Another temple

After three days I'm ready to go. The people here are just too anoying. Plus, If I see another Buddha, I'll puke. The day started off with a slightly unsettling encounter. I rode past a family building a zedi, and two girls invited me into their hut. Strange, since people usually don't invite strangers into their homes. Then they asked to have their pictures taken, and posed with me. Strange again, since usually you have to ask people for photos. Then grandma came in, then dad, and pretty soon the whole family was there. They showed me a whole stack of photos from someone named Christine. It looks like Christine had a digital photo printer, which made my life slightly difficult when they started asking for "photo presents." It was impossible to communicate the fact that I can't print my own photos. Then brother wanted a "tee shirt present," and one of the original girls wanted money. I literally had nothing to give them except candy, which they refused.

In my mind presents should never be requested or refused, so I was slightly annoyed. I felt like they were trying to extort gifts from me. I can see that having some worthless trinkets to give away would be useful, but it seems that no matter what you give, you will teach people that tourists are a source of "stuff." Then when the next tourist comes along, as I followed Christine, the people will ask for more stuff.

The local art is nice

That unsettling encounter was followed by a downright disturbing one. As I rode through a village a kid ran up and asked for my water. I'm not sure why I gave in, but when I forked it over he snickered and ran off. Then more kids ran up with outstretched palms.

I rode on to investigate more temples. Here a Buddha, there a Buddha, everywhere a Buddha Buddha These people were (and still are) mad about the guy. Bagan is the place to buy laquerware, and I wanted some, so at one temple I reward the annoying group of vendors' persistence by buying a bunch. First I bought a plate (the woman said since I was her "special friend" she gave me a "special price), then four cups and two bowls (the woman wanted "lucky money"), and finally two little boxes (the only English she knew was "lucky money" and "local art"). All told I paid $11 for the nine pieces. I had fun with it, haggling, and drew a crowd of all the vendors, but when I wanted to go, they still wouldn't leave me alone, and followed me to my bike. Not even buying something will make these people happy.