Bombs over Bagan, Burma

I'm peddling my little heart out, trying to make it home before the night sky turns to black. From behind me, I hear a sound so loud and choppy it could only be coming from a helicopter. I have flashbacks of my two tours in Vietnam before I realize I'm only 27. I look behind me, At first glance, I see nothing. Second glance, I make out a black steal machine, hot on my tail with no headlights, and honking at me. I'm already on the sandy shoulder of the road, trying to stay upright as the sand gets deeper and attempts to throw me from the old rickety bike I've rented from my hotel.
The machine is barreling down on me at a rate of speed just barely faster than mine. I'm at top speed, and am fairly certain this hunk of junk is too, so we race it out. I don't want to give up my speed now, as I'm climbing a gentle slope and it can be impossible to regain speed in this sand once it's lost.

A car door opens, the passenger jumps into the street without looking. I swerve and barely avoid running him over, just as what turns out to be some sort of homemade tricycle car that looks like something you'd find in a 1920's museum has gained speed and is passing me. He doesn't give me more than a foot or two of leeway, even though the far side of the street is free from traffic. I see my lane, and take it. Just enough room to fit between the less-than-cautious pedestrian and the tricycle chopper.

Moments later, a car pulls out in front of me. Right out in front of me. And he's going slow. Really slow. My bright yellow shirt tells me that it's not a case of ignorance, but rather an ill-timed maneuver. I am fully confident there was no haste in the decision, if you could call it a decision, but nevertheless, my impulsive reaction is to silently curse the driver, or was that out loud? Impulse and reaction noted.

He's going so slow that even though I'm going uphill, I can easily pass him, but what side to choose? In a split-second, I decide to go left, around the outside, and hope that he doesn't decide to pull out all the way. He doesn't, and instead, just completely takes up the shoulder at a steady 3 mph while I zip past him thinking, "Really?"

A group of monks cross the road, I know they see me, but they too are just "going for it." I give a little tap to my break, unsure of my next move. I think I have too much speed to go behind them on the left, and I know I can't trust the sorry excuse for a brake that came equipped on this vintage cruiser, so I decide to sneak-by on the right and nearly collide with the leader of the pack.

I guess that's the price you pay to get that view of the pagodas at sunset 4 miles from town. It's a small price too, as long as you can avoid the treacherous terrain and unweilding  drivers. "It's all part of the adventure," I keep telling myself.

It's easy to lose faith in humanity when you are out there almost getting run over by them in traffic, but as soon as I make it back to my guest house, I am reminded of their sincere and genuine kindness. There's just something about driving that makes you wonder sometimes. I guess the idea of common courtesy isn't extended to the world of transportation over here.

Well, in a way, it is, as the custom is to give a little "beep beep beep" of the horn everytime you are about to pass someone. They actually use the horn for a friendly means of communicating with each other, where as in the states, it's usually closer to a "F-you buddy! I'll follow you home and kill your whole family!" It's a dichotomy, it is, to live in world where someone will give you a friendly notice before they almost run you over and take your life.

The day didn't start out so harrowing though. My first move, after taking a nap to make up for the 4:30 am arrival and 8:00 am check-in, was to track down this cave monastery that I guy I met in Yangon had told me about. He said you could go down there and expect to find a cool and quiet place to meditate, away from any traffic and the blistering heat of the day. So I asked the guy behind the counter at my guest house if he knew where such a place was, and as it turns out, it was just a 20 minute bike-ride away. So I packed some things for the afternoon and set off, with a map in hand and only a general idea of where I was starting from. After a few wrong turns and some help from more-than-willing locals, I was pointed in the right direction and on my way.

When I arrived, my location was confirmed by a sign that read "Nanda Mannya Cave Grotto Kyat Kan Monastery." A monk, and a territorial dog, greeted me when I pulled my bike into the monastery, and when I made a gesture with my hands for meditation, he pointed me to the entrance of the cave. There were three entrances, and I didn't know which one to choose, so I started with the one of the left, only to find a monk catching a nap on a bamboo cot. I backed out slowly, and took the one on the far right. I wasn't sure where they led, or if the initial corridor I was looking at was the extent of them.

It was dark in there, and I was glad I thought to bring my flashlight. As it turns out, the corridor with the sleeping monk led into another one and I took that down until it opened up into another room. The batteries in my flashlight were going out, and so I stopped to put the fresh ones in that I had just purchased. I found a straw mat on the floor and was preparing to sit for meditation right there until I turned around and saw yet another corridor leading behind me. I took that one, and found that it branched out into three more tunnels that all led to the outside world on the other side, and also contained rooms with cots and more channels that connected back up in the end.

Three entrances to the tunnels.

I was quite surprised to see the layout of the tunnels, and was happy to find that I was the only one down there, except of course, for the sleeping monk. I explored the layout a bit before I discovered a couple doorways that were padlocked and one final room, which turned out to be the one I was looking for, the shrine room. It had a glass case with Buddha-images inside, and a straw mat in front in which one could sit on. Perfect.

So I sat for an hour. My mind was so still and clear, and the only sounds I could hear were the echoes of birds chirping above the surface. Since I had arrived early in the morning and took a nap before heading out, I had gotten a late start and only had time to see a few temples after the meditation I was losing sunlight. I decided to take to the highest point around, the look-out tower that I had already briefly visited. The entrance fee of $5 was good for the whole day, and the guy who took me up the 11 floors in the elevator, and one final floor by stairs to the rooftop, had suggested I come back for sunset, and I'm glad I did, because what a cool way to see the valley in which I would spend the next 3 days exploring!

I had some nice pictures to go along with this, but the internet connection here is brutally slow and I've already worn out somewhere between 3 and 5 hours trying every means possible just to get one photo posted. I guess when I get back to the "real world," aka Thailand, I'll have to post a bunch of pics from this trip.