Rick Rozelle, one of my best friends, died over the weekend. Needless to say, I’m greatly saddened by his passing. I’m going to miss his companionship, intelligence, humor, and kindness.
I met Rick back in 1995, on a Northwest Airways flight from Los Angeles to Bangkok. At the time, he was living in Houston and I was living in Orlando. We both ended up moving to Bangkok the following year: I made the move in March and he crossed the ocean in May. We remained good friends over the years, taking occasional trips to various places around Thailand, as well as to Laos and Cambodia. Rick was one of the few people who shopped at my bookshops in both Siem Reap and Bangkok. Another thing I’ll miss about Rick is trading book tips with him. We were always turning each other on to new authors we had discovered.
In June of 2005 he suffered severe head injuries and was hospitalized in Bangkok for the most of the following year. He never fully recovered, and it was never clear if he remembered his friends when we visited him in the hospital. Later, after arrangements were made, he was transferred to a series of facilities back in his home state of Texas. The only consolation to his passing is that he was with his family at the time. Rick, you will be missed by many!
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I wouldn’t have minded going straight to Siem Reap, but that would have meant either taking the tiring road trip (and dealing with border hassles in Poipet) or taking the expensive flight (Bangkok Airways has the monopoly on that route from Bangkok, and it’s priced accordingly). So, I’ll take the cheap Air Asia flight to Phnom Penh, meet my “Gang of Four” (the brothers I know that live on the outskirts of Phnom Penh: Huot, Han, Channo, Bo), and take them along for the ride to Siem Reap (and hoping they don’t puke the entire way; three of the four usually get car sick). In the past week, everyone has checked in via phone calls, e-mails, and even text messages, so they all know I’m coming. I’m looking forward to seeing them all again. 
I experienced what was akin to a living nightmare this week: walking down Soi Nana. This is probably the closest thing Bangkok has to a human zoo. No, I wasn’t going go-go barhopping; a friend of mine lives in a condo halfway down Soi Nana, and since I’m a vehicle-less fellow, I walked to her place. In doing so, I had to pass the bewildering blur of bars, massage joints, bunches of scary looking tourists, and scores of painted ladies. Needless to say, there were no church groups from Iowa in the mix (unless they were backstage at one of the go-go bars). 
I’ve added some links to my list of “Favorites” on this page. One of them is “Crawling from America,” a blog from Charles Martin, an ex-Orlando friend who recently moved to Canada. His observations about the differences in living in the two countries are very illuminating. In one of his recent posts he also mentions Brian Maguire, an Orlando resident who is now hospitalized after a pretty bad motorcycle accident. I have fond memories of Brian; he’s one of those good guys that always has a smile on his face and never a bad word to say about anyone. And he’s a good drummer, too. Brian has been a member of several Orlando bands over the years. He scored bonus points on my scorecard one year when he gave me an advance tape of a new Reivers album (a fantastic band from Austin, Texas that recorded several fabulous but sorely underrated albums in the late 80s and early 90s). Their Translate Slowly album (originally released by Atlanta’s DB Records when the band was called Zeitgeist) is an absolute classic in my opinion. Meanwhile, here’s hoping that Brian has a complete recovery from his accident and is back behind his drum set again soon. www.thereivers.net
Reina Collins, another friend and ex-Orlando resident has a new album out: Austin to Boston. Reina and I grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same high school, although two years apart. But she fled “the city beautiful” long before I did, moving first to St. Petersburg, and then on to Boston, and eventually way out west, to Idaho. Reina is now based in Portland, Oregon, where she performs regularly in area clubs. I may be biased, but I think Reina’s albums are great. Her melodic voice is strong and striking, able to effortlessly sing a variety of material, blending together bits of country, rock, blues, and folk. She calls herself a “roots rockin’ songstress” and that’s a pretty apt description of her style. The new album highlights Reina’s original material, along with heartfelt covers of songs by Joni Mitchell, World Party, and Richard Thompson. Excellent stuff! See the link on this page for her website. 
Here are some of the other books that I recently finished, or am in the middle of reading. It seems like a bunch at first glance, but then I remember that growing stack of books at home, and I realize that it's nothing compared to what I need to read. Generally, I have three, or more, books going at the same time: one at work, one at home, and one tucked away in my shoulder bag. 
Richard Russo – Bridge of Sighs
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.
