Shwedagon

The Holiest Spot in Myanmar

The Shwedagon Palace Pagoda is the largest, oldest and holiest temple in Myanmar. If the legend that says it is more than 2,500 years old is true, then it is the oldest Buddhist temple in the world. Its origins are a mystery but it was probably built around the 6^th century, and, by the 11^th century, was well-established. At this time, Yangon, later to become the center of British colonial Burma, was just a small settlement centered around the temple.

Each successive ruler added a stupa, raised a terrace, or donated gold and gems.  The most generous was Queen Shinsawbu (1453-72), who raised its height to 40m, terraced the hill on which it stands and assigned land and hereditary slaves for its maintenance. She started the tradition of gilding when she provided her own body weight in gold.

Shwedagon consists of 3 terraces but visitors are only allowed onto the middle one. After stashing our shoes away in the reception area (very organized), we rode an elevator and then crossed a glass-enclosed bridge. We emerged to a tangle of gold spires and stupas. Rising above them all was the huge golden dome of the main stupa. An estimated 60 tonnes of gold is thought to adorn this stupa, which rises 98 meters and covers a vast area. At the top of the dome is a bejeweled “umbrella” covered with 5,445 diamonds and 2,317 rubies. At the very top is a “bud”  tipped with a 76 carat diamond. We were to see many more pagodas and Buddhas in Myanmar, all maintained in their gold-leafed splendor by devotees in this otherwise poor country.


"All about, shrines and pagodas were jumbled pell-mell with the confusion with which trees grow in the jungle. They had been built without design or symmetry, but in the darkness, their gold and marble faintly gleaming, they had a fantastic richness."          W. Somerset Maugham

The visitors’ terrace occupied more than 5 hectares, the whole floored with marble. It was crowded with devotees who prayed in groups, lit candles and bowed in worship. They brought to mind our Filipino Catholic devotees, especially when they would stroke their sacred images for blessings.
               

There are 8 planetary posts, dedicated to specific days and animals of the week. Pouring water at one's planetary post brings good luck

 Groups of volunteers would sweep the 5-hectare terrace every afternoon.

 

Rangoon ..... errr, Yangon

Rangoon, Remnants of Empire

Nostalgia for the monarchy?

1        Rangoon felt like the quintessential tropical colonial city, much more so than the equally tropical, formerly colonized city that I come from, Manila. Maybe this had to do with the lush greenery, the lack of high-rises and the abundance of buildings dating from the 1930s - 1950s. I wasn't surprised to learn from Wikipedia that it has the largest number of colonial buildings in Southeast Asia.

The view from our hotel window was of a lush, tropical city

It was the commercial and political center of British colonial Burma, and still is today, even though another city, Naypyidaw, was officially designated the capital in March 2006. With a population of only 5 million, it is nevertheless the largest city in Myanmar.

The Strand Hotel

      One of the most luxurious hotels in the British Empire. It was part of the hotel empire of the Sarkies Brothers, who also owned the Eastern & Oriental in Penang and Raffles in Singapore. It deteriorated and by the 1980s was famed for its rats. A friend of mine who was on mission with UNDP in the early 80s stayed almost a month in The Strand Hotel and recounted how rats would scuttle across the dining room floor. The whole city was very dirty then. Paul Theroux had only a story about rats when he wrote about Burma in his book of travel stories, To the Ends of the Earth. Happily, the hotel was rescued from years of neglect by the Aman group, developers of luxury hotels all over Asia, and beautifully renovated.

 

Unlike other renovated hotels in the region, it has stayed true to its architectural past, with no new wing, no vast lobby, no swimming pool or spa. The atmosphere in the lobby is genteel, the wicker furniture, potted ferns and ceiling fans seem to await the appearance of a Somerset Maugham heroine.

      We had lunch in another holdover of the colonial past, Kandawgyi Lake, an artificial lake built by the British as a water reservoir. It is 150-acres (60.7 hectares) and is surrounded Kandawgyi Nature Park and Zoological Gardens. We wished there was a place like this in Manila. This vast nature park was more like a Western city, and something the Burmese could thank the British for.

Burma .... errr, Myanmar

The Golden Land

All the economic, political and medical statistics on Myanmar are bad. It is one of the least developed economies in the world. It has the world’s worst health care, as ranked by the WHO. It has had constant strife among its many ethnic groups. The governing military regime is notorious the world over for keeping the heroic Aung San Su Kyi under house arrest for an incredible 20 years.

So why would tourists want to travel to a place that had the potential to be squalid and dangerous? Despite the dire statistics, there is a romance, a lure in the names Burma, Mandalay, Rangoon. It may be because of all that has been written about them by its colonisers, the British. The repressive military government may have been bad for development but, on the other hand, the rigid travel restrictions it imposed meant that Burma, now called Myanmar, would be untouched by modernity and “progress” in the form of globalisation.

 Once in the country, Myanmar held many nice surprises. It certainly did not seem like the country portrayed in the media. It was more like the country the Burmese themselves call “The Golden Land.”

The airport in Yangon (Rangoon) and the other airports that we passed through were new, modern and very clean. In Myanmar, they have managed to modernise without losing their identity, hence the charming mix of glass-and-steel topped with gold pointed roofs, and apsaras on the tail of an airplane.

Bacolod -- VIP Treatment


It was getting late but we couldn't miss seeing a remnant of the past, the Balay ni Tana Dicang, ancestral home of the descendants of Enrica Alunan Lizares, a grand matriarch of Negrense society during the Commonwealth period. For a little peek into the way of life then, go to the blog of her great granddaughter and read her entry called "Perks of Being a Lizares Granddaughter". (Enter "Journeying by lizaresandrea" to get to the fanbox blog).

Tana Dicang was a society heavy weight in the Commonwealth period ... I don't remember much mention of her husband but there definitely was one, as they had 15 children. There were stories of her famed thrift and business acumen, and her hobnobbing with Quezon. In fact, we were shown the bedroom and bathroom that were built especially for his visit to Negros. We were also shown a bust of her, which showed a tough, very Chinese-looking woman, despite the Spanish name. An ancient mayordoma, one of the last of a dying breed that only survives in the province, brought us around the house and tried to serve us merienda. Alas, it went mostly untouched as we had to nurture that last space in our stomachs for a tour de force of eating later in the evening.

A quick shower and then we were ready for a special treat.... Lynn Gamboa treated us like visiting royalty, we were spoiled with all the special treatment we were getting! It was almost 8 pm when we arrived to a fully-lit Negros Museum. What a warm welcome despite the late hour! A wonderfully informative and amusing guide whizzed us through the exhibits at double-time. We heard the by-now familiar litany of family names: Lacson, Luzuriaga, Locsin, Lopez, Ledesma. These families seem to have dominated the social, historical and business life of Negros! The last stop on the tour was a room-ful of toys, 3,000 of them from all over the world.

Dinner at the charming Museum Cafe followed. It was to be a 9-course degustation prepared by their Dutch chef, incongruously named Guido. Each course was preceded by a little explanation by Chef Guido, describing his slow-cooking method and highlighting local ingredients. It was such fun anticipating what we would be surprised with next, and in the meantime enjoying the company and the surroundings. We started late, almost 9 o clock, and ate the last morsel at almost midnight .... marathon dining!

Our gastronomic trip came to an end with one member of our group in hospital from over-eating! But if you think that was the end of our greedy guts, think again. We all went home loaded down with food that we hadn't managed to eat while there: lobsters, dilis, napoleones, passion fruit syrup, piayas, dried squid, lumpiang ubod, etc., etc. etc!

Adobo In All Guises

Adobo In All Guises

Cinco de Noviembre was also the day of the Adobo Festival in Silay, something of an institution for the last 14 years. Coincidentally, the festival was held in the Balay Negrense, located on Cinco de Noviembre street. On the grounds of the beautiful old house, stands were set up for young, aspiring cooks to push the envelope of what exactly constitutes adobo. They pulled and twisted and chopped that basic soy-sauce-and-vinegar recipe into all kinds of unrecognizable guises: in tacos, in quesadillas, as a soup, doused with truffle oil and, the most off-the-wall, as a chocolate-covered lollipop! There were 15 types to try. And in case that wasn't enough, there were about 10 other versions from previous years on sale. My heart went out to Bruce, one of our group, who was chosen to judge the desserts. After trying 15 different adobos, he had to taste about 10 different desserts. He was a great sport, though, and managed to burp his way through! 

The Balay Negrense was the ancestral house of the Gaston family, whose ancestor was one of the pioneers of sugar cultivation in Negros.

The heat was intense, and interfered with my enjoyment of the feast. All I could do was sit and sweat, fanning myself in between bites of adobo. Adding to the heat were more than a dozen portable stovetops, plus more fires on the side, where there were demonstrations of cooking piaya, a Negros specialty made of unleavened bread sandwiching muscovado sugar.

After cooling off, we did a little shopping and then it was time to try the Bacolodian dish that has conquered the country: inasal. We protested that we were too full for merienda so Celeste at first relented but then said it would serve as a pre-dinner appetizer. We grumbled but were so charmed by the restaurant's cute decor ... it was decked out in last year's masks from the Masskara festival ... that we stayed. This was apparently the best inasal in Bacolod, chicken marinated and basted in secret spices, the chief among them achuete (annato). There were bottles of achuete oil on every table, in case the chicken was not oily enough for you!

We needed some time to digest the "appetizer" before dinner, so we walked around a nearby shopping mall for an hour and then, on to the next meal! We met Lynn Gamboa, our wonderful hostess with the mostess, in the pala-pala (seafood market) to buy the seafood we intended to feast on. After ogling the tunas, curachas (langoustines), and other wealth of seafood, we made our choice of lobsters, scallops, prawns and blue marlin. 






We headed for one of the many restaurants that cook the seafood for you. Being picky clients, we didn't use their plates and cutlery, but the ones Lynn had kindly carted over for us from her house. It certainly was a no-frills place, but they cooked delicious sinigang salmon head, and grilled the scallops, prawns and fish to perfection.

Much as our spirits would have wanted dessert, the flesh for once was too weak for any more food.

Cinco de Noviembre

On the 5th of November, Bacolodians celebrate the events that led to their establishing the Republic of Negros, a bright and shining moment in their history. For three months, the negrenses were completely free of the Spanish conquistadores and even of the Tagalogs, who had earlier established a republic of the Philippines, presumptuously speaking for the whole country. It seems to me that this was their Camelot moment and the Knights of the Round Table were the sugar planters, Lacson, Araneta, Locsin, Lizares, Luzuriaga, Golez, Diaz and Montilla, who negotiated a peaceful surrender. 

Compared to the bitterness and bloodshed of the Katipuneros' struggle for freedom, the Negros Revolution was amiable, good-natured and highly civilized: gentlemen talking politely among themselves, and coming to a reasonable, face-saving conclusion. The revolutions seem to reflect the differences between the peoples: the Tagalogs confrontational and rough, the Ilonggos smooth and gentle. The differences are even reflected in the language: Ilonggos speak in a low voice, with a gentle sing-song intonation, Tagalogs speak louder with a more guttural sound. Of course, this is the opinion of a Kapampangan, so it could be challenged!

Celeste, accompanied by her entourage, us, were the honored guests, who arrived late but were nevertheless greeted enthusiastically with a brass band and crowds of boy and girl scouts, then ushered to the front row beside the Mayor and other dignitaries. 

After a reenactment of the events of that fateful day, the whole crowd walked down a street lined with beautiful old mansions to the town plaza. There, we were plied with panara, piaya, barbecue and different varieties of puto and suman, forerunners of more food, a lot more food, to come.