Shwedagon is the place to see and be seen. It reminded me of the Italian passeggiata – an evening stroll by residents through town. The same happens at this very holy site. There was such an amazing mix of people there – local families, devout Buddhists making offerings, tourists, young people hanging out, monks. It was quite lovely to see this jumble of people interacting peacefully.
I arrived around 4pm, and my feet certainly didn’t appreciate that. Like any Buddhist temple, you remove your shoes and socks before a toe touches the site. Normally I would have no problem with this, but it was about 98 degrees.
Sunshine beating down on the marble-covered ground all day. It was like hot bricks on the bottom of a pizza oven. I think I thoroughly burned the bottoms of my feet walking around.
After circling the paya clockwise three times – the site is huge and I found a new area to explore each time – I took a seat for some people watching.
Not a minute later, a young monk stepped up and asked if he could sit next to me. He said he wanted to practice his English – which wasn’t bad at all. I was told that many young men become monks because it’s an honor for the family, but is also the only way for their sons to get an education, as they wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise. The young monk wanted to know where I was from, why I was there, if I had met Obama – of course. He thought it was hysterical that he had seen Obama in person when he spoke in Yangon, and I had never actually seen him. The young monk was like, “Bwa-ha!! I even have pictures of him!”
As night falls, Shwedagon starts to glitter and the crowds grow larger. Colored lights sparkle around the heads of many of the Buddhas, and spotlights aim towards the paya. A technicolor light show! It was a beautiful, peaceful spot in such a chaotic city – just what I needed after a crazy morning of taxis and traffic.
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