himalaya

I am just back from a long trip of two weeks. I am happy I can happy several days off, to have a break and slow down.

This morning, I found all links to a very wonderful movie theme soundtrack of Himalaya, a french production and filmed in Nepal. I happened to be attracted by it when I was inside a small bookstore on Beijing rd, Lhasa. The music was so great and spiritual, however the price the owner asked for a self-burned cd, 38 yuan sounded a real ripoff to me.

I am now enjoying the music while unfurling myself in my small room...

Day 7, ava and Chinese emperor

Legend had it, when Beijing the capital of Ming dynasty was conquered by the army of a farmer rebellion led by Li Zhicheng, the last emperor once ran southwards to Mandalay, Burma, but unluckily betrayed and thrown into prison by the king of Ava. He was then returned to Yunnan and then killed by a gerneral Wu Sangui, who'd surrendered to Manchurian. (Sounded true? But didn't the emperor hang himself up on a tree on the Prospect Hill just north of the forbidden Palace?)

Anyway, when I rode my bike out of shaded path, so surprised was I to see a big- scale white paya stationed quietly in the middle of soya bean fields. It was like a UFO which just landed, still exhaling the fume. Or a cream cake ready to melt, as much as me myself after such a long ride and fruitless search.

One kind woman, (must be caretaker) came up to me, still holding the prayer bead in hand. All in smiles, she gestured to welcome me up onto the terrace. So I quickly changed my sneakers into slippers and left my bike, and my bag there, unlocked.

My rugged greeting 'mingalabar/ hello' amused her before she retreated back into her seat. I could feel her kind and friendly care towards a lonely traveller from her smiles and eyes. But when I tried secretly to take a pic of her from the other side of the paya arch, she smartly avoided and picked up her chat with another villager.

I was the only visitor there. I walked around the paya again and again, and everytime when I walked beside her, we would smile at each other, hers a little apologetically. In the end I waved her goodbye and walked to the neighboring paya, which had a grand terrace with statues of lions and a huge gold top. The caretaker was an older man, who kindly offered me a cup of water. This made me hesitate for a while, to refuse such a good hear or to risk the water safety?

Then walked back to my bike when I noticed four horse carts driving past. It was an European or American group. I decided to follow them, but riding the bike on such narrow path was a really chanllege. When I got to the place, the palace wall, not so well preserved, they were already back to the wagon. I decided to walk in their way,instead of riding again, for my bottom ached a lot.

It was another 10 minutes' walk through soya bean fields, before I got to the watch tower. which was in collapsing condition. A girl kindly reminded me the danger of the stairs and ballastrade, and I bought a set of postcards from her at 1000 k. On the top of ' the leaning tower of Inwa', I had some little chat with the group. They were Americans and had been to China and Tibet.(Interesting! As judging by the date, I was in the same time in Lhasa too. )They were accompanied by two guides, one tour guide and the other an escort from the boat. Both of them were polite and patient, especially the escort. A handsome young man looked so gentle with his pure white bag. He replied it was a Shan style bag, a traditional handicraft from Inle lake. And actually later when I found similar bags at Inle lake, I could not wear so smart like him.

It was the Bagaya Kyaung which made me decide to come to Ava. The finest attraction, happily unrenovated, dated back to 1834, and was a wonder of teak beautifully carved. And at the entrance I was stopped to pay 10 dollars for the ticket for all attractions in Mandalay and around. And the vendors and kids there were becoming a little nuisance, though.And from there, I had a pretty good view of the Ava bridge. Because of its strategic importance, any photography of , or from is strictly forbidden. But despite this, nobody on the sight, including the kids begging for money or bon bon or even the monks, seemed not to care at all.

On the way out of the village, some very Bagan payas caught my attentions. I stopped there for a lot of photos, which tired the white baffalos, as I guess. But the kids seemed very excited all along the way. Do I look foreigner to them, for they were competing with themselves or me, to see who could yell goodbye loudest? I felt victory.

The way I was riding on had special designs on bridges every 30-40 meters. I guess it must be a sacred road leading mandarian to the palace. And when I waited for a father with his young daughter to go first, the father thanked me and then asked:' are you traveller? are you from Japan? My answer seemed satisfactory. He seemed assured, then surprisingly in Chinese, ' ni hao. wo ye shi zhong guo ren. hello, I am Chinese.' Is there anything so dramatic and perfect?He explained I'd better return and ride on the old road, for the next one, still being under constrution would be dusty.( It was the way I came.)

After pleasant ride under the shade, I returned to the first part of new road, where I 'd stopped for direction. Amazingly, the women workers all turned their faces to me and smiled goodbye to me! And beyond the road, several farmer were working on the ride fields or catching fish from the pond. What a wonderful day, or a wonderful half day!

Next I was going to U-bein bridge.