Mandalay Marionettes

Mandalay is like no other city I’ve seen, including Yangon. The major streets, which are paved, but in varying states of disrepair, are packed with bikes, trishaws, motorcycles, and “busses,” which are big pickups with three rows of benches and packed with people inside and hanging off the back, and have a guy shouting where it’s going in Burmese. There aren’t too many sidewalk vendors, but the sidewalks are unusable because of the holes that go to the “sewer,” piles of dirt, rubble, and leaves, and trees blocking the walk. The streets are dusty and dirty and there are piles of dirt on the side of the road. There are no stoplights, stop signs, or any other kind of traffic control, besides an occasional cop, so vehicles move continuously in all directions. All vehicles big and small honk their horns at other vehicles and pedestrians when going through an intersection. The side streets are dirt, lined with wooded shacks, have big piles of garbage, and feature stray cows rooting through the garbage. There are very few tall buildings, besides a few expensive hotels (for the ugly Norwegians), and a couple of office buildings. Most buildings are no more than four stories, and are dirty and crumbling. Like elsewhere in Myanmar, everyone where a longyi, and the women paint their faces white. It’s an interesting place.

I had some good (but greasy, of course) Burmese food, finally. I love the big spread you get: a big pot of rice, a bowl of clear soup, a plate of meat (fried mutton balls, in this case), a plate to eat off of, a plate of a veggie (bamboo shoots, this time), and a plate of fresh veggies with a cup of hot chili sauce for dippin’. All this for about a buck. There’s also a really good ice-cream bar nearby. I had a banana shake, a strawberry shake, and two scoops of vanilla ice cream, all made from fresh fruit. Yum!

We went to the Mandalay Marionette show that night. Normally, I hate cultural shows put on for the benefit of tourists, but this was OK. They had beautiful puppets, which they manipulated skillfully to make them jump and twirl around. They even raised the curtain so you could see the puppeteers. I can’t say I’m a fan of shrill Burmese singing, though. Ouch!

We took a trishaw back. I’ll call the driver Mister Trishaw, since I never caught his name. He seemed nice, and offered to show us all the sights for $3. He produced letters and postcards from travelers as references. I normally don’t go for this sort of thing, but it’s cheap, so I figured I’d check it out, since Marie and I are going our separate ways.