Yangon: Lessons in Duality

Yangon is a jungle disguised as a city. 

The sprawling metropolis is inundated with cranes; skyscrapers and luxury apartment buildings are being stacked into every empty nook and cranny. From the street the city consumes you, but when you get up high enough to see over the building and temple tops you will understand that there is a battle going on at the city's edges. The encroaching flora takes every opportunity to strangle man's progress; the perimeter between jungle and city is a place of constant movement; of man cutting trees and roots cracking concrete. The first of many examples of duality.

Upon arriving to the airport our driver is waiting behind a glass wall holding up an enlarged photo of us. We had exchanged pics so that we would recognize each other. Outside it's dark and muggy. Skinny men squat in groups while a women with white squares painted on her cheeks tends to a smoking grill. For over 2000 years, Burmese women have been painting their faces with thanaka cream made from ground tree bark. The yellowish-white paste smells of sandalwood and is ritually applied in circles, squares or swirls on the cheeks of women, girls and boys as a cosmetic and sunscreen. Their chalky cheeks paint one of the most iconic images of Myanmar.

We have been invited to the home of Doug and Myadali Soe Lin. Doug is the architect who designed the Royal Textile Academy in Thimphu and Michael is working with him on the current phase of construction in Bhutan. We arrive to the Soe Lin home, nestled in the back of the old neighborhood where Doug's family has lived for generations. The old house has been completely remodeled to personify the Buddhist concept of duality. The intersection of horizontal and vertical lines, open spaces that funnel into narrow hallways, balancing elements of light and dark all contribute to a spatial effect that is at once simple and complex; minimal yet well lived in. Doug manifests these elements of duality through architecture, reflecting the belief that all things, all people have two sides; a yin and yang.  

Doug and Myadali are themselves an interesting example of duality. The effortlessly elegant Myadali softens Doug's colorful eccentricities; Quiet charm is met with loud exuberance. 

The two have known each other most of their lives; their families are longtime friends, both deeply rooted in the tumultuous story of Yangon's history. In the early 1960's when the military took control both families were forced to flee Burma for the United States. Doug and Myadali both ended up in Maryland and their friendship provided a sturdy foundation for the future they would create together. 

With renewed peace and stability in Myanmar, the Soe Lins are able to split their time between their ancestral home in Yangon and their lives in America. Doug says the next ten years in Burma will be like China was 15 years ago. Now that the military junta is over, foreign investments are returning and opportunity abounds. The city is imposing a purposefully high vehicle tax in an attempt to discourage more drivers in the city. But it's too late. Yangon is a gridlock of narrow twisting streets, crumbling colonial architecture, glittering pagoda roofs and sleek apartment buildings. Looking out the window on our first holiday drive with Doug, it is obvious that this place is entirely its own. Rising above the smoldering ashes of dictatorship and persecution, the city and its people have managed to maintain their dignity and their faith...Or perhaps it is because of their faith that they have persevered.

The Theravada tradition of Buddhism practiced in Myanmar is considered to be the "purest" school of Buddhism because it adheres most closely to the old texts and generally emphasizes a more rigorous observance of the monastic code. Nearly 90% of people in Myanmar today are Buddhist. Theravada Buddhists ultimately aim to be released from the cycle of suffering, samsara, and to achieve nirvana. Unlike other schools of Buddhism, (like the Mahayana tradition practiced in Bhutan), the Theravada tradition believes it is possible to achieve nirvana in a single lifetime. Practitioners engage in a type of awareness meditation, called vipassana.

Each home has an altar room for meditation and to make daily offerings. Lay people earn merit (karma points) by making offerings to the monastic community during the monks' morning alms processions through the neighborhoods, or in the form of donations to temples and monasteries.

Our visit happened to coincide with the family's annual puja.  A group of nuns led the extended family in prayers and rituals to to honor their dead relatives. The ceremonies were followed by an elaborate feast of fish and curries and salads; our first true taste of Burma. 

On the sidewalk a young boy sells strands of jasmine. He face is angelic. Creamy caramel skin and matching eyes; wide and lined with long dark lashes. "Mingalaba, madame. Thank you, madame," he says between bows as he presents a delicate garland of hand strung flowers. My head is swimming in the humid air, all my senses bathed in the sticky perfume of jasmine. I sing in my head, "mingalaba, mingalaba, mingalaba (hello)." My new favorite word brings a smile to my face each time it rolls off the tongue of a passing stranger. 

"That boy is there every day," Myadali says when we spot him again the following evening at an intersection. We're driving to meet Doug and Myadali's good friends at the yacht club overlooking the Inya Lake just north of downtown. The lake is a mecca for courting Yangonites; the hills along its edge are dotted with couples lounging and groups of young girls strolling past dressed in their best longyis.    

The longyi is a sarong like skirt worn by men and women. It is very common to see a man or woman casually open their longyi while walking, shake it out and retie the knot. These movements are done unconsciously and with mechanical precision. Colors are vibrant and the people take obvious pride in their appearance. 

In the mornings we drink coffee with Doug and chat with Myadali's mother about the effects of colonization and military rule on the education system and its consequential impact on Burmese society. Doug drives us around old Yangon and takes us to the Strand Hotel; one of the city's oldest and most famous buildings. We run around the western import grocery store like kids in a candy shop, drink white wine in Doug's backyard gazebo and eat pizza at Sharky's, one of Yangon's many fine-food, casual dining options. 

And of course, no visit to Yangon is complete without experiencing the Shwedagon Pagoda. The Pagoda grounds evolved over 2500 years, layered with hundreds of brick, bronze, silver, copper and gold temples, stupas and statues. The central temple is covered with hundreds of gold plates and the tip of the stupa is encrusted with 5448 diamonds, 2317 rubies, sapphires, jade and other gems, 1065 golden bells, and at the very top, a single 76-carat diamond (a testament to Burma's overflowing wealth of precious stones). Doug's grandfather was one of Burma's premier architects and one of the first to work for the British during their colonization. Many of the buildings he designed are still in use, but perhaps one of his most esteemed projects is the temple at Shwedagon's western side.

The country's most sacred Buddhist site is an epicenter for religious and community activities. On any given day the pagoda grounds are bustling with devotees and monks washing the statues, offering flowers, strolling, worshiping, meditating, napping and eating lunch. Yet another thriving example of Yangon's duality: monks on cell phones, men in rags sleeping atop gold plated stupas, the dignified curves of the pagoda covered in utilitarian scaffolding.

Decadent wedding couple

while the cleaning lady looks on

To our wonderful hosts, Doug and Myadali, Kyeizu tin ba de! Your overwhelming hospitality and the warmth of the Burmese people only ensured that we will be back. Onward to Inle Lake.