Mandalay, Part 3

Jade Market
We hop out of our cab at a chaotic corner and head down a lane lined with tables laden with hunks of raw jade in various sizes and colors. Gradually, they shift to smaller fragments; flashlights shine into the stones to look for flaws. A row of spinning wheels captures our attention: on both sides of the narrow row, young men work treadles with bicycle pedals, turning the wheels they are using to shape and polish small pieces of jade.

We head inside the main market area, and it’s a chaotic crush of people, so we stick to the perimeter at first. There are restaurants, a few shops selling bracelets, and workshops with whirring belts. Venturing farther in, we find an area where jade bracelets are being examined, women with no-nonsense looks examining green circles with flashlights. Further on, the goods under scrutiny are small rounded gems, ready to be fitted into rings and bracelets. There are restaurants packed with people, pool tables, backgammon games, and lots of waiting around between transactions. It makes for a fascinating walk, but we have to be careful not to fall into the narrow gutters on the floor or step into any red betel spit, or get crushed in the busy crossroads.

Soon we are ready to leave the chaos and walk down the road to the quiet Shwe In Bin Kyaung Monastery, whose main hall is a stunning teak structure. It was serene and quiet, with monks going about their daily business and only a few other tourists about.  The exterior carvings have been work away by the elements, creating fascinating shapes.

This monastery was a perfect last stop on our tour of Mandalay. The next morning we rose before dawn and heading to the docks for our boat down the mighty Irawaddy, to the temples of Bagan. 

Mandalay, Part2

It’s a short hop across the river to the ancient capital of Ava, and when we approach the ferry dock we are immediately pounced on by adorable children selling jewelry. We trade names, complements, even jokes,* and I promise to buy necklaces only from them, when I want them upon my return. (Which, of course, I do).

*Girl 1: Where are you from?

Me: America. Where are you from?

Girls 1 and 2 (in unison): My mother!

(All): Laughing.

Across the river we meet another contingent of smiling young people; and one persistent teenage girl in particular, who trailed us on her bicycle as we bounced off down the dusty dirt road in our horse-drawn cart. We pass through a small village and out into an expanse of rice paddies and chickpea fields, stupas visible in the distance, horse hooves clopping in a steady cadence.

The main point of interest here is a wooden monastery, built entirely of teak and supported by massive tree trunks. the details are beautifully carved, the floorboards warping and full of holes, the main hall dim and dusty. In one corner, English=language signs hang on the wall, and small desks are scattered with notebooks filled with Burmese script and sketches: novice monks and village children receive free education here, and as our tour guide brings out a donation of school supplies from a previous visitor, small boys scamper into the room to receive their gifts, then disappear, laughing in the shadows.

At our lovely lunch place in the Sagaing hills, our sweet tour guide Nilar delicately applies the ever-present thanaka to our faces in a leaf design. We stop at two temples in the hills as the sun gains power, the first a ‘cave’ built into a hillside, and the second an important stop for many pilgrims, but also a place with a panoramic view of the stupa-dotted hillsides and the wide Irrawaddy river.

Our last stop for the day, across the river, is Mingun, which contains the beginnings of what would have been a very large stupa…. but alas, the king died while it was still only partially completed, and no one dared finish it…. so here it sits, large cracks running jaggedly through it as a result of earthquakes; the remains of two large lions guarding the entrance.

Mingun is also home to the world’s largest working bell (as opposed the the much larger, but decidedly broken, bell I recently saw in Moscow). It’s riddled with etching and graffiti on the inside, where we stand and listen as people outside ring it with sturdy wooden sticks.

We have one more stop for the day, and just as I am thinking I am too tired to handle anymore, we emerge from the backstreets of the village to see a giant white wedding-cake of a building, stark white against the blue sky. Seven wavy seas form the bottom layers, broken by statues in small nooks. The middle level is lined with dancing carvings and flower-draped figures, and the Buddha is enshrined at the top of a set of steep stone steps. Many of the statues are broken, leaning, missing, and it gives the place an intriguing impression in the golden light of late afternoon.

Mandalay, Part1

Mandalay is a former royal capital and cultural center, and we spent three days exploring….

Mandalay Hill overlooks the city;  and we reach it via a shady walk along the east side of the ancient palace and its surrounding moat.  We find find a set of stairs and head up, shoes in hand, stones cool under our feet. Other than a few young couples climbing hand-in-hand,  we have the hill to ourselves. Benches with inscriptions line the covered stairway; at intervals we encounter mezzanines, empty but for buddhas and sparkling pillars covered in glass mosaics. A few sleepy shopkeepers sit behind mostly empty shelves, and a few homes set up – a square marked by cabinets of dishes and the low concrete walls. “Glamour Shot” locations, gaudy with hearts and bright colors, waterfalls, pools, swans, and benches – perfect for family portraits or a lovey-dovey picture with your significant other. Near the summit, a large Buddha statue points his golden arm towards the palace – legend has it he predicted the emergence of a great kingdom while looking down from this very hill.

Visible from the top of the hill is a sea of small white structures, which is Kuthodaw Pagoda. Each of the 729 structures houses a slab of marble with inscriptions of sacred text, and together they form the world’s largest book. Golden ornaments on the rooftops flutter in the breeze and fill the air with bursts of sweet sound, as I wander the rows of marble, flitting in and out of the shadows, watched over by carved figures. In the center is   large stupa, it’s gold catching the sun’s rays and reflecting its heat.

The U-Bein bridge is south in Amapura, and we head there for the recommended sunset viewing. And we are not the only ones. This 1.2-kilometer teak bridge spans across the still waters of a lake, and is traversed by tourists, locals, and monks.  It makes a brief stop on an island in the middle, where restaurants have plastic chairs positioned for sunset views, farmers plow with oxen in the field, and fisherman bring their catch ashore. Boys beat the water with long bamboo canes, while the others move the net closer; moving ashore with their longyis bulging with the catch. Boats with brightly-colored hulls ply the water, increasing exponentially as sunset nears. Our driver takes us around the bridge before jockeying for prime position to view the sun go down, casting the bridge and the people on it into silhouette.

In the gold-pounding district, heavy droplets  of gold are pounded multiple times into impossibly thin sheets, the heavy ‘thwack’ of hammers resounding through the workshop we visit. Each round is longer than before, and the time is measured using an old-fashioned method of a bobbing ladle with a hole in the bottom, which sinks slowly beneath the surface of the water. The finished leaf is sliced meticulously into squares. These are bought by the faithful to place upon a buddha statue (or have a monk place it on). Later we see a statue that has been so covered by these these offerings that it’s original shape is lost under golden knobs.

On the stone-carvers street, the air is full of white dust, and there are jumbles of Buddhas in all stages of creation. Many are faceless, as this is the last thing to be carved, and the finished versions are often painted white after being polished to a sheen.