The old downtown of Yangon is the
place to soak up the authentic atmosphere of the city with its long, narrow and
perpendicular streets loosing yourself in the constant buzz, deliberate chaos, various
smells, a multitude of colours, strange noises and a mixture of architecture.
The old downtown I describe here
is not made up only of the big boulevards like the Pansodan road or the Strand
avenue, and for me experiencing the area does not mean to circle the Independence
square or to walk from the Bogyoke market to the Sule pagoda.
My 'downtown' is made up of the
long, narrow perpendicular and numerically numbered streets with a well
organised structure that is easy to remember, reminiscent of the old colonial
past, which unfolds to the south of Bogyoke market until the Strand road.
It is not enough to just take a brief
glance of downtown if you call yourself a temporary inhabitant of the city. Even
as a tourist, it would not qualify as sufficient, especially when you have more
than one day set aside to visit the city. You have enough time. The downtown
wakes up early and goes to sleep, at least on some streets, quite late. Soak in
the atmosphere for at least half a day. The impressions, believe me, will be
strong and will stay with you forever.
I strolled through these streets
numerous times for long hours. With each new walk I discovered another
eye-catching building, a different shop, an interesting craft on display on the
sidewalk, or a local curiosity. I met all kinds of people. These daily
encounters of people and things pleasantly surprised or suddenly saddened me
but I learned to appreciate each of them as events which I only live and see
once. Every day is different and special in downtown Yangon.
In the early morning, when traffic
is absent, if you find yourself on a street from the lower block you can see all
the way to the upper block. The buildings seem connected by the thick network
of wires which supply the households with electricity. Birds are flying low, attracted by the street
market below. Around this time of the year the visibility is blurry. We are in
the middle of the dry season and the hot air is full of dust and exhaust.
Sometimes I would take a look in
between two rows of buildings. People store things or dry clothes in the
available space, on and in between garbage. You wonder whether the tenants are throwing
the garbage directly from their window? A few young men store huge bottles of
water for distribution in the area. You wonder whether any rats' excrements
remain on the bottles no matter how much you clean them before use?
One day I witnessed a fight
between a fat rat and a lady. The animal seemed dizzy, maybe from the heat, and
did not manage to escape the hits from the expertly handled broomstick.
The smells follow you all the
time and for the most part they are not pleasant. An advice for the sensitive
visitor is to bring a perfumed scarf and keep it handy when passing, for
example, open sewers which are usually covered by slabs of concrete which serve
as a the sidewalk for pedestrians. However due to the often unstable and loose
slabs, pedestrians usually prefer to walk on the street. The road thus becomes the
crowded place where you squeeze in between cars, tea shops, trishaws, dogs and
all kind of objects stored randomly and waiting to be transported.
Some of the downtown's buildings
serve as warehouses for the multitude of goods shipped in the port of Yangon. Like
in old times, the Chinese and Indian locals are the merchants of the city with
shops opened on the ground floor of virtually every house. You will be surprised
by the vast array of wares that are sold from fabrics to plastic toys, from
sailing ropes to gold jewelleries offered by the Chinese merchants, from tons
of glassware to all kinds of tools on display on improvised tables on the
streets.
The colours of these streets are
vibrant because of the many markets which sell fruits, vegetables and flowers in
skilful arrangements, tea shops with trays of food that makes your mouth water,
colourful longyis worn by local ladies, and if you remember to look up, the long
string of clothes put out to dry hanging from most windows.
But, truth be told, it so happens
that the tourist will most of the time forget to look up being also distracted
by the candid smiles of the locals and the calls they shout to catch your
attention to the wares they are selling.
This is unfortunate because they
miss out on the beautiful old colonial buildings which are made out of wood or
bricks, building materials which show the passage of time. Some were built at
the beginning of the 20th century by the British settlers or the Indian
merchants. In some streets, like the 18th street, lower part, you can witness
an entire row of wooden houses with panels stretching from the floor to the
ceiling which protect the interior from the sun. What a strange feeling if you
arrive early enough to be almost alone in the middle of these structures that
are waiting to be admired on both sides of the street! It is like going back in
time or being part of a movie which is set in the old colonial times with
houses of wealthy Indian traders selling timber, their lodgings close enough to
their teak warehouses located on the Yangon river waiting for the ships to trade
the precious wood in countries far away from Burma.
For me the heart of the downtown is
represented by the locals. The people try to get along day by day, determined
and with a positive attitude. They always have a smile ready for you. Still they
work hard, rush along, sell and buy groceries, repair things you would never
think exist anymore, cook on charcoal cook stoves, sip tea at the tea shops,
read the newspaper, gaze around bored or curious, and take a nap in the shadow.
I am fascinated by the number of locals
that read the newspapers. Everywhere, every time. I tend to forget I am in a
country which recently opened itself to democracy and this is a feature of the
transition. There are dozens of different newspapers and these are sold at
every corner. People are thirsty for information. I like it when
I see people reading on the streets. I keep a wide collection of photographs on
this topic.
People seem optimistic and the
least fortunate take it in a positive way. Actually I am not sure the woman who
was searching amongst the garbage with her child was aware of the meaning of
the words written on her t-shirt.
I am aware that the city is
developing in a way which is very characteristic for South-East Asia. I refer
to the many stories about Myanmar's fast economic development that receive a
lot of coverage in today's local and international media. If some would argue
that you are already coming too late to witness a city frozen in time I would argue
that now is actually the best time to experience the fast change while also
learning about the unique traditions which are still preserved by the
communities.
The mobile phone market has confirmed
its huge popularity and affordability for all the social classes of the population.
Everybody is connected and everybody checks his smart phone every few seconds. The
other day I noticed a tourist, an old lady, watching two little children
playing on a couple of mobile phones. She
looked amazed, probably she would have expected to find them playing hide and
seek around their parents' teashop in downtown but she was indeed a year or so
too late for that already.
People start to dress smartly or to
develop their own fashion style. Boys wear funky hairstyles. Young people are
eager to learn and try everything new.
Relatively new housing projects, a
kitsch of tiles and glass with an array of ornaments, squeeze in between old
buildings. These are still modest and date back to a few years ago. However new
ones are popping up like mushrooms after the rain in this new economic boom. I
was taken aback by the way these huge apartment buildings change the landscape
of downtown. It is still sad to notice children working on construction sites.
During my walks, I also realised how many children are left playing alone on
the streets and thus are not attending school. I will not mention the many ones
helping to serve customers in tea shops.
A walk in downtown Yangon will
take you emotionally through the whole range of feelings one can experience. For
me this neighbourhood remains my favourite part of the city, a place full of colours and contrasts, where
I love to wander, to discover and to interact with the kind locals. The
community embraces everybody. They even have patience with me and my camera.
Hello! Mingalabar! I hear often. Where are you from? I am asked sometimes. I
smile. I feel like in a big family when in downtown.
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