Deet the feet, Mandalay

Rice, noodle, rice, noodle, rice noodles, rice, noodle, rice.

Chicken, pork, chicken, pork, chicken, pork, chicken, pork, chicken

Chilli sauce, sticky sauce, chilli sauce, sticky sauce, chilli sauce, sticky sauce, chilli sauce

There are a few combinations to be had but it starts to lack variety especially when breakfast is the same choice. We've missed the curries of the southern parts of the country and beef has all but disappeared from the menu which turned more Chinese in the Shan state, now in Mandalay we're hoping for some new things to try.  A steak restaurant just four blocks from our hotel is irresistible. 

It's dark early here and sunset is fast, in fifteen minutes the streets are the switched into complete darkness, barely illuminated mopeds stream past like angry wasps. We're walking with a torch but quickly run out of pavement, three blocks to go and a black police car crawls past us, we're not doing anything wrong but I'm never sure if there isn't an obscure law along the lines of jaywalking that we may have unknowingly crossed and it's a little uncomfortable for a few long seconds. I've since checked and we were perfectly OK to be there so I think they just happened to be passing by. 

Next night we stop off a block nearer the hotel (this part of Mandalay near the perfectly 2km square old fort is laid out like a New York grid) at a almost beach front bar but without the beach - these are the first such establishments we've found, little more than a covered bar with music (and beer) and some nods to the west on the menu. It's basic and easygoing but the clientele is far older than it should be, in fact most of the visitors we've seen in Myanmar are coach loads of French and American pensioners, occasionally some Germans all much older than us. A coach load of anyone ruins a restaurant especially when you're looking for something a bit authentic: There are too many readers of Lonely Planet these days!

Mandalay is a likeable place, it's the first place we've found a nightlife, the roof of our hotel is a bar / restaurant and it's a decent escape from the town but after a while, despite the ice cold drinks I have developed a cough and actually it smells like car exhausts up here. Mandalay lies on a fault line has frequent earthquakes, we fortunately missed the last one by a week but it means the buildings tend to stop at 4 storeys. Locals claim the fog is blowing in from China but we're some way from the border and it's actually quite strong, that mist that envelopes the city each evening and ruins the sunset photos has to be more local.

Sunsets are a big deal for whichever guide we hire, it's becoming a running joke. 5.30 we'll be perched somewhere beautiful for sunset then rushed back to the hotel at 5.45 when its all over. They are losing the attraction but it's that time of day in Mandalay and this time we're by the longest wooden bridge in Myanmar, the silhouette at least offers a change in the photos composition:

Mandalay is not pretty but it is friendly and has enough background business to suggest it is actually the cultural centre of the country, rather than the high rises that are springing up in Yangon. 

It has an energy to it, a little local pride and many traditional skills from slipper making to intricate Buddha marble carving, clay pot making, silver smithing and most importantly gold leaf production...  

This is hard graft, the guys beat the slices of 24carat gold to the thinest wafer possible so that the country can apply it to Buddha images, 6 hours a day with the hammers. I cannot stress how critical applying gold leaf to Bhudda image is.

Bhudda image is everywhere across Myanmar and affixing gold leaf to the image is a key part of the worship. The leaf, having being hammered to into the thinest skin you can imagine, is delicately applied by all to the Buddha of their choosing, many of the popular ones are starting to look 'warty' from so many choosing the same square inch to apply their leaf.

The temples and monastery's in Mandalay are a bit better looked after than those we've seen so far, the floor tiles actually look like they all came from the same decade instead of being leftovers from multiple 1980s kitchen refurbs. Anyone can update a site through donation and say how they would like to update it, and I think this lack of an owner for what can be done and what should be vetoed accounts for a lot of the questionable "upgrades". Buddha with neon flashing lights is a favourite but maybe someone should just be able to say, um hang on a minute... Does this look a bit shit? I do like that anyone can keep improving the site, that the pagoda is not sacred or untouchable by the masses but in my opinion not every update is an improvement.

On the day I added gilded gold leaf to Buddha's backside a family was also celebrating the inauguration of their youngest to the Monastery he's heavily donned in make up and in an outfit, the photos of which will haunt his adult life and he is embarking on a big adventure as a novice monk, he will return home once a week (in his white robes) before joining full time at the age of 7, like boarding school but with a weeks leave just once a year. 

So why be a monk? The monks have no possessions, are humble and must accept any donation that might be afforded - usually rice, curry or small denominations of cash, all the food is then shared within the monastery at feeding time - 10am. Mealtime is very serious, more generous donors can attend to handout the monks food in person and these donors come from all over the world, when we are at the monastery Nuns from Korea hand out 1000 "jacks" to each monk (slightly less than $1). A monks life looks a difficult one but it is privileged: They each have an excellent state funded education, free accommodation, food and water, and are respected in society. They learn English and go on to have degrees in Buddhism at the age of 21. In fact state schooling across Myanmar is focussed on literacy and most the younger population speak English very well, they'll come talk to you just to practise. Its a little unnerving as (sadly) you suspect you're being buttered up for a sale but it is just a friendliness to which the West has forgotten how to offer or accept.

Donations to Buddha are on a scale you simply cannot imagine from a population which by all measures lives in extreme poverty, it's astonishing. They are the recorded as the most generous people on earth. Half a million of them live across this country safeguarding the purest form of Buddhism. Forget the pot bellied laughing Chinese Buddha that we are used to nothing here, the Buddha we see is immaculate and regal, maybe slightly feminine but is always heavily donated to. 

The Buddha image (always 3 dimensional) sits in a pagoda, the site of which is at the wish of the donator, where he may have made a decision, been lucky, found a ruby or proposed to his wife: the site itself is not religious, just important to the donor and hence you find pagoda scattered across this land. This is why Myanmar viewed from space must look like a stretch of green covered in gold sprinkles. 

Buddha isn't a god you pray to, it's where you go to contemplate your problems, seek advice. Buddha isn't an all seeing Creator that judges and Nibbana isn't a place. There is no concept of a paradise filled with virgins or a seat in the heavenly ever after there are just five simple rules to live your life by (sadly the last one is not to take alcohol, because you'd be more likely to break one of the previous four) but stick to these and look to do good deeds to your fellow humans and you could traverse through the reincarnations to be the fifth and final Buddha.

On the drive here we passed many Teak plantations, a teak tree takes around 150 years to reach its best, it's most valuable. The government has been frantically replanting the trees to catch up with the rate at which they have been disappearing. They are extremely rare in the wild but this shows some long term planning, a century long investment before they are in peak condition to harvest. Copying the harvesting plan from colonial times trees are densely planted and then thinned out every 30 years or so thus allowing the remaining trees more space to grow into whilst providing ongoing cash to keep the project rolling. It all looks rather promising and rather contrary to the messages we get about teak.

 

There are two huge ageing teak constructions, the Bagaya monastery and the old fort and the old palace (from where King met the British who arrived in 1824) each are both very impressive, exhibiting beautiful awnings and carvings. 

There isn't a free press here but the front pages are full of the Premier league game tonight, Liverpool v Manchester United. I do love how football crosses all cultures and people, how you can "talk" about a game with a total stranger with no common language just through expression, player names and grunts (though I think they prefer to bet - illegally - on football rather than follow a specific team.) In a beer garden later and not a garden at all, we watch the match. It's a man palace, there must be 150 here, Alexa is the only girl, plastic garden furniture tables and chairs spread across the open sided "bar", attended by very young staff bring beer from tap to table which are also look to be furnished with a bottle of local whiskey much of which is sent flying when Rooney scores. (We never found a place where the girls go to spend an evening.)

Sunset by the worlds longest (1.2 km, 200 yr old) U Bein Teak wooden bridge , it's dry season do the timbers reveal their lower lengths and they aren't in good condition. None the less, many crowd the bridge as catching the sunset here is popular. We're in a warmer area of the country and that means mosquitos though they aren't so prevalent at this time of year it still means the ritual of suntan lotion, then a good squirt of deet is needed before venturing out, my tip is never forget to deet the feet, mine are coated 96% of the carcinogen and nothing so nothing has dreamt of landing on me.

We're heading further West tomorrow down the Ayeyarwady river towards India where the influences are different and the landscape turns more Jungle book.