Thingyan Festival 2011 (Part 2)

The last day of Thingyan (April 16th) was no less incredible than the one before. People were at their cheering, dancing best. We felt like celebrities in Yangon, minus the TV interview this time. The people in the photo below were waving enthusiastically and calling out to us, in between getting blasted with water. It was hilarious.

The free stuff kept coming too, this time a special New Years drink. A group of ladies were handing out cups of fresh coconut milk filled with scary green slimey things that at first I was sure were slugs. But they were way too bright a green even though I'm still not exactly sure what they were. All the people gathering around were watching us closely, keen to see our reactions, and we didn't let them down. It was a refreshing drink, albeit rich, and the ladies were so eager to dish out more and more for us from their plastic barrel.

Our circuit around the city was shorter than the day before, but also slower, and we got the chance to soak in some wonderful moments with Burmese locals. A group of young people called us over just to chat and take photos, and I ended up dancing with them while others sprayed water at us. It's the perfect snapshot moment to sum up my time in Myanmar: dancing with complete strangers in a foreign country, even though our countries don't see eye-to-eye. No barriers or pretense between us. Only the bond we shared and enjoyed in that moment.

We chatted with a monk on the streets, and then encountered an elderly man named Myinthan who took us to a tea stall for an in-depth chat. His English was pretty good, and he had some interesting things to say about buddhism and Myanmar. He explained how he wanted to move abroad when he was younger, but how Burmese people weren't allowed until 1989, and how even now it's much too expensive. He lost his job and now runs a foreign bookstore, so he encourages tourists to visit Myanmar, because without tourists he can't make a living. He absolutely insisted on paying for our tea. Kym and I felt really bad about it - especially after hearing his situation - but he said it was a tradition to "wish you good luck for the next year."

That evening we went to Shwedagon Pagoda and watched its colours change as the sun dipped below the horizon. People talk about how serene it is - with so many monks, people praying, and the scent of incense filling the air - and I was converted instantly. I just wish my photos could've captured its true atmosphere.