asia

Bike rides and vineyards | Inle Lake, Burma

When I went to Inle, I packed only a tiny bag, my camera, and a phone. I think I brought the wrong lens with me, because the beauty of all of Inle cannot be captured fully with a 50mm lens.

On my last day in Inle, I rented a bike and ended up deep in the hills. It was not in my original plan for the day, but I often think days spent doing something unexpected are far more rewarding in the end. After several sweaty hours on the bike, I found the Red Mountain winery and fell in love. A French winery in Burma = heaven.

The view was striking, the wine was decent, and the conversations and laughter shared with new friends was memorable to say the least.

For now, I’m back in Yangon with lovely company, a new place to rest my head, and so much to look forward to!

These days have been happy ones.

Magical Inle Lake

Back in Yangon after a terribly quick, but beautiful two days at Inle Lake.

I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go after all the time spent in Yangon, but realized I needed to be around water. I woke up the other morning and decided Inle and booked a bus a few minutes later. I packed only a tiny bag and left everything else in Yangon. It is a strange but comforting feeling to know you’re completely free and open to anything life throws at you.

It was a good decision. And I’d recommend the place to anyone.

For now, its back to Yangon and to the city I’ve learned to love. I must admit being able to tell direct a taxi to an address over an hour away felt quite rewarding this morning.

This last week will be crazy and filled with trying to squeeze everything in and learning how to come to a good stopping point. . . I’m still learning that. . .

From day to night (and more green walls)

These are the places and spaces I spend my days here.

I really can’t complain much – there’s an endless supply of tea and snacks and smiles.

“Just as appetite comes by eating so work brings inspiration”. -Igor Stravinsky

The moments between each rain

If there is one thing I can count on these days, is that eventually the rains slow and there will be a brief moment each day when it becomes a slight drizzle or simply stops. I find those moments to be the most quiet in this city. Everyone knows the rains will start back soon enough and there is a gentle calm that overtakes most everyone. All of these photos were taken during that in-between time.

The rains have become routine, expected, and daily. I have grown to like them (in part) and am thankful that despite the constant wet, and constant damp, the heat doesn’t overpower and the cooler, rain-weather normally wins.

The streets have started to flood and there have been more reported cases of people getting sick and dengue fever (this becomes far more prevalent during the rainy season).

Even in the in-between rain moments, most people still walk around with their umbrellas open. Although I’m not particularly tall by most standards, I’ve had one too many jabs and pokes to the head and face, and cannot handle it anymore. I’ve learned to patiently wait for the crowds and their open umbrellas to pass before I make my move, or be bold and make it clear that a taller person and her umbrella are also trying to make it through. I feel that there is a certain bond with all the other umbrella holders (most everyone) when a crowd tries to pass through a narrow sidewalk at the same time. The taller people raise their higher and the shorter ones lower. Often, this nonverbal communication between strangers works and most people pass what feels a good deal like a gauntlet.

All this to say, life in Yangon is filled with meetings, short-distanced taxi rides (*but, ones that involve a long-time sitting in traffic), long walks with heavy gear, too much coffee, and trying to find creative ways to make everything in my life less damp (no solutions yet).