BURMA: Shwedagon Paya

I don't often travel to see things. Sure, things - buildings, temples, skylines - can be quite eye-catching, but they often give you little appreciation for a place without an understanding of their context. People are much more interesting to me. People explain things. People are vibrant and dynamic and exciting. People define the culture out of which things arise. Yet there are some destinations - some things - in the world that, regardless of the height of your expectations, still live up to (or surpass) the hype. (I've heard that the Taj Mahal in India and Angkor Wat in Cambodia are two such places.) For me, even three visits wasn't enough to satiate my appetite for Shwedagon Paya in Yangon, Burma.

Burma is one of the most overwhelmingly (about 90%) Buddhist countries in the world. And for the Burmese Buddhist there is no more important pilgrimmage site (domestically, anyway) than Shwedagon Paya ("paya" meaning, roughly, "pagoda" in Burmese). Sitting like a giant golden Hershey kiss on the highest point in Yangon, Shwedagon looks over everything, and everything looks up to Shwedagon. It greets the first rays of sunlight in the early morning and puts the sun to sleep at night. Even at night it remains illuminated by floodlamp, when it shimmers in stark brilliant contrast to the inky Burmese night sky. It outshines the moon.

To be fair, the dome is probably worth more than the actual moon itself - especially if the legend of its entombed relics is anywhere close to factual. Supposedly, soon after Gautama the Buddha first achieved enlightenment 2500 years ago under the bodhi tree in northern India, two Burmese merchant brothers encountered him with gifts of sweet cake. In thanks (or perhaps trade), the Buddha gave the brothers eight hairs from his own head (I wonder how many hairs they collected on their journey before they found an actual buddha). The brothers brought the future relics back to Burma and presented them to the king, who promptly enshrined them on the highest hill in the city now known as Yangon. Enshrined along with it were a staff, water filter, and part of a tunic from three previous buddhas. The king erected a giant stupa erected above them in their honor.

To pay tribute to the relics contained beneath her, the Burmese have clothed Shwedagon in a golden bejeweled dress that would likely give the country's central bank a run for its, well, money.

The riches: 

• 5,448 diamonds (including a 76-carat jewel at the top) 
• 2,317 rubies
• Lots and lots and lots of gold. (The entire stupa is covered in actual gold plates.)

By day the soft translucent marble of the pagoda platform cools the bare feet of pilgrims and tourists that flock here. Under the cool evening sky it glows like warming coals under the reflection of the giant golden dome above.

In accordance with Myanmar astrology, 8 planetary posts surround the pagoda - one for each day of the week and two for Wednesday -  AM and PM. Pilgrims locate the post for their own birth day to pray for blessings as they pour water over the buddha image and animals that represent their day. 

The pagoda is best seen at sunrise and sunset, though plan to spend a few hours - at least - strolling around the platform or just sitting in silence and soaking it all in. Monks often enjoy approaching foreigners to practice their English. 

To visit: Everyone must take off their shoes, and foreigners must pay 5 USD (per entrance, not per day). It's totally worth it. Like I said, I visited three times. And that doesn't count the times I went just to hang around outside. 

BURMA: Getting there

[June 2012 Update: Visa on arrival now available in Myanmar for citizens of 26 countries. For a full list of countries, and required documentation, visit the Myanmar government's website here.]

For a few months last year, entering Myanmar was a piece of cake. The government had decided to re-instate 'visa on arrival', which meant you could show up at the Yangon International Airport and pay $30 to get an instant visa. Then, overnight, visa on arrival was rescinded quietly. So quietly, in fact, that none of the airlines or passengers flying into Yangon the next day knew about the change. Hundreds of fresh-faced foreigners arrived at immigration with their passports open only to be turned around and told to wait (and pay) for the next available flight back to Bangkok.

Though there is speculation about whether visa on arrival will ever return, as of my visit (January 2011) it wasn't on the program. These days, getting into Myanmar can be something of a catch-22: You don't want to book a flight until you're sure you can get a visa - but you can't get a visa until you have booked a plane ticket. The Myanmar government requires a full itinerary, contact number, and proof of purchase of a round-trip plane ticket before they will issue a visa to enter their country.

When I told him that I wanted to come visit him in Yangon, my friend Ara told me that I'd have to fly into Bangkok and spend a day there in order to get a visa to visit Myanmar. I wouldn't be able to get one in Korea. I said "Ok, no problem" and then I promptly forgot about it.

Two weeks before my trip was scheduled to begin, the price of flights to Bankok had skyrocketed, hundreds of dollars more than I was prepared to pay. Air Asia flights to Kuala Lumpur, however, were still  reasonable. 

I had to find out for myself if I could get a Myanmar visa in Korea. I looked up the website for the Myanmar embassy in Seoul and called their office number. A nice Korean lady picked up immediately - the one with an automated voice who tells you when a number has been disconnected. I called the other number. Korean lady again. I sent them an email. (I'll give you one guess how that turned out.)

[UPDATE: The current working number of the Myanmar embassy is 02-790-3186. Thanks Fiona!]

Several days had passed. The longer I waited, the higher prices climbed. 

Eventually I found a travel agent in Seoul that specializes in group trips to Myanmar. (Koreans rarely travel unless they're in a group.) They had a couple of documents on their website about visa applications, so I called them on the off-chance that they would arrange a visa for a foreigner here. I spoke to a guy named Song who said yes - IF the Myanmar Embassy accepted my application, I would be able to get a visa.

So on a Monday morning, with everything riding on two little obnoxious letters, I bought my plane tickets to KL and Yangon, printed out a two-week trip itinerary, wired Song $50, and sent my passport off to Seoul. If everything went according to plan, the visa would be in my passport by 5pm Friday. 

I was cutting it close. My flight was scheduled for Saturday.

I must have texted or called Song every day for news of my visa. The second day he told me not to worry. "We haven't heard anything from the embassy," he said. That was apparently a good thing.

Friday afternoon at 3pm I finally got a text message from him, saying that he had my passport in hand. My visa was secure.

Saturday at 10am - the morning of the flight - I visited his office; a small, cramped room on the 10th floor of a large apartment building near Jongno tower. His secretary answered the door, smiled, and turned to point at a single blue passport sitting alone on a table in the middle of the room. Mine. 

Back from Burma

I just got back from a two-week sojourn to Myanmar. Unfortunately Blogger is blocked in the country so it was very difficult to post any updates while I was there, but I'll put up some notes in the next few days as I sort through pictures and video that I took.

*side note: I will continue to refer to the country both as Myanmar (the name recognized by the government) and Burma (the name recognized by many of the people), to thoroughly confuse anyone who isn't paying attention.

Thanaka - Burma Rouge

One of the most striking things I noticed when I set out on my first day in Yangon for a stroll through the city was the women. Burmese women are beautiful, innocent and quite elegant. Their pressed blouses and the cut of their long skirts, hugging their hips tightly, exude a graceful sensuality that is lost among the low-cut tank tops and miniskirts of Western pop culture. Like people in most of the developing world, they don't leave the house unless they are well-dressed - according to conservative conventions - and wearing makeup.

Burmese makeup is unlike any I've ever seen. Many of the women - and small children, as well - paint a thick stripe of gold-colored paste in a wide stripe across their cheeks and sometimes their forehead. Thanaka - made from grinding the bark of the Thanaka tree into a powder -  is actually very beautiful if applied well, with a bright gold streak running down the cheek under the eye, fading as it reaches the ear. I found my glance lingering on the face of many a young woman as I passed, and my heart warmed when their bashful eyes met mine and they broke into a wide, inviting smile.



But thanaka is not merely makeup - it has a myriad of uses. It's also good for the skin, protects against sunburn, and its scent is intoxicating.

Or maybe that was all of the curry I never stopped eating...

Blogging in Burma

The first time I tried to log in to Blogger from a cyber cafe in Yangon, Burma's former political and current economic capital city, I got a message saying "Access has been denied." I got the same message for Gmail and Twitter, though Facebook appeared to be free from internet censorship.

There are ways around the censors, though, and the cyber cafe employees are always close by to help you get through to a blocked site. In my case, that involved a site called www.stupidcensorship.com, which re-routes the web address through a masked url. I'm sure there are others.