Woke up by continuous enchanting, loud from the streets. I remembered seeing a Indian temple close-by. So was it the prayers there? So after a quick wash up, I raced the steps and out into the streets.
The Indian temple was locked and there was nobody there. It was about 6:30 in the morning. The air was fresh but a little cold and the sun was beginning its shine over this lovely town. It's going to be a bright day again. While I turned back, I noticed all the music and enchanting was from a restaurant just next to the hostel. And to more exact, from a TV set. Later I found out every morning on TV channels, many master monks teaching and guiding people with ceremonies. It didn't mean all locals should be serious in front of the TV set. They more played it for company and background and followed these teaching while they were walking around in their homes.
Walking down the street and I found a very quiet temple. The mosaic carvings shone brightly against the morning sun. I adventured in but as I took off my slippers, the marble floor was really cold. And in the halls around 6 or 7 kneeling down in front of different statues and praying. I like these temples at such moments, quiet, more spiritual. Seems life and time freeze at that moment, partly because of the cold temperature too.
Steps away from the temple there was a nice small cafe just open. It has tall arch ways and galleries with ivy tables and chairs ( too cold for me now). And inside, the girls were sweeping the floor and cleaning the tables when I walked in. A very typical Starbucks like, the setting color and decoration. I ordered a cup of coffee, a fried egg and a big muffin. The cost was 2300 k.
As the first comer, I sat at a corner table by the window deep inside. Outside, the sun was rising higher behind swinging green tall poplar trees lined along the streets as Locals began a new day's life. More were walking by, or rode their horse carts by. By the way, this is my all time favourite travel program, hiding in a secret corner and peeking at life of locals.
Across the street more stores were open now. The first one I entered was a curio one by the name of 'ocean' something, which was recommended by lonely planet but doubted about its honesty by some travlers. It was a small store but packed with lots of 'dusty' or should I say, antique-feel stuff. The majority was puppets, the most famous handicrafts in Myanmar; and there were some embroidery and shan style bags and statues. The man was very courtesy and greeted me in Japanese automatically. Yes, he must have thought of me as Japanese. I didn't bother to correct and interrupt his explanation of his collections. And the price quoted for a piece of embroidery was of course beyond me. I thanked him and left.
To its right, a store sold coffee beans, for which Maymeo was the production center in this whole country. After the nice latte I just had, I 'd like to have some. But I quickly changed my mind. And instead, I got several bags of mix coffee, just for the trip. I didn't like to travel carrying heavy beans all around. So let it be and let it bean!( Actually I found out the mix type was no better than Chinese herbal tea, weak with aroma, and odd taste).
From there, the market was 10 minutes' walk away.Behind the new building was a traditional shabby old one for foods, and produces. It had traditional shan noodle, bread, pasty, fruits, and fresh flowers. And beside local people, some very young monks were walking from one store to another for morning alms.
One scene was touching to me, as I observed. Two novice monks, stopped at a fruit stand, when there was only one boy, around 10 years old, guarding, maybe on his parents' behalf. The little boy quickly searched some money in a box and put very seriously into the alms. There the mom appeared. Looked like the mom said the son had given too much. But when the woman turned around and left, he caught some oranges and ran ofter the two monk, who had left the stand. He smiled full of apology and then put them inside the alms again.
Not sure of smoke from cooking oven or not, I felt like tears coming into my eyes. A little boy from a not so wealthy family, had so generous a heart to share...
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