You don’t have to go very far to find a Buddhist site of one kind or another in Yangon. While the iconic Shwedagon Paya looks down on the city from its hilltop, at street level there are countless pagodas, monasteries and shrines in various sizes and states of repair. This slightly ramshackle monastery was just across the street from my hotel, and if I was better at keeping notes while I travel, I’d be able to tell you its name.
In a few weeks, I’m heading back to Myanmar, this time for just over a month. I’m looking forward to seeing parts of the country that I didn’t have time to explore earlier in the year, but I’m also really excited about spending time in Yangon again. Although I spent a fair amount of time there on my first trip, I feel that there’s a lot more still to see and experience.
Thinking about my return trip has made me look again through the pictures from my first visit, and I found quite a few that I liked, but which I hadn’t posted before – so I thought it was time for a third and final installment in my Streets of Yangon series. These pictures were all taken in Yangon in February and March of this year.
Some images of Yangon’s beautiful Shwedagon Paya at nightfall. These were taken back in February during a three week trip to Myanmar. I was so taken in by Yangon’s people and streetlife that in my earlier posts I neglected to include any pictures of the city’s most iconic sight.
Yangon is famous for its pagodas, and they are certainly numerous and impressive, but it’s the life of the streets, alleyways and markets which most inspired me.
Yangon quickly became one of my favourite places. I spent days wandering around the streets, especially the tight grid of narrow alleyways that make up the downtown area. The city has such a mixture of cultures, with influences from all over south-east Asia, sub-continental India and China all very much in evidence. In the space of a couple blocks, you can find a Chinese pagoda, a mosque, a Hindu temple and a Baptist church. You can have dim sum for lunch and chicken biryani for dinner. Brand new hotels and office blocks sit opposite derelict colonial era buildings. The city is full of life and energy, but is also very welcoming. Everywhere I went, I met people who were friendly, interesting and curious.
I met the banjo playing gentleman below on my first morning in the city. I heard him before I saw him, the sound of his Chinese folk tunes carrying across the street. He was playing and singing to himself on his front porch, and I crouched down to take a few pictures. As I was taking my first few shots, his wife came out of the house, tapped me on the shoulder, handed me a plastic stool to sit on, and wordlessly went back inside. This was the first of a number of small kindnesses I experienced in Myanmar. I chatted to the banjo player for a little while; once he found out that I was British, he started playing Christmas songs and hits from the 60s.
Women – and to a lesser extent men – wearing thanaka, a paste made from ground bark, are a common sight throughout Myanmar.
Chewing betel – leaving blood red stains on the teeth – is a common habit in Myanmar. This man is preparing betel leaves and nuts for sale.
Two by two, in the pagodas and on the streets of Yangon.
Welcoming in the year of the goat in Yangon’s Chinatown.
Without an H 