Wai Yan Hpone

  THE closer the train drew to the city, the more jittery I became. The sun was about to set beyond the low-lying plains across the Yangon River by the time the helmsmen had slowed the train down with a long blast of the horn. I was slightly swaying along with the train. I was excited to see faces and scenes I had not seen for some time. The thought only made my heart beat faster.  I had been assigned to work in my organisation’s Pyinmana branch for three months, the first time I had ever been away from Yangon for that long. While in Pyinmana, thoughts of my hometown rarely popped into my mind.  I had never thought of Yangon as a great place to live, even though it had been my home since birth. But on that evening, as I got closer to the city, I couldn’t help stretching my head through the window and excitedly looking forward to taking in the cityscape   –   the main railroad station with its floral-motif towers, and Traders Hotel and Sakura Tower rising up agai...

  The bus breaks down over Ponnya [Pic: Wai Yan Hpone] My muscles ached in protest as I squeezed-in between luggage and other passengers during my bus ride from Mandalay to Hakha, capital of Chin State. We were only a few hours into the drive and it already felt like an ordeal. The bus was driving along the road to Monywa, a town on the east bank of Chindwin River and I tried to keep myself alert by looking through the window at the desert-like scenes on either side of the road. And all of us were unimpressed by the tortoise-like pace of our bus.    The driver seemed like he knew the road well but the speed at which he was driving was embarrassing; everybody guessed they would miss the scheduled arrival in Hakha the next day. After a long, boring day’s driving, the bus turned into Chaung Oo-Pakokku, a small road that runs leads off from the main highway. Soon we crossed over the Hsinbyushin Bridge that spans the Chindwin River and entered Magwe divisi...

Mandalay royal moat and city wall (Pic: Tourism Myanmar) I wish you ever pay a visit to Shwe Man once It’s an enjoyable place, it’s our iconic city So beautiful with waters shimmering And emerald-green palace walls With turrets and banquettes Surrounded by the moat All bright in the sunlight reflecting HUMMING Shwe Man Si Tho [To Golden Mandalay], a famous song in praise of Mandalay, I set foot on the grounds of our former royal city. Surrounded by the dark Shan Plateau far to the east, Mandalay Hill to the north, and the Sagaing Hills across the Irrawaddy River to the west, enchanting Mandalay immediately captivated me, a Yangonite. My former doubts about the city’s reputation, expounded in many songs and poems, suddenly disappeared. I felt like a foreigner experiencing Myanmar for the first time. Women riding motorcycles; old, nearly empty reconstructed wooden-frame Chevrolet buses from World War II that moved slowly; beautifully designed buildings; clean streets intersecting at righ...