Overnight In Rangoon

On the road…again!
Afghanistan to Zambia
Chronicles of a Footloose Forester
By Dick Pellek

 

Overnight In Rangoon

 

In the mid-1960s the military-controlled government of Burma was run by a cabal of high-ranking officers who were quite unfriendly to outsiders, especially Westerners.  Thus, anybody passing through Burma on their way to Bangkok or Hong Kong was allowed to stay no more than 24 hours; and had transit status as passengers.  No visa was required to enter and to leave under transit status, but there was not much flexibility to see the sights, either.  That put a crimp in the style of the Footloose Forester who always wanted to see as much countryside as time allowed.  To make things worse, our plane had arrived from Calcutta after 10:00 Pm, and was scheduled to depart for Bangkok at 06:30 Am the next morning.  Not much time to see the sights in Rangoon after a late dinner at the hotel where we transit passengers were assigned.  It was nearly midnight before we finished dinner.

The spectacular golden dome of the Sule Pagoda in Rangoon was on the personal bucket list of a fretting Footloose Forester who realized that there was only one way to tick off a visitation to one of the world’s greatest temples.  He had to walk—after midnight.

 

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The 2500-year-old Sule Pagoda 

As he set off alone from the hotel a few minutes after midnight, Footloose Forester first made sure that he left his wallet, watch, and cash in his hotel room; and made sure he could get back into the hotel on his own.  Many hotels closed their main doors after 10 Pm or so, thus getting back in on your own was not always a given.  This hotel didn’t have such a policy, so he set off in the dark, without a map.  Luckily, he had sat in a window seat on the plane on arrival and was able to see the glimmer of gold in the bright moonlight of a nearly full moon as we passed overhead the nearby Sule Pagoda on our approach.  He sat in a seat on the right side of the plane and, fortunately, the temple was underneath, on his side.

At that time he didn’t know the name of the 2500-year-old pagoda whose dome was covered in gold leaf, but a simple word search done decades later took care of that important detail.

There was little hesitation as he emerged from the hotel and turned left.  Footloose Forester knew that he had about a dozen blocks to walk in the direction of the temple, but he knew there would be a course correction in his plan as he got close.  The streets were deserted.  He was counting on that because he didn’t know what attitude any potential thief might assume, if he came across one.  His luck held up as he got close; he saw the golden dome more clearly as it gleamed in the moonlight. When he approached, he was more cautious regarding the possible presence of beggars, who often made temples, churches, and pagodas their nighttime residence.  There were none, thus after taking a few minutes to walk around the pagoda to thrill at its architecture in the moonlight, the Footloose Forester contentedly walked back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before departing for Bangkok.

Lynn and Maurine Stewart
We Know Not The Day Nor The Hour
 

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