A minor fall at Bagan in Myanmar, a dislocated wrist bone that is now put back in its place and eventually a cast o the right hand that is bound to stay there for 6 weeks is forcing me to keep this blog unattended for next 45 days. Nothing very serious or to be worried about. There are many stories to tell..See you again in late November.
One of the things that fascinated my most in Myanmar is the daily ritual of seeking alms by monks and nuns. No matter where you are in the morning hours, there is every chance that you will come across monks or nuns walking in a long line with a bowl, seeking alms. They do this with great discipline, rarely talking to each other and never breaking a line. Nuns especially, with their bright rose-coloured attire stand out distinctly on the streets.
I have been seeing the sights of Yangon, Myanmar, and am enjoying my first look at the country. One of the first things that I did after arriving was to take a local train that took me through the rural outskirts of Yangon City. The trains here are much older and much slower than what we see in India. While a local commuter would long for something newer and faster, for a visitor, they are like a living history.
The air in the coach is very casual and easygoing. Many traders use the train to ferry their goods into and out of market. Stuff that I saw entering into the train that day included this large load of Bananas, plenty of vegetables, bedding materials and a huge white sack of which I do not know the content. Conversations with strangers was easy to initiate and was much enjoyed despite constraints of language.
Food vendors also keep moving in and out too. On sale were beetle-nut to chew, groundnuts, quail eggs, grapes and fried snacks.
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