Dirty. Chaotic. And somehow still sleepy, Yangon is not what I'd expect for a capital, even though I had 0 expectations before coming. And on top of that, I had 0 expectations for Myanmar. And what I learned is that Myanmar is an odd country. Well, not odd I suppose. But a weird mix blending East Asia with Middle East Asia. The people, food, and city are like a Venn Diagram of Chinese, Thai, and Indians. But on top of it, everyone has that Laotian kindness I miss so much. And to add a further spin to it, there's a dash of British culture for good measure - good for me, as they saw fit to use English. It's a strange crossing of cultures, set in a city that looks hundreds of years old, but is a sea of construction now that international sanctions have been lifted. Thanks, Obama.

And it's a country nobody knows much about, and maybe you don't either. Because the picture at the beginning of the blog isn't Myanmar, this is Myanmar.

A former British colony, after independence Myanmar, at the time called Burma, was ruled by a military junta up until a few years ago. Now, a prominent democratic activist has been released, open elections have occurred, and while the military is on the way out, their influence is still felt. It's almost like a child who got a new babysitter. They're not sure what they can get away with yet, so they keep trying stuff and see what works. Also with tourists now allowed into the country, it seems like they're trying to assemble a tourist industry from string and duct tape. There simply weren't and still aren't hotels to deal with the load. And the military hasn't completely loosened their grip, with only certain hotels being able to host foreigners. This leads to high hotel prices, but at least everything else is cheap enough to make up for it. And most of the time, the locals just don't know what to do with you. "What do they eat? What do they want to do? We don't know!" Most interesting tourist attractions have hastily written English signs, of course at much higher prices than the locals pay.

I arrived at Yangon around lunchtime, and shared a taxi into the city with 3 others. On the way in I saw a massive church which is an odd sight in Asia. So after getting settled, I set out to see it. It was a large cathedral, and oddly enough named St. Mary's. Pretty place, and probably an unexpected destination for a foreigner, because people kept staring at me. After, I had a sugar cane juice on the sidewalk and saw some kids with some face paint stuff. I've heard about it, it's some sort of traditional thing. Mostly girls wear it, but it's a sunblock, clears acne, and probably washes your car if you ask the manufacturer. It's probably like those scented bottles Thais carry around - useless, but whatever makes you feel better.

After I went into the city to Sule Pagoda. A big temple, it cost 3000 kyat ($3) for foreigners. It was fine, it's a wat. I also went to the park across the street to see a big statue thing. After walking outside and waiting to cross the street, some old guy asked "Where are you from?" I said America, and he replied "In Myanmar, you must learn to pray." I said "Oh, why is that?" "Because you must cross the street." I will admit the traffic is quite harrowing here. They drive very fast, and all rules are optional. Maybe there's a lot of new drivers with the sudden economic boom, because they all behave like they just got a new toy with nothing to lose. Ah well, when in Asia.

I finished my the religious tour with a jaunt to the Sri Kali Hindu temple. And with that it was off to Chinatown. I met my cab sharing buddy from earlier, with no help from the hostel's reception. The time passed we were supposed to meet, so I asked if she could pass a message. She said no. Then a guest said he was upstairs. I asked if I could go and get him. She said no. I asked if she could go tell him I'm here. She said no. I asked if I could write a note, and you leave it to on his bed. Again no. Well okay then. Later I was eating a delicious plate of noodles, and drinking on the road and he saw me. 60 cent beers, 80 cent cocktails. Oh, Myanmar. In Chinatown I could communicate for once, which was a nice change.

Next day, new friends Christine, Dave, and I shared a taxi to Chauk That Gyi. A 15 minute taxi turned into an hour one, though. The driver started going in not quite the right direction, and I thought "Well, maybe its a 1 way road, or traffic, or something." I asked if he's sure this is the right way, he waved me off. I asked again at another intersection, and then he turned in the complete opposite direction. Finally I shouted no, and guided him with the GPS. He finally realized where we wanted to go about 100 meters away from the temple, but just like Laos, didn't try to charge us more. Yay, friendliness! Anyway, move over, Wat Pho. This was the biggest godamn Buddha I've seen. I thought I've seen every possible Buddha. Nope. This one was the size of a jet, although the building wasn't pretty. They also had drawings of dreams, and their meanings. They were super specific, like "If you dream of a jackal peeing into a gem encrusted cup, that means your king will lower taxes." I was thinking "No time in however many hundreds of years this temple has existed was this advice applicable."

Someone at the hostel told us of this amazing pizza place (one of the best of his life apparently), and we were close to it, so we decided to go. We got a half prosciutto and half chicken pizza, and random hostel guy wasn't lying. At $20 split 3 ways, it's the most I've paid for a meal in a while, but it was one of, or very likely the best pizza I've had in my life. Who knew, Yangon knows how to make an amazing pizza. Everything was spot on, and I can't say enough good things about it. Get your shit together, rest of Asia. Some poor little country where there's hardly internet, and people live on a $1 per day can whip up an amazing pizza. What's your excuse?

After it was off to the park, where we saw some pretty bridges and fountains. My travel companions still were very hot and wanted to relax, which was not for me. I said bye and went off to the zoo next door. An odd find, the zoo claims to be one of the oldest in the world. And aside from the obviously dangerous animals like tigers, cages aren't really a thing there. The main strategy was "Just put a meter deep ditch around the area." Apparently elephants are freaked out by stairs, cause they wouldn't cross it. But of course their noses would and they loved to poke people walking by. The hippo area was a pit not much taller than the hippo, so he could put his face at the level of the enclosure. This turned out to be funny when a little kid peered over the ledge and found himself 6 inches away from a hippos face. He yelled and ran to mom, and I thought "That hippo probably could have eaten him if he wanted to."

After the zoo it was quite hot, but I passed by this kids amusement park full of super weird statues. It was 50 cents to go in, and I'm sure a single white guy taking pictures in a kids park was normal. But these statues... some were good, others were like a 5th grade art project. Of course this made them even funnier. Also there were dinosaurs.

I passed a mall, and thought maybe this will be my only chance to see a Burmese mall. Pretty nice, I had a 100+ Cola from Brunei. Later I would go back for dinner, from a Shan (northern) restaurant. It was a sort of noodle dish with chicken, onions, sauce, and crunchy bread crumbs - almost like croutons.

Last but not least for the day was Shwedagon Pagoda, whose name sounds like a drunk person slurring their words. The story goes when Buddha attained enlightenment, there were 2 merchants present. Buddha gave them 8 strands of his hair. Instead of saying "That's kinda gross, bro." They took them home and built a modest temple. Several kings made it bigger, and now it's a giant temple on a hill, with 3 escalators to get to the top. The top was a giant plaza of stuff, topped by an incredibly large chedi, the largest in the country and probably of most countries. While waiting for sunset I chatted with a monk who invited me to teach at his monastery. I'd love to, but unfortunately the dates just don't line up. I got a selfie and a Facebook friend though, cause monks are all about Facebook. I asked him what he called this country. He said Myanmar (the military's new name) because Burmese is an ethnic group, and there are more groups than just Burmese. Fair enough. It seems the younger people say Myanmar, while the older ones stick to Burma.

Back at the hostel, I ran into my companions. We ate at a local restaurant, and I joked with the girl I wanted that face paint stuff all the girls have. Turns out it's quite an ordeal. They mix this powder and water on a stone plate, then use a piece of sandalwood to grind it. Finally they use a brush to put it on. It got some laughs from the girl, her mom, and the patrons. It felt very cooling, almost minty. After it dried it felt fine, but before it itched a bit. Still, not the most uncomfortable thing. If it does protect like sunscreen I'd imagine it's much cheaper.

The last stop was back to Chinatown, because it was St. Patrick's Day. I started to explain to the locals what today was, but then I realized I don't even really know what it is. Something about leading snakes out of Ireland? Eventually I settled on "An Irish holiday where people drink and stuff is green." In celebration one drunk Chinese guy bought us a round of beers. Now I'm thinking I can just make up western holidays when talking to Chinese people and hopefully get free beers out of it.  Anyway, after a few I headed back. With so much of Yangon to discover, I didn't want to spend it hungover. Onto the next day!