Traveling around a place like Asia, we often find ourselves saying “I never thought I’d actually be here.” Myanmar wasn’t on our original itinerary, so when we landed in Yangon, this sentiment was multiplied. Our adorable hotel was full of friendly Burmese staff, and the fold-down table tops atop which we ate the local breakfast of mohinga to start our day reminded us of home.
Yangon felt a little older than most Asian cities we’ve stayed in, but it hasn’t skipped a beat. Things might be run-down, but the people are lively and happy. In Myanmar especially, the people are really exited to see you (this is a theme). It’s a country where tourism is still young. Only in the past 5 years have visitors been welcome. And in some of the northern parts of the country, they are still supremely unwelcome due to some major Golden Triangle drug trafficking.
A beloved gem of the city, the Swhwedegon Pagoda, can be seen from almost anywhere in town. Buddhists come from all over the continent to worship and celebrate in the shadow of this beautiful golden icon. We circled slowly all day long, watching ceremonies unfold, people bathing Buddhas in the water spouting from their birthday corners. Burmese people are named after the day of the week they are born, and each day has its own meaning, strengths and weaknesses. Think: your cosmic sign.
Yangon has a train that circles the entire city. It only takes about 3 hours to ride the whole thing, so we hopped on to see what morning life is like in the city. The train tracks in Burma were made before they knew exactly which cars would be riding them, so they don’t fit “perfectly.” The ride is bumpy and sways quite a bit, but its resulting character is charming. People hopped on board to sell drinks and local food. Some even set up little mini 5-minute kitchens to produce soups and noodles upon request.
But, watching life roll past us, and unfold in the seats next to us was the true highlight. The green rice paddies we saw out the window, the vendors and families making their ways on the station platforms. Its a different world than Philadelphia’s 30th street station, but there’s no denying the shared humanity in these experiences. 
The nightlife here is ALL ABOUT THE FOOD. That makes it my kind of town! Even though, it’s not using its vocabulary accurately…
Aside from “asian grammar” this place is perfect. Complete with smells, weirdness, awesomeness, crazy people watching, carts of friend insects, and nighttime pedal tours.
Burmese New Year was being built while we were in town, literally. Temporary wooden stages were being conducted on every block. These were to hold DJ’s, and VIP pass holders, each armed with more water hoses than they had arms. The water festival is a 4-day non-stop celebration that is truly an all-inclusive party. The idea is that the water can wash away the shit storm that was your past year, and present you with a fresh beginning for the new year. This is taken literally. And, it is SO MUCH FUN. We didn’t take many photos since, you know, water festival. But at 103 degrees, it was spectacular.
Free live shows from major local bands, tons of amazing food, homemade whiskeys and rice wines, and dub step, hip hop and pop anthems being blasted from every stage, competing for your ear drums were all second tier aspects of this crazy event. First and foremost was getting soaking wet. Carrying buckets, water bottles, and squirt guns, the entire city buckled down for a full-on water war.
People would walk up to you and say “Happy New Year!” while gently dumping water on your heard. Or, they would spray you violently from a hose. Or, they would toss a bucket of water in your general direction while speeding by on a local truck full of all of their friends, blasting their favorite techno beats. Either way, as white people, we definitely got the brunt of it. We proudly took it like champs who were pretty psyched to not be melting in the deep insanity that is Asian summer heat. “Pyawshwinhpwal Nhaitsait”, Myanmar! We are feeling good and cleansed for our new year, thanks to y’all.