Yangon Day 1


The air charges your spirit.  None of us could articulate our feeling of the air, but we all agreed there was something special about it. No words combined and refined will ever be able to replicate the experience of being on the street in between people eating at sidewalk restaurants with kindergarden sized tables and chairs, kids and adults kicking around a giant wicker ball (Chinlone) and tea shops filled with men sitting on the ground playing checkers. Standing over beetle-nut spit splatters that stain the concrete like one giant murder scene, the river breeze catchs your hair and escalates your already over-bombarded senses.

One thing is for sure:  I love it here.

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