On the road to Mandalay

Market, on the road to Mandalay

When my sister, brother and I were little, my father read to us every night, often from Rudyard Kipling's poems and novels.  One of our favorites was "Mandalay"--and today I read it online before we set off from Mt. Popa on the road to Mandalay (allpoetry.com/poem/8445273-Mandalay-by-Rudyard_Kipling) and remembered why I loved it so much.

This was another day on rough roads (until we hit the Yangon-Mandalay highway) passing through lots of villages.  We came upon a huge "5th day" market in one of the villages--this is a market that comes to the primary village in the area every 5 days, with people from many surrounding villages walking often long distances to sell their wares or buy what their families need.  My photos today will be market photos, faces of this beautiful country.

Gail with peanut vendor

Unlike the enormous market in Yangon we visited, along with dozens of other Western tourists, we were probably the first Westerners ever to show our faces in this market.  We were definitely the oddities, I with my gray hair and Don with his shiny pate.  People were delighted to talk to us and to have their pictures taken.  Part of the market is covered, but most vendors, generally women, sit on the muddy ground to sell their vegetables, chicken parts, fish, fruit, fabrics and countless other household goods.  In one area, women had set up sewing machines that they operated with a foot pedal and used to make clothes on the spot for their customers.  We bought peanuts from one happy woman and shared them with one of the seamstresses and her husband as we talked about her work.

Flower stall with customers

Waiting for the seamstress

Woman with local sunscreen

There were several large trucks loaded far beyond capacity with boxes, people, and animals.  Baskets of overcrowded and very irate piglets rested on the ground and one truck had piles of live goats on top, with their four legs tied together to keep them from jumping down, all screeching their distress and rage (understandably).  Men with oxcarts pulled by one or two cattle rolled through the crowds and women with heavy loads on their heads bought and sold their goods before heading off towards home with their baskets atop.

Sorting tomatoes

Clearly market day is an economic opportunity and a social occasion.  Women help one another organize their goods while chatting enthusiastically and men work together to load and unload trucks, carts, and bicycles.  One woman told us she had come 20 miles with her sewing machine to be part of market day.  She does this every 5 days.

Mandalay is a city of about 1 million people, with swarms of motor bikes filling the streets.  It was home to Burma's last king, sent packing by the British when they conquered the country.  His father built a gorgeous temple of beautifully and intricately carved teak, covered with gold leaf.  It was for his personal prayers and is all that is left of the original Royal Palace buildings that the Japanese destroyed with their bombs in World War II.  But, the old palace walls and moat still stand in the middle of Mandalay and offer a pretty area for walking.  We'll explore more of the city tomorrow and visit a monastery and a nunnery.