Mandalay

the ancient cities of Mandalay lay beyond Rangoon, an 18 hour bus ride, to be exact. The bus was

surprisingly comfortable (it was a Japanese school bus equipped with a scratchy sound system that blasted

both Indian music AND a kitschy drama where busy Indian girls pranced around enticing chubby Indian

guys to go behind the trees) i was able to sleep and throughout the night we passed huge pagoda

that were lit up in the moonlight in eerie spleandor.... a few candles flickered in alcoves and I saw a

few monks keeping watch... The bus was snoring away and fast asleep as if drugged, and I was the only one watching the horrific indian

movie!!! We arrived in Mandalay and the city is huge, it is laid out on a grid and names like G street and 129 Avenue

are quite bizarre but easy to get around. The Mandalay hill looks over ANOTHER Novotel complex (full of French package tourists)

and the remains of the royal palace. To get around, it was easier to get a horsedrawn cart for the large distances were

not easy to navigate in the 100 degree heat! My guesthouse overlooked another monastery and during the day hundreds of young novice

monks squatted in the dusk getting instruction, while a huge temple bell was struck that vibrated in your chest....

After catching some sleep, I walked up to Mandalay hill where I hiked to the top with some Isreali exsoldiers (Three were women)

who were using the $ they got for completing the Army to travel for 6 months. One was fluent in Japanese and was travelling

with his friends before heading back to Tokyo to sell more paintings and Balinese jewelry. We reached the top in the dazzling heat and walked up further

and further away from the temple at the top (monkeys roamed around scrounging bits of bread and even drank out of bottles) we found a

valley, totally cut off from the surrounding town, (after 2 hours of walking) that was a monastery. Two dozen monks with shaved heads

lived there and were extremely friendly. We shared some tea with them before heading back to the top of Mandalay hill for the sunset...

it was amazing and the smoke from the fires was so thick that the sun just disapeared into the purple haze.... we sat on top of the hill

with about 10 Burmese families (1/2 of whom were military personnel) and who had, earlier in the day, stuffed dozens of Kyats into collection

boxes at the Pagoda (All over Burma, I saw more money stuffed in these large plastic boxes than anywhere else; Burmese are very religious and

donate huge sums of money to renovate temples; thousands paid for the Schwedeagon pagoda in Rangoon; but when a new pagoda was built by the military

regime, no one put up the money to pay for the gold)as the sun sank into the murky smoke the Israelis said they were going to see the Madalay Marionettes

and I joined them.

The Mandalay Marionettes were put on by artists who had been arrested, imprisoned and even tortured for being just artists. It was an eye opening show. The first 1/2 was performed

in a room that faced the street. Across the street were 5 plainclothes police, keeping an eye on things. Once the 1/2 hour show was completed, we moved into an inner

room, where the artists recounted their stories of torture. All had been improsoned, and told their love for Aung San Sun Kyi, the democracy leader. It didnt last long, as

the artists were under constant surveillance. It was a very interesting experience and explained the regime under which Burmese live; the English language daily is

full or derogatory comments about Suu Kyi, her British husband, and denounded the BBC and CNN repeatedly.

After the show, we went to the local hotspot, Nylon Cafe. It was a cafe serving ice cream make with goats milk (not bad) that attracted the 'fringe' of Mandalay

punk rockers, students, tour guides, foreign backpackers, and curious rickshaw drivers who were looking for rides back to guesthouses. We gobbled ice cream till past midnight before

walking home; there, in the middle of a vegetable market, was a British clocktower that had long since ceased chiming. It was one of the many monumnets all over Burma that the

British left behind. (Also, a very large Anglican looking church sat forlornly in a field in Rangoon)

The next morning, I caught a minibus out to the three ruined cities near Mandalay: Amarapura, Mingun, and Ava. It was a beautiful trip, as we took a horsedrawn cart around Ava. Rice fields rustled in the wind, and village children walked to school as we

clopped along the rocky road. At one point we tried to pass another cart, and before we knew it, the cart was tipping over, the driver had jumped off,

and the next thing we knew we were tumbling down the side of a hill, straight for the river! Luckily, it dint go far although we were all flung out og the cart into the dirt

and except for some scratches we were fine (The horse too) Eventually we came to several massive pagodas (Also stuffed with money) and lastly, to the U Bein bridge, a huge

teak bridge built over a long lake. It was sunset, and the dusk was blurred by the smoke from the burning rice fields, and we sat on the creaking structure watching soldiers,

students, fishermen, and women walk home across the span (Many planks were missing, 30 feet to the ground!) we then drove back to Mandalay choking on fumes from the gas tanks they were bringing back into Mandalay to sell.

shaved head