I realized on Friday of my trip that I wanted to go back to China already and probably should have booked a Saturday return flight. But I had to wait til Sunday, when while there was no rain, my plane was still delayed.
This should be the last of my Myanmar posts, and a shorter one as well. So after our bus back to Yangon, we spent all of Thursday in the house to my memory, chilling and resting. Friday we went out into the city to do a bit of souvenier shopping at Scott’s market which is apparently the place to do it. I bought some laquerware bowls for my host family and had a delicious snack thing that Chan didn’t even know the name of, tapioca with coconut milk jelly on top. Also some bomb-ass Indian food for lunch. I then go a full tour of Chan’s dad’s gold company which was interesting and cool. We were basically just killing time until it was cool enough outside to go to Chinatown. Very jarring to see traditional Chinese architecture in Myanmar, surprisingly nice and familiar too.
Anywho, the thing that struck me as most interesting was that while in American Chinatowns, it’s most common to see a lot of Chinese-only restaurants/menus with some bilingual ones, the opposite is true in Yangon. I was told this is because a lot of the Chinese integrated a long time ago and most don’t even speak Chinese anymore. Whereas in America the Chinese weren’t allowed to integrate thanks to good old American racism, giving us the wonderful cultures we have today. They also had a whole shao kao street (grilled skewers, best paired with beer and eaten on a hot summer night on the street. We didn’t go there, but went to a Burmese style one a ways away that was still outside. Had a tasty beer there too.
The next day did a bit more shopping and then went out with Chan for a couple of drinks, had some good times, not much more to say other than I got home safe (after delays). Oh, one last fun thing about Myanmar. So being a British colony, the Burmese used to drive on the lefthand side of the road, which meant they could import cheap quality cars from Japan (who also drives on that side). However, some time in the 70’s some general made everyone switch to the other side due to superstition apparently. Because the country still buys Japanese cars though, this means drivers can’t see shit, especially if they’re trying to pass, which is common practice. This turns every car ride into a scary dance with death, and you practically need a spotter in your shotgun seat unless you enjoy the thrill.
That brings us almost up to date with Jake’s time in China part deux. If this seems boring, blame my fatigue. Goodnight and good luck!