Meanwhile, back in the city … Bangkok remains as wonderful and chaotic as ever. Daily traffic jams, and daily delights on the streets and in shops, bars, restaurants, and drugstores. You never know who you're going to run into ... or over. Which is a reminder to watch out where you're walking; those motorcycles on the sidewalk will flatten your ass if you aren't looking.
They held national elections in Thailand while I was away and predictably, and disappointingly, the PP Party (People's Power or Pathetic Pranksters?) was the winner. If there is any justice left in this country, they will be disqualified before they are able to take office. This group of goons might make the Thaksin regime look lovable by comparison.
Business continues to be brisk lately: the number of tourists passing through town seems higher than in recent years. Thankfully, most of the tourists are spending money, but as I noted in a post last month, we still get a few slacker backpacker types who are content to drop by and persue our books (usually guidebooks) for an hour or two (or three or four hours, in the case of some diehard loiterers) without buying anything more than a bottle of water or a coffee. It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t monopolizing a table the entire time.
While I was in Myanmar, my business partner Kiwi related this incident that happened in the store one day: a lady and her husband came in, browsed the shelves, and put some books on the counter, intending to buy them. The woman went upstairs to browse some more, but came down a minutes later, clearly upset. She said that the section labeled "ROMANCE/CHIC LIT" was an insult to woman. She said that it made it seem like women were not intellectual. So she refused to buy the books and left the shop. The husband just smiled as he trailed her out the door. As I’ve said in the past, I clearly don’t believe in that crap that the “customer is always right.” If someone is offended by something in my store, I’m not going to bend over and beg them to stay. Obviously, there more than a few nutcases out there, and this was one good example. It’s not like we invented the term “chic lit.” I don’t think the term “chic lit” degrades women or categorizes someone as “not intellectual” just because they like to read something fun and romantic once in a while. Next thing you know, someone will come in and complain that we’ve got Stephen King book in the Horror section, or that Al Franken is in Humor. Lighten up, folks, they are only labels.
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A monk in Mandalay finds a quiet spot for reading.
A foggy morning on the Ayeyarwady River in Mandalay.
Guitar playing fruit seller in Yangon.
All eyes on an outdoor soccer game in Mandalay.
A cat finds a nice literary place for a nap in Yangon.
At Sandy’s Myanmar Cuisine restaurant with guide supreme Kyaw Zay Latt, more commonly known as Eugene.
A Burmese style traffic jam in Mandalay.
One of the many enthusiastic young kite flyers in Nyaungshwe.
A painter in Nyaungshwe displays his wares.
Betel nut stains on the road to Maing Thauk.
Novice monks at Shwe Yan Pyay in Nyaungshwe.
Novice monks at Shwe Yan Pyay pose for tourists.
Water jugs at Shwe Yan Pyay.
Sunrise in Bagan.
Groups of monks on morning alms rounds converge at an intersection in Nyaungshwe.
Young orphans at the Myanmar Buddhist Orphanage Association in Mandalay.
Buying horsefeed in Bagan.
Village children in New Bagan.
Novice monk bails water from a canoe in Nyaungshwe.
When it comes to outdoor fun, the Burmese have an array of choices. They can play games such as football (soccer to the Americans), volleyball, chinlon (similar to takraw, in which players kick a cane or wicker ball back and forth across a net), or badminton. Flying kites, hide and seek, and playing marbles are also popular choices for the kids. 
When I was in New Bagan, I noticed one little boy hanging out on the fringes of the regular postcard-selling group of kids that wait in front of my hotel. I invited him and his sister to join us for a few meals and a horse cart ride around the pagoda ruins. One afternoon, while browsing in a nearby store, I noticed badminton sets for sale. I asked the boy, whose name is Zin Maung Maung, if he wanted to play. He replied yes, so I bought the set for him, figuring he could play with his sister, two younger brothers, or friends. But first, he wanted to play a game with me. I hadn’t played badminton in … let me think … at least 30 years or more. But it’s not a game that is too difficult to play, no matter how long the lay off, and was swatting that little birdie around effortlessly. Zin Maung Maung, however, had a bit more difficulty. I can’t be certain, but it appeared that this was the first time that the nine-year-old had ever played. But he seemed to enjoy our badminton session, and later he thanked me in Burmese. He’s a nice, polite kid, but yet another one in this village that is not attending school on a regular basis. His older sister is also a sweetheart and very polite, but she also hangs out with the postcard sellers. Trying to get these kids in school to stay is proving to be a big challenge. 
The only game that bothered me seeing played was during one of my many orphanage visits. I came across a group of young boys playing “soldier,” taking turns running around corners and trying to shoot one another with toy guns, or sticks. Granted, this is a universally popular pastime for young boys, but in light of the current situation in the country, seeing these youngsters playing such a game was a bit unnerving. 
The next day Walter returned with gifts for the teachers. They were quite happy to receive those, but no doubt even happier that this was the last school day of the year and could look forward to ten days of vacation time! 
Prior to going to this school we had heard that visiting public schools in Myanmar was usually not possible. You must obtain permission from the school, or a local authority first. But when we asked in New Bagan, everyone assured us that visiting was not a problem whatsoever. And that appeared to be true. The teachers and students seemed very happy to have us drop by. 
While we were in the neighborhood, we also dropped by the Kuthodaw public library, which was started by Win Thuya (a native of New Bagan) last year. The bookshelves are now full of books and magazines, including some English language titles; both novels and children’s books. If you are passing through New Bagan, you are welcome to drop by and visit the library. It’s located just off the main road, near the town’s morning market. 
The director was a nice man named Ko Ko Gyi. He showed me around the orphanage, one which houses 180 boys. The campus is quite large, giving the boys enough room to play games such as football and chinlon. There are newer buildings that house classrooms and a dining hall, but they boys currently sleep in an old, crumbling dormitory with bunk beds. Thanks to donations from a German group, the orphanage has been able to buy computers for one of their classrooms, along with new water storage tanks, but there still is much to be done. 
I was impressed by what I had seen, and the dedication of the staff. I planned to bring a friend with me to visit the following day, so I asked Ko Ko Gyi what we could bring the kids. He said that they had enough stationery supplies (pens, pencils, notebooks, etc.) but he suggested the children could use sports equipment such as footballs, cane balls to play chinlon, and badminton sets. So, the following day I went to the market in Mandalay and bought several of each. 
In retrospect, I should have purchased even more stuff, especially badminton sets (which the younger kids seemed to prefer). There just wasn’t nearly enough for everyone to use at one time. But what I was able to bring certainly was appreciated. The kids all lit up when I returned the next day with my trishaw driver (not my usual driver, Myint Shin, but another nice fellow I know, Hashim) and distributed the goods. Ko Ko Gyi had already left for the day, but one of his assistants was there, along with the Buddhist monk Abbot, U Sandimar (I love that name: it sounds like what you’d call Sandi Shaw if she married Johnny Marr---okay, only Smiths fans might understand this one!). 
This is definitely a place that I will return the next time I visit Mandalay. Just to see smiles on the faces of the children is worth every kyat I spend on balls or donate to the orphanage. The children can also use donations of clothing, blankets, toys and books. 
Yes, Burmese teashops aren’t just places to sip tea. During the day, especially in the mornings, they are filled with hungry customers, wolfing down bowls of noodle specialities such as monhinga, ohno kauk swe, and mondhi. And each one of those dishes has subtle variations. For example, I discovered shwe taun kauk swe for the first time on this trip. And I entirely blame my friend, Ma Thanegi, for turning me on to see many addictive noodle dishes. Another Yangon friend and noodle nut, Sandra Gerrits, says that I should try kyay-oh next time. 
Burmese teashops are also the place where locals go to socialize, catch up on news, and gossip. If there is a football match (usually an English Premiereship game) on the tube, there will be a crowd watching it. In Yangon I tend to hang out at the Yatha Teashop on Mahabandoola Road, and the Morning Star Café on Sayasan Road, just off Upper Pansodan Street. Yatha is just a tiny hole-in-the-wall joint, but the service is attentive and the tea is tasty. It’s always full of customers, some of whom you’ll share a table with due to the lack of seats. During one of my visits last month I sat with a nice older couple (I’m guessing they were in their late 60s or early 70s) who spoke excellent English. After hearing that I was American, they wanted to know my opinion about who would be the next president. The gentleman was very knowledgeable about the world and current events; besides American politics, our conversation touched on President Sarkozy of France, the troubles in Iraq, and global warming. I asked this gentleman for advice on what sort of gift I could take to families I would be visiting in Bagan and Mandalay. He laughed and replied: “Money! Everybody needs more money nowadays.” 
I met my friend Win Thuya at Morning Star a couple of times during my Yangon stay. He’s the one that started the Kuthodaw community Library in New Bagan last year. The next project he is thinking of starting is something that can help local students and keep them in school. I had been telling Thuya about my attempts to get some postacard-selling kids in New Bagan that I know back in school. I’ve been disappointed because everytime I return I find them standing in front of hotels, trying to sell souvenirs to tourists, instead of attending classes. Thuya feels that the money could be better utilized to help the kids that DO attend classes. Some of these kids can afford to go to school, but they often don’t have enough money to eat lunch each day. At this point I’m inclined to agree with Thuya. He’s looking into the logistics of working with some schools in New Bagan so we can assist needy students. 
At Morning Star I passed out photos I’d taken on my previous trip to some of the kids that work there. Like at most teashops in Myanmar, the staff is almost entirely comprised of teenage boys. They don’t go to school either; they just work 12-hour days (or longer) at the teashop, and sleep there too. Some of them make as little as 8,000 – 10,000 kyat (less than ten dollars) per month in salary. Sure, all their meals are taken care of, and they have a place to sleep, but that’s still a pretty paltry salary. It’s no wonder they appear so happy when I leave tips! 
Morning Star also has a branch in Mandalay, and my friend Walter and I stopped by there almost every morning for breakfast, along with Myint Shin, my favorite trishaw driver. It’s not as big as the branch in Mandalay, but the kids that work there are very pleasant and provide excellent service. On our last morning in town, Walter passed out t-shirts to all the staff at Morning Star. That and some final tips from us brought out more big smiles. 
My favorite place in Mandalay is not a teashop but a restaurant: Aye Myit Tar. It’s located on 81st Street, only a few blocks from the house where the Moustache Brothers perform their show each evening. Due to that location they tend to get a few tourists dropping by in the evenings. What can I say about this restaurant? I like the food, despite the oily curries, but it’s the overwhelmly attentive and goofy service that really hooks me. Like the teashops, the staff is entirely boys who work long shifts and live on premises. But they seem a happy lot overall; smiling and laughing, and even singing when the urge takes over. 
I also brought the Aye Myit Tar crew a bunch of photos from my last trip. They remembered me as the crazy foreigner who always leaves big tips, so the service was even more attentive than usual. At this restaurant, along with your main dish give you as many free refills of their side dishes (creamed corn, butter beans, soup, tea leaf salad, tomato salad, etc.) as you can eat, so I was more than stuffed each time I ate there. 
I decided that these hard working kids deserved some gifts, too, so after consulting with Myint Shin, I ended up going to Zeigyo (the big market in Mandalay) and buying thirty white t-shirts for the crew. Thankfully, the whole lot fit into my backback and I was able to cycle over the next day and distribute the bounty. Gotta love those smiles! 
One of my favorite activities when in Myanmar is visiting local markets. And I’m not talking about shopping centers or supermarkets, but the traditional outdoor bazaars that sell everything from food and flowers, to kites and Manchester United posters. An explosion of vivid colors and enticing smells (and yes, a few revolting odors, too) are certain to greet you. 
Every town or city in Myanmar, no matter the size, has at least one bustling morning, or an all-day market, where you can roam the aisles and soak up the sights. The markets in Shan State towns such as Nyaungshwe and Pyin U Lwin are particularly interesting, packed with a rainbow of products and ethnic groups. 
During my wander around the market in Nyaungshwe last week, a friendly local man struck up a conversation, pointing out the differences between spices such as turmeric and saffron. The market in Nyaungshwe doesn’t stay open all day. If you don’t get there by noon, most of the vegetable and fruit vendors have usually sold out of their goods. 
The markets are also places to get a good cheap meal; particularly a hot, steaming bowl of Shan noodles if you are in Shan State. Someday I hope to go to Rakhaing State where they serve a noodle specialty that translates as “burn throat, burn tongue.” Now that’s what I call spicy! 
Nevertheless, like most Burmese, Maung Soe Tint remains cheerful and is always doing nice little things to make his customers happy. One night he emerged from the kitchen with a treat for our party (me and my friend Walter, and about ten kids from the village we were treating to dinner): banana flambé. The kids had never seen a “fire banana” before and were amazed by the whole thing. 
One morning, Maung Soe Tint and his wife invited us to breakfast at their home; a tasty meal of noodles and veggies. If that wasn’t enough, they gave Walter and I each a lovely sand painting. But that’s a typical example of Burmese hospitality. When you drop by someone’s home, don’t be surprised to leave with a gift of some sort. These people are amazingly kind. 
Our last night in town we invited even more kids to the restaurant. Naturally it took a few extra minutes for Maung Soe Tint and his staff to cook all the food. One kid, Kyaw Kyaw, had to wait the longest for his meal to be served. I think he thought it was never going to emerge from the kitchen. And when his food finally showed up, he pleaded with us not to leave the restaurant until he had finished eating. Hey, we weren’t going anywhere. We were all waiting for another “fire banana.” 
The area where Misan is located is just down the road from a village where most of the postcard-peddling kids in the area live. During the past two years I’ve gotten to know several of the families in this village. But I sometimes get confused about which children belong to which family: the doors of the thatched-roof homes are always open and people drift in and out the room, carrying babies, holding hands with younger kids (sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins … who knows?), and dodging the chickens, pigs, and dogs that are occasionally crossing their path. But the spirit and vitality of these poor people is always high. Every time I return they shower me with smiles and affection. That’s one of the reasons I keep coming back. 
Despite the September unrest in a handful of cities around Myanmar (most of the country remained unaffected by the demonstrations), monks continue to be an important and visible presence in the country. At some monasteries in Yangon and Mandalay, the numbers of monks has declined noticeably (one monastery in Mandalay that had over 2,500 monks at this time last year now has only 600), but at others there has been no change at all. You still see monks out on the streets collecting alms, riding buses, and watching street football matches. 
I had debated whether or not to visit my usual favorite monasteries when in Mandalay. But after talking to some locals and judging that things seemed calm, I stopped in several places during my bike trips around town. Some monasteries have stopped accepting donations of food and money from the government, and now depend upon members of the community to sustain them. While in Mandalay, I was invited to a Kathein ceremony (in which robes are given to the monastery) at one of the monasteries, but I had to leave for Inle Lake the next day and couldn’t attend. 
While in Mingun I visited the local monastery, which is located behind the giant cracked Mingun Paya. This time the head monk was around, and he invited me in for tea. During my last visit he was out of town “on tour.” It seems he’s a bit of a traveler and frequently gives sermons around Myanmar and even in neighboring countries. During one of my visits he gave me a CD of sermons he had recorded. 
My favorite monastery is an old teakwood one in Nyaungshwe called Shwe Yan Pyay Kyaung. Besides being a very interesting looking building, the monastery is populated by a personable bunch of young novice monks. The best English speaker of the bunch, Te Kyu, was at another monastery, in Taunggyi, this time, but one of his sidekicks, Soe Win, was still around. 
I brought the monks some photos I’d take of them on my last visit, along with a bunch of airline flight magazines and some children’s books. One of the titles, “How Animals Talk,” proved to be a big hit. The monks are clearly fond of animals; they even keep a couple of cats for company at the monastery. 
During my first day in town, Soe Win suggested a walk around the neighborhood. The monastery is connected to a village of the same name, Shwe Yan Pyay, and bordered by a canal on one side. With green mountains in the distance, it’s a most picturesque spot. The novice monks turned out to be real hams, repeatedly requesting that I take their photo in various poses. 
On my second day in town I went by the morning market in Nyaungshwe and bought 40 oranges to take the monks. There are 30 novice monks that stay at the monastery along with 7 senior monks who teach the lads Buddhist scripture and the Pali language. I arrived at around 11 a.m., when they were eating their last meal of the day. Soe Win greeted my outside, saying that he has already finished eating. I asked what I should do with the oranges, and he told me to take them into the dining room and put one on each monk’s plate. When I took the plastic bag full of oranges out of my backpack, the bag promptly ripped, spilling fruit onto the floor. I’ll just add that to my Top Ten list of most embarrassing incidents! One of the local girls who was assisting with lunch, helped me pick up the oranges, and I managed to give one to each monk without any further accidents.
Par Par Lay was released from his latest incarceration on October 30, and the Moustache Brothers have resumed evening shows at their home on 39th Street in Mandalay. The government prohibits them from performing in front of local audiences, so they now hold shows specifically for tourists: “demonstrations” of traditional Burmese song and dance forms, spiced with plenty of humor (Lu Maw is the master of ceremonies---and master of nearly every clichéd slang phrase you can think of: “She let me off the hook!”) and a bit of subtle political commentary. An 8,000 kyat (about $6.50) donation per person is requested. They also sell a variety of colorful Moustache Brothers t-shirts (I now own three styles!) for 5,000 kyat each. 
The show I saw this time was nearly identical to the one I attended last year, except that Lu Maw, the third “brother,” sat out for most of the performance. Besides the Brothers themselves, they recruit their wives and sisters-in-law to help spice up the shows with lively dancing and colorful costumes. 
There were only four tourists in attendance at this show: me, a Canadian woman (who had also been on my boat to Mingun earlier in the day), and two Belgian women. Lu Maw repeatedly tells audiences: “Put our photo on your blog and website. When tourists support us, we stay alive.” Consider it done, my brother.
Last week, while in Myanmar, I paid a visit to the Maing Thauk Orphanage, located near the eastern shore of Inle Lake. From Nyaungshwe, where I was staying, it was a one-hour bike ride; a trip that passed through a glorious rural tapestry of farmland, wooden houses, wooden monasteries, water buffaloes, and friendly locals. By the time I got the orphanage---the last half-mile required an uphill climb that forced me to jump off my back and push---I was starting to sweat, despite the cool temperatures (and at night it was damn cold!). 
Director U Tet Tun was back in Ngaungshwe, but I was greeted by some of his assistants (along with a chorus of "Hello" from the nearly 50 boys) and distributed badminton sets and cane balls used to play chinlon (a game similar to takraw) I had brought with me. My friend Walter (another American living in Bangkok) arrived shortly afterwards on motorcycle (he wisely chose not to pedal all the way), bringing some treats of his own for the kids. 
After I made my financial donation, I went back outside and took some photos of the boys. My mission next time will be to return with prints for each of them --- along with more sports equipment and books. The orphanages definitely need money so that they can feed and clothe the orphans, but little extras like badminton sets seem to really thrill these kids. 
Maing Thauk can also be visited as part of your Inle Lake boat trip. Some days of the week there is a lively floating market near the shore. Just tell whoever arranges your boat trip (usually your hotel or guesthouse) that you want to visit the orphanage (they actually have two separate buildings now: one for boys and one for girls), and they can show you the way. From the lakeshore, it’s about a 20-30 minute walk to the orphanages. 
This is Thwe Thwe Aye, the delightful head nurse --- actually, the only nurse --- at the Mingun Home for the Aged. This facility houses elderly residents, aged seventy and older, who have no family to take care of them. Currently the home has more than sixty residents, the oldest one going strong at 96. Thwe Thwe is the sole nursing professional at the home, but a doctor from nearby Mandalay (a 40-60 minute boat trip up or down the Ayeyarwady River) visits once per week. Thwe Thwe Aye says her biggest need is more medicine for the residents, particularly hypertension meds such as Amlodipin. She depends upon donations from tourists to purchase the vast majority of the meds she needs for the elderly residents. Sending items through the postal service, however, is not a reliable option. I promised Thwe Thwe Aye I would bring some meds from her wish list the next time I visit (probably in April or May). If anyone wishes to donate medicine or money to the Mingun Home for the Aged (located across the dirt road from the Mingun Bell ---the world’s largest “uncracked” bell!), you are welcome to send them to my attention at Dasa Book Café in Bangkok. 
This is Ethel. I never caught her last name. Believe it or not, she is a freelance tour guide in Yangon! A native of Yangon, Ethel has excellent English skills (her father was British). She is now in her early seventies. Most days you can find her on Mahabandoola Road, on the block just east of City Hall. Her favorite expression, popping up at least once every minute, is “blah blah blah.” I had planned on using her for a short tour of northern Yangon, but I couldn’t find her during my last day in town. On the day that I DID talk with her, Ethel proved to be a delightful and knowledgeable lady, possessing a playful wit. Even though I didn’t use her for any services that day, I gave her some money that she could use to buy food and medicine (she recently hurt her leg). 
This is Thant Zin, more commonly known as Mr. Pancake. He runs an English Language and Computer Training Center in the small town (more of a big village) of Mingun. Chances are, you will meet him when getting off the tourist boat from Mingun. He will invite you to visit the school, and of course hope that you will donate money or sponsor a student (I picked up the tab for three kids’ tuition this time). Thanks to recent donations from a Thai tour group, he was able to buy new computer equipment for the school and purchase more books. He hopes to get Internet service in 2008. You can contact him at: thantzin1977@gmail.com 
