My Burmese Days

The first time I left Australia I was eighteen. I'd just finished high school and thought I knew everything. I decided for my first overseas trip to adventure into Myanmar.

The first thing I noticed after stepping out of the carefully air conditioned plane was the wall of heat surging towards me. Once inside the airport I was swept into a crowd of taxi drivers and tourists haggling. The driver who offered to take me to my hotel spoke English almost fluently. I was surprised. I started to realise how naive I was.

I caught myself staring at local people who were doing things that I thought were strange. I was shocked when a monk approached me for a conversation- I did not know that monks spoke. I later found out that monks often speak to tourists to practice their English.

It was not just the people and the culture that left me astonished, however, the architecture was also dumbfounding. The Shwedagon pagoda in the centre of Myanmar's capital, Yangon, can be seen from almost everywhere in the city. According to the monk there is a seventy-nine carat diamond at the top of the stupa. The sun was starting to set as I reached the top of the seemingly millions of steps and the pagoda appeared to be glowing. It was as if by magic.

A line of women with brooms then appeared, adding to the ritualistic, magical feel of the pagoda. They were just sweeping the floor but it looked as though they were dancing. I had to stop and stare. I wanted to soak it up. I wanted to experience everything all at once.

I wanted to go home because I was in a strange place and did not know anything but at the same time I wanted to let the adventure engulf me. And that's exactly what I did.