Breakfast at Winner Inn was fine: everything a bit different, squat sour bananas, tiny ripe strawberries, etc. I didn’t yet know about Mohinga, so ate more or less Western (avoiding the technicolor margarine). Marissa C. met us while we were still in the breakfast room, and we were soon in a taxi, headed for the Yangon Heritage Trust offices on Pansodan Street. We had a bit of trouble locating the building, but were soon sitting having tea at the new Rangoon Tea House: very nice!
The Yangon Heritage Trust was founded by Thant Myint-U, grandson of the UN Secretary General U Thant; the foundation seeks to preserve and restore the remarkable assembly of colonial building in downtown Yangon. Those buildings are in a horrible state of disrepair and facing extinction.
Andrew joined us at the foundation offices, where our guide, Frank, who was actually a researcher for the Trust, met us and led us through a fascinating visual tour of Yangon’s history. We then headed down Pansodan street, with great explanations of the imposing colonial buildings: banks, merchant societies, port authorities, etc.
Most are unused or only partially used, and very, very few have been restored.
We were able to walk through what had been the largest emporium in 1930, owned by two brothers, with elaborate tile floors imported from Manchester, and see how the dark spaces now house squatters, small guest houses, tea merchants in the corridors, etc.
Here is a good example of an unrestored, but formerly stately, building.
The street life in Yangon is incredible: every inch along the buildings is taken up with vendors of every sort, selling street food, tea, fruit and vegetables, sim cards, books, newspapers, etc.
And merchants and service providers set up their “office” in chairs or the back of vans: notaries, lawyers, messengers, delivery services, etc.
We turned down a narrow street with warehouses that once housed the goods brought into the port. Rangoon was the fourth busiest port in the world in 1930, really a hub for all of SE Asia. We weren’t able to photograph two of the most beautiful buildings, which house the police (Bureau of Special Investigations). At the end of the street stands the Strand Hotel, one of the landmarks of colonial Rangoon.
A massive, stately building with lofty ceilings and slowly turning ceiling fans, right out of Graham Green.
It also houses the River Gallery run by a New Zealand expat with whom we have become friends over the years. Unfortunately, nothing on display appealed to Sue except for two huge neo-expressionist landscapes that were 10 and 12k!
From the Strand we passed the old and new Post Offices and the British Embassy.
Across the street and right on the river was a huge British officer’s club, now of course in the hands of the generals and their cronies. We turned north into Bogolay Zay Street and visited the lovely Armenian Church. Armenians had been privy counselors to the last kings, and occupied key positions in the state and economy. The last of them fled the Japanese in 1942.
The blocks north of this are among the most important in Yangon, with very few modern intrusions, and some really gorgeous residences. At the end of the street, across from the Secretariat, was the Chilean Embassy, where Pablo Neruda worked for two years and had an ill-fated affair with a Burmese woman. The secretariat—what had once been the British colonial Chancery—is enormous and almost completely unused: a gorgeous red brick colonial compound that occupies a very large city block. Obama was received in one of the courtyards when he visited—an event cited by everyone we met when they learned we were Americans.
Turning west into Mahabandoola, we found ourselves in the tech area, teeming with appliances and cell phones. We saw Sule Pagoda, but also a Hindu Temple, a Buddhist Temple, and glimpsed St. Mary’s Cathedral, all in a square mile. Pansodan Street brought us back to the offices, passing the High Courts and several buildings with large signs warning of immanent collapse, a strategy by the owners who hoped to have them demolished and available for modern structures. Real estate prices downtown rival those in San Francisco, but the buildings that go up make the GDR look like the high rent district.
We went back to the Strand and had a very nice lunch with Marissa: our first Mohinga. She is an exceptional young woman: one has to be enormously enterprising to devote ten years to public service in SE Asia. After lunch we hopped in separate cabs: Andrew to his hotel, Sue, Marissa, and I to the Winner Inn to pick up the books for the Yangon Learning Center. The cabbie dropped us on what he thought was Bajo Street, which turned out to be wrong. After some help from an exceptionally nice young man, we finally found the center and were greeted by Amy Kaufmann, the Mennonite Intern, and Khoo Kyaw San, the Executive Director. We had a long and very frank talk about what they needed and about their relations with Cetana. There is much to be done! As the conversation drew to a close we were picked up by a former Cetana Scholar, Kin Kin, who took us to the ICE Library, a volunteer organization that provides materials and tutoring for students who wish to take the SAT and other rests for study abroad. Kin Kin had attended De Paux, but returned to a country with no job for her. Her friend had attended the University of Rochester and studied biomedical engineering. She, too, was unemployed. A most impressive facility and an impressive bunch of students.
Kin Kin very nicely drove us to the Governor’s Residence; we had a pretty leisurely late afternoon drink while we decided on dinner. We were all beat, so we took a cab to a highly recommended restaurant called Pandomnar. The cab was only the first mistake: the restaurant is a five minute walk from Andrew’s hotel. And the restaurant: what a disaster! Long tables with French tour groups, mediocre food, served lukewarm. It didn’t exactly set the table for the delights of Burmese cuisine. Once at “home,” we collapsed and slept well but intermittently until about 5:30 the next morning.