and by the end of the day was ready to test my stomach at the famous Chapatti stand. The food was amazing and my stomach didn't mind it either, so I said a prayer to the gods of digestion and had myself a good 12-hour sleep that night!!
But enough about that, I'm sure you all want to hear more about Mandalay than about my yucky tummy .... Some people say to skip Mandalay altogether. Others say that it's worth it for the side trips--the villages and attractions found outside the city that can be seen in a day or half-day trip. I gave it three full days to see for myself, figuring that if I had my fill of sightseeing I could reward myself with a do-nothing day, sometimes necessary when you're traveling at full-throttle and need a break to absorb all that you've seen and done (and catch up on emails to friends and loved ones back home).
Mandalay and its environs seem to contain a lot of superlatives. The U Bein Bridge in the former capital of Amarapura is the longest teakwood bridge in the world. Nearby Mingun, just a quick riverboat ride across the Irrawaddy from the Mandalay jetty holds the largest hung, un-cracked bell in the world (a larger one hangs in Moscow but it is cracked!). And in a quiet monastery in the city itself is the "world's largest book", really a series of stone slabs with writing that fill the place from one end to the other and around again.
Mandalay is Myanmar's (and possibly the world's) capital of Buddhist monasteries. If the rest of the country doesn't seem to have enough monks walking around in flowing red robes, Mandalay is positively full of them. Apparently becoming a monk is a rite of passage for Burmese men. What is the rate of Burmese men that become monks? 100%. Well then how does anyone ever get married or have children?! They're not monks forever. It's a little bit like compulsory military training, except exactly the opposite. Likening it to a "Buddhist bootcamp" is kind of like the biggest contradiction I could ever make. All Burmese men go into the monastery for a time, usually as young teens during their 3-month summer holiday from school. It sounds a bit like going into the seminary, but a lot less serious of an undertaking. I asked Min-Min, the amazingly helpful receptionist at the Royal Guest House (who, not to mention, spoke the best English of any Burmese I met in the entire country), if he was ever a monk. "Yes of course." For how long? I enquired. "Well, for me, only 10 days!" I wondered if he resisted it like I fought going to sleep-away camp.
The sights were beautiful, but like some other places I have traveled (India and Vietnam come to mind), the people of Mandalay didn't impress me at all. Up to that point, it had been A+, 110% all the way. The people were kind, helpful, and respectful, and all they expected was that that be reciprocated. It's not that the Mandalay people were rude or unfriendly, but they seem to have very little experience seeing and interacting with Westerners. Oh geez, here she goes, poor little entitled traveler girl, complaining about going to a foreign country that has been closed off to the world until just recently, and being bothered by how awkward the people are acting. But really, it sucked!! Maybe I wasn't managing my expectations well, and set a standard for the Burmese after encountering such warmth earlier in the trip. Maybe I needed an attitude adjustment, and it was all in my head. Nonetheless, I'll tell you what happened.
I went to the market with my favorite black skirt, the one I accidentally burned with an iron. I found a tailor who said he would duplicate it for me but I had to venture out and track down the same material, or at least one that would suffice. Walking around the fabrics section of the market, the looks the people gave me made me feel like a circus freak! Or a zoo animal. Or like I was deranged and didn't realize it. I made sure to dress as to not offend anyway, but maybe I should have dyed my hair dark and worn a mask instead. Suddenly I was a stranger in a strange land. Everywhere I went, people were saying "Hello!" as a test. When I responded, "Hello!" or "Hi!" as usual, they turned to each other and laughed hysterically. What was so funny? I was like a dog that had just performed a trick on first request. And that made me seriously wonder... where's my biscuit? The staring was different, not just surprise, but really like I had just touched down from another planet. It left me feeling fatigued and wanting to hide out in my room for the rest of the time. But don't feel bad for me. Not all days can be good- even in Myanmar!!!
More on Mandalay in the next post...
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