The next morning, my taxi driver Aung Sann picked me up at 5:30am to go watch the sunrise on Shwesandaw Paya. It seemed like the entire village was out along the main road exercising! Walking, running, doing calisthenics. I guess when the oppressive heats hits around 7:30am, you get up at the crack to get moving.
As I climbed up the paya barefoot, I held onto the thin metal pipe – also known as the hand rail – for dear life. The crumbly brick steps went straight up. Honestly, don’t look down.
I prayed my way to the top and the view was spectacular. The morning light was perfect. A photographers dream. But I couldn’t capture the landscape to do it justice and a few hundred photos later, I gave up.
Maybe part of travel is being there. There’s a travel show on PBS that has a tagline something along the lines of “traveling, so you don’t have to.” What?
It seems a photograph or a travel show should just give you a hint of what you’ll find so you DO go.
My photos don’t capture the smell of jasmine that floated about, occasionally overpowering the diesel fumes. Or the feeling of having thanaka cool your face under the waves of heat. Or the quiet because you are in the middle of nowhere. My photos don’t capture the joy I felt standing high above the plain. I had to be there in person and I had to be present to take it all in.
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Later that evening before sunset, Aung Sann’s brother – also a local taxi driver -– picked me up. We drove a short way from the hotel to a tourist-topped pagoda called Buledi. Off in the distance, ominous clouds loomed and lightning started to flash. You could see the rain sheeting down. I didn’t actually see the sun set as it was obscured by the incoming clouds.
The rainy season decided to start at that moment.
Big, fat rain drops. We were soaked in minutes. Everyone stuffed their cameras under their shirts. There I was on top of a steep brick pyramid. With a narrow walking ledge. No safety rails here.
The staff at the hotel told me when I got back that it’s good luck to be soaked in the first rain of the season. First rain on top of a pagoda? Double luck for sure.
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