Burma--Day 1

The guards called us a cab at 4 am to make it to the airport in time. The flight there felt like it lasted five minutes because I was so tired. When we landed there was one other plane on the runway, maybe, and there was an eerie quiet that lay over the small but pristine airport. The four of us got through customs fine and got a taxi into the downtown Yangon to see the Sakura tower which my friend from Burma had recommended for the amazing views of the city. The cab driver was going on and on to us about traveling and such as we drove through the streets littered with cars whose drivers were on the right side while driving on the right side of the road--one of many signs of post colonialism by the British. Not long into the ride we pulled into an alley where the drivers switched out, which was very strange. The second man got into the cab and started talking about how the first man's English was bad and how we probably couldn't understand him, which wasn't really true. He wasted no time pulling out all the stops trying to get us to book tours using his taxi or tour company, pulling out all these brochures and journals full of past tourists' testimonials in favor of the company. We looked politely at everything he handed to us knowing we would not be taking him up on any offers other than the drive to the tower.
We pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a delapidated apartment complex which he told us was his office buliding, I asked him why he'd not taken us to the tower--he wanted us to change money with his company. Interesting thing about this country, there are no banks, you have to trade US dollars for kyat covertly once you get into the country, it's all very bizarre. So we walk into the building and as we're waiting for the elevator to come he tells us that there is a school in the building as well and that we could go see it. We were led to a tiny room on the 5th floor where some 30 odd Burmese children were standing and singing songs in English. We stayed for around 20 minutes and the kids kept singing the entire time, they were on a roll. The teachers pulled us up to the front of the room and encouraged us to take pictures, again, bizarre. After that we headed up to his office to change money. He gave us free coffee and tried to convince us that the view out his window was as good as that from the tower. We each changed only $20 with him to his and his lady boss's dismay then we finally left to go to the tower.
We pulled into this ally and parked. He proceeded to show us around to different guesthouses, a pointless endeavor because we'd already told him we were planning on leaving that day to go to Bago, nevertheless we were led around to see a few rooms in a fairly nice place. When we got back down into the reception area the owner of the place started going off about how we shouldn't trust Indians, that there were plenty of good-hearted Burmese people to help us if we needed it. After the dose of blatant racism we were finally led into the tower where we went to the 20th floor to take pictures and try to get away from this oppressive guide to talk amongst ourselves and figure out what we wanted to do, which was lose him and exchange more money elsewhere in the city for a better rate. In the elevator ride down we broke the news to him and he was noticably agitated. He began lowering the price he'd originally quoted us to take us to the bus station, and we kept refusing. One the bottom floor as the doors opened he threw us his arms and shouted 'two dollars!' as he stormed away. We were unsure if he really expected us to follow him after his little temper tantrum, and we hesitantly started heading in his general direction. We walked down the alley where he'd parked and my friend Natasha talked briefly with him as the rest of us began to take seats at a street vendor to eat, the man finally left in a fit of anger, which was pretty amusing.
The woman who owned the street vendor was very kind. She talked with us about her family--she had a brother and a sister who attended university in Yangon and were now working in accounting in Singapore, but she had to stay in Burma to work to support her three children. Our meals were unbelievably cheap but she wouldn't accept a tip for her hospitality. We then went on a search for a better exchange rate, which we found as we were crossing the street to the market where we'd been told to go. A man standing on the median at a stop light saw us crossing and asked us hurriedly if we needed to exchange money, he told us he'd give 100 kyat more than what we'd gotten from the first man so we accepted. He led us on a treck across the hot city as it was approaching noon and we carried all of our packs with us, which was fun. We were taken into a tiny hallway of a room with four chairs lined up across one of the walls where we all took a seat and were greeted by three more exchanging agents--one for each of us. They stood in front of us and made small talk as a fragile old man sat hunched over in the corner of the room sketchily counting money to give to them. We each changed $40 and needed to get 40 bills from them each. They were very particular about the bills that they accepted, stating that those with sereal numbers that started with 'E' could be counterfit from Thailand. They tried to rip us off several times during the exchange process by first counting out 30 bills, then 10 more, then appearing to hand you the full stack as well as the process of finding bills that they would accept. Poor Shay had $20 stolen from her during the whole fiasco, and I was nearly shorted $10.
After that we left to catch a cab to the bus station to get to Bago. While we were walking we met a random Burmese man who spoke good English named Steven. He just walked up to us and introduced himself, started talking about how he wanted to teach English and asking us where we were from and stuff. He walked with us until we got a cab and he talked to the driver in Myanmar, which was helpful.
The ride was fairly long to the station so we were all pretty groggy when we pulled in and were greeted by no less than half a dozen men literally running up to our cab and demanding that we take their bus. It was pretty intense. We bought tickets for two dollars on a bus that was leaving almost immediately. When we got on board we had to walk on top of these big black tanks of mystery fluid to get to our seats. The ride was short, around two hours, and very pleasant. When we reached Bago we were met by four motorbike taxi drivers who offered to take us to a guesthouse in the town for cheap and to afterwards drive us around to the different pagodas, temples and Buddhas that would no longer have entrance fees this late in the afternoon. We agreed and hopped on.
After dropping off our stuff the first stop we made was a huge reclining Buddha where a large truckload of villagers were stopped off on a pilgrimage to the various religious relics around the town. They rarely see white people, a trend we got even more accustomed to in Golden Rock, so they were very excited to see us and took many pictures with us and held our hands and stuff. It was great, we hung out with them until they got back on the truck and left. Our main motorbike guide, the one who spoke the best English and knew the most about the different sites, told us that they really appreciated it that we didn't just take a quick picture of them and leave, because that was what they were used to when they saw white people. We then walked around the Buddha for a while taking pictures and such before heading off to the next place.
There were many locals in front of the next jewelled Buddha, selling various souvineers and begging for money. I was compelled by this young girl who spoke wonderful English into buying a ton of postcards that I didn't really want or need. We all sat down in front of the Buddha with the guide where he told us about his life.
He said that he used to rip off tourists, he would take them to these same sites and tell them that they still required entrance fees and collect them for himself, then use the money to go out at night with his friends. Easy come easy go, he said he should have been rich for all he took but it was easy come easy go, kharma. He'd since stopped drinking and also stopped ripping off tourists, trying to clean up his life. I've heard many similar stories before, but something about his tone made me believe him, and his actions throughout the rest of our stay confirmed that he truly had the best intentions, which is so rare.
After our discussion we got back on the bikes and rode through the countryside past lush green hills through winding dirt paths and villages dotted with people smiling and staring at the white people, waving often as we rode by. The next stop was at a snake temple which housed this huge python that is believed to be the reincarnation of this girl who was orphaned and raised by monks, then somehow tortured and killed. Our guide said that stories told of monks speaking to the snake in other buildings around the complex and the snake hearing and obeying their commands. Next up was a pagoda on the top of one of the hills we'd ridden past. It was around sunset now, and when we climbed up to the top of the pagoda the view was incredible. There was a low haze over the palm tree forests that surrounded the hill punctuated by huts and villages. You could see the tops of temples and other pagodas poking up through the trees in the distance. It was so beautiful.
After that we went for tea and coffee at a little restaurant back in town that was on the way to the next pagoda. The guide sat and talked with us, only drinking the tea that is provided free of charge at virtually every meal in Burma. The young boys who were the servers brought out three dishes for us to try if we liked, two of meat and vegetable pastries and one of egg pastries. We ate all of them and were full, they were delicious and the coffee is always pre-sweetened.
The last pagoda was all gold and it looked so grand and imposing all lit up at night. It was built after the original one fell in 1917, the foundation of which is still preserved on the side of the new one in a kind of shrine. All around the giant pagoda there are various Buddha shrines with what look like carnival lights flashing around behind them, it's very out of place and amusing.
We walked back down and talked with the guide who agreed to take us to see the monks at their morning meal if we could be ready by 6:30 am. We agreed, they took us back and we all went to sleep on the soft foam beds immediately.